(Hallucinatouch is a hallucination-causing nightmaren who's shaped like a gastrodon. Yes, she's shaped like a pokemon. Wrenn is third-generation nightmaren who only remains loyal to Wizeman for the sake of his parents' safety and his own. He is nearly completely blind; he can see only motion.
Wrenn: celestriakle. deviantart .com/art/The-Grinning-Blind-Man-208741480
Read and review, please.)
Fwsshhh.
"This isn't going to change my mind, you know," Wrenn said sullenly, sitting on the edge of a Wizehand, as his fine pale hair fell about his face. Wizeman and Hallucinatouch exchanged a glance, his doubtful, hers encouraging. One floating white glove put down Wrenn's hairtie as the other took its brush and gently began smoothing the bristles through the boy's hair. "I don't see why you're even trying," the boy quipped. Still, no reply from the two above him. He huffed, but soon saw the futility of his complaints and gave in to the peaceful rhythm that accompanied each stroke of the brush. He closed his eyes and leaned back on his hands, stretching out his long legs.
Hallucinatouch nudged Wizeman, whispering, "Come onnn. What're you waiting for?"
"Hn?" Wrenn tilted his head, listening, and Wizeman shot H-touch a critical glare.
"Sorry, sorry..." she whispered, her voice even quieter, and ducked behind the piece of shoulder armor she perched upon. But she couldn't stay there for long, and was peeking up over its edge in seconds.
"I hear a voice; who else is up there?" Wrenn demanded.
"No one of consequence," Wizeman answered, and H-Touch looked up at her master with the most heartbroken expression she could muster. Which wasn't a very good one, considering how hard she was trying to not laugh. He gave her a look flatter than paper, and she just waved her nubs in a forward motion, encouraging him to go on, smiling like a nut.
"Hmph..." Wrenn relaxed again, suspicious, but allowing the brush to calm him.
"Do you understand why I have done so much to keep you by my side, Wrenn?"
"No."
"I cannot afford to have a single traitor more free in the Night Dimension; even those who claim neutrality are a threat. Of the higher nightmaren that remain, many of them are useless, weak, failures, but—" He paused, looking over at the gastromaren wiggling excitedly on his shoulder. She stopped, admonished, and gave him an apologetic look, and he continued, "But you are not. You have all of the potential for greatness, and the drive to get there. I cannot afford to allow you leave."
"Mmn..." Wrenn had clenched his hands and eyes, and sat rigidly upon the Wizehand. He wasn't sure quite what to feel. Part of him was furious: This is the excuse you're using to feel better about trapping me here? But another part felt flattered; at least Wizeman wasn't trying to keep him just because he felt like being a dick. The fact that Wizeman saw strength in him made him want to keep training and prove that he was as strong as the Nightmare King believed. But he still wasn't happy about his position. Reaching back, he waved away the brush that was still running through his silky hair and felt around for his hair tie, picking it up and tying back his locks. He stood up and said, "Thanks for explaining. I was owed at least that much." But his expression wasn't as bitter as his tone, and he left without any protests.
Hallucinatouch grinned and nudged Wizeman repeatedly. "See~? I told you it would work." He looked at her, blinked, and she shirked back at his unusually blank expression, the two gloves that had been soothing Wrenn making gestures to soothe Wizeman. "D-did I... !" She went flying forward, into the wall, having been flicked off of his shoulder from behind. He smiled, and returned to
overseeing Nightmare as she groaned, "Ow..."