applesaucedream | Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

Congratulations, dreamers of Manhattan - you get to go to Oxford! It's probably not the Oxford with which any of the dreamers are familiar, though. This one is a bit… different.

The dreamers will find themselves in Jordan College, the oldest and grandest of all the colleges in this version of Oxford, a rambling structure that includes dining halls, libraries, classrooms, chapels, courtyards, a botanical garden, and an extensive network of cellars and tunnels beneath the ground. There are plenty of places to explore!

Sharp-eyed dreamers might notice some subtle architectural quirks. Doors look larger than they'd need to be for solely human use, and every staircase has a little ramp built in - not large enough for a wheelchair, but large enough for, say, a small, scampering animal.

And speaking of - the dreamers are a bit different here, too. Upon arrival, they will realize that they now possess dæmons: physical manifestations of their souls. Be gentle with them; they're undoubtedly confused by being suddenly made manifest. They come with all the side effects and complications inherent with dæmons. They can't travel more than a few yards from their person without it being painful for both parties… and it probably won't take the dreamers long to realize they shouldn't be touching one another's dæmons, what with the shared sensations and all. Still, it's a rare opportunity for the dreamers to chat with their own souls - and the souls of others.

What could possibly go wrong?

[Mod note: you know the drill. All players and characters are welcome, regardless of whether they're current members or not. Characters will remember or forget any and all dream events at players' discretion.]

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"Terribly sorry for the inconvenience!" adds Frank as he and Gertrude begin rolling the barrel out. "Ooh! Do you think we could trouble you for glasses and a bowl?"

The girl's mouth drops open, but she recovers quickly, like any good serving girl who's ever had to deal with this kind of thing. "Right away," she says, mystified, and wanders off.

"What a polite young lady," says Frank.

"Isn't it obvious?" Angeron says. He reaches up and preens a stray lock of Aly's hair, tucking it behind her ear. "We're you. In a fashion. Haven't you ever wanted to speak to your own soul?"

"My soul?" Gus repeats.

"What else did you suppose I was?" asks Cosmia.

"I don't know," Gus admits. "I suppose I wasn't thinking in such... specific terms." It makes sense, sort of, if he stops to think about it. But he very intentionally hasn't been doing that. It makes the world difficult to cope with.

He watches as Cecil sets Mehitabel down, wondering is Cosmia would like to explore as well. She acquieses silently, and he sets her down delicately beside Cecil's ... soul.

Odd.

Cosmia approaches Mehitabel curiously but cautiously, wanting to allow her to make the first move.

It hadn't been meant as any kind of great admission, just a more or less casual, yeah, I get that. This is a dream, after all-- or at least, some kind of experience so incredibly far outside the norm that bothering overmuch with caution kind of seems pointless.

And she forgets about it entirely when the TARDIS introduces herself as a time and space ship. From atop her head, Palinouros lets out a shriek of surprise, and then leaps down to the floor, making excited little clicks in the back of his throat as he bounds about the TARDIS's feet, sniffing at her and the Unicorn, striped tail whipping behind him

'Dude,' says Cosima, unable, just for the moment, to find any more appropriate words. 'Dude, that's-- you're a ship? A sentient fuckin' time machine? Oh my god, that's--' Her hands flap in the air in front of her, like she wants to touch, the most primitive instinct of exploration, flying occasionally back to touch at her own face in disbelief.

'That's amazing.'

'That is so cool,' echoes Palinouros, getting up on his hind legs. 'And they smell of-- man, I don't know what it is, like the air around them's been ionised or something.'

'Ok, so I have to ask-- I mean, did you evolve? Or, wow, biomechanics is totally not my thing, but if you're a ship, were you engineered by this Doctor, or is there, like, a whole race of living ships, or-- how does that even work? You must be, I mean, it's probably entirely beyond my comprehension, but man, I don't even care.'

"And with such a cute little soul," Sadie remarks as she sets Augustine back down. The fox gives himself a little shake, leaving his fur extra fluffy.

The serving girl returns a minute later with a wicker basket tucked under her arm. Inside said basket is a bowl and two glasses, all wrapped in linen napkins to keep them from rattling against one another. "Would you like me to carry these anywhere in particular?" she asks uncertainly.

"Oh, there's no need at all for you to trouble yourself," Sadie reassures her, reaching for the basket. "If you would just give me the basket, we'll be on our way. It'll be as if we were never here!"

