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

[fucking_ebay]

It's a bird! It's a bug! No, it's a tiny bat in search of somewhere to survey the situation and make sure he's out of reach of anything large and toothy. Daine finally got him flying, so at least he's not stuck crawling around on the part of the playground where he originally found himself, but flying as a bat turns out to be a tricky series of constant course corrections. He doesn't realize he's been losing altitude until it's too late and the ground is rushing up to meet him. With a nearly inaudible squeak, Peter tumbles through the grass, coming to a stop on the ground near something -- someone -- very large and white.

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS almost doesn't notice the little creature before stepping on it, but she stops herself just in time, hoof raised inches above it. With a surprised huff, she steps back and lowers her head to inspect the furry thing. When she recognizes the mind, she lets out another puff of air, this time distinctly disdainful-sounding, and her tail twitches in irritation. "Oh, you."

[fucking_ebay]

A shadow falls over him and Peter has just enough time to look up and squeak before --

Oh, good. Not stepping on him. That's...that's preferable. He starts crawling away, but he's slow and clumsy like this, and within moments there's a big white horse face looming over him. He sniffs in return, not recognizing her in the slightest. "Mind watching where you put those feet?" he asks snidely.

[theoldgirl]

He is just unbelievable, isn't he. He hasn't said two sentences and already she can feel her anger flaring up, remembering what he did to her friendship with Gabriel. She snorts forcefully, close enough to nearly blow him over. "You ought to mind your tone, particularly in that form." Seriously, anything could squish him like this.

[fucking_ebay]

He's so small and lightweight that it's only his low-slung shape that saves him from going tumbling. He's painfully aware of what could happen to him right now, especially since he's on the ground and he's apparently found someone who already hates him rather than someone who has yet to realize she does. Thinking fast, Peter swipes at her with a wing, trying to catch the claw of his thumb on her face so he can climb up and get out from underfoot.

[theoldgirl]

Argh no what is this tiny sharp claw in the sensitive skin of her nose, that is not okay. She throws her head up in dismay, though she stops herself from fully trying to shake him off. Even in a dream she might actually hurt him if she sends him hurtling through the air with the full force of her mind. So she resigns herself to angrily nodding her head up and down, giving him a good shake to make her displeasure known. "What are you doing?"

[fucking_ebay]

Here, have more claws in your nose -- it occurs to Peter belatedly that this might not end much better than staying on the ground where she could step on him, but he's committed to this course of action now and does his best to latch on with both thumbs and feet. "You're not stepping on me!" he tells her determinedly.

[theoldgirl]

At the additional claw-pricks she huffs out bursts of hot hair through her nostrils, but ceases her head bobbing as she realizes that's probably not helping to get him off. "I am not going to!" she shoots back exasperatedly. "How many times do I have to tell you I won't harm you? Now get off!" This is ridiculous and she won't have it.

[fucking_ebay]

Oh, good. He was really starting to worry he was going to get thrown off if she kept it up. He doesn't loosen his grip, not trusting her not to start again. "How many times...?" he repeats, confused. Who would have -- oh. Oh. "Shit, you're that -- that TARDIS, aren't you?"

Not someone he wanted to run into anytime soon. He turns to try to look down and behind him, and gulps. The worst part of flying, he's discovered, is letting go and trusting he can actually do it. "I can't," he informs her tersely.

[theoldgirl]

"Yes," she hisses at his question, her tail flicking from side to side like a whip. She can tell he really is scared of her, but after everything he's done, she can't be bothered to be particularly sympathetic.

At his refusal she bobs her head again, once, in annoyance. "What do you mean? You have wings." She stomps a hoof impatiently. "I am not going to ask a second time."

[fucking_ebay]

"I have hands pretending to be wings!" he snaps, losing his grip with one thumb and scrabbling to get it back. "Put your head near --" he nearly says the ground, but remembers he really doesn't want to be down there. "--Near something so I can get off."

[theoldgirl]

Oh this is pathetic. She's sorely tempted to just scrape him off on her own foreleg, but that would likely be painful to both of them and she's not actually that cruel. So with another angry snort she starts trotting towards the nearest tree, not caring about his comfort during the rocky movement.

"You ought to do everyone a favor and wake up," she comments disdainfully, because he clearly isn't enjoying this dream (as usual) and she doubts there's anyone here who would enjoy his company either.

[fucking_ebay]

He was enjoying it just fine until she nearly stepped on him and started telling him off -- and that vaguely familiar Daine person had been exceptionally nice to him, actually, and puzzled him by inspiring him to be nice tolerable in return. "Wake up?" he asks, confused as hell. "Would you slow do -- AAH!"

The trouble with a horse's face is that short of puncturing the flesh (which his tiny claws would be hard-pressed to do), it's really not all that great in terms of claw-holds. With each jarring step, Peter feels his grip becoming more and more tenuous until he slips right off and tumbles toward her enormous, bat-crushing hooves. He flaps furiously, no concrete thought in his head beyond 'UP!'

