Any sense of body horror aside a voice sounds out from within Mallews confines, 'first time?'
The voice at first strikes him as yet another of the many strange beings that came to haunt him, but after a moment (and some contemplation of his most recent round of awful wretching), he lifts his head, staring about in a state of dazed confusion.
His senses, obfuscated by pain and exhaustion, take some time to finally track down and react to the presence, recognizing it as...something else.
"...y-yea," he manages to blurt out, focusing on the presence as his senses swim, finishing his thought before returning his attention to the expulsions of his flesh and blood, "any advice you care to give, stranger?"
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The sound rattled through the air of the mansion like a distant roar, rattling off of dusty, quiet halls with no one to oppose it.
Not a spirit seemed to stir, nor had there been any that seemed to react to the anon’s presence.
The space seemed well and truly empty, only the cold creak of dimly-lit halls settling in the frigid air, a chill of quickly approaching winter making the now years-old mansion settle on its foundation, creak as if it were built of mere wood and bolts, and not malice and illusion.
The master of the house, however, was nowhere to be seen...at least not within the walls of his eerie mansion.
Standing amidst a low garden of raggedy, thin, and clearly struggling (but still alive) hedges, withering flowerbeds, and failed, gnarled saplings was a tall figure, cloaked in a long, black coat.
The hood of their coat was over their head, their broad shoulders slumped, at ease as they stood amongst the gently falling snow. A hand, ending in sharp, short black claws was reaching out towards the falling flakes, as if to catch one, only for each flake to dissipate as they neared the monster’s skin, melted as if by unnatural heat.
Milling about in the frigid garden were several cats, leaving small, crisp pawprints in the snow, galivanting about as the figure stood, silent amongst the sea of softly falling flakes, the area directly around him untouched by the frigid snow...
How long had it been since he was last outside, anyway?
((You didn't specificy pre or post Triangle Mer-Lew, so you get both versions!))
Lewis was suprised by the suddenly object being tossed at him, the doll thwacking off of the mershark's head as he surfaced to take a curious peek at a large freighter passing in the distance.
Picking the doll up from where it laid, flopped across his face, he's quite pleased with the little object, the mershark casually fiddling with the plushie's little tentacles before silently submerging again, both the merman and the doll gone without a trace, just as fast as they came.
~~~
The titanic sea monster was quite busy right now, but the plushie rebounding off his head did catch his attention.
The creature was currently near the surface, hoping to pick off the last stragglers of a ship he'd just attacked, the tiny doll floating amongst the debris of the ship, amongst rent metal and torn wood...
Well, it was enough to rile him up into a frenzy.
Whatever poor souls were left aboard that sinking ship had little hope now, Lewis tearing the doll, the ship, and all its shattered remains apart with renewed violence.
Thankfully, the bookkeeper realizes what’s happening shortly after they’re thrown, and, knowing their bookshop better than anyone else, they’re able to maneuver themselves, mid-air, to avoid crashing into the nearby checkout counter, only grazing it instead, tumbling to the floor with some semblance of grace.
That being said, they are now quite angry, and given it’s currently their lunch break and no one is in the store, they’ve time to bring you pain, anon.
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Well, that was a poor decision, regardless of timeline...~~~The main timeline's Arthur is easily caught by Lewis, who, quickly switching into skeleghost mode, is now aiming an angry, fiery fist directly for the anon's face. Bad decision there, friend.~~~In Ghost!Arthur's timeline, the fiery ghost quickly rebounds in the air, turning to face the anon and-...oh. Oh boy. Yep, that is definitely him breathing fire in their general direction. Not a good time, that's for sure.~~~A certain tiny Arthur is also yeeted in another timeline, thankfully caught by his human bae, Lewis, as he walks in from working a long day in his parents' restaurant, the duo quickly joined by a tiny Vivi, leaping down from the rafters and landing onto the anon's face, the tiny borrower woman going directly for their eyes, intending to scratch them up good. Hope those sunglasses protect you, friend.~~~And, finally, in one last timeline, a certain cecaelia Arthur gets yeeted high out of water, letting out loud, unholy shrieks in the cryptic language of the merpeople, him shrieking even LOUDER as a giant mershark monster coming leaping up out of the water after him, just barely missing snapping him up in his many rows of sharp, angry teeth.Seems you actually managed to get this Arthur a safe distance from the Lewis actively hunting him in this timeline, well done...although I wouldn't stick around for long: without Arthur to hunt, the giant, cursed mershark will turn his hunt to the next closest living thing, and you're it, friend.Best start swimming.
M!A: mallew falls asleep and gets a full and peaceful rest. Nothing can hurt or bother him during this time, not even himself. Let the poor man rest!
((Gonna drop this below a read-more, mostly because it got a bit long. Enjoy this fricker finally getting some sleep. :V))
There was resistance as the magic took hold, Mallew stumbling towards the anon with anger, violence in his eyes, their words heard but not believed.In his mind, he had already concluded that any sleep at all would be in his end, that he wouldn’t survive another encounter with that thing in the back of head…And thus this anon was out to murder him, and he responded to their spell about as violently as he could in his current state. He lashed out at the anon with his claws as he struggled, head nodding, body heavy as he fought on the edge of unconsciousness, growling violent threats as he tried to breathe fire at them, but instead just exhaled a few small puffs of flame, his words slurred, losing their grip on the air around him, uttered quieter and quieter as his body quickly gave in to the magic…His mind was quick to follow.Collapsing on the tile of his kitchen, the malevolent spirit finally slept, diving deep into his subconscious mind, leaving all semblance of the waking world behind…His last thought was nothing but terror.
