(Untitled)

[azhdarchidae]

[Open to anyone. This is the drowning-dream.]

You’re flying over a dark, heaving sea on long, golden-purple wings.

The sky is gray. You can’t see the sun or any shore, and it’s getting darker, and you’re tiring. There are no thermals here. The air is unnaturally still, no friendly breezes to help you along. You’re beating your wings in a ragged

Comments

[temp_ered]

[ He can swim. It's the first thing he thinks of when he bolts into consciousness - why didn't he swim? But the water's pull had been inexorable. He shakes his head, his dry hair in his eyes, rubbing at them a little in the dark room.

He's had dreams of dying before -- who hasn't? But this one had been oddly vivid, and it took him some time to calm, some time for the smell of ocean to recede from his nose. ]

[ He can swim, he thinks. But so tired... he has to sleep. ]

[coughcoughshank]

[Daitou doesn't dream of flying, really - but he does dream of drowning, of his body fighting for air as he's trapped under water, under rock, or even simply suffocating on dry land.

He awakes with a sudden, gasping breath that triggers a string of coughs - it's been a while since he's had a dream like this. It takes him a few minutes to get his breathing calmed down again, and by the time he does, the memory of purple and gold wings is gone]

[getsome_sleep]

[Huo isn't used to such sharp awakenings. Sitting up so suddenly, as though the dream had physically flung him upright, makes him dizzy, and he quickly drops back again and lies staring at the ceiling, breathing hard. He knows who he was, in this dream.

So sharp. So real. Does she have dreams of this kind, too?

It seems only too likely, and in his dazed, tired state, his gut twists unpleasantly at the thought. Wingless, human, he has nothing to fear but dreams. Above dreams of fears that are very real to her - even the fear of the wings suddenly disappearing, abandoning her.

There's nothing he can do now, deep in the night... except, as he lies back down, to picture her in his mind, and start figuring out the optimal size, shape and texture for a warm and comforting Quetz blanket.]

Second night

[vile_queen]

[She can't breathe at first, waking, forcing herself to consciousness, trying to tell herself that it's not all dark, that she isn't trapped. Slowly self-awareness reasserts itself. She's not drowning. She's not sinking.

What was this? Some sort of warning? Mona ponders it for a time. Wings, flight. It had been a lovely feeling for a moment, but then everything went downhill. Maybe it was her brain sorting out this place, her reactions, what she was to do.

Mona will not sink, though, she decides. She will push, and she will find a way forward. The dream was a good thing, she thinks. It helps her to focus. She wants to fly. Maybe one day she'll figure out how to.]