violenti: (✝ he shall arise upon white horses)
David Rook ([personal profile] violenti) wrote in [community profile] obsidianlogs 2020-08-06 02:56 am (UTC)

[ The first thing Rook notices is the red sky. It makes him uncomfortable at once, reminiscent of things he'd rather forget. It's enough to push him to step into the house in front of him, barely taking time to admire it.

He's not sure why- or how- he's here. A dream, he assumes, though it seems awfully real. He wanders slow through the house- he's never seen anything like it. He grew up around trailers and old cabins, some row houses in the nearest town. But this... it's beautiful. He stops by what he thinks is a mirror first, but he sees instead of himself a different young man. It almost... looks like Michael? A painting, then. But then he moves, and so does the man.
]

Jesus-

[ He stumbles back through a doorway, and turns, only to find the Michael he recognizes. ] Oh- uh, alright. [ Wait, does that mean he shouldn't sit down either? But then he remembers something else that distracts him from that thought. ]

Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. You uh- you been alright?

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