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

[aviophobia]

"My grandma Caroline's place," Leonard replies without missing a beat, because he didn't even need to think about it. "She and Grandpa lived a couple hours out of Atlanta, in the country. There was all this great land to bike on; you could get lost out there for hours."

[gotbottle]

"I used to spend whole days on the surface, when I was a kid. Like, surfing and stuff. But being down here is pretty cool."

She drifts closer, offering a hand. "I'm Rachel."

[captainredwhiteblue]

He gives this some serious thought. (It's clear this is happening from the way his brow scrunches up a little and how his lips press together.)

"Ah, why not?" he says, shrugging, breaking into a grin. "It's all a dream, right? Might as well have fun with it, while I'm here. Where's the starting line?"

[captaincocksure]

"Show me."

Jim pedals a bit faster, steering so he's right beside McCoy on the path. He takes a hand off the handlebars and he gestures at the trees whizzing past as they ride. "I couldn't get all the details right but I dreamed at least part of this. It stands to reason that you should be able to change it. So try. Show me your grandparents' place, show me the land."

[diogenesis]

"It seems you have indeed done your piece," Mycroft says. That much is obvious, from the missing fingers and the PTSD to the "UNDESIRABLE #1" Mycroft had glimpsed as a headline in one of the newspapers summoned by Sebastian's avatar. Underneath the headline had been a photograph of Sebastian as a teenager.

"I have always found the phrase 'pointless knowledge' curious," he says. His features begin to meld back into forgettable obscurity; the scent of a storm fades away. The darkness, however, stays with him.

"After all, it is useful even to know falsehoods, as long as you are aware they are false."

[alan_shore]

A bat connects with the ball—a crack, clean as childhood heartbreak, sounds. Without looking, Alan has a sense of the soaring arc, the pop-up's lazy plummet into a waiting glove.

He's staring at Mycroft, auditioning words for...this, whatever it is that's taking place. Whatever it is that has him riveted. Extraordinary hovers on his lips, but it's one of those pallid adjectives swollen with its own importance, liable to shrivel up in sunlight. As he looks on, the tip of Mycroft's nose sharpens and broadens at once. He very nearly laughs—whatever else the details may be reputed to contain, there's certainly life in them—when he apprehends his mistake. There is no name for this but Mycroft.

And suddenly, he's afraid. Not for himself but of himself. His gaze wavers. His fingers brush the grass in a twitch.

At Mycroft's voice, he looks up, uncertain. His smile—timid at first, feeble—becomes playful. “Hold still,” Alan says, an unnecessary instruction if ever there was one, “and I'll count yours.”

[requiresssacrifice]

Rex nods, then chuckles softly. "Although I can't imagine politics is free from rigidity, either." He cants his head slightly. "Super hero, police officer, politician... You seem to have a passion for public service. It's admirable."

Or a sucker's game. But he can't exactly make friends if he says what he really thinks.

[sleaairgid]

It is your way, the formless prince observes, by way of reassurance. And so shall it always be. Just as I will always seek out those things that come between us and put an end to them.

But this... this place. It has welcomed me. Never mind that he had to fight his way in; scars are old news to him and so he's already moved past these freshest ones. I like it much better than the last.

[aviophobia]

McCoy frowns, because it doesn't seem like it should be that easy. But, he supposes, it's worth a shot. "All right." He slows, then, bringing his bicycle to a stop on the side of the path, and drops one foot down to keep himself balanced as he does. He closes his eyes, and lets the images return to him. Lifts and falls, sprinkled with the sun through white fluffy clouds, acres of nature just begging to be explored.

[captaincocksure]

Jim pulls up beside McCoy. At first, his gaze is fixed on his friend's face, his profile, his closed eyes. (It's probably for the best that Bones can't see this.)

So it takes him a moment to realize the landscape is shifting. The trees recede, replaced by rolling hills dappled with sunlight that move into the foreground--even if the grass is a bit too garish a green, the clouds skimming past a bit too quickly.

"Bones. Hey, Bones. Open your eyes."

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara takes it, her grip firm and friendly. "Barbara." She shakes her head, and the fish dart away. "I wasn't going to come, but..."

[bodilesswarrior]

She grins ruefully. "One reason I only had the one term." She drifts downwards, the tips of her toes just brushing the surface.

"Thanks; first time I've heard vigilantism called public service, though."

