Re: gatsby: mingmei + solas
[For a long moment, he was quiet, with the air of someone who wasn't interested in divulging secrets. Then, softly, he spoke.]
In my world, there is a place, if you will, called the Fade. It is where we go in dreams. A place where will is made manifest. When you dream in certain places, the spirits gather, and you can see the history of it. I dreamed of a savage human horde marching toward the battlefront.
[His eyes grew unfocused, as though recalling an old memory, and he lifted his hands. With light and smoke, he crafted an army in his palm, and they marched from the heel of his hand to the tips of his fingers, falling into mist when they stepped from his flesh.]
They sang a soldier's hymn to keep formation. The primal music shook the ground. [The misty men's mouths moved, and the air around them thrummed with a strange energy. Not sound, not song. Something else.] These savage, unwashed warriors crafted harmonies no Chantry choir has mastered. Though their cause was all but hopeless, they sang songs that made the spirits weep.