COMM: shifted_prompts - last dance
VERSE: realityshifted
WORD COUNT: 1023
NOTES: Can anyone notice a pattern here yet?




Everything was too surreal.

That was what tipped him off. The sky was ashen at the lightest; everything seemed to be made of charred and rotting flesh. Some of it was melted, oozing like some sort of sick paste down vague shapes of buildings and onto the sickening musculature of the ground. He knew where he was, but only in a general sense. He was asleep, and he was in a dream of Skwisgaar's. His were always the worst.

"Oh, fuck me," Nathan muttered as he braced for an impact. He was aware of things, and it would be soon enough that something would turn a hateful eye his way and expel him from the disgusting landscape he was stuck in. To be honest, he was hoping for it; these dreams were bad enough when he wasn't aware he was asleep. He didn't fancy staying in being stuck in there.

The impact didn't come. There was no grinding halt, but there was certainly the sound of grinding in his ears, steadily increasing in volume. Nathan shook his head as if it could dispel the noise, but to no avail. Great. Now he was aware he was asleep, couldn't seem to wake himself up, and was stuck in one of his least favorite dream lands.

Wait. Was that...

"Roe?"

No fucking way. He couldn't have seen her, at least not in a dream that wasn't his. He had to have been imagining it... even more so since, you know, he was asleep and aware of it. That had to do something weird to dreams. He had no idea how, but he was pretty sure things worked like that. Maybe because he was in the reins a bit, he could control things here and there.

It was impulse that drove him to follow her. Melted flesh oozed around his boots like watery mud with every step; the cloying smell of rot almost overwhelmed him whenever he took a step. God, he hated this place, he hated being here, where the fuck was the band, why the hell was he following something he wasn't even sure actually existed. Which, actually, he was positive she didn't exist. For one, she was a fucking ghost. For two, he was asleep, so by default, none of this was real. Regardless of how vivid it was.

He turned a corner around some rotten meat structure and almost slammed into someone. A woman; too tall to be Roe, different hair, different build. Whatever, maybe she had seen something...

"Hey, uh, have you seen a-"

The woman turned around, revealing an angled but attractive face. Her smile had an almost predatory edge to it, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. "You're Nathan Explosion, aren't you?"

"Uhhhh... yeah. How the fuck do you know that."

She brushed black hair over her shoulder. "This place is absolutely disgusting, don't you agree?"

"I asked you a question. ...And a half."

The woman's expression flattened into mild disapproval; her green eyes fixated on him. "I know. I decided not to answer them, Nathan. I think even you can get that through your thick skull, or you would eventually." She sighed. "Why do I always end up having to deal with the knuckle-headed ones..."

Nathan stepped forward, taking some measure of offense. "What the fuck? Who the hell are you to, uh, talk to me. Like that."

Without care for his physical space, she reached out and twisted a finger in his hair. "I'm Rita. But I don't think this is the time to talk, sweetheart, I'm afraid time's up."

Before he could say anything else, the grinding of gears raised to a deafening screech, piercing his brain like a lance. His hands went immediately to his temples as the dream came to another jerking halt like all the ones before. The last thing he saw before he woke was Rita, smiling with white teeth and her fierce eyes staring right on through him.

At least this time he hadn't fallen out of bed. It was a jerking end, but he was still in the comfort of gigantic bed. His head was ringing from the sounds and he tiredly rubbed his temple. "My god, this shit has got to stop." He let his arm fall limply at the side of his head. "Maybe I should listen to Pickles, get some fucking pills or something for this. If I don't get a good night of sleep soon... ugh."

He closed his eyes. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now; ever since this started happening, once he was awake, he was awake. It was annoying and cut out on the option to nap, but he was adjusting to it (although against his will). But he wasn't sure if it was just that keeping him from falling back asleep.

Nathan wasn't quite sure if he wanted to bump into Rita again. Something about her just made him feel odd, a bit ill at ease, which sounded stupid when he thought about it. She was just something in a dream, but-

She had basically called whatever it was down on him, didn't she? As soon as she said time was up, the grinding of gears hit the peak of volume and he was thrown out. Maybe she wasn't just a thing made up in a dream, maybe she was... fuck if he knew. "Yeah, no. I am way too fucking tired to think about this. Way, way too fucking tired."

He yanked his blanket over his head. "Fuck this."

He'd think about it later; maybe this time he wouldn't miss breakfast. Maybe this time he could talk to the rest of the band, not just Pickles, to see if they had noticed anything. Other than Nathan just getting thrown out like unwanted garbage - he knew that already. Maybe one of them had bumped into Rita. Maybe.

Man, why the fuck was he still thinking?

They really needed to invent something that turned off thoughts. Nathan added that to the list of things to get done today: stop by the science department and harass those guys down there. If anyone could make anything that could mute thinking, they could.

That would be pretty cool.