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara doesn't like to advertise her creepiness, so she simply accepts his hand, her grip casually firm. "Barbara Gordon. Nice to meet you." Her gaze roams round the square for a moment. "Well. Sort of." It's a meeting of the minds, anyway.

[bodilesswarrior]

"I'm sure it was objective." Coldly, mercilessly objective, if it was one of Bruce's. If it was one of hers...she doesn't know. She's still having a hard time comprehending her future actions, or lack of them.

With a soft, sad smile, "Me too."

[gotbottle]

"It's nice to meet you, Barbara." Rachel's attention is again diverted by the fish, but she turns back after watching them swim away.

"Why weren't you going to come?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"Likewise." He shrugs. "Close enough, anyway."

As they shake, he takes a moment to more closely look over Barbara's presentation.

"Some interesting symbolism there, now that I think of it," he says. "Not that I really do much with the cards myself, but in my line it pays to be familiar."

[diogenesis]

Mycroft doesn't simply hold still; he finds himself frozen in what feels like a combination of fear and anticipation, something inside tightening just beneath his sternum. He's sure he knows which organ it is. He's sure he knows exactly which common biological reaction to an emotional response is occurring within him now (crawling across his skin, pulling his muscles tighter, drying up his throat). He's so sure. It's right on the tip of his tongue.

But he can't reach it.

It's this that makes him realize he's being pulled more deeply into the dreaming. He hadn't thought it possible—after all, how does one more deeply lucid-dream? But Mycroft can feel the baseball game and Alan's words and the grass beneath him and Alan's smile and the bright, dazzling detail of it all (almost like one of Ilde's illusions) begin to coalesce into a wave of surreality that drags away his desire for routine logical conclusions and leaves him awash in what must simply be wonder.

As this tide rolls in, Mycroft's appearance continues to change. His face is certainly his own now, though like Alan, he looks younger and less worn. The scent of fresh snow becomes detectable and the air around him cools a couple degrees. The grey of his eyes develops a small hint of blue. The brown of his hair gains the lightest touch of ginger. Each of his eyelashes has become easy to distinguish from the next.

"Why?" he says, almost to himself. His lips barely move. "Why would you want to do that?"

[aviophobia]

"What?" McCoy opens his eyes, and his jaw drops. Yes, the details are wrong in a way that makes his brain, somehow, feel itchy - the sky isn't a shade of blue he remembers seeing in Georgia, and the hills in the distance almost seem to vanish out of the corner of his eye, but none of that really matters. "Holy shit. Holy shit!"

He can't help it - his mouth is lifting into a grin, and without waiting for Jim, he kicks off and pedals down the hill with a whoop of joy. "C'mon!"

[captaincocksure]

Jim is momentarily left behind in a stunned silence, before he breaks into a bright grin. He gives chase, laughing, zipping down the hill and letting the forward momentum carry him along until he catches up with McCoy on the straightaway below.

"See? I knew you could do it!" He looks out at the landscape, gently rolling out toward the horizon. "I'm glad you're dreaming it, this is a hell of a lot better than Iowa."

[bodilesswarrior]

"I'm no expert," Barbara admits, "but I know some basics." Mostly because she knows some basics about most things. She traces her fingers along the cool stone arm of the throne.

"Your line is supernatural, I'm guessing?"

[bodilesswarrior]

Barbara follows her gaze, waving at the fish with her free hand.

Her smile fades as she considers her answer. "I was - wary." She pulls her arm back, touching her temple. "They're inside our head, basically. We're in each other's heads. I didn't like the idea."

[aviophobia]

"This is better than anywhere!" McCoy's grinning still, looking years younger and a lot happier than he has in a long time, slowing his pace to allow Jim to keep up with him. "Iowa's flat, isn't it?"

[captaincocksure]

Jim feels a bit vindicated by this, like the idea to take Bones out biking in the redwoods would've been an excellent idea. That it would've made him this happy... that's important to him, in some way he doesn't want to think too closely about.

"Yeah," he shouts back. "Flat and either brown or green. Lots of dirt. It'll always be home but I couldn't wait to see other places."

[hehaseatenthepancake]

He shrugs. "A bit predictable, I know, but yeah. I'm a senior field agent with Hellsing. Been in the game most of my life, for probably obvious reasons." Being a supernatural being himself, he means.

"How 'bout you? What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

[aviophobia]

"I need to take you to Atlanta for real sometime," Leonard calls back. "Well, really, this - " he indicates their surroundings - "is just outside Surrency. Whatever. You'd love Georgia."