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

[wildmage_daine]

And speaking of little baby cats…

Careful with that pile of wildlife-patterned blankets and cushions heaped in front of one of the fireplaces: it may contain traces of actual wildlife.

Daine is there, in snow leopard shape - it seems fitting for reasons she can't quite pin down, and the air is on the chilly side. She's twisted into some boneless configuration, half-hidden under a blanket, most of her furry belly exposed to soak up the warmth of the fire. The most noticeable part of her is her incredibly fluffy tail, which extends out across the floor and curls idly back and forth, demonstrating that she's actually awake despite all other outward appearances.

She might not be accosting anyone - seems rude, in this shape - but she definitely wouldn't mind company.

[postictal]

This isn't like any house Tim's been in before. No seedy hotel rooms, for one, and that's become something of a staple for him even in the newest city backdrop of his life. Nothing here is broken-down or burned either, which is an odd change of pace.

There's a fairly out-of-the-way armchair that Tim wastes no time in claiming with a faint, contented sigh. One hand creeps idly to the faintly rattling pack of cigarettes in one pocket, but he realizes he doesn't feel the itch. This is nice just like this. Whatever...this is. He doesn't think he's ever felt this weirdly relaxed. The sound of someone approaching causes him to automatically stiffen and grip the arms of his seat, but it's purely reflexive. Can't blame him for being wary. Just look at his life.

[rae_of_sun]

Hey, this is pretty nice. Almost too nice, but for whatever reason, Sunshine is not inclined to look this gift house in the architectural equivalent of a mouth. (Medicine cabinet?)

The chill in the air is a little unfortunate, but the place is well equipped with ways to stave off the cold. She's acquired some tea from a little kitchen - she just sort of helped herself, comfortably convinced that no one would mind if she brewed up a pot - and now she's relocated pot, cups, and herself to a nice little library with an abundance of seating and side tables. She's curled up on a loveseat, a thick blanket over her lap and her tea steaming on the end table beside her, a book balanced on her knee. She's leafing through it idly, not so absorbed that she doesn't look interruptible. There is an extra teacup for any interested parties, after all.

[johnny_truant]

This is, possibly for the first time ever, a house he thinks he can deal with.

It's really nice. Aggressively nice, in fact, but in exchange for aggressively not that, he'll take this any day. And anyway he feels good. (That in itself is too familiar, the first dream he had here was also a house, also a sourceless feeling of comfort, the ease that allowed him to fall so neatly into Zagreus' very first trap, but it's so easy to just push that down - don't think about it, it's so much better not to think about it.)

He doesn't settle yet, choosing instead to wander, looking for someone he knows. He really wants company, maybe from someone other than the usual - not for the usual reasons, either. That, too, is a little strange, but he doesn't stop to analyze it. He steps from one inviting room into another, scanning for a familiar face.

[apidae]

Bee giggles aloud - she just can't help it, everything is so nice and cozy and lovely, and it's been so long since there was a really nice dream like this. She curls up happily into her big cushy armchair, which is certainly large enough to accomodate more than one person, pulling her bare feet under piles of soft blankets, and peeking around, hoping to see someone who'll join her. Someone should definitely come join her! She's all alone and that won't do at all. Besides, she's such a good cuddler, and it's so rare that she really gets the chance.

[bibliophale]

Well, if he must dream - it might as well be a dream like this. He looks appraisingly at the homey, just shy of kitschy environment, hands on his hips like a man proud of his own work. Not that he had anything to do with this. But it's certainly welcome. One might even say he needed it.¹

He roams around curiously, seeking a library, and delighting when he finds one. Rich wooden bookshelves packed with lovely volumes - oh, he's definitely staying in here. Anyone who wants to enjoy his company is going to have to find him.

He gets himself a veritable stack, settles into an armchair just by the fire, miracles himself a cup of cocoa, and gets down to a good rowdy² reading session.

¹ 'One' would have to, because Aziraphale certainly isn't going to admit it.

² Unlikely. Is Hans Christian Andersen ever risque?

[all_the_gifts]

This is bad. This should be bad. She's outside the safety of Aziraphale's flat, and there are people everywhere. There are so many ways this could go horribly wrong. She's not safe.

But she feels safe. Melanie gives her head a brisk little shake, as if she can jostle the feeling loose, but it doesn't go anywhere. She remains illogically convinced that everything is going to be fine, and that all the people in this house are nice, and that she could walk right up to any one of them and wrap her arms around them and it would be good, and the box would stay shut.

She should probably find Aziraphale.

