"Well," you say, sitting up slowly so as not to aggravate your sore everything, "I got the shit kicked outta me, but that's only the second time I've managed ta kill a pagan god. Pretty good on the balance."
You don't talk about the Nashville Incident. And you thought Andrew Jackson was a bastard before he died...
"It has been eventful, then?"
"You could say that," you reply as she helps you up. The Dream is as static as ever, though its serenity is quite welcome after your exciting recent ventures. You stumble for a moment, but the Doll helps you retain your footing. Despite the place's cleansing effects, you're still bone-tired and you still ache.
"What manner of beast did you slay, Hunter Anderson?" she asks, oozing curiosity.
"Some kinda giant demon with eight arms. It-"
You pause as your knees begin to rattle. You're still not steady on your feet.
"Sorry, still a bit out of it. Jus' need a moment."
The Doll turns and pats the stone railing behind her. "Then sit. Take the time you need and tell me of your travels."
You nod and slouch your way over, plopping down in a terribly undignified manner. The Doll sits beside you, polite as ever with her hands on her lap, and listens to your story.
With nothing moving, it's impossible to tell how long you sit there, speaking of the men and women and monsters you've encountered since your last meeting. Perhaps it doesn't make a difference that nothing is moving; it is a Dream, after all.
It's pleasant. That's a good word for it. Obviously, you enjoy the wanton slaughter of the profane as much as the next proper Catholic, but it's nice to be away, to not have that chain you so gladly carry dragging you ever forward.
"Don't get me wrong, it was a proper donnybrook while it lasted, but I can't help but feel a little let down, y'know? Didn't even have to exorcise its unquiet spirit, let alone pry loose its squamous talon-grip on our reality. Jus' stabbed it a bunch and blew up its face and down it went. I'm startin' ta think that thing was just a jumped-up giant invisible spider. "
"You desired a more dramatic conclusion?"
"Right, somethin' with a bit o'...gravitas, I s'ppose? I guess I can't really complain too much, though. If they all go down that easy, I might have this whole mess wrapped up by mornin'."
You are fully aware that you're basically putting your balls on a chopping block, handing the universe a meat tenderizer, and telling it to go nuts with that statement, but if the universe can't handle a bit of trash talk, that's its problem.
"But enough about me," you say, shifting your body to better face the Doll. "Have ye found a name ye like?"
"Well," she replies, "my role is to aid the Hunters who pass through this Dream in any way I can. There is one thing they have all needed, however, that I was never able to offer. Gehrman needs it as well, though he does not show it."
"And what's that?"
"Hope," she smiles. "This way, you can never say there is no hope so long as I am here."
Well, you suppose that works.
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