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

[rae_of_sun]

Sunshine arches an eyebrow at the implied exchange. It's not unheard of back home for a peri to have a knack with certain animals, but she never knew anyone like that, personally. It's pretty frigging weird, watching someone carry on an apparent conversation with an oversized rodent, even if said rodent is a familiar.

"I think he's supposed to be a dog," Sunshine offers before taking a bite out of a cracker. "A herding type. To go with the whole... theme." She makes a pointed gesture towards Asmodia's truly unfortunate hat with her half-eaten cracker before popping the morsel into her mouth.

[biscuit_powered]

"Alright," says Asmodia, pointedly ignoring whatever Biscuit is saying to her in his amusement. There's definitely noise coming out of him, though. "But why are we all dressed as animals? I don't even like sheep. I mean I don't really know anything about sheep, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like them."

[rae_of_sun]

"Not all of us," Sunshine points out. She's not envious. It could be worse. Just keep reminding yourself of that, Sunshine.

And while she could make an educated guess as to why the Rift decided to deck her out as a deer, she doesn't know Asmodia's life. "Have you been feeling sheepish?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. See, two can play the stupid wordplay game.

[biscuit_powered]

"No i-deer what I'd have to be sheepish about," shrugs Asmodia. It is on. "What about you, doe?"

[rae_of_sun]

Oh, gods. Why did she start this? Sunshine grimaces and waves her glass in a general 'please desist' kind of way. "Stop. You win, just... stop."

Should she explain about the whole doe thing? She considers it for a beat, faintly surprised that the lingering trauma isn't as potent a deterrent as the fact that as stories go, it's kind of long and also incredibly gross. Far be it from her to put anyone off their punch.

"So, how have you been doing?" she asks. It occurs to her, belatedly, that she's been pretty bad at socializing with anyone who isn't Spike, lately. It's been hard to get up the energy to even consider hanging out, but she feels vaguely responsible for Asmodia, having found her and all.

[biscuit_powered]

"Yess." Asmodia pumps her fist in celebration of the victory. She notes the pause, but doesn't make much of it -- her and Biscuit's costumes strike her as random and unwarranted, so there's no reason to think that there are deeper meanings at play for any of them.

"Not...much," she admits. The closest she's had to an adventure was the encounter with that flying leech, and she's not going to tell Sunshine about that. "It's weird, you'd think a place full of people kidnapped by an interdimensional rift would be completely crazy, but it's just...quiet. I don't really know what to do with myself anymore."

[rae_of_sun]

"The craziness can be surprisingly easy to miss," Sunshine says. All the faction drama managed to fly right over her head. Not that she's complaining. Given the option of either going about her normal workday only to come home and find the building under new angelic management, or having her subterranean bunker pulled down around her ears, she'll take the former every time. Going native has its perks.

"What did you do with yourself back home?" Sunshine raises her eyebrows over the rim of her cup as she takes a sip of punch. Maybe Asmodia's existing skillset could translate into gainful employment, somehow.

[biscuit_powered]

"...I worked in procurement," Asmodia replies, the line smooth all but for a pause at the beginning that goes on just a split second too long. She covers the next pause with a sip, giving herself time to think before adding, "I was part of a kind of team, did a lot of traveling."

And a lot of killing, she doesn't add.

[rae_of_sun]

Uh-huh. Sunshine quirks an eyebrow. That sounds vague in a deliberate sort of way. "'Procurement'?" she repeats with a wry smile. "Is that the professional term for 'stealing'?"

For whatever it's worth, there's no condemnation in her tone. She lacks the full story. Hell, she lacks even the barest framework for the full story, given how little she knows about Asmodia's home universe. Maybe 'procurement' is above board in Asmodiaville. Still, she can't resist adding, "And with a team? Were there heists?"

Part of her almost feels wistful. Maybe it's the thought of having a team. Safety in numbers. She's had help in her own unsavory endeavors, sure, but it was always disparate. A few SOF agents, a partblood librarian on the SOF payroll, and a vampire who had to be kept secret from everyone else even though his help was probably the most crucial, when all was said and done. Not exactly a united front.

[biscuit_powered]

"Would 'archaeology' sound better?" asks Asmodia, chuckling with an utter lack of shame at being caught out. "We archaeologied the shit out of a few places."

She's feeling a little wistful, herself. Things had changed back home before she left -- she likely wouldn't be 'working in procurement' even if she was still in Golarion -- but it's not just the work she misses. Not after what she's been through with the others. "I wouldn't call it theft," she says with a shrug. It's true, in a literal fashion.