[ Sleep paralysis. The Meridian's suffer it now, in their loss; a pang of loneliness that can only be soothed by the presence of their own, and the Discord associated with his repeated trips to the Beyond -- they culminate in this disabused state, where he cannot move his limbs, where his mind is muddled by sleep and substance. He rubs his cheek into the press of Archangel's fingers, like a tired cat that's seeking a particular warmth.
( Sickening. Wake up. Remember yourself. ) ]
Mm, it will be mine whether I am there or not.
[ Clearly, he thinks that Archangel is someone else. ( Someone he loves, hates. ) ]
You called, I came. Why don't you rest... even you must.
no subject
( Sickening. Wake up. Remember yourself. ) ]
Mm, it will be mine whether I am there or not.
[ Clearly, he thinks that Archangel is someone else. ( Someone he loves, hates. ) ]
You called, I came. Why don't you rest... even you must.