(no subject)

[whentheroserots]

[it was rough going for about a week there, but the worst of the dreams have passed, it seems. Garry can almost forget the gallery ever happened.

(but only almost. he still needs to remember - Ib needs him to remember. to forget the gallery would be to forsake the little girl who saved his life, and that was bad enough the first time.)

so he sleeps, reasonably assured that he's unlikely to wake up screaming tonight.]

Comments

[lightswitchraving]

[which clearly means it's time for another visit. it missed you, Garry— why would you leave?]

[whentheroserots]

[WOULD YOU LIKE A LIST?

but no okay lllllooking around... wait where is Ib 8(]

[lightswitchraving]

[not there, sadly :( but the museum is still and eerily silent, and that makes it easy to hear something faint and far off:]

—arry? Garry, where—

[whentheroserots]

Ib! Ib, just hold on, I'm coming!

[lightswitchraving]

[an almost startled pause, and then:]

Garry! Garry?! Garry, I lost my rose!

[...something about her voice—her tone?—seems off, but both it and the realization of it are elusive]

[whentheroserots]

[even if they were not, Garry would have trouble grasping on to them in the wake of the far larger emergency.

she lost her rose.]

Oh, Ib! It's all right, I promise - I'm coming, we'll find it together. Just keep talking so I can follow your voice, all right, Ib?

[lightswitchraving]

[except that small voice seems to have gone quiet. for several moments, there's no sound at all, only oppressive silence—

and then a shrill, terrified scream]

[whentheroserots]

IB!!!

[breaks into a run]

[lightswitchraving]

[the hallways twist and turn in unfamiliar pathways, only to be further confused by the fact that it's barely light enough to see more than a few feet ahead at a time. there are no statues or paintings to come after him, however, nor anything else—

at least, until he turns a corner and bounces off of... something. the initial impression is of a deeper shadow and a cracked, grinning mask, ropes of a tarry substance catching him by the wrists—

but the darkness lifts, and what is holding onto him is a man. or man-shaped, at the very least.]

There you are. Garry, is it?

/2

[whentheroserots]

[oh god oh god it's touching me IT'S TOUCHING ME]

Eeeeeeek!?

[whentheroserots]

[wait]

I... I haven't the time for this!! I need to find Ib!

[lightswitchraving]

[just chuckles, low and buzzing.]

She isn't here. Did you enjoy my impression of her?

[whentheroserots]

Impre...

[whentheroserots]

That was you?!

What have you done with her?!

[lightswitchraving]

[letting go of his wrists]

Nothing, so far. [cocking his head] Do you think I should?

[whentheroserots]

Wha-- no!

But... just who are you, anyway?

[lightswitchraving]

A traveler— and currently, one in search of you. She sent me, you see.

[whentheroserots]

Ib sent you? I don't believe that.

[lightswitchraving]

How else would I have known to find you here?

[whentheroserots]

This is a dream, isn't it? There's no reason I couldn't simply be dreaming you up.

... Though I can't seem to make you go away. I thought lucid dreams were supposed to be more flexible than that.

[lightswitchraving]

[cracking both eyes open to look at him, his grin widening]

True, true... so long as the dream has not started dreaming for itself.

[whentheroserots]

[Garry takes an involuntary step back]

... I don't believe that Ib would send me a nightmare. If you say she sent you, I want proof.

[lightswitchraving]

[he goes still for a long moment, the only thing about him not completely frozen the slight ripple of his cloak—

and then he turns abruptly to the wall, where a blank painting hangs. (had it been there a moment ago? does it matter?)]

I have nothing that could not be false, or illusion. This is a dream, after all.

Still, I made a bargain; and although all I promised was to find you, I prefer to follow the spirit of the law, and not merely the letter. So! Come and see what I have to offer you.

[he presses his hand to the canvas.

something like ink seeps out, the same tarry black that had stuck to his wrists in that half-remembered second earlier— and just like in that second, it changes. pale, washed out colors spread over the painting; an image of pastel ponds and more brightly colored shores.

a girl is sleeping on one of them.]

[whentheroserots]

[c...autiously approaches the painting, while keeping as much distance from the intruder as possible]

What is this?

[lightswitchraving]

What Ib dreams of now, instead of this museum.

She and I made a deal: if she were to shelter me, I would return the favor; and to sweeten the deal, I offered her my services as well.

She will never wander these halls unwilling again, and in finding you, I've fulfilled the other end of my bargain.