RP:Dreamscape
Part of the I Write Songs Not Tragedies Arc
Summary: Brennia takes to paper of this dream that keeps plaguing her mind.
Depths of The Favored Wing
Brennia’s Room
This space of the castle is most private and not many get to see it anymore. This section of marble is covered in a thin layer of black onyx stone accented in gold and platinum, but no spare in opulence. Her own double king size bed centered against a wall sitting up a few steps, build out of dark oak and dressed in burgundy bedding and canopy curtains. This room having it’s own fireplace between it and the large washroom and thick curtains to block out the sun from all of the windows including the stained glass balcony door. A couple of elegantly plush love seats, a coffee table, and a wet bar adorn the opposite end of the room.
Brennia shoots to sit up out of slumber in her downy bed for the third night in a row again and letting out a shaken sigh while the back of her tattooed hand meets her clammy forehead. She glances to the empty spot where Eloni usually slept and caressed the emptiness while she whispers, “That's right… She’s still on that quest for the Republic.” Shifting out of her bed and pulling open the canopy curtain to only stumble slightly down the few steps her bed sits on. She grumbles something sounding like, “what the (expletive) was I thinking?” In reference to the steps to the bed. She reached her wet bar and poured herself some scotch over ice in order to sip some down. Drink in shaky hand as she lazily sauntered her way over to her desk slash vanity to light a candle before sleepily rubbing her eye with the first two knuckles of her hand. She plops down in her chair and pulls out parchment after setting the drink down. She starts to write in beautifully romantic cursive:
I am not sure where this drum came from. It’s large for a goblet drum, round like a saucer on the top, but the sounds it’s able to emit are a mystery to me. I can still hear it now from it’s locked away place and I cannot stop thinking about the tingle I feel all over when it’s skin is struck. Furthermore, I haven't been able to get much sleep as I will have these wild dreams that keeps me from a deep slumber and I will wake briefly to sooth myself to sleep to only forget in the morning.
Not tonight… It was too vivid to ignore this time.
When I was younger I used to love the joueur sphère (ooc: Type of record player) my parents owned, but I was never allowed to enjoy it without supervision for whatever reason. Now I know it was because they didn’t want me to discover my Bardic powers. I am sitting there in my dream back in my younger years and my vampire chamber maid is watching me as I enjoy one of the sphère tunes, but when I try to sing she forcibly places her hand over my mouth. Features of her face start to disappear and it frightens little me until I gather strength to run away from her.
I’m running down unfamiliar corridors until I end up in the part my childhood home which was restricted part of the castle for only me and I come to find it is full of beautiful musical instruments. I hear it, the call of the drum pounding in my head and I see the ornate pearlescent black contrasting the elegant white pattern adorning it and it is mine, I must have it. I take it and strike it with the heart of my palm when all of my fears melt away.
It felt like hours, days, months pass and I am utterly content in playing with my large goblet drum by my lonesome of the music room until my little brother runs in screaming with a bloodied forearm. We slowly shift into adults and I can see someone carved the half of our family crest off his arm, skinned it off him. Something grabs him by the black wings of his and pulls him away from me, but I cannot help…. I have my drum. The dark figure comes for me and I dodge out of the way until…
I start falling up… I’m ascending into the skies with no way of navigating through it and I have no idea what to do, but I have my drum… I see my father and mother fall down past me in the darkness asking me to save them…. But - my drum. Eventually I am just existing there in nothingness until an apparition glimmers in the dark before more, one I am not familiar with.
“Only in the water of wishes, when the moons are nigh and the melody is just right will you find the light. Go to the city of flight.”
No matter what I say she repeats the message… I don’t know what this means… I must find help.
The ink trails around the page as she fell asleep at her desk.