The House was Awake with Shadows and Monsters [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

This might not be the first time a given dreamer has found themselves at a fancy party in a large mansion, and dressed in something they wouldn't typically wear. If the architecture is more gothic than usual, well, that could just be a coincidence… but it's probably no coincidence that the dreamers are all wearing Halloween costumes that they decidedly did not pick themselves. 'Tis the season! They might look fancy, they might look slapdash; either way, it shouldn't be too difficult for the dreamers to figure out who - or what - they're supposed to be.

The evening's festivities are centered around a grand ballroom. Music is emanating from somewhere or other, and numerous chandeliers are aglow with warm candlelight. Tables line the perimeter, and they're piled with seasonal snacks and bowls of punch. If dancing isn't your thing, there's a whole mansion and extensive grounds to explore.

Those who venture forth will notice that the farther they wander from the party, the less friendly things seem. Tidy rooms with fires in the hearths will give way to dark, dusty corridors and neglected spaces. Manicured lawns grow into tangled hedges. As the music fades out of earshot, the house's settling groans and the hiss of the wind through the ivy will be impossible to ignore.

(It was just the house, wasn't it? Sure it was. It was probably your own footsteps that made that floorboard creak, too. And that rustle on the other side of the hedge was just a rabbit.)

All things considered, it might be more comfortable to just stay in the ballroom, where it's warm and cheerful and there are plenty of snacks. A note about the snacks, though: the dreamers will find that the more punch they consume, the more their own identities seem to fade away in favor of a persona more in line with their costumes. A dreamer dressed as a tiger might find themselves inclined to hide behind a curtain and pounce on passersby. A dreamer dressed as a mummy might adopt a stiff-legged gait and dole out a curse or two. A dreamer dressed as a robot might start speaking binary.

At least no one will actually turn into anything. That would just be embarrassing.

The good news is that eating any of the available food will counteract the punch's effects, so it's possible to have a fine time and still keep ahold of yourself. But what's the fun in that?


[ooc: the usual dream party rules apply. All are welcome, whether they've been apped to the game or not. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Any punch-drinking dreamers will take on the personality characteristics - and potentially the magical/supernatural capabilities - of whatever or whoever they're dressed as, though their physical appearance will remain the same.]

Comments

[worth_it]

Dear god, this is almost too easy. Draco watches with naked disbelief as the man attempts a bow. "I'm sorry," he says, making an idiot-encompassing gesture towards him, "was that a surrender? You do realize that's what 'bow out' means...?"

Or doesn't he? Draco's beginning to suspect that it would be unsportsmanlike to challenge him to a dance-off at all when the man has all the coordination of a newborn cow, but on the other hand, the muggle insulted him, and the entire centaur race.

[grabme]

"Surrender?" He looks at the man in utter bafflement. "Why did you say so? You're not very good on the clarifying front, now, are you?"

He hesitates, attempting to shrink into himself and failing utterly.

"Would that, um, surrendering, that whole bit - would it - hurt?" he asks tentatively.

[worth_it]

"You're not very good on the 'understanding simple metaphors' front," Draco fires back, too amused by the muggle's idiocy to be upset over the attempted jab. "Perhaps you might be more interested in 'throwing in the towel' or 'chickening out' or 'getting cold feet.'"

He paces around the man, hands on hips, tiny horse bottom bobbing behind him. "It would only hurt your pride," Draco says. "Assuming you have any."

[grabme]

"Then, ah, in that case, I'll, I'm - I'm more or less - content to be where I am, thank you, not much one for the dancing and the, um, the surrendering and, and what-not. So what say we just call it a, um, a good old-fashioned draw, how's that sound?"

He regards the other man hopefully.

[worth_it]

Draco's paces slow as he looks up at the man. "I suppose I might be willing to spare you," he says, planting his hands on his hips. "But only if you apologize for insulting the noble centaur race, and admit that I am the best dancer in the room."

[grabme]

"Fine!" he snaps, wholly ungracefully. He's really just not eager to be engaging in any confrontation of the sort! "I apologize for that - on the behalf of - you're a right fantastic dancer, are you bloody happy?"

[worth_it]

"You know," Draco says with a grin, "I am." See? Putting muggles in their place is easy. Daddy would be ever so proud if he could see Draco now.

He waves a hand imperiously and says, "Now, be off with you." Then, without waiting to see whether the muggle actually retreats or not, he leaps back onto the dance floor.