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

[sadie_doyle]

"We don't particularly want to associate with the supernatural - with a few exceptions," she adds, thinking of the Hendersons. "It just sort of… happens," she concludes with a vague but elegant wave of her hand. There's only so much avoidance one can manage when the supernatural tends to knock on one's door.

She gives the bottle a dubious look. It just seems so gauche, drinking straight from the bottle when you don't have the excuse of being a tiny, anthropomorphic pony with no opposable thumbs (or other fingers). But the demon has a point, and desperate times call for desperate measures, so she endeavors to take a polite sip from the bottle.

[anguiform]

'Oh, good. Much more sensible choice, alcoholism.'

Satanists just get very... earnest. Sometimes they even start trying to worship him, which is worse than the summoning and I heretofore abjure and command thee-ing. Or, well, sometimes he has a bit of fun with it, because who wouldn't, but mostly it's just awkward.

'What d'you do?' he asks casually after a moment. 'Just out of curiosity. It's not everybody who manages to unintentionally stumble into the occult.'

Maybe he's encountered one of his fellow demons' projects; one of the unnecessarily long, far too involved affairs required to net just two souls.

[frank_doyle]

"I always thought so!" Frank agrees, smiling fondly at Sadie as she sips elegantly, even with so inelegant a method.

"Well, we..." Frank frowns thoughtfully at the question. "Er... well, we're the Park Avenue Doyles!" That's usually enough for people. "Toast of the upper crust? Headliners on the society pages? And..." He's forgeting something important. He gives it a good think as he sips from the bottle. "Oh yes!!" He snaps his fingers in sudden recollection. "We see ghosts!"

[sadie_doyle]

"Equally at home on… some avenue and some other… otherwordly... place," Sadie agrees with a little nod and a flap of her hand. Well, she's had quite a lot of rum, and it's getting difficult to recall the specifics. "I've been speaking to the dead since I was a child, and Frank is simply marvelous at exorcisms. Among other things," she adds with a coy smile in Frank's direction.