[He doesn't remember his name anymore, just that he was one of his former clients, a prisoner with disgusting eyes. He feels the weight of the other man over his back, elbow between his shoulders and other hand grabbing at his hair to jerk his head back after he had fallen from the electric shock of the baton.
Danny doesn't quite pass out like he did before the last time he fought this man; he's forced to nearly choke on his tongue when the prisoner suddenly starts jabbing the electric baton at his face, right where his glass eye is. He nearly bashes his head against the floor trying to get away, before he manages to jerk one of his arms up and grab the man by the wrist and pull, pull until their positions are reversed and he brings his hands up to the man's face. Danny digs his finger nails into the man's eye sockets, trying to tear his eyes out with little finesse, tear them apart into a pile of mush...
And then the man suddenly disappears beneath him, and before Danny can even figure out where he went, there's something cracking against the back of his skull, knocking him to the floor. As he pulls himself back up, he sees Henry attempting to grab at his face, crowbar prepared to swing down again.
This one, too, he manages to avoid death at the hands of, grabbing the crowbar in time before it can stab into his face. Turns the tables of Henry by knocking him to his knees and jamming the crowbar down his throat as hard as he can... before he too disappears, and is replaced by another, and another, and another person that refuses to stay dead as they should be. He kicks the chair over of some person who struggles for air as they are hung from the ceiling, shoves a gun against Lucy's skull, and... ah, there's the sound of someone running down the hall just outside this room, he needs to kill them too doesn't he? It's probably that girl with the freckles he had brought in the other day, but first, he needs to do something about Shin, who is currently attempting to swing a hammer at his hands and break his fingers...]
[What Danny doesn't realize is that in the waking world, he's been tossing and turning a bit in his sleep, making a noise that sounds like pain or just frustration with whatever it is that he's dreaming about right now. Enough so that it's probably being a distraction to his partner here, now that Danny actually lives together with Grimm here. Even being shaken by the shoulder or having his name called doesn't seem to rouse Danny all that much...]
[Grimm does not usually intrude on others' dreams.
He is able to, of course. He is not called the Nightmare King for lack of power over that realm. It is as easy as breathing to him. But nightmares are intensely personal, the worst parts of a person's life on display - their fears and regrets - and he does not wish to enter without invitation.
Even with Lobco, who had nightmares frequently, he did not interrupt.
But then again, he didn't sleep in the same bed as Lobco. Not like with Danny, whose tumultuous nightmare is causing Grimm no small amount of distress himself. He's tried calling to him and shaking him, but nothing seems to work.
Grimm can't just sit and do nothing. He hopes, at least, that Danny will forgive him for the intrusion.
Ah.
Grimm makes his presence known to Danny by Shin disappearing in a burst of flame. He has complete control over this nightmare, if he so chooses, and he will not allow Danny to come to harm.]
Forgive my interruption, love, but you refused to wake.
[Grimm had come dangerously close to having what looks like a large bonesaw Danny had picked up from his operating table hit him, as Danny had swung it at Shin several times to try to hack his hands off in retaliation, only for the other man to disappear in a burst of flames.
A distorted automated voice is speaking over the loudspeakers, one that he had stopped paying attention to a while ago with each person that has appeared in front of him to kill: "--HAs BeCOMe thE sacRIFICE, EVERY-EVERY-EVERYONE ON EACH FLOOR, get yourselves ready-red-RED-RED-RED--" before it suddenly scratches out and dies along with Shin as Grimm takes control of the nightmare.
There's a long moment where there's nothing but dead silence left behind, no movement, before Danny's lowering his weapon. Blood drips onto the floor, forming a puddle. It's hard to read Danny's facial expression, his eyes hidden behind glasses that reflect his floor's ceiling lights.]
Oh... is that right.
[There's not a lot of emotion in his words, as if he's still sort of in a daze processing that information about not waking up.]
[As anyone would be, if their partner were having a terrible nightmare.
Grimm takes a good look around the place. Blood splatters everywhere. An unpleasant facility of some kind. This is more like a memory than a fantasy - or at least, there's more basis to this than most dreams.]
[It is indeed a rather unpleasant looking place to be. It seems like the inside of a hospital, except for all the blood splattered everywhere on the walls, the floor, Danny's clothing. Some of it seems to be his... but a good amount of it definitely seems to belong to other people given the way it's splattered onto him, or patches clinging to his hands and hair in a mess.]
