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

[thresh_prince]

"Oh well that's comforting to know." It isn't, but her delivery is; awkward, stiff, but very sincere. She definitely reminds him of a certain jadeblood, though of course that sartorial abomination would never fly with Kanaya.

He's more than tearing up now, and his voice cracks wildly. "Seriously. That feeling of universal insignificance is like a warm fuzzy blanket. What a unique opportunity to have my entire life stomped to shitty smears and have it not even be personal! Maybe you should quit your night job, take up the human practice of 'therapy.'" His shoulders are shaking. "Have you even met my universe?"

[theoldgirl]

Considering the amount of people she's had come to her for comfort and an open ear, especially lately, she really isn't that far from a human therapist. Which is luckily why she gets the feeling that this is more about him needing to give voice to his frustration and having someone listen, than about insulting her with his sarcasm, or about expecting her to say something helpful that would suddenly solve everything.

"No, I have not," she admits calmly. "But I have 'met' many other universes, and in none of them is a single life insignificant." Undaunted by his trembling and crying, and encouraged by the fact that he hasn't shaken off her hand, she takes another step closer to put her arm around his shoulders. She's not quite forward enough for a hug, foreign species and all, but she wants to offer the option. "Whatever is hurting you, it isn't something so impossible to overcome as the universe itself."

[thresh_prince]

Similarly, he's not quite forward enough to cling to this strange yet comforting human like a limpet-monkey hybrid, though the temptation is there. Dave can be pretty openly reassuring at times, but they're usually too busy being assholes; it's something he values, but Dave is not the late nite drive thru emotional sincerity restaurant he is looking for. And Kanaya just has too much drunken human matesprite bullshit on her plate, which he can't really hold against her. He can't actually remember the last time he was able to accept comfort from anyone on any real level, and that's just a giant clusterfuck of unending awful. He doesn't cling, but he does sort of just huddle a little under her arm. It's not very noticeable. Probably.

He sniffles and tries not to asphyxiate on his own loathing for himself and pretty much every situation he's ever been in. "The universe was only ever against me semi-metaphorically. The indestructible time-travelling demon from the end of the universe is against me in pretty much the standard non fucking metaphorical way." Which doesn't even get into the problems of Batterwitches, ghost armies, grimbark spacewitches, or Crockertier Nannas. Or even just the social trainwreck his life has been since everyone jumped into a quadrant with everyone else on the meteor. Maybe he should be grateful for getting fork culled on the spot.

[theoldgirl]

Almost imperceptible huddling is definitely a start, and she tugs him in a little closer. Which is probably also barely noticeable. Taking note of his sniffling, she appearifies a tissue and offers it to him. What he has to say about his universe is pretty distressing and she nods in understanding.

"I do wish my pilot and I could help you. We are quite experienced with that sort of thing. I'm sure it isn't entirely indestructible - nothing is."

[thresh_prince]

He takes the tissue with a very self conscious lack of good grace. He doesn't even question where she got it from. Who even fucking cares about the laws of conservation of matter. Maybe her strife specibus is handkerchiefkind. He blows his nose to cover an ill-timed hiccup. "Thanks."

Wait, pilot? That had been close enough to a legitimate phrasing that he'd almost glossed over it, but humans don't have the organic nor psionic knack necessary for helmsman tech, as he recalls. She probably meant a captain, of a perfectly non-living unpsychic ship with no weird symbiotic components whatsoever. Humans sure are weird.

"Did you really just sum up a time traveling universe devouring demon as 'that sort of thing' while also claiming just imperial fuck-tons of experience with it? Yeah, that's total bullshit. Who even are you, anyway?" He's dimly aware he's still being an asshole, but he's being a conversational non-crying asshole, and far from the outraged and impersonal tirades from earlier, this is delivered in a relatively calm and perhaps even friendleaderly tone, if you know him. And she's really quite similar to a friend, even if she's actually a dream bubble inhabiting human stranger. Who may be a part of some kind of intergalactic demon execution squad? Or possibly completely full of shit.

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS didn't just listen to all his tirades only to get offended by his rather forceful disbelief now. He did say thanks, and his tone isn't particularly unfriendly either, like this is simply how he talks all the time. Besides, considering his circumstances, being overwrought is still to be expected. She thinks she might be starting to get the hang of dealing with this peculiar child.

"I'm called the TARDIS, I am a time and space ship. And I was not being facetious," she corrects him gently. "The Doctor - my pilot - and I have saved our universe from threats of that magnitude several times." But the point is a bit moot, since they can't actually help him with his troubles anyway. "And what is your name?"