Terror and fear.~~~There was warmth.Warmth and light.A gentle breeze that swept across his skin, like the touch of a loved one.There was no danger, no creeping sense of dread, no distant, nagging voice of his urges, nor any feeling of something coming for him…Yet still, he was afraid.He would not be fooled: he knew he had to be on his guard.Mallew rose, sitting up and looking at the world around him: a vast field, reaching to the horizon in all directions, the sun shining in the sky above, bright yet not harsh, a few small, wispy clouds in the beautiful blue sky, and all around him…Flowers.Field after field of flowers, as far as the eye could see:Purple crysanthemums.Tall, bright sunflowers, shading the crysanthemums beneath.Orchids, roses, daisies, hibiscus trees, cherry blossoms, guzmanias, mums, and so many, many more flowers he couldn’t even name off the top of his head, vines, trees, and flowerbeds stretching to the horizon, all living, growing in harmony in the calm, summery breeze…This couldn’t be real, could it?He knew that he was dreaming, and was convinced that it would be his end…but he felt calm, watching all the flowers all gently wave in the wind, no sign of suffering or danger, no reason visible to doubt that what he was seeing was true.Could he really be having a good dream?“…”He couldn’t even remember what that felt like, anymore: even on his best nights, with Dana held close to him, when all his doubts and fears were scrubbed away, the best case scenario for his dreams was a simple, restless blackness that he would awaken from, almost always associated with a sense of dread, and at worst…
Well, he already knew what his dream were like at their worst, to say the least.Regardless, he decided to test this place’s legitimacy, him taking one step forward and-Almost tripping over himself.“!!!”A bed.There was a bed, sitting directly in front of him.It hadn’t been there a second ago.Just a bed, in a field of flowers…it looked comfortable, though, covered in a puffy purple comforter, several fluffy pillows, and a copious amount of alpaca plushies.The sight of it made the anon’s echo in his mind again, reminding him why he had been sent to this place in the first place…‘Let the poor man rest…’Well, he could at least try.
He laid down on the bed, quickly drawing the pillows and plushies in around him, the man nestled in comfortably in their midst, letting the breeze gently brush over his skin, the smell of the flowers waft around him, and, finally…Let his eyes slide shut.There was no fear.No nervousness.No terror, nor promise of terror.Only calm, quiet, and contentment.“…”Mallew slid one eye open, just a crack, just enough to see the outside world one last time before giving in to sleep, watching as the sky over head calmly, peacefully change into a warm, glittering night, the stars and moon above his only light…Yes, he would get some rest and when he woke up…Things would be better.~~~“Y͢ou ̢m̡ov͘e him!”̨"No̷, Y̵OÙ m̵o̷v͠e̷ ͞h͜im!̨"̛͘͜"Why ąre͡ we͜ ̀ęven t҉r̶y͢i͢ņg ͘t̷o m̢o̧v́e͠ ̢him ҉at͡ a̴l̨l? ҉H̸e's͘ n̛ot̶ r̨ea͜ll̢y in ͜the̶ ̀w̷ay͡ of̀ an͝yţh̀in͏g.̸.̴.̴"҉“You ̵know̷ h͝e's̴ j̶ust ̧g̨ònna̕ h̛e ̧mad̷ ͠when̴ ͏h̢e ̛w̵a̴k̶es͘ ͠u̸p̀ and̸ ̨he's͠ ̀si̴tti̸n̕g̨ on ̕t͜he͘ ̢k̨i̴tche͟n ̕f͢l͞o͞o̢r! ̶A̢n͟d͝ ýo͠u ͠K̵NOW͘W̴WW h͘o͡w b͞ad ̧he ͡įs wh͏e͢n ̶h̕e͡'̡s͡ ̴a͢n̷gry-͏”“What’s all the commotion in here?”Edgewright floated into the kitchen, spotting a trio of Deadbeats floating around Mallew’s passed out form, the dapper spirit raising a quizzical eyebrow.“What…happened in here?” “̶Mast̕e͞r̵ Mall̸e͡w̢ wa͞s ̵h̡it͏ b҉y ҉a sleepinģ ͘sp͜el̴l!̵” ҉"̢Ąn͜ a̸no͏n ̢d̛i̵d̵ ̨it: ͞he̸'͝s̀ ̸s̵u͝p͠p͝osed͡ ̀t͡o ͞get som҉e͡ rest҉ ͟and s̢l̡e͝ep r̷e̴a̴l̕ly̶ well.͝"“An anon did that?”“Ýea:͏ we̵ird,̛ ͝r͟ight?͜” Edgewright didn’t respond, only stared down at the passed out form of the master of the house, contemplating his next move…“You all,” the superior spirit stated, snapping his fingers, the Deadbeats quickly falling into line in front of him, one even giving a small salute, “let’s move Master Mallew to the master bedroom, lest we have to deal with a tantrum when he wakes up.”The quartet of ghosts quickly got to work, hoisting Mallew’s tall frame all the way up to the master bedroom on the second floor, casually tossing him onto his bed without much ceremony at all, and even less concern for the position he was in…“There,” said Edgewright, clapping his hands together, looking down at Mallew, flopped out, leg half hanging off the bed as he slept, sound as a baby, splayed out like a ragdoll, “that ought to do it.” The ghost quickly floated away, the Deadbeats following him, only one of small spirits delaying, retrieving and placing one of Mallew’s alpaca plushies next to his head before quickly fleeing away, closing the door behind them…Yes, in both the waking and dreaming world, Mallew was finally getting some rest.And nothing in the world would harm him until he awoke, not even himself. And even then, waking with a clear mind, he may yet realize one simple fact, a fact that simply refused to nestle in his corrupted, painful, and slowly healing mind…Everything would be alright.Everything would be alright.
