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]

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?

[postictal]

Tim wonders if there are any grown-ups around to tell them how much and how many, but there's no one here. It's just sitting there; no one can object if they take from something just sitting there.

He reaches over to slide the plastic cover open, breathing in the rush of cool, slightly metallic air.

"It's a freezer," he explains. "I think? It's how they keep it cold." Mom had a fridge sorta like that, when he lived at home. The freezer was at the top, and he could never reach it. But now he can bend to scoop one of the brightly colored packages from the inside, relishing in the crinkle of shiny packaging and the outside dusting of ice crystals, and holds it out to her with a slightly shy shrug. "See?"

[wildmage_daine]

"Like magic," Daine breathes, reaching out to take the offered parcel. It's freezing cold, and she shifts it from one hand to the other as she looks it over. There's something hard and unyielding beneath the thin outer wrapping, but she can't imagine what. She raises the whole thing up to her face and gives it a cautious sniff. It doesn't smell like much of anything besides ice, so she can't get a good sense of what's inside. It's hard to believe it's even food - if it was ever supposed to be. Maybe she shouldn't've assumed, just because it's got 'cream' in the name.

"How does it work?" she asks, frowning down at it.

[postictal]

His nose wrinkles a bit - not magic, he's pretty sure. He doesn't know what it is, maybe ee-lek-tri-sitee like they dismissed he'd need (they thought he couldn't hear but he could, he knows how to listen under the cracks of the doors and through keyholes), but he's never gotten to see one up-close like this before.

He retrieves his own package and slides the door carefully shut again - it's good to be polite, he knows, especially to grown-ups even if there aren't any around - and watches Daine studying hers like she doesn't know what to do with it. Tim cocks his head for a minute. The wrappers can be hard sometimes, like wrappers for anything can be. Sometimes they get too slippery for your fingers. This one's chilled from the freezer and so his fingers stick to it a bit, but finally he demonstrates by ripping open his own packaging.

"Like that." There's a cool slab of chocolate on a stick inside, and he can feel the corners of his mouth twitching. Almost like a smile. "Ice cream."

[wildmage_daine]

Daine watches what he does and mimics it, carefully tearing at the wrapper surrounding her 'ice cream' and holding the thing inside by the flattened stick that pokes out of one end. She's not quite sure what to do with the wrapper itself, so she folds it as neatly as she can with just one hand and tucks it into her pocket. Then she gives the ice cream a cautious sniff. It still smells strongly of the cold interior of the 'freezer,' but there's another scent there, too, sharp and sweet. Daine raises her eyebrows, then pokes out her tongue to taste it.

Goddess. It's like nothing she's ever tasted before. Her eyes widen. "This is wondrous," she says.

[postictal]

He watches her, bemused, as she folds up the wrapper real careful, like she's afraid of crumpling it up. But when she tastes it he can't help it, he smiles, really smiles, and he can't remember the last time he did that and there's a lighter twinge in his chest that he can't put a name to. Like a bit of weight over him is gone, kind of.

"Never had ice cream before?" he asks, because as far as he's concerned that's more than possible. He can barely remember the taste himself.

[wildmage_daine]

She shakes her head slowly, her rapt gaze still fixed on the ice cream. "I'd never even heard of it before. We've nothing like this at home."

She gives it a less tentative lick - that seems to be the right thing to do, at least so far - and then squeaks in surprise when the dark outer layer turns out to be thin and brittle, like a shell. It cracks, to her dismay: she's broken it. She didn't even know you could break food. But wait, there's something else inside, something white and... creamy. Is that the cream part? Maybe this is supposed to happen.

"Is it always like this?" she asks, sheepishly glancing up at Tim. "I feel like I wrecked it."

[postictal]

"It's really good," he says, completely unnecessarily. He takes his own reverent lick, savoring the cool, rich dark. He'd forgotten how good chocolate could taste. He'd forgotten how good anything besides the same old boring hospital food could taste.

Daine really hasn't had ice cream before, has she? That's more than a little bit sad to him, but he nods. "It's supposed to," he assures her. "The outside's chocolate, see? And the ice cream's in the middle."

[wildmage_daine]

"Chocolate," she repeats with mystified reverence. That's a new one, but she likes it. She bites off the corner she'd crumpled, fascinated by the mix of cold, smooth ice cream and sweet-tart little shards of chocolate softening on her tongue. It's more than a little bit messy - the bite she took caused more of the chocolate to splinter, and ice cream is starting to leak through the cracks - but it's the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. She lets out a delighted chuckle as she tries to catch the falling drops of ice cream before they reach her hand - inevitably just making the mess worse.

[postictal]

She's never had chocolate either? Maybe Tim never got it very often but at least Mom used to bring him some, back before she stopped visiting him.

He almost laughs with her when she starts making a mess - the hot sun's starting to drip his too, sticky trails of cool, melting chocolate running over his fingers, but that doesn't matter so much.

"It's s'posed to get messy," he says, even if he's not really sure if it's supposed to, but there's no one here to say it isn't. "It's the best that way."