The girl doesn't seem entirely convinced, but she also doesn't seem overeager to deal with these two strangers any more than she must. "If you're sure," she says, passing the basket to Sadie.

"Positive. Thank you, dear," Sadie says as she tucks the basket under her arm. The girl bobs a quick curtsy, then hurries off.

There's a Charley in the little foyer that makes up the entrance of the bell tower; it's as small as it is mostly because a good half of the room is taken up with a slanting stone ceiling that must surely be the underside of a spiral staircase. The room's quiet, with the sort of cool stillness to the air particular to old churches, and Charley's sitting on a low stone bench that's set against one wall, as Horatio flits and dives about the space. She's been taking the opportunity presented by suddenly being able to talk to herself and have herself (of a sort) talk back to sort through some things.

'I don't see how it could ruin things,' Horatio's saying, 'I mean to say, it's not as if it's his future anymore. And we didn't engineer the situation, I don't see how he could be cross at us for it. Anyway, you saw how glad he was to see us.'

Charley sighs. 'I know, I know I should, it's just--'

'You never expected to be in a position to have to,' he fills in, and Charley gives him a dry look. There are perhaps some downsides to this whole, being able to talk to herself thing, and the fact that Horatio seems disinclined to let her ignore things she'd rather just ignore is definitely one of them.

'Look,' she starts again, and then pauses when she hears the echo of voices and footsteps coming down the staircase, sitting up a little straighter. Horatio wings over to the foot of the stairs, peering up with sharp eyes. As soon as he catches sight of Cecil, he flies back to Charley, fluffed up with embarrassment.

Charley, too, is a little flustered at the possibility that anyone else might have overheard their conversation, and she greets him with an awkward, apologetic little laugh.

'Oh! Hello. Sorry, I didn't realise anyone else was in here.'

"All right! Sadie! Augustine! Gertrude!" Frank gives them each a meaningful look as he names them. "Let us away... to the GREAT UNKNOWN!"

He and Gertrude immediately set about rolling the barrel out of the kitchen and into this mysterious new world.

"That's alright," Fausta says, tongue lolling from her mouth, looking for all the world like she wouldn't mind more petting at all. "William doesn't mind, do you, William?"

Her tail thumps against the floor as Spike finally manages to pull out the chair and sit down. "Yes, I do mind. Come here." She obliges, and goes over to rest her head against his leg. He sinks his fingers into the fur behind her ears almost without thought. It doesn't feel at all like what Sunshine had done, but it is comforting. For some reason, he doesn't correct her calling him William.

"I should have done that instead of slapping the thing across the room." By which he means that he's sorry for that.

That gets a pair of emphatically raised eyebrows from Charley. 'Charming. Well, if nothing else, I can assure you that I've no intentions of killing you.'

Charley, it must be said, is more used than most to people trying to kill her. Perhaps somebody else would react with shock at the news that there are such casually homicidal people running around this New York, but somehow (and it's ridiculous if she thinks about it) that sort of thing seems to have fallen under the category of Inevitable Annoyance in her brain.

Another thought occurs to her, and she turns a curious look on Johnny. 'You say you don't get out much-- where are you living? I only wonder because I just got here, well, today, and very fortunately, I happened to run into someone I know, but everybody else who comes here and doesn't have that-- they can't all just end up sleeping on the street.'

"The pleasure is mine," Julian replies, sounding very much as if he means it. He is, in fact, quite genuinely happy to have company in this strange place. He sets Agamede on the floor and peers out one of the nearby windows of the library, overlooking a stately, green campus. "I imagine only a night will pass back in my quarters while I sleep. How long do we stay here, in this time? A day? A week?" This question is more to himself than to Gus, and he shakes his head.

"I was thinking outdoors. The courtyard and quad looks so cheery from here, and it's not as if I have much of a chance to spend outdoors... normally," he adds, wondering if perhaps this isn't a dream, he should be following first contact rules and possibly shouldn't have been talking about space so much. Too late now, anyhow, and Gus hasn't seemed overly bothered. Then again, Gus seems to have a calm demeanor in general. "As amazing as this old library is, and truly I could spend eons reading all these volumes, I think some fresh air might do me some good. If I can find my way out." Agamede picks a direction and begins to trot forward in what Julian hopes is towards a door.

