Characters involved are: Reoite (RED), Brin (ORANGE), Sigurd (GREEN), Citan (BLUE),
Logged by Brin

---

Khiea's Dream: Dreams Remembered
You reach the top of the hill, finding yourself... Inside? All of a sudden, you hear the small cry of struck metal as your feet fall upon it.. As here and about the area is carved of metal, and for a reason or another you could -swear- you were in the center and heart of a simple laboratory of sorts. Machines lay scattered about the hilltop but, for some reason, the effect is warm, loving, as if such were things of pleasantries, taking all of the metal is painted in such pretty pastel colors that they all look rather, well, nice.
Two other specific things catch your interest here- the small, circular table that stands rather randomly up in the middle of this area and the one-story house. The table holds a few sets of chairs and a full, pink-hued, well loved child's tea set upon it. The house.. Is bright purple.
<Exits: <D>own, or <E>nter the House.>
Contents:
a Bright Purple House


Citan has arrived.
Citan (OOC) nods.
Citan (OOC) arranges his description.
Brin (OOC) says, "Ah. Good plan"
Citan (OOC) nods. "That is interesting..."
Citan (OOC) says, "Would you like to start? I will probably not be visible yet."
Brin (OOC) nods.
Brin sits quietly at the small child's table, his chin resting on one of his cupped hands, grinning widely at a small kitten that appears to be traversing a mock obstacle course between the quaint cups and saucers that scatter the table he rests his elbows on. The small kitten, purrs gently, as it pads gracefully in circles around the arrangement on the table. The kitten appears to draw its marching to a close, coming to rest in a standing position in the middle of the table, staring directly at the face of the Etone, whose grin never fades from its almost eerie wideness. With a broad chuckle, brin leans back, claps his hands, and the kitten leaps onto his shoulder, and nibbles his earlobe affectionately, or almost as a reassuring gesture. With a mock flourish, Brin sweeps one of the dainty little cups up by the handle, between two fingers, and luxuriously drinks at nothing, pursing his lips in mock relish at this nonexistent beverage.
Strange, how the Dream reacts so keenly to its... well, call them not masters--for it truly controls them--but its chosen toys. As one may not realize the difference between blue and -blue- until the shades have been drawn at last, so has the Dream remained... muted, almost. Serene. For the attentions of its two chosen have been fully in its darker half, and there has been little time for -playing- for either of them. No; it is with a concious decision to relax that Citan lifts his head, sensing the motions of a stray sleeper within the confines of this realm... and goes to join them, perhaps to rest in truth. Fade from realms of fire. And here, now, the Dream draws in a breath... scattering a wind as it perks up as eagerly as a hound to the sound of a familiar hand at the door. Petals suddenly begin to tumble along the breeze--sakura blossoms, just a few, scattering along the table.
Citan (OOC) apologizes for posing rather... disjointedly...
Dreams...have always held a sort of strange appeal for this young Etone, whose dreams, while those of someone trained to fight and perhaps kill, always held an...almost childish quality. Thus, his dreams were always...disjoint from reality, as dreams perhaps should. As the blossoms drift across the table, Brin stares bemusedly, as he reaches out and catches one as it drifts by. Dreams, being so far from reality, always held a sort of childish appeal to him. He holds the petal close, and allows the sweet smell to fill his senses, allowing it then to float away on the wind. His shoulder-mounted companion espies a newcomer to the scene, and drops from the shoulder to the table, mewing slightly, as if to draw attention. Brin strokes the kitten gently, not bothering or caring to folow its gaze just yet.
Petals tumble, petals weave, and even the one released by Brin joins a swirl around the kitten. Dream-stuff? Dreams. A minor thought given aside to trace roots of manifestation--logic held its own place in this realm, or perhaps... perhaps it only did because of the nature of half its pillars. Then the blossoms collect, swirling in place around one of the chairs like a cloud of fireflies, a glow fringing each delicate petal before they begin to fade. One by one, the sakura melt back into the pool of collective imagination that they have been drawn from. Bit by bit, the form of a man begins to come into view... as if from far away, translucent now but gaining clarity. "Brin? I did not expect to see you here so quickly," comes the muse, even before the face has fallen into opacity. And one so much younger than the face which has seen the Etone before, a voice stronger with lack of age. "Although I should have expected it. Has it been a pleasant stay so far?"