Melanie pads through the house on silent feet, unbothered by the faint nip in the air. With all these people, surely she'll run into someone she knows before too long. Poking her head through the first doorway she comes across, she ventures a soft, "Hello?"

[andhiswife]

Greta has found a kitchen. Not just any kitchen, but one equipped with an old-fashioned, wood-burning oven, free of any bewildering array of buttons or knobs or other 'settings' she's yet to work out. As cozy as this place seems, it just isn't complete without the smell of baking. Yes, that is the one thing this lovely house lacks.

Though this isn't her house or her kitchen, she feels perfectly at ease bustling around and gathering the ingredients for what is certain to be a delicious batch of cookies. Before too long, some enticing smells will start to waft out into the hallways, and anyone who follows them to their source will find a cheerful, be-floured Greta carefully sliding a tray out of the oven.

[boneshaker]

This is - what is this?

It's like no place he's ever been, nothing he can remember. The word is cabin, he's fairly sure, a cozy secluded home in the woods somewhere, but why is he here? How did he get here? He can't remember coming in. That should be alarming, shouldn't it - but he's not alarmed. How can he be? Everything is so soft and inviting. This place feels safe. Like home, even being as different from home as it could possibly be.

He wanders, not entirely sure what to do with himself, from room to room. He sees a few people here and there, many of them sitting close, entangled, and it looks nice, but - he can't do that, not with people he doesn't know. He's not even sure he could do it with people he does know. In the end he finds himself settling on the floor near a fire, shoulders hunched, studying the crackling display. He can keep warm if he stays here, at least.

[powerdealer]

About bloody time the Rift gives him a non-horrific shared dream. Seth can't even remember the last one. The high school one, maybe? And that was a month ago. How many has he had since then that have ranged somewhere between 'awful' and 'deeply traumatising'? Too many to count, it feels like. The only pleasant ones he's had has been most definitely private. So you'll excuse him if he still feels a bit wary about this one.

...The cheer does creep in a little though, so depending on the company he might feel a little more amenable to relaxing. For now he's just aimlessly wandering, peeking carefully into rooms, exploring and looking for familiar or friendly faces.

[etherthief]

Anyone looking for some extra friendly company will find Iman sprawled along the top of a couch like a cat on a branch. Aw yeah. This is the best. She's reasonably sure this is a dream, but that's cool. She could do with a nice one.

"Heyyyy," she says to the nearest person. She is definitely not drunk. She might seem a little drunk, but that's just cause she's so happy. "Hey. C'mere."

[andhiswife]

Greta is now on a mission to put a plate of cookies in every room - a worthy goal, she thinks - but thus far, she hasn't done more than exchange friendly (if somewhat shy) smiles with the people she's passed. When a woman calls to her from atop a couch, Greta pauses and does a little 'who, me?' check to either side before approaching.

"… Yes?" That seems too formal for the setting, so she adds a sheepish, "Hello."

[etherthief]

Iman lifts her head to see who she's just accosted and hey, it's a pretty lady. With cookies! "Hi!" she says brightly. She rolls gracefully inelegantly down onto the couch cushions and pokes her head back up, hijab slightly askew. She sticks out a hand, either for a shake, a kiss, or a cookie. Very possibly all three. "My name's Iman. Did you make those?"

[johnny_truant]

He recognizes the snow leopard - I mean who else would it be - and grins loosely as he ambles over.

"Hey," he says, settlng down beside her. "I don't know about you, but I am enjoying this a lot more than the last one."

Feeling a curious lack of shyness, he goes ahead and sticks a hand right into her warm, fluffy fur and starts petting almost dutifully.

[boneshaker]

The small voice catches his attention and he turns, looking down in confusion to see a nervous looking little girl.

"Oh," he says. "Uh, hi." He gets down into a crouch, which seems the polite thing, since he's so tall. "Are you all alone here?"

[omnomnom_feels]

It registers in Rashad's mind that it is not correct for him to be feeling anything when he can't remember feeding, much less something so...mild. He is unfamiliar with this, with simply feeling good and happy and friendly rather than being in the throes of extreme joy or amorousness. Just as when he is in such a state of extreme emotion, however, he recognizes the strangeness but has no desire (or ability) to do anything other than go where the mood takes him.

Right now the mood is taking him from room to room in search of fellow living beings. He is happy, but he needs someone with which to share it. When he at last alights on someone who has already found a cozy place to bundle up he does not hesitate or ask permission but sits down with them immediately, more than eager to get straight to cuddling regardless of who (or what) he has found.

