heir of tragedy

@princeblaiddyd

Lyn isn’t surprised when she walks into the training grounds and sees the leader of the Blue Lions there. As always, he was training—either with a lance or a sword—so much to the point that she found herself legitimately wondering if he ever rested.

There wasn’t much she knew about Prince Dimitri personally, but since coming here, she’s heard things. Saddening things. Concerning things. Things that she really had no place or right to speak on.

At the very least, she could tell he carried a great weight on his shoulders.

Once she spots a pause in his training, Lyn calls out to him, smile bright and friendly. “Hey, Your Highness! Still at it, huh?”

Casually, she strolls over, hand loosely rested on the sword at her hip. “Your dedication to your training is admirable, really, but don’t you think you should take a break every once in a while?” 

She jerks her thumb over to the exit, “I was thinking of heading over to the stables and taking one of the horses for a ride… care to join me?”

During a slight lull in his training, one of the new professors calls out to him. He recognized her, Lyn, from past days spent here - she possessed nearly unrivaled skill with a sword. The prince was unashamed of his admiration for her.

“Hello, Professor Lyn. I am still at it indeed. I must keep working diligently so I may one day fulfill my duty.” He relaxes his stance as she approaches.

...Take a break? Well, he had been at this for the past few hours; diligence was important, but so was temperance. As well, a horseback ride sounded like an enjoyable distraction and, if nothing else, gave him an opportunity to get to know her better, which he would gladly accept.

“You do have a point, Professor... There is no harm in resting occasionally, especially after a period of hard work. As for your offer, I would be delighted to join you. It has been quite some time since I rode a horse for leisure and not training.”

Starter for @princeblaiddyd . Bad end Azure Moon AU. May be spoilered for violence later on.

—— You told me ‘yes’; you held me high; and I believed when you told that lie ——

“You know, Caspar, you’ve always impressed me. Dealt such a poor hand by modern society, yet still you never falter and even smile. Always treating others equally, no matter their station. I admire that. Why don’t you join me in the Blue Lions? Together we could make this world a better place—one where one’s Crest or station of birth, one’s lineage or faith, race or ideology, matter not. Where haves and have-nots learn to acknowledge the other’s strengths and respect each other based on personal merits. If we could just accept each other and make mutual concessions, one step at a time… Perhaps—!”

It’d brought a smile to his face to think that someone like him—crown prince, heir of a country!—admired him in turn. That someone so privileged could share his same dream of a world in which all were equal, no matter the cards they were dealt. Even though such a world would only diminish his standing, Dimitri put his all, his privilege and his power, into making that world a reality. He had the strength to enact real change in the world—and Caspar admired him for that. It hadn’t been an easy decision to come to, transferring houses, not with poor distraught Linhardt still standing by the Eagles nor with skeptical Hubert dogging his every move for a week from Edelgard’s side. But Caspar had done what he thought was right, as he was wont to do. He’d never thought he would find cause to regret his choice. But regret he did, that day in the Holy Tomb when he first saw the Faerghus prince’s mask crack, that chilling laugh, the savage way he’d dispensed of all who opposed him, be they aligned with the Flame Emperor or not. There for the first time, he who knew not the meaning of fear felt truly afraid. That was not the Dimitri he knew—but then, which was the real him, and which was the mask? Caspar didn’t know, and none of the other Lions seemed willing to tell him, not even as he worked closely with them in the years following Adrestia’s declaration of war on the continent of Fódlan, when they’d all thought Dimitri and Byleth were dead. Everyone had been so overjoyed when they discovered their king and professor were alive and alright… or at least one of them had been.

Alright. Hah. How naïve they’d been to hope that a murderous vagrant who’d finally shown his true colors could ever go back to the way he’d been before the Holy Tomb.

Where now have your dreams of equality gone? he wonders when he looks at him, raging and frothing at everything and nothing. The only such thing you offer now is death for all who stand in your way.

