Dreamscape, Sunday Afternoon Fandom Time

[withoutverona]

"What are you doing here?"

Romeo would have been faster to answer the question if he'd known where here was. It was a bedroom, and one that was no doubt lovely when it wasn't in a shambles. But it was in a shambles now -- bedclothes tossed everywhere, strawberries spilling from an overturned table, debris and glass on the floor. He turned away from the mess to see who addressed him. The slender brunette bore no less hostility in her eyes than anyone else here, but she was the first to speak to him.

He shook his head. "I know not. My name is -"

"Idiot. I know who you are," the woman -- Mal -- claimed. "But why are you here like this? You're a boy." She came toward Romeo before he could answer, something almost hypnotic in her slow walk. "Do you still know what it is to be a lover? To be half of a whole?"

"Since I was sixteen, I've not been anything else," Romeo answered. It was possible he'd spent the last four years waiting for someone to ask him that question. "Aye. I know. Too well."

"Then you might guess my riddle," Mal said, and lightly touched his chest. "You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don't know for sure. But... it doesn't matter. How can it not matter to you where that train will take you?"

Romeo seldom heard his own voice from outside his head, and the man who spoke next stayed obscured and unrecognizable in shadows. Otherwise, he would have had more to think about than the riddle.

"Because you'll be together."

"Because you'll be together," Romeo repeated eagerly, thinking it a rather beautiful answer -- and was completely ignored by the couple as a slight, dark-haired girl entered the room and Mal's questioning began anew.

As for Romeo, he was taking a miraculously unbroken bottle of champagne and going off to look for Jim.

[OOC: Bits borrowed from Inception. For the other dreamverse hitchhiker, should he want!]

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[answer2bheard.livejournal.com]

Jim had found his way out to the rocky beaches of this new corner of whatever it was that he and Romeo had found themselves in, and was smiling out almost wistfully at the waves.

They weren't alone here, he was fairly certain. There had been footprints in the sand that hadn't been put there by himself and Romeo, though whoever else had been along this beach hadn't been walking alone, either. And the whole place had a sort of surreal quality to it, massive buildings that couldn't possibly still be standing, reaching into the sky, occasionally breaking apart and falling into the sea.

He found himself wanting to be at the tops of those buildings looking down untouched as they crumbled, but the view from the bottom, his boots in hand as the waves lapped against his ankles, was still amazing enough for him to lose all track of time. Whether he'd been watching those crumbling towers for hours or days, he wasn't quite certain. But he could probably continue doing so for years more. Maybe he'd build a few towers of his own. There was something about this place that made him confident that he could.