Paper Faces on Parade

[applesaucemod]

The residents of Manhattan will once again find themselves drawn into the currents of the rift when they sleep tonight. Once again, too, the rift is drawing in people from other worlds, both those who might one day find themselves pulled through in waking life and those who might yet escape its grasp.

Tonight, it seems, a celebration is in order. The ballroom of a country manor is the setting for tonight's gathering. Wood and marble gleam in the gas lighting, and a bar at one end of the room provides the, ahem, social lubricant some guests may require. At the other end, a staircase leads to a walkway that runs the entire parameter of the room, allowing guests to watch the dancing from above. While the party is localized in the ballroom, who knows what secret passages and hidden ways a grand old house like this one might conceal?

Those who appear here will find themselves wearing a disguise on arrival. Should the rift cause one to appear in a costume not of their liking (as it is fairly likely to do), an enormous wardrobe can be found through a door near the bar. In it, guests will find a seemingly infinite assortment of costumes and masks of all sizes and varieties ready for their use.


[Mod note: Usual dream-party rules apply. Both members and non-members are welcome to use any character, be they already in the game or no, and players can choose whether to have their characters remember this in the morning.]

Comments

[fucking_ebay]

...And there's another familiar voice he didn't want to hear tonight. Peter's shoulders tense and he pauses a moment before he turns back.

"Tell that -- that friend of yours to stay the fuck away from me," he says in lieu of a standard greeting.

[has_a_horn]

"What-" He nearly asks what friend, but there's really nobody else Peter could be talking about, could he? It's with a weary and annoyed voice that he asks, "What happened?"

[fucking_ebay]

"She tried to set me on fire!" squawks Peter, as if this should be self evident. What else does the TARDIS do in the Dreaming but set things on fire around Peter? Gabriel's lucky he ran into him so soon afterward; in another twenty minutes Peter would be going on about how the TARDIS actually did set him on fire.

[has_a_horn]

If his mask weren't very much in the way, he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose right about now. "What the hell did you do to her?" Because he's assuming that Peter did something to deserve being lit on fire, whether it was successful or not. He knows that neither of them are likely to have been civil, but he's willing to bet it was Peter who tipped the scale into the realm of violence rather than the other way 'round.

[fucking_ebay]

"I didn't do anything," he snaps, honestly a bit hurt that Gabriel would immediately take the TARDIS's side after being told she lit Peter on fire. "Her stupid dress got in the way and made me spill my drink, and then she went batshit on me."

[has_a_horn]

Peter, you're already forgetting the tried to part. And he's really going to need some more clarification before he believes anything that he has to say. "Her dress made you spill your drink?"

[fucking_ebay]

The intent was there, she might as well have done it. "Does it matter?" he asks incredulously. "She set me on fire."

[has_a_horn]

"What did she set on fire?" He looks Peter up and down, looking for the supposed damage. "You don't exactly look crispy-fried to me."

[fucking_ebay]

"It's a dream, isn't it?" demands Peter, voice rising in pitch as he finds himself caught out. He looks off down the stairs, corners of his mouth drawing down, and reluctantly adds, "It was a napkin. She set a napkin on fire." Knowing it's not impressive enough, he points at Gabriel and adds sharply, "When it was in my hand!"

[has_a_horn]

"Oh the horror." He tips his head towards him and gives him a good you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look. "And I'm sure you were being a complete gentleman."

[fucking_ebay]

And here he was looking for a little bit of sympathy from someone who ought to have some idea by now that the TARDIS really does have it in for him. "You know what? Fuck you. Just...fuck both of you, I never asked to be included in your weird little friendship."

[has_a_horn]

Maybe Peter should put a little more thought into why the TARDIS seems to have it in for him. "No, you didn't. You were invited to tag along and then mouthed off enough to drive one hell of a wedge into that weird little friendship. You want me to feel sorry for you?"

Gabriel lifts a hand to pull off his own mask. He feels a bit silly trying to get through to Peter without facial expression. "You know what? I do. Because I understand just what that Fuck You attitude is all about. But that doesn't mean I'm going to make allowances for you being a giant dick."

[fucking_ebay]

Peter, on the other hand, is glad to keep his mask right where it is. He can feel his face heating up -- so Gabriel thinks he understands? Fuck that noise. "I don't need your pity," he growls, trying not to reveal just how uncomfortable this turn in the conversation has made him.

[has_a_horn]

"What do you need? That pesky missing puzzle piece you're looking for?" Gabriel takes a step closer to him on the stair, but he's not doing any prodding. He learned his lesson last time about spooking Peter being bad for all involved. "If it's friends, you're doing a really shitty job of it."

[fucking_ebay]

Scowl. "I need my damned life back," he retorts. He'd been fine -- money, fame, even a couple people who could stand his company. Then he'd been yanked into some shithole of another world and told he had to start from the bottom up all over again. There's Lucy, but every time he thinks about settling in and doing the best he can with this place and the people he's met here, it feels too much like giving up on what he had before. "If you can't give me that, what good's your friendship?"

[has_a_horn]

Just excuse him while he's stunned silent by the spite and total bullshit behind that statement. He's surprised that it actually hurts to hear. Since when did he get fond of this asshole?

"Right. Good luck on getting a life, asshole." And what more is there to say? He almost feels like lashing out at Peter, but that'd only give him more fuel for his arguments. Instead, he pushes past Peter and out into the crowd of people, slipping his mask back on as he goes.

[fucking_ebay]

Peter is very, very good at not making friends. It's a skill he's honed over decades, and Gabriel is just one of many people he's chased off. Of course, most people (at least those who aren't paid to spend time with him) give up after the first time or two they talk to him.

And maybe that's why he feels like shit right now instead of the vindictive triumph he'd expect to get from finally getting Gabe to back off. He stays rooted where he is, turning to look around for a moment like he's thinking of seeking out Lucy -- and then thinks fuck it. The TARDIS can be right about one thing tonight; he doesn't want to fucking be here anymore. Closing his eyes, he concentrates...and a few moments later he vanishes from the dream as he wakes up.