Here You Are, Stick Figure and a Busted Grin [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The first thing that the dreamers of Manhattan might notice is that the ground is a good deal closer than it normally is. The second thing they might notice is that their surroundings are larger than they might expect. The playground looks almost daunting. Of course, there are other ways for the dreamers to occupy themselves on this hot summer day: a charming fountain bubbles away a little distance from the playground. There's an ice cream stand with treats free for the taking. Beyond the paved area is a meadow, covered in wildflowers and dominated by a huge, sprawling tree, perfect for climbing.

It's all prime entertainment for children. So really, it's just as well that 'children' is what the dreamers will find themselves to be - once more, for those who had childhoods, or for the first time, for those who didn't.

Perhaps you'll remember everything: the Rift, Manhattan, the friends (and enemies) you've made since your arrival. Or perhaps you'll only remember who you were when you were young, and find this an opportunity to forge new friendships - or new (and probably pettier) animosities. Run around, get dirty, have a good time. It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

[ooc: usual dream party rules apply. All are welcome, whether they've been apped to the game or not. Characters will remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Mental and emotional regression is optional, but physical regression is mandatory: your character is in the body of a little kid - human, or human-ish - regardless of who or what they are in the waking world.]

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

Well, this is odd. He's not acting like any boy she's ever met before - more like a dog someone's been kicking. Her expression softens, and she drops into a slow, careful crouch and wraps her arms around her knees, mirroring how he's holding himself. "Are you hiding?" she asks quietly.

[postictal]

"N-no," he says again, hating the uncertainty in his voice. He doesn't like looking at her in the eyes but he needs to be sure she's looking at him. Him, and not at the distant points over his shoulder. The man's behind him. He knows it is. It always is.

"What makes you think I'm hiding?" he asks tersely, his hands fisting into the fabric of his jeans.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine shrugs, a little twitch of her shoulders. "You look like you're hiding." Hiding, and scared of being found. "No one sent me to fetch you," she adds, in case that's part of what's troubling him. No one in the village asks her for anything, unless it's to do with their animals. "I'm Daine."

[postictal]

"I'm not scared of you," he says with an abrupt defensive bite that he wishes he could claw back the minute he says it. It might make her mad and scare her off, and that's good, but what if she asks what he is scared of? No one believes him when he tells the truth, they just say he's things like dee-loo-shun-all (he looked that one up in the dictionary when he still lived at home, mom on the phone and the doctor's voice a whispered fuzz of static in counterpoint to the humming in the corners of his mind) and he doesn't want to be stared at anymore.

"Tim," he whispers, immediately withdrawing. Daine's a pretty funny name, but he doesn't feel like laughing. He never does.

[wildmage_daine]

Now he sounds more like a normal boy, and Daine narrows her eyes in disapproval. Since she's figured out he's hiding, though, he'd have to do a bit worse than that to make her leave. If he's not from Snowsdale, that means she's not going against any of the villagers by talking to him. And if he's not from Snowsdale, he's got no reason to dislike her except whatever reasons she gives him now, by prying and such.

"Hullo, Tim," she says politely as she debates just how much prying she ought to do. It's surely none of her business what he's hiding from, but she doesn't like to see anyone looking so run down and scared.

"Is it your Da?" she finally asks. It's not unheard of for folk to beat their children. Ma and Grandda would never; she's lucky that way.

[postictal]

"My da?" he repeats dubiously. He doesn't really know what she means until oh. Oh. She thinks maybe he's scared of a grown-up, but the tall man's not a grown-up. It's not anything. That's what's so wrong about it.

It's easier to lie (liar) but he doesn't know what to say so he just shakes his head and draws deeper into himself. "Nno. I don't have one."

[wildmage_daine]

"Me, neither." It's not the sort of thing she'd admit to a stranger, but it tumbles out of her when she realizes they're the same, that way. "Well. Not one I've met. He was just passing through, Ma said." That's too much, and she blushes unhappily. It's worse to have a Da who's just gone; if he was dead, at least no one would look down on her or Ma for him not being around.

[postictal]

"I dunno if I ever had one," he admits. "Mom never said. Never really around to say."

He looks away. Daine probably doesn't care. Why should she? He's just some freak under a tree, hiding from dee-loo-shuns and slivers of nightmares. She shouldn't care. Maybe she really, really shouldn't, in case the tall man gets mad. He doesn't like it when it gets mad - it tells him to do things like hurt people, and Daine's being nice and he doesn't wanna hurt her too.

