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

[captain_mal]

And he's right back to talking on about simulations and them being nothing but a dream, whatever that's suppose to mean. Well good to see that bout of sanity didn't go lasting too long. Might have been able to hold an actual full conversation without swearing more than breathing or babbling on about aliens and the likes. Now, where's the fun in something as sensible as all that?

Mal is all prepared to just roll his eyes and start ignoring the fellow when something he says actually kind of sticks. Mal vaguely remembers trying to get a hold on the earlier but no matter how much he wants to recall the whole scene he can't quite manage to get it pinned down precisely. Knows that at some point Serenity must have landed... Nearby, though couldn't have been anywhere in the woods itself unless there is a nice big clearing in the middle of all this mess of trees that Mal's just failing to see. Thinks he knows how long he's been walking though, that much is.... Maybe not as clear as he figured. But seems to have been a while now. Can tell you exactly when he found the stallion, for instance.

Can't he?

Mal shares a glance with the horse, frowning some because what the hell is he expecting, the horse to answer his question he didn't even go and ask out loud? Never mind that, what he's trying to figure is how long he's been traveling with this old bronco now. Feels like they know each other so well it must have been... Well it must have been just about all day by this point, surely.

It's hard to tell not being able to see the sky and all. That's pretty much how Mal is able to tell where in the 'verse he is and what time of day and anything much having to do with time and navigating, so being trapped up under this canopy ain't doing his attempts at finding his way out any favors and giving him plenty of trouble when it comes to something as simple as keeping time, that's the problem right there.

Still cant seem to recall much of how he got here or why it is Serenity would even come to this world, a world he don't remember a gorramn thing about at the moment. Must have had a job, why else even both coming to this sort of planet? And Mal must have had to go make the deal alone, though seems like not even he would be so goddamn foolish as to truly go off without Zoe watching his back. Either way, must be that thing went south. He got separated off from the rest of the crew and was chased or dragged here and.... why don't he actually remember any of this? Had things really gone that wrong?

Easier to believe that than the idea that this is just some alien-believing stranger's simulation, that's for sure. The details are fuzzy but wouldn't be the first time Mal's woken up from a bad job to find that's happened. Actually kind of disquieting thinking of how common that is in Mal's line of work.

Those thoughts are just unwelcomed enough that Mal's almost welcomes having the man speaking up again despite so far having found most of what he had to say either total absurdity or annoying or both. This falls somewhere between the two, more like mildly nonsensical and a bit bothersome at most. "He," Mal corrects almost automatically, though he shouldn't really care what the man calls his horse which isn't his at all, just another reason not to care so much, 'specially from a guy who thinks he was abducted by aliens. "Can't tell a stallion from a mare? It's a he, and he ain't mine. I just found him," Mal explains not that its anything so important like, say, trying to get back to Serenity, figure out where the gorramn hell he is, or even if he could just tell if this fellow is the same product of the testing River had been through. Does seem kind of weird he could so easily go and figure out about Mal's wandering having lost him all sense of time and positioning, he described it so easy could be that he's a reader and don't even know it, but then he really don't come off as the same type as River at all, outside of both of'em being shén jīng bìng.

"He must have gotten lost, same as me," Mal points out, staring over at the horse like he's actually expecting him to reveal some deep, dark secret to him, but at the moment the horse is too busy trying to graze to bother with Mal's weird looks. "Never met him before in my life, certainly ain't got no plans on keeping him but figure he must have come from a ranch or a farm, somewhere nearby. Hoping he might be inclined to go back but, well..." Now the horse actually looks up, but only to give something of a snort and shake out his mane, not exactly the best response one could hope for."

[lottawork]

"Right," says Rush, in the flat, crisp sort of diction that implies he doesn't believe him at all, inclining his head at the big black cat who has now returned to washing herself with misleading indolence. It's apparent that she's just as alert as he, the entirety of these woods sending foreign and unwelcome prickles of anxiety jangling in his hands and spine and at the base of his skull, but he knows he expressed far too much vulnerability upon their first exchange and needs to reestablish his composure. "Just like how the panther isn't mine."

He levels a small, knowing half-smile at the man, enjoying the small tilt of dominance that comes from knowing more than he does at the present moment. Simulations are nothing new. Even if this one is - different than what Destiny would ordinarily throw at his mind. And Rush doesn't appreciate the other party being armed in this scenario, but if Destiny is eager to test his response to worst-case scenarios, well. He's certain this one would qualify.