Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Tel'aran'rhiod and Portal Worlds
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Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Craig » Fri Jun 09, 2017 4:56 pm

Zarayne
Home.

Home was, is, and always would be the house that her mother owned in Shienar. It was modest, with three rooms downstairs and two up. The dark wood had always seemed supernatural in some way. Sometimes Zarayne thought the house was wrought from Avendesora, as if the roots stretched all of the way from the heart of the Threefold Land into northern Shienar. In the dream it seemed polished like a mirror, reflecting the flat snowy plain that endlessly surrounded it. Warm light shone in the downstairs window. Mother had the fire on. The thought of warmth and her mother drew Zarayne indoors.

She was sat in front of the fireplace, cooking in the heat. She was inside Avendesora, baking under the same sun as her people. Shienar never felt anything approaching an Andoran summertime, let alone the extreme temperatures of her homeland, but the fire was as close as she came. Her dress changed as soon as she thought about it. Gone was the banded white dress; in came a cadin'sor, cut and sewn in the way of the Chumai Sept of the Taardad Aiel. Wetlanders never saw such nuances but she did.

Mother sat nearby, sewing a green shawl whilst singing. Zarayne hummed the tune, her voice not as perfect as Sinead's.

Life is a dream / That knows no shade
Life is a dream / Of pain and woe
A dream from which / We pray to wake
A dream from which / We wake and go


"Why are you singing that?" Zarayne turned from the fire, seeing a look of sadness upon her mother's face. "What's the matter?"

"I miss you Zarayne," Sinead replied in a voice so soft it seemed like a whisper.

Zarayne smiled sorrowfully. "I miss you too, Mother."

Together they took up the song's next verse:

Who would sleep / When the new dawn waits?
Who would sleep / When the sweet winds bow?
A dream must end / When the new day comes
This dream from which / We wake and go
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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Damon » Sat Jun 10, 2017 7:19 pm

Olin

Olin floated in the void filled with stars. He had come here to float in the disembodied piece, and to feel the connection that this place brought to him. As he brushed his mind against the stars he moved through the great darkness as a hawk might fly over the plains.

Each light appeared identical, but he could immediately pick out a few dreams no matter where he was in this strange plain of stars. Some were shaded in Grey or Red, nightmares which he had learned to avoid after speaking with Amadie Sedai. Some where shaded by an obscuring mist, or an invisible wall he could not pierce, those were the dreams warded by Saidin or Saidar.

But for some reason, a nearby dream echoed as he brushed his mind softly against it, meaning to peer into it.

Flick

Who would sleep / When the new dawn waits?
Who would sleep / When the sweet winds bow?
A dream must end / When the new day comes
This dream from which / We wake and go

The words, filled with love and emotion drew Olin in towards the house that sat upon an unfamiliar landscape. The world was light with the same constant light as Tel'aran'rhiod, but as he approached the house, he noticed the details seemed fuzzy and vague, but the music was coming in clear as his own breath, and so he soon found himself at the edge of a pool of firelight, watching a woman knit as a young woman in unfamiliar garb sang.

I'm in a dream, light I must be in one of their dreams. But which, and to dream of home with such longing, thought Olin to himself, his garb changing to riding gear for just a moment before he shook himself, concentrating on his oneness, on maintaining his separation from the dream that surrounded him.
"That's right, there's free beer in Irish paradise. Everyone's jealous.” --Kevin Hearne, Hammered

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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Craig » Mon Jun 12, 2017 3:51 am

<< Why Should It Be A Secret?
Zarayne
To wake and go. Zarayne was only vaguely aware that she was dreaming, lost in that fuzzy state of suspended belief. If she concentrated then she could wake up, although it was likely the middle of the night. Remorseful as this was, dreaming of her old home was better than waking up to an empty and cold room.

The fire was warm, at least to her mind. A different warmth also sustained her: love. Mother still hummed the tune as she sewed, the green shawl never expanding in size. She would weave forever in the dream, caught in the moment, just as she was in Zarayne's memory.

The Aiel turned back towards the fire, somehow knowing that Mother had vanished behind her. The fire was the only thing Zarayne focused on, feeling its warmth suffuse through her. Only in the extreme cold of the Borderlands could one truly appreciate the heat. The same could not be said within the Grey Tower. The weather, which ever changing, never saw the extreme cold of Shienar, not the sweltering heat of the Waste.

The fire grew hot. Zarayne rose to her feet, taking a step back, but the heat didn't lessen. The living room of her house was gone, replaced by a large wooden-walled room. For a moment it was unfamiliar, until it wasn't. Flame crept along the ceiling and floorboards towards her like a stalking wolf. She hopped backwards from the approaching flames, eyes going wide as she recalled this horror. When I was young I engulfed a house in flames. Her cadin'sor shimmered, changed, exposed the burns that covered her chest and forearms. She collapsed backwards as her skin blistered again, old wounds remembering the pain afresh. Panic beat in her heart. This is a dream. A dream! But she couldn't awake, couldn't control her actual body through the pain she was suffering in the dream. She kicked against the floorboards, sliding herself backwards across the ground away from the fire. Slowly the pain ebbed before vanishing. The fire too vanished, as did the room.

She stared up at a cloudless sky, admiring the beauty of the moon and stars above. Resting on cool snow, the panic of a moment ago had vanished completely. Now she was back in an endless plain, alone with her thoughts.

