applesaucedream

Tonight each dreamer of Manhattan will find out they're half the person they used to be.

No, really. Or at least, they're half the human[oid] they used to be. One way or another, each dreamer has been transformed into a hybrid creature from mythology. Fortunately, they find themselves at stunning fjord where those of the more aquatic persuasion can relax in the calm waters (unless, of course, the rift decides to beach them for fun) while others remain on dry ground (then again, who says a centaur can't swim?). There are trees in which bird-people can roost and warm rocks on which the cold-blooded can sun themselves, and the water of the fjord is cool, clear, and inviting. There's nothing man-made to be seen, no hint of civilization other than the dreamers themselves…and in this state, are they really so civilized?

[OOC: The usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters welcome, regardless of whether or not the character (or any character of yours) is in the game. Despite the wording, characters who did not start out looking human are welcome. Characters may remember or forget everything that happens in the Dreaming at players' discretion.]

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"About half a year, now," she confirms, her smile slipping. She ruffles her feathers, part of her wondering how she's meant to preen them when she doesn't have a proper beak and can't seem to make herself one, then lets them lie smoothly once more. Talking about how long she's been here is a short street to unhappiness, so she focuses on the dreams, instead.

"This one isn't so bad," she continues, the lightness in her tone just a bit forced. "There was one that turned folk into monsters." At least she's not a spidren here, and her claws aren't the silver of an immortal. Even if this was the waking world, she'd interpret this as temporary rift mischief and not a permanent new shape.

"Yeah, I heard about that one," he answers with a nod. "Thankfully I didn't get dragged into it. This is weird enough, honestly. And the last one wasn't all that great either." He hadn't explored all that much, hadn't gotten the worst of it (though he saw what it did to Johnny), but he'd heard a few horror stories afterwards. And also a few stories that were perfectly pleasant.

"No, it really wasn't," Daine agrees, wrinkling her nose. That dragon she met had been all right, but her encounter with Gabe hadn't been all that pleasant (not that that is any great surprise).

Of course, there's nothing to stop this dream from going sour, but it doesn't feel as if it would. Either way, she intends to enjoy this pleasant bit for as long as it lasts.

She looks down at Seth, head canted a little to one side. It's a little hard to keep remembering that she's not all bird, and she can't always help an avian gesture or two. "Have you looked around much, yet? It's fair pretty out by the water."

Or at least, the dream doesn't seem like it would go sour on its own. But you never know who you'll meet around.

"Just a little," he answers with a shrug. He's not particularly interested in exploring right though, now he's found someone to talk to. "Half a year, that's quite a while. What've you been doing? Are you with either of those factions?" He really wants to know this early on. And he intentionally phrases it to distance himself from both. People are often more willing to answer if they think they can maybe recruit you.

Daine considers his question for a few moments. It doesn't sound as if he's with either group, but he doesn't exactly sound like a lost newcomer, either. Which means he's either being cagey a-purpose, or he's decided he doesn't want to be with either group.

"The rebels found me first," she says with another shrug of her wings. Then, before he comment on that, she continues, "I mostly look after the animals - the ones in the park and such. It's closest to what I used to do back home."

There's definitely a slight flicker of distaste across his face when she says the rebels. Still. She's not all that involved. (He would probably know if she was. He does make an effort to keep tabs.)

"Make sure you keep an eye on the rebels themselves, too," he warns vaguely.

Here we go again. Daine huffs out a sigh, more frustrated than dismissive. This isn't the first time she's been given a vague warning about the rebels, but there's not a gods-blessed thing she can do with a vague warning, so why do folk even bother?

"No one needs to tell me that two-leggers can be trouble," she says tersely, and the look she gives Seth suggests that he goes in that category, too. How much trust is she supposed to have in the word of someone she's only just met?

Seth smiles a bit at that (he did always like girls who talked back), and nods. No vague warnings necessary, then. She'll probably be alright, if she's already skeptical of them. And he isn't the slightest bit offended by not being trusted.

"Two-leggers?" he asks, latching onto that particular phrasing. "You prefer the company of animals, then?" Well, if that's what she works with, it doesn't seem too unlikely.

"Mostly." There are exceptions - really, there are plenty of humans she's fond of - but it's hard to deny that things are easier with animals. "Animals tend to be more sensible than humans."

"Can't argue with that," he agrees. He's known a lot of people lacking sense. He still does, really, but in a slightly different way. "Had an iguana back home. Much easier to deal with than most of my friends."

Daine's expression softens a little. She knows all too well that some folk can be wonderful to animals and horrible to humans, so Seth doesn't get an automatic seal of approval just for having a pet. But iguana is an interesting choice; the only other person she knows with an iguana for a pet is Lindhall, and she has fond memories of him, at least. "What was its name?" she asks curiously.

It probably says a lot about his friends that the iguana was easier, since they're not the simplest pet to have. But animals generally have pretty straight-forward agendas, they're not as emotionally complicated.

"Iggy. Yeah, yeah, I know, very original," he answers with a smile, before she can point it out. "But he, uh, he died a while before he came here." (Let's not get into how that happened.) "Haven't had a pet since then, for various reasons." (Like being locked up for three months.) "Been wondering if I should change that, though."

Daine sidesteps along her perch. "I'm sorry." Losing a friend is never easy, even when you can't talk to them. And it's clear enough from Seth's expression and tone that Iggy didn't die from ill care. He sounds sad, but not guilty.

When he mentions getting a new pet, though, she brightens. "Really?" There are so many animals on the island who need good homes, she can't help but be intrigued when someone seems to be offering one. "What kind were you thinking?"

Seth shrugs. The movement makes some of the plants around his neck tickle, which is such an strange sensation he's momentarily distracted.

"I like reptiles," he answers. "Maybe a snake or something." Iggy had been cool, but not always the easiest to deal with. Especially when he decided to get to a higher vantage point while Seth was holding him, and tried to climb onto his head while using Seth's ears for footholds for his claws.

Halfway

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