It has a song— / It has a sting— / Ah, too, it has a wing. [closed]

[apidae]

Bee waits by the fountain. She got there early with an impromptu picnic and a book, and has been sitting and reading calmly ever since. She clung hard to her dream upon waking, intently focusing on the people she met there - she remembers Peter and Dana of course, and the Doctor with his unforgettable face, but the Balladeer, with whom she actually made concrete plans, strangely eludes her, the memory of his features somewhat shifting. She hopes he remembers and comes to find her. She's excited to see him and to see his patterns. It's very strange to her, to forget a face. She does remember getting a very curious and sort of muddled view of him, more than the general haziness of dreams accounts for. His patterns are going to be very strange, she is sure of that.

She sets her book down after a moment and stretches her legs out, her feet bare as usual, and takes a moment to look around at the crowd of people moving through Bethesda Terrace. Perhaps he's among them. Will she recognize him when he appears? What if he decided not to find her after all? She's more nervous than usual, she thinks. Tired, too. That was a lot of socialization she had in her sleep. She hopes, if he does come, they can go somewhere a little more secluded.

Welcome to the World of Tomorrow!!! [closed]

[etherthief]

Iman is in a perilously good mood after the last collective dream - apart from very nearly embarrassing the shit out of herself in front of the TARDIS, a situation which she's fairly hopeful righted itself, all her interactions were lovely and stress-free. She remembers meeting Greta especially, since Greta is someone she can track down, and more than that, she essentially promised to. Work moves at a reasonable pace and she manages to enjoy it - she and Rush are back to an acceptable state of banter, and Julian continues to be friendly and fine - and it's payday. Maybe she can take Greta out somewhere.

It's quick work getting the roster of registrants living at the Base, and sure enough there's a Greta Baker - Baker, really? Did she not have a last name, did they just assign her that? - up several floors in the living area. One elevator ride and several fiddling adjustments to her hijab later, she's standing outside Greta's door. She gives a quick series of knocks and then folds her hands behind her back. She's a little nervous, she thinks. Probably because they were sort of all up in each other's business last night, and this is someone she seriously doubts has any idea of bisexuality or indeed, anything outside the medieval heteronorm, but that's half the fun, surely.