I see... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.
[His glasses still have that shiny opaque look to them, as he then turns and starts walking away, apparently no longer interested in being here at this particular part of his floor.]
But, I suppose that makes sense. You wouldn't be here otherwise.
[Danny certainly assumes the former rather than the latter, because... well this isn't exactly a cheery dream for anyone to end up having to see.
There's an ugly sound of blood being stepped in, broken glass crunched under foot as Danny continues walking. He stops at one room, which appears to be set up as an operating room judging by the table of tools and the bed in the middle with bloody restraints hanging off of it. He sets the bloody bone saw down with the other tools methodically, as if this is a normal routine as he adjusts some others on the table, putting everything back in their proper place despite knowing now that this is just a dream of his former place in life.]
Can you please hand me those forceps by your feet?
[He asks rather politely, pointing to said ones in question on the floor that... uh. Definitely don't look friendly and were more than likely used on some poor person here.]
[Danny momentarily freezes at the question, before he answers in a tone attempting to be just as neutral about it as he sets the forceps down.]
I've had too many people try to kill me before in the past to not be used retaliating in kind by now.
[At least, that's a valid excuse for people like Zack, that prisoner, Henry, or his memory of Shin a minute ago... not so much for anyone else that he's killed in this building for the crime of being unlucky to cross paths with him.]
It can be, yes. [...] Especially in a place like this, depending on who you ask.
[He seems satisfied with the arrangement of tools on his table here before he drops his hands, at a bit of a loss for a moment as he looks up at the ceiling.]
Normally, there's only certain people that show up in this particular building. Humans that have been supposedly failing in some way when it comes to their way of living, or have led others to be skeptical of their so-called virtue. Whether it be due to a crime that needs to be atoned for, or even simply to be made aware of their own ignorance for the good things they have to appreciate in life. They are subjected to judgement by the ones called "angels" that live on each floor of the building, to determine whether or not they are worthy of returning to the life they had before.
[There's a pause, and then he asks--]
What do you think the purpose of this floor is, that's been modeled to look like a hospital?
[Danny blinks at that... before he suddenly laughs, as if that's the funniest thing he's ever heard.]
Oh wow, that's quite a poetic way to put it! I don't think I've ever had someone offer that interpretation before, even if it is undoubtedly correct.
[And then he turns away, spreads his arms wide to gesture to the operating room around them in an almost theatrical manner.]
Yes, that's a great way to put it, isn't it? On this floor, people are not just mentally tested, they are pulled apart at the seams to be literally inspected on the inside to see what makes them tick! After all, you can tell a lot about someone based on how they treat their own body.
[... And then, Danny drops his arms down.]
Although, in my opinion, you can usually figure those things out just by looking someone in the eye, don't you think? Some people don't realize it, but they give away a lot just by how their eyes appear when making eye contact with others. So it seems kind of unnecessary to go to such extreme measures to dissect what they are on the inside when you can just do that, right?
[Danny is quiet for a moment, before he tilts his head here not quite in affirmation, but not a denial either.]
"Judging" is a word for it, I suppose. Not the one I would use for myself personally in comparison to the others, but it's not necessarily wrong either, depending on how you look at it.
... Then again, perhaps we were the ones being judged instead? As an experiment to see just how far we were willing to go to fulfill our own ambitions, and prove our loyalty and usefulness to the one that played the part of our God, as we played the part of his angels... but then, that's just depressing to consider, isn't it? And right now I'm not interested in thinking too hard about such things here.
[He brushes the thought off, but the fact that he even suggested it is probably evidence enough that Danny has considered this line of thought about his position more than once before.
He then proceeds to sit on the operating table here, which is surprisingly the one surface that's still clean despite all the blood that had been splattered around in other places here. It seems that Danny has come to some kind of decision here that involves honesty, as he gestures around them again.]
Regardless, I am considered the master of this floor. There's no use in pretending with you at this juncture, is there? You've already seen too much for me to lie otherwise. Though I have to say... my dreams about this place are not typically like this. Normally, I'm usually alone here.
[Either just by himself on this empty floor, or with the company of corpses, moving or otherwise. So it's... surreal, sitting here and talking to Grimm, a person who is still living as far as Danny's memory is concerned.]
