what sounds better? revenge or popcorn?

[blacklisle]

Post your character. Post a prompt or leave it blank and let others post a prompt. Find your prompts here. Tag. Enjoy.

[ lfdsh ]

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[the_hair]

He was definitely an only child -at least so far as he knew- and any of the kids he knew were old enough to get squirrely about hugs, and considering he still thought he was dreaming, he didn't know that she'd expected anything different, but he nodded at the answer, "Nancy."

Though he squinted at her a moment later, as if trying to find anything he recognized as being Nancy, just shaking his head when he failed to do so, "And I guess you could be yourself, but if that's the case I don't know who you are."

[the_infant_death]

She laughed at the name said so decisively, made it a childish high-pitched giggle instead of her usual low soft laugh. Something a little less sensual, and she delicately crossed her hands in her lap.

"Such determination! I suppose I can be your psychopomp. Yet we have already decided that living forever is not what you want: yet what is it, then, that you do want?"

[the_hair]

"Psycho what? Don't think psycho-anything is a good thing." Vocabulary words had never been his area of expertise, and he couldn't be sure if that was more proof or less proof that she was whatever his subconscious had decided a child-Nancy would be like.

The direct question that followed was a good one, and it would have been even better if he'd had a direct answer to give, but he didn't, partly because he just didn't and partly because he knew better than to answer something like that in a dream unless he wanted the opposite to happen, which -in his experience- didn't also work in reverse.

Which was why what he asked in turn was: "And what can you even help with? You're like nine." It was probably an incorrect guess, but he knew she was younger than Dustin, and probably younger than Erica, and while she might be Holly's age, he couldn't really be sure. He also wasn't sure if it even mattered, in the end.

[the_infant_death]

“Ah, but wisdom is ageless, or so they say,” Claudia returned, smiling. Pity she couldn’t dig deep into his thoughts, pull out the memories of this ‘Nancy,’ twist his mind around to see her…no, she could only see the vague shape of his thinking.

She sat perfectly still, still as a little doll: she only needed to breathe while speaking, after all. No fidgeting, no restless shifting, hands folded white and still in her lap. It tended to unnerve mortals, her stillness, but he hadn’t yet noticed. He might not.

[the_hair]

"Do they say that? I haven't heard anybody say that." Chances were good that he wouldn't clock the stillness, most things he was used to being threats moved wrong instead of not moving at all.

That and he was still fairly convinced this was a dream which meant anything that was just a little bit off would be written off as that.

His brow furrowed a moment later, regarding her again, "So what wisdom do you have for me?"

[the_infant_death]

Claudia laughed, low and soft, not entirely childlike. “Living forever isn’t so bad. But perhaps avoid future blows to the head. Your dreams might be less dangerous.”

She smiled, soft and sweet…with slender sharp fangs dimpling her lower lip.

Hunger had won over her curiousity.

[the_hair]

Dream or not, he understood a threat when he saw one, and knew that his own dreams had a tendency to go wrong, even now. The problem was that she was between him and the nail bat currently propped up against the dresser. The only reason it was there and not closer to the bed was to prevent it from becoming a trip hazard as he was rarely at his best first thing in the morning.

The fact that his dreams usually insisted on following the same logic was frustrating. Which was still not enough to make him realize he wasn't dreaming.

No, instead he just said: "I don't think that's actually how it works. I was definitely having nightmares before I took one too many hits to the head."