From the Left, Calpurnia, One Serves from the Left! [Open]

[applesaucemod]

Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves at a dinner party. It is an elegant dinner party, for the most elegant people in all of New York. That seems to be the general idea, at least, going by the upscale interior, immaculate table settings, mood lighting, and the small fact that the dreamers are all dressed to the nines. There's even an open bar! Look, they've had worse dreams. It's hard to complain. If anything, they ought to be thankful. That's the reason for the season, after all.

Which isn't to say they'll have nothing to complain about. It won't take the dreamers very long to realize that their thoughts and actions are accompanied by a steady stream of mild, audible narration. It politely cuts out whenever they speak, but if they fall silent, it picks up again. The mystery speakers' voices vary from dreamer to dreamer, but all of them are generally pleasant and inoffensive to the ear. They don't seem inclined towards arguing with their assignees - in fact, they don't even seem to notice when they're being addressed. Are they even conscious? It's not clear. What is clear is that they just. won't. stop.

The good news is that the dreamers won't be subjected to everyone's personal narration at once. The only disembodied voice they'll be able to hear with complete consistency is their own. However, they will find that if they engage in conversation with someone else, they'll start to pick up on their partner's narration, as well.

It probably won't be awkward at all.



[OOC: the usual dream party rules apply. Characters do not have to be apped to the game to play, and dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. For the sake of clarity, audible narration will be enclosed in colons as opposed to quotation marks :a-like so: - this will keep it from getting muddled with the dialogue or confused with the non-audible narrative phrases you'd typically use in a tag.]

Comments

[etherthief]

Iman covers her face and snorts through the narration of Greta's skirt investigation.

:This is all just too ridiculous, she can't stop laughing. It's nice. A good feeling. She always feels so comfortable with Greta, no matter how absurd things are, how embarrassed she ought to feel.:

Well, that was nice of it to add.

:Iman peeks through her fingers as Greta comes around to voicing a scheme. She's pretty sure she sees where this is going, and she's pretty sure she likes it.:

Iman grins. "Scandalous," she comments. "I do like it."

[andhiswife]

:Greta blushes, more in response to the assorted compliments than the idea of it being scandalous. True, it would be a shame to rip her own skirt apart, but it's already so long that she'd barely have to take it up to the knee to have plenty of material for a scarf. If she tears it straight enough and no one looks too closely, they might not even notice.:

"I think I could," she says, sounding increasingly excited by the idea. "Make it straight, I mean. My Rift enchantment has worked in dreams before; I don't see why it wouldn't work this time, too."

She looks sidelong at Iman, biting her lower lip in an unsuccessful bid to hide a sly smile. "I'd just need to be distracted."

:Surely Iman could help with that part.:

[etherthief]

"Sure can," says Iman gleefully. :She loves this plan! There are so many real world applications! They could do this kind of thing all the time. While Greta's baking, if they ever need to break in somewhere - Iman will be there to provide.:

She stifles a laugh against Greta's shoulder and - say, there's a nice place to start, all soft and warm and good-smelling - she trails little kisses slowly up Greta's shoulder toward her neck, murmuring softly as she goes, until she's all the way to Greta's ear. Now that's a good distracting place to linger, all sensitive and so on. She smirks and parts her lips gently around the shell of Greta's ear.

[andhiswife]

:Greta's not sure how distracted she ought to be when there are hot ovens involved, and Iman is perfectly capable of breaking into a locked room on her own. Then again, it's hard to object to the idea of being affectionately ambushed at any given time. Especially by Iman, who is just so good at... well. Everything.:

Her voice is laying it on a bit thick, but it's not wrong. Grinning, Greta takes the hem of her skirt between her hands and turns her face towards Iman, enjoying her gentle attentions, waiting for that balance between 'too distracted to focus' and 'not so distracted as to stop caring.' Her pulse quickens as Iman works her way up her neck, her breath warm against her skin, and then she reaches her ear, and--

:Greta's hands move without any direct order from her brain, tearing a neat slit from the hemline to just below her knee. The sound of rending fabric is almost enough to cover the little mewling sound she makes, but not quite.:

"Oh, shut up," Greta breathes, exasperated, before turning to check her handiwork. It is neat - as much as anyone could hope for - and she looks back at Iman with a pleased, anticipatory smile. "There's that bit done." Eyes narrowing a little, as if in a challenge, she adds, "Shall we continue?"

[etherthief]

Iman beams at all three the noise, the narration, and the successfully ripped fabric. "My hero," she remarks coyly.

:Her eyebrows lift at Greta's little challenge. Granted, the circumstances are a bit odd, but she could get used to this kind of thing. Not that she doesn't love the tenderness. But playfulness, well, that's more or less her bread and butter.:

She rolls her eyes and clears her throat pointedly, as if the narrator will actually respond to her directly, then recovers her composure and leans back in. She resumes mouthing with gentility and care at Greta's ear, but shifts her hands in between them, running them up Greta's sides before unabashedly copping herself a feel. A bit graceless, but she's drunk and punchy and it'll do the damn trick.

[andhiswife]

Iman's narration is informative enough that Greta arches an eyebrow in turn, and then she's giggling at Iman's response. But her laughter cuts off into a sharp gasp when Iman leans back in, and oh dear, she's going to completely forget what she's meant to be doing in a minute.

:This is maddening - Iman's mouth, her hands - and Greta's just preoccupied enough with this dratted skirt that she can't do anything but take it. She'd much rather be giving something back - something besides an improvised hijab - and it's in that moment of frustration that her hands move again, swift and sure of themselves, rending the bottommost portion of her skirt from the rest of her dress in an improbably tidy rectangle.:

"Oh, good," Greta says, breathing heavily, not even bothering to look at her handiwork this time. She'll take her voice's word for it that it's a tidy job. There are much more important things demanding her attention. She lets the ersatz scarf fall to the floor (it folds over on itself into a neat little bundle), and then she has one hand buried in Iman's hair and the other drifting up the exposed skin on her thigh. Perhaps that enormous slit in her skirt does serve a practical purpose. "You," she growls in breathless accusation before kissing her.

[etherthief]

"Me," Iman agrees, feeling very proud of herself indeed. Her narration is still going, trying furiously to keep up, more like a sports commentator than ever - but fuck it. She's not listening anymore. She pulls Greta closer, kissing her hard and fast before shifting them around - it's awkward, and the narration notes as such, but that's fine. She keeps a close grip on Greta's waist as she gets them into a more workable position, finally straddling her and leaning over, her hair hanging around them like a curtain.

"Keep doing that," she murmurs, shifting her hand to Greta's, guiding it back up her leg, before pressing in close again.