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

Current Mood: predatory

Entry tags:

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The cat blinks, head tilting almost imperceptibly to one side as it keeps its unblinking gaze on the pair of little creatures collapsed at its doorway. If it's aware that Daine thinks she's going to fight it, it doesn't show any concern over her snarl. You'll hurt yourselves if you try that again, it notes. You're so very little, you know.

Is that supposed to be a threat? He can't tell. He reaches up and rests a shaky hand on Daine's back.

He wants to agree with the cat. That would be the smart thing - the noble thing was trying to take the blame, which was transparent, and the cat doesn't seem interested in blame anyway. It could be very easy for them to just acquiesce and go back to where they were like good little dreamers. But the cat is part of the house, part of the framework of the dream, and he realizes he's angry at it for being complicit with the nightmare, apparently wanting them to stay in it.

"We don't want to be here," he rasps out, and hesitates to cough. He feels like he's going to find blood in his hand, but fortunately there's nothing. He directs a stare back at the cat, quietly challenging, testing the waters. "We want to dream somewhere else."

Oh, for--! Daine shoots Johnny an incredulous look. For a moment, she's tempted to tell him to speak for himself, or at least to refrain from making demands that her strength will have to back. But he's not just speaking for himself. Not really. Do any of the dreamers really want to be here?

So she turns back to the cat, an inaudible growl vibrating through her chest. Who are you? she asks, even though she thinks she might already know. Why did you bring us all here?

I want you to be here, replies the cat. Its opinion is the only one that matters, after all. You don't have to like it. All I've done is to bring you back where you belong, and you're perfectly alright just where you are.

Absently, it lifts a paw and starts washing itself, though it doesn't bother to feign looking away from them as it does. I would rather you refrained from trying to kill yourselves, you know.

Johnny laughs weakly, a ragged and humorless noise, and drops his head. That's about what he'd expected. He wonders if this is some trick of Zagreus, but that doesn't really follow. The cat seems different. Too - something. Put together, maybe.

It didn't answer either of Daine's questions, of course. At least... not the first one. His head still feels fuzzy, and the effort of thinking is difficult, grasping loosely at thoughts like trying to remember dreams upon waking.

"Bring us back?" he echoes finally. Is that it? "What does that mean? Back from where?"

Edited 2015-01-08 05:05 (UTC)

No! No, they'd missed their chance! Zephyr isn't fast enough to get back around to the front of the house to the door, fighting their way through the thick blanket of snow. They have too much fur, too many limbs, not enough focus to walk atop the soft powder like they would in the Meadous. Instead, the little god scampers and hops and bulls their way through, creating tracks that always seem to fill in behind them, never giving them a chance to create a proper pathway.

Angry, frustrated, when they finally reach it - closed, locked - they pound a fist against it, they ring the bell, and bark like a pack of feral dogs, something ferocious.

Let me in! Let them out!

Daine starts when there's a sudden pounding at the door - from the outside - accompanied by a horrendous racket, like the sound of dogs but without the accompanying feel of them. Something tells her this isn't part of the not-cat's plan. She glances between the door and the cat, then over at Johnny. Whatever's about to happen, they'd best not be in the middle of it.

She grows back into polar bear shape and thrusts her head under Johnny's arms, hoisting him off the floor. Hang on tight! she says tersely as she breaks into a trot, hustling them both toward the wall.

The cat stops washing itself, ears perked forward. For a moment it looks alarmed, but then it starts purring in response to the racket coming from the other side of the door. All mine! it calls back in a mental sing-song as it stand up. Conveniently, its little pets have endeavored to corner themselves against the wall, and it veers their way to indulge in rubbing its face over them, casually dodging a swipe from the wildmage's paw when they fail to cooperate. The visual will be lost on Zephyr, but the feeling of ownership it projects will be loud and clear through any metaphorical/metaphysical barrier as it saunters to the door and rubs its body against the sealed portal.

All mine, it purrs, the sound loud as a diesel truck. All of them.

