<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Grimsolordo</strong></span></div><div align="center">************</div><br/><strong>"I dare call it a blessing," </strong><br/><br/>Grims stood just past the door, watching Death through heavy-lidded eyes. A smile full of sharp teeth split his face,<strong>"And I have not seen her since Helios surfaced this morning. Stick around, though! I have a feeling she won't be long!"</strong>Snickering quietly, the nightmare slid across the floor to take a seat on whatever furniture was at hand, crossing one leg over the other,<strong>"But now I'm so terribly curious, Dresly! What kindof images could she have given you to rouse this murderous intent~?"</strong>The irony of speaking this way to death was not lost on him.<br/><br/>The Nightmare was much more interested in this than the absence of the Dream girl. Well, knowing precisely the selection of things that aroused Death's displeasure. This wasn't exactly a distinction hidden from the public eye.<br/><br/>Though he had noticed a certain lack of weight on his shadow. Grimsolordo never succumbed to sleep if he could help it, for it was a waste of time. Wasting time was one thing he'd never stand for. But a universal time for unconsciousness did leave this one with a massive open spot in which to move. But this morning she had yet to find him. He wondered if this was some strange property of Death's home. The dead rarely dream. It seemed to make sense if he thought in extremes about it. However, past experience would render these to be very fragile expectations.<br/><br/>