(Untitled)

[blue_eyed_lord]

They turn, and they are somewhere else. Another shadowed alley in the sprawling city of Los Angeles, with only a passed-out drunk to be an unknowing witness to their arrival.

The Rider takes a quick (free) breath, then lets it out

Comments

[hands_unclean]

"Tell me what we have just done is no dream," the Lady rasps. She cranes her neck to take in what sights she can, eyes wide (and hungry). "I know it has happened, but I must hear it said. Tell me that we are here and gone."

[blue_eyed_lord]

The last of his breath is hissed out sharply. "We are here, and we are gone," he says, his soft musing contrasting with the sharpness of his blue eyes.

"This dream, perhaps, is a dream no longer."

They are free, but they are also alone.

The Rider had forgotten what it was like to be the only one, with the world open and untouched before him.

[hands_unclean]

"That is well." She runs her hand along the brick walls of the alleyway, her shoes echoing against the pavement and mortar. "Truman served us well. But the city will not fall to us from here. I am ripe for moving. Where shall we go now?"

[blue_eyed_lord]

"Truman was a tool," he dismisses the person in favor of what might be of use.

"But he did have information that may prove to be useful. He mentioned to me, once, that nearly everyone in this world watched the show he was unknowingly trapped in. This Christof may be a person to know."

And control.

The Dark cannot take over a world with just the two of them. They need a way to gain influence with minds far beyond their current physical selves. If this world is already a slave to something as simple as a television show, it is the obvious target.