Brin stares directly at the manifestation as it develops from nothing, not batting an eyelid, yet retaining the grin. To Brin, dreams, as they may to some, did not serve to resolve issues unresolved, nor to hypothesise about what might have been. Because of this, he appears surprised to hear a voice familar to corporeality, in this, his childish playtime. His arm, which had been stroking the kitten, swims slowly to his mouth, which has puckered into a look of mock surprise, mixed with confusion. Wordless, his finger touches the puckered mouth, like some melodramatic, and amateurish player, playing the fool. The kitten raises from its contented purr on the table, and with a nonchalant bound, replaces herself on the Etone's shoulder. Regarding the newcomer with a look of near disdain, tinged with curiousity, the kitten, leans, and appears to nibble on Brin's earlobe conspiratorially. Brin looks up, as the apparition gains full form. ... "We...know you...".
"You do indeed, Brin Gaisce." There is no hesitancy here for Citan to pull information from what serves as the mind, and he does not need to stumble while organizing different thoughts. So much sharper here, the man is, but yet with a hint of something less kind about him. At least so far as when the dream-flesh of his youth cloaks him, petitioning his name to be not the Lamb's Citan, but the Solarian's Hyuga. Brown eyes examine the kitten, and then almost -beyond- the feline... ah, so that is who she is from, and no, she has not changed between now and the first time you have noticed her. "Your kitten is rather charming. Would you like some more tea?" A hand, now solid, finds a cup for himself and begins to pour.
Brin (OOC) wonders, 'that is who she is from' ?
Citan (OOC) says, "The kitten... is generated from you? I did not expect that she was an actual kitten, although I could be wrong..."
Brin (OOC) says, "No. The kitten is purely a figment of Brin's imagination. And it's not Asanta. :)"
Brin swings his head around, slowly, looking almost as if it is an effort to move, looking into the eyes of the kitten. What looks for all the world like a knowing look is exchanged between them for a second. Brin's head drifts back to loooking directly at Citan. "We'd love some..." he intones, the puzzled look returning. Best to humour him, although for now, the premise that this apparition is but a figment in this dream, stranger then most, remains in Brin's mind. "That is...I would...And Reoite..." he glances over at the kitten, who has already begun its small leap to the bare spot at the centre of the tabletop. It lands, crouching its front paws, as it glares suspiciously up at Citan.
Reoite purrs, and spits "...Got any milk?".
Citan (OOC) collapses the kitten's wavelength into a saucer.
Brin (OOC) grins.
No stranger to the visitors who wander in and believe themselves to still be within the confines of their own sleeping souls, Citan merely nods. A motion of the hand, to show the back and then the palm, reveals that he has had a saucer in his grasp all along. Smoothly tossed upon the table, and Citan looks for the bottle of milk that will appear the moment that it is not being watched by anyone. Conveniences, after all. And it was so... -uncouth- to simply draw things out of nothingness without a little of the obedience to this dream's flow--it was his nature, it was that of Khiea, and... ah. It was there. Tilting the container, Citan pours for the kitten. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Reoite." That being done, the man nudges the bottle of milk over to one side of the table and then takes to tea for Brin. "Is it well for you here?" A more coherant question, considering that effects from Nightmare may have bled over to this side.
Sigurd has arrived.
Citan (OOC) glares briefly at Sigurd. "My... bear."
Sigurd (OOC) smiles sweetly.
Citan (OOC) recovers and waves. "Ah, we are both in our younger clothes..."
Sigurd (OOC) says, "Of course."
Brin (OOC) says, "apologies. Unexpected AFK."
Citan (OOC) nods. "No need to worry."
Sigurd (OOC) will wait a round or two, he has a few things to finish up before he can devote his more or less full attention.
Citan (OOC) says, "Currently, I am having tea with Brin... and his kitten is having a saucer of milk upon the table."
Brin regards Reoite with a look of disdain, and surprise. "Reoite! Behave!" he reprimands the kitten's rudeness. The kitten merely reagrds him for a seconds, before hissing lightly, and turning to its saucer, not casting a second glance to Citan before beginning to lap down the contents of the saucer. Brin's face is the picture of mock anger, as he waves a slow-motion finger at the kitten, in the manner of a scolding mother. He looks up to Citan. "Apologies...You can't take a kitten to milk, but you can milk a kitten...was that it?" he shakes his head slowly, and shifts his weight slightly on the chair. "No...scratch that. Reverse it..." he muses, as the kitten savagely attacks the contents of the saucer, spilling almost as much as she drinks.
