❝ SHARK BAIT ❞ ━ open, joining

[eliza]

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fern was a curious creature, any one of the few people who'd ever known her could attest to this fact. she'd spent the majority of her life in near total isolation, with only occasional visits from uncle bart to keep her sane and sharp. no one had ever bothered to teach her manners, things like please and thank you, which lead to more than a few tense encounters in recent months after leaving her seclusion. she tended to talk to inanimate things and herself, though she swore she wasn't crazy since she didn't expect a response. and, among countless other oddities, she was afraid of sharks.

this fear alone wasn't abnormal. the beasts were massive, quick and full of teeth, plenty to fear. what was odd was that fern had never seen an ocean, she lived nowhere near any bodies of water, and she only ever knew about the beasts from stories her uncle bart had told her. since he'd told her a spooky story of one of the water beasts during one of his brief visits, when fern had been just eight years old, she'd been terrified of them. she'd wake up at night, thinking a shark was going to sprout out of the well outside or the rainwater collection.

by the time she learned the science of sharks when uncle bart brought her a book on them, it was too late. the fear defied all logic and common sense, as fear tended to do, and it haunted her. she spent weeks, months, entirely alone in the cabin. there were no locks on the windows or the doors, and yet she was never afraid of a human coming in and hurting her. but she could swear that one of those damn sharks would crawl out of the ocean, hundreds of miles away, and it would come to her little cabin, sneak in, and bite a limb off when she last expected it. so she stayed armed, she stayed vigilant, and she tried not to bleed too much, knowing sharks were attracted to blood.

she sort of looked like a child, sitting there on the ground. she was overall small, maybe five feet tall, less than a hundred pounds. white-blonde hair hung to her shoulders, wavy and clearly self cut. her skin was fair, her eyes fair, everything about her fair, like the sun had never gotten the opportunity to kiss her skin. there was something wide-eyed and youthful about her face, like she was some gray-eyed cherub, wings hidden and ready to sprout out at any moment. she couldn't be older than twenty-one, twenty-two, still young enough to pass for harmless. pass for good.

the dress she wore was white, almost glowing in the sunlight, making fair skin seem tan in sharp contrast to it. it was a miracle, really, that she'd managed to keep an article of clothing so clean and untouched in the current world. it was rectangular shaped, stopping flat mid thigh, the neckline flat, from the base of one arm to another, thin straps connecting it front to back. she wore no shoes. it was an unremarkable outfit in truth, one that could be sewn in an easy thirty-minutes, but there was something about it.

there was something about all of it, in truth. something about the sight of her sitting beneath the tree that was draped in spanish moss, the sun making her seemingly glow, that made it look like a greek painting. something innocent and somehow wild in her features, something gentle and tender but yet untamed and uncontrolled. she was so fair, so golden, and the real greek-ness of it all was the trail of crimson that leaked out of her arm lazily, a slow but steady river. a bullet had been pulled out, discarded on the ground beside her, a little pool of blood around it. in her right hand she held a needle, slipping it through the skin with a careful precision as she stitched the wound up. if she really was a greek painting, she figured she'd be called something painful. bleeding fern or dying cherub, even though the bleeding was slowing and she wasn't actually dead.

still, in that moment, all she could think about was that irrational fear of sharks. all she could think was that the sharks were going to smell her blood, and logic be damned, they were gonna get her.

( wheeze this is fern and she's,,, by the border )

[Devilad]

[align=center][div style="width:455px;text-align:justify;font-family:nyala;font-size:8pt;letter-spacing:1px; color:#000"]　　　Rich red gradually fills the air, / bringing forth a young man, known as Eidottnawi Eddie, to end his walk so he can seek the source of it; / a casual act that is done for curiosity.

　　　( Define curiosity: [sup]Noun[/sup] A strong desire to know or learn something. )

　　　Interest runs high within his veins, causing his hands to twitch. / Twitch. / Twitch. / He follows the hanging trail until he finds a petite figure by a tree—bleeding, breathing, healing. / One, two, three, / he watches the daughter of sun insert a needle into her starry skin / and stitch, stitch, stitch.

　　　( Better keep your soul contained, where will we be without you? )

　　　He takes a step closer to her. / Head tilts, and eyebrows furrows. / Thinking.

