suite dreams ☆ maririn

[dms]

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w0, saturday

[dms]

[ pool time!! he waves marie over with a big grin! ]

What do you think, Maririn? It's nothing like a real beach, but it's nice, right?! I've never seen a pool this fancy before! They even have a water slide! Are you gonna try it?

[classmate]

[ THIS FUCKING MEME ]

I really do prefer the beach more, especially the saltwater smell -- though I was starting to get used to it. [ At the mention of the water slide, she blinks. ] I'll try it if you go first.

[dms]

[ do it for her ]

Me too, me too! It's all about the vibes you get from the beach, right?! It's totally different here.

Hm... Okay!

[classmate]

Mm. I was also surprised by how many seagulls there really were at the pier, and how they liked coconut milk ice cream... [ POOR DAMIEN ]

But it's also the first time I've been to a pool like this? The one at school obviously doesn't have a slide.

w0 ( sunday )

[classmate]

[ Read this as slut dreams but like anyway.

Is Kazunari at his room? She's knocking... let her in, but like a vampire because she might actually be one. ]

[dms]

[ STOP this slut is retired!!!

give him a moment though and kazu will answer! and just immediately step aside to let her in. our heliotrope open door policy is still in effect, it seems.

his room isn't anything special, but it's got a modern japanese feel to it, and surprisingly reserved for someone like kazunari. the furniture is sleek, with almost unnoticeable detailing around the chair back and bed frame. the duvet sports a very vivid, colorful pattern, with curtains to match - with the view outside showing a bright, bustling street. the other walls are decorated with a few scrolls of traditional japanese art, and somewhere, a hat rack because he has way too many of them.

the desk looks kind of empty right now, with only a small vase of flowers and the hotel notebook sitting out. a bunch of books have been stowed in the shelf, from shoujo manga to artistic reference books, except they're all fake. lastly, there's a low table in the center of the room, with cushions around it for guests to sit. there are a couple of what looks like paint cups, but they're all dried up and empty with no real art supplies available. disappointing. ): ]

Hey, Maririn! It's weird not being roomies this time, isn't it? I think it's still nice, though, just weirdly quiet!

[classmate]

[ READ HAT RACK AS RAT SHACK AND PANICKED SO HARD I DO NOT WANNA MAKE MARIE RAT SHACK GIRL!!

But this room is very Kazunari-esque. ]

A bit? [ But it was only two weeks? Otherwise she spent the remainder of her time dead. ] But we share a bathroom with someone so -- I can imagine it's not too quiet?

[dms]

[ wouldn't that make kazunari the rat shack girl ]

IDK, Alphi's a pretty quiet guy! Moonstone makes more noise than he does, but the little guy's just curious, so I don't mind.

w0, monday

[dms]

[ coinflip says we start with the doors so this'll be fun! ]

So it's just like how the prism opened up! Is there a door calling your name, Maririn? We should check it out!

[ if she's hesitant like at all he will just loop an arm through hers and continue on because surely nothing could wrong at all here ]

[classmate]

[ Fortunately Kazunari is one of the few people that Marie feels comfortable enough with to touch her. She doesn't make any sudden draw backs, only smiles warily. ]

Do you think it'll be fine? Usually when this happens in horror movies there's something bad bound to happen...

[ But he gave her the choice to choose and I rolled the die!

You won't fucking believe it!

16. You open the door and find yourself inside a confessional booth - one of you in the position to confess, one in the position to listen to the confession. The door will not open to let you out no matter how hard you try. You must confess at least one sin - and honestly, at that - in order to be let out. Once you do, you will find yourself back out in the hallway. No matter how long it took you to confess your sin, only four minutes will have passed. ]

[dms]

Maririn, I think you've been watching too many horror movies. Maybe should see if the hotel has any other movies lying around?

[ but! well! she was right!! ]

...Huh. Somehow, this isn't what I was expecting.

[ confessions????? ]

[classmate]

I would really like that... I want to watch romance movies!

