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

[omnomnom_feels]

:The arrival of any given mortal is no cause for fanfare, or even particular notice...provided, of course, that the mortal in question is not Iman Asadi or one of her retinue. In the old days, Nhodd would hardly have replied to such a taunt at all. Now he responds as though he were little more than a mudman himself.:

"I have no fear of magic," Rashad sneers, incensed by the voice's accusation...but unable to prevent himself from fulfilling it. "And that name was not spoken."

[worth_it]

"Um," Draco's brow furrows in mock confusion, "of course it was. I just said it." He sweeps around in a little circle for the sole purpose of showing off his dress robes (which are more or less identical to his school robes, but swooshier). "Duh."

:As far as Draco is concerned, his arrival is always cause for fanfare, even if he has to provide it himself.:

Draco gives the empty air a knowing smile. His voice knows what's what. He smirks at the stranger, then gestures upwards as if to say, you see?

:He's not sure what's going on with this person, though. Magic isn't news to him, but 'mudman' is a little too far off the mark, slang-wise. Perhaps he's some sort of beastly American. Draco almost feels sorry for him.:

[omnomnom_feels]

"It was not spoken before you spoke it," Rashad informs him tartly. "That is the question you asked when you spoke it. The answer was no."

:In the old days he would not have felt the need to bother with such trifling contradictions. Now, though, Nhodd feels a burning desire to ensure that this young creature is aware that his statement is incorrect.:

[worth_it]

:Draco wrinkles his nose, unimpressed by all this Ravenclaw nonsense. It's boring. His magical voice's comments are a bit more interesting, but they're also a bit more rude.:

"'Creature'?" Draco repeats, puffing up like an angry cat. "I'll have you know that I come from one of the oldest wizarding families with the purest blood in all of England. No!" He points at the fellow - Nhodd. "The entire world!"

:So there. Granted, Draco might technically be part elf, but--:

"Augh!" Draco staggers back a pace as if he's been physically struck, then stares up at the ceiling, aghast. "You--!" He almost finishes with 'betrayed me,' but no, he can still salvage this. He scowls at Nhodd. "That... that is not even a little bit true," he says, straightening his robes purposefully.

[omnomnom_feels]

:The reaction is confusing. Where Nhodd came from, being a common man would be a point of pride only in comparison to being a beastman. Elvish blood was always desirable among mortals. That he selected a common man for his own form had been intended as a sign of Nhodd's abiding humility.:

"All mortals are common and impure," Rashad informs the boy primly. He glowers at the thin air; it was not his intention to show any indication that he is other than his shell appears. "I do not think less of you for having elvish blood. I also do not think more of you."

[worth_it]

There is a startled pause from both Draco and his narrator before the latter ventures, :He doesn't think less of him?:

Draco frowns, more thoughtfully this time. Perhaps he's misjudged this Nhodd fellow. "What are you, then?" he asks with only a fraction of his customary haughtiness.

[omnomnom_feels]

:He also does not think more of him. That portion of his statement remains important. Nhodd is reluctant to share the truth, but perhaps this young creature will show rare quality and treat the revelation with the gravity it should command.:

"I am an angel," says Rashad, sulking.