It's Saturday night and you're hallucinating in your sleep!

[applesaucemod]

It's that time again! The rift has caught the good little dreamers of New York (and beyond) in its currents and washed them ashore on a desert island in a dream wonderland. This time, however, quite a noticeable change has come over each of the attendees of this nocturnal party.

All the people who arrive in this shared mindspace will find that they have been transformed into some sort of animal they find familiar or that resembles them. They will find that they can still communicate with one another and that they still have all their mental faculties, but might be a little…well…influenced by the forms they have taken on.

They will also find that they have been deposited in the middle of the largest, most elaborate playground they have ever seen. Climbing equipment and slides of the sort meant for human children are in evidence, but so are cat trees, meadows, tunnels, pools and ponds, aerial obstacle courses, and anything else the mind can imagine, for as far as the eye can see.



[OOC: The usual dream party rules apply: players apply the party's theme (in this case, transformation) to their characters according to their own discretion, and both members and non-members are more than welcome to use this post to try out characters not yet in the game. Usual dreaming rules also apply, in that players can choose whether or not their characters will remember this in the morning. Have at!]

Comments

[raisedbycarnies]

A common kestrel he may be, but a bird of prey still qualifies as an apex predator. However, Clint Barton is distinctly not. He's somewhere in the middle and has often served as a chew toy.

Besides, there's one thing you learn quickly when you grow up in a circus and that's when to run because a townie's decided you've worn out your welcome and means to remind you of it with a thrown brick.

Carefully, he pretends not to notice the minute sounds beneath him.

[antitimelord]

He calculates that the falcon is too far up the tree to be reached before it could take wing, and the branches too delicate for him to stalk close to it even if he quietly scaled a tree. Oh well, it probably wasn't a very tasty bird anyway. He'll settle for learning more about the mind inside it, perhaps for later when it's in a less flighty form.

"Little bird, I've a terrible toothache, won't you come down and look in my jaws?"

[raisedbycarnies]

"No, I'm pretty sure I've read this fairytale and it doesn't end well for the nice little birdy," Clint replies, thinking he'll just keep himself nice and high up here.

It's always better to see from a distance.

[antitimelord]

"Really I just wanted to spare myself a crick in the neck. Have you read a lot of fairytales, then?" He tries on an engaging feline grin. "My references to them go woefully unappreciated most of the time." A light scenting of the mental breeze says the little falcon might be able to relate.

[raisedbycarnies]

"What can I say? Grew up in a circus."

The grin isn't very engaging when he can see how many teeth his conversational partner has.

[antitimelord]

That's alright, he suspected as much. "Does growing up in a circus make you more prone to fairytales, or spending time in trees?"

[raisedbycarnies]

"Yes," he replies.

What he wouldn't give for a bow. And thumbs.

[antitimelord]

"Not very chatty, are you? Should have been a parrot instead. What are you when you aren't a bird?" He feels like he's asking a particularly clumsy riddle. When is a bird not a bird? Probably never. On some level he's aware that that logic wouldn't hold daylight.

[raisedbycarnies]

"Polly wants a cracker?"

Clint shrugs more with his wings than his shoulders.

"What are you when you aren't trying to eat me?"