　　　( Inquire, or offer? )

　　　❝ ...What happened...to you? ❞ A question, a wonder, but, nevertheless, / it is only so that stains with blood—dirty and careless ( though, if one is willing to clean it well, / perhaps, a small tint of concern is somewhere there ). / Resilience is seen in the little star's constant motions to keep herself alive, / hence her struggle lacks a reason for him to offer help.

　　　She'll be fine.

　　　( Heads or tails. )

[eliza]

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she knows he's here before he says anything. there's a distinct shift in the way the air sounds on her ears and the feeling of eyes on her that makes goosebumps appear on her skin. she slides the needle through once more, in one side and out the other like she's sewing a shirt, before she drops it, lets it dangle from her body by the string that had held the skin together, not bothered by the small tug it brings with it. she doesn't look at him, but to the small little pocket first aid kit, with only the string, a spare needle, and a pair of tiny scissors. she grabs the scissors, cuts the string, done with the stitches.

[color=#717D47]❝got shot.❞ she states the obvious, shifting gray eyes up to him. around the edges, there's a slight tint of pale sage, suggesting they're more green-based then blue-based, as most gray eyes tend to be. [color=#717D47]❝duh.❞ she doesn't mean this to be rude, she never does. but she's never been taught manners, never been taught that perhaps duh isn't something you say in polite conversation. however, it's innately apparent in the way she says it that there's no ill intention behind it, simply a naive, childish lack of knowing.

[color=#717D47]❝i'm lookin' for los santos,❞ she says, using her palms to shove herself to her feet, making no attempt to go easy on the arm she'd just stitched closed. [color=#717D47]❝you know where it is?❞ she figured she was close, and she figured he was probably one of them if he cared much about what a stranger was up to. but she didn't want to jump the gun just yet. so, instead, she offered out an arm (the right one, to be precise; she'd read somewhere that most people shook with their right) and stared at him with that childish duh face. [color=#717D47]❝i'm fern. y'know, like the plant.❞

( wheeZE CAN I JUST SAY i love your aesthetic sm okay )

[Devilad]

[div style="width:455px;text-align:justify;font-family:nyala;font-size:8pt;letter-spacing:1px; color:#000"][align=right]// *WHEEZE BACK* AA, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ <333

　　　Twitching and staring. / Staring and twitching. / Watching lips moving. / Expression and voice void of emotions, he mutters to himself, / ❝ Shot, shot, shot... ❞ / Repeating. Confirming. / She is only wounded by the gunshots, not dead by such a simple tool that can make both races and kingdoms fall. / She is a Human, not a Ghost. / Not a Ghost, but a Human. / A living, breathing Human.

　　　( Probe further, or discontinue? )

　　　❝ And for what...oc..o-occasion, exactly[b]? You had some bad people on your back? ❞[/b] A blunt strike against the obvious. / Let it burn with a fact that whomever shot her can also shower chaos upon Los Santos. / It is best to be cautious. / Always. / ❝ Well, regardless of the sit..situa-tuation behind your wound, it's good to see you're doing fine. ❞

　　　Her lips is moving once again. / Twitching and staring. / Staring and twitching. / He steps back once the other stands up to provide space between them. / Cautious. Cautious. Be cautious. / ❝ Los Santos. ❞ / Tap. Tap. Tap. / ❝ You're on Los Santos' border, ❞ / he responds, / while his motions against the surface are influenced with emphasis; / light, and quick, indeed, / but there is no irritation found in any of them, / if reassurance is needed. / ❝ Are you here to join[b]? ❞[/b]

　　　His maroon eyes narrows at an arm reaching out towards him. / Tension rises. / Cautious. Cautious. BE CAUTIOUS. / Lips moving. / Staring and twitching... / Fern. / ❝ Hello, Fern... It's a nice name. ❞ / Fern. Fern. Fern. / A flowerless plant that has feathery or leafy fronds that releases sprouts from the undersides of them.

　　　( Accept, or reject? )

　　　There is hesitation, but, eventually, / he accepts her offer, shaking her hand. / ❝ My name is Eidottnawi, but, please, call me Eddie. It's a pleasure to meet you. ❞ / Despite there are still lack of emotions within both his motion and words, they are gentle.

