birds singing in the sycamore tree

[baedalites]

As night falls on Baedal, the city is almost quiet. The streets have a few last minute workers returning home, but by now, most citizens have already gone by the temples and picked up their vurt, ready to lay down and dream.

After placing a not-feather in one's mouth, there's a moment where it fizzes against the tongue before sliding coolly down the back of the throat and pulling the user down into sleep. A series of impressions, more sensation than anything concrete, appears before the user and this is how one chooses which Dreamer to enter.

Comments

[apotropaic]

Philomena, at least, has had some experience with this sort of thing. Dream-walking wasn't something she'd done much of, but her family had taken the time to show her what was what. Combined with her more natural talent of illusion casting --well. She was quite happy to mold and play with the reality around her.

When Steph floats over, she looks up and shoots her own, friendly smile right back at her. "Thanks! Although they're not really mine, you know," and she trails a finger over her handiwork. "They belong to everyone."

Which gives her the idea to ask, "Want me to make you something?"

[controlledvariable]

"That sounds like it should be in a fortunte cookie," Though the stars belong to everyone is probably a little too deep for even the most ridiculous of fortunte cookies.

The question makes her light up, she's usually pretty free with her emotions and expressions, but being in a dream makes everything a little crisper, "I'd love that."

She drops easily, to sit cross legged in front of Philomena, "I'm Steph, by the way," She's also getting better at remembering to do introductions earlier in conversations. Probably because she's had to do it so many times in Baedal.

[apotropaic]

"Well, I am wise, all-knowing and crispy-sweet on the outside," she says, with utmost seriousness (no, not really).

"Philomena," she replies, as way of introduction and quickly begins to set about her task. "I came to the city, mm, a couple of weeks ago." There's a little shrug to accompany it, a 'what are you going to do about it' gesture.

"This place is cool, though. I could stay here forever." And she sits back with a little contented smile for a moment, looking at the surrounding cosmos.

[controlledvariable]

"Do you have lottery numbers written down your back, too?" As all good fortune cookies should, obviously.

Her face scrunches up a little in wry sympathy, 'what are you going to do about it' indeed, still, "Sorry about the kidnapping. You're probably in my cohort, I've only been here a few months." It's a little worry that it's only a few months, and that she's stopped expecting a sudden return home (she still will go home, she knows that, just not... any time soon).

"I probably wouldn't stay forever, but it is pretty," and it makes her jealous of the people back home who can just do this. Her friends who can fly up into the stars without a second thought. Admittedly, they can't make dresses or wreaths out of said stars, but it's better than being stuck on the ground.

[apotropaic]

"Nope, but sometimes I give out--" a gasp, "--double fortunes!"

Another shrug, then back to work. But not before she plucks a nearby shining jewel, examining it for flaws. This one is apparently worthy, and gets weaved in to the ongoing creation. "It's cool. People have been pretty nice so far. I got a job working in a candy store until I can get things up and running, so at least there's some money rolling in."

"This is what I normally do, though --not with stars obviously, although it's a nice idea." She wonders if she'll remember it when she wakes up. Hopefully. "I had my own little business making jewellery and accessories. I've missed it since coming here. I think that's why I like sitting here most of all."

[aviophobia]

"We don't have forests like this in Georgia," McCoy returns, though he's clearly more than a little wonderstruck by their surroundings. Lifting a hand, he points at one of the tall trees. "F'r instance, our leaves are leaves, not hummingbirds." He stands on the pedals, briefly, getting a better look, then sits back down. "What did you want to do that this reminds you of?"

[selfmadman]

It's emptiness that tugs at him, an impression of potential. The blank page, the map's edge. He doesn't expect the stars.

The man who stands barefoot on the floor--glass, like the lens of a giant telescope--and gapes at the cosmos enfolding him has the bearing of an adolescent who hasn't grown into himself. He wears cast-off clothes: clean but coarse. Clothes whose wearer might stop mid-sentence to spit.

He stays until he doesn't, drifting from the floor and into brilliant darkness.

[thedominatrix]

Whereas Irene is in a gown of black lace and nothing else, and something about her glows. She's aware of what she's doing, finding she's able to manipulate the wild and glittering darkness. It's a matter of creativity, of feeling, of artistry; a matter of knowing your own mind and everybody else's.

Or maybe it's just a matter of really wanting it, and she really wanted to wear stars- as earrings, in a glowing string around her neck, glittering at her fingers.

She does-and-doesn't recognise Dom at first; it's funny, she's got this real life image of him in her head which doesn't match up to how he looks here- and then there's the dream-knowledge, the way you just know.

She comes up behind him, finding it easier to walk if she steps from star to star because drifting isn't her thing.

"Try falling," is the first thing she calls, and then--

"Funny. No one says 'hello' in dreams, do they?"

[gotbottle]

The movement catches her eye, and Rachel floats, too, waving back. Her upstretched hand brushes against a large, blue fish, and she laughs, glancing up before gazing again at the other woman in the water.

"Hi! Isn't this great? I think it's the best thing I've ever experienced."

[controlledvariable]

Steph echoes the gasp with her own, pressing a hand to her chest in mock surprise for a second before she laughs.

"Sometimes I forget Baedal has normal things like candy stores," It sounds like the kind of job that would be fun at first but get boring fast, she doesn't say that bit, though, just keeps watching Philomena work.

"That sounds cool," Steph has never been particularly inclined towards jewellery - it gets in the way if she ends up in a fight - but she can appreciate the skill that must go into making it, "Are you planning to start doing the same thing here?"

[captainredwhiteblue]

"No, it was always school. I'd show up naked and not prepared to give a presentation."

