“Hoenn still has better dick and beaches.”

I used to do that all the time when I was active. You guys had these nice sets and I just had these randoms. If I ever get active again, maybe I’ll do that.

Dreams were always something important to Brendan. The subject hardly mattered; it wasn’t like they were premonitions or anything. Instead, they told you the story of your own mind. Good dreams were rarely a good thing; they were the mind’s way of easing the person through troubled times. If a person had bad dreams, though, it just proved that the person had more fight in them, as it showed there was still more to take.

It didn’t make it any easier for him, though. Brendan sat up in a rush, his hand immediately clutching the scars on his forehead. He breathed heavily as he tried to calm himself; he still felt his body at a dead drop and the world still spun freely around him as he opened his eyes. He never realized there was someone else in the room with him.

“...Brendan, is... is everything...” No, everything was clearly not alright; why was she even about to ask that question? Winona sat on the side of the bed, albeit shrouded by the darkness enveloping the room. “...I mean... I heard you talking in your sleep, so I came to check on you...”

Yay! Let’s play!