　　　( A sun may burn so fiercely and brightly, however, too much heat can even make a rose—a beautiful plant with deady thorns—turn into ashes. Haven't you ever heard a story of how Icarus died right beneath Apollo's fingers? When Icarus had a desire to kiss Apollo's hands to express his gratitude for giving him the freedom? [b]Beauty is a liar. [/b] )

[eliza]

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shot shot shot, he says, and ferns lips part to demand an answer as to why he's repeating it, but she doesn't. not to be polite, but because he keeps talking and she stops caring about the shot shot shot and more about his question. he asks if there's bad people, and she's not sure if he's being snotty, but she sees it that way, so she frowns. not a deep, had frown, but it's there. [color=#717D47]❝no.❞ is all she responds, hands hanging at her sides. [color=#717D47]❝'m always fine.❞ she says, not enunciating the i in i'm, leaving just the m sound. he says she's on the border, or so she makes out. the way he talks is strange, but it reminds her of uncle bart. he never spoke strangely to her, but when he thought she wasn't paying attentions, he'd sit there and stare at his hands, mumbling to himself about things from another life, about past wars and dead people. [color=#717D47]❝yeah.❞ she responds to the next question, about her joining; once more, she doesn't elaborate.

he compliments her name, and she blinks at that, slowly. she never thought about whether or not she liked it, or whether or not anyone else liked it, but she figures it's good that he does. [color=#717D47]❝it's a plant.❞ she says and, realizing it's not a full thought: [color=#717D47]❝i'm named after a plant.❞ she knows she wasn't born fern, but she isn't really sure what she was born. just like she knows uncle bart wasn't her family, but she didn't know who her real family was. uncle bart, with his nappy hair and his tree-colored skin, was a star contrast to her pale complexion. he always said it was why he kept her hair short when he was little, because he wasn't used to white girl hair. it took a while for her to understand that he meant white-girl hair, not girl hair that was white. these weren't things she'd ever been taught mattered though, things like skin color or family. uncle bart was there, so he was family. she wondered if he'd come home since she'd left, to find the cabin empty and the farm dead, the animals released. she'd waited four hundred and twenty-two days for uncle bart to come home, and she couldn't wait forever.

he told her his name, but he said she could call him eddie, and she liked that more. eddie was short and simple, like fern or bart, and it wasn't as pompous as big words and names tended to feel to her. so she shakes his hand, her grip firm for a girl with such a scrawny frame, and she gives a sharp nod. [color=#717D47]❝nice to meet'cha eddie.❞ once more, her dialogue feels youthful and childish, sort of innocent in the way she blurs words together. [color=#717D47]❝i like the way you talk.❞ maybe it's nice, maybe it's rude, but it doesn't occur to her either way. she simply says what there is to be said.

[grimdark]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 10pt;"]devilad, god of aesthetics?? more likely than you think
tw for mentions of blood/gore

---

Reality or fantasy?
Fiction or nonfiction?

A line blurred from a young age with few days to differentiate between fact and fiction; a dream or an event taking place in the real world. A fog settled comfortably and causing speeding thoughts to derail and scatter for validation and recognition lest they become forgotten and devoured by the dense cloud hovering over a tired mind.

( Pearly whites fangs gnashing in a feverish manner, ripping through flesh—his flesh—and red stained white. gnawing and chewing and crunching— FEASTING. FEASTING ON HIM. PAIN! PANIC! No, no, no, no, nooo. Stop, please, stop. Cold. Numb. Nothing. But there's still the CRUNCHING and MUNCHING and suffocation. No air, no air. Teeth ripping out tendons and arteries, neck spasming– GUSHING. Lifeblood flowing freely. Crimson liquid painting sharp teeth and splattering across the green canvas surrounding him. NO AIR. )

Violent jerk of the head, body coating itself in sweat, and confusion swimming in the sea of a struggling consciousness. Dreamy eyes blinked rapidly before staring in the direction of the Sun, squinting as the bright rays filled his vision. Escape the all-too-familiar and disastrous yet oddly comforting fog that lazily draped itself over weary shoulders.

Focus.

Bare feet languidly traveled over cool grass and cast down eyes after they had enough of soaking in the sunshine, raking over his shadow again and again. Anything to keep the sleep, the nightmares, away. The three cups of coffee chugged down in the morning didn't help in the slightest and thought about throwing some hot or cold water in his face. (He knew better.)

