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[color=Silver]	Ah, what an unmistakable dreariness: time. The day was spent in false company. Many people surrounded him, and yet he felt as if he were there all alone. People came and went, talking with or to him. Ideas for scripts, camera discussions, compliments towards the last year's work and appreciation for contemporary pieces. He smiled, sometimes, and carried on with life as it was. The same old anchor that tied his feet to the ground still held onto him. He couldn't shake it, nor could he loosen its grip. It felt hurtful to admit that he'd lost a lot of hope in finding what he ever so desired. And so, he continued to just work as he always did. Maybe someday it would come. Maybe it wouldn't. He didn't know but he surely did care. It was one of those [i]things[/i], those sparks that can't catch alight. Split asunder between his true needs and his personal situation, he simply dragged himself to the toilet every so often to catch a breather and a drink of water.

	As the day went on, he began to drift into his mind. He thought back to the dream he had. A blue room laced with velvety strings, coating the bridge of a ship's interior. It had been so...surreal. Chalking it up as a dream didn't feel right. Something felt different about it, like he physically sensed things a man usually wouldn't. From the long-nosed captain to the spiritedly intriguing figure beside him, it stemmed from no prior schema or experiences he'd had before. It wasn't a creative pounce. That worried him, but it also made him more intrigued by what it had been. He began to think over the small details he could remember, just as if he were there in person. The shaking the sea yet the stillness of the ship. Sails tattered and loose, being dragged along in the wind. Metaphorically, he had no clue what it meant, at least from the vague memory he held of it. Oh, the cold furnaces and funnels that weren't active. Something about them seemed to catch his attention, but to what reason was still unknown. Most of his reminiscence came from within the room.

	The man with the long nose, as he'd be known as, was a very distressful figure. He spoke with an eerie tone, one that felt too provocative of a stalkers tongue. The things he said, the suggestions he made. Bets, games and keeping a close eye? But he wasn't the only one in the room either. Laurence stood amidst several figures of unknown shade. Clouds and gases covered their faces. God, the entire thing befuddled him. He wanted to know. He had a desire to learn about the dream, if it were a one-off special to his weird imagination or something of a premonition? It couldn't be, he thought. Those were things beyond real cognition; a pseudoscience perhaps? Either way, it puzzled him through the entire day, right up until he'd decided that he'd done enough work. He wasn't sure if he'd be heading out to his [i]treated[/i] dinner that night or if it was a reschedule. Either way, Fiddle would've called to have let him know later on.

	The time? 5:30pm, on the dot. He felt a strange thump in his head. It ached for a little while, forcing his hand to hold against his temple. The plummet felt extraterrestrial. A murky tailor to his scalp suddenly discomforted him. It lingered and it toyed with him for a while, increasing its irritation over the course of a few minutes. Rotten luck, he imagined it was nothing more than a migraine at the very worst. It didn't ruin anything in the day, only discomfort. One of the small things in life that would pile on to the endless seas of struggles that one must face. He looked back up at his phone. 5:42pm. Time really did fly past when there was nothing to work for. He sighed. And so, he slung his bag over his shoulder, collected his laptop and walked towards the nearest exit.

	The air felt fresh, yet poisoned. Each step he took felt riddled with motion sickness. He staggered once or twice, but maintained his course. Getting home was the priority. The campus was huge, taking a while to cross from one end to the other. And along the way, as he walked down a particular alley leading behind the science department, something began to warp around him. The sky. It...shifted? No. It changed colour? Or did it? The warps and waves fluctuated through the sky. Ripples bounced all around him. A violent agony besieged his forehead. He didn't know where it was coming from or what was happening, but he could've sworn an entire mist appeared when he closed his eyes, falling to a single knee. As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone near him, nor in the same alleyway. He tried to speak, but felt his throat close tightly. His eyes shimmered with bright lights and crude obscurities, like clouds. And before he knew it, there was an awfully unrecognisable change occurring around him, one that would forever begin the path he and many others were unaware they'd take.[/color]