Edited 2015-01-09 04:25 (UTC)

He suffers a sick jolt at the sudden cacophony, fuck, what is that, some other entity, a tempest or a beast, something come to break down the door - what the hell has he gotten them into? He doesn't have time to do more than give a small bodily jerk; Daine shoves her abruptly bear-shaped head unceremoniously under his arm, hoisting him up half onto her shoulder, and it's only panic-tuned reflexes that lead him to grasp onto her fur and let himself be hauled off to the side, out of the path between cat and door, and whatever lies beyond it. His grip isn't good enough to keep him there once she slides to a halt, and he slips down, catching himself on the wall and half-collapsing against it. His heart is hammering against his chest, his breathing sharp and painful, adrenaline burning under his skin. Where before he was numb, now he's at full-throttle panic, almost strangled by it.

He can hear the cat taunting whatever's outside, loudly proclaiming ownership of presumably him and Daine - is there someone trying to help them from outside? He turns, pressing his back against the wall, trying to see what's happening, but there isn't anything to see. There is only the cat, which is bending down toward them now, oh god, oh fuck, it's coming right at them, and for a gut-lurching, terrible moment he is certain it is about to eat them. He lets out a desperate yell, throwing up his arms in a pointless attempt to protect himself, and it presses against him, its monstrous purring deafeningly loud, rattling every bone in his body. The air goes out of him as it rubs the ridge of its enormous cheekbone against each of them, nearly crushing him against the wall, and it would be so absurd if it wasn't so terrifying. He knows little about cats, but he knows enough to recognize this body language: this is ownership. Pure possession. This is worse than being eaten, he thinks, because at least death means waking up; this is just utter defeat. Showing them how small and helpless they are.

It pulls away from them and drifts over to the door to repeat its little show there, but he barely notices, slipping back down to his knees, gasping for breath, trembling all over.

Zephyr's claws dig into the front door, gouges forming as they grit their teeth and fight against the barrier the Rift has up.

They don't belong to you. You're just a big meany who doesn't have any friends! They're helping me! They're helping me get stronger and they're going to keep helping me because you're a poop!

The little godling knows that their parents would likely chide them for saying such a rude thing to another entity, but they're upset and the Rift is being even worse than Pai. They won't stand for this. They can sense the fear from the other side, but what's more, they can sense a faint spark of hope. With a roar like a lion, Zephyr rips off a small piece of the front door. It's not enough to do any real damage, yet, but it's symbolic. They flex their claws and bare their teeth at the door.

I will never let you keep them.

Daine snarls and swings a paw at the not-cat as it tries to rub its cheek against her in a perverse imitation of a proper feline, but it dodges her easily on its way over to the door. There's no question of what that thing really is, and she stands protectively over Johnny's sprawled form as she tries to get her own breath back.

Then the being outside speaks. Daine blinks in astonishment at what it's saying. It sounds like a child, but it feels like something else, like it ought to be aglow with copper fire in her mind. There's something out there that is very much of the People. And it wants to help them.

She doesn't give the plan much thought. It wouldn't even really be fair to call it a plan. One moment she's a bear, and the next she's a falcon, wings pumping like mad as she climbs toward the ceiling. She hangs there a moment, high above the not-cat and Johnny's tiny form far below. Then she folds her wings and stoops toward the doorknob. Extending her talons as if to snatch a pigeon from the air, she shifts her feet and wings into tentacles and grips onto the doorknob as she tumbles past it, shifting her body into pony shape - heavy enough to wrench the knob around. She has no idea if it's enough of a turn to open it, but it's something. Tentacles straining against her own body weight, she casts her magic out like a net and addresses the entity outside: PLEASE HELP US!

Edited 2015-01-11 00:01 (UTC)

The cat gives an almost imperceptible flinch as a tiny piece of another aspect of itself is torn away. The injury is tiny and superficial, but the purring stops and its stance stiffens. Impertinent --! it starts to scold, but then one of its own toys chooses that moment to interfere.

The cat yowls as the knob turns too far for its comfort, and then it's jumping up, batting and grabbing at Daine with its claws retracted. If you're going to behave this way I'll put you back in your box! it threatens as it tries to pull her down from the doorknob and grapple her into submission.

Johnny hears something from outside, strangely muffled, like a voice underwater. Can't quite make out the words, but Daine seems to believe it wants to help, judging by the way she up and launches herself at the door. His head snaps up to watch her, jaw dropped, stunned and impressed as she pulls another multi-animal shift and gets the knob. Holy shit, can she open it? Can they let whatever's outside in? The sudden burst of action and possibility of help send a jolt of energy through him, and he's back on his feet immediately.

