Open // Incomplete
Characters: All Jardin students and staff.
Location: The Gallery of Reminiscence
Time: October 1st and 2nd
Summary: They gather while they sleep, to see their memories on display.
Thunder gently rumbles in the distance, but there is no sound of rain.
The halls are dimly lit, and yet there is no lamp, no torch, no candle.
Both floor and walls are lined in a plush, crushed velvet of the deepest purple, like the edge of the opposite horizon at sunset. The drapes lay completely still, as there is not wind to move them. The material envelopes sound and softens it to a whisper, like snow.
Along the winding corridors are paintings of the finest, quality, as if done by the most careful of masters. They are odd, abstract things, surreal impressions of what may or may not be true. And some are blurred, as if being viewed through a fine, opaque filter.
At the center of the gallery is the finest of all of the works, a portrait of a most handsome man. He has softly styled golden hair, and striking clear blue eyes. His clothes are well manicured, a garb from some older European age. On his lips is a serene, inviting smile.
Come, let us meet in our dreams.
Location: The Gallery of Reminiscence
Time: October 1st and 2nd
Summary: They gather while they sleep, to see their memories on display.
Thunder gently rumbles in the distance, but there is no sound of rain.
The halls are dimly lit, and yet there is no lamp, no torch, no candle.
Both floor and walls are lined in a plush, crushed velvet of the deepest purple, like the edge of the opposite horizon at sunset. The drapes lay completely still, as there is not wind to move them. The material envelopes sound and softens it to a whisper, like snow.
Along the winding corridors are paintings of the finest, quality, as if done by the most careful of masters. They are odd, abstract things, surreal impressions of what may or may not be true. And some are blurred, as if being viewed through a fine, opaque filter.
At the center of the gallery is the finest of all of the works, a portrait of a most handsome man. He has softly styled golden hair, and striking clear blue eyes. His clothes are well manicured, a garb from some older European age. On his lips is a serene, inviting smile.
Come, let us meet in our dreams.