Reoite laps enthusiastically at the saucer. "Mmm....good....good...". The saucer scrapes around the table as she gradually empties it.
Hyuga watches the antics of the kitten and the behavior of Brin calmly, leaning back in his garden chair. It is almost... well to be here, to relax and to keep but half an imaginary finger upon the stopper between this world and the other. As close as a shadow, as dear as a breath--the Nightmare rages free, fully clasping Khiea within its hold, but even rage may fade into despair. Ironic, that the girl must turn to that before the Dream is calm. But while that rolls on, Hyuga can rest and--hello. There is someone... is there? Turning his head about--although it is only politeness, to keep to a physical reaction--Hyuga fades slightly back into a glassy transparancy as his concentration shifts. Is that? Yes... oh, Sigrd. Do visit. Would you like to come?
Brin (OOC) wonders if Sigrd is posing, or skipping...
Hyuga (OOC) thinks there is an opening... not too much is exploding yet.
Sigrd (OOC) poses then...
~To wake is to work. To sleep is to play. And stress is forgotten at the end of the day. No more jobs nor stressful things that tire. Not now, not -ever-, for the Element of Fire.~ Oh, so Sigrd was no poet, but he had fun, and fun was all that mattered. True enough, he knew this was not what he was now, but it mattered little to him, he was asleep, and he'd enjoy himself to the fullest while it lasted, before he had to wake to the stressful lif he lived. But enough about that, ignore reality, ignore responsibility, ignore pain and suffering that he felt raging in the Nightmare. Fun was all he was about, all he ever wanted, spare friendship. But then, weren't friends the bringers of fun? Good then! The more the merrier, and with that thought he aproached the pair from seemingly out of nowhere, too blue eyes alight with that familiar mischief Hyuga knew meant nothing but trouble. "A party and you did not invite me?" Ignas tongue, but it disolves oddly into Solarian by the end of his breath.
Brin (OOC) apologises for lateness. Distractions....
Hyuga (OOC) shakes his head. "No need to apologize."
Brin alternates his stare slowly between this man he recognises as Citan, and the newcomer. So much like a version of a man he knows, but...he's never seen this man before, be it in the corporeal or ethereal realms, his dreams usually being inhabited with only what he bids them contain. He gently, and with great overflourish lifts the quaint teacup to his lips, his lips pursed, his little finger sticking out, as he slurps loudly. He regards who he knows as Citan, and squints. "You're...different...".
Reoite finishes her loud slurping, as the saucer gives up yielding its contents, and she sits back, licking contentedly at her paws, and purring throughout. She slowly opens one eye, and regards this new one critically. "Who're you, then?"
"That is a possible understatement." Yes. Different. For Citan while awake is but confused and stumbling, with rare flashes of insight breaking their way through like the moon revealing its face only by necessity through the storm's clouds. Hyuga here is clear and composed. He has fought hard to be so, and this is a temperance which does not fail, even under the duress it currently must suffer. The measure of his calm stretches out--it soothes this side of the Dream, while Khiea is off and Mistress of the Nightmare. "But I have invited you, Sigrd. Please, do sit." Another chair is here--what luck!--and a glass of fresh cider. And is that welcome, leaping in those brown eyes as Citan finally may greet one who he has not the chance to properly yet? Ah, remember Sigurd, remember that Hyuga is here and aware, and has not been fully lost. In a sense. "You have met Brin here, of course. This is his kitten, Reoite. Would you like some more milk, Reoite?"
A talking kitten, nothing new. Nothing more strange than exploding ones. A grin somehow found its way to Sigrd's lips as he pulled up the chair indicated, reaching to gently scritch the kitten's chin with a gloved hand. "I'm Sigrd." Not Sigurd. Not distorted by the Ignas language's hard sounds, rather smoothed by the Solarian tongue, or perhaps it was his own native tongue, but more likely the former. The hand then draws back, catching the glass on its way and bringing it to his lips as his gaze wanders to the Water Element nearby. "I always told you I could see right through you." Oh fine, resort to puns, resort to teasing, as per usual. Well it was partly Hyu's fault for letting his physical state degrade as such earlier, wasn't it?
