32 // [Dream]

[neverendingbeat]

[The Master rarely sleeps. As an old acquaintance of his said once, "Sleep is for tortoises." And that's at least one thing he's said that the Master can agree with. Why sleep when there are so many more, interesting options for what he could be doing?

Of course, given long enough, he does need sleep, but that's not what's happening tonight. Tonight

Comments

[doujin_dork]

And here comes Hiyori into another dream! This is- expansive. Has she been here before? In a party, perhaps. Was this that scene? There was a beat of party music, after all.

But it was empty. This was certainly odd. "Uh, hello?"

[neverendingbeat]

Well, maybe not entirely empty. If Hiyori walks just a little bit further, she'll see a crouching figure, rocking slightly. The figure is difficult to see at the distance Hiyori is, just a dark shape.

[doujin_dork]

Oh- Oh dear. That can't be good. Did someone fall? She goes closer to the figure, trying to tune out the beat, it's becoming a little annoying, now, sort of like the ticking. "Uh, excuse me? Are you okay?"

[neverendingbeat]

"Okay....." says the figure, a woman, long red dress pooling around her feet, sounding out the word as if she's not certain what it means. Her hair, long and blonde, hangs down around her face. She's lost her shoes somewhere, which becomes evident as she turns around slowly to face Hiyori, sinking to her knees and sitting back onto her haunches, her face emotionless and blank, vague, meaningless smile pasted on her lips.

"Hello," says Lucy Saxon.

[makes_you_tick]

It's familiar, of course. Sylar can't place his finger on what, exactly, is familiar about it, but it is.

He figures he's still in his dream, because after all, he just opened the door to one of the trailers, and the trailers in his dream lead to some very odd places indeed. But this isn't quite where his tastes lie right now.

He doesn't call out, he just waits with observant (perhaps paranoid) eyes. The expression on his face is the careful devil-may-care one he tends to get when he's really worried.

[ ooc: I think he's already fairly disillusioned. XD Also, feel free to ignore/delete this if your dance card is full already. <3 ]

[neverendingbeat]

The drums become ever louder as the TARDIS acknowledges Sylar's presence. They reach their apex and there is a short period where nothing else happens.

And then the sound of marching begins from behind Sylar which is no longer a doorway but a hall, funny how that works in dreams. It sounds like whatever is marching, there is a lot of it.

[ooc: DANCE CARD NEVER FULL. I HAVE NO CONCEPT OF MODERATION. Just need to. Hm. I'll see what happens here. I'm not sure yet, really.]

[makes_you_tick]

Sylar winces as the drums get louder. If they were synchronized, it wouldn't be as bad, but he's so used to the City's ticking that he can't help but notice the discrepancy.

He turns around at the sound of the marching, and immediately starts looking around for some place to duck into, if he needs to. Not that he should need to, right? He just wishes he knew where he was. He could stand to have a cover story to start off with.

[ooc: XD That is the best part of these dream posts. ]

[neverendingbeat]

There's nowhere to hide and the only two directions are towards and away from the marching down the long, empty hallway.

Then the marchers fade into view and they're...well, they might be human. They're dressed in an array of clothing, mostly tending toward the fashions of the early 70s. They're human shaped, but...they don't seem to have eyes. In fact, there's something off about them in general, they move stiffly, almost as if they aren't quite...real.

And, of course, they aren't. They're shop window dummies, Autons, animated here not by the Nestene but rather the Master's consciousness. They're merely eerie at the moment, the multitude of them stretching back down the hall but if Sylar stays in one place for too long...

[ooc: ...it is and it isn't. Cos this might drag out very slightly as I try to establish what's going on.]