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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She takes a deep, steadying breath, then nods. Frank's right, of course. If this was their cellar, it would be mercifully wine-free, but there's no accounting for the shamefully horrid tastes of others.

Still, though. Wine. Disgusting.

Augustine had moved away once Sadie had regained her equilibrium, and now he pipes up, "I think I've found a lantern." His pale fur stands out in the shadows on the other side of the doorway, and beside him, Sadie can just make out a little table with what appears to be an charmingly quaint oil lamp sitting on top of it.

"Well spotted, Augustine!" Sadie crosses to the little table and manages to light the lamp with only a minimal amount of fumbling. Hmm. It appears her previous buzz is beginning to wear off a little. Still, it's with a little smile of triumph that she offers the lamp to Frank. "Here we are, darling."

"Well done!" Frank takes the lantern with a satisfied cluck of the tongue and follows Gertrude into the looming shadows. She's stopped alongside a different rack of barrels and is sniffing them all studiously.

"Well, dear Gertrude?" asks Frank cautiously, afraid of another disappointment.

Gertrude hesitates for a breathless instant, then turns, gives them a big dog smile, and says, "GIN!"

"GIN!" echoes Sadie, her face splitting into a grin. Augustine dances up to Gertrude, tail waving like a fluffy banner, and darts up to lick her chin.

"Well," Sadie continues, "shall we try and roll one of these barrels out of here?"

"Let's!" agrees Frank, and steps over to the pile, trying to determine how to extricate one barrel without causing a gin avalanche.

"Hmmm," he says.

"We're not sure how to extricate one barrel without causing a gin avalanche," Gertrude confesses to Sadie and Augustine.

Sadie pauses for a moment, lost in the mental images conjured by the words 'gin avalanche.'

"That sounds like the best kind of avalanche," Augustine says, sounding a little wistful.

"Yes," Sadie agrees. "It's the barrels that complicate things." She eyes the pile, then says, "Do you suppose we ought to go for the top one?"

"Hmmmm," says Frank again, eyeing the top barrel.

"Frank Linda Ronstadt Regan Doyle, don't even think about it," says Gertrude out loud, apparently in response to some internal debate. "I am not that strong."

"No, of course not, Trudy, you're right," admits Frank. "I don't suppose rolling it down would be a very good idea." He gives it a good think for a moment more, scanning the room with truly distressing sobriety, then snaps his fingers. "I know what let's do!! Trudy, be a dear and bring us one of those empty barrels, would you?"

Gertrude rushes to the task, rolling an empty barrel over with ease. Frank pries off the lid and places it beneath the top barrel. "I call this Frank Doyle's Theory of the Transitive Power of Gin!" he declares, and opens the spigot.

Beautiful, clear gin rushes from one barrel into the other. Frank watches delightedly, and Gertrude can't help but lap at the stream just a little.

"Oh, Frank!" Sadie claps her hands together in undisguised glee as the gin is neatly transferred from one barrel to the other. "That was brilliant!" As the previously empty barrel continues to fill, she throws her arms around her husband's shoulders in an enthusiastic embrace.

Noting Gertrude's behavior, Augustine attempts to get at the stream as well. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the dog's height advantage. He tries to jump up to it, succeeds only in getting some gin up his nose, and has to turn away to let out a mighty sneeze. "Bother," he mutters, licking his muzzle. "We'll have to get some bowls, too, when we find that kitchen."

"Naturally!" says Frank. "Allow me, little fellow." He bends down, brimming with chivalry, and lifts Augustine up to give him a better liquor-tasting vantage point.

Edited 2014-03-30 05:21 (UTC)

Sadie could scarcely being to describe the feeling that wells up within her as Frank so courteously lifts up Augustine, allowing him to lap at the gin. It almost brings tears to her eyes. Her fox, sensing the swell of emotion and in a better position to act on it, leaves off gin sampling so he can turn toward Frank, tuck his muzzle beneath the man's chin, and inform him, "We love you, you know."

"Oh!" Frank feels himself blush. He pulls Augustine closer for a nice hug, and Gertrude immediately shuffles over and presses her head against Sadie's leg, nuzzling happily.

"We love you too," she says.

Sadie drops into a crouch beside Gertrude, the better to wrap her arms around the broad warmth of her and press a kiss upon the crown of her head. She can't help thinking that it's a pity their souls haven't always been on the outside like this. She could just snuggle up to Gertrude all day, and Augustine feels equally content to cuddle in Frank's arms.

And then the last of the gin makes its way into the second barrel, and Sadie reluctantly straightens with a sniff. ~~She has a head cold.~~ "It ought to be light enough now that we could tip it forward," she says, because there's no sense in leaving any behind.

"Right you are!" says Frank, equally reluctant to set Augustine back on the floor. He reaches up to the barrel and tilts it carefully, and they are treated to a few more lovely spurts of gin before it eventually resolves into a slower and slower series of drops.

"That should do it!" says Frank, and he sets about closing the barrel back up.

