applesaucemod: (Default)
The Big Applesauce Moderators ([personal profile] applesaucemod) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2013-11-01 06:30 pm

The Tomato in the Mirror



Spring is in the air, and monsters are in your head. It will be hard to run from your fears tonight, though -- for you see, you are the thing lurking in your nightmares. Whether it's something that goes bump in the night, a ferocious animal, or even a person you find intimidating, you have become that which frightens you. Anyone who encounters you in this dreamscape will see the shape of you nightmares, and should you look into a mirror, well....

Dreamers will find themselves in an oversized funhouse whose twists, turns, and intersections turn it into a maze. There is no entrance and there is no exit, only branching hallways, tunnels, and ladders that divide and rejoin in baffling combinations. By the look of it, the funhouse has been here for years, slowly falling into decay as its lights burn out one by one and the bright paint chips and fades. The machinery, however, is still working, still ready to surprise these new guests. Hallways end suddenly in long, steep slides back down into the depths, floors lurch under dreamers' feet, and entire corridors spin horizontally. Elsewhere, dreamers might become lost in the mirror maze or get dropped into a vast ball pit.


[Mod note: Usual dream party rules are a go: apply the dream's transformation to your character(s) as you see fit, and decide for yourself whether they will remember these experiences in the morning. Both members and non-members are welcome to play all characters on this post, including those which are not currently part of the game's cast. Have at!]
wildmage_daine: (attack from above)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-02 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Daine isn't even close to being over her panic attack when she's interrupted by the sudden appearance of a... thing. She's managed to haul herself up onto the netting that surrounds the ball pit, which - surprise, surprise - is far easier for her spider limbs to deal with than the balls themselves. There she clings, a sorry, not-so-little ball of terrified teenage girl and surplus curled legs.

She turns her head sharply to look at the little eye stalk poking out of the ball pit, but she doesn't offer a word. Whatever it is, it'll probably try to kill her if it has any sense. Holding very still, she tries to get her breathing under control. It's not very bright in here; maybe it won't notice her if she doesn't move.
bluesuit_handy: (.misc | sneaky)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-02 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Andrew tries to kick, but there's only the whirring of wheels and a slight lurch as a few balls shift position under and around him. Reaching his arms out doesn't result in any greater success; indeed, he finds that he can only seem to move them at the shoulder, and that they stick stiffly out on front of him. On the surface, a few balls dip and roll in response to his flailing, but that and his frustrated mechanical grunts are the only signs that anything's happening. He stills again and looks around, the blue glow of his eyestalk a light in the relative darkness.

"...What?" he asks again forlornly.
wildmage_daine: (apprehensive)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-02 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Daine blinks. Underneath the weird mechanical distortion, that voice is familiar - as are the repeated 'what's. She turns her head a bit more, the small movement enough to set the net swaying gently. She tenses, curling herself into a smaller ball, then ventures, "... Andrew?"
bluesuit_handy: (.surprised | subdued)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-02 11:18 pm (UTC)(link)
The eyestalk sinks to the level of the balls as he gazes out across his apparent prison, trying to make sense of where he is and why he can't move. At the sound of a familiar voice the stalk jerks upward again, the dome of his armor swiveling as he looks for the source. "Who's there?" he asks. Belatedly, he mentally analyzes, trying to match the voice up with one he knows. "...Daine?" he guesses. "Is that you?"
wildmage_daine: (profile - concerned)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-02 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, thank the gods for small favors. At least Andrew won't try to murder her. She uncurls a little, trying to reposition herself so she can see him better. Her vision is quite good for the poor lighting, but maneuvering her new body isn't easy. She's unfamiliar with many-legged shapes in general, and the net has a tendency to bob and sway with her every move. With some effort, she manages to turn herself upside down. It ought to be dizzying, blood rushing to her head, but it isn't. Finally, she gets a decent look at Andrew's new armor.

"Yes." More or less. "What happened?" she asks him. Any distraction from her own misery is welcome right now. "Are you stuck in there?"
Edited 2013-11-02 23:56 (UTC)
bluesuit_handy: (.worried | Judoon scanner)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-02 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"I've sunk," replies Andrew, suspicions growing as he hears that mechanical voice yet again. It's almost ceasing to surprise him. "Daine, I can't seem to move --"

The light of his eye falls on something shadowy moving on the wall. Whatever it is, it's big, and it's got quite a few legs. Thoughts of the Racnoss leap to his mind, though the spider-being is the wrong color for that.

"Daine," he breathes to his unseen friend, eye trained on the creature. "I need you to be very, very still. There's something in here with us."
wildmage_daine: (frightened)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
"What??" Perhaps it should have occurred to her that the strange blue light is an eye, and it definitely should have occurred to her that she's in a far better position than Andrew to notice anyone else in the ball pit. She really ought to have guessed that it's her he's talking about. But her nerves are already frayed, and she finds herself retreating up the net without even meaning to. As it turns out, her movements are far more coordinated when she doesn't think about them. They're also fast, and she lets out a very un-spidren-like squeak of surprise as she jerks backward.

