ACT NOW! [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Has this ever happened to you?

All you're trying to do is have an uneventful night's sleep, but you find yourself in a sprawling labyrinth of interconnected rooms, each one a transplant from a bland, suburban home. You search and search for an exit, but just can't seem to find one! And even if you could - where did you park your car?

Oh, no! You're trapped in another dream event!

No matter what you do, everything just seems to turn out wrong. Open a cabinet - tupperware avalanche! Attempt to pour yourself a drink - disaster! No bowl of cheetos is safe from your sudden, embarrassing clumsiness! It's as if you can't do any simple task without it going horribly awry! What a mess!

That's right, dreamers: you're stuck in the desaturated Before Times of every terrible infomercial you've ever seen, and life is a sisyphean struggle.



[OOC: Standard dream party rules apply: all are welcome regardless of their membership in the game, and characters can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Backtag forever.]

Comments

[lottawork]

"Perfect," growls Rush, eying the innumerable amount of wires draped over him that have left him resembling some sort of absurd, disgruntled Yuletide lawn decoration. Every furious movement has simply resulted in further entanglement, and he would very much prefer freedom of movement. An experimental prodding of one of the denser knots of cords rewards Rush with a rectangular lump, which he extracts from the mess with considerably more success than he has had with any part of his own fucking body thus far.

"If you wanted a fuckin' charger, I believe that's statistically plausible." He gestures dryly at the snarled disarray that appears to be liberally festooning every inch of him. The phone he holds appears to be rather spectacularly cracked across its front but is still working if the flickering red bar is any indication, and he shifts carefully to hand it over.

[interndana]

"Thank you." Dana takes the phone and only gets the slightest static shock from it, which given the rest of the circumstances she'll take as a win. It's a wonder the screen still works, though the phone is emitting a pained discordant wailing; Dana hopes she doesn't have to get it repaired, because who knows how some technician would react to the phone's...peculiarities. She suspects if she asked anyone at Romac they'd take it away from her, and Dana's not about to let that happen.

She looks up, remembering that there is a man tangled in electrical cords in front of her, and that ignoring him in favor of reuniting with her phone might come off as rude. "So uh, how did you even end up like this?" she asks, beginning to pick carefully at the edges of the tangle. She's keeping her eyes peeled for anything white and Apple-producty.

[lottawork]

That phone is assuredly not behaving in the typical order - Rush is quite certain that high-pitched shrieking falls rather beyond the average cellular device's technical normalities.

"Believe me, it was not my intention," he grunts, yanking forcefully at one of the heavier cables that has now wound its way determinedly around one arm and snaked across one hip. "I was merely attempting to locate any potentially useful technology. And then -" He waves an exasperated hand at the mess neatly interwoven around him, including a number of wires that appear to have successfully threaded down the back of his shirt to add a new level of insult to the fucking indignity. "I confess I am not entirely clear on the specifics of how, exactly, this level of seamless technological assimilation is possible."

[interndana]

The phone is just unhappy at being dropped so much, although if it would behave itself it wouldn't be in this situation. It ought to be on a leash, but, leashes for phones, that's preposterous.

Dana is becoming more and more perturbed by the minute. She can see how an attempt to untangle a large snarl might lead to getting tangled oneself, especially if one were using their arm as storage, but this is just...

"Oh, this is a dream, isn't it," she says, feeling a bit foolish for taking so long to realize. "This is all very improbable, and I did wonder about the house being so strange, but then I've been in stranger houses before the Rift, so...hmm." She walks around him, taking in the mass of cables, which cannot possibly all be originating from that one laptop. "This is probably some sort of challenge to solve, I mean unless the dream's intention is to turn us all into cyborgs. What if, when we figure out how to deal with this mess, the house stops being such a maze and we can leave?"

That sounds like the sort of intrusive lab-rat type shenanigans Rift dreams get up to, right?

[lottawork]

Rush makes another quietly disgusted sound - a dream, fucking naturally, if he had only stopped to examine the discrepancies in his incoherent personal timeline he may well have sorted that out on his own - but the relief of knowing with a certain degree of surety that this experience is not by any means permanent is minimal. This dream has been appropriately aggravating, and choosing to ensnare him in a dense web of cabling was likely a cruel deliberate choice on its part, but it has not thus far proved to be as potent as any of his standard array of nightmares.

"'Strange' apart from the overly processed American suburbia setting?" he answers dryly. "I doubt that this would even be possible in reality, given that technology is something of a specialty of mine." Miraculously, he manages to free his left arm and immediately holds it aloft, far from the rest of the disordered jumble swarmed over and around him. "If it wanted a 'challenge' it could have picked something far less fucking grating."