Isla
She doesn't ever think she has been quite so awkward around Remi, and it's more uncomfortable than any physical discomfort from the bed. Smiling up at him, Isla makes herself relax and open to whatever his magic is going to do, the Ascended pinning her gaze on the ceiling so she doesn't have to think about the weight and warmth of the man around her. (If Remi even counts as a man any more, what with being half god and all that).
Sleep does, indeed, take her, Isla's pebble blues softly closing under the influence of his magic. But there is no awakening of unconscious, no dreamscape - just a blank and dark emptiness, a sensation of perfect balance and efficiency. She has no need to let her thoughts and memories arrange themselves - it is a process that happens in the background of her day to day. And so the Lullaby will find himself alone in a world of quiet circuitry and blissful nothing - no Isla to be found.
Sleep does, indeed, take her, Isla's pebble blues softly closing under the influence of his magic. But there is no awakening of unconscious, no dreamscape - just a blank and dark emptiness, a sensation of perfect balance and efficiency. She has no need to let her thoughts and memories arrange themselves - it is a process that happens in the background of her day to day. And so the Lullaby will find himself alone in a world of quiet circuitry and blissful nothing - no Isla to be found.
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
