[This wasn't the first time Declan had woken up somewhere other than where he closed his eyes, but at least he could say that this time was a bit less volatile than the last. Was this some kind of paradox effect? His last memory was of casting Knit on Holiday after he'd gone and run his mouth again...and then this. Magic was apt to do as it would, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of deeper awakening than his last had been.
He felt that same sense of disassociation as he stood in a grass covered patch of land in the Central District, his eyes locked on the tree in front of him. Everything was so utterly different and alien to him, even this tree made mechanical sounds as if it were wound like a clock...and yet, it was all incredibly familiar; the sights, sounds, and bustle of a city, just like New York, albeit on a smaller scale. It was like someone had put a living mask over a corpse and set it up at the family dinner.
A chill wind swept across the square, prompting Declan to pull his coat a little closer to his body as he excavated a pack of cigarettes from a pocket along with his lighter and lit it with a quick flick of his hand; an expert maneuver he'd fine tuned over his years smoking, and moved closer to the tree as he took a calming drag.
Upon closer inspection, he could even make out tiny gears on the tree amid the child-like decorations and above all, the plaque caught his attention most vividly, prompting him to squat down to take a better look. While mostly illegible, he could make out one phrase between the rust and disrepair...
“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”]
[He murmured around his nicotine stick before rising to his feet once again and casting an idle gaze around. Hopefully someone was nearby that he could get some information from...namely, where in the name of Mary, mother of the saint he was.]
Dr. Declan E. Blake, OD | Mage: The Awakening
He felt that same sense of disassociation as he stood in a grass covered patch of land in the Central District, his eyes locked on the tree in front of him. Everything was so utterly different and alien to him, even this tree made mechanical sounds as if it were wound like a clock...and yet, it was all incredibly familiar; the sights, sounds, and bustle of a city, just like New York, albeit on a smaller scale. It was like someone had put a living mask over a corpse and set it up at the family dinner.
A chill wind swept across the square, prompting Declan to pull his coat a little closer to his body as he excavated a pack of cigarettes from a pocket along with his lighter and lit it with a quick flick of his hand; an expert maneuver he'd fine tuned over his years smoking, and moved closer to the tree as he took a calming drag.
Upon closer inspection, he could even make out tiny gears on the tree amid the child-like decorations and above all, the plaque caught his attention most vividly, prompting him to squat down to take a better look. While mostly illegible, he could make out one phrase between the rust and disrepair...
“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”]
"Poe, eh? Seems fittin' e'nuff. Guess'ts really dat time'a t'year, innit?"
[He murmured around his nicotine stick before rising to his feet once again and casting an idle gaze around. Hopefully someone was nearby that he could get some information from...namely, where in the name of Mary, mother of the saint he was.]