applesaucedream | A Day Late and a Dollar Short

As far as dreams go, this seems surprisingly...normal. True, the dreamers of Manhattan and beyond will find themselves stranded in the middle of the ocean on a fairly deserted rocky island, but it's nothing so unusual as the labyrinth from last time, and no one appears to have become an animal or reverted to an insane past (or future) version of themself. Besides, well, rocks and grass, there's nothing here but an abandoned lighthouse, the doors and windows broken, and the spare furniture worn by the weather. You can go up the spiral staircase to look at the view, but there's nothing to see but the endless ocean. One might almost think tonight was a night for simple socializing via the telepathic current.

As if anything to do with the rift is ever that simple, you silly bumpkin. How quickly each person realizes what is unusual about tonight's dream will depend in large part on their personality. Some might go the entire night without noticing (except from the distress of others, naturally), but some will find out the instant they open their mouths to converse with another dreamer. You see, each and every dreamer will be completely unable to tell a lie for as long as the dream lasts. The truth might be evaded by omission, but any attempt to say that which is untrue will result in the corresponding truth emerging instead.

Good thing it's just a dream and everyone's going to forget in the morning, right? Right??

[Mod note: As usual, players can choose to have their characters remember or forget anything that happens in the Dreaming. As per usual party rules, both members and non-members are welcome to play any character in this post, regardless of whether that character is currently in the game. Unlike usual, tonight's theme is not optional; all characters will be subject to the enforced truth-telling. Have fun!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, yeah -- I mean, I don't know how it is where you're from, but back home weres and wildlife usually tend to match up. But still, it's not like wolves are everywhere."

Yuri frowns to himself. Back home, werewolves had been just one among many 'predatory' weres getting the short end of the stick when it came to accommodations. He snorts at her candor, assuming it to be voluntary. "I can't decide if they never had weres in this universe and just made it up, or if all the weres died off and it's only the wolves they remember," he says. He kind of likes the former possibility better, though it seems unlikely that they'd get so many things right about it by chance. "Some of the different cultures have stories about different kinds of weres," he adds thoughtfully. Really, it's something that was on his mind a lot when he first discovered his new universe's obsession with people who didn't even exist there. He hasn't thought about it a lot in recent months, but there's been other stuff to distract him and he's sort of forgotten what it was like not to be considered a mythical creature or movie monster.

"Pretty much," Sunshine agrees. "You get weres like rats and coyotes just about everywhere, but that fits the pattern, too." She decides that she isn't getting a rat or coyote vibe from Yuri, not that she really knows what she's talking about, vibe-wise. She'd also like to say that she's not getting a skunk vibe, but that could be wishful thinking.

Anyway, it's not like she can really tell anything by looking. The shadows might be some help, but again, no illustrated user guide. And since any given were is going to be flouting the laws of physics when they change, it isn't that surprising that there's no real physical similarities between a were's human shape and their animal one. Like, a werechicken isn't necessarily going to be plump and twitchy with feathery hair, and a wereweasel isn't necessarily going to be skinny and have a long torso. Point being, general broadness aside, Yuri could be a wererabbit for all she knows.

Talk about wishful thinking.

"I can understand taking a concept - like magic, or weres, or vampires - and running with it. That happens all the time. But it's weird to just hit upon the idea of a werewolf and stop there, even if the werewolves were all you remembered."

Yuri nods vigorously. "We had stories about vampires back home, like I said," he agrees. "But no vampires that I know of. It was always, like, a metaphor for other stuff going on."

He could mention how the universe he's dropped into does have stories about werebears from their version of Russia, which is a bit painfully ironic. He doesn't really want to bring up werebears at all, though, so he doesn't. Instead, he goes back to her earlier comment about the more common weres. "You'd think wererats would be a bigger thing," he says. "It was always rats I was worried about as a kid. You can't even keep regular rats out of your house, so how are you supposed to keep from getting bitten if someone doesn't lock themself up right?" That's how I got bitten. "That's not how I got bitten, though."

...Wait. Did he...did he just say that? Seriously, Yuri, get your head in the game.

Her nod is more understanding than might be expected. She gets it. The vampires in her universe are fairly well known, all things considered - at least, there's no question of their existence - but they're also just so weird and creepy and almost-human-but-then-really-incredibly-not that it's hard to really believe in them when you're not actually facing one down. Hell, she knows Con, and she still doesn't entirely believe in him. They're too wrong to exist, except for the pesky fact that they do. Vampires as metaphors are easier to swallow than vampires as real carthaginian monsters that want to swallow you.

Also, wow. Talking about weres with an actual were might be strange, but she's pretty damn certain that how he was bitten shouldn't be up for discussion. And if his expression is anything to go by, he didn't mean to head down that particular road, either. She doesn't even need to read his shadows to guess that much.

"So, uh... I take it I'm not the only one accidentally saying stuff I didn't plan on actually saying, huh?"

No. No, it is seriously not up for discussion; even lying and saying he was a rat was kind of an awkward gesture to make, though he meant it as a sort of reassurance. Look, see, I'm just a rat -- I might bite you, but I won't maul you.

"Oh, God," he says, partly relieved and partly disturbed. "I thought it was just me."

If he's going for reassurance, telling her she isn't going to get skunked is what she really needs to hear. Not that having a werebear on her case would necessarily be that big of a step up. They're not too common, probably - it's kind of hard to judge when you factor in the likelihood that a werebear is going to get their hands on the suppressors no matter what. When they don't, you tend to hear about them. She doesn't often hear about them.

"Yeah, I'm not in the habit of telling strangers that I'm a magic handler," she admits. "Or of telling them I know they're weres, either. Hell, I haven't even mentioned it to Mrs. Bialosky." Which could just be taken to mean that she'd show more deference to her regulars than a random guy in a dream, but that's not what she's going for. "Sorry about that," she says again, because it can't hurt.

"Yeah, I kind of don't usually tell people I'm a werebe -- a were," he confirms, covering up the near-slip with a cough. "I mean, even back home it doesn't exactly make you popular, you know? Where I am now, people would either think I'm crazy or know I'm a rifty." And neither would be great. Seriously, the thought of going into a full moon transformation in an unsecured mental ward full of defenseless patients is enough to make him ill.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

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