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Weird dreams.

Bunch of witches? or someone? trying to do something, and they had to collect all the sacred things to make the time go reverse or whatever on them so they could get something done. The rest of the people around them could not be saved, not unless they were one of the select few who could handle it, and they had to bar the room and close the doors so that the effect of the timeswap could be contained and just limited to them, even though one of the group (actually, it was the one whose eyes I was looking from at the time) wanted to open the doors to the larger hall so the people in there could be saved too; I had to be dragged (weeping bitterly) away from the doors while my superior barred it (angsting like fuck as well, because people she loved were out there too).

This happened three times. Each of the first two times (it was looping in the timestream) we had to get some of the people running tech for the show to bring some boxes in the hall that would do the timeloop to save the records therein; the third time, they came in with the boxes, just as we were about to get them, and said, "Can we store these in here? Thanks, great," and wandered out on their own. I wasn't happy that time about leaving them behind either.

Cameo appearance of a whole flock of ravens and some muttered something about names that are really bloody familiar from elselist (Ro, you know of whom I'm speaking here), but it was a cameo, not a crucial appearance, though that crowd cameoing anywhere may be crucial (uncertain). I think I'll give a certain someone a courtesy e-mail to let her know that she and hers cameoed, even though the lack of significance is near-certain.


When I went back to sleep after waking up to give Figment a wakeup call, I was rudely introduced to the fact that I was a female in a government-supported Howard Families type arrangement. I was overjoyed to note that certain bondmates were on the list, and was trying to get in touch with them when I finally woke up...
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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