baedalites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baedalites) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2012-03-31 08:21 pm
baedalites) wrote in multiversallogs2012-03-31 08:21 pm
Entry tags:
- @ ~ dreamscape,
- alexia swiftdawn,
- ava lockhart,
- charles xavier,
- hellboy,
- irene adler,
- james t. kirk,
- jones,
- nuala ní balor,
- rachel conway,
- steve rogers,
- } alan shore,
- } alter ego,
- } astrid farnsworth,
- } barbara gordon,
- } charity burbage,
- } don draper,
- } hermione granger,
- } mycroft holmes,
- } njoki rainmaker,
- } nuada airgetsléa,
- } philomena flores,
- } rex lewis,
- } sebastian lemat,
- } sherlock holmes,
- } stephanie brown
birds singing in the sycamore tree
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.
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.
no subject
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Steph had secretly wanted to high five Jason when she read that in his files. She should go find him tomorow and do that.
"I'm guessing they're still problem in your world?"
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He sighs and mentally tallies up. "Nearly fifty years with the Bureau, give or take, I'd say maybe... a third of my workload involved Nazis in some fashion. I hope my case is relatively rare."
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And that makes her frown, because it's hard to discuss things like this and keep a light mood, "I'm sorry you ave to deal with all that. I'm glad we just have run-of-the-mill supervillains."
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His glee at the concept of superheroes seems to shave some years off of him, some of the crags smoothing out of his appearance and itty bitty horns appearing on his stumps. It's not actually what he looked like when he was younger, so much as a slight melding of his childhood self.
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"We've got more than you can poke a stick at," She sounds more amused than annoyed by that, and she's carefully focusing on her dream-appearance so that nothing shifts unconsciously; she doesn't need a cape or Bat-ears right now, "My dad was a C-grade supervillain, so I've had a little contact with both sides."
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"Oh, that's great. I mean, not about your dad, but the rest of it." He makes a little gesture, and a photograph appears in his hand, then floats up on a breeze to Steph. "The guy in the back called himself the Torch of Liberty. I never knew him by any other name. When I was old enough, he taught me how to fight."
(Also, Steph, enjoy the cuteness of Baby Hellboy.)
no subject
"The Torch of Liberty, huh?" It's pretty standard superhero fare, though at least a little more interesting than Batman, "It's cool that you got to learn from him."
It's tempting to say more about her own experiences and it might be obvious that there's a moment of indecisiveness before she settles on something more harmless, "Were superheroes in your world just regular people with costumes, or did they have powers and stuff?"