(Untitled)

[heardmermaids]

Sitting outside of a vaguely European cafe, a man in his late twenties types out and anonymously posts a question to the e-version of the agora.

Forgive my misquoting du Maurier, but last night I dreamt of manticores again.

What do you dream about?

Comments

[manswolf]

Terribly boring things, presumably. I never remember them when I wake up.

[text]

[heardmermaids]

Do you mind that you don't remember?

Re: [text]

[manswolf]

Can't have been very important if my mind thought it was useless enough to discard.

[kittygetdown]

captain crunch leading a revolt and waving a blood-drenched spoon. oh, and zombies. idk why the zombies, but they were there.

that was a weird one.

[text]

[heardmermaids]

Who's Captain Crunch?

...of all the things to ask about zombies and spoons, that's the one I focus on.

[text]

[kittygetdown]

[text]

[heardmermaids]

Which was worse, the zombies or the Captain?

[listensclosely]

I don't like to talk about my dreams.

I forgot the font change code. I fail. Please help?

[text]

[heardmermaids]

No one is forcing you to.

Re: [text]

[listensclosely]

I never said anyone was. I simply stated how I felt about the matter, since you asked about dreams.

[text]

[heardmermaids]

If you don't want to talk about them, they why answer a question about them?

[one_drafted_man]

(The text message initially comes in a bit garbled and glitchy, but fortunately Xanadu intervenes and cleans it up in place.)

Sometimes I dream about what little I remember of my life before the draft. Jobs I'd worked, places I'd been. I can't remember her face, but I can still dream about being with my sister, taking care of her.

Sometimes I dream about the stuff I've been involved in, since the Nexus. Zombies and aliens, fights in steel corridors, on city streets, on islands floating in a bottomless multicolored void, the occasional person I've been able to help.

I don't know why, but I don't tend to dream all that much about the war itself. I do, however, occasionally dream that I've woken up in Blood Gulch to find that the war's still on and everything involving the Nexus and my life for the last few years has been the dream. Those are the worst of all, by far.

[thricenamed]

The strawberry blond strolls into his shop as if she owns it, looking over the wares with clear appreciation. Despite the tan (how on earth she manages to tan with her genes is anyone's guess) and the reddish tint to her hair, Sebastian can clearly add one more tick mark on his scorecard regarding a certain wizarding family.

"This is a very odd sort of shop," she announces, to whoever might care to know.

[heardmermaids]

"In comparison to..." This is Xanadu, after all.

Spread out on his workbench, there is an assortment of glass vials, bottles, goblets, and various vessels. It seems he's in the middle of some sort of experiment, although just what he's studying isn't easy to guess.

[thricenamed]

"It can't decide what it wants to be, seems like. It's interesting." She comes over. "What are you working on?"

[heardmermaids]

"Diving helmets for deep sea fish," he says helpfully. "Now, what do you need help with? All of this and the fish can wait."

Pinned up all along one wall are various diagrams and charts detailing the resonance of wizarding glass and how it does or doesn't interact with certain metals.