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]

It wouldn't be like her to lie, though it's also quite shocking to hear her volunteer information that he can find helpful, even clearly meant to aggravate as it is. Against his better judgment he touches the mark again, scar tissue invested with ink, a permanent fixture of his dreaming self now? He frowns grievously at the thought, waves off her question irritably. It's not a bad suggestion though, however mockingly she'd meant it, and the idea of taking chimera form floats to the top of his mind, only to likewise be waved away. For one thing, he'd probably swamp the boat. And he certainly doesn't need the TARDIS to play mirror, what an atrocity of an idea.

"It was Johnny's mistake," he says, bright tone doing nothing to hide how aggravating it is to be scrutinised. "But don't rough him up for it too much, his account's settled up." And that's that. "Why not tell me? When have I ever been less than helpful."

[theoldgirl]

It's satisfying to see her remarks having an effect on him, but she doesn't get to enjoy it for long, completely taken aback by his answer. She almost thinks he's trying to lie again, but why would he blame Johnny, of all people, if it wasn't true? Inevitably she feels anger and protectiveness rising in her, replacing her surprised frown with a glare.

She wants to know what he did to the boy this time, what exactly to hate him for now, but before she can ask as much she realizes that it won't help Johnny anymore. Whatever happened, happened, and he is probably safely awake by now, if further traumatized. What she can do is to find out more about this strange injury.

His absurd question is easily ignored, and her glare punctuated with an incredulously raised eyebrow, though the mocking air has left her for good. "And how could the boy possibly have inflicted any lasting damage on you?"