Can't Stand the Distance, Can't Dream Alone [open to all]

[applesaucemod]

The sleeping rifties might have a difficult time realizing they're dreaming this evening, in part because tonight's dreams are atypically vivid, even compared to the rift's usual efforts. Perhaps that is because it's drawing so heavily from the memories of the dreamers, themselves, and using that information to recreate their home worlds in stunning detail. And that is the real reason the dreamers might not be eager to accept the unreality of the situation: the situation is one that many of them have been hoping for for months or even years. In their dreams tonight, the rifties are going home.

Perhaps they arrive in the same moment that they left. Perhaps months have passed at home, or they might even find themselves arriving before their departure point. But those are small details when compared to the overwhelming realization that they're back where they belong.

They're not alone. Many dreamers will find the rift has given them a companion for the return trip. Well, an uncomplicated return home is probably more than anyone could have hoped for, anyway. And for the unwitting visitor, perhaps another universal displacement will be easier to bear with the addition of a local guide.

[ooc: usual dream party rules apply; all are welcome, and dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Also at the players' discretion: when their character arrives in their 'home universe,' and how many (if any) locals they'd want to run into.]

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

"It all seems short compared to Manhattan," she admits in an undertone as she leads Peeta up a flight of winding stairs. Then again, given the lack of elevators, that's just as well.

She falls silent as they approach Numair's room, her heart thudding in her chest. A not-so-small part of her is still angry with him for never finding her, even though that's such plain nonsense now that she's back. Nobody looked for her because nobody had time to even realize she was gone. She can hardly hold that against him. But there's no getting around the fact that she hasn't seen him in the better part of a year, and all frustrations aside, she's spent most of that time missing him desperately. This is any other day for him. What will seeing him again be like for her?

She probably would have hesitated outside the door, but Kitten - who she'd set down once they were back indoors - doesn't see any reason to. The dragon cheerfully whistles open the lock on Numair's door and shoves it open, trundling inside. Numair's at his desk poring over a scroll, but he turns toward the door when Kitten walks in and favors the dragon with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm sure I've explained knocking to you," he says without malice - Kitten chortles at him - before looking up at Daine. For her part, the girl can't even breathe, let alone speak. Her expression must be telling, though, because Numair's on his feet a moment later, dark eyes flicking briefly over her shoulder before settling back on her. "Magelet? Is something wrong? Wh--oof," he concludes abruptly as Daine surges forward and throws her arms around him. She actually succeeds in knocking the taller man back a pace, but he recovers himself quickly enough and returns the gesture automatically.

She's crying again, and she knows he must be fair confused, but she can't stop herself. He's real. She's home, and she buries her face against the familiar warmth of her best friend and sobs.

Numair gives her back a gentle, somewhat awkward pat, as if he's not entirely sure what to do with himself. And since Daine is currently unfit for conversation (for some reason, which he can't currently fathom but it must be a good one), he shifts his focus back to the strange young man accompanying her. His gaze is sharp and not a little suspicious; here's a possible explanation for his student's unusual behavior. Not that she's ever come crying to him over a boy before - thank all the listening gods - but he has to start somewhere. "I don't suppose this is anything to do with you," he says, frowning in preemptive disapproval.

[peeta_mellark]

"That's true," Peeta agrees. If anything, the architecture reminds him mostly of District 12, though he isn't about to say as much. Like the Capitol and Manhattan, Tortall is just different enough from the District to make the similarities stand out.

He senses Daine's hesitation before they even reach the door. The combination of nerves and anticipation she is giving off is overwhelming. Thanks to Kitten, however, neither of them have much time to prepare before the door is opened (Peeta gives Kitten an assessing look when he hears the door unlock and finds no one behind it). He hangs back a little - not enough to look like he's trying to avoid the room and the person in it, but enough to give Daine her space.