Unsurprisingly, the cat has gone for Daine now, batting at her like it would with a toy, and his heart rises into his throat - it could kill her so easily, and it might just. He can't just stand here. He doesn't think he can manipulate the house again, either. Which leaves him with very few options.

He doesn't hesitate before lunging, reckless, idiotic, and angry, and does the only thing that is within his current capacity: he grabs onto the cat's tail.

"Leave her alone!" he shouts, wrapping his arms around the fluffed up appendage and pulling as hard as he can.

The call to help from Diane pushes the godling onwards, the twist of the knob is enough for Zephyr to try and muscle their way inside. The struggle between not cat, Johnny and Diane could be just what the godling needs.

You can't have them!

If the door does open, a blast of cold snow will cut in through the cozy warm air of the house. As will anyone nearby see the not so small snow covered godling trying to push their way inside. Zephyr has no plans on giving up and will keep shouldering at the door to get it open.

A monstrous paw swats at her, but the claws are retracted. Daine pulls herself closer to the doorknob, trying to tuck herself into the well between the widest part of the knob and the door itself. In much the same instant, her back erupts with a defensive ridge of porcupine quills. Let the cursed thing try its paws on that.

A moment later, the door shudders as the being on the other side strikes it, and the vibration is enough for her to lose her grip on her mess of a shape - and on the door itself. She falls, tentacles lapsing into something that might be hooves or might be paws, then frantically grabs onto the first winged shape she can think of. She dwindles into a small, black speck of a crow, wings scooping at the air until she rights herself. Then she climbs, hoping to get out of the rift cat's range before it can take another swipe at her (though at this point, it might be more occupied with the door).

The cat's task is made more difficult by its desire not to kill Daine...or Johnny, for that matter. It drops to the floor with a scattering of porcupine quills in its paw pads, and turns to hiss at the little man glommed onto its tail as it shakes the paw and banishes the quills with an irritable thought.

Though its adversaries are small, they are irritatingly numerous at the moment. Daine need not worry; her falling (and then flying) form takes a backseat to the freezing air that whips through the open crack of the door and heralds the utterly improbable intrusion of the godling. The cat screams with rage, Johnny and Daine suddenly all but forgotten as it pounces on the door, paws bracing low on the door and pushing back with surprising strength.

From deep in the house come echoing yowls. It's not playing now -- one of it is not enough.

Johnny loses his grip on the tail when the cat turns and hisses terrifyingly at him, but apparently it doesn't mean to punish him, not with the door opening. Small favors. Actually maybe big favors, depending on what's trying to come through. Where's Daine gone? He can't see her anymore.

He scurries under the cat toward the door, trying to see if she's made it out, maybe make a break for it himself, but he freezes when he hears the distant yowling of more cats. Shit shit shit!

"Daine-!" he calls frantically. "Daine, where are you?"

The sudden, heavy shove back from the Rift throws Zephyr momentarily off, but they don't lose their spot. Now that the barrier has been breached, even a little, they have more of a sense of the inside, of the people trying to help them. They can't let them down, even if they aren't their flock. Daine and Johnny believe in them, just as there are others inside who believe in them.

Zephyr stamps one of their cloven hooves into the snow covering the stoop for leverage - finally there's something good to come of the thick, engulfing white - and tries to kick the other into the crack even as they continue to press forward. If they can just get their hoof in the door, they think they'll have a real chance, no matter how much pressure the Rift puts on.

Daine lets out a harsh caw of frustration as the cold wind blowing through the door buffets her little shape through the air, and it takes her a few moments to get out of the worst of it and relocate Johnny. There he is, close to the door - far too close for comfort, considering it's the center of a clash between the rift cat and something else. Something big and strong enough to muscle the door open. What if he's crushed?

Here! she calls out as she folds her wings and plummets to the ground, aiming for the arched legs of a colossal coat rack. Goddess knows she doesn't want to try landing in the doorway itself - not with that wind coming in. She lands, claws skittering over the floor, then takes wolf shape and bolts towards him. Can you see what's out there?? They might be able to fit through the door (and with more cats coming, bolting out of the house is starting to seem like it might be a good idea), but they won't make it far if their unknown ally steps on them.

[Continued here.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Better to Receive than to Give [open to all]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject