The place is homely, with thick woven blankets of different colors tossed over the couch. The paint of the walls in a nice yellow, on the edge of mustard. Not too bright or dull. The smell of fresh chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and bacon drifted through the home. It’s a spacious home, but it looks well worn. There’s little scuff marks here and there. Some tick marks a particular door for checking a child’s height. Miscellaneous toys appear on the furniture and hidden in various nooks and crannies. Little shoes are lined up in certain places, strewn about in others. [break][break]

The smell would lead to a rather night looking kitchen. Decent island, chrome appliances, and one shirtless, blonde casually humming as he flipped another flapjack in his pan with one arm. Andres is only made decent by the half open robe, a pair of pastel striped boxer briefs, and some fuzzy Lopunny slippers. The movement caught his attention and he’s slow to look away from his work, flipping the pancake one last time to check for golden perfection before dropping it with a satisfying slap onto the plate next to him. After, he turned and let out an easy grin. “Morning, darling, honey.” He greeted. “Hope you’re hungry. I made your favorites~”


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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

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Andres blinked slowly, tilting his head before smiling once more as the dream sort of smoother over any wrinkles in his fantasy. “Still groggy, nena? Or are you trying to 50 first Dates me?” he asked with a laugh as he slid the last of the pancakes onto a plate and then carefully places the frying pan and his spatula in the sink to cool off. [break][break]

He set his own plate on the counter, leaning over as he reached over for some whipped cream for himself. Casually pouring syrup on his food he snickered as Melody spoke again. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable in front of the woman I made three children with?” he asked as he began cutting his own pancakes and eating them. Perfectly cooked, perfectly fluffy, and perfectly golden. “I don’t know what kind of joke you’re making, but you’re pretty bad at it. Not super convincing as an amnesiac either.” He added after another mouthful of his breakfast.


[break][break]

+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Andres didn’t seem at all upset by Melody’s reactions. In fact, something in the dream shimmered around his eyes, keeping his attention on his food until Melody was a little more coherent. He looked back up at her, cheeks full of chocolate chip pancakes, a stray bit of chocolate on the corner of his lips. He took a moment to swallow before clearing his throat. “Alright, alright Bonita. I’ll play.” [break][break]

He began slicing his pancakes, dream brain synapses firing as he went through each question in as much detail as he could muster. “Well, you wanted to go somewhere nice, so we went island hopping in Alola. You got annoyed when I suggested we do it behind that one waterfall, I convinced you anyway. Pretty sure that’s where Carla was conceived.” He began tapping his chin and stroking an imaginary beard. “Anyway, he went to a couple of local festivals, tried to conceive another in public, then stuck to visiting beaches and sitting at the resort.” Direct as always. [break][break]

“Papi in law’s name is A̶̢̪̟̜̍͛͠n̶͇̄̀̾͝t̸̢̖̅̌̆̇ͅo̷͚̫͍͝n̷̨̛͙̩͎̈́͛̾i̴̛͇͓̰o̵̪̐̒. You abuelito is J̵̢̜͍̅ű̵̹͓͔̱a̶̜͗͝ň̴͕͑̃͜ ̶̛̳͎͌M̷̡̤̓̎ḯ̴̡r̴̖̂ǫ̶͓͇̾̊̕ͅ and you…chiquilla, you don’t have one~” he said without breaking a sweat. The dream seemed ot shuffle and adjust to his words, imposing phrases on Andres; tongue without him missing a beat. “Why you ask? Wanna recreate our honeymoon while the kids are visiting my parent’s place?” he said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.


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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

His answers don’t seem to earn him anything positive. Even the sudden blush on the woman’s face is nothing next to how she reacted. Quiet, panicked even, pale. Not the happy, glowing visage he imagined. He frowned the memory in his mind’s eyes warping and twisting as he tried to consolidate reality with dream reality. A hidden truth slipped out and Andres blinked quickly, suddenly concerned. His eyebrows knit together as he set his utensils down and slide the plate to the side. “W-Who what condit̴͍̹͇̲̒̇î̴̖̀̽̈́̉o̵͙͍̲̱̪̮̗̲͔͗͌͊͌̄̅͆͂̃͆̊̇̏͝ͅͅͅn̸̡̨̛̛̮̱̼̭͒̾̐͛͌͌̂̊͑̏͐̚͝?” he asked struggling to remember before the dream forcibly implanted more obscure information into his subconscious to calm him. He wasn’t as panicked, but he was still worried. [break][break]

“Oh baby…” he murmured carefully putting a hand her shoulder. “I- Sorry…t-the soiree?” As he said that the memory pushed through that wall of the dream. The carriage rides, bits of his entrance with Artie, calling out to Melody across the ballroom. But as soon as his memories came back so did the natural continuation of that moment. Time with Melody, growing closer, the dates, the blunders, the hospital visits, the work, the trips, the vows. Everything. But it felt surreal. Like, picture perfect, when his life was anything but. “I-…yeah I remember the soiree too but…” he blinked at her, echoing her question. “Cobalion??” he asked as he looked around for the pokemon. “Haven’t….seen him…?”

