footsteps follow, down through the hollow sound

[c_zacatechichi]

Characters: c-zacatechichi and you (open :: see HERE)
Date: March 31st
Summary: Fela is walking the Garden's dreams.
Warnings: To be updated as any appear!

Comments

[mellifluently]

[Mahalia has clearly been reading too many fairy tales before bed again, and would likely be found curled around a book, if Fela were to wake and check on her. In the dreaming, however, she can be found running down an endless staircase, although the atmosphere is not as dark and terrible as it could be if she truly feared what was pursuing her. She's slowed, several times, by the dress she's wearing, the mass of blue skirts trailing over the stone steps behind her and impeding her running. The footsteps and calls pursuing her gain ground each time she hesitates, almost trips, but remain formless in the distance, the shadows of the steps long left behind

[c_zacatechichi]

[Fela is curious of her surroundings as she enters the dream, at the top of the stairs, just as Mahalia is disappearing below her out of sight. Fela watches after her thoughtfully for a moment, the trail of blue fabric whispering across stone. Fela supposes, then, she is not very surprised by her own dress. What a charming imagination her sister has. Fela smiles, glancing around as deep but distant sound of chimes echoes from nearby.

She follows after Mahalia after a moment, her own feet bare. The stones beneath her feet are cool and flat, not well traveled like the steps up to a bustling castle should be. Fela does not run to catch up with her sister, appears leisurely behind the girl as she stares out into the darkness. Fela pauses on the bottom two steps, contemplating the darkness herself before she decides that, perhaps, what the scene is missing most are stars.

She comes to stand next to her sister, offering out a little leather satchel, cinched closed.]

[mellifluently]

[Mahalia is not truly that surprised to have Fela in her dreams. She doesn't know if the drift that pulls chasers to other dreamers has anything to do with distance, but she is the nearest sleeper, and she has needed help with her rest several times since arriving in the gardens. Even beyond that, it isn't unusual for her to dream about her sister, so the chances she is real or something from Mahalia's own imagination are half and half.

Either way, she won't turn away from her, although she does glance back behind her, up the steps where Fela had come from, sure there had been a prince following her.

There's no one else there, so she reaches out to take the little satchel, curious as she draws it open.]

What is it?

[c_zacatechichi]

[Fela leans in to her to kiss her forehead, murmuring conspiratorially as she pulls back an inch to speak,]

Stardust, I believe.

[She smiles, can give so many more gifts to her sister in the dreaming than she can in the real world. She very much hopes Mahalia enjoys this one.]

You have a very large canvas for it.

Belated.

[mutationisgreat]

[The sunlight streams oddly through the stained glass windows, which depict no imagery, though something about them give the impression of swirling chaos and verdant greenness. Little else exists in furnishing, other than the intricate designs glittering in every surface, baroque curves engraved and then filled in with... It gleams almost like gemstones of many colors, whatever it is. The total effect is to fill the entire room with colored light, tinting everyone oddly

[c_zacatechichi]

[Such a brilliant dream cannot help but lure Fela's attention in her drifting. The swathe of color drawing her in curiosity, she blends herself gently with the dreamer's thoughts. She is careful not to disrupt the circle, watching them with interest, but also not quite able to resist wandering the hall, tracing her fingers over carvings, engrossed in their strange, wild stories.

She wonders if this is a memory or the product of dreamer's imagination, although in either case it is very beautiful, Fela is pleased to have come across it, experienced it with her own heart.

The dreamchasser keeps a small part of her attention on the gathering, wonders what they are discussing, but does not yet probe deeper into the sleeper's mind to find out. She is content to watch the scene in front of her, for now, perhaps the topic will reveal itself if she observes for a little longer.]

[contemptuous]

[The interior of this room is dank, dark and cold, and girls sit clinging to one another, curled in on themselves. There is the immediate sense that something is wrong with them -- the way they clutch at their stomachs and writhe, gnash teeth too sharp and jagged to be human. The only sound is that of the steady drip of water, interspersed here and there by soft whimpers and sobs. There is only one window, where dappled moonlight tries its level best to creep through

[c_zacatechichi]

[She does not belong amongst these girls. She is not one of them, her teeth do not flash swift and white in the darkness, her skin does not burn with hunger, her bones do not twist with pain. She does not belong amongst them, and those huddled together do not even see Fela as she moves through the darkened room. Her dress glitters silver, her skin glitters gold.

She lays her hand gently on Galatea's small shoulder, kneeling down beside her with a gentle expression.]

Let me help you.

[Dreams are hers to shape, she could reign in that hunger, could silence that pain, could banish this nightmare entirely. But not if the dreamer clings to it, the memory, true and deep, hooked into the crevices of the mind.]