what dreams may come

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

Morning, Wednesday September 17
Valmont and Hermia's apartment

Something is not right.

I feel it as soon as I wake up. Something…off. Like a note being played out of tune, over and over, jangling against the edges of my mind.

And then I step out of bed, and do not touch the ground.

I'm floating.

I sit swiftly back down on the bed before I fall - and, yes, I sit on the bed. That works. All right, now back out…one foot, and then the other…

…and I float again. Just a few inches above the ground, but most definitely floating.

Nothing else in the room is floating. Valmont is still there in the bed - and thank all the gods that he's all right! And Nestor is curled up in his corner, flailing away in some strange kitten-dream, but there and safe.

Chester, I think, sending out the signal as my fingers worry at the gold band on my wrist. Something is wrong.

I fall back onto the bed and reach over to shake Valmont's shoulder. "Darling," I whisper urgently. "Wake up."


[Open to Valmont first, then Glass, Chester, and anyone else in the vicinity of the Whitechapel]

Comments

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

...Wednesdays. Right, then.

"I know," I say to her word on my daughter, and it's a relief to call it truth. Follow her gaze up to the windows and consider.

"Well," I say, "can you hurt yourself, if you fall?" Worth trying, if not.

"H'lo folks," someone says low to the ground, and I look down.

"Morning, Chester. You some mind for why dreams'd be tearing themselves up over to the waking world?"

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

I can sense Chester's arrival even before he appears, and I'm already breathing out a sigh of relief when he says, "H'lo folks,"

I bend awkwardly down, half stooping and half kneeling, to reach my arms out to him. I feel as if I should wobble, but I do not - and yet I do not want to try to kneel on the air either for fear that I would fall. "Chester! Oh, I'm glad you're here! Yes - there seems to be something amiss with dreams," I agree to Glass. "Have you heard anything, seen anything, that might suggest what's happening?"

[chester-excolo.livejournal.com]

Glass is the first to say somethin' an it takes me a moment to sort out what she's askin'. Then Hermia is bendin' down to reach out to me and I scoot on over to her.

Now that I'm here I c'n feel the way the dreams're bleedin' out into this realm. I shake my head in answer to Hermia's question. Things're fine over in the elemental planes. I look over to Glass.

"Someone mighta torn a hole 'tween the dreamrealm n'this one."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Have you heard anything, seen anything, that might suggest what's happening?"

"Nothing particular," I say, turning matters over to my mind. "Sets out why this," gesture to the feathers of my cloak, "isn't hiding me from sight, though." That was only ever something it did in the waking world. And, considering, sets out why it's warm as blood. That's what wove it up, after all (http://estdeus-innobis.livejournal.com/467504.html#t11724080).