" Hey Terezi, you ever just get like, these weird motherfuckin' nightmares, but the nightmares are just like. Y'know, super realistic and shit? Almost like prophetic visions or some crazy business like that. A motherfucker wakes up in a cold sweat sometimes. " -Gamzee
As soon as her name came out of his mouth did Terezi feel herself droop. So ready to disregard whatever usual nonsense the clown had to go talking about that always wasted her damn time --
He’d immediately hook her.
Feeling a stab in her pusher and with each passing word did he drag her down further into the abyss. Her lungs filling with water, finding it hard to breathe as she felt honest panic run through her veins.
He gets them too?
He. Gets them too?
No. No, this had to be some stupid Makara nonsense, right? He’s just spouting usual bullshit that means nothing. She’s looking too much into it.
Yet Terezi didn’t feel the least bit comforted.
What did he see?
What does he remember?
Arms are crossed defensively, her face turned away as to not get a whiff of him in the slightest.
“No. I don’t. Maybe it’s all that stupid sopor you keep stuffing your face in that’s rotting your thinkpan finally catching up to you.”