Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 3986138" data-attributes="member: 4936">Facade opened her eyes. For a moment, the world seemed skewed, twisted. Hadn't she been standing? Hadn't she been saying something? It seemed oily now though, vanishing like smoke, like dreams.But this time she held onto it.On the stairs. Vanessa. Junkyard AKA Alan. She'd -just been there-. That made no sense. Dream? Facade considers. It was surreal enough, with odd images and glimpses of things on cereal boxes and magazines... But no. She was sure of it. It had been as utterly convincing as where she was now. As well to say the bedroom was a dream....and who was to say it wasn't?We'd started remembering things. Alan had mentioned names, and even Haven had a poleaxed look. We started remembering, and then...whoosh. Back to the start.What did that MEAN though? If it was all real, it meant Vanessa had absolute power over time and space, essentially. She was God. If it WASN'T real, if this was some kind of dream...maybe a controlled one via electronic implants or chemicals...then it made more sense. As did other things. She'd have to play it safe. See if anyone else remembered. Tip the hand, and there'd just be another flash back...and Facade wasn't sure she could hold onto the memories every time. To see if anyone noticed the repeat, she 'dressed' in the Librarian again, even in the same dress...then headed downstairs.</blockquote>