Enchantment Under the Sea

[applesaucemod]

Tonight, the dreamers of Manhattan will find themselves transported to what is unmistakably a high school gymnasium. Granted, it's lavishly decorated in blues, greens, and violets. There are jellyfish made of tissue paper and streamers, painted cardboard fish are dangling from ceiling, and an abundance of transparent balloons serve as substitute bubbles. Tables and chairs are clustered around the periphery for those who'd like to sit, but the majority of the floor is open for dancing. Along one wall, folding tables hold snacks and bowls of punch. There's no DJ to be seen, but a sound system is playing a steady stream of classic dance songs.

It's impressive work for a nonexistent prom committee, all things considered.

But the setting is not the only thing that hearkens back to one's teenage years. The dreamers will find, regardless of age or species, that they're now saddled with the hormones of an average sixteen-year-old human being… and with the delightful mood fluctuations and bouts of irrationality that come with the package. (Dreamers who are already teenagers might be said to be getting a reprieve… but dealing with adults in such a state will be trying enough on its own. Someone has to chaperone, right?)

The good news for dreamers who aren't into dances is that there's an entire high school to explore, though the hallways will only be half-lit and many of the classrooms will be locked up. Even the parking lot and athletic fields are accessible, but dreamers may find themselves getting mysteriously turned around if they try to actually leave school property.


[ooc: you all know the drill. Any and all characters are welcome, regardless of whether or not they're in the game. Dreamers may remember or forget the events of the party at the player's discretion.]

Comments

[erratic_hematic]

He nods to her request. Normally he might tell her not to bother, but given that this is a dream, he doesn't see an harm in it. Also it's probably going to involve her touching his face again, which he's totally on board for.

[rae_of_sun]

Good guess, Spike. Sunshine gently presses her palm against his unbloodied cheek, letting her affinity do its work. The injuries aren't very severe, so it doesn't take much. And despite her exasperation, she does make an effort to rein her affinity in enough that it won't be unpleasant. (Honestly, if she'd guessed there'd be later occasions in which she'd want to patch him up, she would have made a similar effort the first time.)

"I suppose you'll need help wiping the blood off, too," she says, her tone disapproving even as she absently strokes his cheek with the pad of her thumb before dropping her hand. "It's not like you can check your reflection to see if you got it all."

[erratic_hematic]

"I usually just keep washing until the water goes clear," he says, not really taking into consideration that he's suggesting that he gets into fights so often that he has a system in place for dealing with the blood.

He points down the hall a ways, where there seems to be a restroom. "There. I wouldn't mind the help, though."

[rae_of_sun]

Usually. So this is a habit for him, is it? She's far more familiar with the kind of bad boy who's had time to straighten out and dispense with active brawling, and she can't say she relishes the idea of being on constant standby for cleanup duty. There are other things she could be doing with her time.

But at the moment (and, she realizes with no small amount of self-directed disgust, this will probably apply to future moments, too), she'd rather get him cleaned up than waste time resenting the state he's in. Her "all right" still sounds a bit put-upon (willingness aside, she doesn't want him to think she enjoys doing this) as she leads the way to the restroom.

It's the men's, as it turns out, but when she nudges open the door it triggers the overhead light, so she assumes they're not interrupting anyone. This far from the gym, it's quiet enough inside that she assumes she'd hear any occupants, too, but it appears that they have the restroom to themselves.

"So," she asks as she starts to dampen a paper towel, "who was it?"