There's a look of contentment trapped on Frank's broad face, eyes half-lidded as he goes through the calming tasks of his day-to-day life in Reims. He would be wrapping up his work on the sand-paths about this time, heading to his treehouse to get some rest. Max and himself would sleep that way, curled up, until his nightmares started to rouse him. And then the dog would nudge him awake just in time to patrol the area surrounding the town. With nothing but a knife and an eerily quiet pitbull to defend him against any number of horrors, Frank would take to the newly filled in paths and begin his rounds. Sometimes he'd cross paths with Bethany or Buffy, or sometimes even Jessica, though the latter would be harder to convince to stick together. Sometimes they would, meandering along in silence, and they both knew that Frank was safer with her as a partner than any other protection he could conjure up.
Things would go on that way, sometimes chatting over devices and other times just walking and watching each other, and the dark, silent world around them. It should be creepy, but it isn't. It's become a home of sorts, a safe space carved out in a land of horrors. At Bucky's approach, the landscape shifts, however, and red dust starts blowing through the air. He turns, but Max and Jessica are gone. Frank tastes copper in his throat, that awful itchy feeling of it coating his eyes; but when he tries to raise a hand to wipe it away from his face the vines constrict and he lets out a gasp in distress. The monsters are circling in, though he can't see them, no one ever could until it was too late.
Whatever sound he makes in the dream is enough to get one's attention and it would seem his good luck streak has run out. There's still a bizarre, pleasant haziness to the scene as Frank's mind is influenced by the clematis vines coiling around his body, but it isn't enough to shake the nightmare scene his mind is now running with, the Sound Eater knocking him to the sand and looming over him as younger monsters move in as well. There's no escape. Reset Room, here he comes.
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Things would go on that way, sometimes chatting over devices and other times just walking and watching each other, and the dark, silent world around them. It should be creepy, but it isn't. It's become a home of sorts, a safe space carved out in a land of horrors. At Bucky's approach, the landscape shifts, however, and red dust starts blowing through the air. He turns, but Max and Jessica are gone. Frank tastes copper in his throat, that awful itchy feeling of it coating his eyes; but when he tries to raise a hand to wipe it away from his face the vines constrict and he lets out a gasp in distress. The monsters are circling in, though he can't see them, no one ever could until it was too late.
Whatever sound he makes in the dream is enough to get one's attention and it would seem his good luck streak has run out. There's still a bizarre, pleasant haziness to the scene as Frank's mind is influenced by the clematis vines coiling around his body, but it isn't enough to shake the nightmare scene his mind is now running with, the Sound Eater knocking him to the sand and looming over him as younger monsters move in as well. There's no escape. Reset Room, here he comes.