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

[andhiswife]

"I think I'll survive," she says, watching him examine her hand with a wry smile. A woman from the court might have soft hands, but Greta's are accustomed to work, strengthened by years of kneading dough and toughened by a series of inevitable minor burns. They're not so calloused as his, and the strings probably will be a bit rough on her at first, but she might cope better than most.

She's very pleased he seems to like the idea. Learning an instrument is something of an indulgence back home, something she certainly never thought she'd get to do, and it's exciting to think of getting a chance to pick one up, after all. How lucky for her to have befriended a good musician so quickly!

"I'm glad you're here," she says warmly, curling her fingers around his. "You're a good friend."

[singthesong]

The Balladeer considers her hand a moment longer, before folding his longer fingers over hers and dropping both back down to the blankets. Yeah, she'll do just fine.

With a sudden surge of affection, he squeezes her shoulders gently and leans his cheek down against the top of her head. "Thank you," he says, quietly. He does not say that no one's ever said anything that nice to him before, but it's in his voice. "I'm glad you're here, too."

(Were they not in such a warm and cozy dream, he'd probably not have said he's glad she got pulled away from her home. But she knows what he means.)

[andhiswife]

She'd said it mostly on impulse, not really considering the broader implications - though the gentle squeeze and somewhat awed thanks remind her that the Balladeer probably hasn't had many opportunities to make friends before. Not while hopping through time and conversing mostly with murderers, poor fellow. Even if he had friends before, when he was a child (he was a child once, right?), how often could he possibly see them while working? And it seemed like he was almost always working.

It must have been a very lonely sort of life. No wonder he was so cheerful about landing in Manhattan.

Well. He has at least one friend, now, and she is glad of that, too. Greta runs her thumb in a little arc over his fingers. "We'll be all right," she says, almost wonderingly, because for the first time since her arrival, she thinks she believes it.

[singthesong]

"Yes," the Balladeer agrees warmly, holding Greta close and sighing in contentment. He's in no hurry to get up, or even really think about moving right now. "I think we will."