☇ First
[ Nothing seems (too) out of the ordinary at first within the dream.
Greeting whomever steps within the boundaries of the dream is the city of Paris. In the distance the Eiffel Tower can be seen along with other familiar landmarks. Faceless people make their way through the streets and through the shops, all completely unaware of the fact they weren't real or that they had company for that matter. However, the sky over head was not the familiar shade of blue that a normal person would be accustomed to. Instead, it had taken on the color of burnt orange, while the once-typically green grass was red and green leafed trees that dotted the side walks were now silver.
But again, not a single one of these faceless people noticed or even cared. They simply continued on about their business, speaking in a variety of different languages. Some were familiar ones that originated from Earth while others were alien. Very alien.
And seated at a table behind a fence of a cafe was a woman with blond hair and wearing a high collared blue blouse with an ankle-length black skirt and short heeled boots to match. Hanging from her neck was a medallion with an engraved symbol upon it as well as a necklace where a strange looking key dangled from. Sipping her tea Romana glances up over the rim of her cup, her left eyebrow arching up slowly, as she sets down what looks like a newspaper. A newspaper with text written in not only another language, but it also seemed to be moving, ever changing.
It's fairly obvious that even in sleep her mind is always moving and thinking. Not very healthy, really. ]
I admit I wasn't expecting company.
Greeting whomever steps within the boundaries of the dream is the city of Paris. In the distance the Eiffel Tower can be seen along with other familiar landmarks. Faceless people make their way through the streets and through the shops, all completely unaware of the fact they weren't real or that they had company for that matter. However, the sky over head was not the familiar shade of blue that a normal person would be accustomed to. Instead, it had taken on the color of burnt orange, while the once-typically green grass was red and green leafed trees that dotted the side walks were now silver.
But again, not a single one of these faceless people noticed or even cared. They simply continued on about their business, speaking in a variety of different languages. Some were familiar ones that originated from Earth while others were alien. Very alien.
And seated at a table behind a fence of a cafe was a woman with blond hair and wearing a high collared blue blouse with an ankle-length black skirt and short heeled boots to match. Hanging from her neck was a medallion with an engraved symbol upon it as well as a necklace where a strange looking key dangled from. Sipping her tea Romana glances up over the rim of her cup, her left eyebrow arching up slowly, as she sets down what looks like a newspaper. A newspaper with text written in not only another language, but it also seemed to be moving, ever changing.
It's fairly obvious that even in sleep her mind is always moving and thinking. Not very healthy, really. ]
I admit I wasn't expecting company.