—— I played soldier; you played king; struck me down when I kissed that ring ——

He’d rejoined the Lions anyway in honor of what Dimitri once was; and besides, this was where his friends were now, not the Empire. He had little doubt in his mind that there was no longer a place for him there after the crimes his new house leader had committed against them in the interim, that he by mere absent unknowing had unwittingly condoned. Perhaps in another time and place, another world, he could have reconnected; but it was just as true that Caspar didn’t want to. Not after what Edelgard had done to Lady Rhea, to Dimitri her stepbrother. Yet looking at what the prince had become after that revelation, how his own childhood friends stood by in damnable silence… Could he truly say that he belonged here, either?

He’d been hoping it was all some kind of phase, some kind of twisted joke that would the sands of time be washed away. Then came the assault on Garreg Mach—led by Uncle Randolph, who was now no more.

He’d had it in his power to save him when they met alone on the ruined monastery grounds, opposing sides and mirrored stance. Seeing his own axe style turned against him hurt—he could scarce believe his uncle had chosen to side with an enemy who’d taken countless innocent lives for the sake of Edelgard’s wicked future. But even so, Caspar couldn’t bring himself to take the head of his uncle, his own blood, he who’d first taught him how to smile…

(A fat lot of good that had done him, in the end.)

Powerless. Weak. Incapable of more than looking on as the last living relative he knew was cut down right before his eyes. Some kind of hero he is—but then again, he knew that already. He has always been weak—too weak even to save his last living relatives from the eternal flames.

He remembers meeting them for the first time in Enbarr, both strong and kind in different ways. Uncle Randolph had traveled to Enbarr from Merceus to formally take his place as a colonel of the Imperial army, Aunt Fleche ever by his side. Though he hadn’t any time to chat, he remembers his uncle finding him after yet another ill-fated tutoring session, slinging an arm over his shoulder and tousling his hair. “A hero never falters!” he’d told him with a smile. “You’ll help no one moping around like that. Now up and at ‘em! That’s it!” He’d had every reason to hate Caspar and Julian, who through their father had stolen from him inheritance of their family’s coveted title. And yet, neither he nor Fleche had harbored Caspar any resentment at all. They’d offered him a glimpse into the kind of life he wanted to lead—treating others equally and always helping those in need.

Two very kind people, both ruined by war. Randolph had lost his life, and so too had Fleche, who’d journeyed alone into the lion’s den, pledging allegiance to her brother’s murderer whilst plotting revenge. He’d known the moment he saw her just what she was here for; yet still he’d held his tongue. For all his talk of justice, Dimitri had not spared any for Randolph the day he died—even delighted in it and dragged it out for nothing but sick joy! To him, Aunt Fleche had been fully justified in doing what she did in the aftermath of Gronder… Yet in the end, she too was slain, while the one at fault still lived.

What hurt most was not the names of they who’d done them in, nor of the ones who’d stood by. Nay, that honor fell to the one they did it for. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, oh-so-holy king of Faerghus. Laughable. That man was little more than an empty husk, a walking coffin filled with promises long dead, and Caspar knows not whether they’d died before the war or in between.

All he knows is that the man he’d once called friend is gone. He’d said as much himself, the day Randolph fell. “If you do not approve of what I have become, then kill me,” he’d proclaimed, with all the defiance of a man who knew that none who heard his demand would comply. “Lest I continue to use you and your friends until the very flesh falls from your bones.”

And what of justice? he thinks to himself. To where have your dreams of equality fled? I chose to follow you because your vision seemed best for people like me. But your vision is twisted, mangled, as surely as your true sight is beneath that patch. And now the only equality you offer is death for all who stand in your way… no matter what they are trying to protect. And now you’ve taken the only family I have left.

If even Byleth won’t rein you in, then I will. I won’t stand to be used for your twisted sense of justice anymore.

Armored boots snap upon the ground, swiftly, furiously—but even enraged as he is, he knows well to muffle his footfalls. Hubert had taught him as much, before… everything had happened. He doubts anyone is paying attention in these forlorn halls, but regardless—it is just as well that it is raining tonight, as it had been in the monastery every day since they’d come together as promised, and rediscovered Byleth, their old professor.

