(This is a dream. Xavia is, in all actuallity, in the Infirm of the youngster school, in a comatosed state after having a seizure)

It was a dark place, this place in her mind... Her eyes opened only to stare at blackness, an infinate void of nothing, so thick it could almost be sliced with a butcher knife... She peered about in her silence, throat closing in anxiety, a gasp of air, heart beating a stacatto against her ribcage.

As she sat up, she knew a weakened feeling, waves of dizziness and nausea forming inside of her gown clad form. The folds of her sweet sixteen garb were sticky with the blood of her slain friends, the vitae caked on her face and hands, flecking her dusky skin like freckles on a redhead. Where was she?

The darkness parted like a slow motion scene, a curtain being pulled open by unseen hands into a new scene. Xavia stood then, stumbling to her feet to walk unsteadily toward the blurred vision before her: a city, a big one, with skyscrapers and clogged traffic, the stench of car fumes, trash, and offal assaulting her nose. New York, New York, so nice, they named it twice.

She knew then that she was dreaming, for she had never been to NYC, never seen the Statue of Liberty in person, never ran across the taxi jammed streets or the would be muggers who would try to steal her purse, if she had one. This was some place deep in the recesses of her mind, something that held fast and refused to waver.

Her skirt rustled in the breaze, and she brought her hand up to cover her nose and mouth, only to smell the metalic scent of blood instead of the city. Hell, that was better than garbage, she supposed. Her bare feet slapped against cold pavement as she stepped out of the blackness and into this vision of hers, a bewildered stare upon her fae like features, brow knit, tawny eyes staring out in confusion.

When the report of a car horn blared in her ear, she realized she was on the street, and she quickly ran toward the sidewalk, nearly tripping over people in her haste to get out of the way. Then, she was pushed by pedestrian hands, with the gruff voices of a rude New Yorker, "Get the **** out of my ****ing way!" And so she did, wandering aimlessly around Manhatten untill she could no longer take it, and found a random alley.

With that, she entered said place, and pressed her back against the cold brick of one of the buildings, sliding down to her butt and drawing her knees up, her arms slipping soundlessly around her legs, and she simply started to weep.

(This is a dream. Anne is in her room in the loft of Fedra's Coffee Cafe, tossing and turning, a terrible thunderstorm lashing the windows outside in response.)

This place, her mind, was a rain-lashed, lightning-scored, hail-battered mountain. A place in her heart where her soul had once resided. An empty hole in her psyche. Her eyes were closed, she didn't want to open them, didn't want to see the desolation that was her inner being. But, she couldn't help herself, couldn't control it, couldn't stop herself from looking out across the storm-ridden wasteland. Crying, she fell, falling backwards out into space, lightning and rain fading away as she descended from the realm of spiritual self-enlightenment into the realm of the type of nightmares that can only come from your greatest, darkest fear being fulfilled...

Her eyes opened, to see a night sky free of rain, of hail, of sleet, of snow, of anything. No clouds, just the stars, twinkling their hearts out. She looked to her side, down the dark back-alley she now found herself in, to see three men, dressed in government issue guard suits. They advanced on her slowly, stun-batons in hand, smiling and laughing evilly. "N-no. No. NO. NO NO NO NO NO!!!!" Anne screamed, backing up down the alley, crawling backwards on her hands and knees, screaming and trying with all her might to call up hail, lightning tornadoes, something, anything to keep the darkest figures of her past away from her. But the sky remained clear...

She was the cat in the hat. She was the cat who wore many hats. She was so many things, and so many things that she wanted to be that she couldn’t. Sara stood in a back alley. She was a thief, who burglarized people’s homes and picked their pockets till her feline belly could be properly filled. She was an artist, a survivor, a fighter, a lover. She was a killer of a man and at the same time, and avenger of six mutants, and a savior of who knows how many more. All in that same moment she took the other killers life. Sara was also an employee now, for an honest company, that did honest work. She was now their security consultant, because she was so good at being dishonest.

Sara leaned closer to a shabby looking mirror, as she adjusted the fedora on her head. She sat, cross legged on a desk, that was covered in various colored, papers. Some dirty and covered with black, muddy foot prints, some clean, and she stared at her furry face, in the wall mirror. The alley way had been made into her office. Sara didn’t actually have a desk like this, on the outside. Hell. On the outside of Sara’s head, she didn’t even have a desk. But here the outside, in the shadows of the big buildings was where Sara worked. It’s where she liked to work, and it’s where she liked to live. Even with the dinge of the city staining everything that she called her own.

