applesaucedream | Saving Lives a Mile High [open to all]

Welcome to another ordinary day in Manhattan. This barely even qualifies as a dream at all, it's so like waking life. The dreamers will find that they're their own perfectly normal selves going about their perfectly normal business and thwarting perfectly normal crimes in their perfectly normal spandex outfits.

What's that? No, of course it's normal to wear spandex (or leather, for the more chic among you) and go around beating up muggers and thwarting your villainous counterparts, don't be silly. What else would you do with your afternoon, not use your superpowers to better the world? That's grossly irresponsible of you; don't you know that with great power comes great responsibility?

So get out there and make the world a better place -- and be sure not to let that disguise slip if you do make it in to work today. Wouldn't want anyone to learn your secret identity, after all.

[OOC: Characters will find themselves thrust into the role of superhero...or at least, super-powered human. Whether they'd use those powers for good or evil (or use them at all), they'll think they've always been this way (or maybe just since that time they fell in toxic waste and developed ~~cancer~~ telekinesis). Usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters welcome regardless of membership status. Characters will remember or forget the events of the dream at players' discretion.]

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This doesn't seem like something he should follow up on, but it's so brazenly suspicious he kind of can't help it. He narrows his eyes slightly. "Familiar," he echoes. "You're telling me this-" he gestures to encompass his face, "-looks familiar to you?" He's never had a problem admitting that his face is weird as fuck. No one has ever said he looked familiar without actually knowing him.

"And that made you think I knew Johnny?" Look at him, playing investigator. To be fair you can't bullshit a bullshitter and he's one of the biggest ones around.

Still though, it leaves him with nothing but reasonable doubt and a healthy dose of bafflement. So he gives up the smart guy bluff and asks bluntly, "Who are you?"

...okay, come to think of it, the guy is pretty weird-looking. He honestly hadn't noticed with all the other assaults on his senses.

"No one." He shakes his head and turns to go on his way. After Johnny, he's not inclined to linger around this; who knows what his nights might become after just this much exposure? Is this another house thing? It doesn't feel quite the same, but it also doesn't sound safe.

"Wait," says Jay in frustration, taking steps to trail after him. "You can't just - Look, what do you know about me?"

He can't afford to shrug this shit off anymore. Arguably he never could, but now, things being the way they are, this is literally all he has left.

"You don't understand, okay, I can't get back," he says, taut, just barely keeping himself together. "When this dream ends I'm - I'm just out there again, I can't reach anyone. So tell me what you know, please."

"Dream?" That gets him to pause a little, glancing over his shoulder. What's that supposed to mean?

More than that, though, is the fact that no one ever wants him to read them like that. Does this man even know what it is he's asking? "I can't - I don't know anything." He shakes his head fiercely. "I don't want to know anything. Listen, if you want my advice, you really shouldn't go back to wherever you came from." Maybe if he lives in a normal place for a while and stays out of trouble, that problem of his will clear up!

...it could happen!

Oh christ, does nobody know? He drops his face into his hands, letting out a muffled groan. "Yeah, that ship has fuckin sailed," he mutters. "In more ways than one." He peers at the guy through his fingers, trying to determine if it's worth trying to force any more interaction. He seems like he wants to get away, but that in itself is sort of telling.

"I'm Jay," he says doggedly, and drops his hands, offering one to shake.

His face falls flat as he glances down at the hand. Far be it from him to be rude, but...

...oh, buck up. He's not going to catch static from a simple handshake. He takes it, firmly and very quickly, then slips his hands into his pockets as if that's going to help. "Jay. Right."

This would probably be where another person would insert a name. Instead, he looks him up and down one more time, eyes narrowing. He does feel a bit abstracted, even apart from everything clearly unnatural about him. Maybe he's dead. God, that almost does start to sound like something he should deal with; if nothing else, he could call in a hero to see to it. "Where did you come from?"

Jay rolls his eyes, impatient with the question and his whole damn situation. "Here," he says, gesturing unnecessarily around them. "Manhattan, the real one, not this... whatever this is. I mean before that it was a different universe, but who even gives a shit about that. Is any of this ringing a fucking bell?" Of course he had to wind up in the big dream where no one remembers shit about anything. He could add he's dead, but he isn't quite ready to just drop that out all nonchalant and shit, not quite the way he is with 'different universe'.

Is that raised eyebrow enough of an answer?

He's not sure why he expected something coherent anyway. Johnny holds himself together, but people who have gone through things like that...you probably can't blame them. That doesn't particularly sound like someone who's died, either, unless he's deluding himself over it. "Right. Sorry, I'm not sure I can help you with...that."

Saving Lives a Mile High [open to all]

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