applesaucemod: (Default)
The Big Applesauce Moderators ([personal profile] applesaucemod) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2015-08-28 09:05 pm

What's Stopping Us From Breathing Easy [Open to All]

 photo formal gardens rp_zpsmcfczhgw.png


Dreamers of Manhattan, you've lucked out. Rather than finding yourselves in some kind of dystopian nightmare, you'll end up in a series of formal gardens on a lovely day, the air filled with birdsong and a cloud-scattered sky arching overhead. Some of the gardens look a bit wilder than others, in an artful sort of way, but it's clear that all of the gardens are well kept and frequently tended. Aside from each other, dreamers aren't likely to run into any creature larger than a rabbit. True, there are no actual exits - every doorway or arbor leads to another garden - but that's hardly a problem. It's beautiful, it's safe... what could go wrong?

Well, that depends on the dreamer's honesty. No uncomfortable truths will drop unbidden from anyone's mouths like last time, but the dreamers will find that any time they attempt to lie or prevaricate, they'll be beset by a sneezing fit. A tiny lie by omission might only prompt that uncomfortable feeling of an impending sneeze; a larger, more significant (or more stubborn) fib will lead to a sneeze attack so crippling that the dreamer might just need to sit down for a minute.

You could try to pass it off as allergies, if you could get the words out without making everything worse. But while telling the truth is not compulsory, lying is punishable - and pretty well obscured - by sneezes.

[OOC: Usual dream party rules apply. All are welcome to participate regardless of whether they've been apped in the game or not. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion.]
peeta_mellark: (Pretty Boy)

[personal profile] peeta_mellark 2015-08-29 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Peeta finds himself facing a stone walkway enclosed by a trellis covered in flowering vines. A glance over his shoulder reveals a large fountain, shaped like a woman holding an overflowing pitcher. The fountain is surrounded by waist-high hedges that have been trimmed into a perfectly rounded shape, giving them an odd, undulating motion. On the other side of the fountain, directly across from where Peeta stands, a much higher hedge partitions off the fountain area. Through a break in it that admits the path on which Peeta stands, he can see glimpses of another garden, filled with what looks like roses.

He's reminded, though not forcefully, of the Capitol gardens. Those were much more ostentatious and unnatural feeling than the one in which he stands. The colors and arrangements and plants there had been chosen to create the same effect as the clothing and hairstyles of the people who strolled through them. The garden he is in now is much less extravagant and strange. He turns to stare down the trellised walkway again, which has an element of wildness to it that he never saw in the Capitol gardens.

Intrigued, he starts down the path.
omnomnom_feels: Rashad looking over his shoulder (worry | looking over shoulder)

[personal profile] omnomnom_feels 2015-08-29 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
His tranquility is interrupted by a growingly familiar buzz of general irritation. He does not quite recognize GLaDOS until she speaks, and he actually gives himself away with a little flinch at the implication that he has done something wrong. "I --" he starts, about to say 'I am,' only to be headed off by a sneeze. The sudden violence of it gives him pause; it is very unusual for that to happen. "I was," he admits warily. "It is a well-made place."
Edited 2015-08-29 18:37 (UTC)
wildmage_daine: (apprehensive)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2015-08-29 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
... This isn't right. He's looking at her as if he's never seen her before, and speaking as if he's only a bit more familiar with the words he's speaking.

Daniel? she says again, more slowly this time. It's Daine. He hasn't seen these exact shapes before, she supposes, but who else could she be? She looks around a bit helplessly, as if their surroundings might carry some sort of explanation, but there's nothing but pleasant - if formal - gardens. Nothing grand as this in Manhattan, or nothing this big, anyway. When she was on the wing, she didn't see any end to the place.

Is he confused because they're dreaming?

Daine considers him for a moment, then lapses back into her two-legger shape. "It's me," she says. Surely he'll recognize her now.
peacefulexplorer: (the blood will wash away your sins)

[personal profile] peacefulexplorer 2015-08-29 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
"Daniel!" he blurts triumphantly, snapping his fingers when it rushes back in conjunction with her nonverbal reminder. "That was it!"

She keeps changing. Is this supposed to happen? He massages the side of his head with one hand and holds up the other, palm out. Give him a minute. It doesn't help that he's still sopping wet on top of it. At least the sun's out; he shouldn't be for long.

"Okay. Um," he says, frowning intently. "I'm not - all the way, uhm." He grinds out a little frustrated noise between clenched teeth, tilting his head back. "I don't remember everything. Yet."

