thread roulette ( alessandro and nikki )

[Orange]

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Alessandro Bonasera hears Nikki raging about something late at night and goes to investigate. nikki starts.

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thread roulette

[Nikki]

[attr="class","rapl"]

[attr="class","rapl2"]( YOU CALL THIS YOUR BEST? )
I MADE MY LIFE A MESS

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[attr="class","rapl4"]

[attr="class","rapl5"]Alessandro Bonasera

It's the same dream as usual. Visions into a world of the apocalypse where demons roamed the Earth but he'd had freedom from his shackles leftover from the Operation had been a nightly reprieve from the typical nightmares, memories from a world that he'd really lived through and were hellbent on forcing him to re-experience that used to plague him every time his eyes dropped close. Sleep by itself was such a rare commodity that the nightmares it came hand in hand with were nothing short of an extra needle barbed slap to the face. He should have known that the break was only that: a break, a temporary leave from the normal that couldn't last forever. Tonight, he had not been taken off to Sanctum where he sat at a bar with a man who vomited ice. Tonight, he was visited by the chilling images of the Doctor's too-wide smile and the corpse of the woman he loved. “You have only yourself to blame for this, Nikki,” he could hear, hot breath from an invisible face spilling over his ear and whispering to him words he couldn't bare to listen to. “If you had stayed with me, she might have been able to live.”

“Shut up.”

The hideout atop the humble-looking coffee shop that had been the nerve center of his life for so long (too long) melted away as he jerked himself back to consciousness, but only for half a second does Nikki allow himself to think that he's free. Exhaustion still tugs at his every atom, nerves still buzzing – and he can still hear him, mocking, laughing. It's a reminder that he may be out of the hospital, but he's not really cured. He can remind himself all he pleases that these are just terrifying bi-products of a mind broken in half and hastily glued back together, but that doesn't stop the words from registering in his mind. It doesn't stop the feeling of hands on his shoulders, on his face, so gentle he could scream. (So scream he does.) “Stop it – Stop it!” Fire – fire in his mind, fire on his flesh. He rolled to be free, but all it earned him was the floor in his face and a pain in his twisted limb, an unpleasant distraction for all of one second before the words kick up again, louder, and why won't they just go away? “You owe me, you ungrateful pig,” said a man who was and wasn't there. “If it hadn't been for me, you would be rolling in your grave right about now.”

“I wish I was, you fuck! God I –” It would have been so much easier that way. For all his talk, though, no matter how much he believed those very words, he didn't have what it took to tie that not. (Just another thing he only had himself to blame for.) There was no paradise for a man who killed to keep living. There was no redemption for a man who let the people he cared about die at his expense. At some point, the line had blurred between what words were his own and what were that of the phantom – but weren't they all his from the start? – and he couldn't take it. Tears, thick and warm went tumbling down, and on cue, a noise near inhuman in its lack of intelligence tore itself from his lips. The whole apartment complex must have been able to hear him now, but the thought hadn't struck him for a minute. His world had constructed itself entirely in this room: His employer; his hatred; his regrets.

TOO LONG, DIDN'T READ, nikki had a bad dream which transitioned nicely into some hallucinations and now he's screaming bloody murder, have fun with that. i'm gonna try to keep these posts short, so bare with me.

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[Alessandro Bonasera]

[attr="class","TheHandmaiden05"]

[attr="class","TheHandmaiden"]

While it was four in the morning, Aless was wide awake. He sat on the floor of his living room, embroidering a rug. Flowers bloomed across much of it already, swirling vibrantly across the black and red background. He'd begun working it once he had the money to buy supplies and, since he didn't need to sleep, used it to keep his hands busy at night. He worked at an inhuman speed. This was his domain and he'd worked it for thousands of years. Practice bred precision and speed and it culminated in a rug half done in only a couple of days. Not to mention his nights were largely uninterrupted. There was the occasional phone call, a request for assistance, but they were few and far between. To his displeasure, though, tonight's interruption wasn't a phone call, but a scream that tore through the walls as if they were paper. Aless turned up the music on his phone and adjusted his earbuds. It wasn't his problem. However, the screaming continued with variance and persistence. He finally hissed sharp and set down his work. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous it was much too early for this sort of trouble. While he had no sleep to be disturbed, the shouting still angered him, especially as it continued on and on. He could hear the neighbor above him shuffling around with heavy steps. Angry, no doubt, as well. A phone call was one thing. Business was always welcome. This, though? This was a very much unwelcome interruption and it soured Aless' mood immediately. He snatched up his keys and stepped out of his apartment with more grace and quiet than his neighbor above. Anyone who was going to be woken up, surely already had been, but he kept his footfalls quiet so as to not apply salt to the open wounds of being jarred so violently from sleep. With a scream like that, something was wrong, surely, but it was only with mild urgency that he walked the couple of doors down to the source. It was with eagerness to get back to work and not concern for whoever was screaming.

The source was apartment 103. Who was it that lived here? It was a double like his, he knew that, because all apartments on this floor were doubles. He couldn't remember ever meeting these particular neighbors, though. He knocked hard on the door. "Number 103, you're waking the whole building!" He said, voice raised so as to maybe be heard over the man's incoherent screaming. Oh, but perhaps he ought to display some degree of concern. That was only appropriate, right? The bare minimum? "Are you okay, 103? Please stop screaming, it's four in the morning."

★ 455 words
★ Nikki
★ Ily leap keep them as short as you want they're always A+++

[attr="class","TheHandmaiden02"]ENKI

[attr="class","TheHandmaiden03"]GOD OF WATER

[attr="class","TheHandmaiden01"]

MADE BY MIZO❀

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