applesaucedream | How dreary to be Somebody

Tonight the dreamers of Manhattan will not know where it is they find themselves, nor how they got there…nor where they came from. They will not remember that they have been taken from their homes by the whims of a capricious Rift, and they will remember neither the people they've lost nor those they've met.

Tonight, the dreamers of Manhattan will not remember who they are at all.

What remains is a sense of how the world should be, minus an understanding of whom one is within that world. Some will know the hospital in which they find themselves for what it is, though they will not remember how they know. The long halls are lined with patients' rooms, doctors' offices, and locked doors to supply rooms and labs. Here and there one finds a common room or cafeteria with furniture that might almost be comfortable if only everything weren't so sterile.

The staff are largely absent; the only people who might explain matters are the minders at each door to the outside, but they aren't inclined to provide explanations. If asked, they will only say that the dreamers are here for their own safety. Attempts to leave will be gently but firmly blocked. Insistence on leaving will be dangerous to the dreamers, though the minders will be more than ready to grab anyone who actually makes it through one of the doors before they can float away into the void that's waiting for them on the other side.

They're all here for their own safety and good, after all. Too bad no one will say why that is.

[Semi-standard dream rules apply: players and their characters are not required to be members of this community in order to participate in the party. Unlike usual, however, all characters will forget the events of the dream upon waking.]

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She hesitates, then nods. Her body feels more familiar the longer she's in it, and though she's still shaking from the shock she's had, she doesn't think it's bad enough to have her falling on her face. "I think so," she adds for good measure. It's not hard for her to speak aloud; surely she can manage to stand.

Her panicked retreat fetched her up within a foot or so of the counter. She reaches up with one hand, using it to steady herself as she rises to her feet. For a sick-making moment, the room seems to tilt around her. She's taller than she was as a wolf, and the floor seems awfully far away. But the dizziness ebbs, and she's able to take her weight off of the counter.

"I did it," she says, pressing her lips together. At least she can stop them from wobbling. "Huzzah."

"Good job! You're a quick learner!" If her enthusiasm is forced, his seems entirely genuine. This is totally a thing to be excited about!

So! Now they're two humans. That changes things a bit - not a whole lot, but a bit. "There's not really anyone else around," he confides in a lower tone. "Just a few people guarding the doors. I thought if I found some clothes and looked normal, I could get one of them to let me out. I only tried the one door." That person hadn't seemed to recognize him personally - they wouldn't give him his own name. If the others don't know who he is either, they needn't know he's a patient.

It might make more sense for him to stay. He's obviously ill. They just don't seem like they're actually interested in helping anyone around here.

Is he making fun of her? She narrows her eyes for a moment, irked by the idea that he thought she might be that useless... and then irked by the fact that she can hardly even reassure herself that he's wrong. She doesn't remember anything about herself, and he's a total stranger. All he knows of her is that she was a wolf a few minutes ago, and now she's not, and that she hasn't any idea how she even managed that little trick. It's not as if she's been inspiring much confidence.

So, aside from pressing her lips together tighter for a moment or two, she elects not to respond. He doesn't really sound like he's making fun of her, at least (though she's not sure what it says about him if he thinks standing up is a praiseworthy deed).

"Where are the healers?" she asks as she takes a few steps away from the counter. It feels more natural the longer she stays like this, and her balance isn't so bad. "If this is a place for sick folk, there ought to be healers." That just seems like common sense. "Guards are for prisons."

Hey, she had four legs a minute ago! He thinks it's great that she's getting the hang of balancing on two so fast. Besides that, she's handling this all very well.

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Oh, now he doesn't sound pleased at all. His knowledge of how hospitals work is a bit vague, but he's very sure there's supposed to be doctors. "They couldn't tell me why I was here, or who I was. They just said I wasn't allowed out. You're the first person other than them that I've found in here."

Does he have to tell her that this isn't normal? It's probably a good point to clarify. "There's...something wrong here. I don't know, I'm sure it's not supposed to be like this."

