The Big Applesauce Moderators (
applesaucemod) wrote in
applesaucedream2015-05-02 02:31 pm
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Entry tags:
- character: asmodia antarion,
- character: daine sarrasri,
- character: eliot waugh,
- character: greta baker,
- character: iman asadi,
- character: james t. kirk,
- character: johnny truant,
- character: lucifer,
- character: peeta mellark,
- character: rashad durant,
- character: the balladeer,
- dropped: calliope,
- dropped: ianto jones,
- dropped: jay merrick,
- dropped: mako mori,
- dropped: nicholas rush,
- dropped: the doctor (12),
- dropped: the tardis,
- dropped: tim wright,
- dropped: zagreus,
- party post,
- retired: aziraphale,
- retired: bee,
- retired: melanie,
- retired: peter vincent,
- retired: yuri kostoglodov
This is My Island in the Sun [Open to All]
The Rift wouldn't say it's sorry for the fit it threw the other day, because the Rift never needs to apologize. It is (mostly) perfect, and all of its decisions are well reasoned and just. Obviously. But perhaps it has fallen into a bit of a post-tantrum sulk, because this dream is milder than one might expect. In fact, it's downright nice.
The dreamers will find themselves in an archipelago of small islands - most only a few acres in size - connected by narrow strips of sand or pebbles. The surrounding waters are calm. Little waves lap against the shorelines, and no rising tide will cut the islands off from one another. The islands themselves seem to have been lifted from every climate zone on Earth and several from beyond. Some are tropical, some colder and home to hardy conifers, some mossy and boulder-strewn, some covered in multicolored sand and odd, coral-like trees.
Most of the islands boast some kind of manmade or otherwise non-native structure, be it as small as a bench or as large as a pavilion, though there are no houses or shops to be seen. It's more like parkland, just civilized enough for a nice picnic. Some of the islands even have little grills, and a sufficiently motivated dreamer might be able to rustle up some hot dog or burger fixings if they poke around a bit.
And they'll have an extra pair of eyes to help with their searching, because their beloved dæmons have returned… again. Or perhaps they're being introduced for the first time. Regardless, it's the bi-annual dæmon dream party!
The dreamers will find themselves in an archipelago of small islands - most only a few acres in size - connected by narrow strips of sand or pebbles. The surrounding waters are calm. Little waves lap against the shorelines, and no rising tide will cut the islands off from one another. The islands themselves seem to have been lifted from every climate zone on Earth and several from beyond. Some are tropical, some colder and home to hardy conifers, some mossy and boulder-strewn, some covered in multicolored sand and odd, coral-like trees.
Most of the islands boast some kind of manmade or otherwise non-native structure, be it as small as a bench or as large as a pavilion, though there are no houses or shops to be seen. It's more like parkland, just civilized enough for a nice picnic. Some of the islands even have little grills, and a sufficiently motivated dreamer might be able to rustle up some hot dog or burger fixings if they poke around a bit.
And they'll have an extra pair of eyes to help with their searching, because their beloved dæmons have returned… again. Or perhaps they're being introduced for the first time. Regardless, it's the bi-annual dæmon dream party!
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He staggers back, nearly crashing into the fucking dog in a wildly uncoordinated movement, one hand clapped over his shoulder and his breathing heavy is it the same shoulder Fring seized and dug his fingers beneath and does that entirely matter and his free hand stabs a furious, trembling finger in Yuri's direction.
"I've never seen you before in my life," he spits. "You or anyone like you. And if I'm fucking lucky - " He twists sharply about and moves to get away as quickly as fucking possible, steeled and resolute, "it'll stay that way."
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She rises just enough to skitter around Rush and back to Yuri, going the long way around so she won't brush past Arista. "It was just a question," she whines.
Yuri's face feels hot and his limbs are trembling, and he can't decide if he's relieved by the vehemence of this guy's apparently principle against killing kids, at least, or if he's still outraged that the man won't just tell him who's dead and why and how and that he's acting like Yuri's somehow the asshole for wanting to know when he'd already said he was missing someone he cared about. "You could have just said that," he says.
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The treeline is distant but rapidly approaching the quicker he nears it, and with any hope it will serve as the conversational escape route he has begun to desperately seek.
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But this man has killed someone, Yuri's pretty sure of that. He can't just...not look into it. Huffing in frustration and fully aware he's going after someone who doesn't want him there and seems unbalanced to boot, he and Penza go jogging after Rush, the headstart the scientist gained while Yuri stood in indecision enough to have got him to the treeline.
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"Fuck off," he says bluntly, the bite of the words flaring behind the grind of teeth.
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"Can you just tell me who died?" he pleads. "I mean, do you know who it was?"
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He folds his arms, a taut, locking snap of action. "I believe I'm under no obligation to tell you anything."
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"Please," says Penza simply, head low and ears back in supplication.
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"It wasn't a good person, if you're so upset about it," Arista breaks in with a frustrated flick of her tail, ignoring her counterpart's furious, pointed look. "It was deserved. Don't give me that," she snaps at the man beside her without lifting her gaze or her tone. "We have to tell him something, obviously, or we'll never fucking hear the end of it."
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"In a manner of speaking," says Arista in the same moment.
They look at each other.
"We disagreed," he clarifies flatly, eyes narrowing at the cat. "On several key points."
Arista continues to look at him.
With a resigned huff, he rolls one wrist and holds it up for inspection, the jagged scar running its way unevenly 'round the thin circumference. He lifts his eyebrows incrementally in unspoken challenge of that threat assessment.
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Just needed to know the whole story.
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