"Where?" she asks, eyes darting around the space as she clings to the netting near the ceiling. "I don't see anything."
bluesuit_handy: (.worried | head scratch)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
"Up near the ceiling!" he hisses, balls shifting around him as he tries again to move, alarmed at the way the creature so quickly repositioned itself. It has to have heard him; the only question is whether it's intelligent enough to understand his words. Looking around sharply, afraid to take his eyes off the creature for more than a second or two, he tries to locate Daine. "Where are you??"
wildmage_daine: (failure)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
"... Oh." Of course. A wave of self-pity swamps her, and she curls up again. "It's, um. Me. Up here. I'm a spidren." She has to force out that last word, but once it's out, more follow in a little torrent of backed-up anxieties. "I don't know how it happened - I'd never take this shape a-purpose - but it did, and now I'm stuck this way. That's how it works: if you take an immortal shape, you can't change back."
bluesuit_handy: (.sad | hurt)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
There's a long pause as Andrew stares in silence, interrupted only by the slight whirr of his eye refocusing and zooming in on her. Now that she's said it -- yes, that's Daine's face on a giant spider's body. "I'm sorry," he says, ultimately taking it at face value. "Daine, I'm so sorry."
wildmage_daine: (crying)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
That long pause is a torment, but it's the apology that almost does her in. What, now he's not going to argue with her about magic or the rules of her own universe? She wants him to insist that she must be wrong and that there must be some way to fix this, not say that he's sorry. What's even worse is how much he seems to mean it, beneath all the gargling. Her face crumples, and she presses her forehead against the weave of the net for a moment, trying to get ahold of herself. Crying isn't going to get her anywhere, and for all she knows, a spidren's tears could do some damage to anyone below her. She's familiar enough with how their blood can burn.

She sniffs, then looks back down at Andrew. "What about you?" she asks, leaning forward a little. When she leans forward, she can't see the rest of herself. "How'd you get in that thing?"
bluesuit_handy: (.sad | morose)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
If he still had arms (and if Daine wasn't clinging to the ceiling), this is the point at which he would pull her into a hug. The truth is, he doesn't know if she's somehow wrong. For all that he doubts Daine's understanding of the root nature and cause of 'magic,' he doesn't doubt that she understands its rules.

There's another lengthy pause as Andrew finds himself reluctant to face what he's suspected for a minute or two now. "Tell me," he says at last. "What do I look like? What am I in?"
wildmage_daine: (concerned for others)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Another unsettling pause. Huzzah. It hadn't occurred to Daine that this might be a touchy subject, but then again, she's never seen a dalek before. While his outer armor is small enough that she guesses it must be a tight fit for him, it's large enough for her to assume that Andrew is in there, like a cat trapped in a bin. It must be unpleasant for him, but at least he's only stuck in a strange machine, not changed like she is.

She sniffs again. "You're mostly buried, but you're in some sort of machine. Looks a little like a turtle from up here." And turtle shape, there's one she's only tried a couple of times and will never get to try again. Stop thinking about it. She focuses back on Andrew's prison, looking for other helpful details that aren't hidden beneath plastic. "There are two little lights on top that flash whenever you say something," she offers. "And another blue light at the end of a stick, but that one glows all the time."
bluesuit_handy: (.worried | pressure)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"A turtle." Not something he'd used to describe a Dalek before, but with only the domed 'head' above the balls....

Yes, a Dalek. He'd suspected from the moment he first had enough of his wits about him to piece together the hints provided by his altered voice and tendency to roll rather than walk, but Daine's description clinches it. Taking a deep breath -- which he doesn't need, to his dismay -- he tries to draw his consciousness inward. From the start, he's acted and reacted like the shell is his body, which implies that it's connected to his brain like it would be for a true Dalek, but maybe, just maybe, he can pull his focus back to his own body within the machine, and he'll find himself hunched over, back no doubt aching and perfectly humanoid body all sweaty from the experience.

He finds nothing of the sort. Within the casing, the Dalek's single eye blinks open and stares about at the glowing secondary controls. He reaches up to touch a blinking button, and recoils in disgust as a slimy tentacle enters his field of vision. "No," he whispers in horror. "No, that can't -- I can't be!"

But he can. There are ways, he knows, and he's not the first to face this fate.
wildmage_daine: (apprehensive)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Daine flinches, and the net sways. She has a bad feeling about this - maybe because his reaction to finding out he's... whatever he is... reminds her of her own reaction when she realized what she'd become. "What is it?" she asks, his distress compelling her to crawl down the net towards the wall nearest him. Every time one of her own forelegs swings into view, she has to fight back a shudder of revulsion - and the urge to whirl around to look for another spidren behind her.

