applesaucedream | Better to Receive than to Give [open to all]

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Better to Receive than to Give [open to all]

Somewhere in the cosmos, there is something bright, and young, and playful. Somewhere, this being watches over their little flock and does their best to make those people safe and happy. Somewhere, that godling and their flock celebrate the winter holidays in the happiest of dreams.

And somewhere closer at hand, a sleeping giant stirs.

The bright tapestry of dream threads gathered by Zephyr is suddenly yanked hard enough to pull it from its temporary mooring. Something entirely unlike the little godling reels in the dreamers so neatly gathered and packaged up for it, bringing its own toys back to their proper place and taking all the others it can with them. Unsatisfied, it reaches out again and again, dragging in dreamers from all across the multiverse. It will snare them, all of them, and then it will possess them completely.

Perhaps it's fitting that when the stolen dreamers arrive in this new shared mindscape, they'll find they've been designated the Rift's Christmas gifts to itself. Each might awaken inside a dark box, or cocooned in…is that tissue paper? When they claw their way out they'll be greeted by the sight of an enormous evergreen tree laden with twinkling lights and kitschy knickknacks looming overhead. Beyond the shadow of the tree the rest of the world -- that is, the living room -- is just as large. Or is it that the dreamers have just become very small? Giant packages wrapped in bright paper form an obstacle course, but the wooden floor of the room is wide open between the tree and the hearth where an enormous plate of cookies and glass of milk await a cataclysmic Santa Claus.

All in all, things are fairly normal as far as the rift's dream gatherings go…at least on the surface. The more telepathically sensitive among the dreamers may notice an undercurrent of something darker, more urgent, and more possessive than normal. The rift isn't just sampling the wares of other worlds tonight; this time it means to play for keeps.

[OOC: This is the second part of our crossover with

wethelost! Part one can be found here. Usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters are welcome regardless of whether they are currently in the game, and characters may remember or forget the events of the dream party at the discretion of their players.

For reference, characters of average human height are roughly four inches tall according to the scale of their current surroundings. There is an entire giant house beyond the living room; characters will find a kitchen and dining room on the same floor, a staircase outside the door of the living room that leads up to a second floor with two bedrooms and a bathroom, and another staircase off the kitchen that goes to an unfinished basement. Feel free to add details as needed!

This event takes place on evening of August 8th/morning of August 9th in Applesauce time, and December 31 in WtL time.]

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Daniel yelps when his first step causes his toes to collide painfully with something that clangs hollowly, metal and vast and cylindrical, and he vaguely registers that he just stubbed his toe on a monster-sized bucket.

"You 'ported us into a closet?" He doesn't even sound accusatory - just startled, and maybe a little pained as he hops backwards on one foot, adjacent arm windmilling wildly for a means of support until it claps somewhat haphazardly over Peter's shoulder.

"How was I supposed to know?!" snaps Peter, more than a little shaken up by the near brush with a Broom Incident that could have answered once and for all the question of what happens when a person appears in a patch of space already occupied by a solid object. He starts again at the sudden hand on his shoulder, jerking away even though it's pretty obvious who it is only to stumble into said broom and fall down amidst the bristles. "Jesus! Fuck this house!"

Peter losing his balance consequently throws Daniel off as well, and he very nearly joins him in the thicket of broom bristles. Unfortunately, the slippery surface of the bucket doesn't provide the necessary support and in short order he too is sprawled unceremoniously on the floor of a darkened broom closet. One hand immediately flies to his glasses - he can't afford to lose them in his light - and, having assured himself of their presence, Daniel starts scrambling to his feet.

"All right, all right." He squints, barely able to perceive Peter's half-collapsed outline in the semidarkness. "Yeah, I get it, you couldn't have known. Just, let's -" The words break into a sigh. They don't even have a plan, they're just zipping around hoping they hit an exit somewhere. Somewhat wearily, Daniel looks down again and offers a hand, whether or not Peter will be able to see it. "Are you okay?"

"Just dandy," grouses Peter, squinting at the shape looming over him and trying to work out what Daniel's doing. He waves a hand to get the other man to back off, incidentally slapping Daniel's hand and sending a somewhat stronger message than he particularly intended in the moment. He lets the gesture stand, though, by getting up on his own and brushing himself off.