He says this in all seriousness as he looks out over the crowd. "It was a classroom, not a stadium fulla people. The paint's new, too."

[aldabeyoun]

"There's a steeplechase here and everyone is going to be naked. If you don't wanna run, you don't have to," she says putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to reassure him. "If you need to wake up, you can do that too. If you think you can fit into my pants through crazy-dream logic, I'll shift and they're all yours."

"And, if you want to run, I know you'll leave 'em all in the dust."

[captaincocksure]

"Did you ever see the redwoods, north of the Academy?" They hadn't had forests like that in Iowa, all the land cleared centuries ago for agriculture. He'd been so enthralled with those ancient trees.

"I remembered you talking about how much you missed riding your bike. I was gonna try to arrange a trip for us--camping, bike riding, all that. After graduation. We just didn't get the chance. I really wanted to take you out, though."

[selfmadman]

He spins toward her voice, flips over and around as if top-heavy, as if prodded by the flick of an unseen finger. He'd move with aching slowness if 'aching' and 'slow' had meaning.

A blink after laying eyes on her and he's decked in black: suit, tie, shoes with a shine outstripped by starlight. The only colors swirl at each wrist, nebulae cufflinks in blue, red, an indigo deep and dark.

"Hello," Don says. His features have lost definition, rendering his face familiar, forgettably handsome.

[aviophobia]

McCoy nods, unexpectedly touched at Jim's thoughtfulness. He knows, academically, that Jim does think of other people - usually thinks of them more than he thinks of himself, which drives Leonard crazy - but he gives the younger man so much shit for having such a massive ego that sometimes he forgets.

"This works too," he says, looking up and up and up at the trees. "Never been out to the redwoods, though. We oughta go when we're back."

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara grins, nodding as small, vibrant fish swim through the floating waves of her hair.

"It's pretty wonderful, yeah. I always wished I could just stay under water for hours." Well, she could, technically - she's a certified scuba diver, all of that - but this is different.

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara nods, determinedly ignoring the fleeting guilt of her own deceit.

"Better to get out while you can, if it's not what you want." She considers, for a moment; she can at least offer something sincere.

"I know it's not the same, but - that's one reason I forwent police training. Bit too rigid."

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara chuckles, shaking her head. They'd probably have to drag him.

"I'll take the legs if you take the shoulders."

[apotropaic]

"I wouldn't call it normal normal. It has a little art gallery in one of the side rooms and at night they put safety spells on the displays and turn it into a club. Not the biggest place, but kind of bouncing. Howl Barrow, go figure." A neighbourhood that's quickly becoming Philomena's spiritual home. "But I work there during the day, so it's mostly serving people and trying not to munch on everything."

"Mmhmm, soon as possible. Also," and she finishes off the wreath, passing it over to Steph, "try that on for size."

[controlledvariable]

"No fair, I bet he'd try to bite me," It might be a little mean to joke about Jason like that, and Steph does sober up after a moment, looking to Babs. "Do you trust him?"

Steph personally isn't sure and she's never really gotten a chance to talk to Babs about it. She wonders if this would have been left for another time, but she's already asked, it's too late to take it back.

[bodilesswarrior]

She sobers at that, but she looks more thoughtful than anything else; her instinct, her emotional response, is an immediate yes - he's Jason. He was Robin. She owes him that.

But she knows better than to lead with her heart.

"I do so far. He - was honest with me, when we met." When they met again, when he seemed like a different person and yet...wasn't, not at all. "Told me things he didn't have to."

Not everything, she knows that, but enough to let her decide for herself. And she had.

"He's ruthless, and he makes no apologies for it. But sometimes...sometimes you need to be." She'd held back so often, taken the "higher" road (her father's road, that Bat's road) at the slightest opportunity, but she can't afford to do that here.

[controlledvariable]

"Did he tell you he nearly killed Tim?" It comes out harsher than she intends, but it's the one thing that's always there at the back of her mind whenever she looks at Jason. She keeps her gaze steady, though.

"I can understand needing to be ruthless," God knows she can be, but like Babs, she's held herself back for Bruce, for Tim, for Cass, "But I keep thinking... if I'd still been Robin, would he have done to me what he did to Tim?

At that, she looks down, arms wrapped around herself and her outfit changes, the dress shifting to darker colours - a mix of red and green, softening and blurring in a way that could almost be feathers.

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara's eyes widen at the change, and she can't help but smile softly; she doesn't realise that her outfit is changing as well, as if in reaction, colours blending into hues of black and gold.

Her smile fades as she nods. "He did. And I won't ever excuse that. But he did admit - that he was running wild, back then. That he was...raw." She shakes her head. "I won't excuse it. But I understand."

Her fingers tap at her knees. "And honestly - no, I don't think he would have."

[controlledvariable]

"I don't know if I can forget," She sounds sad, regretful, and it's because a part of her wants to forget. She'd looked up to Jason, before he'd returned, back when he was a memorial case in a cave and quiet stories that Dick, Babs or Tim would tell. She'd thought she'd like him.

"I wish I could be so sure," that he wouldn't have done that to her. Did she only escape that because Bruce had already taken Robin from her.

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara reaches out her hand, and only then does she realise her sleeve has changed from blue to gold; she glances down with a fleeting, rueful smile, before placing her hand on Stephanie's.

"I don't expect you to forget, Steph, and it's not our place to forgive." She wishes Tim could, one day, but it's certainly not his obligation. "We...can try accept, though, to move forward with him. It will take time; you need to know him as - someone more than the Red Hood."

Her smile, now, is sad. "It's only easier for me because I already did. I wish - " She closes her eyes, for a moment. "You reminded me of him, in some ways. And I think that's why...he'd have reacted differently."