[He has nightmares, sometimes. Of needles in his skin, of people screaming, of blood, of clean walls. But Sariel chalks it up to his time thousands of years ago, under the watch of the Astrals. It was a common sensation, then, to be treated like a tool.]
[So, he wanders sometimes, listlessly. In the backstreets, where very few roam. And then...he feels it. Something tugging him, pulling him. He doesn't resist. A turn here, a walk here, and then-]
[He notices it. A familiar figure, sitting in an alley.]
[the new nightmare blends all too well with the old one, but he's so familiar with it that the differences have still stood out. the walls are blue, then they're blank and gouged. his target is the same as it ever was, except for when it isn't, when it's much larger than a single fruit. it's the sounds that are the worst, though-- they're what echo more than the images, leaving him struggling to pick out whose voices were even a part of that nightmare at all.
he doesn't think he wants to examine it. gregor prefers not to, keeping more to himself, in large part thanks to the growth of his corruption (he doesn't even remember this happening, how and why did--)]
-Manager Bud? Wait, hang on-- Sariel?
[the sensation was familiar, but rather than who he assumed... he looks up to see someone completely different, though he feels more at ease in his presence nevertheless.
[He confirms - his body feels like it moves on its own, wanting to be close. He stops himself right next to him, a little hunched where he stands, but focused on him.]
I'm fine, I'm fine. Just... needed to take a little time, that's all.
[away from others, where it's quieter, where he won't be looked at.
problem is, that leaves him alone in his head, which is-- not the best place to be right now. so it's a relief that sariel is here, really, it's just that he has no idea why it's so much of one.]
[the part of him that doesn't want to be touched right now is promptly overruled by the part that's further soothed with the contact-- he pauses, but he doesn't lean away.]
I really haven't mentioned them--? Er, Dante, if you've met before. Clock for a head, can't miss 'em. They're the Executive Manager of our branch of the company.
[he mutters with a shake of his head, though that doesn't keep him from leaning into sariel slightly. it's almost reflexive, rather than a conscious response.]
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sometime after the kidnapping
[He has nightmares, sometimes. Of needles in his skin, of people screaming, of blood, of clean walls. But Sariel chalks it up to his time thousands of years ago, under the watch of the Astrals. It was a common sensation, then, to be treated like a tool.]
[So, he wanders sometimes, listlessly. In the backstreets, where very few roam. And then...he feels it. Something tugging him, pulling him. He doesn't resist. A turn here, a walk here, and then-]
[He notices it. A familiar figure, sitting in an alley.]
.....Gregor?
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he doesn't think he wants to examine it. gregor prefers not to, keeping more to himself, in large part thanks to the growth of his corruption (he doesn't even remember this happening, how and why did--)]
-Manager Bud? Wait, hang on-- Sariel?
[the sensation was familiar, but rather than who he assumed... he looks up to see someone completely different, though he feels more at ease in his presence nevertheless.
...since when did that happen?]
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[He confirms - his body feels like it moves on its own, wanting to be close. He stops himself right next to him, a little hunched where he stands, but focused on him.]
[It feels like...]
[Sunday. And Konoha. But when...?]
Are you okay?
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[away from others, where it's quieter, where he won't be looked at.
problem is, that leaves him alone in his head, which is-- not the best place to be right now. so it's a relief that sariel is here, really, it's just that he has no idea why it's so much of one.]
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[He offers, helpfully, though he can't guess at what the man is in need of. Still, he wants to stay here instead of passing by.]
[....It helps him, too.]
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[he takes the excuse readily. mental tiredness counts, right?
after a second, he gestures to the ground next to him.]
You don't have to stand around, bud.
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[He moves to sit.]
[And then scooches a little closer, bumping arms.]
Who is Manager Bud?
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I really haven't mentioned them--? Er, Dante, if you've met before. Clock for a head, can't miss 'em. They're the Executive Manager of our branch of the company.
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[...]
[Somehow he remembers them. But also doesn't. It feels fuzzy. A distant thing.]
I see. I guess they look after you.
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[who knows if he's doing Well at it, though.]
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[To return kindness, and care.]
You say trying...do you feel it is inadequate?
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[on account of, you know, having awful nightmares in their small shared apartment.]
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[Why does he feel like he's not doing so well at it?]
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I'll get past it. Just some sorta rough patch.
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[An important distinction.]
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[he is genuinely curious]
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[Gregor...]
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[a brief pause, before he decides to continue.]
Feels like I'm less, uh, present at the moment, is all. Beats me what's going on with my sleep.
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[His sleep....not sleeping well? He inches closer. Their arms are touching, now.]
You're tired, then. Maybe you need help to do that.
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[he mutters with a shake of his head, though that doesn't keep him from leaning into sariel slightly. it's almost reflexive, rather than a conscious response.]
Probably, uh. Not the safest right now.
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[A little sigh.]
I also have had bad dreams. I don't understand them. But surely...it's bad to have bad dreams. Why isn't it safe?
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[and with his arm, that's more dangerous than it'd be for someone normal.]
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[Ah. He thinks he knows what he's talking about.]
Do you sleep? And talk? During your sleep....?
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