"You’re not here for a visit. What do you want?"

"Who said I'm not here for a visit? I'd say I am. Just passing by-- saying hello. Sniffing about, as it were."

"You would." 

"Touchy, touchy."

"It still reeks of death." 

"Smells nice, I think."

Water. Water so real that he was very literally drowning. It would happen day after day, typically by schedule so he’d know the isolate himself. Sometimes it would break off, perhaps his mind wanted to let him rest, but other nights were not so kind. This one from nowhere at all. He hadn’t provoked it, at least he hadn’t thought so, but it was over now. He was grateful and kissed the hand on his cheek. “Thank you.” 

Kara let her thumb ghost over his cheek, keeping him steady. She watched him nearly curl into himself and placed a hand on his side, ghosting air along his skin to soothe his aches. "You're welcome."

Andrei clutched onto her wrist and thigh, crumbling into her weakly. The rush of resupplied oxygen went directly to his heart and brain. He gasped and swallowed the air in great gulps, forcing it down and into his lungs. Andrei coughed away from her, panting and choking. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

Kara adjusted herself to be seated, legs crossed as she pulled him by the shoulders to rest his head in her lap. Kara knew well what it was like to drown in your own mind - lungs collapsing from the weight of a dark apparition poised to smother every last breath. "Shh, breathe." she whispered, holding his cheek in her hand, to steady him. "You'll be okay."

I’m sorry.

You should be.

He doesn’t want me to!

Then you are of no use and I shall not aid you.

She places a hand upon his throat, gently sliding her hand down his neck. She pressed a finger into the divit nearing his trachea, breathing air down his throat, into his lungs. "In, now. Breathe in."

He doesn’t want me to say.

Tell me or I can't help you.

I can't breathe.

Come, take my hand.

You are?  No, don’t- don’t leave. Who’s after me? Why? 

Yes. I have been drowned in water and sand. It's awful. Oh, curious are we? I would have a better idea of specifically who is after you if I knew what your name in your dream was. Otherwise, I can't help you.

You can watch me kill him. Over and over again. A never-ending feast that one, thanks to the love of our Creator.

I have no desire to watch death without the added bonus of power as that is all I care for. Though I do have a beautiful platter. But then where's the thrill of the chase? I suppose I could give you a hint.

Her heart will bleed until she dies then. Poor childless little whelp. Not that I care. I’m not here for a petty little war.

You might want to get that checked out. Put a heated blade to the wound - stave off infection and all that. A bloodied heart is useless unless it is plated.

The ocean? Like a prison. Not comforting, not at all. I’m not breathing it, not exactly. More like, swallowing, choking, but not dying. I don’t suppose you’ve had to force water from your lungs before. I don’t think I should. 

Strangely enough, I am fairly familiar with that sensation. What an unfortunate dream to have; it sounds horrendous. Alright, keep it to yourself, then. But I reserve the right to laugh in your face when you get your ass handed to you later.

Apollo? What the fuck are you talking about.

Look, look, look, it's funny. Watch.  Ooooh I'm Apollo and I make weird faces. Meeeeh.