(It was supposed to be a happy occasion, a cause for triumph and reminisce. Why then did the goddess upon them still shed her tears?)

Before long, snaps give way to shuffles as he departs the monastery; tile transitions to grass as he makes for the fields of Gronder. His childhood home. There is little reason for he who abandoned his homeland to be here, but somehow Caspar knows this is exactly where he needs to be. Call it the fresh night air, untainted by the smog of Enbarr or the chill of the north. Call it… destiny. For there ahead of him, striding down the same dark path, is his target, tall and dark, almost blending with the night if not for the azure cape billowing behind him like a tempest lost.

Pale lips pull back to a wild grin upon sighting the target. Eyes shine with near-manic light.

He closes the distance, softly, silently. The rain hides his movements until it is almost too late.

—— You lost that right to hold that crown; I built you up, but you let me down ——

“YOU!!!” The word tears from his lips in a brutal roar; Caspar gives his foe no time to react as his axe whips about, razor edge screaming for his neck. Nothing more needs to be said. The boar prince should know full well why he is here.

He felt a twisted kinship with her, one willing to go so far as to stain her hands with another’s blood at such an age to avenge her fallen brother, so he gave her his permission to join the Kingdom army. Dimitri didn’t give her another thought until after the battle at Gronder when she plunged a sword through his back. As she twisted her blade in the wound with a sick sense of joy he was more than familiar with, he understood that she was the sister of Randolph, the monster who once called himself a man, and she wanted to exact revenge upon him.

But she too had failed that day. Rodrigue had stopped her from dealing the killing blow and struck her down, and that was that... or so it had seemed. Distracted as he may have been as the army made their retreat Dimitri did not miss the expression of Caspar, that energetic young man from the Empire he had met so long ago; he who had kept to his ideals of justice for five long years and who fought harder than anyone during that time to stop Edelgard’s wicked designs. He with so much blood dripping from his hands... His burning spirit had dulled in the months since the professor’s return, and at the moment the prince met his gaze and saw the unbridled fury in those ever-bright eyes, he understood why.

So there was another monster who wanted revenge at Gronder Field... Who was he to deny them the opportunity?

And so the prince slips away from the monastery that night, evading the watchful eyes of Dedue, Gilbert, and the professor. His Hero’s Relic, Areadbhar, is left behind - though the prince’s nighttime travels were no secret, one of the three was bound to notice if it disappeared from his room. Instead, on a whim, he took up an old iron lance left forgotten in the armory. A gift bequeathed long ago to another who bore the name Dimitri, it was supposedly blessed, but surely the blood upon my hands has washed that power away, he thought scornfully. 

The night is cold and the rain unending as he stalks to his destination. The prince is utterly certain Caspar will have done the same, made his way to that field to carry out his own form of justice; though exactly how or why, he cannot say. It is little more than a gut feeling, but never in his life had he felt one so strong. Even the ghosts who plagued his every waking hour are silent before its—

“YOU!!!” 

He throws himself forward - the fury, the near-senseless rage in that one word, tells him everything he needs to know. He whirls to face his opponent, lance at the ready in an instant.

Ah, the joys of life. What more do humans need than a pleasant, slow stroll in the forest, with birds singing above and flowers in bloom below? Well… A lot of things. Food, water, a roof above, some warm clothes, social status, infinite riches, servants that’d be happy to do everything for you… Mostly food. And especially much for feasts, like the one planned on the 8th. Having just returned from the hellscape that were the sands of Morfis, Python was reluctant to dive right back into Monastery activity, but this task was less… bothersome, than the rest. Especially with companions like this.

