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

[andhiswife]

It's cold. That probably shouldn't surprise her, but she still almost fumbles the little parcel the boy hands her before grabbing it by the less chilly corners of the stuff its wrapped in. No sandwich ever felt like this. Frowning, still not entirely certain this isn't some kind of prank, Greta carefully tears at the foil until it reveals a square-ish slab of... something. It doesn't look anything like a sandwich, but it smells good. That white middle part must be the cream, but it's framed by two thin wafers of something dark and rich-looking.

Well, whatever it is, it smells like food, so she takes a cautious bite off of one corner. Her eyes widen. The wafer is softer than she'd thought it would be, and the cream is colder, but it's good. As good as anything she's ever had from the market. This is chocolate. She almost never gets to have chocolate!

She should probably say something - thank him, certainly, for buying this for her - but she's too busy chewing, silent and rapt.

[singthesong]

"Buying" might be a generous term, depending on what the rate of inflation actually is here.

The boy takes another ice cream sandwich for himself and goes to sit on the cart's step with it. "You like it?" he asks, taking a bite of his own. It's special, sure, but it's not any kind of exceptional luxury in his mind. People have ice cream all the time! Just not him, unless it comes to the park. That's fine, though, because it does sometimes.

[andhiswife]

Greta has her mouth full when he speaks, so she gives him a vigorous, wide-eyed nod, then swallows. "Yes! It's very good." It might be the best thing she's ever had. She takes another bite, this one a bit more considering than the first few, paying closer attention to the flavors on her tongue. "Thank you," she adds.

Feeling bolstered by the ice cream and by the boy's kindness, she plunks herself down on the ground by his feet, leaning against his leg. This boy's all right.

[singthesong]

"You're welcome!" He smiles a little, pleased to have made a friend. It's weird, he doesn't think he actually knows any of the other kids here. "Don't eat it too fast, or you'll get a brainfreeze."