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The Big Applesauce Moderators ([personal profile] applesaucemod) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2014-07-05 01:52 pm

The Shavings Off Your Mind are the Only Rent [Open to All]

 photo JulyDreamPartyImage01_zps8d9e51ff.jpg


Picture a house. Actually, picture two houses. They're (almost) identical structures that share an uneasy coexistence, tangled together on a quantum level. One of the houses is Good: bright, cheerful, full of comfortable furniture and a pervasive feeling of safety. The other house is Evil: dingy, dilapidated, and haunted by the dreamers' greatest fears.

The good news - and bad news - is that travel from one house to the other is as simple as passing through a door. All a dreamer has to do is walk through a doorway, any doorway, and they'll find themselves in whichever house they weren't in before they crossed the threshold. Perhaps they'll step out of a beautiful library and find themselves in a threatening hallway - or perhaps they'll flee a menacing kitchen and find themselves in a perfectly safe dining room. That is the nature of the houses' entanglement: every door is a portal between the two.

There are, of course, complications. Dreamers in one house can't perceive the other; if you're in the Good house and looking through a doorway, the space beyond will look as nice and inviting as the space you're in now (until you step through that doorway, of course). Dreamers also can't really perceive one another if they're in the same room, but in different houses, though they might see a flash of movement out of the corner of their eye, or think they heard something.

Perhaps the greatest complications are the houses themselves. They have rather strong personalities, and they aren't very fond of one another. Each house will want to keep you if it can (keep you safe, in the case of the Good house, or keep you for itself, in the case of the Evil one). Dreamers may attempt to cross a hall and find the door that looked open and inviting a moment ago is now barred shut, leaving them trapped in the hall - or have doors suddenly close in their faces before they can end up anywhere unpleasant. Still, there's only so much either house can do, and even a locked door can be jimmied open or busted down.

Escape from the houses is possible, but the formal gardens beyond are similarly entangled, with neatly trimmed lawns and expertly plotted flower beds becoming overgrown tangles of nettles and algae-choked reflecting pools. An archway is as good as a door, as far as the gardens are concerned, and there are plenty of arbors and arches over the paths. Of course, dreamers may find that a sound arbor in the Good garden has collapsed in the Evil one… and heaven help anyone who dares to explore the hedge maze.





[ooc: y'all know the drill. ALL characters are welcome, regardless of whether they're in the game. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion.

Also, this dream party marks the aforementioned calendar freeze. For the next three weeks, the IG date will sit on July 3rd. Posts dated July 3rd or earlier are allowed and encouraged. The calendar will resume forward motion at a 4:1 ratio on Saturday, July 26th.]
bibliophale: (goodness gracious | what??)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2014-07-10 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
O-oh. Oh dear. Aziraphale looks a bit pained at her reaction, frozen for a moment, not sure what to do. Did he say the wrong thing again? No - no, this is a good thing. Sort of. He's touched her. That's all.

Poor dear, he wants to say, but manages not to. Instead he steps out of his chair a bit awkwardly and kneels before her, picking up her hands again. He gives them a gentle squeeze and peers up at her, undaunted by her quiet sobs and her crumpled face.

"There, there," he murmurs. "It's all right." Is this a good place for a hug? He's just not sure. He sort of shifts back a bit, making room if she, say, wanted to sink down into his arms. He doesn't make a habit of being so overtly affectionate (handholding doesn't entirely count, in his book), but... this is rather a special case, isn't it?

"You're all right," he reiterates, just a little firmer.

He resists the twinging part of him that says look at what a good job you're doing. This is about her.
Edited 2014-07-10 18:56 (UTC)
rae_of_sun: (downcast)

[personal profile] rae_of_sun 2014-07-10 07:16 pm (UTC)(link)
She pulls in a shuddering breath as he takes her hands again, wanting to thank him, wanting to just apologize, profusely, forever, and crying too hard for either option. When he shifts back a little, in… invitation?… part of her thinks: you can't hug an angel. It wouldn't be shadow-reading rude, but she already feels so… small, and ridiculous, like such a pathetic imposition.

But if she hugs him, she won't have to watch him looking at her so kindly.

Is hugging an angel really that much stranger than befriending a vampire?