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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

The fog of the dream is slowly being pulled from his mind, like clearing out cobweb. Its tedious, but gradually there began to appear a bit of clarity in his eyes. With Melody’s persistence, he’d distracted from the fantasy they’d both been sucked into. Her hands ground him further, and his eyebrows knit together as he began to focus and come out of his dream haze. “Right. Right.” Had he seen it? He didn’t think so. He’d woken up and made pancakes. He hadn’t even looked outside their idyllic home. [break][break]

Practically tethered to the pinkette, he followed her looking over her head to see what she saw. The picture perfect, white picket fence neighborhood was distorted. Clouds of purple swirled overhead and he could see some unown moving through at high speeds. “What…the Unfezant fuck…?” he asked his head stinging on the side as he tried to reconcile what he was seeing with his dream. Flashes of the perfect neighborhood attempt to overlay with the danger before them, but its too late. He’s awake now. “Do you see Cobalion, Melody?” the previous familiarity of husband and wife is gone, and what’s left is just Andres. Serious, but alert. He nodded to her, ready to take her lead and stepped down their little home’s porch. Nothing happened. Yet.

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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

“The inter dream zone they said.” Andres replied, though he was entirely unaware of how he knew that. Probably heard it at some point but didn’t quite process it until now. “Weird. It’s…gotta do with all that mist, right?” he added. There’s been the sound of glass shattering and then just clouds and clouds of mist. And then? He didn’t quite remember. He’d woken up and started making a feast of pancakes. He shivered as the voices began, rubbing his arms and turning back to Melody. “C’mon, you said you’re looking for Cobalion?” he said. Though his friend wasn’t listening. Quickly, she began to look more and more distressed before finally. [break][break]

Andres flinched back, looking around wildly for whatever she was seeing. “Melody?!" he cried out as she moved away desperate to stop whatever it was that was happening to her. He dind’t know. The black figures passed by him like shadows they were going for Melody. Could she even see him still? “Hey, wait, it’s not real! Melody!!” he shouted pushing past the shadows and trying to stay near the pinkette. “Can you hear me? Melody? What- What are you talking about?!” he asked. She said something about remembering. That was off-putting, especially when she had made some weird comment about forgetting earlier in the kitchen. And something about a condition? He didn’t know. He hesitated unsure of what to do but ultimately decided maybe he should help her run. [break][break]

He offered her a hand and took her arm to help her to her feet if she let him. “Breath Melody! This is a weird nightmare thing now!” he said trying to be the intelligent, calming presence that he totally wasn’t.


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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt [break][break]

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He has no fucking idea what’s going on, only that Melody’s not alright. He’s never seen her like this. Though, to be fair, he hadn’t seen her like much of anything. They’d barely had a few training sessions, and she’d stood him up for a date. At the time he’d been bummed until he found out weeks afterward, she’d been kidnapped. He hadn’t seen her since, her debut at the Soiree being her big return. Now she was here with him, and he felt like he was witnessing something incredibly intimate, and he had no idea how to handle it? Tough love? Advice? This place isn’t normal. And neither are her reactions. What he saw he had no idea how to describe. It was creepy, scary. The shadowy figures stood ominously, dark will-o-wisps floating off them occasionally. It drive Melody mad. [break][break]

As the darkness tries to pull Melody, he grabbed her, digging fingers into anything he could get ahold of. They couldn’t allow themselves to be separated right now. The music came through, calming the weird darkness that was coming for his friend. It took a second, but it didn’t seem to just work on the creatures. Melody is a smidge more stable. “Yeah, fuck this place.” He said nodding in agreement as he let her go. He looked around nervously. “Where’d that music come from? The nightmare didn’t like it, so we should go towards it.” He stated turning towards the direction her warped music had come from before grabbing her hand and beginning to run. [break][break]

“So, like, you good now? The freakshow really fucked with you, didn’t it?” he asked, checking in again. He didn’t expect much of an answer really but in the span of maybe 20 minutes Melody had acted stranger and stranger. Not how she usually was. He knew her as ditzy, a little oblivious, energetic. He’d seen her scared, panicked, and desperate. He didn’t know her well enough to tell if she’d always been like that or if something had happened to her while she was kidnapped. He didn’t think he could even ask for those specifics anyway.


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+ Melody Miro arthur finnian vanderbilt aa bingo: will-o-wisp [break][break]

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