Tea with Chase
The View From The Window
Interlude: Tea with Chase
Reverie lazily flew through the cold, gray clouds of the dull overcast sky, and felt like she belonged.
She allowed herself to be aimlessly cast about by the frigid breezes that spoke of the oncoming winter. She ignored the long minutes of shivering caused by misty water vapor condensed into a veneer of sleet over her coat and feathers. The cold had made her body numb, and her mind had already been numb besides.
They're coming faster now.
She was buffeted by a gust from the west, and her ears twitched to the sound of cracking icicles as her wings flapped to regain lost altitude, shaking off a layer of frost in the process. But these things, like the little tufts of down caught in bits of ice and pulled from her wings, went unnoticed.
When her visions had first started, in her early teen years, it had been only a comparative handful; two or three a year. At present, eight years later, it was typical for her to have a vision about once every month or so. But these past two dreams...
Her recent visions had been comparatively mild, but Reverie was growing increasingly aware that this wasn't going to keep. How long would it be now until she saw something darker? How long until the next Rampant Pandemonic – the next Light of Moon and Fire?
Reverie was not the worrying type. She had flirted with the idea when she was younger, spent a few months panicking now and then about whether these dreams had doomed her to insanity, particularly after one of them had left her shivering through the night in abject horror for weeks on end, haunted by the enduring vision of all-seeing serpentine eyes. In the end, though, she had – more or less by inevitable necessity – decided to forgo the degree program in screaming terror and instead chosen to adapt, living her life as it came and not fixating on how things could go wrong years in the future. She thought, when it sprang to mind from time to time, that it was one of her more insightful decisions.
Today was a very different day.
Nineteen days. Not even three weeks apart.
Reverie was worrying. More accurately, Reverie was frightened. She had years ago noticed that her visions were coming more quickly as time progressed, yes, but it had always been subtle – gradual. Over the course of a few months, there would be a day or two less between dreams. But her most recent two...
Not only had they broken the years-established patterns of content and distance, but the time between them had jumped from thirty-odd days to only twenty. Even with roughly monthly visions, her usual post-dream fugue was already affecting a good quarter of her waking life. For that now to be increased again by half?
...And how long until the interval shortened again? Would it jump just as abruptly? After another few visions, would it be fifteen days between? Ten?
How long would it be now, before she was having these visions every time she slept?
Could I even live like that?
And another thought, one from so many years ago, that had for so long been silent:
...Would I want to?
She wasn't entirely sure, just then, whether she wanted to burst into tears or cry out in furious grief—
The wind shifted, suddenly stolen from beneath her wings, and Reverie tumbled through the air, her head suddenly pounding with the ringing of funeral bells, and it was so cold, just so cold—
Her eyes snapped open and her wings followed suit, their coating of frost flung off into a corona of sparkling crystals; her pinions flared and dug into the air, tearing from it the strength to soar, and with a great rush of wind she pitched up into the bleak gray clouds—
And then she broke into the sunlight.
She shivered a few times, suddenly aware of how frosty she'd become, as she glided along the calm air above the cloud bank, basking in the warming sun.
Was I really just thinking...?
Reverie gave her head a good thrashing shake to drive the dark thoughts away, pausing when her ears twitched to the sound of distant ringing.
Bells...
Not funeral bells, as her terror-gripped panicking mind had earlier perceived. Rather more mundanely, it was the Mareford clock tower striking the hour.
Counting the first, rather grievously misinterpreted ring, the tower bell rang four times, which about lined up with the position of the sun angling toward the western horizon.
Four in the afternoon already? My how the time flies when one's mind is lost in wild panic, chasing its—
Oh, ponyfeathers.
Reverie took just a brief moment to smack herself on the forehead with a hoof, before diving back through the cloud bank, and angling for Gia's cafe.
By virtue of flight the journey only took her a few minutes, and she was soon setting her hooves down on the smooth cobblestones of Station Road. The wide avenue was conspicuously unoccupied for a Friday afternoon, an unexpected blessing courtesy of the scheduled rain in the coming evening.
A quick glance around did not find a certain blue stallion cantering up any nearby streets toward the cafe, which meant that Chase was either late, or had already arrived early.
She hadn't really asked him to tea, of course, but he would be here. This wasn't the first time that Reverie had danced this particular waltz with a Hooftons stallion, and she knew well enough how to dictate the steps.
Those steps did not typically include her being late to her own appointment, but in the end it was easy enough to take advantage of. A lady, after all, arrived when she wished to.
