applesaucemod: (Default)
The Big Applesauce Moderators ([personal profile] applesaucemod) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2015-05-31 11:47 am

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

 photo dream banner 05 2015_zps6lx9lelt.jpg


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.]
postictal: (function like a normal human being)

[personal profile] postictal 2015-06-06 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
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."