Dreamshare: OPEN to all
Thunk. Thunk.
The sounds of footfalls on wood register before his actual surroundings do. When the world comes into focus it becomes evident that he is on a rope bridge that seems to stretch on forever. The end of the bridge cannot be seen, obscured as it is by the curtain of grey snow drifting all around. No, not snow. Ash. Cloyingly thick, it gives everything a dingy, murky appearance. A flash of auburn hair ahead reminds him why he's running. They upset something, someone, and now they are fleeing, seeking some sort of shelter from the ash.
He glances behind to see if they are being followed. Nothing behind him but another endless length of bridge. When he turns his attention back to where he was going Lyle finds that Kagerou is gone and he has reached the threshold of the island. When he steps onto solid ground he looks up into the branches of the Great Oak. Nestled within the large branches that cradle it like gnarled fingers is a humongous cigarette, about as long as a building.
"So, that's where the ash was coming from," he comments to no one in particular. "It should go away if I smoke it." The way he says it gives the impression that this is the most natural, obvious conclusion one could reach. Attached to the monstrous tobacco product is a long string, just within his reach. With a firm yank of the string it falls--and when he glances at his palm it lands there, the size of an ordinary cigarette.
The moment he lifts it to his lips he hears a softly inquisitive noise. He looks down to see a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, with brown hair, a pink jumper, and no discernible features. Her face is both heavily shadowed and lacking any real distinction, though when she speaks the pink inside of her mouth and the whites of her teeth are visible. "How does that taste?" she asks curiously.
That takes a moment of consideration and Lyle holds the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, studying it before he answers. "Smoky." As if that wasn't obvious, so he elaborates. "Kind of bitter."
"Ewww." Despite not being able to make out a nose, he can somehow tell she is crinkling it in distaste. He begins to chuckle when he feels a weight half pounce, half settle on his shoulders. It isn't necessary to whirl around to see it, but he does so while he turns his head.
"Relax." The black cat perched on his shoulder speaks with an old man's voice as it shifts into a more comfortable position. "It's just me." Lyle takes another drag on his cigarette before it comments, "That smells, you know. I'm not sure why you bother with it."
"It's relaxing." Except it isn't anymore, for various reasons. While his brain knows this, his dream-self seems unperturbed and oddly contented with his old habits. "Besides, once I finish the ash will be spent."
"If you say so." The cat shrugs, then hops down and starts walking down a white corridor buzzing with florescent lighting and tiled with linoleum. Never mind that just moments before they had been standing amongst the large, winding roots of the Access Point. When his feline companion turns a corner Lyle follows it.
The cat is nowhere to be found. Instead, Stellaris is standing before him, stethoscope around her neck and clipboard in hand. That explains the sterile surroundings and the pervasive smell of rubbing alcohol that mingles with the smoke; they are in the midst of the Clinic.
"That is a very unhealthy habit," she gives him an admonishing look before smiling and plucking the cigarette from between his lips. His line of vision is now drawn to the object between her fingertips, particularly the way the tip of it smolders in a mixture of bright red and amber. About to make a retort, he glances up to look her in the eyes. It's then that he notices--the familiar deep red is now threaded with traces of gold and glowing as vividly as the ember she holds. Startled, he blinks and the world around him starts to fizzle back into wakefulness.
((ooc: This dream is backdated to 11:30pm on Friday. /got the event dates mixed up and is a slowpoke as a result.))
The sounds of footfalls on wood register before his actual surroundings do. When the world comes into focus it becomes evident that he is on a rope bridge that seems to stretch on forever. The end of the bridge cannot be seen, obscured as it is by the curtain of grey snow drifting all around. No, not snow. Ash. Cloyingly thick, it gives everything a dingy, murky appearance. A flash of auburn hair ahead reminds him why he's running. They upset something, someone, and now they are fleeing, seeking some sort of shelter from the ash.
He glances behind to see if they are being followed. Nothing behind him but another endless length of bridge. When he turns his attention back to where he was going Lyle finds that Kagerou is gone and he has reached the threshold of the island. When he steps onto solid ground he looks up into the branches of the Great Oak. Nestled within the large branches that cradle it like gnarled fingers is a humongous cigarette, about as long as a building.
"So, that's where the ash was coming from," he comments to no one in particular. "It should go away if I smoke it." The way he says it gives the impression that this is the most natural, obvious conclusion one could reach. Attached to the monstrous tobacco product is a long string, just within his reach. With a firm yank of the string it falls--and when he glances at his palm it lands there, the size of an ordinary cigarette.
The moment he lifts it to his lips he hears a softly inquisitive noise. He looks down to see a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, with brown hair, a pink jumper, and no discernible features. Her face is both heavily shadowed and lacking any real distinction, though when she speaks the pink inside of her mouth and the whites of her teeth are visible. "How does that taste?" she asks curiously.
That takes a moment of consideration and Lyle holds the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, studying it before he answers. "Smoky." As if that wasn't obvious, so he elaborates. "Kind of bitter."
"Ewww." Despite not being able to make out a nose, he can somehow tell she is crinkling it in distaste. He begins to chuckle when he feels a weight half pounce, half settle on his shoulders. It isn't necessary to whirl around to see it, but he does so while he turns his head.
"Relax." The black cat perched on his shoulder speaks with an old man's voice as it shifts into a more comfortable position. "It's just me." Lyle takes another drag on his cigarette before it comments, "That smells, you know. I'm not sure why you bother with it."
"It's relaxing." Except it isn't anymore, for various reasons. While his brain knows this, his dream-self seems unperturbed and oddly contented with his old habits. "Besides, once I finish the ash will be spent."
"If you say so." The cat shrugs, then hops down and starts walking down a white corridor buzzing with florescent lighting and tiled with linoleum. Never mind that just moments before they had been standing amongst the large, winding roots of the Access Point. When his feline companion turns a corner Lyle follows it.
The cat is nowhere to be found. Instead, Stellaris is standing before him, stethoscope around her neck and clipboard in hand. That explains the sterile surroundings and the pervasive smell of rubbing alcohol that mingles with the smoke; they are in the midst of the Clinic.
"That is a very unhealthy habit," she gives him an admonishing look before smiling and plucking the cigarette from between his lips. His line of vision is now drawn to the object between her fingertips, particularly the way the tip of it smolders in a mixture of bright red and amber. About to make a retort, he glances up to look her in the eyes. It's then that he notices--the familiar deep red is now threaded with traces of gold and glowing as vividly as the ember she holds. Startled, he blinks and the world around him starts to fizzle back into wakefulness.
((ooc: This dream is backdated to 11:30pm on Friday. /got the event dates mixed up and is a slowpoke as a result.))