Sara finally adjusted the had, correctly on her head, then rubbed the mirror with the back of her paw like hand, to try and smear away a clean enough window in the muddy glass. It was that moment that a girl stumbled into her alley way, that was her office, and she looked lost. The feline smiled and painted on a stiff toothy grin. “Hello Ma’Dear, How may I help you today? Security? Body guard? Theft? Murder? I’m no hero but I do them all.” Sara said more brightly than her conches mind liked to hear. Inside the feline cringed as her being that was in her dream hopped off of her desk with a flutter of papers and pulled a second chair out of the dumpster her mind had started using as a closet. “Here have a seat.”

"N-no. No. NO. NO NO NO NO NO!!!!"

Sara’s attention was drawn to the other side of the alley way. “Excuse me miss.” She shouted down. As she saw the men approaching the girl that was crawling on backwards towards them. The men continuing to press pursue her. “This lady can answer for herself, thank you very much and she was here first. Unless you can pay me in advance.” Sara turned with a flourish to offer the chair to the first girl that entered the alley way, to the second she turned and her smile creased the side of her furry cheeks. Showing more sharp teeth as her thumb and forefinger rubbed together. “Come on, come on. Who will hire the cat?”

She did not know she shared a dreamstate with another, did not know her mind somehow linked with that of an unfamiliar woman. Tears streaking her bloodied face, she wiped the back of her hand over her eyes, doing more damage than not. The sight of the woman crawling backwards in a crab-like fashion, caused her own brow to knit, and she saw the men too. Without thinking, she stood up and moved toward the woman, attempting to grab beneath her armpits and haul her toward the nearest tree.

When she was younger, she had learned this neat trick, though it almost never worked. But this was a dream, and things happened in dreams that sometimes wouldn't happen in real life. If the woman went with her willingly, she'd be pulled into the tree, melding along with Xavia into the trunk like that of a wood nymph. If successful, they'd be able to watch as the men stumbled around in confusion. When they didn't see the two of them in the streets, they'd probably move on to search the other out.

If and when they were gone, and the coast was clear, they'd come out of the tree unscathed, and she'd let go of the person she had a hold of. Her knees knocking some, she'd shudder andwalk on stilt like legs, back into the alley. Panting, she sat back down in the spot she'd abandoned, fingerstwisted in the stained material of her tawny gown. If the other followed, Xavia would look at her curiously, wondering if this was really a dream or not.

The fact that she could literally feel, smell, hear, see, and taste every little thing in this strange dream, made it seem more like reality than not. "Where are we?"

Her voice was thick with accent, a Romanian-Germanic sounding ring to it.

This whole time, she hadn't paid much attention to the cat....woman? Wha? What a strange dream she was having.

Anne was screaming incoherently, her fear overwhelming her brain, rendering her unable to do anything but weep and continue to crawl backwards, much slower than the advancing men. Then, strong arms grabbed her armpits. She screamed, lashing out at the person who had grabbed her, but she was weak and the crying had robbed her of most of her sight, so the person probably didn't even notice Anne was struggling, though she was still screaming. She kept screaming until suddenly a wall of brown seperated her from the men. She stopped wailing, and cocked her head questioningly.

The men wandered the area, scratching their heads and peering into every dark corner with their flashlights. They did not, however, seem to notice the cat-woman sitting at the desk, nor did they seem to be able to see Anne and the woman inside the tree. Finally, they walked off, and Anne was pushed out of the tree as the woman walked out, stumbling on shaky legs. Anne wasn't even that composed. She just sat down and laid her head on her knees. A heavy rain appeared as if from nowhere, a cloud forming from the clear sky like a miracle.

Story of the WereCat’s life. She seemed to be hidden in plane site as the two girls completely ignored her. There was one difference. She wasn’t actually trying to hide. For years on the street she kept her head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact and the one time she is trying to draw attention to herself for an honest buck doing not so honest things, she is ignored. Well that was just fine and dandy.

Sara sat back on her desk top, with her arms crossed and her legs dangling, kicking the side of her desk as the bad men surrounded her, didn’t seem to see her at all and passed right by. She stuck her tongue out at them as they passed and pulled her mouth to make faces at them even though they weren’t seeing her. When they left all was quiet till the girls reappeared. “Exciting day, isn’t it.”

Sara was not ignored, really, simply overlooked by the fae-like Xavia. But then, this was a strange dream, and it would only get stranger and stranger. She could feel as rain started to pour down, and her eyes lit up, the plant part of her giving a purr. In fact, she seemed to perk right up at the nourishing droplets, while a cute sounding, "Murrrrrrr" escaped her throat.

