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.]

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"A pony," the Doctor confirms, and her appreciation softens his worries a little, so he can share in the affection. "Apparently he got taken by a rift that turned everyone into ponies or dragons." He shrugs. Honestly, ever since he started sprouting kittens, he's kind of gotten used to the increased ridiculousness of his life. Most of the time, anyway.

The changes the Manhattan rift has inflicted on people have certainly made their lives odder, but still. "That is very peculiar," she determines. "At least the rift here does no such thing." Who would repair and take care of her if everyone was ponies? It would be a disaster. Naturally she assumes she would be exempt from any such transformations.

"At least not to everyone," he comments, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. "I think a few strange transformations have occured. Someone mentioned that a human had been turned into a fawn, for example." He's pretty glad that hadn't happened to him. At least his kittens are only around sometimes. And they're well-behaved - or rather, they're connected to him, so they seem to listen to him.

Wonderful, another thing to worry about. Is there no limit to this rift's disturbing behavior? Though at least while she's dealing with that unnerving thought, she's distracted from any Gabriel-related unhappiness. With a frown she realizes there's nothing to be done about it, so she decides to put it on her growing pile of anxieties and try not to think about it, instead returning her attention to the Doctor. "What point in time was the metacrisis from?"

"He'd only been in Pete's world with Rose for a little while, I think," he answers, just a little bit glumly. And yes, he's not supposed to know about that, but now he does. And he's trying not to dwell on it while the TARDIS is upset, but hey, she asked.

Yes she asked, because his mental embrace has comforted and reassured her enough that she can tell herself her friendship with Gabriel is clearly over for good and there's no point in dwelling on hurt feelings. Which is easier said than done, but she's just as good as the Doctor at ignoring painful things, and taking care of him will make her feel better too.

So she pulls back just a little to look at him properly, concerned about what she's hearing. "You know you will have to forget this," she reminds him in a tone of voice that says she won't tolerate an argument on this, though she also gives him an understanding telepathic nudge.

"I know," the Doctor confirms, though he doesn't have to like it. When the TARDIS nudges him, he doesn't hide his sadness and frustration and - well, a healthy mix of quite a few emotions, really. Jealousy, relief, anger... It's a conflicting bunch of feelings.

"He told me Donna was the other half of the metacrisis," he says, looking at her almost pleadingly. He wants some reassurance that she'll be ok. It would make it easier to deal with having to forget.

The TARDIS responds to his feelings with her own comfort and the reassurance that everything will get better with time. But she knows how much time that will take, and how very much worse it's going to get first. She has to take care to hide her own feelings of sadness at remembering Donna's loss, and the fear at the thought of what comes afterwards, of his descent into isolation that ended on Mars.

But she knows what he needs from her right now, and that at least she can give him. "Donna survives," she assures him firmly. "When the time comes, you will know what to do to save her."

Most of the tension noticably leaves him. Rose gets a human him, and Donna... well, he doesn't know the details, but she survives, that's the important thing. That means there's still hope, no matter how bad things might get. He doesn't want to delve any deeper.

He gives the TARDIS is a hug of gratitude, both mentally and physically. Even when he worries about his friends, or the lack of comfort from his other selves, she's always there for him to rely on.

"Then I'll be able to put these memories aside when we go back," he assures her. Besides, his mind could use a good spring cleaning.

When he stoops down to hug her, she reaches up a hand to stroke his hair and kisses his cheek. She's glad to feel his relief and that he doesn't try to find out more, not putting her in a position of having to deny him. His mental embrace she returns fiercely, clinging to his presence against the memory of what he did to her after Mars, what he likely will do to his TARDIS. That doesn't matter now, all that matters is that they're here taking care of each other.

"What shall we do now?" Because it's time both of them stopped dwelling on their unpleasant experiences at this party.

The Doctor sighs as straightens up, putting aside the things he's learned. If they require more contemplation, they can work on that later. This is supposed to be a party, isn't it?

"...Care for a dance?" he asks, a proper smile on his face as he offers the TARDIS his hand.

The putting aside isn't easy, but she does her best as well and returns his smile warmly.

"Absolutely," she agrees happily and steps back to take his hand and be lead to a less crowded space. "If you aren't intimidated by my dress, that is," she adds with a hint of amusement.

That's what distractions are for.

"I think it's more a danger to others," he answers, glancing down at it, and pulling down his mask again to be more proper with his costume. The dress does poof out more in the back than the front, and he's not a bad dancer, after all these years, so he's sure they can navigate around it.

He leads her out to the dance floor, and gives her a bow. "My lady," he says with a grin, before leading the dance.

Paper Faces on Parade

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