"Whoa," Johnny raises an eyebrow. "Today? Jesus, I'm sorry." The commisseration is more automatic than heartfelt - not that he doesn't sympathize, but he's more concerned with how she seems perfectly adapted to her situation already, and he's still a fish out of water. Well, he's always that, so. Maybe he shouldn't compare.

"I, uhhh." Couldn't have asked a more awkward question if she'd been trying, which of course, she hadn't. "Nowhere, really. I mean obviously somewhere. But it's not. Uhh. A very practical option." He is really not the person to be asking. "There's these two organizaitons, I think. I don't know shit about either of them. But they'll put you up and give you a phone and money and stuff. That's what most people do, I gather." He shrugs. "I sort of ended up... moving in with this guy I don't really know? I mean not with him, just..." Ugh. He really doesn't want to talk about this. "Yeah, it's not... I'm not super helpful."

Ever. With anything. He doesn't add. Nova gives him a little nip for such thoughts and he bats her gently.

"Shouldn't be too difficult," says Gus, scrutinizing the young man as he follows at a leisurely pace. "I'm afraid I don't really know how the dreams work - or how much time typically passes," he goes on. "I doubt the system is very rigid. Time and reality are... regrettably inconsistent here, in my limited experience." He frowns thoughtfully, the various inconsistencies of Julian's conversation starting to add up. "Forgive me, are you... Did you arrive in Manhattan, as the rest did?"

His apology gets a little shrug from Charley; a these things happen sort of gesture. Again, she perhaps doesn't realise how odd her apparent cool with things like attempted murder and universe-hopping might seem. It's possible that she's been operating under the misapprehension that most of the people who've been pulled through the Rift are like herself and the Doctor, and used to these things.

And whoops, it seems she's accidentally stumbled upon a bad subject, and Charley lifts her hands as Johnny starts to ramble, palms out in invocation of calm. 'That's fine, really, I was just wondering.'

And then Horatio swoops in to ask the question she isn't, because she's polite. 'Are you always this nervous?'

Charley shoots him a dirty look, and then turns an awkwardly apologetic look on Johnny. 'Sorry. I think he's-- rather less inhibited than I am. Or something. I've not quite got used to this whole... animal-selves thing.'

Edited 2014-03-31 03:57 (UTC)

William? Sunshine blinks. That wasn't what she was expecting, real-name-wise. It's a hell of a lot less weird than Constantine or Beauregard, and she can't help wondering why he was treating it like a state secret. What's so bad - or dangerous - about William?

Well, there's nothing bad or dangerous about Blaise, either - not in this universe - but she's avoided bandying that name around all the same. So, fine. She's in no position to tease, even if that was her inclination. But it's not; if anything, she feels a bit guilty for being made privy to such information by Fausta, who seems to be taking 'easy-going' to a whole new carthaginian level.

"It's okay," Sunshine says as her bee cautiously crawls out onto her other shoulder, antennae quivering. "You didn't know. And bees aren't very, um… inviting." Unlike dogs. But that's probably for the best; now that she's aware of how - how goddamn bonded the two of them are, she'd prefer that no one go poking at her bee at all, regardless of how gently they went about it.

No one else, that is. She lifts a hand to her shoulder, allowing her bee to trundle onto her palm. "I don't suppose you've got a name," she says.

Bee faces are pretty inscrutable, but there's a hint of sulk in his tone as he replies, "It's Modomnoc, Raven."

Sunshine opens her mouth, then shuts it, then opens it again and mutters, "You little shit."

The griffin ruffles it's feathers when the little hawk lands on its back, but doesn't make any move to dislodge it. "My name is Venia, little one. I'm a Griffin."

Gabriel smirks at the interchange between the two animals, but keeps his focus on the girl. "Nice to meet you Charley." He holds out a hand for her to shake. "I'm Gabriel. And yes, this is a psychic projection thingie. But I usually just call them shared dreams."

"No, it's fine," says Johnny dryly, giving Horatio a side-eye. "He's right. And I am. Pathologically."

"We've got lots of baggage," offers Nova helpfully.

"You are NOT HELPFUL," Johnny tells her. She seems fairly pleased with herself.

"Tag!!"

A painted dog streaks by Andrew, thwapping his leg with her tail as she goes by. He laughs and makes a lunge for her, but she's much too quick for him. He'd obviously never catch her except for how she has to turn just a few yards on and dash back the other way. Both of them laugh raucously as she circles just out of his reach, then as she turns again he finally reaches his hand out in time to run his fingers down her back as she goes past. "You're it!" he informs her, and then he bolts, knowing she'll catch him again in just a moment.

