applesaucedream | Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

photo dream party visual_zpsua3sjlqf.jpg

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don't bother trying to logic the stoned eloim, Aziraphale. Rashad just shrugs, his mouth bent in an idiotic little smile as he tightens his grip just a little in response to the squirming. It's nice. Isn't it nice, fellow angel?

"I do not know."

Aziraphale is becoming rapidly less interested in receiving this 'affection' from the disagreeable - well, agreeable, but only presently agreeable - creature. He shifts awkwardly with nowhere to go, both of them ridiculously crowded into this armchair.

"'My demon', as you're so fond of calling him, could disrupt us at any moment," he says warningly¹.

¹ If Aziraphale were more pop culture savvy he might have realized how much this sounds like 'if my boyfriend finds out about this you'll be SORRY', and would be accordingly mortified.

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.

"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.

"I have not suggested you go away," says Rashad, utterly missing the latest in a long, long line of hints. He mulls over the Demon Problem, oblivious to Aziraphale's thoughts beyond a dim awareness of the angel's general emotional milieu. If the demon does interrupt them, what then? He will not give this up easily, but Aziraphale is unlikely to see sense.

"He might join us," he finally suggests.

Aziraphale lowers his head and covers his face briefly with his free hand. "He certainly would not," he says wearily. He lifts his head back up and levels a stare at Rashad, telling himself all right now, enough. "This is highly improper," he says sternly. "I would be hard-pressed to describe you as anything other than an enemy. You can't just go around - cuddling people whose shops you've set on fire." And other things besides. The lecturesque format of his complaint is a bit ridiculous, but he still feels awkward about it, and he knows, distressingly, that he'll be bereft for the contact if Rashad does depart. What a dreadful imposition.

Rashad just looks at him with wide, adoring eyes, giving every sign he's listenin to the brief lecture short of ceasing to glom himself onto Aziraphale's side. "It was necessary at the time," he says, not the least bit bothered. He doesn't feel the slightest bit awkward or conflicted about all of this. He feels warm and happy and inclined to spread his warmth and happiness, and it is as simple as that for him.

"Do you not find this comfortable?"

Aziraphale grunts and says reluctantly, "Well - yes, but that's not the point. Regardless of bodily comfort, it's important to ensure that the other party wants whatever it is you're - doing. Before you do it."

It's clear that Rashad has a very non-existent comprehension of etiquette on this front, and Aziraphale isn't entire sure how to get through to him. He lifts an eyebrow, watching the eloim out of the corner of his eye. "Do you understand?"

It is a difficult concept for him to grasp. What difference should someone's wants make to him? So long as he is not harming the other person (and he isn't; he trusts his own judgment), why should it matter? Emotions are fleeting things; Rashad knows this better than anyone.

"...No," he admits from where he has his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. "I do not understand."

Aziraphale sighs heavily and pulls away as much as he can, turning to look seriously at Rashad. "You can't understand," he says, "I suspect because you don't have empathy. Which is precisely why you must not interact with people like - like this. It isn't fair to them. They don't know what you are, what you can do - that isn't just."

Surely he can understand that.

"I can sense their feelings," objects Rashad. "Is empathy not the act of understanding how another being feels?"

He's correct about the first part, but to say that Rashad understands the feelings he senses is slightly disingenuous, whether he means it to be or not. "I do not intend to harm anyone," he adds. "The death of mortals only increases the entropy present in their realm."

Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Aziraphale teaches an important lesson about consent

no subject

no subject

no subject