[open to all] Room full of people in your head

[applesaucemod]

The rift has gotten bored, and has decided it's time to bring people together for another dream party.

This time, when you find yourself within the dream, you'll be somewhere familiar. Perhaps somewhere you feel safe or at home, some place you miss, or were particularly happy at some point in your life. It might not be the same place every time you come back here, though.

There will also be a door where there didn't use to be one, even if there's no wall to surround it. If you go through this door, you will find yourself in endless simple corridor, lined with unmarked doors. And if you go through them, you'll pay a visit to someone else's room.


[There will monthly Dreaming party post like this. Same procedure as last time. Non-members welcome to tag in!]

Comments

[fucking_ebay]

Peter, who had been busy tracing the lines of a poster with his eyes, starts at the voice coming from the doorway. He twists to look at Gabriel, staring at him in utter confusion for several long seconds. Gabriel can't be here. Mum and dad would never let him in.

"You can't come in here," he says when he finally finds his voice again. He's still not sure what's going on, but he knows he doesn't want Gabriel in here.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel stays in the doorway, but he's not going to just fuck off because Peter doesn't want him here. "Where's here? Your bedroom?"

[fucking_ebay]

"Yeah." Peter sits up, swinging his legs off the bed to rest his feet on the floor. Neither of them should be here, he thinks, but when he tries to think why that is, he draws a blank. He feels like he hasn't been in this room for a very long time, but that can't be right -- it's his room.

"I said, you're not allowed in here," he tells Gabriel gruffly, Scottish accent bleeding through the English one he puts on more noticeably than it usually does. Were he more aware, he'd probably be grateful he hasn't turned entirely into his eight-year-old self. As it is, he just can't understand how this wanker got into the house.

[has_a_horn]

"Sorry to break it to ya, but this is a dream, kiddo." As if that somehow allows him into Peter's personal space, he stays leaning in the doorway. "Nice dino sheets." He smiles, amused and a little charmed.

[fucking_ebay]

"No it isn't," scoffs Peter, even as his hands tense, fingers curling into the edge of the bed. This isn't a dream. This is real. This isn't a dream, because that would mean --

He doesn't live here anymore. The realization hits him hard, and he actually gasps as he looks around the room again, light dawning in his eyes. He hasn't lived here since he was eight, and he sure as hell isn't anywhere near eight years old anymore. "Shit," he says feelingly.

[has_a_horn]

Aw, now he really is sorry for breaking it to him. "You alright there?"

[fucking_ebay]

Peter rubs his face hard with one hand, seeing the room in a new light. Turning a baleful eye on Gabriel, he growls, "Get out."

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, not moving, but not coming any further in either. "Why?"

[fucking_ebay]

"Because I don't need any of your supernatural shit in here. Not in here," replies Peter, lips pressing tight after he's done talking. He stands, and is surprised by how small everything suddenly seems.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel holds up his hands, showing them to be empty of any and all supernatural funny business. "Nothing up my sleeve. Unless you want a change of scenery. I could do that. Or..." He nods his head towards the hallway. "There's a Karaoke bar next door."

[fucking_ebay]

Peter makes a face, righteous anger suddenly giving way to petulant distaste. "Karaoke?" he asks incredulously. "Oh, shoot me now. Come on, we're getting out of here, I never liked this room anyway -- and we're not doing bloody karaoke."

[has_a_horn]

"You don't have to do karaoke to enjoy it." He sighs petulantly before moving out of the doorway and gesturing down the hall. "But by all means, lead the way."

Okay, so he's mostly letting Peter lead the way because these rooms seem to pick up on the mind of whoever's in there first, but sure, let Peter think it's because he's allowing him options.

[fucking_ebay]

"If I wanted to listen to talentless idiots, I'd watch American Idol," grumbles Peter, leading the way without hesitation. He doesn't know any better, but surely he can find something less objectionable than karaoke. He inadvertently makes a beeline for Gabriel's door anyway, not realizing he's leading them right into the trap he was trying to avoid.

