Into that lightless place bled a tiny streak of color, weak and pale. Bit by bit it spread, seeping up into a sky streaked with a few wisps of cloud. Tenuous as it was, the light above began to illuminate the shape of the land below; gradually hills and plains gained definition, gathering color as children gather wildflowers, until the greenery was
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The walk was worth it in the end, however: if for no other reason than to see Dream wearing smudges of paint.
"I thought painters were supposed to wear berets," she remarks teasingly, reaching out to wipe at one of the smudges on his cheek.
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She lets her hand fall to her side again when he's focused on her.
"I was attacked. Certain portions of the population under my care have decided they want their 'freedom' from 'tyranny'." She can't help but roll her eyes. She's many things, but not a tyrant. "May I stay here until I'm feeling better? I can't go home looking like this without things getting worse, and I can't go anywhere else without the babies continuing to grow, which would lead to questions I don't want to answer."
She's not going to plead. Not yet. But she hopes, oh so much.
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Then and only then does she emerge. She moves with a stiff formality that might be the haughty bearing of old nobility, and might be the tell-tale signs that she hasn't taken her painkillers. Either way, she's making her slow way down the path, hoping to find the kitchen.
Breakfast is a morning subject too.
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"Good morning Taramis. I'd like some breakfast, please. I'd like some peppermint tea, and fruit, and I should have a protein or two, but please make whatever you feel like. I love trying new things." She's in a very good mood, despite the pain.
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"Good evening."
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It is a more difficult task to try and measure it: for Ali especially, time is always fluid, and at present she has almost no means of knowing how much has passed at all. Things have continued to happen, certainly, but the memories are fuzzy around the edges and often blend together into a sea of moments disconnected from their continuity.
But she isn't worrying about that right now. Tonight is Movie Night, she has been informed, and so she is making her slow way to the grand hall, where she hopes somebody will be waiting to help her find her ultimate destination. Quite to the Fashion Thing's eventual dismay, Ali has not dressed up for the occasion. There is no fancy gown or complicated costume; she's wearing jeans, and a large t-shirt, her hair is down and her feet are bare. How shocking!
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When Ali reaches the Great Hall, Matthew catches up to her, fluttering down to a landing on her shoulder. "There you are! It's almost curtains-up, kiddo, you don't want to miss the first reel!"
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The a short walk brings Ali to a room that looks to have been hastily expanded recently, the walls and ceiling pushed out and up, the floor sloped to better accommodate the chairs, and a large silver screen mounted at one end of the room. Merv Pumpkinhead and a few of his crew are currently in the process of hanging a white screen in front of it, their foreman muttering and puffing clouds of smoke all the while.
It should be little surprise that Taramis, enlisting help from That Which Waits In Darkness Below, has set up a concession stand along the rear wall, providing typical movie theater fare and far stranger treats.
Lucien is in the process of setting up the projector, and has a smudge of grease on his nose from grappling with its inner workings. How manly.
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That last is most obvious by her newest project: music lessons. Singing isn't an activity she particularly enjoys, but when one is faced with days full of nothing to do and a ready supply of talking animals, how can one resist putting one's encyclopedic knowledge of Disney songs to good use?
Let's hope nobody's planning to use the great hall for a while: Ali's got the animals lined up on the staircase, like a choir, and is currently teaching them "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes". And it's a completely random choice, really!
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