And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The water is calm, and the night sky is filled with stars. The only light is natural: a patchy, bioluminescent glow coming from the water below, and the bright swath of the Milky Way above. It's not much, but it's more than enough to see by.

The dreamers will find themselves sitting in their own little rowboats, each stocked with two oars, a length of rope, some cushions, and a little picnic basket full of snacks. There is no visible shoreline, but it won't take the dreamers long to realize theirs are not the only boats in this shallow sea. Anything stirring in the water, be it fish or paddle, causes phosphorescent plankton to glow a bright blue, so there isn't really anywhere to hide.

Feel free to paddle around and visit the other dreamers, perhaps tying your boats together and sharing your snacks in an impromptu picnic. Or you could go for a swim - the bioluminescence makes it difficult to see the bottom, but it's not too terribly deep, so the risk of drowning is all but nonexistent. This setting, unlike the last one, isn't actively out to kill you. Or you could simply lie back and look at the stars.



[ooc: Same drill as always, folks. All are welcome, regardless of whether or not your character is in the game. Characters may remember or forget dream shenanigans at the player's discretion.]

Comments

[antitimelord]

Zagreus looks a little like he's on the wrong side of the window from a warm fireplace and a cozy rug. And he is, cosmically speaking. It must be nice to enjoy something so unconflictedly; Zagreus tsks a little. He certainly wouldn't know, himself, but he tilts his head clinically, surprisingly patient with the little ritual, as though studying this might give him some insight.

"Vampire, then? Or some other sort of connoisseur?" Go on, be a little more engaged, just for curiosity's sake. Has Adam answered a single question so far, besides offering up his name in a little hissyfit? Rubbish vampire. Where are the soliloquys and melodrama? The hygiene? Maybe that was a wrong guess.

[antitimelord]

He looks mortally offended by the squeak, and doubly so by her encroachment. "Here's one for you. Have you ever heard the saying, 'Look with your eyes, not with your hands?' It's a popular one with small children, who are generally considered capable of internalising it." He thinks he can hear echoes in what she's saying, about ink spreading and transcending, what nonsense, making him bristle without quite being able to put a finger on why. Is that what she thinks he is? Transcending his use? "Why can't I feel both?"

[spookyaction]

Adam nods and points loosely, still holding the decanter. "Got it in one," he says. "Well, the first one." He still feels drunk. Being so blithely open about it with some offbrand-demigod of a stranger. But why not? He peers at Zagreus, scrutinizing. "And what are you supposed to be, if not that Zagreus?" He can't imagine the name doesn't have some sort of meaning. Apple Martin and North West aside, he can't picture even the most self-absorbed celebrity zombie casually naming a child Zagreus. So this is something else.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine blinks again, this time in astonishment. It's one thing to transform yourself; changing other folk is a whole different matter (and requires a lot more power). She's seen it happen, but only in a battle between mages, not a… a council meeting. Horse lords. She considers asking for some elaboration, but Dana barrels on as if it's not the least bit remarkable for people to get transformed into other things, so Daine just tucks the information away for later. Outside a dream, perhaps, when she's more likely to remember what she hears, anyway.

We should! she agrees with a little squeak for emphasis. I'm in the park every day, but I know my way around most of the island. Granted, meeting in the park would be preferred, since it's familiar territory and getting there doesn't have to involve public transport. Where are you staying?

[bluesuit_handy]

Party successfully ruined. Enjoy your tea, Johnny.

Andrew glances up as he's digging out some mugs. This is the second new acquaintance in not so great an amount of time to jump to wary questions about alliance, though nowadays he's inclined to agree with those who have managed to remain unaffiliated. "With is a strong word," he says, pouring a mug and handing it over. "Let's just say I'm fairly well acquainted with the rebels."

[fucking_ebay]

"...Could you." Peter finally looks directly at her, finally sees that she's serious. He's not sure if he feels hopeful or if he wants to tell her that no, she couldn't. "How? You're not thinking of swimming for Jersey, are you, because I can tell you it gets worse than this."

[wildmage_daine]

Does it get worse, though? "Swimming for somewhere, anyway," she says, not sure how detailed she should get. "I could handle worse if it meant I was at least on my way to better."

[jennifer_strange]

Well, at least someone feels as if they understand the conversation, because Ballyhoo's recent questions have left Jennifer feeling metaphorically unmoored (that she's literally unmoored is just coincidental).

"I… I don't think it belongs to anyone," she says, brow furrowing. "It just is. And there are plenty of elements, so it doesn't just have the one." After a beat's consideration, she asks, "Who does your realm belong to?" She doesn't see how anyone can claim ownership of a universe, but she's curious about what Ballyhoo might say.