Stepping into Gia's cafe, she shrugged off a persisting shiver, and tried not to think about just how much she was hoping to find company awaiting her.
It was a different place, the cafe, without the sunlight streaming in through the broad front windows. But the sky was dark, and drab, and gray today, and so the interior lamps were all lit, lending their warm orange oil-flame glow to the polished brass and carved oak woodwork that made up the structure. It was one of the few places in Mareford that eschewed mana crystal lighting, and very much by intent, as Gia refused to trade the welcoming glow of the flickering lamp flames for the cold hum of industrial magic.
As she stepped up to the counter, Reverie felt the last lingering cold falling away.
"Buonasera, Mamma Bello," she called softly over the serving counter to the elder mare sorting stocks of tea on the rear shelf. Gia quickly turned, and her face blossomed into a matronly smile upon sight of her may-as-well-be-goddaughter.
"Ah, Reveranza," Gia said warmly, reaching a hoof over the counter to gently brush the young pegasus' cheek, in place of leaping it entirely to wrap her in the more traditional hug.
Reverie leaned into the comforting touch, part of her mind flitting to a time that Gia had just up and jumped the counter, and the memory brought to her face a thin smile.
The peace didn't last though, and Gia soon brought herself in close, her expression turned to concern. "You have paled since we last spoke, child. Another of your troubled nights?"
Reverie said nothing, gently nodding with a quiet mm, and bless her, Gia was always kind enough never to ask anything more about it.
"...Well then," the elder mare began quietly – and was that a touch of mischief? – "perhaps it is not such a bad thing that a handsome stallion came in just recently asking after you. What better way to banish an uneasy night, then with a little restlessness of your own, hmm?"
Yes. Definitely mischief. For all that blessed silence that Gia kept in never asking about her dreams, such did not extend to her giving advice in how to deal with them.
Reverie perked a brow, staring at the earth pony matron with an expression diplomatically called skeptical, but the calm and composed Gia Bello shrugged it off like so much rainwater, returning the younger mare only a pleasant, genuine smile.
"I directed him to your usual table." Gia said casually, returning to sorting her teas.
Reverie was caught rather unawares by that, blinking a few times as it processed.
"...Did you now?"
Gia's silver-flecked scarlet mane bounced with her nonchalant nod.
"I did. I thought him handsome enough that if you did not yet know him, then perhaps you should come to."
"Well, my, how considerate of you," Reverie said, forcing just a hint of politeness out through her gritted teeth as she turned her head to the right, spotting a touch of lamp-lit blue visible where her mother had been sitting two days before. "Luckily enough, however, I was expecting him."
Gia cast a glance back at that, her eyes glittering and smile lopsided – weighed down by all the implications she was trying, and plainly failing, not to make.
"I shall send tea, then?" The elder mare asked simply.
Reverie nodded, conceding the point. There was no victory to be had here – only the minuscule dignity of a hobbling retreat.
"My chocolate and mint again, per favore."
Reverie then set her hooves to a walk toward her usual booth, glancing about and taking stock of the cafe. It was impressively quiet today; there was a well-presented older stallion in a sport coat by the front window engrossed in a paper, probably the finance section; a pair of mares over on the far side near the stairs to the rooftop patio, a white pegasus and lemon-yellow earth pony, conspiring in subdued gossip.
It was a far cry from the usual bustling business, but she welcomed the privacy, not least because she was essentially, if not officially, here on a bit of a date.
Something that was not lost on Ancora, apparently, as he glanced toward her usual table and its unexpected visitor, then back to her with an arched brow and curious expression, as she passed by the register. She answered his unspoken query with a pleasant smile and gentle shake of the head, which the younger stallion promptly did not believe for a second.
Well, she couldn't exactly blame either him or his mother for their assumptions. They didn't really know just what it was that truly separated her from the typical Hooftons mare—only that she occasionally had problems sleeping. The critical difference, though, was that they were good-natured about their teasing, and that made it easy for her to forgive.
Much the same as she had done with Chase himself, when he'd shown his willingness to swallow his pride that first meeting a few days ago, and why she was currently here in the first place, she remembered.
Pushing aside her budding hesitation and its usual collection of groundless worries, Reverie took a few final steps to the waiting table, and smiled as Chase looked to up to greet her.
"Ah, Miss Reverie! I was starting to—er, well..."
Is he blushing? Already?
"...Starting to wonder if I wasn't coming?"
