Re: [Dreams: Hannah and Rory]
There was probably reason to be jaded. Even Hannah had learned, and quickly, that the world wasn't really a place made of pastels and rainbows. People were terrible, and the government couldn't be trusted, and cruelty sprouted where she'd once believed flowers grew. There were still strong and pretty weeds that managed to shoot up between cracked bits of dreary pavement, but the world was mostly pretty as pretense, and she didn't want to be jaded. She wanted to believe, and the little old man that had set this up for her seemed lonely and sad and not evil at all. Men tended to be at their very, very worst with prostitutes, but the old man had only ever been kind.
Thoughts of the old man were obliterated with the kiss, and Hannah thought Rory handsome. She wasn't scared of him, and she didn't know about hellfire at all. But, like she'd told Claire, she was pretty sure nothing holy could hurt her, and here she was, and Rory was kissing back, and she wriggled her hip a little when he squeezed it. She nosed one last time at his cheek, and then they were inside.
She led him to a room that was even whiter than the rest, one with AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL emblazoned on multiple doorways leading inside, and there weren't needles or machines here, not really. Instead, there were two machines on opposite sides of the room. They had glowing circles high above the ground, and someone was meant to stand in each circle. In the center, there was a computer that was already up and running, and Hannah tugged Rory's hand and came to a stop in front of the futuristic computer panel. There was no keyboard, but there were letters on the flat glass surface, and the screen itself bore a CARNEM logo in bright neon blue and white.
The screen's palm-print lock had been disabled for the evening, and, when Hannah touched it, a slide of tiny squares flooded the screen. There were settings upon settings listed, and Hannah looked over her shoulder at Rory. "I don't dream, but these are preset ones, and we can pick," she told him. "We can bring our own stuff into them, I think, but the setting is chosen for us. Do you have a preference?" There were harems and film noir scenes, futuristic space settings and haunted houses, churches and neon-lit clubs. There were simple things too, like fields of flowers and empty apartments and rainy days. "I think those we fill in the most. Or, probably you will, since I don't think I can dream at all." But her expression was hopeful, and there was maybe painted on her cautious smile as she looked back at him.