[has_a_horn]

Only, when Peter opens the door, the room that had been a karaoke bar has transformed. Gabriel nearly curses or switches it back, but he knows either would give the game away. Now they're in a dim room with stone walls. There's bright afternoon sunlight streaming in through a window lighting up a worktable, and a small bed propped against the opposite wall.

Gabriel could tell him that this is a monastery, but he'd rather get Peter out of here before he starts asking questions. "Boring. Okay, not karaoke. Lounge, maybe? Minus the terrible singers."

[fucking_ebay]

Peter leans in through the doorway, eying the room with a disdainful (if mildly curious) air. "The hell is this place?" he asks. He doesn't mean this room specifically -- or he does, but as part of the larger environment, including the hallway and other doors. "Did you do this?"

[has_a_horn]

"Does this look like my kind of place?" He'd misinterpreted Peter's question, but he goes on to explain anyway. "No. Not this one, not responsible for your little dino sheets either."

[fucking_ebay]

"I was eight years old," grumbles Peter, finally stepping back from the door. Whatever that room is, Gabriel's right -- it's boring. "Why the fuck do you keep ending up in my head?" he asks irritably as he stalks off down the hall toward another door.

[has_a_horn]

"If I recall correctly, the last time this happened, it was you in my head." He happily closes the door on the monastery and follows Peter down the hall. "And I don't think this counts as either."

[fucking_ebay]

"Shared dream, you said," Peter corrects him, though it's clear even to Peter that he has no idea what he's talking about. He crosses the hall and opens another door, deciding that even karaoke night would be less hellishly boring than talking in the hall with Gabriel.

He's not prepared for what he sees on the other side. "This one isn't mine," he tells Gabriel immediately.

[theoldgirl]

On the other side, not far from the door, the TARDIS is still swinging idly on the porch swing, two colorful butterflies having taken up residence in her hair. When she feels the two visitors peek inside, a cloud of butterflies lifts from the flowers into the sky. Recognizing one of the minds, her face lights up in a pleased smile and she gives a welcoming wave.

[has_a_horn]

"It's the TARDIS," he provides for Peter and walks in, waving back while at the same time giving Peter a tug to follow him in. "You didn't show me this on the tour," he says when they reach her. "Very impressive."

[fucking_ebay]

And of course Gabriel still manages to know what's going on. "That's not even a word," Peter mutters, though he allows himself to be brought along, eying the butterflies with distaste.

[theoldgirl]

Her smile turns into a slight smirk directed at Gabriel when they come closer. "I prefer to keep a few surprises to myself." Mostly she just hadn't thought he would be that interested in the butterfly room, being somewhat mundane compared to the more alien things she could show him. So she's pleased to see he likes it.

Which can not be said of Gabriel's friend, and she deigns him with a much cooler look, sensing his distaste for her butterflies. Normally humans love this place, this just won't do. "Are you Peter?" Because if there's another human running around with the Doctor's face besides the one he's told her about, this universe is officially ridiculous.

[has_a_horn]

"Good surprise," he allows. Sure, he had been more interested in the alien things he could show her, but this is nice too.

He can't help but smirk at Peter's distasteful expression, but he's going to let him speak for himself. That's always more amusing, anyway.

[fucking_ebay]

"Am I the only person who doesn't know what the fuck is going on here?" asks Peter petulantly. He might have held it in if he'd taken a moment to look at the woman whose room this apparently is; he realizes only a moment too late that he might at least try not to turn an attractive new acquaintance off himself.

Belatedly, he decides to play it cool. "Peter Vincent," he confirms, willing himself to be well-dressed. He hadn't paid much mind to what he'd been wearing before, but it hadn't mattered before. He gives her what he supposes is a suave smile as his ratty jacket becomes a flowing black coat and -- yep, there's the eyeliner. "And who are you?"