I Moderate (i_moderate) wrote in we_archive, @ 2005-12-30 21:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | dream of the endless, stephen strange |
i_weavedreams I Walk These Empty Streets [Open]
Across the City, a thousand sleeping souls suddenly cried out as a blackness filled their dreams. The disruption was violent, but short-lived, and most of the dreamers dreamed on, waking up the next morning with no recollection of what had happened. Some were startled to full waking, and drifted back to sleep not long after. A handful resigned themselves to what sleep they had already gotten, and remained awake for the remainder of the night.
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In the Dreaming, Lord Morpheus swept down the halls of his palace. A black cloak billowed behind him, the ends flickering with flames, and no sign of his consternation on his face. He went immediately to the outer walls of the castle, the halls and archways moving to accomodate his path.
At the balcony, Morpheus leaned over the low stone wall, one hand slipping into the leather drawstring pouch that was always at his hip, thin fingers nestling into and shifting through the sand it held. After several moments, still looking over the shifting landscape that lay beyond the borders of the Dreaming, he spoke. "Matthew."
A raven perched nearby, responded. "I'm here."
"Have Lucien take stock of the castle, and the inhabitants of the Dreaming. I wish to know if anyone is missing, and I wish to know where they all are."
The raven nodded. "Okay, boss. But, can't you do that kind of thing yourself?"
Morpheus turned his head slightly, shining eyes locking on the black-plumed bird. "There are other matters to occupy my attentions, Matthew." His head turned back to the horizon.
The raven watched the landscape shift and ebb, and understanding dawned. "Boss? That ain't you changing things, is it?"
The King of Dreams was silent for a long stretch. "No, Matthew."
The bird nodded. "Alright. I'm going." He took to his wings and flew towards the castle windows.
"Thank you." Dream watched the shifting landscape a bit longer, then adjusted his clothing to less regal attire. He needed to see this world, this City that his realm was being restricted to.
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Morpheus turned up the collar of his coat, against the winds. It wasn't quiet - not that he expected it to be - but the noise did little to trouble him. He could sense many souls in this City, and several of the ones he sensed...
The Prince of Stories frowned. It was unsettling. Very unsettling. He stopped in his tracks on the side of the street, and looked over the shifting buldings with a troubled expression on his pale face.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 11:04:03
And one of the many sleepless souls that evening was the illustrious master of astral appearance, Dr. Strange. Who, despite his better judgment after playing witness to the gunfire in the streets, was out in his corporeal form.
It was those damn shifting buildings. Shifting, changing, moving around. He kept losing himself and his location. One minute he was barely ten feet in front of the building that played the role of his home back in New York, and the next he found himself standing beside a corner drugstore. And even though he could find his way back through a simple means of one spell or incantation or another, it was getting tiring. And he was beginning to think that he just might be better off going out solely in astral form.
But then he'd starve to death within the walls of his inner sanctum.
And so he made the unconscious decision to enter a small diner across the street, dropping the few books he had -- which had yet to help him in his quest to figure out the workings behind the City -- on top of the counter, and slid into one of those twirly chairs.
"What can I getcha?" the hostess asked, pulling a pen out from the curly bun on her head and smacking a piece of gum in her mouth like a cow.
Strange paused for a moment, peering out the glass windows of the little restaurant.
"Coffee. Black."
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 12:12:49
There was a pattern to this. There was always a pattern. Even in the shifting and falling of sand.
Morpheus sought the pattern. Reached for it with his will, but it was evading him. But the force of his will did allow him to move somewhat easily through the streets. He focused on a soul that was resonating to him, and found himself at an eatery - a small diner. He walked inside and sat at the counter, looking over the .
The waitress set down a mug of coffee in front of the gentleman seated at the table, and then turned toward the King of Dreams, gum still smacking in her teeth. "You okay there, mister? You look sick or somethin'."
Dream shook his head. "No, I am not sick."
"You always that pale?"
"It would depend on who else is watching." He tilted his head slightly. "May I also have a mug of coffee?"
"Oh!" The girl nodded, and turned to fill the order, still muttering to herself.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 20:18:25
Strange glanced down at the mug when the waitress plopped it before him. He canted his head to the side. It had a peculiar darkness to it. He brought it to his lips in a light sip. And a thick consistency, as if it had been sitting too long in the coffeemaker. Leftover from yesterday's batch, perhaps? It was also sour. Too sour. But somehow fitting.
Curiosity caused him to lift his head at the sound of the newcomer and for a long moment Strange just stared at him. A stare that reflected some sort of familiarity from the man before him. Similar to when he encountered Death. There was something about him that made him want to go digging through his antiques and books and ancient relics to find the answer before it was given to him.
He didn't think him all that pale. Just accented by the black hair.
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 20:56:37
He was given a mug, and wrapped his fingers around the warm porcelain. It was the scent of the drink, the depth of the texture that he liked. Then, Morpheus felt eyes on him, and turned his head.
The man -- the mage, he corrected himself -- was staring. Dream focused his own eyes back on his. After a moment, he spoke.
"Yes, magician?"