She laughed quietly, taking her seat across from the fidgeting stallion, who chuckled nervously, and eventually nodded.
"Well, uh, yes, basically. I've already tipped what little hand I had to play, haven't I?"
Reverie matter-of-factly nodded.
"Forfeited the game entirely. Really, in a way it's adorable."
Chase raised a hoof to his face with a sigh, shaking his head in disappointment.
"Never before have I met a mare who so easily trounces me in social graces. How do you do that?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his tone.
"Composure, Chase Justice,” she answered simply. “A great deal I was taught by my mother, but I've also learned how to weave my way through Hooftons intrigues by necessity."
A pair of teacups enveloped in slate-gray magic floated over from the counter, setting gently down on the table after Chase pushed aside the papers he'd been reading earlier. Reverie thanked Ancora with a smile, in response to which he offered a disinterested shrug, followed by a pointed glare toward the other side of her table. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, shaking her head at him, but he simply walked away to the far side of the serving counter.
Her view panning back to Chase, Reverie saw him staring off after Ancora with an expression of curiosity.
"Ancora's a friend," she said, bringing his attention back to the present, "going back some years. He's just feeling a little protective, is all."
"Protective, is it?" Chase replied, glancing back toward the younger stallion presumptively. "You're sure 'jealous' isn't a better word?"
At that Reverie arched a brow, snickering.
"I think it's perhaps a little too cliché for my childhood friend's secret feelings to be revealed just as I'm meeting a prospective love interest. Besides, he's been seeing a lovely unicorn mare for several months now."
"Ah. Protective, then," Chase said quickly, taking a sudden and pointed interest in his cup of tea, which he nearly spilled in his haste to put something in his mouth aside from his hoof. He paused, though, eyes widening as he actually drank some of the warm refreshment.
"...Chocolate and peppermint?"
Reverie smiled.
"You see? Nothing to worry about."
He sipped at the tea again, taking a moment to more carefully evaluate the unexpected flavor, before setting his cup down and looking to Reverie.
"I have nothing to worry about based on the flavor of my tea? I'm going to need an explanation for that one."
Reverie took a deep drink of her own, savoring it for a moment, before answering.
"Chocolate and mint oolong is my tea, Chase. Gia obviously knows that, but she made you a cup, and Ancora also knows that, but he didn't angrily dump it in the sink – or on your head when he floated it over. So you've passed inspection."
Taking a moment to consider her point, Chase took up his cup of tea again, swirling it around a few times before once more sampling the rich and refreshing liquid. He was lost in thought for a long moment, before he eventually looked up from the cup.
"...Alright, I’ve decided."
Reverie tilted her head to the side, curious.
"Hm? Decided what?"
He matched her impenetrable icy blue eyes with his own deep sapphire, serious and intense.
"I'm taking you to dinner."
She raised a brow and creased her lips into an intrigued smile, but nonetheless wagged a reproachful hoof.
"Ah, ah, Chase; you passed their inspection. I didn't say that you've passed mine."
The rules of the game dictated that at this point, Chase was supposed to relent, perhaps playfully ask her as to just how he could do that. Maybe suggest surprising her with flowers, or serenades at her window.
To her surprise, however, Chase didn't relent. Rather just the opposite.
"You've captured my interest, Miss Reverie, and I freely admit it. So give me that chance, and let me take you to dinner."
Her eyes went wide, not at all having expected him to so directly cut through the social ritual around which the Hooftons revolved. Accordingly shocked, Reverie found herself scrambling for something to say.
"Er, well, are you...so sure that's a good idea, based on how your time with me has gone so far?"
It was a desperate play toward the usual game, and she knew it wasn't going to take before she'd even finished saying it. Chase didn’t hesitate even a moment in his response.
"You are the most interesting mare I've met in, you know, maybe ever; there isn't just something about you, there's a whole cadre of somethings. So yes, I'm sure seeing you is a good idea. Quite possibly one of my best."
Reverie contemplated him for a long moment, reading the clear determination in his expression, the spark of fascination in his eyes, and the sudden confidence in his smile. But no, he wasn't trying to be clever and pull one over on her. He was completely serious, calling the round, laying down his cards.
I suppose I ought to myself, then.
A sip of tea was taken, and the Reverie that set down her cup was not quite the same one who had picked it up.
"Before you go jumping into commitment on this, Chase, there's something you should know."
"And what might that be? Wait—you're not going to tell me you're actually married," he asked, eying her curiously.