One of my dearest friends regularly eats her partners after coupling with them. I find it distasteful, yes, but I'm certainly not about to break up with you for it.
[Bugs are different from humans in a lot of ways. And no matter how eloquent he may be, Grimm is a bug.]
[Danny squints at that, like it's only now occurring to him that maybe he should have expected different moral standards from a bug than a human, but is still rather skeptical here.]
Well, I can tell you that it's usually considered a major dealbreaker for most in my world, as well as here in the world we live in now, depending on who you ask.
[Danny rests his chin against his hand, and as he tilts his head, the light off his glasses dim enough to properly show his eyes. Specifically, his alexandrite glass eye that has two pupils in it as opposed to one like a normal eye that it seems he's been wearing this whole time, though it's hard to tell if Danny knows this or not.]
And besides, I never said that my reasons for being involved in this business were noble ones. Judging people for their sins was more the Reverend and Cathy's thing than mine, where as my interests were... elsewhere.
[He says, with a side glance towards the back room at the right of here, where his collection of eyes is being kept.]
[Holy shit how dare you call him out on his own floor like this Grimm--he makes a really funny expression at being so bluntly called out on that before he schools his expression back.]
And what if I chose not to?
[Now his tone is a little more challenging, smile less pleasant.]
What if I decided I wanted to kill someone here in this world? Regardless of whether or not they attacked me first or did anything to truly deserve it.
[For some reason, Danny isn't happy with that. He doesn't know why he's suddenly so determined to try to find a crack here that can cause Grimm to hate him, but then, perhaps its having lived a lifetime of always waiting for the other shoe to drop that makes it hard to really believe that someone would still love him despite knowing this worst part of himself.]
Then... what if I decide one day to start a new collection, starting with taking your eyes for myself.
[He says, with a slight flourish of hand movement here. One moment it's empty, the next he's holding a sharp scalpel retrieved from his labcoat, pointed toward Grimm's face from where he's sitting.]
I wouldn't kill you of course, since even I know I'm incapable of succeeding in that regard. Not when your death is already predetermined by that "Ritual" of yours. But, I don't recall if you ever said that it could save you from being blinded before then...
[That amusement momentarily annoys him, until Grimm speaks of retaliation in such a... well, Grimm manner of doing so that he can't help but smile a little as well.]
"Dance", huh... come to think of it, we've never really done that before, have we?
[Both the kind Grimm means, and the traditional sense of the word, really.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
november nightmares (cw: description of terrible murders)
Danny doesn't quite pass out like he did before the last time he fought this man; he's forced to nearly choke on his tongue when the prisoner suddenly starts jabbing the electric baton at his face, right where his glass eye is. He nearly bashes his head against the floor trying to get away, before he manages to jerk one of his arms up and grab the man by the wrist and pull, pull until their positions are reversed and he brings his hands up to the man's face. Danny digs his finger nails into the man's eye sockets, trying to tear his eyes out with little finesse, tear them apart into a pile of mush...
And then the man suddenly disappears beneath him, and before Danny can even figure out where he went, there's something cracking against the back of his skull, knocking him to the floor. As he pulls himself back up, he sees Henry attempting to grab at his face, crowbar prepared to swing down again.
This one, too, he manages to avoid death at the hands of, grabbing the crowbar in time before it can stab into his face. Turns the tables of Henry by knocking him to his knees and jamming the crowbar down his throat as hard as he can... before he too disappears, and is replaced by another, and another, and another person that refuses to stay dead as they should be. He kicks the chair over of some person who struggles for air as they are hung from the ceiling, shoves a gun against Lucy's skull, and... ah, there's the sound of someone running down the hall just outside this room, he needs to kill them too doesn't he? It's probably that girl with the freckles he had brought in the other day, but first, he needs to do something about Shin, who is currently attempting to swing a hammer at his hands and break his fingers...]
[What Danny doesn't realize is that in the waking world, he's been tossing and turning a bit in his sleep, making a noise that sounds like pain or just frustration with whatever it is that he's dreaming about right now. Enough so that it's probably being a distraction to his partner here, now that Danny actually lives together with Grimm here. Even being shaken by the shoulder or having his name called doesn't seem to rouse Danny all that much...]