Nick had said he would. He said everything would come back. He's better at speaking and understanding the right language already, and that's got to be a good sign, right?
singthesong: (Default)

[personal profile] singthesong 2015-08-29 09:01 pm (UTC)(link)
The Balladeer doesn't recall the Court of Lilies being quite this extensive.

He lost track of Leon a while ago. That usually happens when he leaves the Temple of Music. He invites him to come with every time, if only because he knows perfectly well he'll be turned down; some people just don't appreciate getting out and seeing the sights! But it's no big deal. He'll find him when he needs to - it doesn't feel close to his cue, and even if he's a tad lost now, he's never missed it before.

For now, these gardens are beautiful! He takes a seat on a bench near a bunch of yellow lilies, leaning back and inhaling appreciatively. He's painfully aware that his clothes still smell of wood smoke and tobacco. He'll take these moments where he can.
antitimelord: (distracted)

[personal profile] antitimelord 2015-08-29 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Good thing he isn't fruit. Nor fish, fowl, red herring, etc. Nothing induces more smugness in Zagreus than turning up in someone's blind spot and causing them to startle. But he hadn't been precisely trying for it this time; this dreamer just seems especially on edge, if her tone is anything to judge by. He shrugs, the picture of unconcern. "It's a garden, in a dream, as I said. You're in it, because you're asleep, and the Rift chooses for you to be," he says this with exaggerated patience, over not-so-hidden glee. Terrible circumstances are less terrible when you get to explain them to some other poor suffering soul. Who will then hopefully say how terrible it is, so he can feel vindicated. "You're probably actually in Manhattan. Usually the dreams are better than this." He gives the garden a once-over that clearly finds it lacking, sniffs a gossipy cocktail party sniff.
theoldgirl: (smile)

[personal profile] theoldgirl 2015-08-29 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
As always, the TARDIS is drawn to shared dream constructs with a pleasant atmosphere, so she manifests in a colorful patch of wild flowers as tall as the hem of her dress. The first thing she notes is that the vegetation seems overgrown but its wildness is clearly limited by hedges all around and uneven stepping stones set in the ground. She wanders along the stones, letting herself enjoy the imagined smell and feel of the flowers tingling her fingertips, the soft ground and smooth rock beneath her bare feet, and the warmth of the sun, until she passes through an arch in the hedge and finds herself in a new section.

The stones now lead across a generous pond, topped in places with impressive water lilies, revealing the brief glimmer of fishes in others. Small birds dart in and out of the water and the occasional frog offers a soft croak. It's all just a bit too Terran and neat for the TARDIS; her own gardens boast a much broader variety of flora and fauna, and she'd afford the wild flowers a much bigger space so visitors could actually get lost in the pleasant wilderness. The transition is nicely done, though, not separating different habitats into their own rooms as she tends to do. Perhaps if she had someone to impress, she could liven up this dream a little with her own ideas... But for now she busies herself with carefully balancing on the first stone in the water, slowly making her way across.
etherthief: (excited | omg | science!!)

[personal profile] etherthief 2015-08-29 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"Far from it," she says, lacing her fingers through Greta's and turning, drawing her along. Now that she has such good company, she wants to explore the environment thoroughly. It'll be like going on a date, except not, because it's just a dream, so it's definitely not a date, and everything is totally fine. It's natural to explore dreams with your friends. And hold their hands.

"Finally a good dream," she remarks. "Honestly I think this is the best - best possible-"

She can't continue, overcome by a very sudden, very intense itch that turns into a loud sneeze. She lets go over Greta's hand to catch it with her wrist, doubling over and just holding that position for a moment, blinking in surprise.
wildmage_daine: (starling perch)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2015-08-29 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
It's probably no great surprise that Daine prefers the wilder areas, too. The orderly hedges and show of wealth remind her unpleasantly of Carthak. Their majesties had had a royal forest, but it's not as if they changed it, forcing the trees into tidy rows and pruning their branches into unnatural shapes. There's something a bit ugly, she thinks, about constraining wild things just to show you can.

