Who: Ariadne and Arthur What: Ariadne's having nightmares. When: Early hours of Tuesday morning. Where: Their apartment Rating: Low, probably some cursing though. Status: In progress
In retrospect, she probably should have expected it. Ariadne was putting a brave face on things, trying to not completely lose her shit at the prospect of being sucked into a town she'd never heard of and then stuck there with no way of contacting the outside world. Also with magic, and people who were characters from movies and books. This was more than a little ridiculous. But she trusted Arthur not to lie to her.
And apparently he couldn't, because sometimes the town's magic had very specific effects. Ariadne had been too tired and bewildered to feel much of a compulsion to speak. But then, she was suffering from jet lag and the effects of a ten-hour stint in a shared dream. With a bonus trip to Limbo.
She sank into her bed - in her new apartment, in the apartment she was sharing with Arthur, because apparently fate wasn't through having fun with her yet - and prayed for swift, dreamless sleep. Instead Ariadne dreamt of falling endlessly through empty air crackling with lightning bolts, of sad gentlemen carrying toy airplanes and pinwheels, of hollow-eyed ghosts with smiles as pointed as the daggers they drove into her stomach.
When she woke up the third time, bolting up and gasping and clawing her hair out of her face, Ariadne gave up on sleep and padded into the kitchen. Maybe there was some tea hiding in a cupboard.