x. ][ dream

[thefavorite]

It's a somewhat grey day in the rustic countryside, the sky overcast, air slightly damp and the ground moist with recent rainfall. The somewhat dreary landscape is dotted with small, thatched-roof cottages, built in small clusters around fields. Some of them are yielding crops, but the one currently being tended by two teenage boys in ratty, dirty clothes is more mud than anything else. Still, they're toiling away in it, even as they mutter angrily to themselves.

Stick around long enough, and you might catch sight of a majestic stallion on the horizon, bearing the Lord's personal guard. As he approaches, peasants emerge from the cottages, eager to catch a glimpse of their beloved ruler. From the cottage by that muddy field emerge a husband and wife who start craning their necks, clearly hoping to be blessed enough to see their Lord.

[ ooc: You may, of course, chose when your character arrives in the dream and how far off they are from Lord Dewey's arrival. Decide who they approach, if you like - visit the boys in the field, the couple from the cottage, or simply wait and hope that you can gain an audience with the magnificent Lord. ]

Comments

[unflagging]

[A crow flies across those fields, on what errand only he knows.

Swinging low, it flies near to the horse, seeing what there is to be seen...]

[thefavorite]

[ The guard atop that horse spares barely a glance toward the crow - such birds are hardly unusual - as he makes his way along the dirt road into town. Behind him is a carriage, a fine and gleaming closed carriage with drapery over the windows, being led by a team of horses nearly perfectly matching the guard's steed.

The drapery pulls back over one window, slightly, and Dewey peers out through the opening, surveying the land. ]

[unflagging]

[Now, it is the carriage that catches this bird's eye--this fine and gleaming carriage, this sign of power drawn on by these fine horses. Like so many others, he draws closer to catch a glimpse of the lord of this land.

And he dares speak where others might be silent:]

Good My Lord.

[thefavorite]

[ Dewey, for his part, doesn't mind. He's not a ruthless tyrant by any means. Nor is he fazed by the speaking bird - many of the animals talk to him. Most often, they are his dogs, with whom he shares countless hours of conversation. But it's just as reasonable to assume that a crow could talk to him if it so desired. ]

Hello.

[unflagging]

[Then the crow will speak to him, as it seems to please them both.]

And are you well this day, My Lord?

[sleepingstar]

[The Lord is coming! The Lord is coming! That's all Pai's been hearing, ever since she arrived. Who is this lord everyone's so excited about seeing? She tugs on the wife's sleeve, feigning childish ignorance.]

Who's the lord?

[thefavorite]

[ The wife gasps at the question - how could anyone not know the Lord? Their beloved, revered Lord. Her brows arch slightly as she glances down. ]

Lord Dewey, of course! He's our favorite.

[ Her husband taps at her arm suddenly, excitedly. ]

Oh! Honey-- honey, the carriage!

[ The wife turns her attention away again, down the road toward the horizon. ]

[sleepingstar]

Your favorite what?

[thefavorite]

[ The wife responds, though she doesn't pull her eyes away. ]

Why, our favorite son.

[ And the husband speaks up likewise not looking: ]

They took him away and made him a Lord some time ago, when they realized how wonderful he is.

[sleepingstar]

And you let them? [There's no judgement in her voice. Pai is hardly a stranger to parents giving up their children. Her own parents sold her to the Syndicate long ago. Killers should be with killers. But she knows they didn't give her up because it was the logical thing to do. They threw her away because they were afraid of her.

Human bonds were so weak.]