applesaucedream | Paper Faces on Parade

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daine reaches out to take the pen and paper automatically, her expression shifting into one of polite bemusement. Given all his questions, she's not overly surprised that he's running some sort of experiment. She can't help wondering what he's trying to prove, though... maybe just that she's really here?

Well, then. She takes the paper over to the wall so she has a stable surface to write on, then neatly prints: Snowsdale, Galla.

"What would you like me to do with it, now?" she asks, holding the paper in such a way that he can't see what she's written.

No, Zagreus is way too invested in the matter of his own existence to make a fuss proving anyone else's, as a general day-to-day guideline. This is about something else, but he sees no reason to show his work. "Fold it up and give it back, if you don't mind. Thank you, you've been quite helpful."

She can't help giving him a dubious look as she folds up the paper and hands both it and the pen back over. If he's not planning on reading it back to her, what was the point?

"You're welcome," she says before venturing, "What is it you're trying to prove?"

He takes the paper and pockets it without so much as a glance. He'll check it upon waking, though he has every reason to suspect whatever she wrote will be there and just as unrecognisable as should be expected for something he didn't write himself. "I'm not expressly trying to prove anything. It's more about finding limits, understanding the dream world we're all being subjected to...I'm not exactly calling upon the scientific method, here."

Well, then. She just hopes that when he does eventually read what she wrote, he doesn't try to find Snowsdale on a map. He'd be in for a long, frustrating search.

"I'm glad I could help," she says, because manners cost nothing. Casting another glance down toward the bar, she adds, "Was there anything else you needed?" Because if not, she wants to go figure out which lookalike that is.

She needn't be concerned. Zagreus is terrible at maps anyway.

"No, thank you. You've been helpful enough already." On a whim, "In fact, I probably owe you a favour. Shame you won't know a way to contact me when you wake up...unless. I could leave my number in your mind." The considering pause was purely manufactured, of course. "I'm a useful person to have in your debt."

The offer to leave something in her mind (even something as simple as a phone number) is a bit alarming. How can he sound so casual about it? Is it something he's learned to do in the dreaming, or something he can do all the time? She hesitates as she tries to think of a polite way to refuse.

"I'm sure you don't owe me anything," Which is true enough (and anyway, it'd be a small favor she'd earned with what little assistance she'd given him). "And I'd rather you didn't put anything in my mind. Maybe I could just give you my number?" Then he could text her instead of mucking around in her head.

Well it had been worth a shot. He isn't actually sure how his ability to effect minds interacts with the fact that the subject would be dreaming, and it would be something worth finding out. He wouldn't even have wrecked anything this time. Probably.

"Suit yourself. If the experiment works, of course." He doesn't intend to memorise any numbers, not that it would be especially difficult. He hands her back the paper and pen, still without checking it. The general gist of his abilities isn't exactly a secret, at least to innocuous strangers, but being cagey about why he wants to know the things he wants to know had seemed prudent. But if she's got any cleverness she'll realise that dream paper (and its contents) should normally stay within the bounds of the dreaming. Oh well.

Her brow furrows as she takes the pen and paper back. So that's the experiment: seeing if he can... what, take something out of a dream? She'd say it was impossible, but as far as the rift is concerned, she's not so sure 'impossible' exists.

Still, she can't help giving him an incredulous look as she takes the paper back over to the wall. "So has it happened before?" she asks, unfolding the paper and printing her number.

"Oh, you mean...?" He gestures vaguely at the paper. What the hell, she seems harmless enough. "Yes, but not so deliberately and not with any kind of information involved. Nothing I didn't generate unconsciously, myself, in other words. ...I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone." She may be involved with one faction or another, but she doesn't seem a chatty sort. He doesn't exist to them so far as he knows, and he's alright with that. For now.

Fortunately for Daine, she's grown used to folk speaking in fancier language than she'd think necessary - enough so that she understands that it has happened before, but not a-purpose. That's an odd power to have, and she can't help wondering what else he could take out of dreams. Then again, if he's experimenting on a little piece of paper, there's probably no cause for alarm. Anyway, he seems nice enough. The offer to put information in her mind was a bit unsettling, but the TARDIS could probably do the same, and she's all right.

"Okay," Daine agrees, folding the paper back up as it was and handing it back to him. "Text me if it works; then I'll have your number as well. Zagreus, right?"

"Yes, that's right. And again, thanks for your help. As well as your discretion." With any luck, she'll maybe not even remember all of this; she hadn't known she was dreaming at all, until he'd said so. And if he doesn't contact her, she may just assume it hadn't worked. Or perhaps he should just text her when he's awake, meet under some pretext and wipe her memory. Decisions, decisions. "Take care, Daine."

"You're welcome," she replies with a little smile. "Good luck with the experiment."

Another glance towards the bar confirms that one of the lookalikes is still there. Maybe there's another staircase closer to this side of the ballroom she could make her way down. Giving Zagreus a little wave farewell, she heads out into the hallway to explore.

Paper Faces on Parade

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