No, calling them companions would be incorrect: if anything, he jumped on the opportunity to get out of the gates and spend a day with his trusty bow, instead of hanging tapestries on the walls. His duty was primarily overseeing Dimitri, checking his stance and his movements - in other words, what he’d been doing since his arrival at Garreg Mach. This time, however, the day had an end goal: find prey big enough to guarantee at least a few full stomachs. He didn’t really get why the request was so specific and why they couldn’t just shoot a few partridges and call it a day, but, in hindsight, if the prince’s skills really were rusty, something bigger might’ve been easier on him.

Still… even with his help, it might not have been enough. Python didn’t doubt himself or his skill, but as it goes with archery, there’s always a chance something will go wrong. A sudden gust of wind, though barely noticeable this close to the ground, could alter the arrow’s path just enough for it to miss and the animal to flee. There was always something that could jump out the back, either just startling the archer or even attacking him. This is why he preferred not to go hunting alone, often taking Tobin on these journeys. Of course, he’d go alone if he had to, but he didn’t have to. And going with Dimitri wasn’t nearly going alone, he’d still have his blade at his side and everything, but returning after an entire day with their hands empty? That could’ve incurred wrath on them both and he specifically wouldn’t be allowed in the cafeteria for the next month, no less. Luckily, there wasn’t a lack of good Snipers even at Garreg Mach.

And Claude was one as well. The leader of the Golden Deer, the most down to the earth leader one could find here. Not that the other two were bad, just less approachable. After all, it was Dimitri who asked his professor to come with him, not the other way round. And, thankfully, it was Claude who accepted the professor’s request to come with them. 

And now the three were walking along a forest path, soon to leave it to the side and proceed deeper into the trees. Relaxed but on the lookout for anything moving in the leafage, he was staying to the left, allowing the prince to take the lead, when he realised he didn’t really know what the plan was. Not too bad, he’d got used to winging it, but still, he felt at least the need to ask:

“So uh, your Highness? What’re we lookin’ for?”

First and foremost he of course wanted to fulfill the kitchens’ request for some meat - a chance to help out, no matter how, was always worth the effort it took - but the opportunity to improve his archery by choosing to hunt with bows and two skilled archers alongside him to boot was very welcome indeed. And now, out in the quiet of the woods, the prince found himself becoming very relaxed indeed. Of course, there was the chance that it wouldn’t last as they opened themselves up to the dangers of the forest, but he was confident enough in everyone’s abilities that this was the smallest of issues.

They were nearing their exit from the path when the professor spoke up with a question - Did Dimitri neglect to tell him what they were even hunting?! What a careless mistake!

“I apologize, I must have completely forgotten to tell you. I was intending to track down some deer; they’re of the right size to bring to the kitchens for the request, they would make decent targets for me to improve with, and, being docile, they pose no danger to us if something goes wrong. This task should prove simple and enjoyable enough, I hope.”

Having explained himself to the professor, Dimitri turns to his fellow student - “I didn’t forget to tell you too, did I, Claude?”

The air is filled with sparks of energy. Okay, yes, the Leicester Alliance Founding Day was coming up, and everyone was feeling excited about the activities and the food—she took a peek at the menu and her mouth was already watering at the thought of tasting all these new foods—but that was still some days away; there was still some excitement, but it wasn’t from Founding Day or the packs of farmers that crowd to the chapel in a pilgrimage to pray to their goddess. 

No… it’s the dope vendor she heard about in the marketplace. 

She passes some students by, and she makes sure to greet them with a wave and a big grin. (The monastery is so lively, and she can’t wait to go home and tell Alfonse and Kiran all about it). She’s actually looking for friends, rather more familiar friends. In Askr, the Heroes Kiran summoned had all bonded with each other and her, and she always felt no problem hanging out with any of them. Here, it’s different. She doesn’t have Alfonse to rely on or think about, nor Kiran to share her jokes and observations with. Lips purse together momentarily. So, who should she go see the vendor with. Several seconds pass when she thinks, and then she shrugs her shoulders, still unsure before turning on her heels and continuing her exploration. 

