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

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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.]

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He's already started backing away furiously, heels slipping against the plush of the rug, stumbling slightly when his hip grazes the bookshelf. There's an explainable spike of horror zinging powerfully through him, spurred by the revelation that no matter how much he may try, it's doubtful he will ever understand what it is the Devil wants with him.

"Yeah, well, I'm thinking that's, you're -" Halting, stuttering speech, and a hand pushed through hair that's already been jostled into agitated disarray. Daniel has to fight back the unexpected press of panic over his chest and compress his thoughts into something at least partially coherent, looking at the Devil in tired dismay. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Breathe, Daniel," he says, even though technically Daniel doesn't need to breathe, because this is a dream. But it's supposed to be a calming thing, anyway, for humans to consciously regulate their respiration. Lucifer has ceased to question the logic of such things.

"You're starting to panic. You ought to sit down and compose yourself."

His fractured anxiety hardens into a frown, pinning the Devil with a firm glare.

"You haven't answered my question."

Not that Daniel is expecting all that coherent an answer from Satan, nor does he sit down. He grips the bookshelf's edge very tightly and tamps down his own escalating sense of dread.

"Will receiving an answer make you feel as though you have some control in this situation?" he asks, because he doesn't care if he's being a shit or not.

"Does the why even really matter all that much? I am interested in you, righteous man. It's a fact that you should learn to live with, because I am nothing if not very, very patient."

He smiles, and though it's a fairly gentle smile, it's probably not all that comforting to Daniel.

"And I'm immortal, Daniel, so I can promise you that I don't get bored easily."

Oh, like Daniel needs reminding. He's spent far too much of his time trying to regain control in situations where that's clearly not an option - being the unwilling subject of the Devil's interest now, regretfully, included.

He can't fully fend back the chilling prickle that runs down the back of his neck at the moniker, deposited so casually and evenly and almost playfully. Righteous man. Righteous, and angry, and defiant, and ultimately helpless in the face of something that's bigger than him. Not that that's ever stopped Daniel, but in this context especially, he knows this isn't a winnable struggle - particularly since he can't even figure out what it is about him the Devil finds so uniquely interesting.

Daniel makes a bitterly amused, mildly hysterical noise, short and abrupt, and shrugs.

"Yeah, well, I can't seem to be able to die, so I can promise you that I'm pretty patient."

Is that even a threat? Was it meant to be a threat? It doesn't sound like a threat. Daniel has no idea what that was even remotely meant to accomplish or mean even, but he keeps backing away.

"Even better," he says, because if Daniel doesn't stay dead, than it would just save Lucifer the trouble of bringing him back himself.

"Did you rise on the third day, in fulfillment of the Scriptures? Should I call you Yeshua? I think you look like an agnus dei. You could maybe be a bit more lamb-like, but you've got the sacrificial part down pat."

And he freed the slaves of Abydos, too, and fought against forces named after pagan deities. Put on that crown of thorns and have yourself a Crusade, Daniel, you fit the Christ mold like a glove.

"Third day?" Wait no, he's not in the mood to debate anagogical importance with Satan, least of all in application to himself. "No, no, try descending after a year. There was no rising, and there was no, ah, well, you know, it was awful hard to keep track, there on the higher, um, higher plane."

Don't think Daniel has missed the oh so obvious hilarity of his name and all the biblical jokes that can be plumbed from it, but he's getting the more and more distinct impression that he's flailing hopelessly in a cosmic-scale game of cat and mouse with the odds stacked so high against him that it's, quite frankly, absurd.

"Anywho," says Daniel, with an almost manic edge to the forcibly light tone, "if you're, um, quite done making shaky theological comparisons, I'm gonna, I dunno, wake myself up or something." Not that it would help, because the Devil can just go and find him the minute he leaves his building anyway. Add that to the fact that Daniel still can't figure out how to wake himself up, and he's left more or less floundering.

How typical.

Lucifer will just patiently wait for a few beats.

"Do you need some help?"

Lucifer is just going to placidly look at Daniel while he's still resolutely stuck in the dream, not at all gently mocking him about his inability to get away from the Devil when he wants to. Nope, nothing at all like that going on here.

Help? What, like does Daniel want him to brutally murder him until he wakes up or something?

Daniel stares at Lucifer in an expression of horror that quickly resolves into one that realizes it should have known better than to expect anything else at this point.

"Ah," says Daniel. "No. No, I think I'm fine. Th - no thanks."

And with that, he is just going to - go over there. No need to follow him or anything. Just, just dodging into the next room, then the next, looking over his shoulder all the way in a vague panic.

Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

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