Room 507, Monday night/Tuesday morning
Apr. 11th, 2006 09:07 amNadia went to the library for books on dream interpretation. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She thought that maybe if she knew what the dreams meant, they couldn't control her any more.
Of course, something in the back of her mind said, looking up dream imagery in a dream would probably just confuse her more.
The school library was a forest of bookshevles, all crammed with oversized, dark books with cracked leather bindings and faded gold lettering, with titles like "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" and "precognition for fun and prophet" and "why everyone hates you".
They didn't really look like the kind of books you would actually want to, you know, read.
There was a heavy crash behind her, and she turned to see a paper shredder fly by the end of the aisle. She could hear Xander cursing and hurried down the space between the book cases . . . which grew longer as she ran.
"¡Salga de su manera!" She shouted.
She could still hear him talking to someone else, but his voice was fading in and out. "Not . . . out . . . sister. . . ."
She stopped running and watched as the aisle continued to stretch out in front of her for miles and miles. . . .
"What are you doing?" a voice purred. Nadia turned and smiled.
"I'm looking for a book about dreams," she said.
Pippi grinned. "Won't find any of those here." Her hair was back in its braids, but the braids had been folded up on her head into little triangle shapes.
"Dreams?"
"Books." Pippi shrugged, her grin not fading. "Dreams are everywhere." Actually, her grin grew brighter in the darkness of the book forest, and as Nadia looked, she realized it wasn't a BOOK forest at all. It was a real forest of cyprus and pine so tall they seemed to reach up into space. She turned back to Pippi, but the girl was gone, and her smile had turned itself into a half-moon, lighting up a small clearing.
In the clearing were two young children--a dark haired boy and a red-headed girl--and they were playing with a blonde doll. Fighting over it, actually. The boy had the doll's arms and legs, the girl had it by the hair and they were playing tug of war as the sun came up over the trees. There was a green flash of light, and the doll's head came off with a *pop* and the two little children started to cry. The girl's hair turned black as she snatched up the doll's body and forced the head back on.
"Come on, now," said Walter. "We're going to be late."
Nadia turned her head. She was back in the library and Walter was tucking his pocket watch away. The light caught it just before it disappeared into his waist coat pocket, and it seemed, for a moment, as though the dragon on the back of it had winked at her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Do you have class?"
"Late," Walter repeated. His suit was entirely white except for his gray waist coat. He carefully smoothed it down, and then scurried off in a most undignified manner.
Nadia blinked, then started after him. "Late for WHAT?"
But he was too fast for her, darting down the stairs before she could even get close. Still, she jumped down the steps as fast as she could.
". . . killing blows only," Xander said. And then the room exploded into screams and the sounds of fighting.
Veronica lay on her side, gasping for breath, and Xander hurried over to her.
"Xander, get them out of here. We have to retreat. Do it."
He nodded and left, and Veronica struggled to her feet.
Across the room, a man in a priest's collar lifted Molly off the ground by her throat. "What can I say? I work in mysterious ways." He stabbed her and dropped her. "Also some fairly straightforward ones."
Nadia screamed out a wordless denial and tried to move to attack, but Veronica beat her to it, forcing the priest away. Then Walter was there, pulling on Veronica's arm, his suit replaced by a long black jacket.
"We're all leaving."
Nadia sank to the floor and then Xander was in front of her, asking if she was okay, herding her towards the stairs. He was shouting to all of them, to all the girls (and why were they all girls) in the wine scented basement. Nadia ran where he pushed her, only to freeze when she heard the priest speak again.
"You're the one who sees everything, aren't you? Well, let's see what we can't do about that."
And Xander started screaming.
Her alarm clock started screaming.
Not literally, of course. But it had somehow been switched from music to beeping, and the shrill, electronic noise blended into the remembered scream from her dream as she sat up and switched it off.
She swung her legs off the side of the bed, then leaned forward, closing her eyes and resting her face in her palms.
". . . But what happens?" she asked the empty room. "What use is it making me dream that, if you don't tell me what happens to him?"
The room, of course, did not answer. Unless you counted Furrball mewing for his food.
Nadia sighed and got out of bed. Another day, another fifty thousand questions.
[ooc: scene from dirty girls totally snagged almost direct from the transcript over at Buffy World. A few images and themes also snagged from here, totally with permission.]
