(Untitled)

[susurrosmuertos]

After getting settled in Vic's room by her and Nica, it's several hours of fitful sleeping before Ramon fully opens his eyes again. He didn't rest very well; he did a lot of whimpering, twitching and kicking in his sleep, seeing a woman slick with red in all his dreams. But daylight soon comes, a beam of it shining...nngh, right onto his face. His

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[notaquestion]

Yeah, that's Vic. Asleep. Curled up under the fuzzy blanket-thing that inevitably lies beneath the thin coverlet of all hotel beds. She'd gone to bed after Ramon'd stopped kicking so much, which is probably why she's still stone cold unconscious.

She would point out that the owl is Mister Orly and he is hers. But for now, she'll settle with being asleep.

[susurrosmuertos]

Mister Orly is pretty cute and fuzzy, Ramon will admit. Although he will still wonder how he wound up in his arms even after he fell asleep.

He doesn't want to wake Vic up, of course. Although he's still trying to puzzle out how things ended up this way, or why his head is sounding a dull, aching beat. Last night is all kind of hazy, he can't remember what-

Then he remembers the meeting. The girl in the door. The blood. The gunshot. The words. And Ramon is now quite thankful that it's daylight out and he's not alone in this room. Even if his companion is currently fast asleep.

[notaquestion]

Charlene takes this time to ruin his reverie by rolling over towards Ramon.

It's a lot like the boulder chase scene from Indiana Jones, if the boulder had actually been a pebble...and Indiana been, you know. Beeny. Thump. That was her hitting him. And then her eyes open and then Ramon's not the only one who has no idea what is going on.

...Um.

[susurrosmuertos]

There's a great deal more of hazy, half-asleep staring between the two. Yup. Sharing a bed with Vic. Hm. What to say to that.

"...Good. Morning?"

That's a start!

[susurrosmuertos]

"...Oh."

That's all he says for the longest time, frowning a little more, eyes going distant as he thinks, files this all away into what he remembers too. Everything turned red, painful and confusing once that gunshot went off. He had been looking right AT her when she perished, when that bullet went into her mouth and tore out the back of her head, saw the smoke leak from behind her lips and out the exit wound...and then she hung in the air, mouth drooling blood as she continued speaking her laughing words of death forthcoming, eyes shivering in their sockets, rolling and swirling, but always seeming to stay trained on him. Hearing her madness, pain, corruption and hopelessness echo over and over and over in his head. Like earth-caked fingernails digging deep into his brain, like a tongue coated with blood and disease running over his sight and trailing a swath of crimson and insane prophesy that makes him blind with fear, like teeth sinking into his thoughts and chewing and devouring them whole, spitting them back into his head

[notaquestion]

Charlene makes a very concerned face, more than a little worried and off-put by the...stare. Miles away, looked like.

She reaches over to put a hand on his shoulder. "There's something wrong, isn't there. What happened?" You can trust her, Ramon. Really. Look at her face.

[susurrosmuertos]

He's shaken back to the present by her contact, blinking rapidly and looking at her in confusion for a moment. Which is probably better than more of that looking at her with no emotion at all.

"Whu-What...? I-...No, it's--That all just scared me, i-is all." Shyeah. Understatement. But with St. John's warning about some company out there that wants people that can do things they can, he's more careful than before with letting people know about what he sees. Not out of distrust. Just caution. Erring on the side of paranoia.

"I-I don't ever want to see something like that e-ever again." A defeated sigh. "But with, you know, the way things are now...I probably will."

[notaquestion]

She keeps her hand there for a moment, before letting it go after a final squeeze. Fine, don't tell.

"If you say so."

She seems to flop more into the bed, if that's possible. "I don't think that particular horror will, but...yeah. There's probably going to be bad stuff, one way or another." She reaches over idly to pat him again. Or the bed. Whatever.

"But, you know, we're friends and stuff. We'll make it through. Together."