Who: Ed and Lindsey Where: Bellum LeTale Dreamscape What: A dream, silly When: After the flurry of activity surrounding Holly's arrival in P2 (and Jude's disappearance) and after this. Warnings: None expected.
It was perfectly normal and yet it made no sense. Not past or present or certifiable as never was. A perfectly normal nonsense that threatened to rip the fabric of the night and expose the absence of light for what it was…
It was a small stage surrounded by velvet nothing where there should have been row upon row of enraptured listeners. But that hardly seemed to matter. The cavernous space was filled with the angry thunder that came from somewhere within the deceptively refined looking baby grand. The man at the keys was barely a man. Not just because he was fresh-faced and lanky, only his eyes betraying the aged soul that strained mortality as it wrestled with the melody that would not be coaxed. But also because he was barely corporeal, the black of his clothes fading into the velvet nothing that framed him. If one stopped to watch and listen, one might get the feeling that he was not wholly real—that only the melody and the piano from which it came, were worthy of that description. The more he played the less corporeal he seemed.