dreamsofnoah | 47 dreams

Come and find out!

Where are you?

The Underground.

Care to be more specific?

...come here and I'll find you.

Fine.

[ooc: Yeah, he's going to the Underground. Yes, he's cursed. No, it's not a good idea. *facepalms*]

Okay~! ♥

((ooc: ajdalsk Road is horribly cursed and out for blood today >.>))

[Regardless, Justin goes to the Underground. He knows it's a bad idea. He knows that Road is dangerous. None of this, however, encourages him to go back to his apartment.

On some level, Justin realizes he's cursed. Under normal circumstances, he would, at the most, berate Road for being insane and threaten to write up a police report; today, however, he wants to see what she's doing. He wants to see what nightmare she's creating underneath the City. He wants to approach danger--walk on the razor-edge between safety and destruction.

But only for today.]

[ooc: Oh dear. Er... whatever's good? Justin's a not-so-secret masochist and thrill-seeker, so... yes. Assuming is good, action is good...]

[She finds him easily enough, standing on her umbrella and flying around corners, her skirt and blouse still neat and fresh even though there's blood trapped under her nails and at the corner of her mouth.

She laughs when she sees him, and there's nothing childish in it for once, even though it's as openly gleeful as a child's laugh.]

So you finally~ decided to play properly with me.

[she grins, and it's inhuman, a slash of darkness under golden eyes and the stigmata carved into her forehead]

((ooc: kljaslk we can say Allen saves him at some point if you like, cause otherwise...))

[Road is terrifying. Not that she isn't usually a little frightening, but this... this is very different. Justin's survival instincts naturally kick in, urging him to run, but it's easy enough to override instinct.]

What are we playing?

[ooc: I'm good with assumed rescuing! ♥ I don't like otherwise.]

[Her head tilts slowly to one side, smile still bright and terrible as she raises one finger and a multitude of candles appear, sharp ends pointing right at Justin.]

We're playing at seeing how long you can stay alive.

((ooc: okay XD))

You've never wanted to play that game before.

[He thinks she's bluffing. For all of her wickedness, Road's never actually hurt him. Then again, today is a strange day.

Justin smiles at her. It's not a sincere smile, or a frightened one--just blank. Maybe she isn't bluffing. Would that really matter?]

Haven't I?

[she flicks her finger downwards, sending a candle aimed to pin him to the wall through one of his arms. Road isn't bluffing - she never really bluffed. At best she gets distracted before she can carry out whatever she's planning.

But today she wanted to see blood.]

Maybe it was never the right time.

[Road moves before Justin can answer. As illogical as it is, her candle goes through his arm and pierces the wall behind him. He's more surprised by the impossibility of this than the pain; pain isn't bad. It's real. It's beyond questioning, beyond doubt.

Justin winces and, for the first time in weeks, finds himself missing Richard. He keeps his voice as even as possible.]

How many toys have you broken today, Road?

They don't matter once they're broken.

[Which means, in her own way, that it's quite a number of them. She hops off her umbrella, landing neatly in front of him. She looks at the candle, at the lack of reaction from him, and reaches up to slowly push it further in, still watching his face.]

[Justin suspects as much.

He stares at her. This is a challenge, and the only way to win is to avoid giving Road what she wants. It hurts--more than anything he's experienced since dying--but he's played this kind of game before. Justin bites his tongue to stay quiet and smiles.]

[Her grin grows wider.]

I didn't think you'd be this brave.

[She digs her nails into the wound and then pulls her hand back, glistening with blood.]

Red. I was hoping it'd be darker. Crimson's always prettier.

[Road puts her fingers to her mouth anyway, tongue darting out to catch the liquid.]

Do you like your eyes, Justin?

I told you... I'm stronger than you think.

[Okay, that hurts. Justin grits and teeth and tries to maintain his blank expression. He's almost giddy, even though Road's taste--literal taste--for blood is kind of disgusting. Unhygienic.

The mention of eyes, however, pushes him from giddy to scared.]

...What?

[ooc: Assumed rescue before eye-plucking happens? Justin really likes his eyes.]

I wonder how strong. Everyone breaks, Justin.

