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writers_muses 106.3 - Dreaming Blade (RP for <lj site="livejourna
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faedefrance Sep. 22nd, 2009 11:32 am)
faedefrance Sep. 22nd, 2009 11:32 am)Wake now child
In the middle of the night
The edges of your mind
Have grown a little wild
Jocelyn went back into the house and slipped out of her damp nightdress into a clean, dry one. Thankfully the Chateau de Rochefort and all within it continued to slumber unawares of the comings and goings of she and her friend, Azazeal. Perhaps it was her wards, or his. She was not certain which and it really did not matter. Her body still was piqued and tingled with the newfound sensations she had experienced in the garden. But now, strangely, she was ready to sleep, ready to dream. Crawling between the sheets, her head had barely hit the pillow when she felt overwhelmingly tired. Was it Azazeal's spell already, perhaps? She closed her eyes and consciously slowed her thoughts, going deeper in her mind, and descending the imaginary stairway into the Realm of Dreaming.
The garden was filled with mist, every flower was as bright as if it were daylight and yet, there was the muted laziness and twilight warmth in this place. She looked down at the web-thin folds of her nightdress, so light and transparent that it should have torn with a breeze or even a breath. In the shadows and recesses of the dream in places that could not be seen by any but the eyes of a dreamer, lurked unseen creatures. Some were malevolent, some not. Fireflies buzzed lazily through the air that seemed filled with motes of pollen, stardust and whisps of dream or thought that had not yet become form. Jocelyn stepped lightly on the grass that was cool but not wet, and peered through the parts of the forest that she could see, searching for that face, the familiar....someone that she knew she was seeking.
Who or what was it now?
Jocelyn could not quite form her thoughts around that which she was supposed to remember. It was funny how dreams worked. What made perfect sense or was easy to recall when one was awake, was not always quite clear in this realm. Even her dreaming self knew that she would be able to recall more easily, but this was different. This was important, yet.....dangerous. The danger of it, the clandestine daring of what was happening here cut across her awareness. Yes, this was not exactly a chaste thing for a maiden to be searching out. But as of late, for some reason she was not now too clear about, she had not been feeling as chaste as a girl her age might. Something had awakened inside of her - something wild. But she was absolutely unsure as to what it was.
Jocelyn caught sight of a very large creatiure, something crossed between an elk and a mountain goat. He was enormous, and brutishly handsome. Jocelyn stopped in her tracks and observed him, her own pulse seemed to race. Almost immediately the creature caught sight of her as well and stopped grazing long enough to look at her. There was a tangible energy between she and the stag. Almost of their own accord, her bare feet moved through the soft grass toward him. The stag also moved toward her with no fear. The large rack of antlers gleemed in the ethereal light of her dream. She stopped next to a rosebush that was covered in white roses. The perfume of the flowers hung with such intensity in the air that it made Jocelyn's head pound.
In that moment she realised that she and the creature were now standing face to face. His large, dark eyes had a nearly golden glow to them. He edged his nose toward her and butted her slightly with his head, but the antlers themselves posed no danger when he did so. She smiled and in a sudden flash of inspiration reached out for one of the white roses, not the largest but certainly perfect. As she plucked it, one of the thorns pricked her finger causing her to let out a gasp, but even so, she did not let go of the flower that she had just plucked. A bead of blood formed on her fingertip. Jocelyn let out a gasp of surprise as the stag pushed his face toward her, his tongue darted out to take the blood from the prick of her finger. She had never experienced anything like this before and threw her arms about the neck of the stag and nuzzled her face in his fur, relishing the closeness of this strange, yet familiar beast.
When at last she pulled away, she found herself embraced in the arms of a man. Glancing upward she found herself looking up into the eyes of none other than Azazeal.
Muse:Jocelyn de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 445
In the middle of the night
The edges of your mind
Have grown a little wild
Jocelyn went back into the house and slipped out of her damp nightdress into a clean, dry one. Thankfully the Chateau de Rochefort and all within it continued to slumber unawares of the comings and goings of she and her friend, Azazeal. Perhaps it was her wards, or his. She was not certain which and it really did not matter. Her body still was piqued and tingled with the newfound sensations she had experienced in the garden. But now, strangely, she was ready to sleep, ready to dream. Crawling between the sheets, her head had barely hit the pillow when she felt overwhelmingly tired. Was it Azazeal's spell already, perhaps? She closed her eyes and consciously slowed her thoughts, going deeper in her mind, and descending the imaginary stairway into the Realm of Dreaming.
