Lucid Dreaming

Lucid Dreaming

Postby Mildred » Tue Jan 31, 2012 1:48 pm

((This is really just a beginning, and a framework, for things that are going on in the world of Millie. It probably won't make much sense for awhile, as it involves a wierd meta-plot between two of my own characters, but that's ok, and even intended to some extent. I just wanted to get this first bit out in a friendly atmosphere, as I'm really enjoying the plot that triggered my return to this, and hope it turns into something ongoing.))

Entry into the dream was the worst part of the ordeal.

In the period of vague thought before the dreamscape coalesced, that was the first lie Mildred decided she'd convey if she ever in a fit of madness decided to record these dimwitted sleep-adventures. Her feet moved on their own as the green grass sprang up around them, towards a row of stone columns in the distance, strange and broken. The path was faintly silvered in spaces, though she hardly needed the subtle pull of it anymore to know exactly where she was headed.

In fact, if her subconcious had decided to reveal to her that she'd been travelling this same path for centuries, it would hardly have come as a surprise. She may have come to believe the living force was possessed of a wretched sense of humor, however.

The path ended, predictably, at the foot of one of the columns. Heavily weathered, rubble from the original structure was scattered all around, overgrown with plantlife. Scanning the area, Mildred's eyes landed on a freakish little creature of grey, black and white, slung low to the ground and maybe about the size of a large womprat.

Also, it was staring at her.

She stared at it.

It stared at her.

"D'you like him? I was thinking about naming him something stuffy and Imperial, since he's kind of a grouch, but the more I think about it, the more I think 'Stanley' would be more fitting".

Mildred's hood blocked a full view of the infernal voice's source as her gaze tracked upward, allowing Stanley to win the contest of wills. She did hope the glare from its shadow conveyed the correct aura of menace, however much it would be lost on its sole target. One heel dug the ground, fighting the tendency to give space as the young Mirialan vaulted to the ground. Almost ridiculously slim, the other's jovial crimson gaze might have been a tipoff to darkside tendencies in any other race...in her case, it just seemed...fitting, and slightly less odd than the subtle cast of violet over moss-green hair, caught up into a messy tail. Twin hilts hung at her hips, empty.

Mildred's mouth dropped into a small, disapproving frown. "It's ridiculous. More than that, irrelevant". She turned her back on the green one, beginning a slow track along the row of columns. To any other, it would have been meant as an insult...a suggestion that she was quite certain that her opponent was not a threat. Aienn, however, simply slipped into step beside her. The silence between them stretched, just short of companionable until Mildred broke the silence. "Your master has appraised you of your situation, I assume". A clipped tone, reluctant.

A small rock skipped away from the toe of Aienn's boot. "Yep. Well...he's not my master just yet. Paperwork and all that...you understand. Haha...did he really give you a key?"

The Sith's robes rustled with her shrugging motion, "There was little reason to correct him. Let him stew in his assumptions".

She felt, more than saw, the other's grin.
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Mildred
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