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[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"When I consider this carefully, I find not a single property which with certainty separates the waking state from the dream. How can you be certain that your whole life is not a dream?” --- Rene Descartes

Tuesday, June 5th
The ballroom

"She's so big now, you would not believe she was only three." I laugh as we waltz about the dance floor with a fluid grace that only he and I had together. "Oh, I visit her every now and again." Lucien assures me with his easy smile as he turns me. "You certainly have your hands full." I cannot help but laugh. "She turned the house purple, purple! Do you believe it?" "She's your daughter, I would believe anything."

The music ends and we stop to bow and curtsy to one another before applauding the band. "Shall I get us some wine my dear, before that husband of your wakes you up and steals you away?" I smirk at him and swat his arm. "Stop it. He's perfectly nice and you know it. But yes, please." I kiss his cheek and he gives me a wink before head off to find the refreshments.

With a happy sigh, I gather up my skirts and wonder where Kent got to and why on earth he would wake me up when---

Oh.

Look around and the head of long, blonde hair has disappeared. Like it always does once I realize I am dreaming. Where else would I see Lucien but in my dreams? Lucien is now just a memory, a very good one, that I can apparently make walk and talk. At least my subconscious can. Although sometimes I wonder if he's more than just a ghost in my head...

Enough speculation, for now at any rate. There are other's that are still here, that are not just memories. Those I can walk, talk and dance with, and it's more than just a memory of a friend.

"Damien?" I call out, finding a place to sit and wait as the band strikes up again. "Are you busy?" After all, what's the good of being all dressed up with no one to dance with?

Closed

Comments

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Makes feel a little better that she hugs back and says that knowing that someone else is thinking those same thoughts does make her feel better. And then she suggests we get back to dancing.

We return to the ballroom which of course has shifted to match her dress and the somewhat wilder music.

Shall we dance? Wanda asks with a smokey look as she holds out her hand.

Smile as I reach for her, "As if I would ever refuse such an invitation."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Damien takes my hand and we begin to tango. It's heated and physical... and it's just about as far as we go when I am dreaming. Ever since... well, I realized that I did not need or want any other lovers. But Damien and I had our fun in the waking world before that epiphany hit.

"So, my dear..." I say as ze takes my leg and holds it as I dip backwards. "Can you actually dance like this in the waking world?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

For a little while dancing is all we do. I leave all thinking behind me and just enjoy it. I'm glad she is still willing to dance like this with me. But She's made her choice and I will respect that. As she understood a sudden decision I made once.

Then she asks,So, my dear...Can you actually dance like this in the waking world? and I give her a frown. Not a fair question to ask me, seeing as how I haven't been able to wake up for long enough that I don't know if I'd be able to walk if I did, let alone dance.

"I didn't get that much practice at it in the waking world, seeing as how I was usually playing the music folks were dancing to. But when I did I never heard any complaints from my partners." I tell her lightly enough.

Before I had such trouble staying awake I might not have been comfortable dancing like this with anyone. (except maybe her...and only after she found out about me and proved she didn't mind) And John only really liked the country dances which were usually done in groups.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Damien's frown is rather adorable, so much so I must resist the urge to giggle and give hir a peck on the cheek.

"I didn't get that much practice at it in the waking world, seeing as how I was usually playing the music folks were dancing to. But when I did I never heard any complaints from my partners."

"I was just curious... there are very few people I knew that could dance a waltz or a swing, let alone execute a tango." I explain as the dance winds down. "Kent's not a great dancer, Dorian is usually busy and Lucien..." Dammit, getting melancholy. I was just thinking that maybe, if you were..." If what? It's been a year. A year of only talking to my friend in dreams.

"I just miss your face, okay?" I mumble, and give Damien a hug.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

The dance winds down and Wanda tries to explain what she meant. I still feel a bit upset. One of the only good bits about living in dreams is that it doesn't matter if I didn't know how to do something in the waking world, I can do it here because it's part of the dream. Here I can be taller or shorter, male or female or something else completely; I can dance or swordfight or paint a lifelike portrait or even fly. I always did love the flying.

I just miss your face, okay? Hug her back, "Miss you too," I say into her hair. And I do. I also miss lots of other people that don't really see me even when I do manage to visit their dreams.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

We just stand there for a few minutes, clinging to one another for our own reasons. The urge to dance is gone; and when I pull away, so are the other dancers and the band. The ballroom is empty except for us.