She pivoted after her ward was deposited on the ground, and blinked in confusion at the sight of the cat woman at a desk, outside in the rain. Didn't cats hate water? Now she knew it was a dream.

"Someone pinch me," she mumbled under her breath. "I sleep, and this is dream."

She threw a concerned glance toward the bundle of nerves that was Julianne, the girl she didn't know that she had rescued in her dream, then back at Sara. "Exciting? Hah. This is nightmare." Even as she said that, she felt pleasant, and the scent of roses started to thicken in the air.

Anne was still where she had collapsed, just barely regaining any sort of composure. She was shaking her head and mumbling to herself, in that way that little kids do when the get a bad dream and wake up in a fright.

"Just a dream, it's just a dream, not real, they can't find me, just a dream, just a dream."

Soon enough, however, the fear wore away, and she was able to stand once again. She walked over to Xavia, still shaking, and asked "What is going on here?"

Contrary to popular belief, Sara enjoyed the rain. It was a numb rattle that drown out the annoying noices of the city. It was the white noise that made people get off of the streets, even in the day light, and that opened the city up to her, when he was awake. The other girls came out of their hiding, and Sara sat on her desk, smiling. The papers on her desk were getting socked and the muddy ink that was printed on them was running, but she didn’t care.

"Someone pinch me,"

“ok.” Sara said lightly as she reached out with the curved part of her claws tucked into her finger tips and she used the pads on her fingers to pinch the Dryad. “Free of charge too.”

"Exciting? Hah. This is nightmare."

Sara tilted her head. “If it’s a nightmare, it’s a mild one.” Her ears flicked back and she bent back over her desk hunting for a page, that she didn’t know why she was looking for it, but in this dream it suddenly felt important to find the page.

"Just a dream, it's just a dream, not real, they can't find me, just a dream, just a dream."

“Oh repeating that always improves nightmares.” Sara mumbled as she bent over her desk, chucking pages over her shoulder with her tail tip up, like a submarine periscope. “Oh there it is.” She pulled out a page with a ink drawing. The colors were running into the rest of the image, shading the walls in the picture, of the room, and giving the door color, in the image, color. She held the picture up to the two woman, and the wind picked up. Blowing the damp paper out of her hand where it grew and plastered it’s self up, at the end of the alley way. The paper dissolved, but the ink stayed and became more solid till there was a wall with a door at the end of the alley way.

"What is going on here?"

Sara shrugged. “Hell if I know, but I’m not sitting in my office all night.” She began walking towards the door. She gripped the knob, turned it, and the door slowly opened.

(I hope this was clear. I don’t know if one of you two want to control what is behind the door or not. If you want to, go a head.)

If indeed they were linked at a dream, they might just see what she saw, then maybe they wouldn't. It was hard to tell. This was her dream, after all, or so she thought. They would possibly see as she had other images hurtling through her mind, for instance, the one about her being turned into a mutant by injection, or they would see the greenhouse and how she flourished there. Or the image of her laying in the infirmory, where she rested after being put into a seizure induced coma.

In the end, she was right back in front of the two women, dressed as she was in her sweet sixteen gown. A perplexed look crossed over her expression, and she stared at the two of them, who seemed to be talking, or not talking, about the dream they were sharing.

Xavia slipped to her knees and rubbed at her temples, her gown no longer there, and in it's place was the outfit she was wearing at the time of her kidnapping. More images leaked through of the men and the van, and she gave a soft groan. "See, nightmare..." she gritted out, keeping in mind that they might not have seen what she saw.

After taking a moment to recover, she peered at the strange door that appeared, it was a drawing come to life?? She stared at it, agog. "What is that?"

Sara saw the different images form this lady, flash back and forth, but they were entirely too close to what her own past had been like. At least the hole injection thing. She shivered… Needles.

Though the green house images did fascinate Sara. She thought of her little spider plant back at the warehouse, she was currently residing in. She named the plant Bob, and Bob was still in a bottle of water, though Bob probably needed dirt soon. Bob’s roots were easily 7 inches long.

“ok yeah. Not all the thoughts here are pleasant. That still doesn’t make it a nightmare in my books.” Sara said quite shortly and to the point.

"What is that?"

Sara glanced at where her drawing had blown to, and saw that it had become quite real. “A door.” Sara said lightly, Though there was a bit of sarcasm there. Why would someone have to ask what a door was? This girl was odd.

With her tail flicking, Sara made her way to the door and pushed it open. On the other side of the door, it was still raining, but there were trees growing on the other side of the door. Instead of the buildings that were originally surrounding them. “Odd.”

