dreams...in...SPAAAAAACE!

[applesaucemod]

It's Wednesday night, and the rift has once again pushed and pulled the dreamers of Manhattan and beyond, gathering them together for its own mysterious purposes.

Why, for instance, have the dreamers been placed in an office building? And why, for that matter, is everyone weightless? Everything is weightless, for that matter, which might make maneuvering a little difficult with all those floating tables, chairs, and office supplies floating about. There's nothing stopping anyone from leaving the building and exploring the parking lot and green spaces nearby, but is a wide open space really where one wants to be right now?

[Mod note: Usual dream party rules apply. All players and characters are welcome, current members or no. Characters will remember or forget all dream events at players' discretion.]

Comments

[fucking_ebay]

Peter might be clinging onto her a little longer than is strictly necessary as well. If she asks, he'll deny to his last breath that he's shaking -- that's all her, clearly. "Told you so," he reminds her mercilessly, though he doesn't move to let go or push her away.

[wildmage_daine]

Yes, yes. Daine lifts her head enough to rest her chin on his shoulder, the better to glare at the misleadingly normal-looking great outdoors. Well, let's not do that again, she says lightly, as if her own limbs aren't a bit shaky, still.

[fucking_ebay]

"Yeah, no," agrees Peter, loosening his grip enough to clap her on the back. "Come on, we'll find you a ball of string and play inside."

[wildmage_daine]

Leopards don't play with string, she says with all the dignity she can muster. He probably doesn't want to know what they do play with. It's not always pleasant.

She pushes away from him, but gently - too much force and she'd send both of them sailing in opposite directions - and makes her way back toward the cubicles, batting aside the occasional stapler or stack of post-it notes.

[fucking_ebay]

"Oh, right," Peter laughs, reaching up his hands to push off the ceiling and send himself in a semi-controlled glide after her, not really feeling up to teleporting while he's still so shaky. "Tennis ball for fetch, right?"

[wildmage_daine]

Now he's just being silly. Cats rarely fetch - at least, not the sort of thing most folk would like brought back to them. Still, joking is more pleasant than thinking about what just happened. Maybe one of these conference rooms has a laser pointer, she suggests.

[fucking_ebay]

Peter bursts out laughing at the mental image of a leopard flailing in midair, trying to reach a red dot on the wall. "You're on!" he agrees.

[wildmage_daine]

Not that a laser pointer would be easy to spot amongst all the other stuff floating around. Still, this topic seems to be cheering Peter up to no end. Or maybe we could just find a nice, big box.

[fucking_ebay]

"And I'll help you inside," agrees Peter. "Hold it still for you and everything, scout's honor. Not that I was a scout, but you get the idea."