The door to Sheeana's headspace is a rubber iris, incongrously decorated with Arabic-looking designs.
Step into it and the door hovers in the air over a vast desert at twilight. Looking over the dunes, the pink and purple light makes them look like the backs of great pods of candy whales frozen in migration. There are the ghosts of great sandworms there, translucent bodies miles long, roaring hauntingly.
There is a small, hardscrabble village, sorrounded by a moat of moist sand. The dwellings are simple hovels. Their inhabitants are fremen (http://www.lisashea.com/hobbies/dune/scifi/fremen2.jpg) in stillsuits. They are simple but honest folk, tenders of their desert home.
In the middle is a vaguely churchish looking building (http://www.rrp.lv/images/ropazi.jpg). Inside, women in black robes train in obscure martial arts, talk over spicecoffee, read and eat together.
All of these people are fully independent personalities and can talk to you themselves.
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Step into it and the door hovers in the air over a vast desert at twilight. Looking over the dunes, the pink and purple light makes them look like the backs of great pods of candy whales frozen in migration. There are the ghosts of great sandworms there, translucent bodies miles long, roaring hauntingly.
There is a small, hardscrabble village, sorrounded by a moat of moist sand. The dwellings are simple hovels. Their inhabitants are fremen (http://www.lisashea.com/hobbies/dune/scifi/fremen2.jpg) in stillsuits. They are simple but honest folk, tenders of their desert home.
In the middle is a vaguely churchish looking building (http://www.rrp.lv/images/ropazi.jpg). Inside, women in black robes train in obscure martial arts, talk over spicecoffee, read and eat together.
All of these people are fully independent personalities and can talk to you themselves.
Sheeana could be anywhere.