#{fucking big kek there's a life size puppet Ez he oofs her with but it's all fuvked up looking bc varro can't get with the program dgchv}

[gallowsghost]

drabble + Varro [spill the beans]

There was a big reason next to falling asleep, none that which she appreciated. Unlike Josiah's sleeping fear of her presence - there was something else that had the waking chance to get into the doppelgängers head instead. Something she'd like to avoid, but the association couldn't be helped, waiting weak point like a leaky haul that would combust under the weight of water - the encounter would happen eventually, no matter how certain she was safe and where.

Varro was the sleep seeking parasite, seeking endlessly for a useless book that done nothing but cause her trouble - let alone to wrench his associates work in return. For what reason? The doppelgänger didn't know, only that she was roped into something she didn't quite understand, and for a very long time. The suffocating pressure she was subject to made her sleeping consciousness rouse, greeted by the dense pressure of seemingly water that burned her lungs from the lack of intake and flared her sight red, Ezme already knew what was happening now. Aggravated, yet she knew she wasn't going to up and drown in this, the surface was breached and broken by a flail of arms.

However, sharp breaths and hacking coughs, the audible splash of a moments frantic, arms slammed down on the surface that splashed equally - but oddly, taken an almost solid surface aside from the foreign substance that coated her a watered red. Through heaving catches of breath, Ezme crawled out of the endless void of red beneath her, slopping to fours before pushing herself back and plopping down on her hind with watery sloshes. Soggy, albeit, spitting what hacked out of her lungs - she was here again.

This red washed hell. Beyond reaches, there was endless nothingness, like she was sitting in the middle of the ocean - glossed around by a red haze like mist. Nothing above and reached out, split gashes of gateway rifts that held a veil of maroon inside, bleeding out into this space. Nothing below, but the obnoxious resonance of dripping water in her head now to fill the silence, eyes rolled in their sockets to seek out Varro - who she could already sense his presence.

He never made himself present easily, but this was his world. A resonating mirror of it at least, his safe haven - somewhere, where Ezme had no control over anymore. She didn't know how legitimate the space was, but she didn't think to question it for that matter. No safety, death in sleep, somewhere she shouldn't just sit in the void of openness. Yet here she was, framing her posture forward while her forearms slumped over her knees now with a more neutral look than the usual scowl. Learning a thing or two, dealing with Varro server easier for someone like her, if he wasn't so aggravated. But that didn't mean she was safe, despite him having not assaulted her yet - Ezme knew that much. They both had short temper, given so at the same time, he used few things against her to get close to her for that matter. Very few things preyed on the items of discomfort, being one of the seemingly harmless. But combined with an image of herself and uncanny body movement? Both spilled into one made an awful image, living and dangerous.

She could hear the creaking of its steps already. Not only the creaking of barring joints and splash of heavy steps, but also the sound that was usually lost to untrained ears, ringing in her head. It sounded like a humming of a flipped coin, it was his resonation. Craning her neck, Ezme followed the resonating sound that was half assed over her shoulder - peeking back behind her. Surely it would've been better for her to get up and deal with him on the spot, but bearing better mind - despite Varro standing there now, hands in pockets, neutral, this was also his dream space now. Not hers. He could manifest almost anything he wanted in his favour, but alas, his time was limited from her crashed psyche that was already trouble to fight with. Let alone make anything of, but every approach like this was always stagnant with a hanging thread of threat nearby.

Varro didn't seem to budge though. With every approach on a dream scale level like this, was there always a talk-attempt. But not the same could be said if he'd come at her in the real world... All Ezme could really do is stall until it crashes, but those only fell in the rarest of times, and with the threat could he convey his message without him having to move. And she knew that. Wasting time wasn't going to work this go around.

The doppelgänger chosen to finally get up, through sound cues of annoyances, back to her feet she risen up and turned on heel to face him. Unfortunately, she wasn't nearly as armed as she was a good while back - though blade combat wasn't next to Josiah's ability with it, not even close to Ezme being that well at it. But that didn't mean it was off the table.

However, Varro might've been quiet, no matter the resonating sounds, nothing severed to silence the unspoken demand. Surely he wasn't a talker either, but the reaching out hand was already enough for Ezme. Mimicking his preference, the doppelgänger stuffed her hands into her trouser pockets - bypassing the visual exchange of the environment dimming down to more darker undertones. Murmuring was in the air, the entity was on loop about the book, but attention wasn't focused on Varro for long.

Ezme blinked but a few times, all before the metal resounding strain in the area sounded out - like metal cable stretching under pressure. It made chills run up her spine, coursed - by not discomfort of the entity. But what he seemed to personally throw at her in defence to help his bidding persuasion. Through the darkened haze above and between them were metal gleams of white, reminiscent of flickering piano wire crossing over - whereas two white pinhole glints stared at her. Waiting in the dark above.

"I'll keep coming back, time, time and time again. Perhaps even worse, and so will it be twice as bad in the end. All for a mere book." Varro murmured, albeit in the surrounding space, it sounded awfully close to the doppelgänger despite their distance. The words spoke threat but his voice was barren, thanks to the doppelgängers docility. She had a choice, but one she wouldn't ever consider and left no other route to survive until the influence dissipated along with him.