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

[rae_of_sun]

Rae maintains a dubious scowl until the wings appear, and then - she can't help it - she giggles, more because he's so embarrassed than because the wings themselves are funny. She shouldn't laugh at just the wings, even if they are small and dumb-looking. Being a partblood's no joke.

But hey, he's the one who showed her his little stubby baby wings. It's not like it's a secret. "What kind of demon has wings like that?" she asks, more curious than mocking.

[bibliophale]

Well, it's only fair that they make her laugh, they are ridiculous. And at least she's not scowling anymore! He puts them away quickly, but then looks up, aghast, at her question.

"Demon?" he sputters. She's just a child, he reminds himself, doesn't know him or what she's saying, and demons do seem to be a commonality in her world. Still, it's hard not to get ruffled. "I'm not a demon," he says, more calmly, only a little scolding. "I told you. I'm an angel."