Yeah, so I've heard. But uh, Carlisle said it's really strong, so...
[So maybe not both unless he wants to sleep for three days.
Then again, maybe that's a great idea. Or it would be if he wouldn't risk dying of dehydration or something and not only does he know from experience that nearly dying that way isn't fun, but it would also be really embarrassingly lame.]
So hold your breath when you take a sip. Or maybe inhale it now and drink it tomorrow night, whatever. [That's Emily's plan.] I can always make more if it like, loses its power overnight.
[She shrugs at all of that -- worse comes to worst, someone can go get Carlisle to help them. And for all that she demands ro be acknowledged, sincere gratitude is still a bit strange to deal with. In formal situations, it's almost scripted, what to say and who to say it to. With friends, it really means something.
Right? [Emily rolls her eyes, perching on the edge of Chris's desk. She sets down his mug, then stares at her own, not yet ready to breathe in the steam lest she pass out then and there.]
They're not as bad as when the gods fucked with our dreams, but that's not saying much.
[By far the worst thing is waking up alone when all she wants is to curl up against Matt for comfort.]
[He's quiet a second, noting where she put the mug but also not ready to fall asleep yet; Carlisle said it acts fact, and some part of him is suddenly nervous. He trusts Carlisle--and Emily--but he hadn't really thought about the fact that it would take some willpower to override the fear of letting himself be drugged, even though he's the one who'd asked about the possibility to begin with. So, on top of everything, he feels kind of stupid.]
Was it that different for you?
[The dreams in the event, as opposed to how they are normally. Chris hadn't noticed much of a difference.]
[She's really quiet when she says that, because it is, quite honestly, weird. The dreams the gods had given her were worse in that they were extremes, all the worst (or best) things in one night, and in that outsiders got to witness them. Without them, they're still bad, but at least they're hers alone to see and hear.
But that's not something she wants to share with Chris. Matt, maybe, if he were here, but not Chris. It's too much, even though he saw one of the worst of her nightmares.]
[He can understand that; it feels like they especially have had very little control over what from their world other people learn about considering that there are wendigos here. He's just really glad only Emily experienced the nightmare that wasn't related to the wendigos during the dream event.]
Enough people here seem to think they know everything about us already.
[It's an aimlessly bitter comment more than brought about by anything in specific; he's just been noticing it a lot lately.]
Sounds like the next thing on the list to ask Carlisle. He uh, actually might know; I think magical electricity was something his uncle was really good at.
[It was obviously a terrible idea and surely Carlisle is going to get suspicious pretty fast at what she's up to but OH WELL.]
Maybe we can hook up the trap wire to a glyph for electricity.
[Maybe they can set up an actual alarm system.
Goddamn, magic is cool.]
Okay then. You first. [She nods at him, at his mug, and arches her eyebrows.] If anything happens to you, I'll get Carlisle. [And if not, she'll go upstairs and inhale the steam from her own tea. Win-win.]
That's an awesome idea, actually. Or even just like, a light that would go off in the house somewhere to let us know someone tripped it.
[Because the tripwires are better than nothing, but there are a lot of tiny improvements that would go a long way.
At her next comment he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling a little bit as he turns off his phone and sets it aside; who knows how fast this stuff will kick in.]
Wow, thanks, Em. But okay, um, I'll give it a shot.
[But he's changing his mind at the last moment and deciding to go the drinking it route. As much as he logically knows he's being ridiculous the idea of drinking it seems a lot less anxiety-inducing.
Though wow, ew, chugging tea is way worse than beer. The face he makes when he sets the mug down is probably not very dignified because urgh.]
She's here for him, sitting patiently as he struggles his way through the tea (come on, Chris, it's tea, not a death sentence), rolling her eyes all dramatically because what the hell else is there to do while she plays nurse or whatever.]
You're such a baby. [She sighs.] So? How do you feel?
[Zapping people would be cool indeed but he's slightly worried they'd get the amount wrong and kill someone.
He manages an unimpressed look--though his nose is still slightly wrinkled--at Emily's response, but then kind of thinks about it for a moment. He feels... Pretty normal. Maybe a little more tired? It isn't hitting him all at once, at least, which is reassuring.]
I um, think I'm okay. It's kind of just sinking in.
[And as soon as he says it he starts to feel it a lot more, but it's as if he's just been trying to fall asleep for awhile rather than something unnatural.]
...Okay now I think I'm feeling it. It uh, definitely kicks in.
[He's ready to test this whole dreamless sleep idea out.]
You look stoned. [She is in face smirkinf a little. It's funny, okay? Also really cool. She made this tea with magic. Fuck yeah.] Lie down. If you fall, I'm not pickig you up. [Rage's blessing be damned.]
[Considering the last--and only--time he'd tried marijuana he'd thrown up and spent the next few hours of the party on the couch, he's hoping he doesn't look quite that bad. But it's mostly a joke, and he makes a mental note to tell Emily that story next time she needs cheering up.
But he decides to take her advice for the moment, laying down and pulling his several blankets over himself.]
Okay. Not passing out on the kitchen floor. Everything's cool.
[She's probably okay to go back to her room if she wants.]
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Yeah, so I've heard. But uh, Carlisle said it's really strong, so...
[So maybe not both unless he wants to sleep for three days.
