Logs:It's Bigger On The Inside
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| RL Date: 20 April, 2015 |
| Who: Laine, Lifreyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: The night after Impression. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 7, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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| She dreamt, that first night, once exhaustion dragged her away from Lifreyth's wallow and onto her bed too tired even to crawl under the blanket, of a library she'd never seen. It was a maze of vaulting ceilings, dusty shelves heavy with books, and oak cabinets paned with glass doors. Books with leatherbound spines cracked and pages dogeared lay splayed on every available surface. In every room a clock, ticking with the low, steady wub-wub of a heartbeat. As she drifted through the hushed space, that pulse followed closely--so closely that once or twice, she turned, expecting to see something behind her. But Laine was alone. She was drawn to the curio and trinkets that smattered shelves and tabletops. Pausing, here, to tap at a kinetic bronze sculpture that whirled planets into orbit; there, to smooth a fingertip along a translucent globe alight with a purple electric energy that sought out her touch. When she lifted a heavy jar to inspect the blue liquid sloshing and the lumpy pink mass inside, she saw movement behind her in the reflection off the glass. She whirled, nearly dropping the jar. That metered clock skipped, once, and quickened. Even as she struggled awake against the lull of sleep, Laine thought she could hear a breathless chuckle. That library dissolved around her, and she glimpsed--for an instant, as she knuckled her tired eyes--a swatch of black sky peppered with sparkling, laughing white stars. He was there when she woke. That awareness scampered at the edges of her consciousness, neither presumptuous nor obtrusive, like a pulsing current of energy or the gentle ticking of a clock. « Morning. » Pithy. Cheeky. Expectant. « Did you sleep well? » Laine propped herself forward on her elbows with her blankets crumpled at her feet. Across from her, the perceptive pinstriped brown lounged on his couch, his sinuous tail swinging rhythmically like a pendulum. « Since you're up... » The hopeful touch of his mind was a puff of dust, as though blown off an old tomb. Itch. It made Laine scrub at her nose and vigorously scratch her thigh. The way his jaw hung open, teeth flashing white, she might swear he was grinning. |
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Comments
Edyis (16:23, 20 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Oh my, this was epic.
Faryn (16:51, 20 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. I love this and I love Lif and I love everything.
Roz (17:00, 20 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
I love it! I love the library. <3
Alida (00:28, 21 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Woo! Nice (and delightful) look inside! :D
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