A look of realisation crosses Brin's face. Another visitor from reality? This is too much. As Brin reagrds Sigurd, in his...less conservative dress than as he knows him in reality, and turns, to look again at Citan, he realises, just how... o 0 ( ..Wait a minute...I'm dreaming?... ) Conscious thought levers itself into Brin's sleepy mind, as his simple childish dream is jolted into lucidity by the two sitting across from him. He didn't wish them here, they appeared as if of their own volition. This wasn't normal. A low cough from Brin reaffirms his awakeness, at least in the sense of his realisation that yes, he is here, and there are two other people talking to him. People. His face drops, and he stares at the two across from him. He looks down to Reoite, who returns his stare, and a short, silent conversation ensues. Brin looks up again, and remains silent. "Oh...oh my...".
Reoite, after breaking off her stare with Brin, and regally allowing Sigrd to scratch her, sits up, and regards the two. She asks bluntly "So. You two are real, then. Why are you in our dream?".
Was it? Well, he had simply, "...been distracted," is the half-formed reply, said aloud at the last only as the afterthought rings that perhaps it would be polite to let thoughts extend past Khiea, and past the touches of empathy of the former Fire Element. "This is rather interesting, is it not?" Hyuga turns his head back to regard Brin thoughtfully. The Guardian's own composure may be jarring against the context of a traditional dream--but who really knew how little or how much it mattered? For so many, these times would fade away into naught more than the fuzzy glamours that had distracted the mind while at rest. But, by the look upon the man's face... "Ah, pardon me. I did not mean to disturb your repose." Almost a wave of those fingers, an expression served of possible recompense. Yes, we can return to butterflies, if you would prefer? Pretend to innocence, pretend that this time here does not matter... ah, that was the second pillar of the Dream. That one was from Khiea. "And... technically..." W
...Well, one step to the left and a turn, and would it be possible to fall into Brin's terrain? Perhaps, but not while bringing Sigurd, and certainly it would be too unformed for discourse. "Ah. It does not matter..."
Pale brows arch quietly as Sigrd but watches, his expression a serious one for once in this dream world, but it doesn't last long. Soon enough his eyes - yes, eyes, plural. Depth perception, what a novel concept! - are closed and a low chuckle is drawn from his throat before it's silenced by another sip of his cider. Just sit and watch with your heart, little Flame, use emotion sensed to paint a picture, use that to see past acts and masks and watch the truth as clearly as one would with their lying eyes. Let them talk, he learned more by listening, a tactic he'd perfected in Jugend, pretending to be asleep and catching the most interesting pieces of information, relaxing his mind and just taking in what he could. He'd sort it later. Let them talk.
A hand drifts up, as Brin thoughfully scratches his chin. He clears his throat, looks up at the two across the table, and is almost the Brin of the corporeal realm, being as he was now, silent, as if struck dumb by this revelation. He reaches out a hand, and gently strokes Reoite, who arches her back, purring slightly. The situation is alien to him, yet in him is stirred a curiosity. Why are these people here, and why do they look...different. Maybe younger? He notes a lack of an eyepatch, which was his first source of doubt at Sigrd's identity, and to Citan, whose mode of dress seemed to be the only difference. Looking down at the table, then to Reoite, he can say nothing.
Hyuga (OOC) also looks like a twenty-year old, but who is counting? ^^
Reoite stares up at the two, sitting bolt upright. "So, you're in our dreams? How is this so? And why do you seem younger than in real life?"
Brin (OOC) knows. But is guessing Hyu still looks vaguely like himself. The eyepatch threw him :)
Hyuga (OOC) must afk for approximately fifteen minutes. "Would this be terribly rude to everyone, or may I simply turn into a number of rabbits for the duration?"
Brin (OOC) can wait.
Sigrd (OOC) wonders why he's always drawn as a 20 year old or something when he'd be 17 at most... "It's alright, take your time."
Opening his mouth to answer--or perhaps only to breath in, only to sigh--Hyuga's response is lost in a sudden shattering of his form into... dozens of perfect, downy feathers. They lift and dance upon the breeze, swirling without much care for keeping to one locale. The man's attention is doubtless elsewhere, dragged by force. This realm needs its caretaking, after all. And much of it.
Hyuga (OOC) nods and thanks.
