- Who: Amelia, Nu'eth (CrispyWonderMint) & Grey (Chrystali)
When: Morning
Where: On the street in front of Grey's workplace
Weather: A spot of fog, a promise of June gloom
The sun hadn't entirely crested the peaks of the highest buildings in the city yet, but Grey was already extinguishing his third cigarette butt 'neath his booted toe. He was pretty sure his nicotine intake had doubled since the voice started but it hadn't really been a point of issue with him, not nearly so much as the chattering dream catcher. Cigarettes, he could handle. Disembodied spirits that only he could hear, not so much.
I'm sorry, the voice murmured softly. The sound of it had an ethereal quality to it, giving Grey the impression of having strained his ears in silence and being rewarded with the soft whisper of a misty rain. It was both a comfort and a shock which made it very disorientating every time he heard it, and this time was no exception, making the welder go rigid up his spine and his head tick sharply to the side.
It was the only way he could 'see' it - him - the spirit. In sharp relief over his shoulder, just out of the corner of his awareness, but it was purposeful and they both knew it. "Stop that," he snapped, exhausted from another night of sleep that was hard to wake from and as draining as if he'd not slept at all. It made him very testy. "I already told you it's not your fault."
Your tone suggestions otherwise--
"I'm tired, I'm trying to be cool but it's a little much to be communicating with a voice in my head." The man's voice had lowered to a low, rumbling a growl; if the spirit's voice was a soft rain, then his own was a rolling thunder.
It didn't help that the spirit could literally read his thoughts. You know that's not what I am. And there it was -- that small touch of sorrow that indicated the spirit was aware of Grey's resistance and uncertainty.
A fourth cigarette was lit and tucked between his lips, the bright flash of orange the only real color in the steel haze of the industrial area. Even Grey himself was washed out in color, or at least, he felt that way. Exhaling sharply to expel the smoke, he looked 'away' from the Oneroi. "I know." The edge softened in his voice, but it was like covering a razor blade in velvet. "You're no burden. You're just...new."
It's been... The voice trailed off.
"A month. Ish. Yeah, I know." Grey flicked the cig with his pinky, using his free hand to rub his fingers over his right eye. "In the entirety of my life, that's not a long time, kid. Pretty sure it's not much in your existence either."
Silence followed, but Grey could 'feel' the smile. Damn, he really hoped Granny was right and this guy wasn't going to turn out to be some slack-jawed monster with a disposition to leer at him from his bed post...