[johnny_truant]

"Okay," says Johnny hesitantly. He sips the tea and gives a satisfied little hum. "I mean, nobody even reached out to me. I would have been homeless if I hadn't met Jodie."

Oh. Whoops, that slipped out. He'd taken to actively not mentioning Jodie, knowing her desire for secrecy, but... Well, just saying her name isn't anything, right?

He waves a hand. "Just a friend of mine," he says. "So... are the rebels not worth it, or what?"

[has_a_horn]

He's grateful for her asking, and a little disappointed in himself that his worrying had been so obvious to her. He wants to comfort her, not burden her with anymore of his own problems.

Instead of answering her immediately, he keeps looking up into the sky. "Maybe it's random. Or someone else's memory, from a different universe." He lifts his hand up and makes a wiping motion with his hand, replacing the dream's stars for them with those that belong above Las Vegas in late spring, a hundred years before a single building was built there. It's still as dark and shining as before, but now it's a little more comfortable to look at for him. Hopefully, it will make her feel a little better about this dream too.

He sighs and looks down at her. "I saw my brother here. I think it was really him."

[canofwords]

His little scolding is met with an unconcerned, almost bored shrug; of course she's familiar with the saying, but she has neither eyes nor hands, strictly speaking, so what's it to her? His objection is a clever one though, and she releases his jaw with a theatrical roll of her eyes. "If you're going to be oxymoronic about it."

Bored of sitting, she throws herself down the length of the board, fiery mop of hair cascading down the gunwale while her bare feet stir the ocean. Not that she can feel much of that, but at least she's also still blissfully oblivious of the uneven rocking her exuberant motions keep causing. "Nasty little things, oxymorons," she muses, "contrary, impossible, give me indigestion." Turning half a glance and a patronizing smile on him, she adds, "I suppose you'd quite fancy yourself one."

[canofwords]

The CORDIS is out looking for prey, or a distraction, or any number of synonyms. Manifesting her avatar for Zagreus reminded her how much fun could be had playing with the matter monkeys, so she's scouring this shallow dimension, carried along by conversational fragments, shifting her chameleon meme to hide in nautical terms and exclamations of delight. She tries dressing up as rocking the boat once, but only one creature actually obliges her by using the idiom, what a waste.

Her impeccable sense for storytelling soon lets her pause at the recently asleep again Johnny. Now there's a damsel in need of some distress. She appears sitting neatly on the board across from Johnny, a vision in red hair and a gaudy sailor's dress, smiling pleasantly. It wouldn't do to give the game away too soon. "Excuse me, are you quite alright, dear boy? You look a little dead in the water."

[johnny_truant]

Johnny jerks sharply when she appears, upsetting the picnic basket. He'd been doing fine without company, staring around in numb dread. He can hardly believe he was able to fall asleep again after what Zagreus did to him. Not only that but that he came into the same dream. Ridiculous. Unfair.

But it's moving on around him whether he's ready or not, forcing him to interact, as always seems to be the requisite. After the initial shock of sudden company has worn off and he's had a moment to actually parse what she said, he's a little put off by it. Too accurate, too soon after what happened. He leans over to right the basket.

"How'd you know?" he says dryly. He sits back at peers at her, and it hits him like an all-too-predictable lightning bolt: oh no, she's hot.

He'd like to think he's grown up a bit since before the book, no longer needy and noticing every single woman (and... man, apparently) who stumbles across him. But apparently not. He averts his gaze quickly, automatically irritable, missing Gabe, the TARDIS, Charley - anyone known. New chaos is not invited.

[canofwords]

Too bad that new chaos doesn't need an invitation to stop by. She can taste he who sits inside your head all over him, on the underside of his skin and on the inside of his skull; Zagreus' little scribe. "It's written all over you," she replies sweetly, so pleased to meet him.

And more than that is written, she notices as her eyes scan the scrawny creature before her, coming to a halt on his arm. She's rarely seen a mark so heavy with meaning; the longer she stares the more words unfold from it, narration and oh, meta-narration, he's all wrought through with it, what a treat! Her eyes go wide with hunger, all affectation immediately forgotten, and she surges forward to her knees in front of him, firmly closing a hand around his arm. "Oh, you must tell me your story!" she exclaims, her glee rivaling that of a child in a candy store.

[johnny_truant]

"Wh-" Johnny stiffens and pulls back reflexively when she all but lunges at him, the motion stalled by her hand on his arm, clasping around his most recent tattoo.

"Must I?" he echoes, thoroughly bewildered - and a little disturbed - by her eagerness. He leans back a bit further, trying without exerting hardly any force at all - doesn't want to alarm, or put up a real fight, until he knows what her deal is - to tug his arm away.

