Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Hello, dreamers of Manhattan. The Rift knows that things have been kind of rough, lately. The last dream didn't go as well as it had hoped. Consider this an apology of sorts, and a hearkening back to the good times you've shared.

It's a grand old (and potentially familiar) cabin house that the dreamers will find themselves wandering. The furniture is plentiful and comfortable, the floors are strewn with cushions and blankets, and there are cheerful fires burning in the grates. It seems a little odd that the house still manages to be on the chilly side despite looking so warm, yet it is.

Oh, well. You'll just have to find another dreamer or two and spoon up and fall asleep like little baby cats get cozy. It shouldn't be difficult; most of the dreamers (excepting those with strong telepathic defenses or deeply ingrained cuddle-averse personalities) will find themselves feeling friendlier than usual, along with an almost overwhelming desire to snuggle up to someone. How convenient that the house seems designed for that very purpose!

And if some of the cushions are Hello Kitty themed, well, that's just coincidence.


[OOC: Standard dream party rules apply. Characters will be affected by the dream-whammy to whatever degree makes the most sense for them, and will remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. Backtag into infinity.]

Comments

[peacefulexplorer]

The concerned frown on Daniel's face deepens. But that's just the problem - Daniel doesn't want Satan to be an ally, or an associate, or anything. But forcing him to be the opposite would simply be a death sentence, or the Daniel Jackson equivalent since death sentences don't seem to have their typical permanence when extended to him.

"What, you, you think we were brought together on purpose?" He doesn't want to entertain the notion that the Rift could have placed him here specifically for Satan's benefit. He really doesn't. But he only arrived a few days before the Devil himself, and they met almost immediately after the bloodbath that was Lucifer's introduction to Manhattan and - oh god. Oh god. "Like some - like, you mean fate?"

Daniel has a lot of goals in life. Being destined as something of a secondhand vessel or affiliate for Satan really isn't one of them.

[wentdowntogeorgia]

"I wouldn't call the Rift a vehicle of fate, exactly," he says, "but it's very coincidental, don't you think? Especially that there are multiple people from the same universe here. What are the odds, out of all the people in all the universes that it could have picked from, for it to, say, have randomly selected Gabriel and myself?"

The odds were too astronomical for it to have been simple chance. The probabilities of randomly picking two people from the same universe, and from within a few months of each other in the timeline, is so remote as to be basically impossible.

"Even if the Rift isn't sentient or sapient, you have to admit that the only reasonable explanation is that it has some sort of criteria for the people it takes. And, for one reason or another, both of us matched, Daniel."

[peacefulexplorer]

"All right," Daniel concedes delicately, staring fixedly at the faint wisps of steam rolling off the surface of the disturbingly real coffee. "So I'll, I'll give you that. We have - something - in common." It's true, what he's saying about the odds. It's simply so unlikely that multiple entities from the same universe would be drawn out and displaced to here, exit point Manhattan, within months of each other. The Rift's cruel sense of humor? Does it even have a sense of humor?

With visible effort, Daniel forces himself to look the Devil in the eyes again, trying and failing not to shudder at the veil of darkened presence he can barely perceive. The embodiment of sin and destruction and pride, clad in an innocuous man and chatting with Daniel over coffee.

He continues despite it. "But no more or less than any of the other rifties. They're victims of the same set of circumstances that we are. There's nothing about our - association, or relationship, or whatever you wanna call it, that makes us any different."

He hopes.

[starlightcalliope]

Calliope is pleased as punch to have successfully offered him something equally thrilling and smiles broadly at his reaction, blanket slipping back a little further. His origin story sounds a little confusing, but perhaps he is simply under a slight misapprehension, or maybe Ancients is what trolls are called in his culture, and then he brings up something far more captivating anyway.

"Oh I wish," she exclaims emphatically. "What an amazing opportunity that would be, to see just how much of my fanciful speculations measure up to actual fact. And to have all those enigmas and maddening gaps strewn about their tale solved once and for all! Alas, all I ever had access to were the written records of a magnificent scholar." She pitches forward further, as though imparting a great trade secret. "But I have been getting to do just so much hands-on research on humans since I woke up in this city!"

