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

[imashinyboy]

There's a boy crouched up in the tree several branches above Daine, looking like a small and strangely rock'n'roll monkey-- and indeed, he's nearly as ease in the tree as a monkey might be, bare toes curling to cling to the bark. He's heard her talking to the squirrels, and is frozen listening to her progress, caught between delight and curiosity and apprehension. He's never met a kid before, not a human kid, and he doesn't know what this one's doing here, but he knows he wants to meet it. Or her. Or him. Or whatever. He's not actually entirely sure how you tell with human people; an upbringing whose only human contact has been with glam rockers hasn't given him a very clear idea in that regard.

A leap and a scurry, and a few moments later, a head swings down through the foliage to peer at Daine, wild sandy mullet and eyes that seem to take up a good half his face, and a twitching smile at the corner of his mouth, attached to the body of a six year old Vince Noir, hanging from his knees from a branch. He looks nearly painfully skinny, and his t-shirt has his own name in glittering pink rhinestones across his chest.

'Alright?' he offers hopefully. 'Who're you?'

Despite the improbability of it, his accent is still thoroughly Cockney urchin.

The squirrels in the branches chitter their laughter, wanting to know why she's got all that stuff around her legs, she can't hardly climb in it! and Vince waves a hand at the nearest of them. 'It's clothes, people wear them, you know that.'

[wildmage_daine]

Daine starts in surprise as a... boy?... swings into view. It's a little hard to tell, what with him being upside down and wearing such odd things, but he's not mired in skirts like she is, so 'boy' is her best guess. And she's quick enough to forget that question when he talks to the squirrels just as calmly as she does, as if he expects them to understand him. And they do.

"Who are you?" she blurts before remembering she didn't introduce herself. "I'm Daine. Are you really talking to the squirrels?"

[imashinyboy]

Vince feels a momentary quiver of nerves when she startles and stares at him in alarm. He doesn't want to frighten the first kid he's ever met. He recovers quickly, though, swinging himself back and forth a little on his branch by squeezing his knees around it, his shirt crumpling down to bare his skinny belly. Hanging upside-down's fun, Vince likes the way it makes his head spin afterwards.

'I'm Vince!' he says cheerily. That's kind of a weird question, though, and he wrinkles his nose a little. ''Course I am. They're a little silly, but I like that.' Vince is a little silly himself, or so he's told by some of his friends.

'They're right, though; that's a daft thing to wear for climbing trees.'

[wildmage_daine]

This is a shock to her, though Vince seems at ease. She braces one hand against the tree trunk and grips a branch with the other, steadying herself. "I've just never met anyone else who could," she admits. "If I told folk in the village that I could really talk to their creatures, they'd think I was mad. They think I've a knack, is all."

She glances down at her skirts with a sigh, nose wrinkling in weary frustration. "Girls aren't allowed to wear breeches, elsewise I'd dress more sensible," she informs both him and the squirrels.

[imashinyboy]

That makes Vince frown in confusion. 'Other people can't?' He's never had cause to think that being able to talk to animals might be something unusual. Bryan can, and when his bandmates come 'round, they're all busy talking band stuff and don't bother with the animals, so Vince always just assumed they could too.

Good to know that she's a girl, though, and Vince nods judiciously, even though the idea that girls aren't allowed to wear breeches doesn't make much sense. He curls up to grab onto the branch with his hands as well, flipping backwards to drop down to the branch below him, landing with his knees bent and a steadying hand in front of him. With his other hand, he reaches out to pluck at the fabric of her skirt curiously. It's rough, heavy fabric of some sort he's never encountered before. 'Why can't girls wear breeches? That's stupid.'

[wildmage_daine]

Daine shakes her head. "Never met anyone else who could. Not in Snowsdale, anyhow." What sort of place does Vince come from, if everyone can talk to the People? She's never seen clothes like he's wearing, and there are jewels sewn into his shirt. She might think him some sort of prince if he wasn't up a tree and acting silly.

She frowns a little when he starts to poke at her skirt, and smoothes a palm over the fabric self-consciously. "I don't know," she says, frown turning into a pout of general dissatisfaction. "The Lioness gets to wear them, but she's a Lady Knight. Ma said I wasn't allowed 'less I was trying for knighthood, and then she said 'don't you dare.'" Daine wrinkles her nose. Truth be told, she doesn't want to be a knight. She just wants to wear breeches. Seems like they'd make life easier.