[wildmage_daine]

No Da, and not much of a Ma, either. That's a pity. Maybe he's staying with distant relations who aren't good to him, or maybe he's just on his own and nervous of everyone. Either way, he's probably short on kindness, and Daine knows just how valuable that can be.

"Are you hungry?" she asks. He probably is, if he's not being looked after as he should be. "Maybe we can find something to eat." She has a little coin if need be; elsewise she could just take him back to the farm. She's pretty sure it's not too far off.

[postictal]

His head whips around back to look at her, shoulders creeping up defensively. She's still here. Why's she still here? Kids don't play with freaks, that's the second thing he learned, right after the tall man.

"Um," he says. He doesn't know how to tell her to just go away. He doesn't want her to, but it'd be safer, wouldn't it? "I - guess."

A small sliver of terror slips through him and he stares at her with a sudden unease.

"Is there anything," he begins slowly, but shrinks when he thinks about it and knows he just sounds stupid, or dumb, or crazy. That's what everyone else says. But he has to ask. "Is there anything - behind me?"

[wildmage_daine]

"Besides the tree?" It's an odd sort of question, but there's no reason not to answer honestly. Maybe he's like her, hearing things other folk can't. She gets to her feet and takes a good look. "There's a squirrel on one of the branches a ways out," she says, pointing. "And there are blackbirds out in the meadow." She shrugs. "That's all I can see, though." There's a slight emphasis on 'I,' as if to say she's not promising she can see everything. She could be missing all sorts of things, compared to someone who has the Gift.

She chews her lip a moment, then offers him a hand up. "It's safe. The animals'd fuss, if it weren't, or they'd go all quiet."

[postictal]

"Sometimes there's things you can't see," he says quietly. "Like in the corners of your eyes, an' - "

He bites his lip and falls silent. He's just gonna scare her off. She'll think he's weird, if she doesn't already. So he just grabs the trunk for support and pushes himself to his feet.

"Never mind," he mumbles, staring fixedly at his feet.

[wildmage_daine]

She pulls her hand back, not especially stung that he didn't take it. Boys are weird. Instead, she asks, "D'you have the Gift? I don't, but Ma keeps testing me." She wrinkles her nose in general displeasure. It seems fair foolish to keep testing her, as if it might just show up overnight. She's good with animals, but that's all.

She takes a few steps, then pauses, waiting for him to follow. "Sometimes folk with the Gift can see things like that, I think," she adds.

[postictal]

"...gift?" he repeats, and he feels like he's moving slowly compared to her. Like she sounds way, way smart about whatever this is, and he's just some dumb kid.

Seeing the tall man is a gift? Well, he didn't ask for it, and he wishes gifts like that came with receipts, if there are any.

"It's not a gift," he says disgustedly. "I hate the tall man. He says stuff, like burn that and do this, and I don't want to, not ever."

His voice verges on a whine but it almost breaks too, and he pulls back. He hates the tremble. He hates how he's scared all the time, scared of himself.

Yeah. Some gift.

[wildmage_daine]

... What? Daine blinks, startled by the outburst and confused by what he's saying. "The tall man?" she repeats. He can't mean one of the gods, can he?

"I'm not... the Gift's magic," she explains haltingly. "It lets you do things like--like call fire, or light. Or scry." Or any other number of things she can't do no matter how many times Ma asks her to try. "Who's the tall man?"

[postictal]

He stares at her with mingled horror, alarm, confusion. Magic's not real, he knows that. But the tall man's not magic, it's something else. Something worse. And now he's messed it up.

He always messes things up. The tall man's gonna get really mad, really mad, and he'll make Tim's head hurt and he'll probably burn something, and someone will end up impaled somewhere like a broken puppet with the organs wet and dangling out and it'll be all his fault.

"He's nobody," he says a little too quickly. He used to lie so well to the doctors but now he's alert and terrified, and he doesn't know what to say. "Forget it. Forget I said it!"

Please forget. He doesn't wanna make the tall man mad.

[wildmage_daine]

"All right," Daine lifts her hands peaceably. Maybe the tall man is a god, and he doesn't want Tim talking about him. That's not so hard to imagine. "I won't tell."

She hesitates, then resumes walking towards the sounds of other children. She's not overeager to be near other two-leggers, but there's a good chance any food to be had will be over there.

"I've a knack with animals," she offers, a bit hesitantly. Maybe he'll look less upset if he knows she's not normal, either. She lowers her voice before adding, "They talk to me, sometimes."

[postictal]

Okay. It's - it's okay. She doesn't want to talk about it, and that's good, and he'll follow her and everything will be fine.