"No, no," she replied with a shake of her head, "nothing so dramatic as that. I just feel I should advise you, Chase, that I'm not all charm and wittiness and dancing through social graces. I come with some...strings attached."
He nickered, and shrugged.
"This is the Hooftons, Miss Reverie. I'd challenge you to find me a pony who doesn't have some kind of strings, or baggage, or skeletons in their closets, sometimes literally."
She laughed quietly, shaking her head again.
"You're right, but that isn't quite what I mean. Chase...I know you're relatively new to Mareford, but you're still a Hooftons pony. Does the name Reverie Dreamflight really not mean anything to you?"
He leaned in closer to her, that confident smile returned, and Reverie was surprised to be unable to tear her eyes from his.
"It means plenty to me. It means a beautiful, intelligent mare, who as I said, is the most interesting pony I may have ever met; and I'm taking her to dinner, and nothing else really matters."
Reverie found herself looking across the table at a different Chase than she had sat down with. The one she'd met two days before, the one that had been waiting for her when she'd arrived at the cafe...well, he was cute, and endearing, and absolutely adorable when he tried to lay on the charm.
Looking back at her now, though was one who was unabashedly bold, unquestionably sincere, and indisputably more her type than she'd previously thought.
Her cheeks were hot. She knew she was blushing, and she knew he could tell.
I should tell him plainly, she thought, her mind still spinning. I should explain my reputation, what being seen with me could do to him—
How long has it been since I blushed like this?
I should tell him to run away from me before it ends up costing him something. Or I should just save him the trouble...and say no.
Reverie took a deep breath, calming herself, and opened the eyes she hadn't noticed she'd closed to find Chase still sitting across from her, waiting and smiling patiently.
This evening tea had not gone at all like she had expected. But she knew what she had to say. She knew all too well.
"Well, I'm...I'm free this wednesday?"
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Oh please continue this! I hardly ever read OC stories but this is just so very well written
1694745 Oh, don't worry. Reverie's telling her story, just not as fast or directly as I'd perhaps prefer. But it'll be finished
2172355 Zomg! Comments on View! *single tear* It's all I ever wanted.
View from the Window is, as you may note / may be obvious, my first released story. Furthermore, the first chapter went from idea to post in a single night, and the story overall has no real official plan or structure. It's something of a character study of my writing overall, really.
To that end, a little study (read: a passing glance) reveals that my writing has visibly improved since I did those first chapters (the later ones are likely more to spec). In particular, the opening lines of Ch 1, where you pointed out my overuse of 'ignore' -- I would never do that now. It took me two seconds of looking at it to realize that the second case, "allowing it to be ignored" doesn't even need to be there at all.
So, yeah, it could absolutely be tightened up. In particular I've started polishing up my environmental details, and want to work on more reliably utilizing body language (in particular, ponies' tails and prehensile ears). I won't be changing anything current, though, at least not yet; perhaps once it's finished in entirety, it may merit a revision.
In regard to Reverie herself, oh, it's not just her paintings she's conflicted with. Being an OC-centric story, View allows me to return to my old authorial habit of being an absolute bastard to my characters, and...well, once I kick my ass back into writing it, you'll see.
Now, as to Shameful Reflection...I do indeed favor Twilestia, but my close second-favorite pairing for Twilight is with Rarity. Are we so sure it's a princess?
Mature fiction...I may try my hoof at it, though not in any contrived oversexualized way. I have a story or two planned that could leverage a mature tag for a blatant, unabashed rendering of their relationships; but that's for later. At present, I can't write sexual scenes to save my life. But sensual? I'm can make some heads explode, I tell you what.
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I completely missed that you replied to this!
Anyway, sorry for not getting back to it faster. I'll try to do some more reading this weekend and continue with some thoughts. (I've been off pre-reading for PoweredByTea and getting some of my own stuff pre-read)
It looks like I gave you a bit of a readership boost on this one, though! I didn't really expect that to happen, but it makes me very happy.
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Entirely by design. Careful design, as the first draft was revised when my editor told me it was weighted clearly toward one over the other. Also, while View is my first published story, it's very, very far from the first thing I've written. I've been writing for years, just never released anything until ponies viciously wrenched the creativity from my tenuous grip.
Also, the strawberries tell you something critically important about Reverie. She likes strawberries.
Yes, that's all.
