And they fell asleep...

[fishy_go_byebye]

Who: Delirium and all who attend.
What: A wake. A party. A memorial. A bardic circle? To remember Dream and mourn his passing. Sel Del can move on and get used to Daniel in her head. And! kinda like a story prompt. You know it's fun ♥~
When: April 28, 2009 (Forward dated so people have time?)
Where: The Lux
Rating: PG-13, for now. Unless a story

Comments

[bro_codebreaker]

Barney comes, as he promised he would, but not in black. He has a feeling it wouldn't be right, somehow, not for someone who's Endless, someone who brought dreams to people. Dreams are anything but black, after all, and he's not dead. He comes in a white suit, instead, more of a blank canvas, and leans against a table, watching everyone mill around, trying to think of one particular dream that stands out against the thousands he's had in his lifetime. Finally, when there's a lull, he shakes his head, walks up, and dives in.

"Uh, hi. ... I was going to tell you guys the best dream story ever, something to knock your socks off, some crazy dream I had when I was a kid that inspired me to be as awesome as I am, or ... Or I dunno. Maybe one of the dreams I had after the whole incident with the space zombies, that kept me together. But dreams are kind of like books, or movies, or songs: it's impossible to pick your favorite. Because every single one has a part to it that resonates with you. A part that sticks in your head and makes you say 'Yeah, I loved that one. Because it's about this part of me, about who I am. Or who I wanna be. Or who I wish I was'." He shuffles a little, sticks his hands in his pockets.

"And there are the nightmares, too. The dreams we have that we don't want to remember ... because they remind us of who we could be - or what we lack, or what we fear. In mine ... I lose. I do a lot of losing. And I ... I know what it is, to lose." He looks out around everyone, his eyes settling on Del for a moment, quietly.

"But that's not what we've done, here. We haven't really lost... because we still have our nightmares and our dreams. We remember them all, and there are more to come. As long as we even remember, for a minute, who we are ... we're the product of our dreams, aren't we? Isn't that what everyone's mother or father tells them, growing up? That we can be whatever we dream? ... So .... I dunno. .... I may never have met the guy, here, but ... In a way, I owe a lot of who I am, to him. ... So I'm gonna do my best to keep his spirit alive, here. It might not be enough, but..."

He purses his lips, slowly, looking around for the words he thought he'd brought up with him. After a moment, the awkward silence catches up with him, and he steps away and goes back to his corner, quietly, leaving his thought hanging in the air for the next person to catch, and maybe even finish for him.