[She doubles up laughing at having scared him so easily, her fingers leaving bloodstains on her face, but strangely enough not on her clothes.]

I'll take that as a yes~. Don't worry, Justin. I want you to be able to watch this.

((ooc: lol, no, THAT is a bluff to get a reaction. She probably wants to play around a bit in his head, if that's okay with you?))

Do you?

[He's not terribly pleased with that; she managed to get a reaction out of him too easily. It only makes him more determined to beat her at this game, even if she's the one in control.

Justin steadies himself mentally, but doesn't reply.]

[ooc: Whew! Good bluff! That's perfectly fine.]

Of course~.

[she doesn't make a move towards him again, just smiling, but really she's going through his thoughts, his memories and fears, trying to choose which would be the most painful thing to dredge up and make him face. And as soon as she's found it, he'll find himself inside a dream so real he won't even be able to believe he's dreaming.]

((ooc: sorry about that XD just...feel free to pick something appropriate? IDK what you want him to see.))

[Justin wonders what it takes to break a sadist.

At least he does so until the Underground begins slipping away. Of course Road would take the game into his head...

And then he's in jail. The cell's familiar enough--stark, but not uncomfortable. Solitary confinement. Apparently being pretty and seventeen in a prison full of murderers is dangerous, so the solitude is for his own good. The quiet's maddening, though. There's a book in front of Justin, but he's given up pretending to read it.

Richard's funeral was over. The trial was over. In four months, Justin's life would be over. Things were happening to fast and crashing too quickly. The wound from the shootout at the lodge wasn't even healed before the death sentence was passed down. If he hadn't confessed... if he hadn't trusted Richard or saved that bitch Cassie or--

Justin tried to shake himself out of the dream. It wasn't real. Not anymore.

Or was it?

The silence pressed closer and Justin found himself drowning in thoughts and self-pity. His friend was dead--lucky bastard--and he was alone. Well and truly alone. Justin's father hadn't come back for the trial, and his mother had told him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't acknowledge a murderer as her son. Lisa... who knew where Lisa was. She vanished once he confessed to murder. She liked him when he was a victim, but once he became the aggressor, she was gone.

And he was alone with his thoughts. With mental images--with guilt and hatred and bitterness and fear. It hurt. The quiet, the complete isolation, the pounding thoughts--it all hurt more than the bullet. Justin tried to remain impassive. He hadn't cried since the day of his arrest; he wouldn't cry now, no matter how much it hurt.]

[ooc: No, I'm sorry! For the... tl;dr, there.]

[She's watching of course, she always watched, hardly needing to do a thing herself besides calling the dream into being.

They always managed to hurt themselves the most in the end.

A second could seem like hours in one of her dreams, a never ending nightmare, and the moment you thought you were close to waking up, you realize you're back at the beginning once more, to go through it over and over until there's nothing left but an endless scene you want nothing more than to claw your way out of.

And always the worst thoughts and fears are dredged up, poured onto her victim's psyche.]

((ooc: that's fine!))

[Road is gone entirely. The City is gone along with everything good in it. There's nothing but Justin, his mind, a cell, impending death, and a dead Richard.

Time passed without passing. Justin felt his thoughts eating him alive until he thought he was insane--until he thought there wouldn't be anything left for the grand state of California to execute. He tried to distract himself by thinking about the gas chamber. He knew how it worked. If he could repeat the mechanical details enough, maybe the rest of the thoughts would go away.

It never worked.

Justin registers a pain in his arm, but he can't remember what it's from. It's not the arm that was hurt in the fight. He latches onto the pain, concentrating on it until it swallows his other thoughts, but it doesn't work. There's only more pain. Mental and physical--it's impossible to tell them apart.

In the Underground, Justin is breaking.]

[She feels nothing but amusement at watching, and a sick satisfaction. Stronger than she thought he was? Oh, maybe. That was always a pleasant surprise.

But it's still never strong enough. And maybe she'll let him go just in time, or maybe she'll keep him here until he finally does break and is never able to leave the dream again.

Maybe that was what she really likes. Having people at her mercy.

And Road has no mercy.]

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