Or so she thought, until she heard boots crunching on freshly lain snow.
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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Damon » Mon Jun 12, 2017 11:40 am

Olin

Olin was watching the scene of contentment when the young woman's song drifted off, and she seemed to simply stare into the fires of the hearth. Olin was still disoriented from the fact he was within someone's dream, and so he did not notice the rising heat at first.

It was when the sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his breathing grew tight from the oppressive heat that he noticed the flames in the hearth twisting and flaring up. It was as if he was suddenly thrust into a forge, and he reacted immediately, trying to snuff out the flames as he would in his other dreamwalks.

But the flames refused to be denied, they were real in this dream, and he watched with horror as he saw the flames spring forth from the hearth, crawling along the floorboards as the woman before him burst into screams of pain.

Her clothing rippled, the fabric parting to reveal weeping, livid burns as her strange garment reacted to her thoughts. Olin tried to stop the burn, but he did not know this Aiel women well enough, for her hair and skin was exposed enough as she moved for him to guess her people.

Indeed it was all the could do to maintain a circle of stones to hold the fire at bay. He had never encountered such resistance before. He recalled Amadie Sedai had spoken of the dreamer being in control of their own dreams, and realized that was the reason for the resistance.

Suddenly they were in a snow filled plain, the house and flames vanished as the Dream moved past them. The Aiel woman seemed to be healing, her burns fading as her sense of self returned. Olin winced when his boots crunched on the snow, as he moved forward to create a simple lean to of ice and snow as a wind break from the weather. "Concentrate on being well, the burns here were only thoughts," he said with a small wince. He knew that an injury suffered here could carry over to the waking world. To help distract her, and to help buy time, he gestured around at the snow filled plain.

"This land is beautiful, but I do not know it. Where are we?" He asked, his voice warm and genuinely interested. It was a stark land, but it did have its own beauty.
"That's right, there's free beer in Irish paradise. Everyone's jealous.” --Kevin Hearne, Hammered

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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Craig » Wed Jun 21, 2017 2:07 pm

Zarayne
The voice that told her to be well was accompanied by an unfamiliar face. She felt no concern for the sudden appearance of the man. This was just a dream.

"We are home," Zarayne replied. Her heart faintly panged at that admission. It reminded her of--

"I thought that Aiel do not lie." Vanya Sedai joined the stranger, looking down over her. She seemed as pleasantly non-judgemental as she had in her office, on Zarayne's first day in Hama Valon.

But the snow and the cold was home. Zarayne asserted that with her words, each noise making the Mistress of Novices fade away. "Shienar. A little village in the northeast called Agoulal. The water in the river is always frozen. You've got to hack away at it to get fresh water, or you need to pack newly fallen snow."

As Vanya vanished, clouds appeared up in the sky. Within seconds, snowflakes landed on her face. Zarayne giggled softly. A flood of happiness filled her at being home again, even if this was a dream.

The distraction of snow maybe lasted a moment or two before the feeling faded. Curiosity took over. Vanya had appeared and disappeared; why not this stranger? "Who are you?" she asked, turning on her side to face the man. The weight of snow in her hair made her shudder.
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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Damon » Wed Jun 21, 2017 8:06 pm

Olin

Olin noticed the other woman appear, she was clearly an Aes Sedai by her outfit, but he knew without knowing how, that she wasn't truly present in the dream. In fact as he watched the Aes Sedai simply faded away like mist over the hills.

Snow began to fall, settling in the hair of woman before him, and Olin couldn't help but notice how striking her eyes and face were. She was attractive, and Olin coughed to cover his embarrassment when she turned to him.

When she asked who he was, Olin concentrated for a moment to ensure his sword pin and Dedicated’s jacket were correct. “My name is Olin, I don't recall meeting before this but somehow I ended up in your dream,” said Olin with a shrug. He had practiced entering the world of dreams, but this was new to him.

He could feel her regard as a physical pressure, and knew that he was far weaker here than he was in Tel’aran’rhiod and so he wanted to keep her at ease and calm while he tried to sort this out.

To that end, he concentrated and as she watched the snow swirled in the sky, and the ice formed up from the ground until a miniature Grey Tower stood before them.
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Re: Wee Willie Winkie (Attn: Damon)

Postby Craig » Mon Jun 26, 2017 1:08 am

Zarayne
For a long moment, Zarayne didn't quite interpret what the Dedicated had said. She became distracted by the little ice sculpture that rose out of the ground instead. It was instantly recognisable as the Grey Tower albeit on a miniature scale. It amused her, seeing the transparent building. In the real world, the ter'angreal glass frontage was reflective. This was more of an inverse Grey Tower.

Her bemusement didn't last terribly long. Finally Olin's words processed themselves. "...I ended up in your dream." The words themselves were more surprising than the implication, and Zarayne straightened hastily, rising up onto her feet. She was more than aware of Dreamwalking and Dreamwalkers, but this was the first time she had encountered one who was not Aiel.

"But this is not Tel'aran'rhiod," she asserted, as if her words would alter the facts at hand. The World of Dreams only reflected the real world, but this field of endless snow was imaginary. This has to be my dream. She tested the theory, superimposing the walls surrounding the Channelling Yards around them. Now unless the Grey Tower has Travelled to Shienar, then this is definitely my dream.

"How did you get here?" The question was borne out of curiosity, but a sharp accusatory note accompanied it. She couldn't recall every detail of her dream this night, but she was keenly aware that she may have revealed something secret or private. "How long have you been here?" That question was certainly accusatory.

Unbeknownst to the Aielwoman, her clothing had changed. The dress of an Accepted had vanished, replaced by a cadin'sor, with a shoufa covering her face and a longsword strapped to her side.
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