Seaside Moors cause taking you to another landscape is my mandate.
ᴀ ᴠᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴏғ ғᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇs
sᴍᴀsʜᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ
248 Posts
Ooc — daphne
Away
#2
backdated to thread's original date. dreams are exaggeratingly written with wordplay and fantasy elements on account of them being a dreams. anyway sorry this took so long, havent felt motivated to write out her dreams for some reason l-o-l 

she slept deeply, straddled by her mother, who every night defended her unconscious body from any harm. harm that could come for like it may have come for thade. in a mortise lock of doting closeness, the girl's impregnable head tucked between wylla's black forelegs, the woman embraced her most bijou and lastborn child. the hide of a blacktail deer lay beneath them to absorb future accidents. of that there had been many, and their hearthstone couldn't take another night of a child's enuresis. it already strongly suggested it was an outhouse rather than a shelter, but there was little to be done about it. 

it was on the hour when her mind began playing the reels in her head that sowed terror and stirrings, screamings and sleepwetting. her breath sighed, became shallower.

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she was trapped in the mouth of some mysticeti netherbeast, it's saliva pooling in around toes curled with dread. its tongue undulated in gulping motions, coaxing her down its throat—an abyss of blackness that would swallow her into the underbelly of her subliminal mind; an infernal purgatory that harboured her fears and all manner of mindly appalments.

the dread welled into her like spilled ink bleeding through diarized parchment. her lungs were two quills beholden to an inkpot, tipped over and spilled into some phaedra-shaped pareidolia, a rorschach depiction of her; endless whispers making interpretations of her, not in her ears but ugly, graven images impressed upon her soul. she felt a scream catalyze, fit to leap from her throat, when she was abruptly given pith to a course— 

none of this made any sense. from her waking memory a lockstep tongue remembered its ritualized verse—"i'm dreaming! i'm not GOING!" she blurted without any trace of her impediment. the truth of her words spindled onto the ink-strew isabelline. "spit. me. out!

after making her demand, she shut her eyes and when they opened again, phaedra was alone in the dark. heart beating fast as a hummingbird's wings, pounding so pronounced; it felt as if the final bars of some percussionist's magnum opus were being played beneath her breastbone. she had to suppress her excitement or she would awaken. she grounded herself, and took a deep, steadying breath. 

alone, yes, for now. but not for long. a constellation of blue wisps seemed to take special interest in her and wreathed her in a haloing of light, forging themselves as a beautifully lucent path of lodestars, leading her somewhere she did not know. nonetheless she followed, yes— at the insistence of her soul. 

she watched each foothold like she was bound at any moment to fall into a crevice, but each step she took was lit up by the spindrift of some gilt-edged smoke. she danced around, whipping up a nebulae of fluorescence that limned her pudgy figure. when she laughed, the wisps silhouetted her in a beautiful prismatism, fairy-lights ensconcing her outline and predicting every dither.

she giggled, following this predestined terrace with the scintillant farblichter as they escorted her through the dark. then, they drew her to a sight that made her gasp under her breath with wonder.

a fissure that shimmered and danced on an impalpable breeze—like a chiffon curtain mantling a cracked-open window during dayspring, glowing like a summer peach. her eyes glittered with mesmerism.   

the moment she made the decision to travel over it felt as though she had just insinuated herself into someone else's mind, slipping through a tear in the fabric of an eavesdropped-on dream. this darkness did not feel scary or needle her with dread, but a strange intimacy was expressed upon her the moment she crossed. 

her pathmakers had disappeared, and she was left in this uncharted dark. "where you go? farblichter?" she called, wandering aimlessly until she saw a flit of golden light in the far distance. "die sonne?" she breathed.

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Messages In This Thread
RE: cause taking you to another landscape is my mandate. - by Phaedra - July 06, 2020, 06:35 PM