04-24-2018, 10:49 PM
kagerus
as dreams are to the sleeper, so am I to you
Indeed, Solace has not fallen victim to the winds of mutiny - for unlike many in Beqanna, she is a worthy ruler, a person of the people, and not some nameless wanna be. Until my dying breath will I support her in her role as queen, and I know that her brother Svedka and the new ambassador Ilma shall feel similarly, if not identically. Hyaline stands as a united front on the shifting political plains of Beqanna for all to see.
But despite such strong political feelings, I still find myself meandering through the river-grounds as if it is my second home. And in truth, it is; when I resurfaced post-Reckoning, it had been upon these grounds. The moist soil shifts beneath my hooves in a way that Hyaline's does not, and I relish the earthy sensation, eyes closing as the last of the autumn sun strikes my withers and poll lackadaisically.
The more one practices falling asleep, the more one is aware of that shift - aware without reawakening as the weight of sleep presses into the skull, chaining the eyelids to the cheekbones and guiding the rhythm of the breath seamlessly. In this way, Kagerus felt herself drawn off to a daydream, a smile wrapping around her dark muzzle as she realized that for once, sleep took her instead of the other way around. The dozing was pleasant for some time, as the sun warmed her back and skull; she could almost imagine Solace there next to her, a warm presence for the warm autumn evening...
Someone's here.
She lifted her sleep-bleary eyes to try and decipher the landscape: it's creation was not her own, though as her fingers curled around its shape, she knew she could easily manipulate it. She dreamt that she was a half mist, shaped as she ought to be but made up of thin water particles. This much she knew, and for now, this much she was in control of. The rest, she waited to watch unravel - but somewhere in the distance, she sensed a dream of desperate wanting, of mothers and of an unreached happiness. She'd never wanted her own mother - but the deep-seated pain left even her stoic face downtrodden.
He's close.
Shifting in this strange, ethereal body, I wander through the haze of his day dream, wondering just who I have accidentally stumbled upon with my unpredictable magic. The memory of bringing a demon into the world comes to mind, and for a moment my image stutters as my corporeal body stirs and moans, warning me and begging me to wake up for fear that this, too, is another of those times when I am not truly in control. But the mist of me reforms, and I press on.
"Hello?" Comes my lyrical voice, sounding strangely like a siren's, tempting and young and beautiful. "Who's out there?"
But despite such strong political feelings, I still find myself meandering through the river-grounds as if it is my second home. And in truth, it is; when I resurfaced post-Reckoning, it had been upon these grounds. The moist soil shifts beneath my hooves in a way that Hyaline's does not, and I relish the earthy sensation, eyes closing as the last of the autumn sun strikes my withers and poll lackadaisically.
The more one practices falling asleep, the more one is aware of that shift - aware without reawakening as the weight of sleep presses into the skull, chaining the eyelids to the cheekbones and guiding the rhythm of the breath seamlessly. In this way, Kagerus felt herself drawn off to a daydream, a smile wrapping around her dark muzzle as she realized that for once, sleep took her instead of the other way around. The dozing was pleasant for some time, as the sun warmed her back and skull; she could almost imagine Solace there next to her, a warm presence for the warm autumn evening...
Someone's here.
She lifted her sleep-bleary eyes to try and decipher the landscape: it's creation was not her own, though as her fingers curled around its shape, she knew she could easily manipulate it. She dreamt that she was a half mist, shaped as she ought to be but made up of thin water particles. This much she knew, and for now, this much she was in control of. The rest, she waited to watch unravel - but somewhere in the distance, she sensed a dream of desperate wanting, of mothers and of an unreached happiness. She'd never wanted her own mother - but the deep-seated pain left even her stoic face downtrodden.
He's close.
Shifting in this strange, ethereal body, I wander through the haze of his day dream, wondering just who I have accidentally stumbled upon with my unpredictable magic. The memory of bringing a demon into the world comes to mind, and for a moment my image stutters as my corporeal body stirs and moans, warning me and begging me to wake up for fear that this, too, is another of those times when I am not truly in control. But the mist of me reforms, and I press on.
"Hello?" Comes my lyrical voice, sounding strangely like a siren's, tempting and young and beautiful. "Who's out there?"
@[Hephaestus]
Since you mentioned daydreams, I went ahead and said he was having one now, because I've been wanting to use this approach for a while now. Also, can I say that you write so beautifully? I had to reread that post because of how many lyrical, poetic moments you had. Goddamn. Also, I have no idea about this whole zooming-out third person narrative that randomly decided to happen, so enjoy.
![[Image: kag]](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2e8039018ce4dff6112c167ec23e886a/tumblr_p72zjit7wC1s5a0qvo1_100.png)
dreamweaver