Refuge Possibilities
This would be set sometime after Larkin is grown. Possibly quite a long time, since Song now has that phylactery she wanted (and doesn't even know it).
In the town of Anchorage Harbor, on a backstreet with the eldritch ability to feel empty and quiet despite it's nearness to the Star Terminal, there is a shop that sells dreams.
In tavern and brothel one might hear rumors of the woman who runs this shop. They call her a heartbreaker, and an otherworlder. Some say she has two hearts, one dark and one light. Others argue that she lost her heart long ago. No one knows this woman's age. Her skin is unwrinkled, her hair has not a trace of gray, but her eyes have seen worlds rise and fall.
If you ask for her name, she will give you only one simple word, and that is Song. If you ask elsewhere, however, you may find she has many names. Some have overheard visitors call her Robin, as in the mischievous Puck of Fae mythology. Others insist it is Medrau, and have traced this name to a traitorous figure of otherworld legend. Her customers refer to her as Dreambinder, Dreamseeker, or simply the dreamseller. Or, if you listen very closely, the Mistress of Nightmares. A nickname of Little Bird is also known, and from this the rumors spring that she can transform herself into a bird and learn the secrets of the world from the vantage of this tiny, unobtrusive form.
Sometimes the shop closes and its owner vanishes for weeks at a time. Other times there are visitors who do not come for her dreams. More than once, a man has been seen at her door accompanied by a dark-haired damsel more beautiful than any whore in the Hall of Aphrodisia. Always she gives him a kiss on the doorstep, then leads him and his alluring companion inside. No one wonders what her relationship to these travelers might be.
If you patron the dreamshop, there are two choices. The small front room is artfully crammed with varieties of enchanted objects and ceremonial tools, as well as the odd scientific artifact. Dreamcatchers are a staple stock, some of them hand-crafted by the lady herself. Books and trinkets, crystals and cards are also common, and all is relatively harmless and low-priced. If you are a higher paying customer, however, it is into the larger back room you go. Here, behind a curtain of rattling beads, is an arrangement of plush chairs and soft chaise lounges, all shadowed in a decor of cherrywood red and midnight purple. It is here that the lady of the house sells her true talent. For the right price, whatever dream you ask for, be it therapy or whimsy.
You might also be offered a cup of tea, and it is advisable not to refuse.
Once, and only once, a man came to the shop who was not her dark lover nor a customer. This man had white hair drawn back in a tail, and wore spotless white clothing that should have been stained by the filthy streets of Anchorage. When the dreamseller saw him, a look of such awe and disbelief crossed her face that many of her patrons would have lost their faith in her mysticism had they seen it. No one overheard what passed between the two, but three days later the shop was closed again, and did not reopen for thirteen months.
In the town of Anchorage Harbor, on a backstreet with the eldritch ability to feel empty and quiet despite it's nearness to the Star Terminal, there is a shop that sells dreams.
In tavern and brothel one might hear rumors of the woman who runs this shop. They call her a heartbreaker, and an otherworlder. Some say she has two hearts, one dark and one light. Others argue that she lost her heart long ago. No one knows this woman's age. Her skin is unwrinkled, her hair has not a trace of gray, but her eyes have seen worlds rise and fall.
If you ask for her name, she will give you only one simple word, and that is Song. If you ask elsewhere, however, you may find she has many names. Some have overheard visitors call her Robin, as in the mischievous Puck of Fae mythology. Others insist it is Medrau, and have traced this name to a traitorous figure of otherworld legend. Her customers refer to her as Dreambinder, Dreamseeker, or simply the dreamseller. Or, if you listen very closely, the Mistress of Nightmares. A nickname of Little Bird is also known, and from this the rumors spring that she can transform herself into a bird and learn the secrets of the world from the vantage of this tiny, unobtrusive form.
Sometimes the shop closes and its owner vanishes for weeks at a time. Other times there are visitors who do not come for her dreams. More than once, a man has been seen at her door accompanied by a dark-haired damsel more beautiful than any whore in the Hall of Aphrodisia. Always she gives him a kiss on the doorstep, then leads him and his alluring companion inside. No one wonders what her relationship to these travelers might be.
If you patron the dreamshop, there are two choices. The small front room is artfully crammed with varieties of enchanted objects and ceremonial tools, as well as the odd scientific artifact. Dreamcatchers are a staple stock, some of them hand-crafted by the lady herself. Books and trinkets, crystals and cards are also common, and all is relatively harmless and low-priced. If you are a higher paying customer, however, it is into the larger back room you go. Here, behind a curtain of rattling beads, is an arrangement of plush chairs and soft chaise lounges, all shadowed in a decor of cherrywood red and midnight purple. It is here that the lady of the house sells her true talent. For the right price, whatever dream you ask for, be it therapy or whimsy.
You might also be offered a cup of tea, and it is advisable not to refuse.
Once, and only once, a man came to the shop who was not her dark lover nor a customer. This man had white hair drawn back in a tail, and wore spotless white clothing that should have been stained by the filthy streets of Anchorage. When the dreamseller saw him, a look of such awe and disbelief crossed her face that many of her patrons would have lost their faith in her mysticism had they seen it. No one overheard what passed between the two, but three days later the shop was closed again, and did not reopen for thirteen months.