"It's not a good story," he lies. He doesn't want to tell it, for his sake, for hers, and because it's not a good way to restart his dreaming experience. "Who are you?"

[canofwords]

What a great place to go fishing, apparently, at least for word ships in search of fun and whimsy. Who would have thought she'd run into another friend here? Well, practically a friend, she did only almost murder him that one time.

One moment, the scene is almost serene, and in the next she's laying at Ianto's side, mimicking his position perfectly. "Still indulging your sweet tooth, Ianto? You should know that isn't good for you." It's important to start a reunion from shared memories, after all.

[bluesuit_handy]

"I met someone they'd been keeping prisoner in order to force him to use his powers," says Andrew, explaining things plainly for once in his life. He doesn't feel like he's in great personal danger from them, but he's no longer in the habit of pointing homeless rifties their way. Speaking of homeless rifties....

"I know a Jodie," he adds thoughtfully.

[fucking_ebay]

"There's a lot more city than this," Peter points out. Irritated at finding himself trying to talk her out of it, he adds, "What the fuck do you want to leave for, anyway? You're not going to get home."

[wildmage_daine]

Daine scowls. He's missing the point. "There are other rifts out there - probably more than most folk even know about. And if this rift isn't going to take me home, why stay in Manhattan? I'd do better out in the wilderness." She huffs once, bitterly. "Or whatever passes for it." Maybe she'll aim for Canada or something.

[johnny_truant]

Well that doesn't sound good. Gabriel had never been so specific, just airing a generalized distaste. Johnny frowns and sips his tea contemplatively. When Anderw makes his addendum he perks up in surprise.

"Really?" he says. "Another rifty? Is there..."

Ooookay, hold up boy. Better not mention Aiden just yet, in case it's not the same Jodie. Or in case it is, and she doesn't want this guy to know about Aiden.

He clears his throat awkwardly. "Is she like... shortish, long brown hair? White girl?" How do you even describe white people? Johnny shrugs haplessly.

[slumberingwood]

Even Buffalo knows this one, and he interjects because even though it will annoy Ballyhoo. "The Lightweaver," he says.

Ballyhoo sighs dramatically, her moment of glory stolen from her. "We're from the Sunbeam Ruins," she says, making herself feel a little better by adding that detail. She frowns, confused. "How can a realm not belong to anyone? Who made the dragons there, then?"

"Maybe it's full of outcasts," suggests Buffalo softly, thinking of all the dragons that have made their way to their own clan from other flights.

[erratic_hematic]

Spike really has no interest in answering Aziraphale's first question. He's always enjoyed the world, even before he regained his soul. Appreciating is another thing entirely. Thankfully, he's saved from answering because the angel goes on to mention that he averted the apocalypse.

"You must be from a different dimension. Where I'm from it was me and my friends that did that." He considers for a moment. There was the time he died. That was definitely apocalypse-averting, but there have been a few other times that have come close. "More than once. Depends what you could call an end of the world situation."

[jennifer_strange]

Jennifer frowns a little. The thought of a universe populated by dragons (quite a few, by the sounds of it) is rather appealing on the surface. She certainly wishes her universe had more of them (though getting more is a problem, considering how they multiply). But it sounds like a dragon-dominated society isn't without problems.

"I don't know who made the dragons in my realm," she says, semi-truthfully. The ancient origin of dragons isn't fully understood, but it could be argued that she made the two currently in residence. "But there are only two of them. The world is mostly populated by humans like me."

Aziraphale may not quite understand how dimensions work

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale sits up a little straighter at that. "You?" he says, quite rudely, actually, and then quickly amends, "I mean - that's some awfully big, cataclysmic work for, you know... regulars." He waves a hand vaguely in Spike's direction. "I mean, Crowley and I are in the direct employ of those Below and Above, but it's not like they'll see just anyone. How'd you even know about the Antichrist, in your... dimension?"

The rest of what Spike has said catches belatedly up with him and he sits forward, frowning now. "More than once? No, no, I'm sorry, that's a one time sort of deal. Averting the ineffable, you know? Not the sort of thing that you just stumble across once in a while." He sits back and goes about drinking, satisifed that he's settled the matter and thoroughly unaware of just how much his angelic obtuseness privilege is showing.

[erratic_hematic]

Spike isn't entirely convinced. His own more menacing side is well hidden. If he would bear his own teeth right now, he'd be as convincing as this guy is. Still, the whole 'giant snake tail' thing really isn't all that undercover. It makes Spike lean believing him. If he could transform his teeth, surely that tail would transform too.

He moves closer, but doesn't sidle up just yet. "Some people are more dangerous than they look."