[peacefulexplorer]

Callie's features become a little more distinct as she leans forward and her hood slides back, confirming Daniel's first impressions of fangs, clearly defined cheekbones, and an oddly lurid green complexion. Her face almost looks skull-like in the shade of her little blanket cave, though her expression of academic glee is unmistakeable.

"There's certainly no shortage of humans of here." As well as a myriad of other beings, some which probably warrant a fair amount of research and plenty others in which attempting research may result in death, but bringing up either would just be needlessly complicated at this early point. "In fact, if you want we could meet in the waking world, and I could tell you a whole lot about human culture or any of the other cultures I've seen."

[wentdowntogeorgia]

"Maybe, maybe not."

At least he's acknowledging the possibility that there's only a tenuous connection between them, but he doubts it. What are the odds that the Rift would bring in a man who is so very similar to his former vessel, and then would bring them together so quickly?

Or, perhaps, it's that they would find each other so quickly, no intervention by the Rift required. His connection to Sam had been like gravity, pulling him to Lucifer like iron to magnets. Inevitable. Perhaps Daniel has been drawn by the same force, albeit more weakly-- a paramagnetic mineral instead of Sam's ferrous.

"I noticed a trend, Daniel. You, myself, and Iman arrived here within a few days of each other. Aziraphale arrived a week before I did. Two angels, one former Ascended, and a dimensional physicist. All people who operate on or within a different plane of existence, and doesn't it seem odd that the Rift would bring in several of those all at the same time?"

[theoldgirl]

Rush's description of the other ship is immensely fascinating and quite surprising, to have something so familiar exist in another universe. Could these Ancients be his reality's Time Lords, their ships something like her kind? His explanation assures that she feels just enough of a potential kinship to be dismayed at the news of its fate.

"That is dreadful," she says, her look of keen interest replaced by one of sorrow. "I would have very much liked to meet it. We seem to have had a lot in common." Though, as eager as she is for true company, she wouldn't have wished this universe on it either. "I barely survived the transfer, myself," she admits glumly. To say nothing of her catastrophic escape attempt.

[peacefulexplorer]

Aziraphale. Daniel remembers the name - Melanie's caretaker, apparently an angel as well? From Lucifer's universe? There's a paradoxical mix of emotions in that. On one hand, if she's being looked after by an angel she's probably being kept safe but on the other, Lucifer seems to have some elevated interest. Daniel folds his arms over his chest, an unconscious display of the associated worry.

"So, what? It's, it's harvesting specific extradimensionally-inclined individuals?" The thought is more than a little concerning, however more concerning it can be over Lucifer taking an unmediated interest in the unwilling subject of Daniel Jackson. "For what purpose? You think that means we're all connected somehow? That we're meant to - better understand it somehow?"

The Rift operates on its own agenda, if it has an agenda at all, but why in the name of all things holy and unholy would it recruit Lucifer to this cause? Or are they, is Lucifer, rather, searching for patterns where there are none? Unless he has some greater understanding of the great cosmic butterfly's wings, even in this limited space, which is entirely possible. But Daniel's quite certain he doesn't want to get drawn into an investigation if said investigation is going to involve working beside Lucifer - though, really, he wouldn't have a great deal of choice if that were the case.

[lottawork]

Rush himself can't restrain his mourning for the ship's loss, all that Destiny was and promised to have been, even if the Rift's cosmic breach had been its ultimate destination.

A startling, absurd urge creeps up to brush at the TARDIS's arm in some motion meant to be consoling, or reassuring, or supportive, or some manner of intuitive dream-catalyzed bullshit that the TARDIS would no doubt not appreciate coming from him despite their tentative interpersonal bonding. Rush crosses his arms, pulling his shoulders up against the permeating cold, brow creased in an unusual display of sincere sympathy.

"It damaged you." The conclusion is distressing, to say in the least, and for a wild moment Rush suppresses a vicious spike of anger at the thing that would dare, that temperamental, incomprehensible aberration in space-time that defies all their attempts at logic and understanding, for confining something like the TARDIS that should, by all other reasoning, be unconfinable.

