Mentally, the human mind was divided into different levels. There was the conscious, and there was the subconscious, followed by the unconscious. Each of them varied in properties and function; of course, there were more to them, but Grey never really knew what they were for, or what they actually did for the human psyche. All he knew was that thinking took considerable effort, and it was why he preferred just going with the flow.

The bus trundled down the busy streets of Sentinel Hill far too slowly for his liking. Grey had found himself dozing off shortly after boarding the bus in the window seat he had obtained entirely by chance.

Sometimes, he had vivid dreams. Sometimes, these dreams happened to have other people and incidents in them -- by now, he figured he had seen most of what it had to offer, but today's dream was a little different. It wasn't quite the same because of how different the landscape seemed; it had apparently changed to accommodate what Grey would probably call a 'guest.' It wasn't an unwelcome one, though.

Grey - Odysseus, really, in this strange dream - stood face-to-face with their mysterious guest, who seemed like an average person who spent way too much time in the gym.

They stood on a massive platform floating in the middle of a red sea that burned with undying flames; Odysseus seemed unperturbed as to what was happening.

The platform buoyed in rhythm to the bus' swaying as it picked up passengers from its designated stops. Blankly, Odysseus stared at the guest? intruder? whoever he was, and without speaking verbally, said in the plainest way possible, 'Why are you here?'

-- because everyone else was supposed to be dead.

nemesis

(( basically the idea is that grey's brain is structured like dream levels in inception, with J's mental landscape being the deepest level and odysseus, the surface; you could say that grey's own consciousness is scattered throughout the levels like the protag's wife from the movie lmao. they're pretty much only on level 1 rn. ))

Odysseus usually had a face that showed little to no emotion, but upon hearing what seemed like an accusation, his eyes softened and he turned to look away like a puppy kicked in the gut. He shifted to let the other man walk past him.

The platform started to grow to accommodate the stranger's movement, but the flames did not budge. In fact, the platform seemed to grow straight into the flames and beyond. The stranger could stare all he want, yet see nothing but odd flames, red seas, and red ... skies?

Slowly, the sky started to turn a sickening shade of red. It wasn't the type of sunset red that made people gasp in awe of its beauty, no; it was the shade that looked like the first droplet of blood that fell from cut wrists, the tint that people see when they feel anger, the hue that clouded senses when they felt what they thought was love.

'You can leave if you want.' Odysseus's voice was like a child's. Slightly hurt from rejection, but all too willing to give the other person a second chance. Then, as if not knowing how to answer his second question, Odysseus looked over at the man with a curious gaze. Who was he? Wasn't that a more appropriate question for the stranger himself?

'This is my home. It's not yours.' Something flashed in his gaze.

nemesis

So many questions. So many things this man wanted to know. Odysseus did not answer them all at once; it would have been too trying to attempt.

The platform floated across the ocean in a serene fashion. It weaved through the maze of undying flames slowly and gently, as if it were a boat being taken for a leisurely row across a lake.

'The door is that way,' Odysseus eventually said. The door was on the other side of the platform, behind where Max stood. Perhaps it had been there all along, and hadn't appeared until Max wanted it to. Or maybe all he had to do was ask.

A quiet calm took over the ocean.

'Good-bye. I'm glad you did not hurt me.'

nemesis

The door provided no resistance. Nothing stopped Max from making his way through the doorway that led to yet another wide expanse of sea. Except this time there were no flames, no burning skies, no danger -- only peaceful waters. Max now stood upon an island's dock with a houseboat anchored near it, and with no door behind him.

The houseboat swayed invitingly upon slow waves. Above Max, seagulls cawed as they flew past the clear skies.

It might as well have been an idyllic island resort in an island with a dormant volcano as a backdrop.

A different man came from behind Max; he was thinner than Odysseus was, but it was obvious that he was made up of muscle. He had a unique gait in his step, as if he were walking on water -- lightly, he approached Max.

Like Odysseus, he spoke without really speaking. 'Are you here ... for the boat?'

Unlike Odysseus, his syllables were uttered with a sort of mental resonance that ended brutishly. It was like someone had taken a jackhammer and swung it around in a room of ceramics -- the room was still intact and the shelves were still standing, but something had definitely been damaged.

Gale bristled, his hand stopping midway through his white hair. 'Or Gale?'

nemesis

(( ftr gale's fc is heine from dogs ))

'To safety,' came the answer, vague as it had always been. (What was 'always'? What had 'always been'? Was it the environment, or was it the feather-light footsteps that Gale took as he skirted closer into Max's personal space?)

Gale tilted his head as he looked at Max's expression of surprise. People who came to the docks were either after the boat, or after him. There shouldn't have been anything to be surprised about.

Lightly, he moved out of view, and came to a stop behind the other man. Standing behind someone else was safe -- it meant that he had their back. He could also take them down if he needed to. Face-to-face was dangerous, and was generally more conducive to getting stabbed in the gut.

'Home is not safe,' said Gale, after a moment of silence where the waves lapped idly against the side of the houseboat. 'Being lost is not safe.' Gale took a step closer to Max, as if realizing something. Somewhere in his brain, something had clicked.

'But Max -- said no harm. Max is safe, right?' There was less edge to his syllables now. 'Gale is safe too.'

He stepped around Max, and now stood in front of the other person. Gale was not smiling; his face was a picture of confusion as he gave Max a proper look for the first time in minutes.

'Boat is safe as well.' He pointed at the boat.

nemesis

The door swung open without resistance. Max found himself within the houseboat, which was modestly furnished. Outside, the island and docks were still there. Above him, the seagulls still flew in the skies. The volcano stood, regal and unmoving, as a backdrop to everything.

The houseboat rocked lightly as it was buoyed by the waves. The door had not been a portal out from the maze; it was also not a portal to a different dimension.

A few stools and shelves were within the small living space. A kettle sat upon a portable stove, humming its way to perfectly-brewed herbal tea.

Gale poked his head into the houseboat. He stared at Max with a sort of apathetic curiosity, if it was even possible -- 'Does Max fight for someone?' He paused, and his face scrunched up in thought. 'Does he do bad things?'

He sounded genuinely curious.

nemesis

'Max does bad things for good girls? But Max ...'

Gale tilted his head. He didn't seem to grasp the concept of what sisters were, or even the idea of siblings.

All the same, he pulled himself into the houseboat. It swayed to accommodate his movement, and the kettle rattled on the stove dangerously. Gale was ignorant of the danger it posed.

He took a jar of goji berries from a nearby shelf, cranked open the cover, and dropped a few of them into the boiling tea for additional flavour. After screwing the cap shut and replacing it where it was, Gale looked over his shoulder at Max.

'He might make them cry?'

nemesis