[b][center][h3][color=92278f]Bonesword[/color][/h3][/center][/b]
The skeletal swordsman had finally returned to his home near Hyperion, running into the small little hovel and slamming the door shut, locking it afterwards. Once he was safely inside his house, he walked over to the cabinet where he kept all of his alcohol and started to drink as heavily as he could. He kept pouring bottle after bottle of booze and cheap wine in his mouth, amounting to nothing more than a large bronze colored puddle on the ground below him, soaking the bottom of his boots and just making him more depressed. The other resident of the home, Stumpy the Stump (who had been absent because he was buying booze for Bonesword's drinking problem), walked up to the skeleton's knees and bumped into them gently. The skeleton, in a state of emotional depression, instinctively hugged the stump and began to... 'cry'. He was all he had left at the time, and even though Stumpy was made on a whim by the skeleton needing a servant, he grew ever compassionate for him.

After a while of crying, the skeleton began to look around his grassy and wooden home, and he saw the door that he had locked for the longest time. Where Charlie was raised, and where his only memories of Abigail and him sat. Bonesword stood up from hugging the stump and began to walk towards the door, with Stumpy following in close proximity. With no hesitation, the skeleton opened the locked door with the nearby key and he walked in. The room was quite large, with a large patch of soil around the middle, a ceramic square surrounding it, and a garage door on the other side. To the side of the room, several broken picture frames stood, each one containing a picture of Abigail and the swordsman, and a few of those pictures with a small green snake in them. Stumpy ran over to the soil and began to sit in it, making a few odd noises which called for Bonesword's attention. Watching the small little stump roll around in the soil... it made the skeleton feel... happy. Something he hasn't felt in a while. 

The skeleton walked over to Stumpy and laid beside him, staring towards the ceiling. He wasn't thinking or anything like that, he was just... doing nothing. He didn't care to do anything right now. He just wanted to take a bit and relax.

[hr][i][color=8dc73f][center][h3]Abigail[/h3][/center][/color][/i]
Abigail had never died in the Nexus before, and she dreaded what would happen when she fell into her slumber before her respawn. When she saw what her dreams entailed, she was horrified beyond any reasonable measure. 

Harpies. Hundreds of them. Dead and mutilated. They were scattered among a burning forest, no doubt caused by her ex. The sight was an unbearable one, as blood laid strewn about in the charred grass, she could see only one harpy alive. The male of their generation, running through the forest in his nudity, which was something the specter wished she could unsee. She saw him stop in the forest, stand for a few seconds, and then the faint noise of someone yelling profanity rang out in the dream as the sight cut to black.

Abigail jettisoned up from her sleeping position, breathing heavily and placing her hands onto her head in disbelief. What the hell was that dream? She didn't even know any of the harpies in the first place, so why would she dream of such a scene. She rose up from her mattress and walked around the room, trying to piece together what in the fuck happened. In any case, she felt like her mind had an incredible amount of power within it, just waiting to be channeled by her. A quick raise of her hand showed that a large clump of a Dreambolt was sitting in the palm of her hand, and then the pieces started to click into shape. Did she see the dream of someone else...?

In any case, this Dreambolt was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

[hr][center][color=00a651][h3][u]FROG[/u][/h3]
[u]"Oh no."[/u][/color][/center]
[@TheWindel][@The 42nd Gecko]