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

[swiftdawn]

Alexia seems to have acquired a baseball cap from somewhere, although it doesn't carry any recognizable team insignia. She clambers over the rusting fence with practiced ease, although none of the players nor the crowd seem to take any notice.

"What kind of mad Earth game is this?"