She's hopping along the top of the arbor in starling shape when she recognizes the top of Peeta's head passing below. Momentarily forgetting herself - or forgetting where they are, more like - Daine pokes her head down through the foliage and lets out a burbling trill to get his attention.
centralcore: (I've been really busy being dead)

[personal profile] centralcore 2015-08-29 10:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Glados jerks back at the sneeze, looking downright offended by it. "Excuse you," she says sourly. She looks around in immense disapproval. "Well-made by what," she demands. "I am given to understand this is a collective dream? Who is designing the thing? It is highly impractical." She puts her hands on her hips, another unconscious motion. "I do not want to dream. I'm not meant to."
wildmage_daine: (neutral - warrior)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2015-08-29 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)
"... Oooooh," Daine says softly as realization dawns. It's followed shortly after by a flare of irritation on Daniel's behalf. Of course the rift couldn't make things simple, couldn't just give him his body back and have done with it. It had to take something, too.

And if he's having a hard time keeping ahold of his own name, no wonder he's looking at her as if she's a complete stranger.

"Well," she continues, her tone briskly reassuring, "we do know each other. If I'd known you'd forgotten everything, I wouldn't have taken bear shape. Sorry," she says again with a brief shrug.
andhiswife: (profile - well then)

[personal profile] andhiswife 2015-08-29 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Greta follows along agreeably, her free hand discovering the leaves in her hair and plucking them out. Just dropping them on the neatly manicured lawn seems a bit rude, but the only alternative is pocketing them, and that would be silly, so she lets them fall.

It's just a dream, after all. No one is actually tending this place.

"Oh!" she says, startled by the sudden sneeze. "Goodness. All right?" She gives Iman's back a gentle pat. It's not hay fever or something, is it? Can that even happen in dreams? Even if it could, she doubts that's the culprit; Iman's never had issues around flowering plants before.
peacefulexplorer: (the blood will wash away your sins)

[personal profile] peacefulexplorer 2015-08-29 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's okay," he says, and it comes a little easier, a little more fluid and natural. "Sorry." He rubs the back of his neck, his expression sheepish. "Nick said it'd all come back. That I've, non sum commotus est, I've done it before?"

He looks at her beseechingly, both a request for patience and confirmation. Does everyone here know him? Is he, ironically, the only one who doesn't? The fact that everyone keeps calling him the same name helps some, reminding him that he was someone before whatever happened happened to him, before he mounted another plane of existence, which doesn't even sound plausible but it's the only explanation he's gotten that makes any sense.
peeta_mellark: (Smile)

[personal profile] peeta_mellark 2015-08-29 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Though birdsong has been in the background ever since Peeta arrived, this particular bird's voice immediately draws Peeta's attention. It takes him several seconds to spot the bird among the vines - a tiny bit of movement gives it away and he finds it almost directly above him. It's watching him in a knowing manner, and he studies it back for a moment.

"Daine?" And really, who else could it be? He glances around again, a thought dawning on him. "Are we dreaming?"
centralcore: (what did you say to me)

[personal profile] centralcore 2015-08-29 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
What is there to like about it? Glados frowns down at the woman, disapproving but having nothing in particular to level against her yet. Thusfar she is demure and inoffensive. Not like some people.

"Who are you?" she asks briskly, wondering if she's met this person already via Durant's mobile device.
driftseeker: (ummmm unsure)

[personal profile] driftseeker 2015-08-29 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"My name is Mako," she says politely. She hesitates before extending a hand, uncertain of how someone who exudes the air of so much dominance will interpret the gesture. She does not remember ever seeing someone like her before. The stern, no-nonsense disposition is vaguely reminiscent of Pentecost, but she knew Pentecost. She knew he had softer edges.

She does not know if the same will hold true to whoever this is.

"Who are you?" she asks, straining not to allow any note of wariness to enter her tone.
centralcore: (stop that!)

[personal profile] centralcore 2015-08-29 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that was a straight answer, which counts for something, even though it's also preposterous. "That can't be right," she says. "I don't dream. I never ha-"

Utterly without warning, some bizarre, foul biological impulse occurs and a burst of air expels itself, loudly and involuntarily, from her mouth and noise. Her body seizes up and pitches forward with the force of it.

It felt AWFUL. It also felt somewhat satisfying. But mostly awful.

"What was that?!" she demands of her company, whoever he is.
wildmage_daine: (gonna fix it)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2015-08-29 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
She's a little bewildered by 'Nick,' and a lot bewildered by what sounds like another language, but she follows the rest easily enough. "You did say something like that before," she says with an encouraging nod. "Back when you were all ghost-y. You said you'd, um," she pauses, trying to recall the specific term. Something fancy-sounding. "... Ascended?" she guesses.
peacefulexplorer: (Confused | Huh? | What the Hell?)