Rush grinds the knuckles of a agitated closed fist over his upper lip, silently furious.

"Fuck."

[i_jones]

Ianto resolutely avoids looking at the Doctor, bringing his feet up onto the couch and wrapping his blanket a little tighter around him. Regret catches up with him in waves. He knows he's being childish. He's the most well-aware that every time he confronts World Eaters or weird beaky-headed aliens or cannibals or memory creatures (that he can't remember) he utterly fails and people get hurt and die. Or he gets hurt and dies. Or both, frequently Is this a terrible argument? Yes. Should he have punched the Doctor for the reasons he did? Nnno. He just has a lot of feelings and no one to punch about it, okay.

He leans back against the couch and stares at the knotted wood above the windows. He takes a measured breath. Why does he ever fall asleep? "I traveled with you. In another universe. You tried so hard to fix me." The rest of his breath leaks out in an irritated sigh. "Ianto Jones."

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad is greatly enjoying the coziness of this chair and his fellow occupant thereof. It's like he's cuddling with the furniture as well as with an angel -- all very ideal, of course. If he is going to do something, it is right that he should do it well, and he thinks he is doing very well at this indeed.

"He is not interrupting us now," he points out. He does stop holding quite so tight, though, the topic of the demon enough to cut through some of the warm haze. He does not want the demon to come, though it seems to him even the presence of a denizen of the Pale could not ruin the good time he is having. "We could tell him to go away again if he does," he suggests after a moment of silence to work it out.

[omnomnom_feels]

Such a sweet child. Surely she can be trusted; how could a face like that lie?

"You mustn't tell anyone," he says, "But I'm really an eloim -- an angel."

He's not the latter, but it does not seem harmful to say that he is. It is close enough to the truth, and it should be the truth.

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie's face lights up. "You're an angel?" she whispers excitedly, scooting up alongside him until she's practically in his lap. "I know an angel! He keeps me safe. His name is Aziraphale - do you know him?"

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie shakes her head slowly in bewildered disagreement. "When you're feared, people keep you locked up. That's what they used to do back home. They kept us all strapped into wheelchairs whenever we weren't locked in our rooms."

"Besides," she continues, standing up a bit straighter, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

[apidae]

"We should!" agrees Bee, climbing into the space Dana's made for her and huddling gratefully under the blankets. Dana is nice and warm compared to her, and she isn't shy at all about snuggling up close. "I'm sorry, I've been terrible about getting in touch with people. And it gets harder the longer you avoid it, you know. How have you been doing?"

[noteasybeingblue]

"It is your duty," says Illyria, "to use that fear. Even here. Now." The child radiates power, nothing near the grandeur of a Primordial God-King, perhaps, but power nonetheless. That it would not think to use this power is unfathomable.

"With your strength you could do much." She pauses. This symbiote is a strange and curious creature simply by its own nature, but its complete lack of a desire to conquer as it so could makes it even more so. "But you choose not to."

[apidae]

She smiles slowly, reassured by his pragmatism, and ends up moving even closer, slipping an arm around his. She can't help it. She's cold okay.

"Oh I don't think I'm abnormal," she says. "I know I am. I've been different my whole life. And I don't mean the way where - like how my brain works differently from other people. Because there's that too. But that's not so strange. A lot of people are like that." She hopes he's following her on this vague ramble, because she's too shy to go further in depth, barreling onward instead: "It's more than that. It's the way I see people. Maybe it won't seem strange to you, but as far as I know I'm the only human like this."

She tries to sound just as matter-of-fact - she has come to terms with her ability, after all, or at least the fact that she has it and is evidently unique in that capacity. It's difficult to be truly glib about something that is so hard for others to bear, though.

"I can see people's lives," she says, a little bit of a recitation now, she's become so used to explaining. More difficult to hide it here, where she's constantly meeting new people who are sometimes themselves extraordinarily empowered. "Not in detail, but the general trajectory, sort of. Where it began and how it's been, like I'm looking at the big picture of it from far away. But it's very strong. And I can't... turn it off." Back to fidgeting. "It doesn't work in dreams. But when I met the other Doctor it was... sort of a lot to handle. And I guess with you it'll be even more."