Each step slow–too slow. Dragging. Nearly dragging yet not at the same time. Sluggish? Could he feel his feet? Was his feet even there? Is this another dream? He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was and any moment he'd be sliced in half, laying on the ground as guts littered the earth with empty screams that would soon fade into nothingness. Maybe the wolves are waiting, observing, stalking. Looking for the right moment to strike and rip him to shreds all over again, feasting on skin and bones, coating white teeth with red, gleaming eyes void and pitiless. Sleeping was hell.

The distant sound of voices capture the male's interest, enough so that the drowsiness clinging to his body momentarily released its grip. A voice rang in higher pitch, not in the bad sense, but only what he considered to be feminine. Somewhere rough in tone wise. Unapologetic and... uneducated? No, no. Childlike? It's the closest his mind could muster up on the spot and hummed at the familiar masculine tone of emptiness, yet managed to be good natured.

Eidottnawi, Eddie. Real. They're real. In the moment before his mind regressed back into its cloudy nature, the greek knew they were an actual person, not one of imagination. The days when the fog briefly lifted from his mind revealed them to be so. Yet the other... Blue eyes laced with brown around the pupil idly went over the small female, observing the unrealness of her appearance. A dream, a dream.

A delicate arm moved in the direction of the taller individual and— Jaw slacking and head drooping forward, his mind got slammed right back into the dream world. ( It was as if they took a pose for a painting. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Fluffy white wing sprouted behind the neat, clean white dress while the woman leaned forward as a strong hand took hers. Dark. Brooding. Nothing yet something interesting– ).

Head snapping up, Hypno brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing them before going on to rub his face all over. Introductions were made and blinked lazily at the female's words. Fern. Simple and pretty. A word he could repeat over and over until it tasted weird on the tongue. Ambling over, he smiled, warm and welcoming, as he came to stand beside Eddie. White shirt sticking to his back from breaking out into a sweat from the nightmare earlier, dark hair ruffled in a fashion to indicate he just rolled out of bed. (He did.)

"Welcome, Fern." Words roll of the tongue unhurried, laced with the constant tiredness. "Glad to have you. I'm Hypno."

Mission successful. He didn't fall asleep on her while talking.

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:15px;"]There was something about the scene that reeled Tiberius in. Made his skin crawl and his eyes lock. Disturbing- and Tiberius loved to be disturbed. It was not the needle joining flesh to flesh, nor was it the crimson that dripped from her limb, nor was it the bullet on the ground. It was the way the night ichor trickled against the fair complexion, it was the way she went unbothered by the task, it was the way her vocabulary was harsh while she appeared soft.

It was the contrast.

Tiberius had lived in isolation the majority of his life as well- relatively. Swallowed whole by four stark white walls, staring at the camera peering down on him, greeted by the presence of another only when he was needed. He was a tool, a weapon, an object. Called upon only when he was given an order, speaking only in forms of, "yes, sir," or "no, sir," unless he was throwing one of his infamous rebellious fits- but he was soon conditioned to know better- to know with uncontrolled rage came consequences. He learned violence, he learned discipline, he learned patience- and with this, he learned vengeance. He took these lessons with him when he left that bunker, covered in blood and dragging his stained fingers across those stark white walls.

He knew all about contrast.

As he approached Eidottnawi, he dipped his head in acknowledgement, grateful he had greeted her first. Hypno arrived just before him, and Tiberius stood beside the other, placing a hand on his shoulder briefly in greeting- alerting him of his presence in a way he hoped would also help anchor him to reality. "Welcome," He rumbled, looking back to Fern, settling in his steps with a crunch of gravel. "Tiberius. Leader here." After she had greeted Eddie, Tiberius removed his hand from resting on his secured pistol to extend in a handshake as well. Not many people shook hands nowadays. He remembered when he first learned of this custom after his freedom, being taken aback by the gesture, but appreciating it in some odd way.

[spoiler=TAGS | DONT YOU WANT TO BE SOMEBODY]GENERAL. HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THE LONESOME LOSER?
& Tiberius Calloway | Addressed most oftenly as Calloway, sometimes Tiberius
& 23 years old | Born October 30th | Scorpio
& Los Santos | Lord
& Suffers from Generalized Anxiety Disorder && Insomnia triggered by Sleep Paralysis
& Speaks Spanish and English (more so Spanglish)

