[ It's already been a day of impossibly strange happenings. Throwing the viability of his research in his old professor's face, the sky above Tokyo turning blood red, the voice in his head from years ago manifesting itself before him and showing him all at once how simple it could be.

Azathoth, he knows the name now. He sways with the motion of the subway car on his way to Odaiba, closes his eyes and lets it echo throughout his mind. Azathoth.

Like a meditation, or an incantation, or simply the understandable end result of a frenetic day– month– half a year– he lets it soothe him into relaxing back into his seat for a quick doze. He has been so tired, for so long, and there will be no time for rest in the coming days.

And then– an owl, a wish, a garden.

A contract.

He blinks up at the hazy sun. ]

Azathoth?

[ Nothing. Not even an inkling in the back of his head.

The potion in the satchel goes ignored, the parchment folded and tucked into the pocket of his trousers. Given everything else that's gone on today alone, everything he knows of the possibilities of the cognitive world, it seems likely that he's been transported within it. It's beautiful. He knew it would be.

Maruki only makes it a few yards away from his ungainly landing place before his foot catches on a well-hidden gnarled mass of roots, and he tumbles ass over teakettle, sprawling back on the ground with a yelp. Alright, so he's no more coordinated here than he was in reality.

Surrounded on all sides by stalks of flowers in brilliant hues of blue and purple, he can take a second to appreciate the beauty of this place. A wildflower field, a promise to return. Perhaps it's his own cognitive world.

His eyes are growing heavy again. Well, it really has been a hell of a day. Maybe he could stand to doze a bit longer. ]

[ Alright, it's sort of his own fault, he can recognize that – but the bone-deep strangeness of sustained, repeated deja vu has him in a bit of a panic, so on his third walk down this particular street that he somehow keeps circling back to instead of ever reaching his destination, he breaks into a darting zigzag of a run–

Right into a goblin who's clearly having as bad of a day as he is.

Before he knows it, the goblin has yanked a rather large trowel out of a flowerbed along the side of the street and is advancing on him with clear intent. ]

Hey, whoa– sir, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, there's no need to– ah!

[ He is no good in a fight, offensively or defensively. He barely dodges out of the way of an attempt at a stab and tries to take cover behind an uncaring merchant's cart. ]

What on earth– somebody help!

[ My god he is sleepy lately. Is this what he gets for running himself ragged with his work for far too many years?

If you visit Maruki's dream, you'll find yourself in a warmly lit office, long shadows cast from a sun beginning its descent. Two small sofas perpendicular to one another with a low table between. A couple snacks and beverages laid out for the taking if you'd like. Bookshelves lining one wall, the words on the spines unfamiliar and ever-shifting, for that fun and frustrating sensation of being unable to read in your dreams.

His back is to the door as you enter, focused on a clipboard in hand, but when your presence makes itself known he'll turn toward you – floppy mess of hair, overworked stubble, thick glasses – and greet you with a kind smile and soft voice. ]

Welcome in. It's almost the end of the day, but I have time for another appointment. Have a seat.

[ oh my god. Dude can't get enough of counseling so much so that he dreams about getting to do it? Hugely embarrassing behavior. ]

[ i am down for quite literally anything! if you have another idea, feel free to message me at mackleberry or just throw it up here with no preamble, i'm game! ]