(open dreamshare log) (muffled twilight zone playing in the distance)

[hackitude]

WHO: EVERYBOOOODYYYY (yeaaah) (rock your booodyyy) (yeaaah)
WHERE: DREAMSPACE
WHEN: The night of November 1st (slightly forward-dated to give people more time to play out threads mmk)
WHAT: DREAM SHENANIGANS (event info here!)
WARNINGS: None up here, but players please tag the subject lines of your dreams if they have NSFW or triggering content in them.

It's Saturday evening. What are you dreaming about, imPorts?

Some of you might find strangers intruding on your regular dreams. Others might find themselves suddenly in the dream of someone they've never met before. Or perhaps someone they're close to...? Either way. Seems like you're in for a bumpy night.

Comments

[lyingheart]

"Once." Where she'd lived before, but it's difficult for her to say if it was the only place. Just the one she last remembered when her father had spoken to her about apologies that were too late.

"I don't want to go back. I do... but I also don't. I'm enough of a coward to wish for something to be possible like that." Even in dreams, she has a certain honesty, and it's painting this scene over in faded blues as she puts in the distance that actually exists. The nothing still seems to thrum out of the cabin, but it's less insistent, not dragging anything toward it like it had been before.

[handwringing]

Elsa watches as the scene becomes more saturated, feels the tug of the cabin lessen. She rubs her hands together and thinks of Arendelle.

She doesn't want to go back. She doesn't want to face anyone after what she's done, and how she ran away from her responsibilities. But at the same time, she thinks of what Anna said, about how they could be close, open the gates, have people and parties and warmth in the castle all the time.

She wants that part. Let her country do what it will.

(Is that really right?)

"...You're not the only coward."

She wishes she had comfort to offer.

[lyingheart]

"What a pair we make." Annie doesn't look her way straight away. Her shoulders fall a little, in an unspoken relief. You're not the only coward.

There's no logic for when the whole of the landscape changes, nor what it changes into. One moment they're there in the saturated clearing with the cabin, the next they're standing on a cliffside made of clouds as the sunset paints the skies in brilliant colors before them. It's quiet at first, but far off, if they strain to listen, birds can be heard. The cry of a falcon. A swallow, calling out as it moves from bush to bush.

"The sun sets, and it rises. I wonder what it is we'll see tomorrow." Their shadows stretch out impossibly long behind them, on a landscape obscured by low-hanging fog, rising no higher than their ankles. They could be anywhere. They could be nowhere. It doesn't matter.

The only thing left is whatever's coming. Watching this sunset... there's at least that tenuous sense of hope. There will be a tomorrow. Maybe one more. Maybe ten thousand more. Time is no guarantee... only chance.