"This isn't working," he says. "Obviously. I'm going back to the start and I'm finding a direct route to hop out, no more of this popping under doors crap."

Woah, okay, then. Daniel retracts the hand immediately and shoves it into his pocket. Whatever tenuous truce they've managed to establish, it's apparently evaporated with Peter's fresh onset of irritation, which, honestly, isn't Daniel's fault but he's not about to raise an argument there.

"What, you mean just, like -?" He raises his eyebrows, shooting Peter a deeply skeptical look that he wishes he could communicate better in the darkness. "Through a window or something?"

It's not really irritation -- or alright, it is irritation because Peter responds to most things by either trying to fuck them or getting irritated by them -- but at the core of it, it's fear that has Peter on edge. He's badly shaken by the near miss with the broom, and he's upset by Daniel witnessing it and his reaction.

"Why not?" he asks. "I can see through a window." And not land in a broom.

"All right, all right." Daniel raises both hands in tired defeat. Frankly, he's finding he cares less and less how they get out and is more set on the hope that they just do. "Let's just - get out of the closet first."

And here's hoping Peter doesn't misinterpret that phrasing. Daniel wouldn't put it past him.

"...I'm so proud that you decided to share this moment with me," says Peter, utterly failing to suppress a titter. Guess that answers that little hope of yours, Daniel. He reaches out to put a hand on Daniel's shoulder, feigning seriousness now. "Alright, come on, it'll be okay now. I'll help you come out of the closet."

And so he does. Peter doesn't bother with the dining room they just left, but instead lands them right back where they started...and to a spot on the floor where he can remember a window looming above them.

Well, that's better than what Daniel was expecting, which was something more along the lines of the aggressive heterosexuality the Air Force was rather unfortunately good at propagating. As it is, Daniel just shuts his eyes resignedly and goes along with the bizarre sensation of being spontaneously warped to a new location. He's getting better at not being utterly shocked when this happens, and it doesn't even take him that long to readjust.

"For the record," he says evenly, backing away to evaluate the window, "I was already out of it." And he's going to leave that right where it is. Daniel is comfortably aware of his sexuality and rather less comfortably aware of the long-winded explanations it usually requires, and at this point he doesn't care what kind of conclusions Peter might draw.

The window is rattling faintly in its pane from what looks like some pretty vicious wind. Well, they can sort that out once the window's open. Assuming they can get it open.

Daniel cocks his head, arms folded. "Hmm. Getting up might be a problem. Unless you can just zap us up to the sill?" He waves a hand vaguely upwards.

"What, seriously?" Daniel's not supposed to confirm Peter's insinuations and be completely nonchalant about it. That's not how this works. Peter's left chuckling in shocked disbelief, less over his newfound assumption that Daniel is gayer than a dandelion and more over that delivery. It was well played, he has to give Daniel that even if only in his head.

He sighs and rolls his eyes at yet another question as to his abilities. "I can zap us anywhere," he explains. "Alright, nearly anywhere, there's a mile or two of range on it. I just don't if I don't know what's on the other side, okay? I can see it, I can get there. Simple as that."

"So you can, theoretically, get us onto the sill?" He cranes his neck briefly, for all the good that does. The window itself is visible despite the height but the sill isn't. "I'm assuming that includes height as well as longitude. I mean, you can't see the sill but you know it's there, so - ?"

He can't help but sound a little nervous about it. He's confident that Peter wouldn't do anything like that intentionally, even in a dream and even to Daniel, but if he tries to teleport them both up and misses, well. That's a long drop.

"What -- just -- stop it." Peter grimaces and flaps a hand at Daniel. "You're over-thinking it. Stop talking about it or you're going to make me over-think it."

And then they'll plummet to their dream deaths because he was trying to calculate instead of just doing it, is what he's saying. Peter rubs his temples and mutters the Enochian alphabet to himself under his breath to clear his mind; a moment later he's done and holding a hand out to Daniel even as he starts to conjuring an image of where he wants to go in his mind in place of worries about height and longitude. "Come on. Are we doing this or not?"

Well, that was a mistake. As difficult as it usually is for Daniel to clam up, this time he realizes that could potentially be a life or death error on his part. He obliges, arms folded, and - is that Enochian? So he's done his research since working out the whole Lucifer-repellant sigils thing, and it certainly sounds like it. Ordinarily he'd comment - who knew he and Peter could have something like that in common? - but Peter's quite explicitly told him to shut up and if shutting up means they won't be in any danger of dying due to a faulty teleport, he is definitely going to do exactly that.

