Demense:
TBD

The bus ride across the desert took most of the day. When she got off at a station in the middle of Texas in the middle of the night, she had no money and nowhere to go. So she picked up her ratty backpack, tied the laces of her scuffed boots, and walked out into the cactus and sagebrush. When her eyes got too heavy, she laid down in the middle of the darkness with her bag beneath her head. And as she slept, she dreamed.

The images that came to her, among the armadillos and coyotes, were vivid and strange. She dreamed about foxes and flower garlands. Dizzying whirls of color, fields of sweet strawberries. When she awoke, the sun was rising, and the words that echoed in her final sleeping hours stayed with her, even as the images faded.

The May Queen. The Fox's Daughter.

The people in the first ranchhouse she came upon were glad to take her in and feed her. She stayed for a week or two - feeding chickens, doing things to earn her keep. When she had a hundred dollars in her pocket, she said goodbye and moved on. She might have circled the entire continental US this way, maybe parts of Canada and Mexico. Jobs were easy to get and let go. Friends became impermanent things; cherished while they were there, but left as easily as dreams themselves. As she circled, she continued dreaming. Sometimes her own powerful dreams, sometimes, she would wake to find that she had really been nestled into someone else's the whole time. It did nothing to help her regain her own sense of identity, but in its wake, she might have discovered something else.

Her own subconscious world - sometimes more vivid and real than anything she feels in waking - has become a complex, isolated place. Its existence has drawn a few people to her - including a group of like-minded individuals who sought to harness the power of dreams in the world. She remained with the small cabal of Silver Portal sorcerers for awhile before moving on. Occaisioanlly, they even call back. Eventually, her wanderings led her to New York City, where she's settled, for the time being. Going through life at a forty-five degree angle to everyone else's reality hasn't slowed her down, or kept her from functioning too much. She's waited tables, made espresso, sold used clothing, sometimes all at once.She shares a two-bedroom apartment with a neat roommate (actually, a series of neat ones), and crams her bedroom full of knick-knacks.

Oneiromancy: Wits+Occult

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