applesaucemod: (Default)
The Big Applesauce Moderators ([personal profile] applesaucemod) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2014-10-30 06:02 pm

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

 photo spookydream_zps6b871cec.jpeg


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.]
oldasmountains: (like sun on a deep pool)

[personal profile] oldasmountains 2014-11-01 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
'Hmmmm, yes, I know Men,' Fangorn answers, after what will, perhaps, to Teddy, seem a very long pause indeed. 'Though they are rarely so... bold as you.'

He peers down, fixing the man with a gaze, sharper than his eyes, like sunlit pools, would seem capable of. He does not know what to make of the object the man holds tucked at his side, though he holds it as Fangorn has seen generations of the Sons and Daughters of Eru hold weapons. Still, there is no blade that he can see, nor any fire, and those are the only weapons of Men he need fear.

'I am an Ent,' he intones, toes flexing into the dirt. 'There are tales, I hear, told still of us in the cities of Men, but it has been long years since I ranged as I used.'

'What,' comes the voice of the sloth from over his shoulder, the deepest alto like a great woodwind, 'is that?'

They have seen elk and deer, but the creature this man rides upon is neither of those.