Please don't be mad, he begs, silent and desperate. Please. Please please please. Daine's not a friend exactly, he doesn't know her, but she's being nice and talking to him and that's more than he usually gets. Just let him hold onto something normal, just once, even if it's only for a little while.

"Really?" He wonders if she's lying too, but it doesn't sound like a lie. He knows how lies sound. But he has a silent thing without a face that's followed him all his life, so maybe talking to animals isn't so weird. "That sounds nice," he says wistfully. Animals seem nicer about being a freak than people are. They don't whisper or taunt.

[wildmage_daine]

She's half expecting a jeer, or at least more open disbelief. There's nothing shameful about having a knack with animals, but plenty of folk would think her mad for claiming they talk to her. But Tim just takes her at her word - he even sounds a little jealous - and Daine smiles.

"It is." Brightening further, she adds, "Once we find some food, if you want, I can introduce you to someone." He doesn't seem like the sort who'd torment a creature for fun, but by the time they've found something to eat, she'll have a clearer idea of whether he's trustworthy. And most animals are happy to take a little time out of their day to say hello if you've food to offer them. Then you're not just wasting their time for something as silly as conversation.

[postictal]

She can introduce him? He doesn't quite brighten at that, but the weight in the slump of his shoulders eases a little, and he doesn't walk with as heavy a step.

"That'd be okay, I guess," he says. But only a little. Can't let anyone get close, not ever. That's the third rule. He learned it straightaway, right after the second rule - the rule that made it easy, the rule that says he's broken and wrong and that's because he's meant to be.

[wildmage_daine]

Most of the children seem to be clustered around a great wooden fort. It's an odd structure, not seeming to serve any purpose but play, and she gives the area a wide berth instinctively. There are no animals down there, and she doesn't expect the other children to want anything to do with her.

Besides, Tim still looks like he'd rather dart into a hole than be walking out in the open. Best keep him away from the fuss, too.

She nods towards a promising-looking cart. It's not manned so far as she can see, but it looks like the sort of cart someone might sell sweets from at the market. "That might have something," she says, picking up her pace a little. The sooner they get some food, the sooner they can get back out where it's quieter.

As she steps up to the cart, though, her brow furrows. It's not made of wood, but some other material she doesn't even have a name for, and it's decorated with strangely sharp images she doesn't recognize. "What is that?" she murmurs, her steps slowing dramatically.

[postictal]

He's glad Daine doesn't go near the playground, but he can't stop looking about in nervous agitation, waiting for the dark smear in the corners of his vision. But it's not there. There's nothing, just the too-bright, cheery sun warming the structure's dark wood.

Tim really does brighten in earnest when he recognizes the stand, but it looks like it's Daine's turn to be confused. He's not sure where she comes from - he might be weird and lonely, but at least he knows what an ice cream stand is, even if he can't remember being around one much.

"Never seen an ice cream stand?" he asks in genuine puzzlement.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine shakes her head and darts an anxious glance Tim's way. There are plenty of ways for folk to shame her - no Da, and too good with animals, and looking so different from anyone else in the village - but there was no way for her to guess this might happen. He's talking as if everyone ought to know what ice cream is. Maybe everyone does if they live in larger cities, or if they're well-traveled, but Daine's neither of those things.

"No," she admits. "Not like that." Which is a bit of a fib, because she's never seen any kind of ice cream stand, and she's never even heard of ice cream. She doesn't want to admit that much, though. It would just make her sound even more a bumpkin than she probably does already.

[postictal]

She sounds awfully unsure about it, but Tim is too, a little bit. He knows what an ice cream stand is and once his mom bought him some, but that's so, so far back. It was before the hospital and the headaches, and he barely remembers the taste.

"That's okay," he says, and it sounds a little strange coming out so decisive, but it is, isn't it? The lack of her original confidence is helping a bit to augment his own. They can be new and weird at this together, that's not so odd. "I haven't had ice cream in a real long time."

[wildmage_daine]

He's trying to make her feel better, and that's rare enough from someone her own age that Daine can't help smiling, small and grateful. Then, feeling a bit bolder, she approaches the cart and peers inside.

The top is made of something like glass, though it's smoother and more clear than any she's ever seen. Inside, there are lots of brightly-wrapped little parcels. She doesn't recognize anything; it's little more than a dizzying array of colors to her eyes. Her brow furrows when she sees something she does recognize: frost. It's crystallized on the inside of the cart. "It's cold," she says in naked disbelief. But it's summer! How can anything be frosted over in this weather?