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
Barbara sits with a scroll in her hands. She's clothed in pale blue robes, and a horned diadem crowns her head.
Her expression is one of perplexed amusement. "So this was my first thought, huh? I'm kind of full of myself, aren't I."
no subject
Hellboy had initially chosen to avoid anything built-up or overly populated, but his curiosity finally got the better of him. Given the half of his heritage that he's more recently learned about, the castle seemed like an obvious choice, especially as it's still not quite a city locale. He's starting to regret it now.
Depending on how much she's been creeping on the Network, it's possible she's seen Hellboy around. (He is rather distinctive.) If so, she'd know that the majestic horns that fade into and out of view on his head over his stumps aren't usually there. Also generally absent is his crown, also intermittently visible and wreathed in fire. Over his shorts, he has a golden-handled sword sheathed on a belt at his side -- as opposed to his preferred style of wearing it on his back -- and a fine robe trimmed in fur.
He passes hand through the phantom horns and crown, trying without success to dispel them, then sighs. "Should've known to stay in the forest dream," he says ruefully.
no subject
"I think you look dashing."
no subject
With a quiet grumble about "how did this even get here," he takes off the sword belt, somehow rearranges how the scabbard attaches to it in a way that turns it into a proper baldric like the one he has in the waking world, and settles it on his back.
"There, that's better." And because he doesn't assume his rep has traveled so far or that people are creepers, he extends his left hand to shake. "I'm Hellboy, by the way."
no subject
no subject
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."
no subject
"Your line is supernatural, I'm guessing?"
no subject
"How 'bout you? What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"