"Yeah. Yep. Okay." Daniel takes Peter's hand in his again, a bit more tentatively. "You'll be fine," he adds encouragingly, and sort of immediately regrets it.

Talking about angelic languages might actually help Peter out at the moment, but it doesn't occur to him that Daniel might have an interest -- or that he'll even have any idea what Peter was just saying. He thinks it probably just sounded like some kind of weirdo chant or voice exercise, which is fine by Peter.

He's got his eyes unfocused as he imagines their destination, but he snaps back to attention long enough to look at Daniel and roll his eyes. Then he's tightening his grip, and then there's a signature clap of fire and displaced air and the two of them appear an unhappy three inches above the sill. Fortunately that's three inches on their own scale, not the scale of the house, but Peter still lets out a yelp and nearly teleports again before his feet hit the sill and he's too busy stumbling to keep his footing.

For an awful split second Daniel can feel himself falling - oh god oh god it didn't work - but his feet land on a solid surface and he steadies himself on the pane, even if his toes slip a little too closely to the edge for him to be entirely comfortable with Peter's aim.

Speaking of which.

"Woah, hey." One of Daniel's hands leaps out steadyingly when Peter looks like he's about to go sliding off himself which would just be really not pleasant. "Hey. Easy, there. You good?"

The snark goes out of Peter at least for the moment as he clutches Daniel's arm in a death grip and takes two big, emphatic steps away from the edge. He's shaking again and he'd be embarrassed at his display of fear and at his failure to land them in the right place after all that posturing if he weren't so overwhelmingly relieved that he's not currently falling to the floor far below. "Goddamn," he says shakily. "That wasn't the best idea."

Peter's unexpected latching onto Daniel's arm nearly sends him overbalancing, though thankfully Peter clears the edge enough to prevent any incredibly unpleasant repercussions. Like, say, tipping over.

"You're okay," he says reassuringly, noting how thoroughly unsettled Peter looks. "We're all good here. We just gotta, uh." He frowns quizzically at the window, the glass that's far too thick to break given their diminutive sizes. But Daniel's not about to call this trip a bust, not after what Peter's done to get them here. There's a latch, though it might take some joint effort to actually get it open between the two of them.

"There might be a way out here," he says, deliberately pitching his voice hopefully, more hopeful than he honestly feels about this. He's not entirely convinced Peter has the wrong notion about this being a bad idea; it almost definitely is. "If we can get the latch open, we could get out of the house and away from, well." The edge. The height. Et cetera. Daniel's concentrating very hard on not observing that dizzyingly steep drop.

It's been a long time since Peter fucked up a jump, and maybe it just reminded him that he used to try not to do it in dreams for fear he'd wake up to find he'd done it for real. He finally steadies himself (and remembers himself) enough to let go of Daniel, straightening to stand on his own and adjust his clothes with an air not entirely dissimilar to a cat that just fell off a countertop grooming itself.

"Or we could just teleport out," he suggests, eying the window dubiously. It's huge and the glass is thick and all he can see outside is snow. Now that he's up here, he's not so sure he wants out, though at least leaving the house might break the dream and allow them to wake up. Or they could dream about freezing to death.

"Or - we could do that, yeah," Daniel concedes lamely, supinating a hand. "I mean, there's always the possibility it won't work, if this structure is that, you know, established as a fundamental part of the dream." Wouldn't be the first time, after all.

He's also starting to note, rather worriedly, that it's a bit chilly outside, and shoots Peter a nervous look. "If you're willing to try, then um, then I'm on board. But, uh," and eying the thick drifts of snow outside, he adds, "I wouldn't blame you if you'd rather not."

"...We could try the latch," suggests Peter as though it's a new idea he's just had, remembering how much it had hurt (it isn't fair that dreams here can hurt) when the last dream they'd shared hadn't allowed him to teleport out of the shackles. He thinks to himself, too, that at least if they open the window and it's deathly cold outside, they have a better chance of getting back in than if they hop down to the ground and he loses Daniel in the snow.

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Better to Receive than to Give [open to all]

works well enough for me!

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