[ Said with the determination of a girl whO JUST WANTS TO WATCH LOVE ISLAND OR SOMETHING

Also you said heads so he's the one on the confessing side? Marie wasn't expecting them to be separated so soon, but whatever. ]

Me neither, but... this is a confessional, isn't it?

w0, saturday

[dms]

[ pspspspspsps maririiiiiiin pspspspspsps ]

Hey. [ ... ] Should I ask which you is awake now...?

[ will she be happier to see his usual placid smile back in place because it is ]

[classmate]

[ Stop it's funny that the brackets is calling her like a cat cause she's

just

gonna

pounce right on top of him in this void. ]

[dms]

[ i flipped a coin to see if this would knock him over and the coin said yes so

down they go ]

Wha?!

[classmate]

[ DOWN THEY GO she's just gonna sit upright on top of him sorry ]

I was just, just thinkin' I'd have a normal fuckin' life before this shit went and happened again! What the fuck!?

w1, monday

[dms]

[ marie's desire to see the beach has never quite left him, so as soon as he gets a moment, he's finding marie and bringing her out to the beach! he will be nice about it though. ]

Ahhh, I missed the beach~! It's too bad we can't use the colors here... I still miss the fireworks from back home, but just being here is way better than the hotel!

[classmate]

[ let's go to the beach beach....... ninki minjaj

but man this beach is a lot better than the one wicked saw with buzen that was just all bloody and you could hear the screams of civilians in the background ]

Ah~ I missed it, too! We only went once before I came here.

[ We obviously meaning Crow, Damien, and their son 9S.

Anyway, Marie is quickly removing her socks and shoes before just running across the sand to the water. ] Eek! It's cold!

[dms]

Only once? They should have taken you more - let you see the fireworks and all!

[ he follows at a more sedate pace, laughing. ]

What were you expecting? It's not the hot springs!

w1, saturday

[dms]

[ well. he's hanging out on the prism rooftop after trial, drawing in the hotel notepad. he glances up when she arrives to offer a little wave. ]

Hey, Maririn.

[ he doesn't seem so energetic tonight! weird, right?? ]

[classmate]

[ It is weird? Hello. ]

I’m surprised to see that you’re up here.

[dms]

...Really? Why?

w3 ( wednesday ) cw for domestic abuse, murder, and gore

[classmate]

[ I have truly fallen off the grid since we haven't threaded for a week? Apparently? What the fuck.

But Marie has also been trying to actively avoid people since they've discovered what fuck up they have this week. Feeling invasive; these are some parts of others they don't want to be revealed that's being forced out, and she feels especially bad whenever someone is forced to take a glimpse into her past.

And, well, unfortunately it's Kazunari's turn in wherever the fuck they are because I refuse to choose. ]

Kazunari-san! Ah -- [ THE STARDUST NOOOOOOOOOOO here's a fucked up memory:

—”I can grant any kind of wish you have.”

(Mobius…)

But you never wished for any of this.

“Come on, come and sit. Mom made hamburger steak for us today.”

“Hey, Marie, come and pour me a drink, will ya?”

You do as you are told and poured beer into his empty glass. The room around you is comfortably familiar and yet not; too clean, too perfect, you're so much more well-adjusted to broken furniture and a lonely futon that still smells faintly of blood. You turn to look for the closet were you usually hid in and it's gone, for some reason. Perhaps the absence of it means that you're somewhere safe.

“Man, beer always tastes the best when my daughter pours it for me.”

“You’re working tomorrow, so don’t drink too much… Marie-chan, how’s the hamburger steak? Is it good?”

You carefully put a piece in you mouth, and found that it tasted exactly the way you remember it. A hamburger steak made the way my mother did when she was in a good mood. But that only brings up the memory of your birthday, when she had struck you so hard that you had let a single piece sit in your mouth for a moment too long and she promptly took the plate and threw the remainder in the trash.

The woman in front of you has her face, but not her scorn. Not her anger or her hatred, or her fear of you.

“Oh, right, Marie, we’re going to visit your grandparents next Sunday.”

You're irritated.

“We haven’t seen them in so long, they’ll be so happy to see you. So don’t make plans to go out with your friends then. Oh, and also.” He put a small package on the table.