"It's so beautiful," sighs Gertrude happily. "Augustine! Let's find a dumbwaiter! A place like this has to have a dumbwaiter."

At Gertrude's suggestion, Augustine stops twining around Sadie's legs and gives a little hop of excitement. "Bet I find one, first!" he declares before bounding off into the gloom, tail windmilling ridiculously.

Sadie watches him go with a fond smile, but as the distance between them grows, her smile fades and her brow furrows. Something isn't right. She opens her mouth to call Augustine back to her, and then a terrible pain seizes her heart, and she starts to crumple to the floor.

"Sadie-?" Frank cries in alarm, and stoops quickly to catch her before she falls. "Sadie, darling? What's-"

As Gertrude rushes to Augustine, Frank starts to feel the pain too. He gasps and lurches, struggling to pull himself and his wife up.

"Quickly!" he shouts to no one in particular - or everyone in particular. He staggers toward their strayng souls, helping Sadie along, just as Gertrude turns tail and runs back as fast as she can.

Augustine lets out a yelp, claws skittering against the stone floor as he turns around and comes bolting back toward Sadie. The pain eases as he returns, and by the time he's close enough to leap for her, she's recovered enough to open her arms and catch him. "I'm sorry!" he gasps as Sadie hugs him close to her chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"You didn't know," Sadie replies, managing to sound reassuring despite the fact that they're both still shaking. "We didn't know that would happen, but it's all right, now. We just won't do it again." Still hugging Augustine tightly, she turns to see how Frank and Gertrude are recovering. "Frank? Gertrude? Everyone all right?"

"We're all right," says Frank between heavy breaths. Gertrude licks his face somewhat frantically and he gives her a consoling scratch behind her ears. "Goodness. Having your soul outside your body has quite the impractical caveat! I can see why this isn't more common!" He straightens up, brushing himself off, touching Sadie's shoulder. "But if everyone's back up to par, what's say we all look for a dumbwaiter together? And let's get the barrel rolling, as it were."

Sadie nods as she sets Augustine back on the floor. "That," says the fox, still sounding a bit rattled, "was worse than that time the bee got in."

Sadie shudders. "Don't speak of it, darling." To Frank, she adds, "Could you and Gertrude handle the barrel while Augustine and I find a dumbwaiter?" It might be more sensible for the souls to do the searching while the humans do the pushing, but at the moment, she doesn't like the thought of either soul straying too far from their respective person.

"I think Trudy and I can manage!" says Frank, and Gertrude woofs her assent. Frank lowers the barrel cautiously to its side and Gertrude starts nudging it forward with her head and front paws, Frank helping to keep it steady.

"We'll follow you!" he calls. "Onward!"

"Right!" Augustine yips, and Sadie takes up the lantern and follows her soul through the cellars. Her fox is careful not to stray too far, this time, and she frequently catches him glancing back to make sure she's keeping up.

They don't have to wander too far before Sadie spies a metal handle gleaming in the lamplight, and closer inspection reveals said handle to be attached to a large, rectangular sliding door. "Frank, Gertrude, I believe we've found one!" Sadie cries as she slides the door open and shines the lamp inside.

"Fantastic!" Frank and Gertrude roll the barrel up to the opened door and pause before heaving it in. Frank wipes his brow delicately. "Can we all fit in there with it?" he wonders.

"I think so," Sadie guesses. It'll be a tight squeeze, but that doesn't strike her as an unpleasant prospect - quite the opposite, given their recent scare. "I'll just have to hold onto Augustine." Giving Frank a sly little smile, she adds, "And you'll just have to hold onto me."

Augustine leaps lightly into the dumbwaiter and then onto the barrel. It seems that as Sadie's sobriety increases, so does her fox's dexterity. Piling in after him, Sadie scoops her fox into her arms, trying to make as much room for Frank and Gertrude as they can.

"That shouldn't be too terrible," says Frank with a grin. He and Gertrude roll the barrel in and then nestle themselves amidst Sadie and Augustine.

"Cozy!" remarks Gertrude, nuzzling at Augustine.

"Ah, Sadie," says Frank lovingly. There's a pause. "How do you suppose we make this thing go?"

"Hmm." Sadie attempts to look around the little space, hampered by the fact that it's full of a gin barrel and fluffy soul-creatures. "Is there a button or a lever of some sort?"

Before any such thing can be located (if one or the other even existed), the dumbwaiter starts to rise of its own accord. "Ooh!" Augustine says. "Like magic!" It continues to rise for what feels like several stories, and then the door slides open to reveal what appears to be a serving girl with a startled-looking chipmunk-shaped soul perched on her shoulder.

"Oh!" the girl says, almost dropping the covered platter she's holding as she takes in the dumbwaiter's unanticipated contents. Her chipmunk squeaks and darts down into her apron pocket, then pokes his head back out to stare at them.

"Don't mind us, darling!" Sadie says, swanning out of the dumbwaiter with Augustine still wrapped in her arms. "We'll be out of your way in just a moment!"

"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.

"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.

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frank_doyle - 2014-03-31 02:03 (UTC) - Expand

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