Then again, maybe that's a great idea. Or it would be if he wouldn't risk dying of dehydration or something and not only does he know from experience that nearly dying that way isn't fun, but it would also be really embarrassingly lame.]
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[If it's not too hard to make anyway. Also, he should probably add--]
Oh, and um... Thanks. For making it.
[He really does appreciate it.]
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So she deflects.]
I'm sick of having shitty dreams too.
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Yeah. I um... I kept expecting them to, you know, wear off after awhile?
[But no luck.]
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They're not as bad as when the gods fucked with our dreams, but that's not saying much.
[By far the worst thing is waking up alone when all she wants is to curl up against Matt for comfort.]
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Was it that different for you?
[The dreams in the event, as opposed to how they are normally. Chris hadn't noticed much of a difference.]
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[She's really quiet when she says that, because it is, quite honestly, weird. The dreams the gods had given her were worse in that they were extremes, all the worst (or best) things in one night, and in that outsiders got to witness them. Without them, they're still bad, but at least they're hers alone to see and hear.
But that's not something she wants to share with Chris. Matt, maybe, if he were here, but not Chris. It's too much, even though he saw one of the worst of her nightmares.]
I don't like people knowing my business.
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[He can understand that; it feels like they especially have had very little control over what from their world other people learn about considering that there are wendigos here. He's just really glad only Emily experienced the nightmare that wasn't related to the wendigos during the dream event.]
Enough people here seem to think they know everything about us already.
[It's an aimlessly bitter comment more than brought about by anything in specific; he's just been noticing it a lot lately.]
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You're talking about Mello, aren't you.
[God, she hates Mello.]
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[And is probably the most annoying of offenders. At least pretty much everyone else who does it means well, though it's still annoying.]
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[He's not sure what she's learning, but that'd be great.]
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[Emily should never have been given magic lessons, who thought this was a good idea to show her how to tap into such power.]
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[It was obviously a terrible idea and surely Carlisle is going to get suspicious pretty fast at what she's up to but OH WELL.]
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No, better ask Carlisle. Last time she tried on her own, she made the room dark. Playing with electricity might end a lot more painfully than that.]
I wonder if this tea is habit forming.
[Magic drugs. God, what a shitshow their house would become.]
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[He wouldn't have to bother Pell every time his iphone runs out of power; he could just bother Emily instead.
He shrugs at the mention of the tea, giving it another glance.]
He didn't mention it, but at this point I don't think it'd matter that much.
[They'd probably be on some sort of definitely habit-forming sleep aid if they were at home, after all.]
I guess uh... We should go ahead and try it out, though.
[He's pretty much convinced himself to go for it.]
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[Maybe they can set up an actual alarm system.
Goddamn, magic is cool.]
Okay then. You first. [She nods at him, at his mug, and arches her eyebrows.] If anything happens to you, I'll get Carlisle. [And if not, she'll go upstairs and inhale the steam from her own tea. Win-win.]
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That's an awesome idea, actually. Or even just like, a light that would go off in the house somewhere to let us know someone tripped it.
[Because the tripwires are better than nothing, but there are a lot of tiny improvements that would go a long way.
At her next comment he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling a little bit as he turns off his phone and sets it aside; who knows how fast this stuff will kick in.]
Wow, thanks, Em. But okay, um, I'll give it a shot.
[But he's changing his mind at the last moment and deciding to go the drinking it route. As much as he logically knows he's being ridiculous the idea of drinking it seems a lot less anxiety-inducing.
Though wow, ew, chugging tea is way worse than beer. The face he makes when he sets the mug down is probably not very dignified because urgh.]
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She's here for him, sitting patiently as he struggles his way through the tea (come on, Chris, it's tea, not a death sentence), rolling her eyes all dramatically because what the hell else is there to do while she plays nurse or whatever.]
You're such a baby. [She sighs.] So? How do you feel?
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He manages an unimpressed look--though his nose is still slightly wrinkled--at Emily's response, but then kind of thinks about it for a moment. He feels... Pretty normal. Maybe a little more tired? It isn't hitting him all at once, at least, which is reassuring.]
I um, think I'm okay. It's kind of just sinking in.
[And as soon as he says it he starts to feel it a lot more, but it's as if he's just been trying to fall asleep for awhile rather than something unnatural.]
...Okay now I think I'm feeling it. It uh, definitely kicks in.
[He's ready to test this whole dreamless sleep idea out.]
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You look stoned. [She is in face smirkinf a little. It's funny, okay? Also really cool. She made this tea with magic. Fuck yeah.] Lie down. If you fall, I'm not pickig you up. [Rage's blessing be damned.]
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[Considering the last--and only--time he'd tried marijuana he'd thrown up and spent the next few hours of the party on the couch, he's hoping he doesn't look quite that bad. But it's mostly a joke, and he makes a mental note to tell Emily that story next time she needs cheering up.
But he decides to take her advice for the moment, laying down and pulling his several blankets over himself.]
Okay. Not passing out on the kitchen floor. Everything's cool.
[She's probably okay to go back to her room if she wants.]
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Mug in hand, she stands.]
Tomorrow, tell me if you had any dreams. I'll talk to Carlisle if we do so I can get it right next time.
[With that, she gives a sing-song good ni~ght and heads off to her room upstairs.]