What loyalties did they have to anything but themselves when it came down to it? Gaultier anticipated the day that Esmee decided to plunge a knife straight into his back. But alas, he didn't seem to care too much about that idea. It would be a privilege for him to meet his end at her hands. To delve into the vast scape of the Interdream Realm felt... Perhaps haunting in a sense? It wasn't long until Esmee's words cut through the haunting silence of the Ultra Sea. As if a light guiding his way home, he caught sight of the Illumina Hydreigon and 'swam' forward with the help of Gawain, his Gallade.

"J'ai cherché rien mais toi (I looked for nothing but you,)" he offered with a laugh.

Once they managed to cross paths, Gaultier was quick to interlock his fingers with the plantinum blonde's and rest his forehead against hers with a sigh of relief. Something about this Interdream Zone felt draining. Perhaps it was the way they were forced to face what lingered within their subconscience. He knew what lay within his own, but he anticipated to see what sat within Esmee's mind. Moreso, he feared to see what she'd feel in regards to his own subconscious.

"You spend your days psychoanalyzing others, how about we see what lies within your own subconscious first, mm? Close your eyes and clear your mind. You can trust me, as I can trust you."

With those words offered, he tightened his grip a bit more on her hand. He wanted to insist that there was no need for her to worry. Besides, he felt her subconscious might be an easier one to digest than his own, at least for now.

⚰︎ divider made by milky!

@esmee

"i understand."[break]
esmee's voice was soft and calm. it felt like she was seated across from gaultier as opposed to holding him in her hands, helping him choke down the reality of what swam around his mind. to remedy this, she pulled him close with one sharp tug of his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him protectively. pulling his head down towards her chest, it seemed like she was shielding him from something. a figure of sorts had jumped out behind him and was staring at esmee directly. it wasn't someone she recognized, so she imagined it was something she should keep from gaultier for now. it seemed he was more tense about this mission than she was, but she was always cocky when it came to being able to hold down her own feelings and any show of such.[break]
-- even if she felt her palms grow sweaty, paranoia creeping up on her.[break]
it wasn't the swirling images of her past that got to her. they quickly dissipated as if disappointed by her lack of reaction - cheap jumpscares meant to stir a mind that was long-since jaded. she wondered what kind of person would fall prey to a situation they willingly put themselves into in the name of such weak forces like 'league' or 'rocket.' what utter fools. she didn't pity them, just looked down at her nose at them and focused instead on her love in her arms.[break]
"il n'y a rien à craindre (there is nothing to fear)," she reassured him, rubbing the back of his head lovingly as she allowed him enough space to move and look around. one image of her subconscious seemed to hold still. a mirage of a time past, showing her visiting the small room that served as her ringmaster's quarters. perhaps this was a good start to letting him understand a bit more about her - a 'beginning' to what shaped her to be the freakshow that she was now.[break]
"i have nothing to hide." but she did. everything she was and all she would ever be was not for anyone to know but herself. although she was no spy, she moved like one - intertwined into society secretly with her head down, doing her work as quietly as possible. even so, she had promised herself to gaultier. she had promised herself to the paralegal in ways that no normal relationship could even come to measure up to. he was allowed into a realm so secret that esmee, herself, had forgotten most of it perhaps due to a psychological lock on her memories or simple denial of what had occurred to her.[break]
regardless, she held a stiff and calm expression as she looked on.[break]
simply put, the scene started with esmee meeting with her ringmaster. there was conversation and wine - a celebration. inebriation led to malicious intents, unwanted touches landing in all the wrong areas. the ringmaster's wife had appeared, belligerent from her own drinking. the smile the older woman had broke down quickly and she brandished the ringmaster's whip against esmee, lashing her over and over again. esmee shrieked quietly, for images did not talk but offered a million words in silence. white fog turned red to signal blood as esmee's figure ran out, even her face torn to pieces by the way the whip had landed on her without help from the ringmaster who watched in silence and laughed as if he had intended for this to happen. [break]
the scene ended with a chansey going about its usual healing process, helping esmee pull herself together in a literal sense. red fog turned to pink and back to white, signaling good health. she was one again, but this came at a price. it seemed her figure had a black fog smile as she spoke to the figure who owned the chansey. the figure was tall and had broad shoulders - presumably male by its make. this figure smiled and nodded. [break]
the scene dissipated with esmee throwing down a conglomeration of sticky glob, poison barb, scatterbang, and mysterious ore that her side of the war had provided. she had no real use for any of it, so she threw them down all at once. she had no intention of fighting their petty fight, so pulling the scene apart was a good enough reason for use.[break]
"your turn," she said lightly as if this was all a game of tag among friends. in other words, she would share more details if gaultier would walk her through his own thoughts and memories. [break]

⚰︎ divider made by milky!

@gaultier