I take certain liberties with View that I wouldn't with other stories, because it's a dyed-in-wool Slice of Life. There isn't a great epic conflict, there aren't clashes between good and evil, there aren't archetypal characters with deep issues to resolve through narrative. It's just a story about the day to day life of a pegasus mare who paints. Oh, and she happens to see dreams, too.
Slice of Life, at least in my opinion, by nature necessitates little mundane details like her snacking on strawberries, and getting up at dawn to wait for the perfect light for a painting everyone but her is going to ignore. Other things like that are also present in later chapters, but I'll not spoil them.
As for show vs. tell, that's something that's been mentioned so many times since I started writing pony that I near viscerally despise it now--particularly because it's often stated as a catch-all excuse by editors / prereaders who don't know how to give proper critiques. This is neverminding the fact that many great famous authors will tell all the time, and showing for an entire story leads to something aptly described as new-age zen philosophy, where it sounds deep and moving, but you can't be sure what anything means. This isn't intrinsically a bad thing--see Twilight Sparkle Makes a Cup of Tea for example--but as a rote law of writing, it's summary bullshit. (I may or may not have strong feelings about how some people in the fandom talk about 'good writing'...)
That about sums up my ranting. I look forward to future dialogue
Oh, and a lovely shot, that, if a little contrast-heavy for my particular taste.
Dah! There isn't any more to read now! And what a place to leave it!
This is becoming a decidedly odd story. I liked the premise quite a bit – a pegasus painter who saw the most intimate dreams of those around her, painted them, and really wanted to get out from under that simplistic summary. And, as of this chapter, I'd say she officially has. The dream story is interesting, and integral to my understanding of Reverie, but at this point I care a lot more about her and learning what you have in store for her. I don't know if it's an intentional bait-and-switch, though I have to think so, given how this was nearly discussed verbatim in the first chapter. I certainly don't mind. I thought the story as it was presented in the description sounded interesting and fun to read, but I find the story I'm getting to be much the better.
Okay, so let's do my habitual pick-apart.
I don't know if it was because you seeded the weather so well in the earlier scene, or if it's just that this is a very well constructed bit of writing – probably both – but this jumped right off the screen at me. I've enjoyed your descriptions elsewhere, but not like this. I found this particular bit positively immersive. I don't know that there's a whole lot useful to take away from that, but I wanted to highlight it. And I'm still loving Gia's. A lot.
In fact, if I let myself succumb to my full quota of native nerdiness, I really want nothing so much as to see Dotted Line visit Gia's. This is a thought that won't leave me alone now.
I know, I've been remiss, I haven't read it yet, but was this actually the veiled reference I expect it was?
And finally, Chase.
Well. Wasn't that interesting. I've got some serious expectations building here. I feel like his assertiveness here reinforces what I was saying last chapter, somewhat, about it feeling odd that he gave up in quite the manner that he did, but I recognize that real people aren't fully consistent characters, so I can't really get too worked up about it. That said, I love him here. He's just a pleasure to read, especially when he's being masterful, and I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes.
One other thing I want to say, and interpret this how you will. I was just reading Ezn's writing guide the other day – I always enjoy reading writing guides – and I believe it mentioned something about the differences between fanfiction and regular fiction. That's been on my mind a fair amount today while I've been working on my next sizable piece of writing, which involves a canon-connected frame story but otherwise very much a piece of original fiction that happens to be set in this world. And I'm finding that this story reflects a few of the concerns I've been having about my own story. It is a piece of MLP:FiM fanfiction – it does involve canon characters, and it takes advantage of the special talents of pegasi (and to a lesser extent unicorns). But it's a close-run thing, and I think clearly this story could be told outside the fandom with little difficulty. I'm not really sure how, or if, I feel about that, but it's something I'm noticing tonight. I could elaborate the thought and its implications further, but I'll leave it alone for the moment and let you think of it what you will.
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Hm. I suppose it does look that way, doesn't it? Clearly she has nothing to worry about...
The same thing happened to me; I'm rather smitten with Reverie. And in great regard, the story has shifted to that--but it's alongside the original premise, rather than supplanting it. At least, so it seems to me based on what rough 'plan' I have going forward.
Shhhh! If you mention the Service three times they will appear! I don't know if Mamma Bello has enough tea in all the shop.
Put plainly, whenever I use the word composure, it's always a reference of some degree. Yes, it's that good. You're denying yourself for not having read it yet. I was going to say, your followed authors list has a conspicuous gap...
Now then.
Chase...Chase is a guilty pleasure, I suppose you could say.