APPEARANCE. BEATEN BY THE QUEEN OF HEARTS EVERY TIME
& 6'4" and 200 lbs. | Lean and muscular
& Physical health: 92% | Minor scars, black eye, and bruisings
& Dark brown eyes | Dark brown hair | Slashes across back from previous abuse
& Spanish heritage | Native speaker of both Spanish && English
& Pierced ears (one small hoop, one small dangly cross) | Covered in countless tattoos from face to legs FACE REFERENCE
& Wears t-shirts/sweatshirts with layered jackets and hoodies, fitted jeans, and sneakers

RELATIONSHIPS. UNLUCKY AT LOVE AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT THEY SAY
& NPC x NPC | 0 living relatives (unaware)
& Bisexual biromantic | Single | ½ of TBA
& [ 0 ] crushes | TBA
& Trusts: TBA
& Closed off and defensive | Aggressive nature

TRAITS. HE LOST HIS HEAD AND HE GAMBLED HIS HEART AWAY
& POSITIVE: Loyal, alpha, soft spoken, generous, loving, protective, parental, compassionate, humorous
& NEGATIVE: Unapproachable, hostile, defensive, aggressive, unforgiving, merciless, headstrong, stubborn, rebellious, restless, indecisive, rude, apathetic, manipulative
& TROPES: Blood Knight | Undying Loyalty | Hired Guns

BATTLE TAGS. STAKED HIS HEART AND LOSS, NOW HE HAS TO PAY THE COST
& Difficulty with weapons: Extreme | Difficulty in hand to hand: Hard
& Strength: 8/10 | Aim accuracy: 8/10 | Stamina: 7/10 | Luck: 3/10 | Flexibility: 3/10 | Reaction Time: 6/10
& Will not be merciful if you have threatened him or his loved ones | Has killed and will do it again
& Likes to play dirty | Good with a bat
& Attack in bold blue or tag

[eliza]

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there were times when she asked things that bordered on improper. there were times where she said things that one with any social skills knew better than to say aloud. there were times when the tone of her voice or the look on her face when she spoke said more than her lips, parted and moving, ever did. this was, perhaps, one of those times when all three applied at once.

[color=#717D47]❝what's wrong with you?❞ a sort of spooked look on her face as she looked at him. she didn't mean to be rude deep down, she really didn't ━ she was concerned about him if anything. clearly, there was something wrong, and she was worried about a stranger who seemed kind enough. she just couldn't figure out how to convey that, and it seemed that it was too late in life to learn. but, she did at least swallow back more questions when he offered a name, unsure if he heard hers before. [color=#717D47]❝fern, like the plant.❞ she restated, chewing the inside of her lip.

another man. this one was around her age as well, and big, bigger than the other two. her head craned back a bit to see him, sixteen inches above her. her brain reeled back to fractions, and she isn't sure why she does the math, but she does. four fifths, is the result. she's four fifths of his height. eighty percent. she's eighty percent of his height, and while eighty percent really isn't a lot, it feels like a lot. he's a whole head and shoulders above her, plus some, and she's reminded of uncle bart again. uncle bart was tall.

[color=#717D47]❝hi.❞ she greets, and when he offers a hand, she gladly takes it, giving a shake, once more her scrawny form misleading, her grip hard and firm for someone her size, with such small, uncalloused hands. [color=#717D47]❝what's a-❞ she was going to ask what a leader was, but she remembers quickly. hierarchies are unfamiliar to her, but she understands the concept of it. uncle bart, he was a leader. she used to be a leader, at least of her home ━ she only ever really lead the animals, but still, she was in charge and they understood that. she figures leading people might be more difficult, though. [color=#717D47]❝nevermind.❞ she says and shakes her head, dismissing the half spoken question. [color=#717D47]❝i'm fern, like the plant.❞ she adds, once more unsure if this man had caught her name.

[Devilad]

[div style="width:455px;text-align:justify;font-family:nyala;font-size:8pt;letter-spacing:1px; color:#000"][align=right]// Gosh, @ Kid, asvghs thank you~! ; w ;

　　　He blinks at her—Fern's—responds at his question. / No. No. No. / ❝ Always fine, always fine... Always. ❞ His voice, like the last time he repeated, is faint. / Consciousness wandering between surrounding and mind. / Pondering. / What does it mean to be always fine? / ( Don't you know stars are meant to shine and guide / as they collapse and crumble? )

　　　( Question Fern, or discontinue? )

　　　❝ ...Welcome, then. May your stay here be pleasant, ❞ / says Eddie, dropping their oldest conversation, when he wishes to give her the comfort she may appreciate to have. / Especially, after the incident—shot, shot, shot. / She have gone through so much. / May she soon rest, rest, rest.