She frowns, then absently lifts a thumb to her mouth so she can nibble her nail while she thinks. That doesn't sound very promising. The idea of them needing healers isn't much of a stretch; she doesn't remember anything about herself, and even her immediate surroundings are rife with puzzling objects and materials she can't name. Maybe she took a blow to the head, though when she cautiously prods at it, there's no pain or lumps or other signs of injury.

But if they both need healers, and this is meant to be a place for one, then where are they? Ill folk shouldn't be allowed to wander around like this. She might not know much, but that's just common sense. Someone ought to be looking after them, not just stopping them from leaving.

She lowers her hand. "You said you only tried one door. There are others?"

"Sure." He hasn't really approached them; it'd defeat the idea of sneaking out of one eventually. But you don't have just one way in and out of a building, right? There's definitely other doors someplace.

He doesn't miss that touch to her head. Does she feel anything unusual? Save for the amnesia, he feels perfectly fine himself. It's weird. Honestly, he'd almost rather his head hurt - things would make a little more sense then. "I figure if we can get out, we can find some actual doctors! Or...something," he finishes, uncertain. What will they do? They don't have anything outside either, as far as they're aware.

('We' comes easily enough that he doesn't realize he's doing it. They're in the same boat; they should stick together.)

As far as she's concerned, 'outside' is a worthy goal all on its own. She doesn't like this place, and while she has no idea what they might find outside, she suspects it'll be easier to manage. And if she accidentally turns into a wolf again, she won't stick out as much.

"That sounds better than staying in here," she agrees. She doesn't miss that 'we,' but she finds she doesn't mind it. Even being with another person who doesn't know what's going on is better than being alone. And if all the doors are guarded, they'll have better luck getting out if they cooperate. "I don't like being penned up. If they're not going to heal us, why hold us here?"

Well. Maybe because she's fully capable of turning into a wolf and panicking folk. But if they really wanted to keep her caged, they would have done it properly, instead of giving her free rein and letting her panic the other folk inside.

"I don't know." He's been through all the possibilities in his head already, at least all the ones he can think of. "I think normally it would be because we were criminals, or just dangerous, except they aren't trying very hard to keep an eye on us. Are they?" She turned out not to be a threat, but he's still a little peeved that no one could be bothered to come help when he thought a wild animal might eat him.

Speaking aloud seems to help his thought process, at least, so he continues musing."But you've got amnesia too...maybe it's some kind of quarantine? I'd still expect a little more supervision. Or - signs or something?" His concept of disease control measures is pretty fuzzy. "And I guess the guards are way too close if we've got some sort of new memory illness."

Her gut twists uncomfortably at 'dangerous.' She doesn't want to think of herself as such, but she was a wolf earlier. That would make her dangerous enough as far as most humans are concerned. And if everyone in here was shut in for being dangerous, maybe whoever put them here doesn't care if they hurt one another.

Her brow furrows at amnesia and quarantine. What is he talking about? Memory illness is easier for her to parse, and she nods. If their illness was catching, the guards wouldn't want to go near them.

"We'd best find a door, then," she decides, padding out into the hallway. "If there's only one guard, we'd outnumber them." She glances both directions, but neither seems more promising than the other. "Which way is the door you already tried?" she asks. Not much point in going that way, whichever it ends up being.

"It was down that way." He lifts a hand to point. He's still speaking in normal tones; the door's far enough down the hall that he's not too worried about being heard. It seems obvious what she's thinking, so he turns to start walking in the opposite direction. "I woke up over there too. I thought I'd explore the rest of this place, see if I could find anything."

As they pass another room, he opens the door and pokes his head inside. Empty. It's not a surprise at this point, but it's still a bit disappointing.

"Are you saying we should just fight them?" He asks, angling his head back towards her. It seems like a logical idea. Why's he suddenly so put off by it?

How dreary to be Somebody

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