She stops once she reaches the balls, torn between wanting to go to Andrew and not wanting to get swamped. "Can I help? Maybe I could get you out." She's yet to use her limbs for anything more than climbing, but she knows they're strong.
bluesuit_handy: (.snark | what you say)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Out?" For a moment he thinks she means out of the ball pit, which would be fairly handy but feels sort of pointless given the fact that he has become a Dalek. What difference does it make whether he's in the ball pit or out in those hallways when he's never going to hold James in his arms again?

Then it occurs to him that she might mean out of the casing, and he gives a violent jerk of the eye stalk. "No!" Forcing himself to calm down, he repeats less forcefully but no less firmly, "No. I don't -- I'm not -- I'm not myself in here. Not anymore. I'm...a Dalek." Disgust fills his voice when he speaks the word, the mechanical filter unable to disguise it.
wildmage_daine: (gonna fix it)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh. Oh, dear. I'm sorry." It seems he's in much the same sort of fix she's in. She squashes the urge to ask what a Dalek is. It's not as if she's keen on talking about spidrens. Instead, she reaches forward with one of her forelegs and gives the balls a half-hearted stir. "Why is this happening?" she asks, an undercurrent of anger in her tone. First her, and now Andrew? It's not right. "How is this happening?"
bluesuit_handy: (.surprised | subdued)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Does she know what a Dalek is, then? Andrew's surprised she doesn't press for more information, but he's too agitated to question her in turn about it.

"I don't know," he admits. "I was like this when I...woke up? That doesn't seem right."
wildmage_daine: (annoyed)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-03 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Daine draws her leg back; she doesn't like looking at it, and she certainly doesn't want to get used to it, even if that would be the most sensible course of action. There's nothing sensible about any of this.

"It's all just... mad," she says, frustrated. "I know better than to take an immortal shape, and even if I didn't, I wouldn't pick this. And how can you not be you anymore?" Shapeshifting has never been one of Andrew's abilities.
bluesuit_handy: (.blank | thoughtful)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-03 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"The Daleks developed technology to convert other races -- to convert humans to be like them, once their numbers got low enough to make them desperate. They weren't so dissimilar themselves, once upon a time." Can you hear that bitterness, Daine? There's a lot of bitterness. "It shouldn't be like this, though. I shouldn't...feel. Not anything but hate, anyway. That's more or less the point of a Dalek."

He draws in another breath, and the eyestalk droops and dims slightly as he shuts his eye inside the casing. "I'm inside, but my body is...it's...."

The sentence tapers off, unfinished. It's not something he really wants to analyze.
wildmage_daine: (sad frown)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-04 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
Daine frowns down at the balls clustered below her. "Spidrens aren't very pleasant, either," she says quietly. "They're intelligent, but just... nasty. There's no living with them."

But, like Andrew, she seems to have retained her personality. Granted, she's only seen one other person turn themselves into an immortal, and Ozorne wasn't a very nice man to begin with. There wasn't much goodness to sour when he became a stormwing, so she doesn't know if it's normal or not to still be yourself if you become one of the more unpleasant immortals.

"I don't know if changing into one should've changed me or not," she admits, "but I still feel like myself. Except for all the legs." She can't help making a little noise of disgust at that.
bluesuit_handy: (.thinking | hand on mouth)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-04 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
He looks up at her again, taking in the full appearance. She certainly doesn't look like a friendly sort of creature, but appearances can be deceiving. "It's tentacles in here," he replies quietly. "But this is -- it shouldn't be possible. Or, alright, it's possible, but it's not probable, is it? It takes ages to turn a person into a Dalek, and you said yourself that you'd never take that form. You can't be forced to transform, can you?"
wildmage_daine: (neutral - concern)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-04 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
Tentacles? No wonder he didn't want her to try and crack open his armor. If she had the option of not letting Andrew see her like this, Goddess knows she'd've taken it.

She considers his question, then slowly shakes her head. "One of the gods could probably do it, back home, but none of them are here. I changed a bit by accident when I was first learning, but I have to think like whatever creature I'm trying to change into, and I don't know how spidrens think." More accurately: she doesn't want to know how spidrens think.
bluesuit_handy: (.thinking | concerned)

[personal profile] bluesuit_handy 2013-11-04 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
"And where are we?" asks Andrew, not actually ignoring what she's just said, just sounding like he is. "I know you're probably not the one to ask, but I sort of doubt Manhattan is chockablock with deserted funhouses. The realtors would descend like vultures."
wildmage_daine: (intrigued - positive)

[personal profile] wildmage_daine 2013-11-04 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
Daine sniffs - it's a very Andrew-like sniff, actually; he must be rubbing off on her. "I don't know. I just found myself down here a little while ago."

It's second nature for her to use her magic to orient herself when she's lost, and she does it without thinking: canting her head to one side, she listens for any nearby People. It isn't until after she's found the familiar minds of Sarge and Molly that it occurs to her that she shouldn't be able to do any such thing.

"Wait," she says, tensing. "My magic - it's still there." She lifts her head to look at the blue light that seems to be serving for Andrew's eyes. "I should've lost it all, but I didn't. I can hear the dogs!"

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