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He is able to, of course. He is not called the Nightmare King for lack of power over that realm. It is as easy as breathing to him. But nightmares are intensely personal, the worst parts of a person's life on display - their fears and regrets - and he does not wish to enter without invitation.
Even with Lobco, who had nightmares frequently, he did not interrupt.
But then again, he didn't sleep in the same bed as Lobco. Not like with Danny, whose tumultuous nightmare is causing Grimm no small amount of distress himself. He's tried calling to him and shaking him, but nothing seems to work.
Grimm can't just sit and do nothing. He hopes, at least, that Danny will forgive him for the intrusion.
Ah.
Grimm makes his presence known to Danny by Shin disappearing in a burst of flame. He has complete control over this nightmare, if he so chooses, and he will not allow Danny to come to harm.]
Forgive my interruption, love, but you refused to wake.
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A distorted automated voice is speaking over the loudspeakers, one that he had stopped paying attention to a while ago with each person that has appeared in front of him to kill: "--HAs BeCOMe thE sacRIFICE, EVERY-EVERY-EVERYONE ON EACH FLOOR, get yourselves ready-red-RED-RED-RED--" before it suddenly scratches out and dies along with Shin as Grimm takes control of the nightmare.
There's a long moment where there's nothing but dead silence left behind, no movement, before Danny's lowering his weapon. Blood drips onto the floor, forming a puddle. It's hard to read Danny's facial expression, his eyes hidden behind glasses that reflect his floor's ceiling lights.]
Oh... is that right.
[There's not a lot of emotion in his words, as if he's still sort of in a daze processing that information about not waking up.]
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[As anyone would be, if their partner were having a terrible nightmare.
Grimm takes a good look around the place. Blood splatters everywhere. An unpleasant facility of some kind. This is more like a memory than a fantasy - or at least, there's more basis to this than most dreams.]
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I see... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.
[His glasses still have that shiny opaque look to them, as he then turns and starts walking away, apparently no longer interested in being here at this particular part of his floor.]
But, I suppose that makes sense. You wouldn't be here otherwise.
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[Grimm follows in step, close behind.]
But there is nothing you need to apologize for.
[Not worrying him, nor this draem.]
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[Danny certainly assumes the former rather than the latter, because... well this isn't exactly a cheery dream for anyone to end up having to see.
There's an ugly sound of blood being stepped in, broken glass crunched under foot as Danny continues walking. He stops at one room, which appears to be set up as an operating room judging by the table of tools and the bed in the middle with bloody restraints hanging off of it. He sets the bloody bone saw down with the other tools methodically, as if this is a normal routine as he adjusts some others on the table, putting everything back in their proper place despite knowing now that this is just a dream of his former place in life.]
Can you please hand me those forceps by your feet?
[He asks rather politely, pointing to said ones in question on the floor that... uh. Definitely don't look friendly and were more than likely used on some poor person here.]
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You are quite accustomed to killing, are you not? You hardly seem fazed.
[He comments on it in the same tone of voice one would use to talk about the weather.]
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I've had too many people try to kill me before in the past to not be used retaliating in kind by now.
[At least, that's a valid excuse for people like Zack, that prisoner, Henry, or his memory of Shin a minute ago... not so much for anyone else that he's killed in this building for the crime of being unlucky to cross paths with him.]
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[Why would anyone want to kill Danny? He's a perfectly nice person, hardly worthy of being targeted.]
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[He seems satisfied with the arrangement of tools on his table here before he drops his hands, at a bit of a loss for a moment as he looks up at the ceiling.]
Normally, there's only certain people that show up in this particular building. Humans that have been supposedly failing in some way when it comes to their way of living, or have led others to be skeptical of their so-called virtue. Whether it be due to a crime that needs to be atoned for, or even simply to be made aware of their own ignorance for the good things they have to appreciate in life. They are subjected to judgement by the ones called "angels" that live on each floor of the building, to determine whether or not they are worthy of returning to the life they had before.
[There's a pause, and then he asks--]
What do you think the purpose of this floor is, that's been modeled to look like a hospital?
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Dissection of the unworthy.
[Like bugs under pins and glass.]
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Oh wow, that's quite a poetic way to put it! I don't think I've ever had someone offer that interpretation before, even if it is undoubtedly correct.
[And then he turns away, spreads his arms wide to gesture to the operating room around them in an almost theatrical manner.]