"Closing time," I sigh as I look around. "Now what do you want to do? Horse-back riding? A wander down the Seine? Picnic on the beach?" The upside to meeting in dreams... you can really go anywhere you want.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

And that really is it for the dancing this night. The ballroom is nothing more than a large, dim, empty space around us. Closing time, Now what do you want to do? Horse-back riding? A wander down the Seine? Picnic on the beach? Wanda asks me with a little sigh.

Those are all nice options and I think we've probably done most if not all of them one time or another. Though none of them really appeals to me right now. Guess I'm still stuck on the thought of flying. Oh. Wonder if maybe Wanda would like that?

Grin at her and say, "How about we go flying round some mountains?" Let my wings gently unfurl to show her what I mean. Think I can hear a train whistle in the background but I ignore it for the moment. (Please don't let it be Messenger come to summon me off to deal with another dream crisis!)

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

Damien ponders our options, and none of them seem to suit. But ze grins...

And then there are wings. Big. Wings. "Oh that's cool!" I breathe out, impressed. "Flying... okay." Around mountains. Tall mountians I am sure. Up high. "Right." Try to dream myself up a set of my own wings. And Try.

And... try.

Nope. I am dreaming and generally not afraid of heights when dreaming consciously, but my mind can't seem to wrap my imagination around being able to fly.

Laugh a little and shake my head as I circle my arms around Damien's neck. "You have to promise not to let go." Because I really don't want to find out if you die in the waking world if you die in dreams... my dreams are far too real for my comfort.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Wanda looks impressed with my wings and I make a mental note to fly in next visit. She sounds a bit doubtful about the flying and after a moment she laughs and puts her arms around my neck.

My idea had been for both of us to fly each with our own set of wings but if Wanda wants me to carry her I will not complain. "Of course." I promise as I scoop her up into my arms. "I would never do that to you."

Head out to the balcony where there is now a lovely high range of mountains. with a nice set of thermals so we can climb and drift with a spectacular view. Drop gently off the balcony and then we can get some air and climb. As I turn us in a wide circle round the mountain, I can hear Messenger's whistle get closer and even see the sun glint off their shiny metal skin. Guess we only get enough time for one turn round the mountain and then I'll have to go.

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I manage not to 'squeak' when we drop off the balcony. Or scream. My eyes might be shut though. Tightly, at least for the first few minutes. When my heart stops thundering in my ears and I realize we are going up and not plummeting to our doom, I pry my eyes open.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful (http://nature.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/60697/)..." I breathe out, and then I lose the ability to speak for quite some time. I get lost in the air and the colors and we're flying!

But a funny sound keeps breaking into my amazement, and it's finally distracting enough that I scan the landscape looking for it.

"Damien... is that a train?" I ask, watching a line of silver make it's way rapidly up the mountain.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Can feel Wanda's fingers digging into my skin as we leave the balcony and I think her eyes might be closed. My wings catch the air and we rise and then her reaction to the experience and the sight of the landscape beneath is everything I could have wished. And the feel of her, resting in my arms while taking it all in makes me feel happier than I have been in a long time.

Damien... is that a train? She asks and I am reminded how short this (and any time) of happiness is. Look down at Messenger's progress up the winding trail. Soon enough they'll probably be reaching the mountaintop and will be expecting me to meet them there.

"Yes," I sigh, "Unfortunately. Which means that I shall have to leave shortly. But not until I have got you safely to the top of the mountain."

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

"Yes, Unfortunately. Which means that I shall have to leave shortly. But not until I have got you safely to the top of the mountain."

It seems our limited time together is drawing to a close. Damien slowly circles downward, and when we land it is at a small train station (http://www.flickr.com/photos/cemeteryrodeo/2048255945/). A silver train awaits us, rumbling in an insistent manor on the tracks, steam billowing around us. Damien gives me a lingering hug, then is off with the train.

And here I am, sitting on a bench in a empty train station, on top of a mountain. Well, since I am dreaming...

Whistle loudly and call out in a sing-song voice for Cerebus. I am sure we can find a stick around here somewhere to play fetch with until it's time to wake up.