Repose

Who: Hannah and Rory
What: Dreaming
Where: The Dream Clinic in the Capital
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Who knows what lives in these dreams

Hannah was a little bit nervous. She hadn't ever been in a dream, and she'd never had one of her own, and this was going to be her first time. She was excited, but she was nervous too, and she arrived at the Dream Clinic late, after they'd closed and when no one was inside and looking to dream dreams.

She had a key, and she fingered it where it rested in her pocket. She'd earned the key, and she had it for tonight and tonight only. She knew how to run the machines, and she knew what not to do, and the gift-giver had already set up a few dreams, predetermined ones that anyone could enter. It was the cheapest way to do it, but Hannah didn't care. A dream was a dream was a dream, and she wanted to become lost in one. It was something really, really human to her. It was something denied her, and it was something she wanted to experience. She knew what it was to sleep. She needed sleep, and that was something in her programming, but there was nothing when she slept. Dreams seemed like books with spines cracked open and the words projected onto the mind, and she maybe had a really pretty view of what happened when people's eyes closed and their subconsciousness ran free.

She didn't have a subconscious, or at least she didn't think she did, and she was going to borrow one tonight. She didn't want to do it alone, and Rory was coming, and she waited out back, at the door that the employees used. She had a key, and she had a code, and the bag she had slung over her shoulder contained instructions for everything else, just in case she forgot. She was dressed in grey, hair loose and black pumps on her feet, but she thought maybe that wouldn't matter even a little bit, and she leaned back against the stone wall with stars in her eyes.

Who: Nishka (Loki) and Ragnar
What: Nish attempts to take control again, and ends up making very bad decisions
Where: The Cat
When: Recently
Rating: most probably high

( She’d been taking back the reigns slowly, in increments, like a child dipping toes into the swimming pool... )

[Public]

no poetry

no sales pitches

no bordellos

There are times when I see the kind of old I want to be. Like Dorothy who does a wicked plié at seventy with flexibility I only dream of still having at forty. What's on your 'fabulous after fifty' list, the stuff you want to be when you're too old to give a crap?

Who: Frank and Louis
What: Frank is looking to do some decorating.
Where: The Antique Store
When: Monday afternoon
Rating: Low

( I love things that have history...things that are well used but also well cared for. )