Yes, that's a great way to put it, isn't it? On this floor, people are not just mentally tested, they are pulled apart at the seams to be literally inspected on the inside to see what makes them tick! After all, you can tell a lot about someone based on how they treat their own body.
[... And then, Danny drops his arms down.]
Although, in my opinion, you can usually figure those things out just by looking someone in the eye, don't you think? Some people don't realize it, but they give away a lot just by how their eyes appear when making eye contact with others. So it seems kind of unnecessary to go to such extreme measures to dissect what they are on the inside when you can just do that, right?
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[What makes a person tick tends to include guts and entrails of all kinds. Not clean at all.]
And you are an 'angel' that judges those who come here, yes?
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"Judging" is a word for it, I suppose. Not the one I would use for myself personally in comparison to the others, but it's not necessarily wrong either, depending on how you look at it.
... Then again, perhaps we were the ones being judged instead? As an experiment to see just how far we were willing to go to fulfill our own ambitions, and prove our loyalty and usefulness to the one that played the part of our God, as we played the part of his angels... but then, that's just depressing to consider, isn't it? And right now I'm not interested in thinking too hard about such things here.
[He brushes the thought off, but the fact that he even suggested it is probably evidence enough that Danny has considered this line of thought about his position more than once before.
He then proceeds to sit on the operating table here, which is surprisingly the one surface that's still clean despite all the blood that had been splattered around in other places here. It seems that Danny has come to some kind of decision here that involves honesty, as he gestures around them again.]
Regardless, I am considered the master of this floor. There's no use in pretending with you at this juncture, is there? You've already seen too much for me to lie otherwise. Though I have to say... my dreams about this place are not typically like this. Normally, I'm usually alone here.
[Either just by himself on this empty floor, or with the company of corpses, moving or otherwise. So it's... surreal, sitting here and talking to Grimm, a person who is still living as far as Danny's memory is concerned.]
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[If Grimm sounds honestly confused, it's because he is.]
We all have our bad habits. Yours is murder. Expecting your partner to be perfect is no basis for a relationship.
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[Guess that wasn't the response Danny was expecting here, faltering for a moment in his initial grandstanding stance on the matter here.]
I just told you that I'm practically a serial killer... and that's what you respond with? Really?
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[Bugs are different from humans in a lot of ways. And no matter how eloquent he may be, Grimm is a bug.]
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Well, I can tell you that it's usually considered a major dealbreaker for most in my world, as well as here in the world we live in now, depending on who you ask.
[Danny rests his chin against his hand, and as he tilts his head, the light off his glasses dim enough to properly show his eyes. Specifically, his alexandrite glass eye that has two pupils in it as opposed to one like a normal eye that it seems he's been wearing this whole time, though it's hard to tell if Danny knows this or not.]
And besides, I never said that my reasons for being involved in this business were noble ones. Judging people for their sins was more the Reverend and Cathy's thing than mine, where as my interests were... elsewhere.
[He says, with a side glance towards the back room at the right of here, where his collection of eyes is being kept.]
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[Can he see the eye collection from here? No, but he doesn't need to to know exactly what Danny's looking at in this dream.]
If you ever try to cure yourself of the habit and find healthier ways of indulging yourself, I will of course be supportive of you.
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And what if I chose not to?
[Now his tone is a little more challenging, smile less pleasant.]
What if I decided I wanted to kill someone here in this world? Regardless of whether or not they attacked me first or did anything to truly deserve it.
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[Don't track viscera into their bed.]
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Then... what if I decide one day to start a new collection, starting with taking your eyes for myself.
[He says, with a slight flourish of hand movement here. One moment it's empty, the next he's holding a sharp scalpel retrieved from his labcoat, pointed toward Grimm's face from where he's sitting.]
I wouldn't kill you of course, since even I know I'm incapable of succeeding in that regard. Not when your death is already predetermined by that "Ritual" of yours. But, I don't recall if you ever said that it could save you from being blinded before then...
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[And yet Grimm seems more amused by the threat than anything else. He doesn't bother to vanish that scalpel, even though he easily could.]
But I must warn you that if you wish to dance with me, then I will not hold back.
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"Dance", huh... come to think of it, we've never really done that before, have we?
[Both the kind Grimm means, and the traditional sense of the word, really.]
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