We're heading across the river,
Who: Gwyn and Death
What: Wakey wakey, eggs and baccy.
Where: Death's room
When: Sunday at midnight.
Warnings: Creepiness?
It felt like rising through thick water. Limbs heavy, all movement sluggish, lungs burning from the silence of it until she burst through to consciousness on a bed she'd never seen before. Unfamiliarity slammed into her brain at a thousand miles an hour, assaulting every sense she had and some that humans don't. Gwyn sat bolt upright, looking around her in bald alarm, freezing in place to stop and sense.
Reality. No- unreality, woven. Yes. Strangeness and multiplicity, hn, smelled like the hotel rug after a Greek orgy. Too much magic. Not enough grounding. Old magic, and wild, and empty.
Empty.
A sense of absence assaulted her and she reacted in instinctive panic, retreating until she fell off the bed, only to snap to her feet immediately, staring raptly at the ceiling. Her eyes fixed on something only she could see.
What: Wakey wakey, eggs and baccy.
Where: Death's room
When: Sunday at midnight.
Warnings: Creepiness?
It felt like rising through thick water. Limbs heavy, all movement sluggish, lungs burning from the silence of it until she burst through to consciousness on a bed she'd never seen before. Unfamiliarity slammed into her brain at a thousand miles an hour, assaulting every sense she had and some that humans don't. Gwyn sat bolt upright, looking around her in bald alarm, freezing in place to stop and sense.
Reality. No- unreality, woven. Yes. Strangeness and multiplicity, hn, smelled like the hotel rug after a Greek orgy. Too much magic. Not enough grounding. Old magic, and wild, and empty.
Empty.
A sense of absence assaulted her and she reacted in instinctive panic, retreating until she fell off the bed, only to snap to her feet immediately, staring raptly at the ceiling. Her eyes fixed on something only she could see.