The Big Applesauce Moderators (
applesaucemod) wrote in
applesaucedream2016-01-29 08:14 pm
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Entry tags:
- character: asmodia antarion,
- character: castor el-saeid,
- character: cole,
- character: daine sarrasri,
- character: gabriel,
- character: greta baker,
- character: iman asadi,
- character: jack frost,
- character: james t. kirk,
- character: jess mariano,
- character: johnny truant,
- character: king richard,
- character: rashad durant,
- character: steven universe,
- character: sunshine,
- character: the balladeer,
- dropped: seth,
- party post
It's a Waste of Time, Chasing in the Dark

Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves in a forest. Or an office. Or a suburban living room. Or a castle tower. Or a grocery store. The dream is a patchwork of assorted settings, each one blurring inelegantly into the next, most of them only claiming half an acre or so. The hodgepodge makes for quite a sight.
Or it would, if the dreamers could see anything. Natural light is in short supply. In fact, there isn't any light at all, not even a faint twinkle of starlight; you might as well be deep inside a cave. No matter how good their eyes might be, the dreamers won't be able to see their own hands in front of their faces - not unless they can fashion some sort of light source out of whatever they might manage to find. The dream isn't inclined to make things easy; any appliances or electrical light sources the dreamers stumble over won't be plugged in, and any walls, however solid they might seem, won't contain any wiring. A small fire might be the best bet - presuming you can find any means of lighting one.
But there's good news. Each of the dreamers will find themselves with a second set of
Just… move carefully. You wouldn't want to trip over someone else's dæmon by mistake. Imagine how awkward that would be.
[ooc: y'all know the drill. Characters don't have to be apped or in the game to show up, and dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. This particular dream isn't a power nerf - a character with the ability to create light could still do so - but the range will be extremely localized, as if the darkness is a solid thing that doesn't want to be pushed back.]
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She holds her breath, listening hard. Over the omnipresent sound of the waves, there's a crunch of footsteps that aren't coming from them. It sounds like a single pair of feet - so, someone with an animal small enough to carry, like a bird - and her heart leaps. But Angus is sifting the air suspiciously, and it's a heavier tread than she'd expect from Iman. The Balladeer? No, Angus would know. Someone else, then. A stranger.
It occurs to her that if they both just stayed completely still and silent, whoever this is might pass them by, none the wiser. Then it occurs to her that someone might have pulled the same trick with her and Angus already, and that's enough to make her shiver. Better to just say something. If worst comes to worst, they could head for the waterline. The sound of the waves would mask their splashing, and they could escape that way.
"Hello?" she ventures, doing her level best not to sound frightened. "Is someone out there?"
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It's not a voice that he recognizes, but at least there's someone else here in the darkness. And...some sort of walking animal, if he's hearing correctly. A dog? Once he gets a little closer, he tries again. "Hello, my name is James Kirk." A nudge from the otter around his shoulders prompts him to introduce her as well. "I've got Carina with me. She's an otter."
"Thank you." says Carina.
"I'm assuming we're in a dream environment. Beyond that, I don't know what to expect yet."
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James Kirk. The man left abandoned in Iman's apartment the day she came back. Oh, dear.
Greta can feel her cheeks prickling with embarrassment. She knows it wasn't her fault, exactly; she had no way of knowing he existed before Iman finally mentioned him (after bolting upright in bed in the wee hours, to Greta's considerable alarm). But she can't help feeling responsible for how, er... distracted Iman was. And once she did know Mr. Kirk existed, she probably could have tried a bit harder to make sure he was properly settled, instead of just urging Iman to hurry back every time she stepped out the door.
Has Iman mentioned her to him? Does he know?
For the first time, she's rather glad of the darkness. It's impossible for him to see how red she's gone.
Angus gives her a pointed nudge, and she hastily replies, "I'm Greta, and this is Angus. He's a dog."
"Hullo," Angus offers, shifting his paws so they can all at least hear where he is.
"And you, er..." Greta hesitates, not sure she wants to get into the circumstances of his arrival, but she can't just not mention it. Whether he knows of her or not, she feels as if she owes him an apology. At the very least, she ought to ask how he's doing. "You're the gentleman who arrived with Iman," she says, sounding distinctly awkward.
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She lowers her hands, one finding Angus's head. He gives her a light, bolstering sort of nudge. "Likewise," she says, "though I'm sorry about the, er... distraction. Have--you're all right, I take it? Have you found someplace to stay?" He sounds capable, to the extent that anyone can. He certainly doesn't come across as resentful, and he'd have every right to be if he was still bunking on Iman's couch while Iman was with her. Perhaps he's landed a proper apartment.
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"This dream is stupid," she hisses.
Aqil's not listening. He never listens. "There's someone up ahead," he says. "You could hear them if you'd stop complaining for a second."
Iman is about to make some kind of affronted response, but he's right - she hears voices, two of them, up ahead. A person and their animal, or two people? Either way. She slogs forward, tripping over herself a few times, before she recognizes Greta's particular cadence.
"Greta!" she practically squeaks, and Aqil heaves an aggrieved sigh. Iman stumbles forward, feeling about, trying to find her or her giant fluffy dog. "Greta, it's me!" she adds uselessly. And then she finds a body, abruptly, by colliding with it. She's pretty sure that's not Greta. "Oh," she says in embarrassment.