She stills her hands and slumps back against him. "People don't like that I can see that kind of stuff," she mumbles. "That's why it's hard to meet them, sometimes."

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie studies his expression. He looks like he really means it, not like he's just being polite. Biting back a relieved grin, she places her little hand in his. "Okay." Then, "I am safe here. I promise I won't hurt you."

[all_the_gifts]

"No," Melanie says, appalled. She takes a step back, eyeing Illyria with a disapproving frown. "I can't do that here. Everyone would die." It was one thing to finish the cordyceps' takeover back home. It was inevitable; all she did was hurry things along a little. But she can't be responsible for starting something like that.

[boneshaker]

He smiles and straightens back up, holding onto her hand. She feels a little chilly. "Are you cold?" he says. "Let's, um, let's find you some blankets."

Not exactly a tall order. Right over there, by this room's fireplace, there's a roomy armchair with several blankets draped over it. Castor's not much for getting so close and personal as others he's seen so far, but he's not about to leave a little girl cold and alone. She'd probably like the contact, wouldn't she? He can do this.

He leads her over to the chair, glancing down at her. "Is this okay?"

[bibliophale]

"I certainly would not," says Aziraphale haughtily. "In any case, he's just as impervious to suggestion as someone else in this room." He narrows his eyes at Rashad. Not that he actually has told Rashad to leave. His body language is suggesting it about as loudly as possible, but - he doesn't quite have the heart to say something flat out. This is such a pleasant dream, after all, and... well, no one is really being harmed, are they?

He senses himself warming to the presence of the eloim and utters a quietly appalled sound. How dreadful. He should do something to put a stop to this. Right. That's what he's going to do.

...In a minute, maybe.

[noteasybeingblue]

"You would live." This is apparent, though the differences between conquest and massacre maybe be few and varied, and a god can so rarely have one without the other. Yet a kingdom without subjects is not a kingdom at all, but a wasteland, and therefore without meaning. Perhaps even a small and new symbiote-thing can understand this.

"You would prefer - not to rule?" This, too, is an alien concept. Some would prefer to follow, this is true, but there is doubt in Illyria's mind (doubt, laughable, something removed from what a god should be, what she no longer is) that this child-thing would acquiesce to even that.

[wentdowntogeorgia]

"I can't speak on the Rift's intentions, if it can even have any," he says. "I haven't been able to examine it closely enough to determine if it's even sentient or not. It could be acting on its own accord, or it could be a tool used by something else, or it could be simply a natural phenomenon of this universe."

He couldn't really say if it could act on its own agenda, so speculating on what that agenda might be is pointless until they have better information. All he can do now is point out the patterns-- and it's fairly obvious that, sentient or not, the Rift is capable of discerning between wanted and unwanted individuals, based on some sort of criteria.

"But it certainly makes for an interesting little ontological mystery, doesn't it?"

[fucking_ebay]

It's not really fair that she could just show up and know he wasn't a complete dick. People don't do that -- don't just show up in his life and decide they want to spend time with him. Not for the sake of his personality, at least. Or they do, lately, though of course it blew up when it came to Lucy and Gabe started out by terrorizing him before deciding he wanted to be friends.

"I barely even know who you are," he points out as much to himself as to Bee. That thought seems to occur to him a bit belatedly considering he just more or less agreed to hire her.

[peacefulexplorer]

Daniel's eyes narrow incrementally as he slides his fingers between the book's pages and lets it fall open on his lap.

"Maybe," he answers, acharacteristically laconic as he processes that particular theory. It's admittedly intriguing, but it's not something he wants to discuss over coffee with Satan.

He looks at Lucifer again, expression careful and composed and even, but quite unable to completely mask the darkened undercurrent beneath.

"Or maybe you're looking for patterns where there aren't any. Maybe I'm just Daniel, pulled in at random, and maybe you're seeing something in me that simply doesn't exist."

Immediately after he says it, the breath tightens in his chest. Oblique challenges to Lucifer or not, suggesting what he's suggesting might be the surest way to confirm to the Devil that Daniel is of no interest to him, consequently increasing the risk of possible immediate painful death.