![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[OPEN DREAM ACTION]
A woman's face is visible, shrouded by verdant leaves. Her skin is dark and woodgrained, her eyes sightless and slanted at the edges, and she holds a mirror in one hand. There is a mirror at her feet as well, rippling faintly-- a pool of water ringed with red stones on which you stand, and in it two figures are reflected. There is a young man-- battered and beaten, pale skin a harsh contrast to the sickly lavender and yellow bruises, and the deep stygian black of his robes. Patera Silk, with his unruly straw-colored hair. He's bending to kiss a dark-haired woman, whose delicate hand is stretched across his chest to grasp his shoulder. But, though the reflection remains-- is fixed there on the surface of the ornamental pond, indelible-- no one sits above it.
"Caldé!" someone cries in the distance, and turning, you see what might once have been a pretty young girl. She's clearly malnourished; dressed in rags, her hair unkempt and matted, hanging down her bony back. Beside her stands a tall, silver cat, whose tufted ears curve up like the horns of a crescent moon.
Silk is standing beside the pool, suddenly; leaning heavily on a staff. Vines curl around it, laden with small, purple flowers; they brush his hand, and he takes no heed.
"Your brother Lion missed you," the ghastly girl says, grinning her corpse's grin, her hollow eyes distant and dull. The lynx yawns, and pads toward the augur, its massive paws deceptively gentle in the delicate grass. Silk bends to speak to it as though it were a child.
Suddenly the sun above flares, and for a moment it stretches across the sky, a blinding band of brilliance running east to west, too bright to see anything by. It fades almost immediately, shrinking back to a point of brilliance.
The lush garden around you is burning; the brush surrounding the woman's statue is swiftly consumed, and very soon she begins to burn as well, her mirror falling away. It shatters, shards scattered among the browning grass.
Silk strikes the ground with his staff, once, and the fire fades away.
[ooc: OPEN TO ALL COMERS, whether you know him or not, &c. Multiple people are welcome, either threadjacking or different continuities or whatever, sob, Silk's dreams are crazy love ♥ ♥ ♥]
A woman's face is visible, shrouded by verdant leaves. Her skin is dark and woodgrained, her eyes sightless and slanted at the edges, and she holds a mirror in one hand. There is a mirror at her feet as well, rippling faintly-- a pool of water ringed with red stones on which you stand, and in it two figures are reflected. There is a young man-- battered and beaten, pale skin a harsh contrast to the sickly lavender and yellow bruises, and the deep stygian black of his robes. Patera Silk, with his unruly straw-colored hair. He's bending to kiss a dark-haired woman, whose delicate hand is stretched across his chest to grasp his shoulder. But, though the reflection remains-- is fixed there on the surface of the ornamental pond, indelible-- no one sits above it.
"Caldé!" someone cries in the distance, and turning, you see what might once have been a pretty young girl. She's clearly malnourished; dressed in rags, her hair unkempt and matted, hanging down her bony back. Beside her stands a tall, silver cat, whose tufted ears curve up like the horns of a crescent moon.
Silk is standing beside the pool, suddenly; leaning heavily on a staff. Vines curl around it, laden with small, purple flowers; they brush his hand, and he takes no heed.
"Your brother Lion missed you," the ghastly girl says, grinning her corpse's grin, her hollow eyes distant and dull. The lynx yawns, and pads toward the augur, its massive paws deceptively gentle in the delicate grass. Silk bends to speak to it as though it were a child.
Suddenly the sun above flares, and for a moment it stretches across the sky, a blinding band of brilliance running east to west, too bright to see anything by. It fades almost immediately, shrinking back to a point of brilliance.
The lush garden around you is burning; the brush surrounding the woman's statue is swiftly consumed, and very soon she begins to burn as well, her mirror falling away. It shatters, shards scattered among the browning grass.
Silk strikes the ground with his staff, once, and the fire fades away.
[ooc: OPEN TO ALL COMERS, whether you know him or not, &c. Multiple people are welcome, either threadjacking or different continuities or whatever, sob, Silk's dreams are crazy love ♥ ♥ ♥]
