Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The woods are dark and deep, but not particularly lovely. If anything, they feel dangerous, as if something terrible might come lurching out from behind any given tree and tear into the nearest warm body. What that terrible thing might be is anyone's guess. A cat with hands? Slenderman? Stegosaurus? Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf? All of the above in a horrible mob? It's anyone's guess. But every dreamer will be absolutely convinced that there is something unspeakable out there, and that it's after them.

The dreamers have two things on their side. The first is that there is actually nothing dangerous lurking in these woods (with the possible exception of other dreamers). The pervasive terror the dreamers are feeling is just that: a rift-given feeling, nothing more and nothing less. That snapping twig or rustle in the undergrowth is almost certainly just a squirrel or something else equally harmless.

The second is that no dreamer is alone. They all will be reunited with - or introduced to - their dæmons, a source of comfort in this dark, intimidating wilderness. However frightened the dreamers might be, at least they have someone with them who definitely doesn't want them dead.

[OOC: as ever, any and all are welcome! You don't have to be in the game to join the fun. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. And the party only stops when you want it to; feel free to backtag forever.]

Comments

[imashinyboy]

'Oh, yeah!' Vince laughs. 'Forgot about that that; 's tomorrow, innit?' He's not sure how he forgot; Hallowe'en is one of his favourite holidays. Not like Vince needs the excuse to dress up, but he enjoys it anyway.

'Thanks.' He's pretty sure she's offering the fresh sugar skulls-- conjured up out of nowhere too, dead impressive-- so he takes them, tucking one into the pocket of his jacket and holding the other one in the hollow of his palm. Slightly flutters down to alight on it, giving it another little lick. They cock their head up at La Muerte.

'Like, you're Death, you mean? We've met Death before.'

'Well,' Vince amends, 'Not like, Death Death, proper like, but a Death? I dunno, there were loads of 'em, all Grim Reapers, right? In cloaks and sickles and the lot. But you're more impressive than that lot by miles.' He gives a cheeky little grin that's half genuine and half for the sake of flirtation. It's true, at any rate; that Cockney lot shambling about in their cabs and that, they've got nothing on this lady.

[lo_recordado]

"Yes, and then the Day of the Dead comes afterward," La Muerte says, smiling gently. The most important holiday of them all, when families come together to remember their loved ones and keep their spirits happy and vibrant in her realm, rather than drifting into the Land of the Forgotten.

"I do rule over the dead, but I am not one of your Reapers," she explains. Laughing, La Muerte shakes her head and plucks one of her candles from her hat. Quetzal moves forward, occupying the space.

"This candle represents a light. When it's time, it will extinguish and its spirit will come to my home. The Land of the Remembered. There, it's a fiesta every day, with joy for everyone. And all you can eat churros."

[imashinyboy]

Vince leans in a little over the candle, like there might be something hidden in the shuddering little flame that he's missing, but there's nothing there that he sees that he wouldn't see in any ordinary candle. At her description of the Land of the Remembered, Vince grins, and Slightly makes a little fizzing noise way back in their throat, an avian expression of pleasure.

'Aw, that sounds brilliant. Parties all the time, yeah? Ace.'

'And churros are amazing,' chimes in Slightly. Vince grins, lifting his hand to give them a little scratch on the crown of their head.

'Right on. Oh!' He looks up again at La Muerte with a little nod. 'I'm Vince, by the way. Vince Noir, Rock and Roll star, dunno if you've heard of me. What're you doin' here, then? If you don't normally do the whole, you know, descending to walk among mortals thing.'

[lo_recordado]

La Muerte laughs at the hummingbird's assessment, nodding her agreement. Curious, Quetzal leaps down to her wrist to get a better look at them.

"It is good to meet you, Vince," she says kindly, though she can't say she's heard of him. Or of Rock and Roll for that matter, but time is relative and she's certain she will encounter such mortal achievements soon enough.

"And to be quite honest, I'm not sure. I can visit the mortal plane easily enough, specially on the days approaching and just after Dia de los Muertos. I meant to be in Mexico, but I seem to have found myself in a very different place."