Of course, something in the back of her mind said, looking up dream imagery in a dream would probably just confuse her more.
The school library was a forest of bookshevles, all crammed with oversized, dark books with cracked leather bindings and faded gold lettering, with titles like "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" and "precognition for fun and prophet" and "why everyone hates you".
They didn't really look like the kind of books you would actually want to, you know, read.
There was a heavy crash behind her, and she turned to see a paper shredder fly by the end of the aisle. She could hear Xander cursing and hurried down the space between the book cases . . . which grew longer as she ran.
"¡Salga de su manera!" She shouted.
She could still hear him talking to someone else, but his voice was fading in and out. "Not . . . out . . . sister. . . ."
She stopped running and watched as the aisle continued to stretch out in front of her for miles and miles. . . .
"What are you doing?" a voice purred. Nadia turned and smiled.
"I'm looking for a book about dreams," she said.
Pippi grinned. "Won't find any of those here." Her hair was back in its braids, but the braids had been folded up on her head into little triangle shapes.
"Dreams?"
"Books." Pippi shrugged, her grin not fading. "Dreams are everywhere." Actually, her grin grew brighter in the darkness of the book forest, and as Nadia looked, she realized it wasn't a BOOK forest at all. It was a real forest of cyprus and pine so tall they seemed to reach up into space. She turned back to Pippi, but the girl was gone, and her smile had turned itself into a half-moon, lighting up a small clearing.
In the clearing were two young children--a dark haired boy and a red-headed girl--and they were playing with a blonde doll. Fighting over it, actually. The boy had the doll's arms and legs, the girl had it by the hair and they were playing tug of war as the sun came up over the trees. There was a green flash of light, and the doll's head came off with a *pop* and the two little children started to cry. The girl's hair turned black as she snatched up the doll's body and forced the head back on.
"Come on, now," said Walter. "We're going to be late."
Nadia turned her head. She was back in the library and Walter was tucking his pocket watch away. The light caught it just before it disappeared into his waist coat pocket, and it seemed, for a moment, as though the dragon on the back of it had winked at her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Do you have class?"
"Late," Walter repeated. His suit was entirely white except for his gray waist coat. He carefully smoothed it down, and then scurried off in a most undignified manner.
Nadia blinked, then started after him. "Late for WHAT?"
But he was too fast for her, darting down the stairs before she could even get close. Still, she jumped down the steps as fast as she could.
". . . killing blows only," Xander said. And then the room exploded into screams and the sounds of fighting.
Veronica lay on her side, gasping for breath, and Xander hurried over to her.
"Xander, get them out of here. We have to retreat. Do it."
He nodded and left, and Veronica struggled to her feet.
Across the room, a man in a priest's collar lifted Molly off the ground by her throat. "What can I say? I work in mysterious ways." He stabbed her and dropped her. "Also some fairly straightforward ones."
Nadia screamed out a wordless denial and tried to move to attack, but Veronica beat her to it, forcing the priest away. Then Walter was there, pulling on Veronica's arm, his suit replaced by a long black jacket.
"We're all leaving."
Nadia sank to the floor and then Xander was in front of her, asking if she was okay, herding her towards the stairs. He was shouting to all of them, to all the girls (and why were they all girls) in the wine scented basement. Nadia ran where he pushed her, only to freeze when she heard the priest speak again.
"You're the one who sees everything, aren't you? Well, let's see what we can't do about that."
And Xander started screaming.
Her alarm clock started screaming.
Not literally, of course. But it had somehow been switched from music to beeping, and the shrill, electronic noise blended into the remembered scream from her dream as she sat up and switched it off.
She swung her legs off the side of the bed, then leaned forward, closing her eyes and resting her face in her palms.
". . . But what happens?" she asked the empty room. "What use is it making me dream that, if you don't tell me what happens to him?"
The room, of course, did not answer. Unless you counted Furrball mewing for his food.
Nadia sighed and got out of bed. Another day, another fifty thousand questions.
[ooc: scene from dirty girls totally snagged almost direct from the transcript over at Buffy World. A few images and themes also snagged from here, totally with permission.]
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Date: 2006-04-11 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-04-11 03:16 pm (UTC)ooc
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