applesaucedream | Universal Remote [Open to All]

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Here's an interesting scene: the dreamers of Manhattan are on a pirate ship. Or perhaps they're standing in a busy ER, wearing scrubs and holding a scalpel they may or may not know how to use. Or perhaps they've found themselves in the middle of a world cup championship game, or an old-fashioned highway robbery, or an interstellar dogfight, or a dramatic, 'unscripted' showdown between arguably attractive people they've never seen before in their lives.

Whatever the situation, rest assured: it probably won't last long.

Maybe the Rift is bored. That might explain why the dream keeps changing, as if someone were idly flicking through the channels and switching up the genre. The poor dreamers are just along for the ride, the only constant amidst a shifting array of scenery, clothing, and overall mood. Perhaps, if things are sufficiently interesting, the dream might settle a little to see how things play out. But given the Rift's definition of 'interesting,' that might not be a good thing for whoever is providing the entertainment.

[OOC: the usual dream party rules apply. All are welcome, regardless of whether they're in the game or not. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Dreamers' clothes may change to reflect whatever scene they're in, but their memories and personalities will remain intact... though the overall mood of the setting might influence their mood, as well. Feel free to throw NPCs into whatever scene you find yourself in, with bonus points added if said characters treat the dreamers as if they're established parts of the 'canon.']

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Now it's Daine's turn to gawp. "The Divine Realms?" she repeats in an incredulous squeak. "But I never--"

She snaps her mouth shut as she realizes what must be happening. Maybe she should've expected this straight off, but Alanna doesn't look older - not as much as Aly did. But she's from Daine's future. She must be. And that means she'd best stop letting slip things like that: things Daine hasn't even done yet.

"I--it was the winter just after we got back from Carthak that the Rift took me," she explains. "I don't know about anything that happened after that. And... beg pardon, but I don't think I should." It's enough of a torment just being away from home without also fretting over a list of things she could be doing if she wasn't stuck in the wrong realm.

Alanna eyes the girl sharply, looking for any hint of a lie, any indication that this isn't the real Daine. But she can feel that it's the truth, and she has to trust her instincts, even in a dream.

She nods her understandings.

"If you think that's best."

Daine nods. "It'd only make this harder, being stuck away." That's not the only reason, of course; knowing her own future would take all the freedom out of getting there. But it's a good enough reason all on its own. So much time has passed since she's seen anyone from home, let alone someone as familiar as Alanna, and the collection of days seems to settle onto her shoulders like a weight.

She'd almost forgotten to miss them, she realizes with vague disgust. She'd almost got settled.

"How long has it been for you?" she asks, brow furrowed. "Since Carthak, I mean?" Has the same amount of time passed for Alanna, even if it was in a different realm? Daine's not sure if would mean anything if it had. It might be nothing more than a coincidence. But one of the many things no one in New York can say with any certainty is how folk are getting on in the realms they left behind. Maybe the Lioness is from the same Tortall Daine vanished from, and the Rift is pulling some sort of trickery, leaving a copy of her to keep her friends from suspecting anything. (It wouldn't even be the only time some Rift mischief caused a second one of her to appear.)

"About a year." She doesn't know what else she's supposed to say about that. Daine makes a good point, about the future only hurting her. If she hasn't been missed by her friends, how can it feel to know she hasn't been missed by the rest of the realm? She purses her lips.

"Then we're not so far apart - at least as time goes." Is that good news? It feels like good news. Maybe she's grateful she doesn't have to worry about hearing too much about things she hasn't done, yet. Or maybe it's just a relief that she and Alanna aren't so separated by time that they might as well be strangers.

She hesitates before asking her next question. It's fair foolish; what she wants to know is how folk have been getting along without her, and they haven't been. More to the point, she shouldn't be asking for details, anyway. But she can't quite help herself. "How's everyone faring?" she asks, peeking over at Alanna, almost shyly. "I don't need to know details, but..."

But she hasn't seen anyone in months, and even if she can't know details, at least she could know if everyone all right.

That a year isn't so bad a discrepancy is more than a little worrying. Alanna isn't sure how to answer. Should she say that everyone is doing well? Wouldn't that just make Daine miss them more?

"As well as may be expected," she says carefully, gauging the girl's reaction. "There's trouble with Scanra."

It's not a very satisfying answer, but it's also no more than Daine ought to hear. She doubts any answer would satisfy her, anyway; she'd be satisfied by going home and seeing everyone properly.

Even that would be bittersweet. She's made friends in New York, too - dear ones that she doesn't want to lose.

Daine's gaze sharpens a little at the news of Scanra. "Nothing you can't sort," she says, half-guessing. Not that there's a thing she could do to help, regardless.

"Nothing we can't sort," she agrees. It isn't anything she could handle as the Champion, but she has faith in the soldiers of Tortall and the palace's ability to forge a treaty.

Daine nods a bit dully. She knows there's no use fretting about it. They've handled plenty without her help in the past, and she can't offer them any, now. All she can do is trust that they'll manage without her (or without her her, this her, and she feels a sudden stab of envy for this other Daine, copy or not, who gets to go about living her proper life in her proper realm).

She pulls in a breath, though she isn't entirely sure what she ought to say. Sometimes, conversations in Manhattan feel like crossing a frozen-over river: trying to avoid thin ice, trying not to slip up. It's only natural, what with so many folk being from realms with no magic, or natives of Manhattan not necessarily looking kindly on rifties.

It feels far less natural now, with Alanna. Daine shouldn't have to watch herself around her friend.

It's almost a relief when the scenery abruptly shifts. The living room melts away, replaced by a rain-slicked city street. Manhattan, or near enough by Daine's reckoning. She lurches a little at the loss of the couch beneath her, but manages to right herself without sitting down on the wet pavement. Looking to the Lioness, she says, "This is what it's like, the new realm I'm in." There's a flash of headlights and a hiss of tires, and she hastily adds, "I should probably warn you about cars."

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