Sigrd cracks open an eye to peer at the feathers almost irritably, a lifting of his hand sending a few tongues of flame lapping after the nearest feathers, but careful to never touch, never harm. He'd be back. Very well then, his other eye opens and he directs his attention to Brin and his kitten with a mild shrug, a glow of redish orange about his cup re-warming his cider... Ether, no doubt. It was quite convenient being a fire elemental, wasn't it? "It's more like.... We are all in Khiea's dream. Or a web of interacting dreams she has created. Something to that effect, ask Hyuga when he returns. As to why we look young?" That draws a laugh out of him. Why? Who knew. Does one need a reason to laugh, after all? Is it that much of a rarity? That much of a privilege? Hardly, so let him enjoy, bask in the baseless amusement that fueled it, the sensations he rarely indulged in anymore. "We are Elements." Leave it at that, Sigrd, as if it would explain it all. To him, there need be no further explanation, it was what
.... they were. What he enjoyed.
Brin glances at Hyuga's sudden disappearance, with little bemusement. This was, after all, still a dream. Even though a man had disintegrated into feathers, it's still not unusual in the least. He listens carefully to Sigrd's words, mulling over them for a time, stroking Reoite slowly, all the time. He suddenly looks directly at Sigrd.
Reoite says "But, Is Khiea not here? She is asleep too? And what are -Elements-?". She stares up at Sigrd, straight in the eyes.
"I am not aware of Khiea's location. Probably the Nightmare." A flinch given in memory of the terrors there, Sigurd shakes his head as if to clear it. He wasn't there... and, oddly, he didn't feel fear of that place anymore. Just a severe dislike, and even moreso with the raging negativity of emotion that kept tugging at his empathy that was the entirety of the Nightmare. Damn his empathy sometimes. "Elements..." His voice echoed, hollowly a moment, distracted. It took yet another repeat of the word to gather his attention enough to answer correctly. "Elements. We are Solaris'... Gebler's elite... Either works. Four of us, we are the best there is, one aligned with each element. Thus, our title." Vague explanation, but this -was- a dream... Just a dream. Was it not? Never underestimate.
Sigrd (OOC) yanks the u out of his name and grutters.
Brin (OOC) grins.
Brin nods slightly, absorbing all the information, wanting more. This revelation intrigues him, wanting to find out more is his primary reaction. But he mustn't bother the young Sigurd. No, instead, he continues his gentle stroking of the kitten, and looks down toward her again, nodding as she returns his look. He looks up at Sigrd, nodding... "I understand...I won't trouble you with questions now. It's pleasant here, don't you think?" he looks from the dainty tea set, to the little purple house, regarding it with a smile.
Hyuga (OOC) reappears! "Many apologies..."
Reoite, looks straight up at Sigurd again. "So, you and Citan work for Gebler? What's the nightmare?..." She scans the tabletop. "And where's the rest of that milk!?", she hisses slightly.
Brin (OOC) hisses back. "Bad, untactful cat."
Sigrd (OOC) says, "No worries. *yawns* I may, however, go to true sleep soon -.-;"
Hyuga (OOC) is tempted to turn the cat into a butterfly.
"Khiea is here. Khiea is everywhere." The feathers swirl once more, but do not depart. Rather, allowing such manifestations of his distraction to exist, Hyuga simply takes his place back upon the chair and reaches for his cup. The scent of soot... the hint of black upon that down that dances upon the wind--all testament to the place he had just been called to, and returned from. "But if you speak of the primary locus of her attentions, then yes... it is within the Nightmare at this time." The tea is delicious. It is created from memory and the implication of what tea should taste like--an ideal, but still flawed from human perceptions. And did that not make it precisely the same as what was called a real cup? Amusements, besides. "Yes... this was once but a simple dream of a young girl," Hyuga adds softly, eyes upon the shimmering of the liquid within his cup, "but then it was taken into another. And that other bolstered it, lifted it with his hands. And from there, it has been spread and anchored... s
...slowly, yes. But soon to other Ethers for its fuel and other minds, and from there..." Has he spoken too much? No. It does not matter. Drop the shroud of fuzzy dreams over this space again--making a slight bit of room for the exception of Sigurd--and feel the grateful stirrings of sleepers just underneath the soil. Forget this night, save for hints of what you may strive for. Remember only peace...
Hyuga (OOC) should go soon as well, as terrible as that is. He is ill of late...
