(Untitled)

[lord_of_dreams]

Take a story, and bind it into a book. There is a cover, a title page, credits, and the information which a publisher adds. Dedication, acknowledgments, and the chapter heading before the story begins. Stories never begin in the beginning. They start in the middle; one trick first time writers are told is to put the second chapter firstStories

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[gotham_knocking]

Knox sits at the Bar, studying a beer. He's a bit pensive right now, pondering the fate of a friend, pondering the strange yet wonderful things that come his way here. He just barely notices the example of the strange in the general area.

[lord_of_dreams]

Dream is more than willing to allow the introspective to be introspective without interrupting.

He does, however, nod a greeting when Knox next looks up.

[gotham_knocking]

Knox stares a bit, of course. The pale, pale man in the throne has a degree of strange grandeur. Like sometihng out of a fairy tale. But then, Knox knows about fairy tales.

"Hello."

[lord_of_dreams]

"Good day, Alexander Knox." Dream says with very, very faint amusement.

[hippodamio]

The young man who enters the Bar is not much beyond fourteen, though he looks some years older just at the moment. Standing vigil over a fallen sibling does that, as does seeing her waken only to speak words no-one at all can understand. Hektor had not meant to come to the Bar, although he does not object to it. Neither had he meant to speak to any others here, particularly; but the stranger catches his eye, and without so much as thinking he is bowed, fist knuckled against his brow.

[lord_of_dreams]

In return Dream dips his head faintly to the young prince. He does not bow in turn, but there is a certain measure of respect in turn, "Ekatoro."

[hippodamio]

One might think that meeting a god, and the son of a goddess, and the messenger of a god might harden one to such meetings. But then, one would be mistaken. There is a shiver that runs down his back at the sound of his name, though he steels himself against it. "Please- I am sorry, I do not know what to call you. . ."

[lord_of_dreams]

"I am Dream." he states, and does not give the name he is known most by. Too close to Ekatoro's time is Orpheus' death. Morpheus is too close to that to hear in this child's accent. "Of the Endless."

[waylostandfound]

Nathan was sitting, and still brooding and troubled. He had a drink, but was watching it more than drinking right now.

He noticed the stranger in passing, and went to focus on his drink again. But then he found himself glancing at him again.

[lord_of_dreams]

Dream is not one to make the first move.

He is, however, also not a man. He is male, masculine, but too.

Too thin, too tall, too white, too black. His robes are flame and nightmare; not cloth. His eyes are space spangled with stars. There is no blood in his skin. His features shift from second to second in the same way that his throne changes.

[waylostandfound]

It's unsettling actually. The flames were something of nightmares for him. Fire was something that had haunted him for many years now. And even more so now with the likely explosion so close.

Nathan warily replied, "Good evening."

[lord_of_dreams]

"Good evening, Nathen Petrelli." his voice is not a voice, it is a memory of someone speaking in a dream.

This should not be too surprising.

[night_hibiscus]

There's such a thing as Family resemblance. And there's certainly such a thing as being clearly, unmistakeably, a supernatural being.

"Good evening," Yuna says, bowing and twisting her hands into the ritual blessing.

[lord_of_dreams]

"Good evening, Yuna." Dream says in turn, dipping his head to her.

[night_hibiscus]

She's not surprised; of all the gods and powerful spirits she's met, only Yrael didn't know her name at first.

She is, however, at a disadvantage. "I'm afraid that I do not know your name."

[lord_of_dreams]

"I am Dream," he says without expression, "of the Endless."

[princeinexile]

Zuko is there.

They spoke once.

Zuko is even less happy now then he was then.

[lord_of_dreams]

Dream is not Despair. Happiness, and the lack there of, mean no more to him than they do to any other; there are a few who concern him and many who do not. His realm is thought, not emotion.

[princeinexile]

Zuko would beg to differ, but Zuko is a sullen teenager.

Still; he knows better then to spit venom at a powerful spirit. He just inclines his head, a bow to a superior, and then straightens.

There is some uncertainty of whether he should speka to the 'man' at all, honestly.