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS doesn't even notice he's slipping until he falls off, which tickles her nose in such a bothersome way that she's distracted for a split-second. Her leg bumps against him hard and she flinches back mid-trot, trying to bring her hooves down away from him. But she's too startled and the complicated motion makes her trip over her many legs, nearly bringing her down.

She does manage to stumble to a halt without falling though, and after shaking her head once in response to the shock she turns around to scan the grass for a sign of the tiny bat. "Peter?" she asks with the smallest tinge of worry, for the moment afraid that she actually trampled him.

[fucking_ebay]

It's a bad start from an awkward position, but there's enough bat in his brain that Peter gets himself upright midair and fills his wings with wind...just as the TARDIS's leg comes forward and hits him like a giant wall of bony flesh. Any chance he had at staying airborne is dashed, the wing on the side she hit crumpling and sending him falling like a very small stone. His impact is cushioned a little by the grass, but there's little more he can do than lay there, dazed, as enormous hooves impact the ground around him.

By some miracle, she misses him. Peter groans and reaches up to rub his head, but hisses in pain and stops moving again even before he can realize the motion doesn't work very well with wings. "So much for not hurting me," he says with a bitter laugh.

[theoldgirl]

Having heard and spotted the tiny creature, her moment of worry dissipates and is replaced by customary irritation at him, made worse by the fact that he'd nearly made her fall. She snorts in disdain at his over-dramatic reply before bringing her head close to the ground again. "It was an accident. You fell off." It's certainly not her fault that he failed to hold on properly.

[fucking_ebay]

"You kicked me!" he argues, trying to turn over and get off his back. "Fuck!" he hisses when it proves too painful. He's silent for several long moments as he tries to figure out what to do. What can he do? He can't move, and she's either going to stomp on him or she isn't, even if he doesn't reveal that he's hurt.

"...I think I broke something," he admits.

[theoldgirl]

She does wonder why he hasn't moved into a more dignified position and why his delightful stream of expletives suddenly ceases. But at his admission she only lets out a put-upon sigh, which translates as a long stream of air from her nostrils that shakes the grass around him, showing no real concern.

"This is a dream," she informs him haughtily. "Just heal yourself." Okay, so she may be conveniently forgetting that he couldn't even change his clothes properly last time.

[fucking_ebay]

He shudders, feeling like she's going to eat him or something. Unicorns are basically horses, though, right? They can't eat bats.

"It -- oh." It's news to Peter that this isn't real, but, "That explains a lot."

Peter draws in a breath and holds it, concentrating. His sore ribs protest, and he can't feel any changes -- he tries to move again to be sure, but it's just as bad as it was before.

[theoldgirl]

Horses may not eat bats, but they still have an imposing set of teeth. Not that she's going to bite him, or actually leave him lying in the grass with imaginary broken bones. He'd have to piss her off even worse than he already did to push her into being that vindictive.

Which doesn't mean he can expect her help without asking for it nicely. "Well?" she asks impatiently, shaking her head slightly at the overall fact that she's having to put up with this.

[fucking_ebay]

He lets out the breath he's been holding, pulling off the closest thing to a wince a bat can manage. "Not working," he informs her, terse from the (imagined) pain. "Shit," he curses, feeling extremely sorry for himself. Is this it? If he can't heal himself....

[theoldgirl]

What a pitiful heap of insufferable human this is. She still isn't feeling sympathetic, not really, but there's also no reason to let him suffer any longer.

"Perhaps you would like to ask for my assistance?" she tells him derisively. Because remember how she'd controlled the butterflies, and knew Gabriel had changed his own room, and set his teddy bear on fire? She kind of has a lot of power in the dreamspace.

[fucking_ebay]

"Are you offering?" he asks dryly. Now that he thinks of it, though...that's right, she did that thing with the butterflies, and she set his bear on fire. She could set him on fire as well heal him, couldn't she? He licks his nose, uncomfortable with the idea but more uncomfortable with laying here until someone steps on him and puts him out of his misery. "Help me?" he requests.

[theoldgirl]

That's probably as nice as he's ever likely to get, so she takes a step back and lowers her horn to tap lightly on his belly. It's not strictly necessary, she could heal him with a thought, but that doesn't mean she can't show off a little. That done, she huffs at him again, waiting for some appropriate gratitude.

[fucking_ebay]

She's going to gore him! Wait, no. With just that little tap, the pain flows right out of him, leaving Peter whole. Surprised, he rolls over, pleased to find that he has full range of motion back, even if it's limited to a bat's full range.

"...Thanks," he says grudgingly, knowing she could have left him like that. Hey, at least he didn't grab onto her horn while it was within reach.