The Big Applesauce Moderators (
applesaucemod) wrote in
applesaucedream2015-05-31 11:47 am
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Entry tags:
- character: asmodia antarion,
- character: daine sarrasri,
- character: gabriel,
- character: greta baker,
- character: iman asadi,
- character: johnny truant,
- character: lucifer,
- character: rashad durant,
- character: spike,
- character: sunshine,
- character: the balladeer,
- dropped: mako mori,
- dropped: nicholas rush,
- dropped: seth,
- dropped: tim wright,
- party post,
- retired: aziraphale,
- retired: bee,
- retired: crowley,
- retired: melanie,
- retired: peter vincent,
- retired: yuri kostoglodov
Here You Are, Stick Figure and a Busted Grin [Open to All]

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.
[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.]
tw lots of child abuse references :|
At least in the one that was a high school dance he had his own buddy. He has no desire to be so small and goddamn helpless again. He rubs at the back of his neck as he moves through the playground, giving the other kids a wide berth. Some of them he recognizes, but nobody seems to remember, or they're just way too into the spirit of things.
It's weird, not feeling the scar on the back of his neck, though the half-moons are there of course, as are the burns on his arms. How old is he even? Eleven? Twelve? His tongue flits over the tooth that's usually broken and it's so fucking weird to feel it intact. That narrows it down. Not twelve.
This is horrible and he hates it. Is this supposed to be fun? Why does he always have a shit time in the 'fun' dreams?
He lifts his head a little as he circles around a giant, somewhat terrifying tree, and startles when he spots someone, freezing when he recognizes him. Unmistakable features, even at this apparent age.
"Gabe?" He smiles weakly, allowing himself some measure of relief as he approaches the angel. "Fuck, am I glad to see you."
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He tilts his head to the side, a birdlike interrogative. "You know me."
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"Goddammit," he mutters, turning away, his shoulders slumping. "I was really hoping you'd..." He shakes his head, a hand closing over his face. He wishes he could just wake up.
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Rather than step forward, he simply jumps forward in space so that he's close enough to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. "God cares for you, Johnny, as he does all things."
He glances down and catches sight of the scars on Johnny's arms, and he steps around so that he can view them better. It must be true that they are easily injured creatures, he can see the proof here, though he's not sure exactly what the lines represent. His expression changes from one of curiosity to mild concern. "Do they hurt you? I can take them away."
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Okay, get it together. He rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to settle. It's pretty difficult. How come he can remember this shit if Gabe can't?
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"I know myself," he argues, more to himself than as a rebuttal. There is little else that he knows as well. Surely Johnny can see that.
He lifts his head to look at Johnny again, openly curious as he catalogs for himself the seemingly endless variety of facial expression flitting across the boy's face. Most of what he's saying doesn't make a lot of sense, but that last part is the most intriguing. "What do you mean by 'dream'?"
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He looks down at the ground, unable to keep up direct contact. It's weirdly uncomfortable. He doesn't like this.
"We're dreaming now. This isn't real." He's not sure what else to say. "Normally we're both older. You're much older. You... I mean... we know each other."
Yeah, he covered that. But he's not ready to explain to what is apparently a pure-as-snow angel that he loves this pathetic little mortal with scars on his arms. This is the Gabe he kind of expects, who doesn't see an equal in front of him, but a subject, something lesser and inferior. This is almost, Johnny thinks bitterly, what he wants.
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"My brother, Samael, he met someone that belongs to his future. But he said I would know-" And he doesn't know, not at all. But Johnny does. He wonders if it can work that way round as well but quickly dismisses the idea. He may know Johnny in the future, but Johnny doesn't belong to him in the way he was hoping he might.
Gabriel takes a step in and lifts his hand to Johnny's face. When he twitches away from the touch, he tilts his head a fraction and pushes some of Johnny's hair away from his face rather than cup his cheek. "There's no need to be afraid." He smiles cautiously, hopefully. "How do you know me?"
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"I don't not belong to your future," he says, not wholly comfortable with that phrasing (and who is Samael, anyway? is that who he's afraid it is?), but not wholly uncomfortable with it either. "You're in love with me, if that helps."
It makes his stomach flip to acknowledge it. Well, that doesn't have to be on the table. If there's any silver lining to meet this weird version of Gabe it's that he won't notice, maybe won't even care, how fucked up he is.
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He switches positions so that he's sitting on top of the nearest branch and smiles back down at Johnny. "If you know me, you must know that I am an angel of the Lord." To Gabriel, that means that he is an extension of his Father's will. "Under God's Grace, all things are loved." Surely these things are known. What silly little things these creatures are.
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"Yeah, decidedly not like that," he says. "Different kind of love. The weird, gay kind."
He passes a hand over his face. This version of Gabe is pretty insufferable. "Nevermind," he grunts. "I don't think you can understand it right now."
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"I've been learning so much. Samael has shown me, and with God's Grace I may one day teach another." There's a sense of pride to that statement, but also affection. He's looking forward to helping another like himself and watching his family grow. Being with his family is above all Gabriel's favorite thing, and the idea of looking after someone is exciting to him.
He smiles, having a thought. He thinks he knows something that this creature could appreciate. "I enjoy learning illusions- would you like to see one?" His brow furrows as he wonders how to explain what illusions are. "I believe illusions are something like your dreams."
He transports Johnny to sit next to him on the branch. He'll have a better vantage point there.
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"Jesus-!" he blurts, suffering a mild wave of sudden vertigo at the change in altitude. "Give me some god damn warning before you do that."
He fidgets uneasily, shifting into his new position. "Fine," he mutters. "Show me something."