The garden was filled with mist, every flower was as bright as if it were daylight and yet, there was the muted laziness and twilight warmth in this place. She looked down at the web-thin folds of her nightdress, so light and transparent that it should have torn with a breeze or even a breath. In the shadows and recesses of the dream in places that could not be seen by any but the eyes of a dreamer, lurked unseen creatures. Some were malevolent, some not. Fireflies buzzed lazily through the air that seemed filled with motes of pollen, stardust and whisps of dream or thought that had not yet become form. Jocelyn stepped lightly on the grass that was cool but not wet, and peered through the parts of the forest that she could see, searching for that face, the familiar....someone that she knew she was seeking.
Who or what was it now?
Jocelyn could not quite form her thoughts around that which she was supposed to remember. It was funny how dreams worked. What made perfect sense or was easy to recall when one was awake, was not always quite clear in this realm. Even her dreaming self knew that she would be able to recall more easily, but this was different. This was important, yet.....dangerous. The danger of it, the clandestine daring of what was happening here cut across her awareness. Yes, this was not exactly a chaste thing for a maiden to be searching out. But as of late, for some reason she was not now too clear about, she had not been feeling as chaste as a girl her age might. Something had awakened inside of her - something wild. But she was absolutely unsure as to what it was.
Jocelyn caught sight of a very large creatiure, something crossed between an elk and a mountain goat. He was enormous, and brutishly handsome. Jocelyn stopped in her tracks and observed him, her own pulse seemed to race. Almost immediately the creature caught sight of her as well and stopped grazing long enough to look at her. There was a tangible energy between she and the stag. Almost of their own accord, her bare feet moved through the soft grass toward him. The stag also moved toward her with no fear. The large rack of antlers gleemed in the ethereal light of her dream. She stopped next to a rosebush that was covered in white roses. The perfume of the flowers hung with such intensity in the air that it made Jocelyn's head pound.
In that moment she realised that she and the creature were now standing face to face. His large, dark eyes had a nearly golden glow to them. He edged his nose toward her and butted her slightly with his head, but the antlers themselves posed no danger when he did so. She smiled and in a sudden flash of inspiration reached out for one of the white roses, not the largest but certainly perfect. As she plucked it, one of the thorns pricked her finger causing her to let out a gasp, but even so, she did not let go of the flower that she had just plucked. A bead of blood formed on her fingertip. Jocelyn let out a gasp of surprise as the stag pushed his face toward her, his tongue darted out to take the blood from the prick of her finger. She had never experienced anything like this before and threw her arms about the neck of the stag and nuzzled her face in his fur, relishing the closeness of this strange, yet familiar beast.
When at last she pulled away, she found herself embraced in the arms of a man. Glancing upward she found herself looking up into the eyes of none other than Azazeal.
Muse:Jocelyn de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 445
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From:
no subject
The stag was appropriate, or rather would be appropriate, once Jocelyn underwent her Rite of Becoming. Either way, the significance was undeniable.
Then, there he was when she pulled back from her hug of the beast, and Azazeal smiled. "I knew you would find me here." His blue eyes glittered as he gazed down at her, his arms still around her. They had talked earlier, they would talk again. Now, in this garden of her Dreaming, there was no need for many words. Azazeal tipped his head down to kiss her as passionately as they had done before.
From:
no subject
In the Realm of Dreams, as she well knew, there were things that could happen that would have no reprocussions on the Realm of Waking. Conversely, however, some things awlays affect all other realms. Jocelyn was not unaware of the spell that Azazeal had cast upon her and oddly she had no desire to struggle against it, in fact it was oddly comforting.
There was so little by way of clothing between them now. Her nightdress in the garden had been thin and transparent when wet in the rain, but now, the web that covered her young body could have torn with just a breath or a touch.
Jocelyn felt the same pull within her stomach and her heart ached and her body tingled wanting him to touch her again just as he had in the garden. But she also knew that between them there would be more, much more.
As she opened to Azazeal's kiss, she took a breath, inhaling him into he lungs, her jaw opening slightly beneath his. With trembling fingers she reached out to him, her fingers seeking out the buttons on his shirt to pull away that which still kept them apart.