Step Right Up! [Open]

[applesaucemod]

It might be winter in the waking world, but tonight, the dreamers will find themselves wrapped in the warmth of a blazing August afternoon. Here, it is summer - and what's more, the Carnival has come to town!

Whatever the dreamer's tastes, there should be something to amuse them. There are rides that tend towards the rickety, wooden end of the spectrum, a petting zoo occupied - for the most part - by tolerant farm animals, food stalls selling every kind of carnival faire you'd imagine, and an arcade full of rigged games. Inquisitive dreamers might find that some of the wares tend towards the esoteric, and some of the stalls might seem a little out of place, but it's all the sort of thing that might show up in a carnival somewhere. Look, no one's perfect.

Overall, though, it's a modest set-up. The once brightly colored canvas has been faded by the sun, and the paint is peeling in a few places. But the gentle wear lends everything an air of comfort (as opposed to an air of a lawsuit waiting to happen). Whether you're riding the ferris wheel, petting a goat, or trying to win a stuffed animal the size of a small child, the only harm the dreamers can expect is the kind they might dole out themselves.



[OOC: oh, you all know the drill by now.]

Comments

[rae_of_sun]

Her little Spike-compass doesn't seem to work in dreams - possibly because, in the real world, he's right next to her more often than not. Whatever said compass tunes in to, she's pretty sure it's more about his physical location and not his... what, psychic one?

Her counter-affinity never accounted for weird shared dreams. Go figure.

But one side-effect of working in the restaurant business, and of being a little too used to being watched - however many months in Manhattan hasn't erased the memories of the months she spent under the careful eye of SOF while they waited for her to do something interesting - is that you notice when someone's focused on you.

And that goes double when the someone is your boyfriend. Even without her personal history, she'd hope she'd notice him sizing her up. She bites back a smirk, more acutely aware than usual of how much skin she's currently showing, and lets him sneak up on her. Once he leans into her sightline, she stops bothering to hide her grin.

"A few things," she replies, reaching out to give his tank top a light, incredulous tug. Look at him, branching out into actual colors. "Nice shirt."

[erratic_hematic]

"You too." Spike settles a hand at her hip and steps in close. It's more than the clothes that make her look good today. She seems more energized, more alive than usual. Must be her magic- the opposite of winter blues lighting her from within. He dips his head to kiss her cheek, then pulls back to return his attention to the wares on display. "Summer suits you."

A small smile ghosts over his lips and then returns, both fond and amused. "What are these, necklaces?" He fiddles one that had a few small bones attached. "Don't think I'd want half a chicken hanging around my neck."

[rae_of_sun]

She smiles at the kiss, leaning into it a little. "It really does," she says wryly. Too bad she can't get it in the waking world - though dream summer is better than nothing. It feels real.

"Uh, they're--" is as far as she gets before Spike starts to reach for one, and the shock of it cuts her short. Categorically speaking, charms aren't for vampires - or not for their benefit, anyway. They're nowhere near on par with a ward, say, but since they're generally well-meaning, and vampires generally aren't - and since nothing here is on the same level as Con's Tasteless Cabinet of Surprisingly High-Quality Curios - Sunshine isn't sure how any of them would take to being... handled... by a vampire. Even a vampire lite. Oh, gods, what if it combusts or something? She would have warned him, if it had occurred to her that any vampire would casually reach for a charm in the first place.

It doesn't combust. But it does twitch in Spike's grasp, and let out a high-pitched trill of objection that makes her wince. "... Charms," she finishes, touching Spike's arm. "You might... not want to touch them." They seem pretty well secured to their displays, and none of them should be that live, yet. But if Spike is vampire enough to set them off, they might decide to collectively do something stupid, anyway.

She slides her free arm around his waist and leans against him, like a nonverbal apology for the feathered whammy's rude behavior. "They're sort of... well, they're not wards. Wards are to charms what an elite private security detail is to, like, one of those little fluffy dogs that thinks it's big. They're mostly for things like... not getting lost on the way home from school, or keeping your milk fresh for a week past its expiration date. They like to be helpful." She looks up at Spike with a faint, sheepish smile. "They're not super bright, generally speaking. But I think they can tell you're a vampire." She speaks the last word in a conspiratorial undertone, mostly so the salesperson won't overhear it and start getting twitchy and shrieky, too.