10-28-2013, 09:19 PM
The cab took Jon back to his University apartments. There, he made fast work of dressing down and preparing for sleep. With the alcohol still pulsing through his bloodstream, it wasn't a difficult task.
And he opened his third eye, and stepped into the Spirit World.
He knew right away he was in the right place. The feel of unseen eyes pressed against his soul. But Jon needed to find a different place here, that existed here, and possibly in all places, but could only be reached in the dream.
He shifted. To a place where he had no body, no form. Drifting aimlessly, he embraced the void around him. There was no "Jon," there was only consciousness and a multitude of shimmering lights. Each one, a person asleep, dreaming of whatever fantasies -- or nightmares -- the individual possessed to himself.
A private place, and Jon was going to invade it.
Jon closed his eyes -- that's the way he thought of it, though he didn't really possess eyes in this wandering plain of infinite sparkling lights that filled the empty void. All he needed to do was feel out the one shimmering spark of light among the maelstrom and pull himself to it.
Contact came surprisingly easy. Jon drew his formless body toward the pinpoint of light he'd identified. And it seemed to him that he could hover over the light and look into the content inside.
Nick Trano was sitting on a bed. There was a blazer tossed to one side and his tie had been unraveled, and hung loosely across his shoulders. Across the room, an unknown woman stood there casting cold eyes in Nick's direction.
Whips flung from Nick's arms and ensnared her wrists. "Come here to daddy, you dirty slut." He tugged the whips and pulled her toward him, and he reached up and gripped a fistful of hair, arching her neck back to expose delicate flesh that he could kiss.
Jon felt a bit bad at interrupting. But of course it was just a dream. So he pushed into the little thought bubble that comprised Nick Trano's dream.
"Nick, I need to talk to you. You're in trouble."
And he opened his third eye, and stepped into the Spirit World.
He knew right away he was in the right place. The feel of unseen eyes pressed against his soul. But Jon needed to find a different place here, that existed here, and possibly in all places, but could only be reached in the dream.
He shifted. To a place where he had no body, no form. Drifting aimlessly, he embraced the void around him. There was no "Jon," there was only consciousness and a multitude of shimmering lights. Each one, a person asleep, dreaming of whatever fantasies -- or nightmares -- the individual possessed to himself.
A private place, and Jon was going to invade it.
Jon closed his eyes -- that's the way he thought of it, though he didn't really possess eyes in this wandering plain of infinite sparkling lights that filled the empty void. All he needed to do was feel out the one shimmering spark of light among the maelstrom and pull himself to it.
Contact came surprisingly easy. Jon drew his formless body toward the pinpoint of light he'd identified. And it seemed to him that he could hover over the light and look into the content inside.
Nick Trano was sitting on a bed. There was a blazer tossed to one side and his tie had been unraveled, and hung loosely across his shoulders. Across the room, an unknown woman stood there casting cold eyes in Nick's direction.
Whips flung from Nick's arms and ensnared her wrists. "Come here to daddy, you dirty slut." He tugged the whips and pulled her toward him, and he reached up and gripped a fistful of hair, arching her neck back to expose delicate flesh that he could kiss.
Jon felt a bit bad at interrupting. But of course it was just a dream. So he pushed into the little thought bubble that comprised Nick Trano's dream.
"Nick, I need to talk to you. You're in trouble."