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

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!]

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Considering the TARDIS doesn't want to have anything to do with him and Peter actually chased down Gabriel the last time they met, 'stalking' would be a pretty strong term for how the two of them are treating him. It's how it feels to him right now, though, given how often he seems to run into the pair and how long it always takes to extricate himself.

"I did, actually," he says, sounding a little surprised even to recall it. "The first time I met her, in a dream." Because the idea of teleporting in dreams felt fairly safe, right up until he appeared in Lucy's bed.

"Dream teleportation probably has less chance of serious consequences," she answers with a nod. "No idea if mine works in dreams." She hasn't really had cause to try. Or if she has, she doesn't remember it.

"Unless I teleport myself out of bed," Peter points out, surprised she didn't say it first.

"...Well, there is that," Lucy answers. "Perhaps trying to do it while awake is best after all. At least then you have some idea of where you are and where you're going that actually corresponds to reality."

"Maybe."

It's the closest Peter's come to agreeing with any of the people who have been telling him to learn how to control his power. He falls silent, mulling it over. He remembers their previous conversation about it, and it's becoming clearer and clearer that knowing how to use it would both stop him from killing himself with it and allow him to use it for getaways. That doesn't mean he likes the idea of deliberately teleporting, though.

Lucy waits, but Peter doesn't seem to have more to say. It's a step forward, though, 'maybe' instead of 'definitely not'. Lucy has gotten quite a bit of perks from controlling her power, despite being rather iffy about it at first. When he remains quiet, she nudges him a bit with her nose again. "Come on, hop on. Let's go explore."

"I've been exploring," he complains, but he does as he's told, clambering up over her nose and between her eyes. Anyone watching and unaware of their true nature would think she must be the most incompetent snake in the world to let such a perfectly bite-sized animal crawl about on her head.

"Well, I haven't," she answers, waiting while Peter climbs on and gets himself situated. Then she slowly starts sliding down from net, taking care every time she passes under something to have proper clearing so she doesn't just knock Peter off. "My eyesight is a bit terrible, by the way, but I doubt bats have much better. And unfortunately I don't know what unicorns smell like." Great big horse should be fairly noticable, though.

"Like horse shit," supplies Peter, though it's really not true. Generally horsey would be more accurate, though it was (irritatingly enough) more pleasant than the smell of a real horse. He clings to Lucy's head, careful to keep his claws away from her eyes, and lets out a squeak as he remembers. "I can do that thing," he says, sounding pleased with himself. "That thing bats do, seeing with their ears or whatever."

"Well, I... have no ears currently, so honestly I have no idea how I'm even hearing you, but I'm trying not to think about that," she answers. "Then again I doubt bats or snakes could talk even if they had the brains." Whatever made them into animals obviously gave them the ability to communicate without the use of mouths, so why should they need ears?

"...Seriously?" Peter can't help but shift around and look for her ears. Shouldn't there at least be little holes or something? "What the fuck, nature?"

"Well, I can hear sort of... hear vibrations and things," she answers, slipping smoothly into the grass. She keeps her head slightly elevated so Peter won't get blades of grass hitting him in the face. "I don't know, it's weird. But I can smell everything. ...With my tongue." She's trying just to go with it here. "You think you have it weird, at least you have the right amount of limbs. And eyelids."

"...Here's hoping you don't smell Miss Horse-Shit," says Peter, mentally making a face. "And I don't have the right number of limbs; there's this tail sticking out of my arse, and someone's attached my arms to my hips."

"Close enough, though," she answers with an amused mental smirk. "I practically am tail, so you don't get to complain. Plus, you can fly. That's perk enough, isn't it?" What can she do as a snake? Slither? Bite? That's about it.

"I can complain about whatever I want," Peter informs her primly. He squeaks and listens to the echo, then sniffs the air, turns his head, and does it again. "There's a bunch of cat trees ahead," he informs her. "I was over there earlier."

Lucy can feel the squeak more than she can hear it, though it doesn't tell her anything. Echolocation's not her thing.

"Cat trees. I really want to see the manager of this place. If there is one," she comments, changing her course a little. She's smelling for other animals.

"You'll have to take it up with the rift," shrugs Peter. "What do snakes even do, anyway? Obviously we're not going climbing."

Forgetting, naturally, that she had climbed that net before he got there.

"I can climb easily enough," she answers. "Some snakes burrow, but I don't think this one does. Or swim, for that matter."

"I don't think bats swim," supplies Peter quickly, really not wanting to find out for himself.

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

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