From where he is in the hallway, he has a clear view into the room. As such, he can see the shift in Numair's expression when he catches sight of Daine's face. Peeta can't see it, but he guess what she looks like, a guess that is borne out in the way she all but launches herself at Numair. Peeta doesn't miss the look Numair throws his way, either, and is therefore prepared for the question that follows it.

"No, not me," he replies, giving the man a gentle smile. "It has to do with you."

[wildmage_daine]

Numair's frown makes a slight shift into confused territory. He's been accused of obtuseness before, usually when he's absorbed in study, but he's reasonably certain he hasn't done anything to warrant this kind of reaction. Daine hasn't behaved this way since Carthak, when she thought he'd been executed. She can't possibly have gotten it into her head that he'd died again.

Kitten grips onto Daine's breeches and lets out a concerned run of burbly notes, and Numair digs a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here," he offers, and Daine pulls back enough to take the scrap of cloth and obey his rather paternal, "blow." He keeps an arm curled around her, a little concerned by the way she's slumped against him, and uses his free hand to check his pocket for a vial of wakeflower, just in case.

"I'm sorry," Daine apologizes to the room at large, mopping the tears off her face. She hasn't missed the way he checked his pocket, and just the thought of him shoving that vial under her nose is enough incentive for her to pull herself together a little. "Numair, Kit, I've - we've been through something, me and Peeta, and it's going to sound mad, but I swear by the Goddess it's all true."

Numair gives her shoulder a little rub, then looks down his long nose at Peeta. "Well, I suppose you'd better come in and sit down," he says, not sounding especially enthusiastic about the idea. But if this 'Peeta' fellow plays a role in this ordeal that has Daine beside herself, he supposes it's better to keep the boy within easy reach.

[peeta_mellark]

There is sympathy in Peeta's eyes as he watches Daine, even as his gaze goes slightly distant. Seeing her reaction - and Numair's reaction to her state - he can't help but wonder what it would be like if the situation were reversed and Daine had been pulled into Panem with him.

Considering where he was when the rift pulled him away, it doesn't bear imagining (he isn't thinking about the dream arena where Daine died, he isn't). But if the rift somehow put them in the district, maybe before the Games even happened, how would everyone have reacted to their story? Within the space of a breath the possible reactions of his friends and family flash across his mind, each face and demeanor as clear as if the person were standing in front of him.

He quickly returns to the present, offering a supportive nod to Daine's assertion that their story is true. Unlike Panem, Tortall has magic. At least in Daine's world, traveling between realms isn't entirely unheard of, and Peeta suspects that will help lend credence to her claims.

He hopes it can do the same for the part he plays in the story. Numair's clear uncertainty about him is almost amusing; Peeta can all but feel the protectiveness radiating from the man as he steers Daine toward a chair.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine plops down into the offered chair, and Kitten clambers up into her lap. Odd's bobs, this is going to take some telling. She's distracted from the enormity of the tale she'll have to relate by the look that Numair gives Peeta as the latter settles himself in a chair, and her eyes narrow a little in preemptive annoyance. It was bad enough when Numair got all mother-bear over Kaddar having the audacity to speak with her; she won't have him huffing at Peeta, too. She casts a surreptitious glance beneath the table once Numair's seated himself, making note of where his shins are in case she needs to aim a kick in his direction.

"Well," Daine begins, absently running a hand down Kitten's side, "I suppose the first thing you ought to know is that there are a lot more realms than just the three. Peeta's from a different realm, and the one we both landed in was new for both of us. The city we lived in was called New York, and it was home to lots of displaced people from more realms than anyone could count." She glances toward Peeta, in case he cares to elaborate - or at least back her up, lest Numair decide she's just gone mad.

[peeta_mellark]

Peeta gives Daine an encouraging smile as she begins her explanation, nodding in support as she talks. "There were people from all sorts of very different realms," he adds when Daine glances his way, "with all different sorts of magic - or none at all, like my realm."

And there were some who weren't exactly people, but that's more detail than they probably need to get into right now. He looks to Daine to continue the story.