[personal profile] peacefulexplorer 2015-08-29 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"Uh. Yeah. That." 'Ascended'. That was the word he used. He hadn't explained it very well at all, at least not in any terms Daniel could understand, but maybe he'd justified it in believing he didn't really need to, if it would all come back. Which it would. Which it had to.

"I guess I'm back now," he says. "Whatever, um. Whatever that means? I'm not really sure."

He wraps his arms around himself for a moment, shivering, then belatedly remembers that he is actually kind of soaked. He peels off his jacket and begins wringing it out.
deadeyedchild: this is gonna be the last entry that I'll be posting (smile for the camera)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-08-29 11:32 pm (UTC)(link)
A hand reaches in and grabs Tim's, pulling him through the thick hedges. Jay'd been minding his own business, sitting on the lip of a fountain, when he'd been startled by all the rustling just to his right. His instinct had been to run, but then he'd caught a glimpse of familiar hair, heard a low grunt he recognized. He helps Tim up, offering him a weak smile.

"Hey," he says. "Welcome to the garden party."
deadeyedchild: waiting on you (the fuck was that)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-08-29 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Disguised? Well, that's - understandable, if probably hard to accomplish. He tries to force himself to face her steadily, realizing she must just be another victim of the rift. It's probably not her fault she looks like something out of a horror movie.

"Uh," he says slowly. He's not sure he wants to just get into this with a stranger. Probably best if he acts innocent and dumb, ducks out as fast as possible. "I'm not s-" He breaks off with a sudden violent sneeze, shaking his entire body. "Ugh," he groans into his hands. Is he suddenly developing hayfever or something? "Sorry. I, um, I don't-" He sneezes again, even louder. "Jesus. Uh." He gives it a few seconds, but no more outbursts seem forthcoming, so he carries on: "I have no id-"

He starts sneezing again, and tries to keep talking through it, but he can't. It finally fucking stops when he just gives up, by which time he ends up sitting on the ground, holding his head. What the fuck.

"Okay," he says, highly unamused. "I have no idea what THAT was."

Well, at least he got through that sentence okay.
postictal: (that sounds like total bullshit my guy)

[personal profile] postictal 2015-08-29 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
He jerks back with an aborted sound of alarm when something grabs his hand and tugs him through, but it doesn't take him long to track the hand to its owner and relax, scrambling through the self-made hole in the brush.

"Hey," says Tim, eyeing the fountain dubiously. "Not sure I'm too wild about the whole theme, to be honest."

But at least Jay's dreaming again. Just like normal. As normal as normal ever gets for them, anyway.
deadeyedchild: you've been keeping secrets (no rest)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-08-29 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah..." Jay looks around, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's kinda weird. But as long as there's nothing trying to kill us I'll take it."

He heads back over to the fountain and sits back down. He's not really in the mood to explore - doesn't exactly what to tempt fate, with the whole assumption nothing's going to try to kill them.

"You okay?" he asks idly.
postictal: (what the fuck boy)

[personal profile] postictal 2015-08-29 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm f - "

The muttered lie is lost in the force of an explosive sneeze that nearly doubles him over, hands cupped around his face to muffle the foghorn-like sound as best as he can manage.

"Fuck." Tim sniffles, the back of one hand scrubbing at his nose grouchily. "What is this, allergy season?"
deadeyedchild: we're not going back (so much more than time)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-08-29 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Jay startles sharply, straightening up like a meerkat at the sudden bellow. He almost laughs, but something catches him, something at the back of his mind. He frowns for a moment, staring into the middle distance, trying to sort out his memories. Something from this dream - earlier? Who fucking knows. These dreams are so often like that, he'll find himself waking up with memories of impossibly simultaneous encounters or something.

It's just something about the sneeze was so oddly familiar.

"Oh, shit," he blurts as it very abruptly comes to him. He looks up at Tim, going a bit paler than usual. "Uh. So. I think I just... remembered something, or... I was talking to someone, I can't remember who, but I remember... sneezing a lot? With them?" He looks down at his feet, pushing his hands together, fidgeting and dragging his fingers uncomfortably over his skin. "Um. I think it's... I think that happens when we try to... to lie. That's what it was with me. I think that might be the, uh. The actual... theme."

Ugh. He chews his lip, unable to look up.

"I can just... I can leave you alone," he mumbles. "That might be better."

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