“I got this as a souvenir on my business trip the other day. Go ahead and open it.”

You feel sick.

The square box is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, and when you open it, you see that it has a sparkling plastic ring in it.

Saying nothing, you stand up and head to the kitchen. You look for the kitchen knife hanging in the cupboard under the sink — hung there carefully in the exact same place it would be in the house you’d once lived in — and grab it without hesitation.

“Marie-chan, what’s wrong — “ But before she could finish her sentence, you shake off her arm with all your might, grab the woman, and fling her down. Her head hits the fridge behind her and bounces back like a rubber ball. You look down at the woman, who was frozen with hesitation, and stab the knife into her chest.

“…!” The woman’s mouth moves repeatedly as if she were gasping for air, without a single sound escaping it. You repeatedly stab her again and again until her movements slow down and her arms, which had been flailing around, fell to the floor. The corners of her mouth fell loose, and a disgusting-looking liquid begins oozing out of them.

“Huh? What? What’s going on?”

You could tell he was coming, so you return to the living room with the bloodstained knife. You quickly pace yourself towards the terrified old man, snatch the beer bottle, and slam it against his head as hard as you possibly can. The drunken old man stumbles forward, and his head turns towards the sofa behind the two of you. You quickly run up to him and stab his leg.

You weren’t going to let him escape. This man who is but a vague memory, a man who you can only imagine after he had left your life before you made it into elementary school.

“G-Gaaaaaaaah!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The coldness of your own voice is ringing inside your skull. You are terrifyingly calm. The more you witness the old man desperately trying to appeal to you with that desperate expression on his face, the colder the edges of your skull feel.

“What do you say when you want forgiveness?” You stomp on the leg that you had stabbed, and his scream pierced the air. “Come on, say it.”

“S-Spare me…”

Spare me, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, please forgive me — groveling and pleading with those words, repeatedly, again and again.

(Like how you did back then. You are so familiar of that pain, of that fear, of all your apologies meaning nothing and yet still being expected. )

So of course you know what to say next.

“You’re so goddamn obnoxious, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

You stab the knife into his belly and twist it viciously. Piercing into the skin and aiming for the internal organs that lie dangerously unarmed. His shrieks and his screams ring out through the living room. You raise the kitchen knife again and again, until it finally falls from your hand.

When you lift your head, you see your reflection in the windowpane.

You're smirking. Blood covering your face, in your hair, chunks of man dripping down into your eyelashes that you unceremoniously wipe off.

You finally understood.

(You've always wanted to do this.)

How could you have not understood such a simple thing?

You pick up the beer bottle that had been tossed away and emptied, and slam it into him, again and again. A grating noise emerged from the back of his throat.

Why —

You find yourself breaking down in laughter, but just as quickly snap out of it.

The TV had been left on, and was now showing a comedy program. The baseball program had ended while you had concentrated solely on spilling the blood of a man who you're meant to call your father. Tearing into flesh, filling your nose with the coppery-tang of blood, using your fingers to eagerly pull apart intestines from their home. Using all your strength to grab bones and snap it underneath your palms.

You slowly pick youself up from where you had been sitting.

“…What’s going on?” You mutter this without thinking.

There should be a pile of flesh that you had stabbed and chopped up in front of you. And yet…

“The hell is this?”

Lying at your feet is a black lump of something that you can't clearly make out.

(He wasn’t human.)

Indeed — it is like a polygon model. When you squint at it, it flickers and stutters sluggishly.

“The hell?”

You thought you had really done it. And yet…

—”I can grant any kind of wish you have.”

Just like that, the alluring whisper of the Devil came right back.

(This isn’t a dream.)

You're in Mobius. ]

[dms]

[ there's a long moment where kazunari doesn't know what to say. he remembers a brief mention of mobius before, something that sounded like a fancy sort of prison, but to see it like that... to see marie like that... ]

...I'm sorry for seeing that, Maririn.

[ having your memories broadcast for everyone is bad enough, but something like that? oof. ]

[classmate]

No, it's okay...

[ A brief pause. ]

I'm more sorry that you had to see it -- that sort of violence and anger, it's very different.