First stop on her search for friends: The Knight’s Hall! Sharena pushes the doors open and—

“Prince Dimitri!” She brightens up as soon as she sees the familiar blue, and trotting over to him, she says, “Hey, hey! Did you hear about the cool swords vendor in the marketplace? Would you want to go with me? Maybe afterwards we can get some sweets.” A bright grin, and another half step forward, held up in front of her in fists, mostly out of excitement. “It’d be fun, don’t you think?”

For the moment, though, his mind was occupied with another round of daily lance training. Not even anticipation of the festival could dull the prince’s appetite for exercise and improvement. He’d just picked up a lance from the rack when he heard an excited voice call out his name from the doorway. Dimitri turned to see a head of blonde hair, attached to Sharena of Askr.

Before he knew it he had been invited to go with her, that very moment, to the marketplace for sword-shopping. A very tempting request, he had to admit, and a good opportunity to get to know a fellow Lion... Oh, fine. Training could wait an hour or two.

“That does sound like fun. I was just about to do some training, but I accept. I would be happy to join you, Sharena.”

Put a symbol (or several) my ask box, and I’ll give supply a headcanon for it~ OR You can send and supply one, and I’ll let you know if it’s accepted or not.

☾ - Sleep headcanon

★ - Sad headcanon

☆ - Happy headcanon

☠ - Angry/Violent headcanon

■ -  Bedroom/House/Living quarters headcanon

♥ - Family headcanon

☮ - Friendship headcanon

♦ - Quirks/Hobbies headcanon

☯ - Likes/Dislikes headcanon

▼ - Childhood headcanon

♒ - Cooking/Food headcanon

☼ - Appearance headcanon

◉ - Any other question of your choosing

✿ - Random headcanon from the Mod about anything

Send me some numbers and a character name and I will tell you:

What does their bedroom look like?

Do they have any daily rituals?

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Makeup?

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Intellectual pursuits?

Favorite book genre?

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Favorite beverage?

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

What is their biggest regret?

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Most prized possession?

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Concept of home and family?

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

What makes them feel guilty?

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

How misanthropic are they?

Hobbies?

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

Religion?

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

How do they express love?

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

A selection of headcanon questions based around the various items within Undertale! If sent to a multi-muse blog be sure to specify who the question is for!

as requested by @andy-anarchist

Bandage: How high or low is their pain tolerance?

Monster Candy: Are they the type to stuff their pockets with “take-a-piece” candies when no one is looking?

Spider Donut: How stingy are they about food? How about with money?

Spider Cider: What kind of drinks (alcoholic or nonalcoholic) do they refuse to drink? Is there a reason they won’t drink it?

Butterscotch Pie: What’s their favorite dessert?

Snail Pie: Do they have any kind of memory attached to certain foods? Are they reminded of those memories when they eat that food?

Snowman Piece: Do they enjoy traveling? If so, what are some of their favorite places that they’ve explored so far?

Nice Cream: Are they the type to try to be a better person? If so, how do they do so?

Bisicle: What kinds of things can they not get enough of?

Unisicle: Are there any kind of things they enjoy eating but can only consume in small portions? Why is that?

Astronaut Food: What kind of snacks do they prefer to carry on hand if they need to?

Crab Apple: Do they like anything that’s bitter or sour or do they avoid them entirely?

Sea Tea: Are they a hasty sort of person? Do they want instant-gratification or do they not mind a wait or what they want?

Abandoned Quiche: Do they have any comfort foods they turn to on a bad day?

Dog Salad: What kind of food do they enjoy that other people typically find disgusting or questionable?

Instant Noodles: Do they eat any kinds of food in a different manner than it’s usually served?

Junk Food: Are they the type to avoid throwing out food as much as possible?

Bad Memory: What is something that haunts them, something they can’t seem to forget or chase away no matter how hard they try?

Last Dream: What do they strive to achieve in their life at all costs?

Toy Knife: What kinds of toys did they prefer growing up, if any? Do they keep any even now or have they given them all up?

Tough Glove: Are they the sort to put on a tough act or do they crumble easily under pressure?

