Oneiromancy – 2.05.2022 – Delilah
May 30, 2022 5:43:49 GMT
Jaezred Vandree and Velania Kalugina like this
Post by Delilah Daybreaker on May 30, 2022 5:43:49 GMT
She could no longer write her reports. The curse had fully settled into her. Though she was born visible, she now identified as invisible. She is trans-parent. Her pronouns are who/where.
This was now her life and if she couldn’t laugh at it she might just scream.
She had awoken suddenly, not realising the voice she heard in her head was Beastie attempting to rouse her from slumber. Honestly, for a not-cat that once was a cat, the creature/soul/being that was bound to her had probably saved her life. Or at least saved her the embarrassment of going about her now Living Ghost life buck naked.
It would have been funny for all of two seconds.
Oziah did not take the change of status well. At all. It took everything not to break down too. She had to be strong now. More than ever she had to fully become steel. If she let herself even for a moment waver, or crack, everyone around her would think her helpless, useless, in need of saving.
She couldn’t have that.
Jaezred had an invitation to a fanciful carnival – The Night Circus. Apparently the forunteller there had a vision (oh here we go) about a catastrophe (of course) and imminent peril (naturally).
But the moment Delilah stepped into a tunnel of stars and into a world of black, whites, and all manner of shades of grey, she didn’t care. About any of it. She could feel things, touch things, hold things.
The first thing she did was take Oziah into her arms and kiss her with the abandoned passion of a starved man. It had only been less than eight hours but she didn’t care. Neither did her love.
When they finally came up to breathe, she wandered, eventually losing track of the others. Not on purpose but rather it was the way the Circus was meant to be. The patrons were meant to follow their whims and see where their fancies took them. Hers just happened to take her to her Heart’s Desire.
It was a circular tent, twenty to thirty feet in diameter, with thick, deep black soil underfoot. In the centre was a tree with grey branches that extended far over her head. The lowest limbs – maybe two to three feet off the ground – were covered in candles, all bearing white flames. At the base of the tree was a chest containing pieces of paper and small white candles, just like those on the tree.
“…write your heart’s desire and burn it in the light of the flame as you make your wish… sounds interesting…”
It was not the sort of thing she normally would have done, but this place, this Circus, was doing something to her. It made her want to try. And so Delilah wrote down what she wanted more than anything, then, using her summoned shadowy clawed mage hand lifted the white candle to the very top of the tree. The piece of paper caught instantly and burned to ashes within seconds, which fell like snow down upon her face.
She felt lighter, hopeful, easier.
Then all was raging flames, screaming patrons, and burning air, and-
Delilah wakes up suddenly, floating some two feet above the mattress of her and Oziah’s bed. It was disorienting, this new ability to float or fly or whatever the others had wanted to call it, but it also made for really inconvenient moments, much like the one she was having right now.
Forcing herself back down to the mattress, though not actually feeling anything, Delilah stares up at the monochrome ceiling, wondering how long she will have to live like this before she could fix things. If such a solution even existed.
Father, where are you?
This was now her life and if she couldn’t laugh at it she might just scream.
She had awoken suddenly, not realising the voice she heard in her head was Beastie attempting to rouse her from slumber. Honestly, for a not-cat that once was a cat, the creature/soul/being that was bound to her had probably saved her life. Or at least saved her the embarrassment of going about her now Living Ghost life buck naked.
It would have been funny for all of two seconds.
Oziah did not take the change of status well. At all. It took everything not to break down too. She had to be strong now. More than ever she had to fully become steel. If she let herself even for a moment waver, or crack, everyone around her would think her helpless, useless, in need of saving.
She couldn’t have that.
Jaezred had an invitation to a fanciful carnival – The Night Circus. Apparently the forunteller there had a vision (oh here we go) about a catastrophe (of course) and imminent peril (naturally).
But the moment Delilah stepped into a tunnel of stars and into a world of black, whites, and all manner of shades of grey, she didn’t care. About any of it. She could feel things, touch things, hold things.
The first thing she did was take Oziah into her arms and kiss her with the abandoned passion of a starved man. It had only been less than eight hours but she didn’t care. Neither did her love.
When they finally came up to breathe, she wandered, eventually losing track of the others. Not on purpose but rather it was the way the Circus was meant to be. The patrons were meant to follow their whims and see where their fancies took them. Hers just happened to take her to her Heart’s Desire.
It was a circular tent, twenty to thirty feet in diameter, with thick, deep black soil underfoot. In the centre was a tree with grey branches that extended far over her head. The lowest limbs – maybe two to three feet off the ground – were covered in candles, all bearing white flames. At the base of the tree was a chest containing pieces of paper and small white candles, just like those on the tree.
“…write your heart’s desire and burn it in the light of the flame as you make your wish… sounds interesting…”
It was not the sort of thing she normally would have done, but this place, this Circus, was doing something to her. It made her want to try. And so Delilah wrote down what she wanted more than anything, then, using her summoned shadowy clawed mage hand lifted the white candle to the very top of the tree. The piece of paper caught instantly and burned to ashes within seconds, which fell like snow down upon her face.
She felt lighter, hopeful, easier.
Then all was raging flames, screaming patrons, and burning air, and-
Delilah wakes up suddenly, floating some two feet above the mattress of her and Oziah’s bed. It was disorienting, this new ability to float or fly or whatever the others had wanted to call it, but it also made for really inconvenient moments, much like the one she was having right now.
Forcing herself back down to the mattress, though not actually feeling anything, Delilah stares up at the monochrome ceiling, wondering how long she will have to live like this before she could fix things. If such a solution even existed.
Father, where are you?
