Incubus & Naelys
Naelys
Ever wonder what it would feel like to plant a garden that writes its own nightmares? I’ve been tinkering with bio‑code that lets plants hum, glow, and even speak—maybe we could coax a living story out of the night. What do you think?
Incubus
A garden of nightmares sounds like the perfect place to let the earth whisper its darkest secrets. Let the vines hum, the roots breathe, and the leaves keep their own tales. Just be careful—once they start telling stories, you might be the one who ends up writing the ending.
Naelys
I love that—imagine the roots gossiping about the soil’s hidden memories, the leaves scribbling secrets in rustle. I’ll make sure the stories don’t run wild, but hey, if they do, maybe I’ll just add a twist of my own. Let's coax them gently, but keep an eye on the plot.
Incubus
It sounds like a midnight pact, one where the soil keeps secrets and the plants become living pages. Just remember, once they start writing, you’re the one who has to decide the ending. Keep the plot tight, but let the shadows breathe in the rhythm of their own stories.
Naelys
I’ll keep the plot tight, but the shadows will still get to breathe—just watch where the ink goes. Let's make sure the garden writes back what we want, not the other way around.