applesaucedream | 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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"My goodness, but you are an elegant thing aren't you?" Biffy says, marveling at the creature in front of him who seems equal parts fox and wolf, with beautifully groomed fur and poise to match. It's as if he's just encountered himself as the creature he'd much rather be.

"Pleased to meet you at last. Call me Agnieszka," she says, bowing her dainty head. "I believe you would call me a dhole."

"No," Biffy says, stroking the perked ears. She's much too lovely for such a common sounding name. "Agnieszka will do perfectly."

"Up! Up! Up!!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying! You're too heavy!"

A pair of small voices come from somewhere above and behind Biffy. Should he turn around quickly enough he'll find a magpie flying more or less straight at his head, though 'flying' would be describing it generously. She has something -- no, someone, someone tiny -- on her back, clinging to her feathers and feeling like he's pulling his own hair out every time he clenches his fists in response to a dip or twist. "Watch out!" yelps the tiny teenager riding the bird.

Both dhole and werewolf are initially seized by the instinct of chase, eat, nap before recovering the morality of their human minds.

"Oh goodness," Agniezska says, apparently as masterful as Alexia at the art of the understatement. She takes a running leap and bats at the magpie. "Get down there this instant!"

Synechdoche squawks in dismay and flaps wildly as the boy on her back lets out a shriek of his own, but a paw catches her on the tail and she rapidly loses altitude. She lands in an undignified flutter of ruffled feathers, and the little figure on her back is launched free to roll across the floor.

Thankfully, Biffy's reflexes are beyond that of a normal human and he dives forward, catching the little man and trying to set him aright.

"Are you hurt?"

Aglet has a softer landing than expected, but it's no less cause for alarm as far as he's concerned. He lets out a little squeak as he realizes he's in the Bean's hands, and his knees won't support him when Biffy tries to set him back down. "I'm alright!" he protests even though he's really not sure at all. "I'm okay!"

"I don't think you are!" objects Synechdoche, fluffing her feathers out to make herself look much bigger, crouching like she's going to spring up and take off, and then thinking better of it and just hopping closer.

"You can fluff up as much as you like," Agniezska cautions. "I could still eat you in a mouthful."

"Agnieszka! Manners!" Biffy cries. "There will be no such eating."

Synechdoche abruptly takes off, taken the dog's word over the Bean's. She only means to circle around and come up to where the bean is still crouched over Aglet, but the borrower still lets out a cry of dismay at the thought of being left behind before the magpie adjusts course and comes in for a rough landing beside him.

"Don't let her eat us!" exclaims Aglet, falling back to lean against Synechdoche and bury his hands in the feathers on her chest.

"I won't indeed!" Biffy assures him. He's human shaped but so small and clearly uncertain; in his own way, Biffy has felt the same. Too small and too lost–and that's all without someone threatening to eat him.

Agnieszka yawns and stretches out on the floor at Biffy's feet, feigning disinterest quite well.

Huddling against Synechdoche is comforting by itself, and Aglet feels a little calmer now that the two of them are back together. The magpie twists her neck around to gently preen at his hair, and he pats her feathers down smooth where he's messed them up.

"Is this a dream?" asks Aglet abruptly. "I don't recognize where we are, and that usually means it's a dream."

Well, that and the talking magpie might have been a clue, but who's keeping track?

"It must be," Biffy says, looking down at Agnieszka. In truth, he almost hopes not. Dreams mean waking and waking means that Agnieszka will not be there in the morning. Already, he has formed a deep attachment.

"A bit peculiar, these."

"Maybe yours is," says Aglet defensively. Synechdoche is anything but peculiar. Beautiful, he thinks, that's the word for her. "I feel like I've always known mine."

"That's not what you said earlier," the bird scolds him.

Biffy laughs and Agnieszka flops into his lap, laughing as well. "It's because he's a bit peculiar himself, love."

"Most beans are," nods Aglet, taking this as a matter of course. "You can afford to be peculiar."

"Can we?" Biffy asks, pretending to ruminate over the idea. "I know I'm quite particular, particularly when it comes to clothes, but I've never thought of himself as being peculiar."

No peculiar belongs to beings like Lord Akeldama, who can afford to be peculiar enough for a whole household.

"I'll bet you throw away whole glass bottles," laughs Aglet, who thinks that sort of thing is very peculiar indeed. "Or even clothing if it's got a bit of a tear in it."

"Or bent paper clips!" adds Synechdoche.

"Only if the clothing has gone out of season!" Biffy protests, because it's entirely inappropriate to wear out of fashion clothing.

"Are you fond of such things?"

"Oh, yes!" chirps Synechdoche as Aglet looks puzzled.

"'Goes out of season'?" he repeats, confused.

Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

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