Someone, it seems, is not bothered by the question of what his soul is doing outside his body.

Edited 2014-03-31 05:25 (UTC)

Horatio seems to have decided he likes Venia, as he sets in to picking through the feathers at the base of her wings in a friendly sort of way. Charley really isn't sure whether animal or human behaviour seems to be the accepted modus operandi for these... familiars, or whatever they are. A bit of both, apparently. Leaving him to it, she closes the distance between herself and Gabriel and takes his hand in a firm shake.

'The pleasure's mine, I'm sure. And good, I thought it was something of the sort; far too many people and far too sensical for it to be a regular dream. Other than the... animals thing.' She waves a hand at Horatio and Venia. 'I take it this is to do with the Rift as well?'

Charley can't quite stifle her little laugh at Nova's pleased little explanation, but she presses a hand to her mouth in an effort to do so anyway.

'Well, that's all right,' she says kindly once the laugh has retreated into a crooked little smile. 'I daresay we've got our share of baggage as well.' And then, after a pause, 'It is very odd to refer to oneself in the plural.'

"Yeah, it is," says Johnny, relaxing a little. "The whole thing is odd. Or fuckin weird, maybe. That's the phrase I would use."

Nova sniffs. "He's got a very dirty mouth," she says.

"You are an insufferable ball of fur," Johnny retorts, though it's more a statement of fact than anything (and really, so was her remark). Arguing with his animal-self is turning out to be kind of a great time.

He hesitates then. "Are you gonna disappear when I wake up?" Nova obviously has no idea; she quivers a little at the thought. He looks at Charley, as if she might know.

'Oof!'

Charley shrieks as she rounds a corner and a long streak of a man barrels into her, arms flailing to try and grab hold of him even as she's in the midst of falling.

Her daemon Horatio is, for a moment, an explosion of feathers and surprised shrieking, until he recognises the Doctor, and dives down with a glad shout. 'Doctor!'

Charley huffs another little laugh at that. Fuckin' weird indeed. 'Quite,' she chuckles, watching the interplay between Johnny and Nova.

She frowns a little when he asks if the animals are going to disappear once they wake up, and Horatio clicks his tongue at her, hopping up to her shoulder with a little flutter and giving her ear a little nibble that's just hard enough to sting a little.

'There's no point being sentimental about it,' he tells her firmly, 'whether or not we'll still be there when you wake up. It's not as if I'm anything you didn't already have, I just was... somewhere inside you before.'

He's got a point, but in the little time she's been dreaming, Charley's already grown terribly fond of this little falcon bit of herself. She shakes her head, looking back to Johnny. 'I don't know. I suppose-- I mean, it would seem the logical thing to assume. Things that appear in dreams don't generally stick around once you've woken up. Though this isn't precisely an ordinary dream.'

"And anyway, what would you do with a rabbit out there?" Nova points out. She's acting tough, maybe to impress Horatio, but Johnny knows better.

"I mean, I know," he mutters. "It's just... a weird thing to have and then... not have. Or have differently, I guess."

'Well, I suppose we'll have to see!' Charley affects a stout cheer she doesn't entirely feel. She supposes her emotions are still running high after the last few weeks, and the unexpected reunion with the Doctor today. Ordinarily, she comforts herself, she'd take the appearance and disappearance of Horatio entirely in her stride. At the moment, she finds herself wishing that he would stay; the comfort of a constant, close companion would really be appreciated just at the moment.

Not that she's about to share this with Johnny. He seems a nice enough fellow, of course, if a little high strung, but she has only just met him.

So she offers a crooked little smile. 'I expect it'd attract all sorts of attention, back in the waking world. Especially if you've got one bigger than the two of us have.' Both Nova and Horatio are small enough that they could be carried in a bulky jacket or tucked into a bag. 'Imagine having to go around New York with a, I don't know, a bear or a horse following one everywhere.'

"Raven?" Spike raises an eyebrow at her, amused. Where'd she even get to Sunshine from Raven? "Seriously?"

Fausta seems just as amused, but her amusement is more directed at the bee than at the woman. "Nice to meet you, Modomnoc. I'm sorry, William can be a little rash in his actions."

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Page 9 of 17

Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

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warning: very slow tags until April 2

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whoooops charley doesn't know about the metacrisis

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