[Isabel] Dreaming the dreams of others
Apr. 22nd, 2007 01:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
nohatmatt.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
crossing_lostrpWho: Isabel
When: Day 28, late night
Where: One of the tents outside the bunker
Invited: Anyone
Status: Incomplete
Unable to find a bedroom in the bunker which didn't look claimed, Isabel had occupied a sparsely-equipped tent outside. A small tear in the fabric which let an unpleasant breeze in had succumbed to her talents and knitted itself back together under the touch of her fingertips. Brief concentration allowed her to warm the damp and chill out of the sleeping bag, and she snuggled into it contentedly, drifting off to sleep with the all the tiredness she'd claimed to feel. It was still early, but it had been a busy day.
Sleep swallowed her, and it was many hours before she came to awareness, realising almost simultaneously that she wasn't actually awake. She floated in what she immediately recognised as her own mind, dreaming a dream with no content. As with her other powers, what she was doing came to her instinctively.
Gently she felt the dreams around her, the sleeping minds which generated them. Some of them she recognised. At the edges of her senses she heard minds still awake, recognising most of them. Agitation and concern predominated, but she caught only flashes from them. Dreams were her domain here, yet it was clear that something had happened. She reached further, found a cluster of dreamers by themselves. Where they were she had no idea, but she could reach out and touch their dreams with ease, watching them as if viewing a film through clouded glass. The images were disturbing: people fighting and struggling, drugs and beatings and ropes. Dirt and damp and insects.
Alarmed, Isabel pushed harder, trying to get through the barrier around one person's dreams, to see more clearly, to enter them fully, but she lacked the handle she needed to overcome the mind's natural defences, lacked the key to that particular lock, and could only beat on it from the outside. Frustrated, she gathered herself to try harder, but this time she encountered another presence, a strong one, which swatted her thrust with contemptuous ease and shattered her awareness.
A heartbeat later she sat up, the fabric of her tent blasted away by the force of that counterstrike, leaving her gasping and shivering in the middle of a bare patch of ground as the trees rustled from the aftershock.
OOC: And I defy anybody even remotely psychic not to notice that!
When: Day 28, late night
Where: One of the tents outside the bunker
Invited: Anyone
Status: Incomplete
Unable to find a bedroom in the bunker which didn't look claimed, Isabel had occupied a sparsely-equipped tent outside. A small tear in the fabric which let an unpleasant breeze in had succumbed to her talents and knitted itself back together under the touch of her fingertips. Brief concentration allowed her to warm the damp and chill out of the sleeping bag, and she snuggled into it contentedly, drifting off to sleep with the all the tiredness she'd claimed to feel. It was still early, but it had been a busy day.
Sleep swallowed her, and it was many hours before she came to awareness, realising almost simultaneously that she wasn't actually awake. She floated in what she immediately recognised as her own mind, dreaming a dream with no content. As with her other powers, what she was doing came to her instinctively.
Gently she felt the dreams around her, the sleeping minds which generated them. Some of them she recognised. At the edges of her senses she heard minds still awake, recognising most of them. Agitation and concern predominated, but she caught only flashes from them. Dreams were her domain here, yet it was clear that something had happened. She reached further, found a cluster of dreamers by themselves. Where they were she had no idea, but she could reach out and touch their dreams with ease, watching them as if viewing a film through clouded glass. The images were disturbing: people fighting and struggling, drugs and beatings and ropes. Dirt and damp and insects.
Alarmed, Isabel pushed harder, trying to get through the barrier around one person's dreams, to see more clearly, to enter them fully, but she lacked the handle she needed to overcome the mind's natural defences, lacked the key to that particular lock, and could only beat on it from the outside. Frustrated, she gathered herself to try harder, but this time she encountered another presence, a strong one, which swatted her thrust with contemptuous ease and shattered her awareness.
A heartbeat later she sat up, the fabric of her tent blasted away by the force of that counterstrike, leaving her gasping and shivering in the middle of a bare patch of ground as the trees rustled from the aftershock.
OOC: And I defy anybody even remotely psychic not to notice that!
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