Changed Mods (
yourkeepers) wrote in
thechanged2013-09-09 01:01 pm
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SLEEPING BEAUTIES: DREAM LOG
Bewitched by the thorn's touch, you have been ensnared in the deepest of sleep. Fortunately for you, the world of Faerie doesn't end with the waking.
The world of your dreams is brighter now, more clear than you've ever witnessed it. You've been it before, you think, there fragments of yourself become reality. But now you are somehow more lucid in its presence, and it's more real - something you can reach out and touch.
You find yourself in this world, and you are not alone. Your dreams and those of other join at the edges, pulling into each other along similar threads.
And you are watched by something even greater.
The world of your dreams is brighter now, more clear than you've ever witnessed it. You've been it before, you think, there fragments of yourself become reality. But now you are somehow more lucid in its presence, and it's more real - something you can reach out and touch.
You find yourself in this world, and you are not alone. Your dreams and those of other join at the edges, pulling into each other along similar threads.
And you are watched by something even greater.
no subject
"No, I don't. I wonder who he is." He didn't look like a possession. Maybe a servant, but those were beautiful, fair...this man just looks ordinary. He looks to her, a questioning look on his face.
"What's the device?"
no subject
"Looks like the folk I fought with." And that, would seem to indicate he's only a memory, albeit one that means nothing to her. He's just a body in a box with a recording device that makes frightening sounds. She holds that device up now, examining it. She rewinds it, then hits play. There's the shuffling of feet, then the shriek of a woman, loud and piercing. It chills her for some reason she can't explain, and she stops the recorder before offering it to Specs. "Don't think he's real. Or this."
no subject
Of course. This is a dream, but more specifically, her dream. This is all meaningless to him, but to her...well, it might hold some significance. He recalls his own dream, how familiar it was and how he had not a single idea why. That's what she must be going through, now.
Still, it makes little sense to put such a thing with a dead man...what purpose would it have served?
"Well, this is a dream." A pause as he pushes up his glasses with a finger. "But I can't help thinking...was this meant to be some sort of diversion? A distraction, of some sort."
no subject
"They're comin', ma'am," he says, and her hackles rise.
"Who?"
He seems to want to answer, but his lips can't form the words. It probably doesn't help when a knife buries itself in his neck a moment later. The very dead man fall back in his box as Brimstone turns toward the entrance, gaze flicking to Specs just long enough to ensure he hasn't been attacked. The knife-wielder is already on the move again. Their feet are pounding the metal corridors.
"C'mon," she says, hurrying to the entrance.