　　　His attention then starts to invade over Fern's statement regarding her name. / A parasite, it is. / Wiggling. / Shrinking. / Expanding. / Wiggling. / Nonstop. / Repeat. / Repeat. / A parasite, his curiosity is. / ❝ Your name is Fern. You're named after a plant... A plant. Named after a plant that can be stepped on and be wil-wilted so easily, yes... ❞ / Breathe. / ❝ However, you are also named after what brings beauty to this world and...s-sources for those who finds good use of them. ❞

　　　Balance. / The good and the bad. / Stay in the middle. / The pros and the cons. / Balance.

　　　❝ ...I may not know...why you stated that as if you're...uncertain of your i-identity, and if that is the case, while, cl-clearly, it is not my business to inter-interfere...in your...internal struggles, what I...I do wish to say is I hope you will eventu-...eventually find yourself. It's never too late to do so, I assure you, Fern. ❞

　　　Listen.

　　　Listen, / as he pull his hand away from hers. / Listen, as he roll his shoulders / and allow his iron bones to crack and rumble. /  A sign of a gate opening for the tension to be free. / He frowns at what seems to be a...compliment. / Compliment. / A compliment for him. / For him. / What a foreign concept. ❝ Like[b]? ❞[/b] / echoes Eddie. / He allows Fern's words to sink into his head for a brief moment. / Staring. / Twitching. / " Your...c-com-...pliment has been noted... Thank you... " / Though, he takes it, / with his tone yet crafted in crimson calm, / he soon falls into doubts. / Twitching. / Staring.

　　　( What a fool. )

　　　Ground is quivering. / A blink. / Step by step, step by step. / Two figures. / Eddie swiftly looks over to see they were Hypno and Tiberius. / A blink. / A nod at their directions in acknowledgment. / Greetings. / Then, he quiet himself down so they can speak to Fern ( while in the corner of his eyes, he watches Hypno's consciousness travels back and forth. / Reality and Dream Realms. / Dream Realms and Reality. / Falling. / Rising. / Switching. / Rising. / Falling. / The sheep is breathing all the same. / He notices a hand of the Lord resting on Hypno's shoulder. / Wake up, child. / Wake up. ).

　　　( Remain, or leave? )

　　　Finding no other reasons to stay any more longer, / especially since his acquaintances can handle Fern from there, / the young man simply send a nod towards the three in farewell before he departs.

[grimdark]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 10pt;"]A jolt. Sharp, quick, electrifying. Body giving a jerk of surprise with equal facial features at the light touch, yet the hand weighed heavy on the shoulder. Solid. Real? Is it real? Partially heterochromatic eyes casually slid over to the hand before up to rest on the familiar face. Tiberius. Yes, yes. Of course. He's real. Tiberius is real. This hand resting on his shoulder wasn't a figment of his imagination. Then it retracted itself. Gone. Vanished. Not Tiberius– no, he's still here. (Not a dream.) A tired smile was sent in the Lord's direction and remained silent as he spoke, fingers picking at the fuzz of his shirt. Another strong arm out to grasp the dainty hand belonging to the pretty woman. It seemed... Strange. Shaking hands. Odd yet interesting at the same time.

The adrenaline that pumped a few seconds again was quick to diminish, fading back into the tettering line of reality and dreams. Tired, so tired. An inquiry popped into existence and processed it for a long period of time, grabbing and holding on so it doesn't get lost. Eyes shift down to have at Fern, brows furrowing with the gears in his head turning. Astonished and concerned. A tired smile. Light and amused yet tired. "Don't–" Head lulling forward, he snapped it right back up, squinting and putting full effort to focus. Focus on Fern. Focus on Fern. "Don't worry about it, it's nothing... Nothing major." He shook his head, trying to rid the impending sleepiness pushing down on his conscious. Persistent yet gentle at the same time.

( Choking. Water. Water everywhere. DARK. No lights. Drowning. Water in nose and mouth, swallowing, gagging, choking. Where's the surface? )

Eyes fly open and rapidly blink, head previously off to the side now straight as words flood into adjusting ears. Hypno glanced from side to side slowly, spotting Eddie leaving them– a nod off farewell. A grin in return before resting his hazy vision on Fern. "Is there anything you need or be shown around...?"

What was he supposed to do in this situation again?