"I think this place is taking things from us and using them against us."

A magical mental hideaway where your dreams were reality, and you could make anything appear at the twist of a thought, turn mental fuckery jack-in-the-box, where shit they didn't want was the prize. And there was no saying no because the hand holding your prize had already shoved it into your mouth and down your throat, up to the elbow, before you could even blink.

"Like that smell from your—" There's a tiny pause. "—childhood." It's decisive. No undercurrent of another emotion or twist to the word. It's just an odd correlation in her mouth. It happens and says the other just as blankly. "And this one is mine. Obviously."

Jo rolled her head back up into the wall, running a hand up her face. "That I still haven't actually met for the first time, if we want to fuck that up even more." Because she doesn't meet it until only minutes before everything goes downhill. Who the fuck even knew what was and wasn't off the table if it could use something she didn't even know until arriving here.