#in which dottore is the nightmare.

[raytm-moved]

[  fear  ]  receiver  finds  sender having  a  nightmare // for dottore, diluc deserves to be haunted as a treat

the vestiges of one’s mind could be such a harrowing dichotomy, concepts of reality & delusion coinciding in the most diverting euphony. whether he was corporeal or discarnate was not important, even lacking a human vessel his presence emanates in minatory stagnance. he is severance from the somnolent reverie in ways only danger could. long legs crossed, stygian leather gloves curve beneath his throat, cradling his chin pensively.   “  you seem perturbed. ”  his cadence filters through the density of his consciousness, strident static wading through the mind’s endless flow. “ did you presume yourself secure in an innocuous state of slumber. ” amusement exudes in virulence,  his head canted, irreverence glinting in his eyes  “ how does it feel to continuously be proven incorrect. ”  laughter without annunciation, tapping his fingers in a sedated cadence.  “ now i am considering if i should have expected more from you. ”