applesaucedream | And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

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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.]

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Gabriel isn't too impressed with the setting, but at least it seems like it's not trying to kill him (for a change). When he arrives, he changes his little rowboat into something a little more comfortable. He leans back onto the plush red bed, a glass of wine in hand. The turntable built into the end of the boat plays something soothing, and he focuses up on the stars overhead. The night is comfortable and the boat is rowing itself along, churning up the bioluminescent plankton as it goes, leaving a trail in his wake.

Edited 2014-05-31 06:28 (UTC)

Why sit idly in a boat when you can simply walk upon the water? And it would be a lie to say that the sight of his vessel walking over the surface, light flaring at his feet, wasn't appropriately dramatic. So sue him, he was the devil and he knew how to make an entrance.

Lucifer stepped up onto the prow of Gabriel's boat, his weight causing it to dip forward slightly but not enough to tip or capsize; his feet were already dry by the time they touched the wood.

"Gabriel."

Gabriel feels his presence before he sees him, and it's a shock greater than he'd been expecting. The display is typical rather than surprising. It's Lucifer's presence itself that has him staring up at his brother for a moment before he can speak to respond.

He briefly considers that this is the rift's doing, but he knows Lucifer down to his bones and he is convinced that he's seeing the genuine article here now. "Lucifer. Wh-" He sits up and sets his glass aside. It seems almost impossible that he might have escaped the cage Gabriel had helped put him in, but there are others reasons he could be here. "Not come to try shanking me again, are you? Cuz you should know that's not gonna work in dreamland."

The surprise written so clearly on Gabriel's face was gratifying, to an extent. It didn't make up for his little brother's role in locking him up in the Cage to bicker with Michael for the rest of eternity, but it's the little things in life that matter.

"Really, Gabriel." There was cool condescension and a hint of disappointment on his face, the nonverbal equivalent of saying 'what do you take me for?' He'd walked through enough dreams before to know when he was in one. And, anyway, if he'd really wanted to try, Gabriel would already have a hole in him.

"This is hardly any way to greet your brother. If I didn't know better," Lucifer said, stepping down from the prow and into the boat, "I'd think you weren't happy to see me."

"Oh no, I'm just thrilled," he says, voice heavy with sarcasm. In truth, he's both frightened for what his appearance could mean and glad to see him still alive. He picks his glass back up, schooling his expression more carefully now.

"What happened to you? You and the big bro finally rumble hard enough to tear down the walls?" Also not strictly possible, unless someone actually let them out. It's more likely to Gabriel that Lucifer has found some way to extend his consciousness from within the cage to visit him here, in his dreams.

"What do you think? The Cage holds, but the family reunion could've gone a little better. Michael doesn't even talk to me anymore; you know how he sulks."

After a few decades of fighting, Michael had retreated to one end of their prison to be self-righteous and ignore Lucifer all by himself. To sulk, perhaps, about dear old Dad letting him get stuck down there, trapped in the same punishment as the rebellious son. Or it could have been to get back at him, due to the utter futility of their grudge-match; it ultimately didn't matter.

He shrugs, a slow and lazy roll of his shoulders.

"But at least I had Sam to keep me company."

Idle hands, after all, are the devil's workshop.

"Sam Winchester?" He makes a face, incredulous. Back when the apocalypse was averted, Gabriel had really only kept enough tabs to know that everything was running smoothly. Anything about Sam going to hell is news to him. "He was here, not too long ago. Well. Not here here." He came into the city like Gabriel had, but one day his soul has simply vanished from his senses.

He takes a sip from his glass, refills it, then gestures with the bottle, offering the rest to Lucifer. He doesn't really like where this is going. He can see Lucifer leading him, but he's not sure to what. "If you're going to prod at me, at least sit down and have a drink. You're rocking the boat, as usual."

"And you're out of the loop. I'm surprised with you, brother. Didn't you keep track of those little hairless apes you sided with?"

But, graciously, he obliges Gabriel; folds himself up so he can sit on the edge of the prow and accepts the offered bottle. He snaps himself up another glass and smoothly pours a measure of liquid into it.

"Michael and I didn't just jump into the Cage because the Winchesters asked us nicely. Sam said yes to me, Gabriel. And when I fell in, he came with me."

"Out of the loop is required when you're faking your death." He tips his head, shooting Lucifer a tired glare. It's important that he show Lucifer that he hasn't forgotten about what happened the last time that they met.