Brin (OOC) is also thinking of it. It _is_ 5:15 AM. :)
Hyuga (OOC) sleepily and accidently erases the kitten's mouth.
Hyuga (OOC) blinks and puts it back.
Hyuga (OOC) asks, "Closing poses for all, or to bed?"
Brin (OOC) nods. Closing poses, i think.
Brin (OOC) asks, "Order?"
Hyuga (OOC) poses.
Sigrd (OOC) bites 'cause it's his turn. ^^
Hyuga (OOC) takes it away and laughs!
Sigrd (OOC) poses anyway :P
Hyuga (OOC) gracefully allows him, he -supposes-...
Brin (OOC) says, "Behave, you two. :)"
Sigrd (OOC) toasts him for the fun of it between typing his pose.
Sigrd barely looks at Hyuga, an oddity, perhaps. No teasing, no words, just quiet pondering. He wasn't as deep into the dream tonight, it seemed, but then falling asleep on a computer console was never a comfortable place for deep sleep. Finally a glance was spared to Hyuga and a faint smirk, then he finished off his cider and stood, restless. "From there..." He begins, picking up from Hyu's fading words. "We take a walk and go tumbling in the grass!" Yes, gentleman, meet the walking moodswing, the Fire Element attemping to grab his team mate and drag him off to the hill that has been so enjoyed in dreams past.
Sigrd (OOC) eyes the pose and kicks it. "Must be tired....."
Brin (OOC) says, "Hyuga now, I presume is itching to pose :)"
Hyuga (OOC) has actually been a kitten all along. Explodes.
And Hyuga has little enough time even to bestow that... is it a warning, or a hope for the future? Let a promise follow both paths, good and ill. Just as the Guardian does, walking two sides at once... or three, or four, and splitting worlds as finely as hairs. Dreams or logics or philosophies--it is not terribly hard to see just why Citan has taken so easily to a full submersion into this place, is it? Or why he favors expression of his form in the diverse--flocks and abstracts, all the better to range across the land and hint at the true fact of -where- he happens to be. Let that promise follow all paths. For the Guardian of so much more now has little enough time before he is drawn back to watching over other dreamers, other dreams... there is not the energy to spend on the pretense of a single body that is there taking tea, and Hyuga melts away into feathers ag--no. No? He is being seized, and stunned into remaining half here, half-gone, shedding an angel's down in his wake while he is being pulled
.... Ah. True. What is the harm in spending an hour or two in simple laughter? Let that be. And the Dream here draws quiet once more, as the stage would once the actors have left for the night. It, too, sleeps.
Hyuga (OOC) hints to the Master Plan he has been working on for the last... how many months has it been?
Sigrd (OOC) half gets some of it... too tired to try to think tho...
Hyuga (OOC) says, "Then it is IC. ^^"
Sigrd (OOC) chews on him.
Hyuga (OOC) turns into a large, plush rabbit. "Why...?"
Sigrd (OOC) burns him then. "Because I can."
Hyuga (OOC) drenches Sigrd and turns into a fleece blanket. "You continue to show such a desire to incinerate me and my things..."
To every dream, comes the threat of emerging to reality. That, or the metabolism takes over, jolting us back to mundaneness. Brin suddenly stands, and Reoite, eyeing Sigrd and Hyuga, with the wounded face that a queen might give a disobedient serf, her question left unanswered, dives up Brin's sleeve as he stands. And Brin, perhaps, is relieved. Not sure if he should, he simply nods to Hyuga and Sigrd. Suddenly, he leaps into the air, curling himself knee to chin, spinning..spinning, until, he becomes a blurred circle of blue. The circle draws in on itself, and he is gone.
Sigrd (OOC) is soaked. "I'm a pyro." Grabs the blanket and uses it to dry off.
Hyuga (OOC) bows and thanks everyone.
Hyuga (OOC) acks and is used as a towel!
Brin (OOC) does likewise.
Hyuga (OOC) says, "Use me as a towel? ^^;;;;;"
Hyuga (OOC) goes off and hides as a pod of dolphins in the oceans. "Good night, everyone. Thank you again--may we do it another day?"
Sigrd (OOC) asks, "Need you ask?"
Brin (OOC) says, "Without doubt."
Hyuga (OOC) feels so... used.
Hyuga (OOC) vanishes. "Good night, everyone. Sleep well."
Hyuga has disconnected.