SLEEPING BEAUTIES: DREAM LOG

[yourkeepers]

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.

Comments

[keepscalm]

He wishes people would stop asking him that bloody question.

The gardener bristles instantly in response, planting his hands firmly on his waist with no small amount of irritation. "Somewhere I'd like to get back to, as it turns out," he returns, pointedly looking away from his conversational partner to survey the surrounding landscape (or perhaps "skyscape" is more appropriate).

He doesn't see any kind of exit and it's impossible to tell where, exactly, he came in from. What a pain.

[fifty]

"This place is great, though," the messenger says, maybe the slightest touch defensively given that it's his place. "But I guess you could just go backwards if you really want to leave."

Or something like that, maybe. He circles around the gardener to try and figure out how he showed up. It doesn't look like there's a door or a rip in the sky or anything like that.

[keepscalm]

"Then you can stay here," insists the groundskeeper with a huff. This place is probably the messenger's dream home, if that reaction is anything to go by. And that's all well and good, but it's just unsettling, in the Darkling's opinion. He glances over his shoulder with a bit of a scoff. "I doubt that simply going backwards will help anything."