What Lucifer had to say makes sense, and he's curious how Sam managed to escape the cage, but there's something more pressing to ask. "How's Michael?"

How could either of them forget? Fighting Michael and possibly killing him is tragic inevitability; the only way to end the feud, as there could be no reconciliation. But Gabriel? That had never been part of the plan. What else could he have done, though? Gabriel forced his hand when he took up his blade against him and refused to back down, all for the sake of a planet full of cockroaches.

"You learned a thing or two while you were slumming with the filthy pagans," he replies, tilting his head in a similar manner, a half-mocking mimicry. "I'd say I was impressed, but you'd given me that lovely speech about being in the game and the lie just seems so tasteless in hindsight."

Stepping out onto the court for five minutes and then sitting out on the bleachers for the rest isn't really quite getting in the game.

He huffs when Michael is dragged back into the conversation. "He's alive and angry. Past that, I don't know, we haven't exactly had the chance to sit down for a nice heart-to-heart."

[a million years later...sorry]

It's a relief to know that even if Michael is sulking, he's still alive. He presses his lips together, keeping quiet by force as Lucifer once again insults his pagan family.

He could explain to Lucifer that he has the wrong idea entirely about the reasons behind his stand back at the hotel. He had a plan that created enough of a distraction to get Kali out of there alive. That was the most important thing. Even now, he couldn't kill Lucifer. That was too much to ask. But distract him long enough to manage the situation? That, he is clever enough to do.

He could explain all of that, but he doesn't want Lucifer's opinion on it. Instead, he asks, "So. A interdimensional portal with a bitchy personality opened up and pulled me into and alternate-universe Manhattan. Got any ideas about why that might happen?"

Risking death for some small god tramp hardly seems like much of a smart plan from where Lucifer is sitting; sure, Gabriel managed to escape death, but he blew a millennia's worth of witness protection going toe-to-toe with one of the few beings who could actually destroy him. For a girl. Gabriel, you romantic, you.

And, really, calling them filthy is Lucifer being considerate; he could say so much worse, if he cared to. They're much like humans with all their pettiness, but have the audacity to presume to call themselves gods. Little brother could do so much better.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you pissed off someone with a well-stocked pantry and extensive working knowledge of spells. I can understand if it might be difficult to narrow down the list, though."

"If it was as simple as a witch with a grudge, I think I'd be able to get back So. Yeah. Stuck in an alternate universe. That's a thing that happened.

"Who said anything about a witch? It could be one of your little pagan gods. They are notoriously petty and I'd imagine you're not really winning any popularity contests with them these days."

Doubly so if any of them have gotten the memo that Loki and Gabriel are one and the same.

"Though I suppose I'd still expect you to be able to get back, even if that was the case," he tuts softly, his expression shifting into one of gentle, slightly mocking reproach. "Maybe you're just losing your touch."

Yuri's first thought was to look around for other people, but everyone is quite far away. He sits rigidly on the seat of his rowboat, eying the oars and telling himself it's no big deal, people row boats around all the time. Every time he moves, though, the whole thing rocks alarmingly. It moves under him again and he catches himself letting out a sound that can only be described as a growl.

Not helping, he tells himself, clenching his jaw a moment before consciously trying to relax. Maybe he shouldn't go find other people right now. There's a reason he shuts himself up in his room most of the time this close to the full moon. Alright, he decides, he'll just stay where he is, away from the others.

Too bad he's already got an angel coming up on him in a far nicer boat.

Gabriel glides up in his boat and, when he notices that it's Yuri he's about to pass by, stops and waves hello. The record player at the end of his boat is still playing soft guitar music.

"How's it hangin, Yuri?"

"Oh, it's great," says Yuri, gripping the sides of his boat. He has to remind himself that all Gabriel's done is stop to say hello and try again, this time trying harder not to sound sarcastic. "This is a new one, huh?"

He takes in Yuri's very obvious tension, and raises an eyebrow at him. "Don't like boats?"

"Not really my thing," Yuri admits. Maybe he can pass it off like he just has a problem with boats and water. That'd be good. "I didn't exactly grow up near an ocean."

"Want to join me over here?" Gabriel offers, "It's not nearly as unstable. And there's mood music."

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And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

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I hope this is okay?

Yesssss

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