[andhiswife]

Handshakes! Greta knows how those work. She shifts her grip on the cookie plate so she can take the offered hand, and says, "Greta. And I did! I found a kitchen!" Her tone is far too triumphant, really, but she's a fine mood and can't be bothered to reign herself in. Instead, she plops down onto the couch next to Iman and brandishes the plate. "Would you like one?"

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie stares up at the stranger in silent awe. He's about as tall as Aziraphale, and he's beautiful, and his voice is so musical and kind. His accent reminds her of home, and the corners of her mouth tick up in a shy but irrepressible smile. She's taken a few steps into the room before she remembers to be cautious, and then she stops, still out of arm's reach.

"I might be," she says. It's hard to be certain; she hasn't been searching for long. "I haven't found anyone I know, yet, but I haven't been looking for too long, either."

[etherthief]

Iman pulls her legs up under her, kneeling next to her new friend, eyeing the cookies excitedly. "Yes," she says, selects one, and pops it in her mouth. Whoa, dream food tastes so real! Is it better when dreamers make it? Does that make it more - legitimate, somehow? Is this actually going into her system in some way or is that all in her head? Fascinating, but let's bench those questions. The lady deserves a compliment for her fine work.

"Delicious," she proclaims after she's finished it off. "Thank you." She smiles, reaches out to take the plate, and sets it gently on the coffee table.

"That's better." She wastes no time putting an arm around Greta's shoulders, leaning in for a good friendly cuddle. "Greta," she says, like reminding herself. "It's really nice to meet you!"

[boneshaker]

He nods. He hasn't met any children in a long time, he realizes - since he was one - but there's something intrinsic in talking to them. They're easier than adults. They aren't all full of puzzles yet. At least, he thinks.

"I don't know anyone either," he says. "But that might be because I think I just got here. And - to be honest I'm not sure where we are. Is that weird?" He hopes it doesn't frighten her. Oh right - introductions, he always forgets. "I'm Castor," he adds hastily.

[andhiswife]

Greta beams at the compliment, flushing happily. "Oh! Thank you--I'm glad you like it!" It's always a pleasure to watch someone else enjoying food that you made.

And… oh. This is, um. Cozy. Greta turns pinker. "It's nice to meet you, too," she says, because she hasn't forgotten her manners. Then, with enthusiasm, "I like your scarf. It's beautiful." Greta is a woman who appreciates scarves. It looks a bit crooked, though, from Iman rolling around on the couch, and Greta reaches up to straighten it automatically. It's so silky, she finds herself fingering the fabric for a few extra moments.

[bluesuit_handy]

Impossibly, laughably, his time is coming soon despite it never having been anywhere near long enough since Daine first told him he was pregnant. Andrew feels (and feels sure he looks) as though he's got a bowling ball in his gut, and when he finds himself somewhere warm surprisingly chilly yet cozy he doesn't feel like wandering long before finding a place to settle in and warm up. He's never liked the cold, and he's not about to start liking it when he's in this state.

Accordingly, he can be found curled up at one end of a sofa near one of the nigh useless fireplaces, swathed in not one but two heavy comforters. It would be nice if James were here, he thinks, pulling the blankets in tighter. He's about as wrapped up as he can get, feet tucked up under him underneath the duvets, and now that he's warm and safe he lets himself drift, relaxing and dozing within the dream in a way that's lately escaped him in the waking world.

[singthesong]

Oh, well! Isn't this lovely?

The Balladeer can be found buried beneath several blankets and pillows on an armchair near one of the fireplaces, curled up with his legs folded in like a bony, over-large pretzel. This is the most comfortable he's ever been, easily. There's still a slight chill, like maybe another person would be nice - there's plenty of room, this is a very big chair - but there isn't anyone else around right now. Maybe someone will happen by.

[wildmage_daine]

Hullo, Johnny! It's good to see him again, especially looking so well. She rolls onto her back and stretches out a forepaw, aiming to boop his nose. This is nice. Especially after last time.

Nose boops are insufficient. Daine wriggles around until the crown of her furry head is pressed against Johnny's leg and stretches luxuriously, her forelegs ending up sprawled over his lap. Much better. Her paws curl and flex in mid-air, kneading at nothing in particular.

[etherthief]

Oh look, she blushes. That's adorable. She's about to say something else when Greta goes straight for the hijab, straightening and then, uh, feeling it up, apparently. Fair enough, it is pretty comfortable.

Iman puts up with this easily for a few moments, smiling, just shy of a smirk. "Thank you," she says. "It's called a hijab, actually." She tilts her head, wondering if she should go for the way-too-easy turnaround compliment ('no u', basically) or wait for a better opportunity. Her gut tells her waiting would be better so she just goes on smiling.