ꜱ ᴜ ᴘ ʀ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ

+

He looked up at her again. “Fair point,” he agreed, then wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. “Though, I’m not sure if I’d call it ‘science’ when I already know how to bleed”.

He chuffed, looking down and pulling at his clothes to see that she was right. His skin was slowly putting itself back together. It looked gruesome, like some kind of horror movie.

+

He bowed slightly. “It’s my pleasure,” he said.

It’s here. Eve of All Hallows. The voices in his head are growing louder, louder, 𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿. They can sense it. The voices all mix with the wails and cries of the ghosts and ghouls getting lost in the realm of the living.

⠀𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙩!
⠀⠀⠀𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱!

⠀⠀⠀⠀M̷̧̨̲͙̭͍̭͉̋̈͛̂̊̈́̈̅̚͠A̸͇͎̟̰̗͒̿̈́K̷̤̞̤͔̱͖͊͌́̈́́͆̆͜͝ͅE̴̟̔̔͋͌̏͋͠ Í̸̧̡͔̳̗͎͋̍̓͆̊̑̅T̶̥̠̘̪̱̳̻͖͝ ̴̧̟͎̯̫̽̂̇͗̊ Ş̶̲͖̩̪͇͈̍̀̄̾̈͠T̶̻̭͎̣̩̃̈́Ō̷̘͔̆̈͒́̕͝P̶̤̖͉̣̮̣̟̂͛͜͜!̵̀͐͗̈́̇͋͝
⠀

No, those are definitely people. Or they 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 people, many long moons ago. Now? Ghosts, ghouls, and nightmares.

He can sense it. The slow but inevitable thinning of the veil between the realms. No matter what universe he travels to, it’s always there. The Eve of All Hallow’s is almost upon them, and with it. . . The endless, unrelenting wails and cries of those long dead.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎
𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝...
𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

#OWRP || #MVRP

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒆.
𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒐. 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅.

“Free pampering? Where do I sign up?”

Whoops. He may have stolen a very old artifact and a few other trinkets from an underground cavern and then jumped universes. He may also have stolen a lot of coins from a few different parts of the world. Don’t worry, he promises that he has good reasons!

+

and as he straightened, the pot was putting itself back together. The only trace that it had been broken was a web-like pattern on the surface.

“I believe you dropped this,” he said with a smirk, holding the pot out for her.

“Allow me, mademoiselle,” he said with a slight bow and made a few circular motions with his hands. The broom gently floated out of Ivy’s hands and swept up the pieces of the pot scattered on the floor. He bent down to swoop them into his hands,

+

“Oh, do you want help with that?” he offered, hopping down from the rift and letting it close behind him.

+

“And you believe this … Ash … to be my death?” he asked, tilting his head as he looked at her. “Or was it merely-”, he coughed, blood spilling from a corner of his mouth, ”-a stab to prove your point?”

He growled when the spear-like stick was dislodged from his abdomen. He pressed his hands against the wound, his own blood staining his already dark-red robes.

⠀⠀Ÿ̵̨͓̯͓̟̖̭̙̗́͜o̴̢̹̘͎̪͇̞͕̝͋͑̓̈́u̷ w̵͓̦̯̞͈̤͍̽́̽͌̾̍̉ͅi̵͎͍͙͍͂̊̒ľ̸̄̒̂̊͛̀̓̀̚l n̴̖̬̘̳̒ö̷̧̼͍̻̳̪̗͚́́͠ͅṭ̴̑̂̄̈́̚̕ d̷͓̍́͂̓͛̄̿̽̂i̶̧̫̘͚̗͚̖͖̐͑́͂̃̏̐̕͜e̷̒̀̊ h̴̢̺̳̤̠͒̄̇͂̔͊̈́̏̈́e̶͒̂̂̂͠ř̴̷̘̯͈̭̟̥͉͙͛͋͗̚ͅę̴̼̗̱̟͔̈̂̐̇̉!̵͗̄

The voices in his head wailed loud enough to make his head pound.

+

He looked down at the pot. “Had I known you were carrying something fragile, I would’ve waited,” he said, sitting casually on the edge of the reality rift that he had appeared from.

He looked down at the wound. Three large octopus-like tentacles appeared from under his cloak to support his weight and keep him from falling, and the skin on his hands and neck slowly turned into shimmering golden scales. “Huh,” he said, as if it was new to him to be injured.

😈

// stealing this bandwagon 😇

+

how could his presence here be of any danger?

“You know of the Multiverse,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

+

The voices echoed in his head, louder this time. Well, what did he have to lose, anyway? His own universe destroyed, he had no place to call home. Nowhere he needed to be. He had nothing but time, and without another universe for this one to collide with,

+

+

And yet,

⠀⠀⠀Ｉｔ’ｓ ｈｅｒ！

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀… ʜᴇʀ …

⠀… h̵̲̠̟̼̠͖̗͚̖̅͛̈́ė̴̛͚̹͕͓̈́͛̄̚ŗ̵͇̥̙̍͒͛̓ͅͅ ̸͚́̑͌̇̚…

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝙃𝙚𝙧!

+

+

Or maybe 𝘴𝘩𝘦 had changed? He was holding his breath while she spoke, but allowed himself to inhale as he looked her over. No, this wasn’t his Christine. 𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 this wasn’t his Christine. She had been gone for what felt like eons and it was foolish of him to dare think such a thought.

+

Oh yes, he knew that voice. Far too many times had he heard it in his nightmares. In his dreams too, but the nightmares far outweighed the pleasant, peaceful dreams.

Ah, so she knew about the multiverse then? How times had changed. Or maybe he had changed?

+

+

then down on the floor inside the building where she was sitting in her nook. Even still, she remained. Not a dream, not an illusion. She was real.

“Christine?” he asked quietly, barely over a whisper.

+

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ｓｈｅ’ｓ ｒｅａｌ．

⠀⠀ꜱʜᴇ’ꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝙎𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡.

All of the voices sang in his head, causing an ache to start at his temples. He stepped to the right. Reality warped before tearing open before him, and he stepped through the rift,

+

He blinked and shook his head. She was staring back at him through the window, remaining in place. Unlike the countless times he had … imagined or … dreamt or maybe hallucinated, her shape stayed constant. She wasn’t one of his made up illusions, was she?

+