I was out walking one day when it popped into my head that Reverie happens upon a love interest, and I ran away with it. Chase Justice is the result: The essential Hooftons' stallion, shaped by a wealthy, high-class upbringing. He's confident, he's (supposedly) charming, he's used to things--and mares--simply coming to him, because that's just how it works. And then he meets Reverie, a gorgeous pegasus with the artist's aloof mystique, and obviously she's just going to melt under his suave attentions, right?
Except that Reverie is the essential Hooftons' mare, and with the addition of having long been socially maligned, because of her work. In response, she's learned very well how to recognize, and deconstruct those who walk that world--which is why she takes Chase's supposed-charm, shreds it to tattered ribbons, and pats him on the head with a bemused smile. She's not just out of his usual league, she's in an entirely different realm.
But then, of all things, he takes it like a stallion. Which rather surprises her; just maybe he isn't what he looks like at first glance. Maybe he can learn to play a better game--which he does, very well might I add, the next time they meet. Reverie went into that cafe planning to have a nice cup of tea, and gently push aside any idea of romantic involvement. Now, I mean that seriously, as the author; I sat down to write a scene where she turns him down, and it was going to go into how she's had to do it before, and why, and the baggage she's forced to carry with her.
Instead, she left with a date. (She's still not quite sure how that happened.)
View could very easily be an original work, along with a few of my other ideas that are vibrant worlds and sets of characters that are then situated in Equestria. And hey, maybe someday I'll rewrite the whole thing as an original piece; it's not like precedent doesn't exist for publishing that sort of writing (quality-suspect precedent though it may be...).
At present, though, I didn't start writing View, or even start writing again at all, to make original works. I started writing again because of ponies. Because through ponies, I found things like Eternal and Composure, and seeing words dance on the page like that stirred in me the wayward embers of ancient warrior-poets, long consigned to ages past, until I was once more seized by an impatient muse.
I've written enough again that I could step away from ponies if I wanted; it's served its term as authorial triage. But the time I've spent watching the show, basking in the community, reading dozens of, and then writing a few, stories--there's an Equestria in my head now, with its own mane six, and background ponies, and in particular a very precisely defined Princess Celestia. And I'm rather content to live here for a while. Hell, part of me may never leave, and that's okay.
2216203
Okay, okay. This is next up in my queue, then. I've put it off long enough, and it's not the word-monster that the other apparent classics are ("Past Sins" at over 200,000 words and "The Immortal Game" at nearly 300,000). I'm out of View, so Varanus is going to be the new recipient (victim?) of my extremely detailed commenting habits.
2216650 Feel free to tell him I sent you. I'm shameless in milking my exposure.
Past Sins is pretty good, I would say certainly worthy of the praise it's earned, though it didn't strike me stupid the way Eternal, Composure, some other stories have.
Some other stories does, however, include The Immortal Game. Absolutely fantastic stuff.
Edit: Oh, and I ought to mention, View chapter 7 is in the wings, over half completed. I've just been distracted by oneshots of late.
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Yup. I do remember seeing that while digging through your old blog posts, as well as a suggestion that it's about half done right now. I live in hope!
Oh, and...
Don't worry, I did.
She needs to swap the sugar for black pepper, trust me on this.
Also I too must agree that Mamma Gia's café description as previously commented on, did indeed work spectacularly as a piece of descriptive world-building. I know when prose is good because I get HD pictures in my head; I could see my reflection in the brass lamps. Likewise the train journey.
Got linked here from "Purple Prose". I enjoy a well written OC story with good world-building. Thanks.
I have to say, one of my favorite things about getting a hit boost on Purple Prose is watching people read the author's note and trickle over here to read "View from the Window". It's wonderful, and it makes me happy every time new people read it.
Though, of course, chapter seven would make me even happier.
I've quite enjoyed reading through this story; it's a rather unique concept, Reverie's dreams. I'm looking foreword to the next chapter, whenever that may be.
I really do hope you finish this story. sorry to bother you.
I haven't cracked this story open in -- years, probably -- but I saw it while scrolling through my tracking list for unrelated reasons, and was reminded that it's left quite an impression on me. It's not even the premise or characters I remember, but the setting and excellent sense of verisimilitude. Maybe I only remember it that way because I read this in my enthusiastic first blush of fanfic reading, but I definitely remember disliking a few stories from that time too.
Keep writing this you fuck
Seems legit. c:
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glad to see you're still around even if this story isn't