A Nightmare Awakes (active)

[stillofnight.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Reala, NiGHTS
Content: Reala arrives and gets down to business hurting Paixaoans. NiGHTS is there too,and does some stuff. But that's really not nearly as important. =P
Setting: Muspelheim gate
Time: THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT. MINE IS AN EVIL LAUGH. MWAHAHAHA.
Warnings: Uh, blood? Snark? Sibling rivalry?

A soft noise of confusion, a sudden shifting against a ground that was entirely too hard; Reala sat up without knowing he'd laid down at all. He had been flying--why was he waking up? And in such a strange place, at that? Ugh, this place was too damned bright.... Where was he? This certainly wasn't Nightmare. He'd never seen anything like it in Nightopia, either.... It seemed a little too brilliant and strange. Not to mention full of what looked quite like Visitors. None of the normal residents he would expect to find in Nightopia, yet none of them seemed particularly disoriented.... It was like some strange shared dream? Perhaps a new part of the Night Dimension altogether.

Reala picked himself up with a disdainful huff, dusting himself off and rising into the air with a quick burst of golden sparkles. They left a fading comet's trail behind him as he joined the line of visitors, privately scoffing at their obliviousness; they hardly seemed to think he was odd at all. Truly a wolf along sheep, with not even a skin to hide him.... "Name, please?"

Such a mundane question. As though he were one of these fools.... "Reala." He smirked; there was no reason at all to not give it. He doubted this Visitor would know who he was anyway.

"Welcome to Paixao! Here's your journal, please enjoy your stay!" The gatekeeper smiled and offered him a deep red rectangle and some pamphlets that Reala hardly bothered to look at.

"Thank you very much." Reala's smirk widened, and he moved to take the offering, apparently overshooting; pale fingers closed delicately around the man's wrist, gleaming pink claws leaving furrows down the entirety of his hand. The man jerked back and cried out in pain as rivulets of pale, glowing blue blood spilled over the journal. Reala caught the journal and pamphlets as they were dropped, offering a mockingly cheerful wave as he turned to glide into the city itself. So they weren't Visitors after all.... Visitors, as he recalled, bled nothing but crimson. "I think I will."

Comments

[eternitydreamer.livejournal.com]

NiGHTS giggled at how grouchy Reala was - the only time he seemed happy was when he was causing others pain or otherwise being... well, Reala - but frowned to herself afterwards. Reala was obviously in pain if he couldn't mutter angrily about whatever shenanigans NiGHTS was up to, whether it be taking off her Persona, befriending Visitors or undermining Nightmare as a "harmless" prank. She continued flying, letting her sort-of brother use her for balance, and soon enough, they were at the Morem o Lisboa hotel.

Ignoring the odd noises of the flashy building near the hotel, not to mention the strange noises that occasionally reached the two Maren, NiGHTS hurriedly scooped a handful of jeweled plants off the ground and tugged Reala inside, hurriedly checking Reala in at the front desk. Grinning at the clerk, half-tempted to pull a face (but knowing this was not the time), NiGHTS pulled Reala along up some stairs and reached his room as quickly as she could.

Once inside, she pointed to the bed. "Get in." Wasn't that what Visitors did when they got sick or felt tired? Maybe it would work for Nightmaren, as well.

[stillofnight.livejournal.com]

The flashing lights and odd noises rather reminded Reala of Delight City, once again; the the similarity in his eyes went unremarked upon, and rather unthought of, at that; he was too busy trying to fly as normally as possible in spite of crippling nausea. The use of jeweled plants as payment was noticed and filed away as well, though with a little more care; he might need that information later.

"What do you think I am, a Visitor? As if I could be compared to one of those insects...." Reala was understandably irritated at the comparison and its implications--Visitors were weak, foolish little things, easily spooked, overpowered, and manipulated, so what did that say about him? Regardless, he found himself sinking onto the bed--sitting on top of the covers, incidentally--despite his protests. It was just easier that way; his head was spinning, his stomach throwing out more sickeningly intense spikes of pain from the prolonged period of motion and effort, and he was quickly sliding into exhaustion. Rather than crumple into himself as he might have if alone, Reala maintained as normal a sitting posture as he could manage, body tensed against the pain. This was already embarrassing enough as it was....