[I think custom leather boots are a damn good thing to get excited about! What are they like? Tell tell! (I haven't had macaroons in years, gosh.) Also, here is a song for Charles--sort of this thread in a nutshell lol. Aaaaand some visual reference for the Grove. Not sure how mean you want to be whether you want Charles to be able to walk while in the Dream, but it's certainly an option!]
One of the things that had been most important to Aurus for this undertaking was that it not feel like Charles was a mender tending to him in some sickbed. That had, in fact, been one of his own reasons for wanting the intimacy of resting his head in Charles' lap. But it was also an element in the touch of their hands, the expression in their eyes--none of this felt clinical or sterile, and to him that mattered very much.
With a smile and a nod of his head, Aurus let his eyes slide closed, returning the squeeze Charles gave his hand before letting his grip slide free and folding his palms lightly on his chest.
He allowed a meditative focus on his breath to slowly lead him down the path towards sleep, scanning his body as he did so that the spots of tension ebbed and he sank into the heaviness of relaxation.
At first, as he did this, his mind was clear and blank, like old slate rubbed clean and smoothed by use. And then slowly, out of the darkness, an impression of shapes and contours grew. Grays and blacks became muted shades of taupe and then blue, lines and planes that wove together in an intricately patterned web. The colors shifted, blue becoming darker, becoming indigo, becoming pink then red, yellow, green, as the fractal of patterns seemed to fall closer...or else they were zooming into it, falling ever downward into its center.
Only there was no center. There was, instead, a pattern of shapes that made up other shapes, each a component of the one that came before. They slid in along spirals, the eyes of which each revealed a thousand other spirals, and they sometimes seemed to angle off center so that they slid not into the eye of the spiral ahead but into one of its tiny side components, which each seemed to expand at their approach...unless each spiral had truly always been so big and they so small but merely not yet close enough to see it.
These fractals were, in no small part, produced by the tea Aurus had drunk--a way to visualize a path, to have the sense of closing distance. But they also represented something of the immensity of the multiverse, an experience of mortal finitude and relative smallness compared to the scope and scale of the unending. The feeling of movement through this surreal landscape might itself be overwhelming, especially since it would feel like quite a long time before they finally emerged through the base of a spiral that did not lead to yet another one.
Then, at last, there was a blackness that lightened slowly into gray, and now into mist with a growing tinge of green--of light and life and growing things. All still nondescript for now, as though the world was veiled in a thick fog, but the fog was slowly beginning to clear and they were no longer falling through space.
no subject
how mean you want to bewhether you want Charles to be able to walk while in the Dream, but it's certainly an option!]One of the things that had been most important to Aurus for this undertaking was that it not feel like Charles was a mender tending to him in some sickbed. That had, in fact, been one of his own reasons for wanting the intimacy of resting his head in Charles' lap. But it was also an element in the touch of their hands, the expression in their eyes--none of this felt clinical or sterile, and to him that mattered very much.
With a smile and a nod of his head, Aurus let his eyes slide closed, returning the squeeze Charles gave his hand before letting his grip slide free and folding his palms lightly on his chest.
He allowed a meditative focus on his breath to slowly lead him down the path towards sleep, scanning his body as he did so that the spots of tension ebbed and he sank into the heaviness of relaxation.
At first, as he did this, his mind was clear and blank, like old slate rubbed clean and smoothed by use. And then slowly, out of the darkness, an impression of shapes and contours grew. Grays and blacks became muted shades of taupe and then blue, lines and planes that wove together in an intricately patterned web. The colors shifted, blue becoming darker, becoming indigo, becoming pink then red, yellow, green, as the fractal of patterns seemed to fall closer...or else they were zooming into it, falling ever downward into its center.
Only there was no center. There was, instead, a pattern of shapes that made up other shapes, each a component of the one that came before. They slid in along spirals, the eyes of which each revealed a thousand other spirals, and they sometimes seemed to angle off center so that they slid not into the eye of the spiral ahead but into one of its tiny side components, which each seemed to expand at their approach...unless each spiral had truly always been so big and they so small but merely not yet close enough to see it.
These fractals were, in no small part, produced by the tea Aurus had drunk--a way to visualize a path, to have the sense of closing distance. But they also represented something of the immensity of the multiverse, an experience of mortal finitude and relative smallness compared to the scope and scale of the unending. The feeling of movement through this surreal landscape might itself be overwhelming, especially since it would feel like quite a long time before they finally emerged through the base of a spiral that did not lead to yet another one.
Then, at last, there was a blackness that lightened slowly into gray, and now into mist with a growing tinge of green--of light and life and growing things. All still nondescript for now, as though the world was veiled in a thick fog, but the fog was slowly beginning to clear and they were no longer falling through space.