Ballet Shoes: Do they have any hobbies or passions that are physically demanding in some way?

Torn Notebook: Are they the sort to need to work out their feelings and thoughts through writing or drawing? Do they find meaning in the practice?

Burnt Pan: How well do they cook? Do they enjoy it or do they actively avoid doing it if they can?

Empty Gun: Do they collect any sort of weapons as a hobby? If so, why?

Worn Dagger: Are they good at taking care of tools/equipment or do they tend to neglect or forget to?

Real Knife: Are they skilled with any sort of weapon? Did they pick up the skill for any practical reasons or as a hobby?

Faded Ribbon: Do they like to accessorize? What accessories do they prefer overall?

Manly Bandanna: Do they tend to decorate their things with pins or drawings? What are some of their favorite things to decorate with if they do?

Old Tutu: Are they the type to put effort into their appearance every day or do they only prefer to do so on special occasions?

Cloudy Glasses: Are they a pessimist or an optimist? Or are they somewhere in between?

Temmie Armor: What kind of an education do they have?

Stained Apron: Are they messy when they cook or do they tend to clean things up as they go?

Cowboy Hat: How do they feel about body hair in general?

Heart Locket: What sorts of things do they do for their friends? Do they tend give more than they get for their loved ones?

Locket: Do they have any items they keep dearly because of sentimental reasons? What is it and why is it so important to them if so?

Annoying Dog: Do they have or have they had any kind of pets?

Dog Residue: How well do they handle being around animals, or how they feel about animals in general?

Mystery Key: How often do they keep secrets about themselves from others? Are there any specific reasons they do so or is it just how they are in general?

Instead of a specific plot to work around, here’s a list of settings that all feature a melancholy, moody, or creepy atmosphere. Simply send me a symbol for a setting you want to RP in, and I’ll either make a starter or approach you to plot!

🌕A full moon night with wind whistling through the trees

🌊The seashore late at night, with lightning over the water in the distance

🏤Stepping into a house that gives off all the wrong vibes

🍁A cold day in late autumn, which is silent and deeply lonely

🎹Nighttime in an ancient house/manor, with the tinkling of piano keys from the next room

💧 Rain in the early morning, so dark that there’s hardly a sunrise

⛪A church right after a funeral, a small handful of people dressed in black hanging their heads in silence

🌳A maze-like forest at dusk, with a sense of anxiety as the sun disappears

⛵On the beach before dawn as remnants of a ship wreck wash onto shore

🍂A chilly, overcast autumn afternoon

🌃Midnight in a busy city, sirens blaring a few blocks away

🎃After dark on Halloween night after trick-or-treating ends

🚘Sitting with a popped tired on the side of a long stretch of road, waiting

⚡Distant thunder from a massive storm headed straight this way

🥀An overgrown garden of nothing but poisonous (or dead, dry) plants

🌾An eerie plot of farmland with seemingly no one around for miles

🐊Murky swampland with posted warnings to keep people away

🔥 A roaring bonfire in the distance on a pitch black night, with dark silhouettes crowded or dancing around it

🚧Standing near old, abandoned train tracks when the bell starts to ring

🐟Taking a swim on an uninhabited plot of beach, noticing ripples in the water

🌿An old-fashioned plantation with secretive locals and a bitter history

💀A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt

🚇A dingy old subway station, walls chipped to pieces, while waiting for a ride home

🌈The sad silence after a violent storm, debris and wreckage everywhere

👗An attic full of musty clothes and antiques belonging to someone long-dead

❄ A snowstorm locking everyone in their homes, with electricity flickering

🍄An enchanting plot of forest or stream, tiny whispers cutting the silence

🌑Inside of a re-occurring nightmare had time and time again

☔Taking a long walk with an umbrella, struggling with a low, low mood

☕At a quiet cafe, but unfamiliar folk are whispering and staring

🌵A winding road through the desert with only one dingy hotel, its ‘vacancy’ light flickering red

💤Dreaming of scraping nails gainst the window glass, and waking to still hear it