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 21:04:16
Strange straightened his sitting posture a bit, lacking that hunch over the coffee mug that he had been nursing before. He was without his maroon cloak this evening. Simple in a black turtleneck and black slacks. Very retro mod. But he still had that Eye hovering over his chest.
Magician. Without the funny top hat and the white rabbits. And the cards he carried weren't adorned with spades and clubs.
"You look--"
As everyone else did.
"--as though you're far from home."
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 21:20:44
Interestingly, a smile touched the Dreamlord's face. "No," he said. "My home is never far."
Only once, had the Dreaming been too far for him. One long stretch of years, a human lifetime wherein he was imprisoned. Even if his control was limited, his range restricted, he was still in constant connection with the Heart of the Dreaming. For now, it was enough.
"But where is yours?"
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 21:32:49
"Momentarily displaced," Strange replied without hesitation as he brought that coffee mug to his lips in a quick sip, regretting it afterwards but attempting to hide his discontent from the waitress who was shuffling back and placing the pie menu in front of them. Just in case they changed their minds and wanted something else to go along with their used motor oil beverage.
He tapped a few fingers along the counter's edge.
"I'd appreciate being pointed in the right direction."
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 22:10:56
"To your abode, within this City?" The King of Dreams sat quietly for a moment, looking into his mug of coffee. After a time, he looked back up. "That boon, I can grant, magician. But for what reason?"
He reached into the leather bag at his side, and drew forth a pinch of sand. Releasing it from his fingers, the grains sparkled and dipped into his mug. Immediately, the aroma was richer, darker, and there was no grimace to hide as Dream took a sip.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 22:36:51
"No, not within this City. That I can find if I need to. When I want to."
Strange gave the pastry menu a cursory glance before pushing it to the side, in the event that the other man wished to look it over.
"I would much rather be directed towards my real home. The one I was removed from without warning."
He had business to attend to there. Work that needed to be done. And although he had proved himself to be useful here, this wasn't where he belonged.
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 23:01:43
"I see."
Morpheus reached out to the limits of his realm of influence, but hit a limit. It galled him, but he gave no sign. No one could know, after all.
"And you feel that I not only could, but should grant this request." The Dreamlord looked again at his beverage companion. "You would not think to ask her," he continued, motioning towards the waitress. "But you know me enough to ask something such as this?"
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/01/2006 23:42:17
"I have asked nothing of you. I am merely making conversation on a topic you have chosen."
He paused and gave the man an inquisitive stare.
"And I don't think you could grant that request, even if you wanted to."
He reached into his pockets and removed a few coins. Where they came from he wasn't entirely sure, but he knew they'd be enough to suit the waitress' fancy. He placed them on the counter near his barely touched coffee mug.
"Your sisters are here, you know."
Yes, this time Strange had done his homework. Researched as thoroughly as he could after his encounter with Death.
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/01/2006 23:47:56
Dream was silent as the man spoke until his final words. At the mention of his sisters, the King of Dreams rose to his feet, his careful clothing spilling into a cloak of night, with flames that flickered at the bottom. His eyes fell on the mage, and suddenly, Dream was looming over him, his voice restrained.
"Tell me whom you speak of, magician. And tell me quickly."
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/02/2006 10:03:03
Strange quirked a singular brow up into his forehead, seemingly unmoved by the sudden intensity that came with the man's disposition. Although he did give a suspicious glance towards the flames at the end of his cloak, and was thankful that he hadn't decided to wear his own that evening.
Fire and long dress garbs never went hand-in-hand very well. So far as Strange was concerned.
"Death and Delirium."
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/02/2006 10:44:57
The Lord Shaper gazed long and hard into the man's eyes until, satisfied the magician was telling the truth, he withdrew. "You've spoken with them."
A wave of his fingers, and a few grains of sand drifted into Strange's coffee mug, changing it into a richer, much more satisfying blend. A small thing, but a thanks nevertheless.
"Both are within this City?" He spoke the words aloud, though he seemed to be withdrawing back into himself. He took his seat again, though his clothing was still the regalia of his office.
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/02/2006 16:31:55
Strange gave the once less-than-mediocre cup of a coffee a new interest after the man dropped the few grains of sand into it. The aroma instantly became much more appealing, but he didn't take a sip. Not yet.
"Yes. Both of them are."
But as of yet those were the only two that Strange had the coincidence to run into.
"I spoke with Death. Conversation with Delirium, however.."
Well, she wasn't exactly one for easy speaking.
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/02/2006 17:54:01
"...is not an easy feat for those not within her realm of influence." Dream nodded. "I understand, magician."
Reaching into dreams, Morpheus produced a few bills that he laid on the countertop. "Thank you for the information."
From: [info]i_estrange Date: 01/02/2006 18:10:25
"You're most welcome, of course," Strange replied, reaching out to lift his mug. He brought the coffee to his lips, pausing to savor the new aroma. Then he took a sip.
He paused before speaking again. Idly wondering if that waitress did know something more than she let on in appearance.
"I hope it was useful."
From: [info]i_weavedreams Date: 01/03/2006 12:26:25
"It was."
Morpheus bowed his head to the magician in thanks, and pulled his cloak around him. There was a shimmer in the air, and then the King of Dreams was gone.