Xavia blinked as the door was opened, and the scenery that lay over the threshold of said door. "Odd is right," she muttered, caramel gaze seeming to shift to the other mutant, then, the feline, and she furrowed her delicate brows with some bemusement, little wrinkles marring the perfect smooth of olive skin. "So I dream, too, of big cat woman, strange is this dream."

She gave pause to look around her and assess her situation a bit more, but found no peace in the sight of clogged traffic and foul mouthed New Yorkers; nevertheless, she still remained calm. Hell, it was easy in this case, because she thought that it was solely her own imagination. Wouldn't it just freak her out if it was something real?

"Are we supposed to go through door?" she asked, lifting a hand to scratch her head, tapered fingers curling into the ruffled curls that topped her head. Xavia did indeed seem confused about everything, especially the portal that was left to stand open, while people meandered by without so much as a surprised gasp at the gaping hole in the side of a skyscraper.

"And," she went on to say, "Who are you? Now I dream of cat people, like that musical... Oh, what was it?" Silly woman, it was Cats, and why she couldn't remember such a simple name for a broadway show by Andrew Loydd Webber was beyond knowledge, though.

"So I dream, too, of big cat woman, strange is this dream."

“Not really.” Sara replied rather crossly. “I’m dreaming of a girl who can turn into a tree, and people who run by me and don’t seem me. That is strange.” So take that. She didn’t even point out the fact that this girl was in her dream and told her she was dreaming of her. Ha! Take that! That is strange. Who in their rightful mind would dream about Sara!

"Are we supposed to go through door?"

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know if it matters.” Still the door seemed more interesting than her desk here in the alley way.

"And, Who are you? Now I dream of cat people, like that musical... Oh, what was it?"

Sara’s furry lips curved into a smirk. “I’m called many things. Sara is the name I prefer, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring up the Lion King. As musicals go, that one sucked. I mean how ridiculous is that. People pretending to be cats. It’s more absurd than the first show, Cats! At least in the Lion King, people reframed from licking themselves.” Sara shivered. “Discusting.”

"Ugh, now you call me a liar. You do not need to know who I am! Get out of dream, furrball." Her arms akimbo, she glared at Sara, and lifted her chin. "I wake up any minute now, you will see..." she sang. Her eyes squeezed shut, then, and she waited. When nothing seemed to happen, no clicking of the ruby slippers, nor twister blowing her from Kansas, not the great glass elevator or Willy Wonka, and certainly not little people going after her lucky charms, she cracked an eye open.

Only to see the big cat lady again.

"Argh. Out of my way." Xavia moved off to the side and passed her, stepping firmly toward the open door. It was then that she paused, one foot poised over the threshhold, face contorting into a wary expression, mouth forming an "O"... And before she would lose her false sense of bravado, she quickly jumped through the door and into the raining enviroment on the other side.

Expecting to hit a wall, she instead, tumbled forward and gave a surprised squeek. Splat. Pitpatpitpatdripdropdrip... And the rain came pouring down in sheets.

Her favorite weather, oh glory be, the life giving nectar of the skies! Rain! Forgetting her qualms about Sara, she laughed and got all happy as she became a drenched being, hair plastered to her head, murrrrrrrr.

By that time, surely Sara would be staring at her as if she had gone daft, though she didn't look to see if that was the case. As long as the rain was falling, she was a happy plant-typed person thing being.

And did she ever act the fool, rolling around in the mud as she was? Why, certainly.

Sara crossed her arms when the odd girl told her she didn’t need to know her name. Ok no she didn’t need to know the girl’s name but the fact that she refused to give it, Sara found insulting. Sara had been nice. She’d given the other girl what she was called. So as the girl went on and on about Waking up, Sara crossed her arms and gave her a deadpan look.

The other girl had squeezed her eyes shut, and Sara stuck her tongue out. Using her fingers she pulled her cheeks out to the side and crossed her eyes. Then returned to the deadpan stare just before the other girl’s eyes popped open again.

A moment later Sara was following the other girl through the door, and into the rainy weather. Despite being part cat, Sara enjoyed the rain. It numbed all her other senses. Giving her a break. She was almost instantly blanketed in the rain water, and ran down her, in thick streams. Sara liked the rain, but she didn’t like the mud… though Mud didn’t seem to bother the other woman… “This proves it. My dream is much stranger than yours. Who in their rightful mind would joyfully role in the mud?” Sara sighed as she walked past. “Since you won’t give me your name, I’ll come up with one for you, myself, Skippy.”