They turn, and they are somewhere else. Another shadowed alley in the sprawling city of Los Angeles, with only a passed-out drunk to be an unknowing witness to their arrival.
The Rider takes a quick (free) breath, then lets it out
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"Tell me what we have just done is no dream," the Lady rasps. She cranes her neck to take in what sights she can, eyes wide (and hungry). "I know it has happened, but I must hear it said. Tell me that we are here and gone."
The last of his breath is hissed out sharply. "We are here, and we are gone," he says, his soft musing contrasting with the sharpness of his blue eyes.
"This dream, perhaps, is a dream no longer."
They are free, but they are also alone.
The Rider had forgotten what it was like to be the only one, with the world open and untouched before him.
"That is well." She runs her hand along the brick walls of the alleyway, her shoes echoing against the pavement and mortar. "Truman served us well. But the city will not fall to us from here. I am ripe for moving. Where shall we go now?"
"Truman was a tool," he dismisses the person in favor of what might be of use.
"But he did have information that may prove to be useful. He mentioned to me, once, that nearly everyone in this world watched the show he was unknowingly trapped in. This Christof may be a person to know."
And control.
The Dark cannot take over a world with just the two of them. They need a way to gain influence with minds far beyond their current physical selves. If this world is already a slave to something as simple as a television show, it is the obvious target.
Were she a courser, she'd be straining at the bit. As it is, she simply lifts a brow.
"We should find him, then."
She is less familiar with this century and its ways than he is, for all her study. Still, she mastered the accent, and Gruoch knows she can count on her own adaptability, if little else.
He lifts his head, as if listening or thinking hard about something.
But he is doing neither. There is little enough to listen to, past the distant sounds of late-night traffic and the occasional police siren. And as to thinking, this takes no real effort of thought.
"First, we shall have to arrange for him to wish to find us, as well. It will be simple enough to arrange."
For him to arrange. She has not the power, yet. Gruoch has but stepped into the Dark, and has not the power of a Rider, nor will she for a while. But no matter. There is time enough for all manner of things, when one has forever.
It is hard to go from queen to understudy. Her tongue should be half-severed from all the times she's bitten it.
But now it is more true than ever: they are only two. And the Rider has little choice but to teach her. So she waits. And watches him.
"You have showed me but a little of how to do this." If she is to be consigned to observing yet again, she will abide -- but she is not coy about wanting more.
"You know but a little, yet," he replies with little care for her impatience.
"We will look for this Christof, and he, unknowingly, will look for us."
It has long been the way of doing things. To be a force in the world, one must have a place within that world. A position as a denizen of that world, so to speak.
"And when we find him, or the other way around, we will begin."
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"This dream, perhaps, is a dream no longer."
They are free, but they are also alone.
The Rider had forgotten what it was like to be the only one, with the world open and untouched before him.
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"But he did have information that may prove to be useful. He mentioned to me, once, that nearly everyone in this world watched the show he was unknowingly trapped in. This Christof may be a person to know."
And control.
The Dark cannot take over a world with just the two of them. They need a way to gain influence with minds far beyond their current physical selves. If this world is already a slave to something as simple as a television show, it is the obvious target.
Reply
"We should find him, then."
She is less familiar with this century and its ways than he is, for all her study. Still, she mastered the accent, and Gruoch knows she can count on her own adaptability, if little else.
Reply
He lifts his head, as if listening or thinking hard about something.
But he is doing neither. There is little enough to listen to, past the distant sounds of late-night traffic and the occasional police siren. And as to thinking, this takes no real effort of thought.
"First, we shall have to arrange for him to wish to find us, as well. It will be simple enough to arrange."
For him to arrange. She has not the power, yet. Gruoch has but stepped into the Dark, and has not the power of a Rider, nor will she for a while. But no matter. There is time enough for all manner of things, when one has forever.
Reply
But now it is more true than ever: they are only two. And the Rider has little choice but to teach her. So she waits. And watches him.
"You have showed me but a little of how to do this." If she is to be consigned to observing yet again, she will abide -- but she is not coy about wanting more.
Reply
"We will look for this Christof, and he, unknowingly, will look for us."
It has long been the way of doing things. To be a force in the world, one must have a place within that world. A position as a denizen of that world, so to speak.
"And when we find him, or the other way around, we will begin."
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"I would begin venturing into the city, then. My lord, let us go forth."
All around, Los Angeles is calling. And the night belongs to them.
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LA's going to have something of a cold snap, this Christmas.
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