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applesaucedream2016-06-04 03:14 pm
applesaucemod) wrote in applesaucedream2016-06-04 03:14 pm
Step Right Up! [Open]
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 ofrigged 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.]
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
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.]
so, this asshole
He knocks the door closed to the room he'd been investigating, then returns to stalking the stalls.
He pulls to a stop when he sees a line of air rifles laid out along a booth under a freshly painted wooden sign that says SHOOT THE STAR in bold red capital letters.
"Ah, this is more like it!" He slaps some money down on the counter and waits impatiently while the attendant sets up the gun and explains that the goal is to completely obliterate the red star on the paper at the other end of the range. "No problem. Come on, give me that." The attendant seems more than willing to give him the gun and flee to the other side of the booth.
asshole dream date
His relief to see his partner fixing to shoot up a piece of paper is similarly subdued. He takes his time strolling over, leans against the counter beside the big man with his fingers laced together.
"Mick," he drawls by way of greeting. He nods toward the star, intuiting the game's object with a glance. This is going to be a hot mess, pun absolutely intended. "Never taken you for a sharpshooter."
well that escalated quickly
He sizes up the target and squeezes the trigger. In less than ten seconds, he's lost all of his ammunition and half of the star is still hanging from the goddamn paper. He straightens up and chucks the air rifle back down on the table while the attendant comes over.
"You didn't give me enough bullets."
The guy laughs off the comment nervously and offers Mick another go at the game. Something changes in Mick's posture as he pulls out a couple more bills. He straightens up, and grins. "All I gotta do is get rid of the star?"
The attendant, glad to have a answer that he can pull from a script, goes through the same explanation again while he sets up the air rifle. Only, when he steps away again, Mick reaches for the gun at his hip instead of the one on the table. A bright streak of fire pushes its way across the booth, completely disintegrating the star, the piece of paper, and a significant portion of the booth behind it.
He turns to Len, grinning. "I think I got it, don't you?" The attendant curses and runs off, no doubt for some sort of fire extinguisher.
"Did ya pick out a prize?" The fire is spreading, and he turns back to admire it. "Better get it quick."
no subject
Mick fires quick and hot, like he does, and the surprise is just as quick to replace his raw confidence, and in turn shortly replaced by the Mick Rory brand of indignation, which means something's about to go up in flames. It's a joy to watch. Len straightens up leisurely, taking a short step back to allow for the incipient conflagration.
And there it is. Mick is all pure childlike delight as usual; for his part, Len is just glad this fair is getting off to such a good start. Everyone needs a little taste of chaos once in a while.
He tilts his head up to consider the array of stuffed animals not yet caught up in the blaze. He reaches out and selects a small polar bear with grave ceremony, tucks it under his arm and matches Mick's grin.
"Let's blow," he says with a nod.
no subject
"Sure. Where to?" He follows Len, looking around him as he goes. There are definitely plenty of distractions to choose from. There's the ferris wheel, some ride with carts speeding around a circle of rail that looks like fun, but he doesn't really like the idea of being trapped on a ride at the moment.
In front of them lies some sort of vendor tent. Much more alluring to him are the junk food stands- fried fiery jalapeno poppers, deep fried twinkies and mars bars, giant pickles floating around in giant jars. Fried pickles. This is amazing food.
As they walk by, he lifts a little paper carton filled with fried food from a picnic table. He's not sure what it is, but it's free and fried, which is good enough for him. He takes a bite and discovers a melted chocolatey center. Fantastic.
"Mmm!" He grunts, deep and satisfied. "Try this." He offers the little paper carton towards Len with one hand, the other lifted to his mouth to suck some stray chocolate off of his thumb.
no subject
The man hands him his request and he smiles politely before turning away.
"Um-" the vendor blurts, startled.
"Put it on my tab," says Len, strolling ahead. "So, we've got our fuel, now all we need is some shit to stir."