She slides off the armchair with an abrupt little thump and buries her face in his shoulder, probably getting tears all over his argyle-patterned cardigan. He doesn't feel Other to her. She doesn't blaze away into nothingness at his touch. He just feels normal, and she leans against the reassuring warm solidity of him and weeps.

Well, she was already a wreck, anyway. Maybe he won't hold it against her.
bibliophale: (demure | thoughtful | heh)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2014-07-10 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
There we go. Now that it's happening, it's not so awkward - it's rather nice, actually. Aziraphale wraps his arms around her and holds her close, even improvising and petting her hair a bit. It feels sort of... profound, actually, lavishing this much attention and comfort upon a single soul. Things had gotten so impersonal and crowdsourced back home. He'd almost forgotten the intensity of singular focus. How mutual it is. This - this is old. This is nice.

He lets a little of his warmth and grace spill over into her, hoping it feels comforting and reassuring, like a nice warm blanket pulled up over the soul.

"We'll wake up soon enough," he promises. "And then things will seem better."

He's not even working at it anymore. In fact, he's not aware of his own kindness at all. For a nice little moment, it just comes naturally, just because it's what he is.
rae_of_sun: (neutral - listening)

[personal profile] rae_of_sun 2014-07-10 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Okay. This is better. This is a comfort. She still feels small and a bit ridiculous - it's impossible not to, considering the company she's in - but there is nothing condescending about the way he puts his arms around her. It feels like… healing, like the restorative touch of the sun, and she finds herself suddenly remembering Yolande spreading a web of woven sunlight between her hands and casting it over her like a net. After a few minutes, she's able to pull back a little, enough to sheepishly swipe her hands across her cheeks.

"Thank you." She looks down at her lap, embarrassed by her… instability, excusable as it may be. "That sounds so… feeble… but thank you."

Gods. She leans back against the armchair and sighs, then drags her gaze back up to Aziraphale's face. Struck by sudden inspiration, she asks, "Do you like cinnamon rolls?"
bibliophale: (demure | thoughtful | heh)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2014-07-10 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
He smiles at her soft, worried-sounding apology. "Not at all," he says gently. He pulls back as well but doesn't withdraw entirely, resting his hands loosely at her elbows.

Her next question comes as a surprise, but not at all an unpleasant one. He brightens instantly. "I do!" he declares, and then looks a bit sheepish. "I've been known to have a bit of a sweet tooth. Whyever do you ask?"
rae_of_sun: (awkward)

[personal profile] rae_of_sun 2014-07-10 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
And just like that, Aziraphale goes from overwhelming Other to potential customer. Sunshine sits up a bit straighter, trying not to appear overeager. "I work in a bake shop. One of my specialties is Cinnamon Rolls As Big As Your Head, though I can make a lot of other stuff, too. Um. Considering…" she gestures vaguely towards the door they came through, "I thought, if you wanted some free samples…"

So much for not appearing overeager. But she likes feeding people, and it really is the least she can do.
bibliophale: (prissy as hell | fashionista)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2014-07-11 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Aziraphale's eyes widen visibly as Sunshine goes on, until he looks like a round-eyed child staring down a cadre of golden retriever puppies.

"Yes," he says, clutching her hands tightly, this time in excitement instead of comfort, then he quickly lets them go in mild embarrassment. "Er, yes. I'd love to see your bakery. And eat your baked goods." He grins, getting to his feet and helping her up, back into her armchair. "Where is it? I'll come visit you as soon as we're awake."
rae_of_sun: (hopeful)

[personal profile] rae_of_sun 2014-07-11 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
His obvious excitement is encouraging, and Sunshine feels a good deal better as she settles back onto her armchair. "It's on First and 87th," she says. "Glaser's. Um. I'm usually in the back, but just ask for me."

So now there's an angel on her roster of new clientele. At least he won't stick out quite as noticeably as Croach does.
bibliophale: (demure | thoughtful | heh)

[personal profile] bibliophale 2014-07-12 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Fantastic," he says, beaming at her as he sits back down. "In the meantime, the tea's still hot, if you'd like some more." He leans over, offering her cup back, slipping a biscuit onto the saucer. She may not notice him vanishing the Wicked Bible; for once, or maybe just for the first time in a very long time, Aziraphale has found he prefers his company to his book.