applesaucedream | I'll See You in My Dreams [WIDE-OPEN PARTY THREAD]

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I'll See You in My Dreams [WIDE-OPEN PARTY THREAD]

Sometimes the rift only gives the denizens of Manhattan strange dreams. Sometimes, two people will find themselves together in the Dreaming. And other times? Other times, the Dreaming takes hold of dozens of people at once, throwing them all together into one shared mental space while they sleep.

Tonight is one of those nights -- what's more, the rift has outdone itself this time, telepathic tendrils reaching out through the rift into other universes to pull in even those who haven't been physically transported to this world...yet. You might meet a stranger from another world, or you might run into your next-door neighbor. You might notice right away that this isn't the waking world and that you are not alone, or you may drift through blissfully unaware that anything is out of the ordinary. You might not even remember this in the morning at all.

And that's probably going to be fortunate for at least a few people, because what you will notice is the overwhelming desire to get cozy with someone. It's chilly in this big house where you've found yourself, but luckily for you, there are beds, beanbags, and blankets galore, all of them just perfect for getting cuddly with your new friends. Consider yourself lucky that dream-world cameras can't upload photos to the real-world internet.

[It's a Dreaming party, and everyone is welcome! Tag a friend, tag a stranger, whatever! Everyone who's been pulled in will be feeling unusually friendly and cuddly, so get a-snuggling. Some characters (particularly those with strong telepathic defenses) may not be as strongly affected as others; the extent of the Dreaming's effect on each character is up to the mun's discretion.

Also, when we say everyone, we mean everyone. Non-members are welcome to tag into this post, so feel free to voice-test new characters here, and to invite friends who aren't in the game to come do some meeting and greeting. If you've come upon this post and aren't a member of this game, you are welcome to tag into this post.

For those who are familiar with the brbG parties, this is basically like that. Post a tag with your character's arrival and await replies. Time is bendy in here, so each character can have multiple replies/threads. Have fun!]

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Obviously nothing that's happened here today counts at all. Though it's true they aren't always on the best of terms. They're both probably too fucked up for that.

"Probably," she agrees. She reaches for her drink again, taking a hefty drink. Discussing all of this is getting her down as well.

That's what he'll tell himself, at any rate. Moreso when he wakes up and is reassured that this was only a dream, and he didn't really tell Lucy about his childhood.

Peter is thoughtful, following her lead and drinking. "There are other things we could be doing," he points out. "Less upsetting things."

Look who has a one-track mind. Hey, he hasn't managed to chase her away yet, so he'd better make the most of it.

Lucy catches his meaning immediately (honestly, with Peter it's hard not to), but she takes a little while to consider it.

"No, this isn't a sex dream," she decides. He will just have to deal. Plus, she might start to worry he only stuck around for the sex. ...Never mind that this is actually their official story, more or less, and not all that untrue.

"Cocktease," he sulks, despite the fact that she hasn't done anything to come on to him. He shifts against her, but it's just to get more comfortable, not to get up or to try to slip one by her. "Allowance comes around soon," he comments. "We could celebrate."

Her mere existence qualified as a cocktease in her marriage, and declining wasn't really a viable option, so this is a step up. He could've taken it worse.

"Any particular opinion as to how?" she asks. So far they haven't really needed a reason to get drunk, and it doesn't really qualify as celebrating. If Peter didn't already probably qualify as an alcoholic, well, Lucy isn't helping, and is heading much the same way herself.

"Dinner?" he suggests. "Or I could just go shopping on eBay for something to kill the vampire down the hall." Because seriously, vampire. Down the fucking hall. Who cares if it says it's friendly?

"They'll kick you out," Lucy points out. "They might even lock you up. Dinner's probably a better choice."

Is that a date? Probably easiest not to question it. It's food. Just go with it.

"It's only a matter of time before it slips up and we find out it's killed a dozen people," mutters Peter. He doesn't believe in friendly vampires, thank you, but he's had it very firmly impressed upon him that he's not allowed to do anything about it. The vampire is actually quite wary of him.

"Not takeaway," he decides. "A real dinner."

Well yeah, anyone would be wary if they found out someone was so casually discussing murdering them and not completely joking.

"Ooh, are you going upmarket?" she asks, teasingly. They've both had to get used to getting by on a quite more limited budget than they're used to.

Peter is fairly sure it wouldn't count as murder. It wasn't murder when he Charley killed Jerry, as he said earlier.

"What else do I have to spend it on?" he laughs.

"Well, I mean, you could budget it so they money lasts longer and you don't run out so quickly, but who am I to argue against a nice dinner," she answers with amusement. "Or are you relying on me to continue bringing you booze and takeout at month's end?" She doesn't particularly mind. Not now that's she's started actually earning some money.

"Or they could give me enough to last," counters Peter. He grins. "My system's worked so far." Better, now that she's around to pay for things. It was a bit rough when he really had to rely on what he could bring in from his busking.

"Yeah, cause of course they owe you that much, it's not like it's extremely charitable of them to even give us a place to live, even though we haven't given them anything in return," Lucy points out sarcastically, though she's smirking. And Lucy doesn't really want Peter to starve. He's skinny enough already.

"Yeah, in Roach City," snorts Peter. "This is not what I'm accustomed to." Not anymore, and never again. Except he's kind of getting used to it, and he hasn't done anything to get himself out of the rut in which he's been living since his arrival in New York.

"You poor thing," Lucy answers, intentionally patronising. They've had this discussion before, really, but complaining about state of affairs is an okay pasttime. "Although I haven't actually seen any roaches."

"I had a penthouse on the strip," mourns Peter, getting into it. "And that doesn't mean they aren't there; just means you aren't quick enough."

"I had an estate with a dozen bedrooms," Lucy joins in, though she's smiling too much to be all that sincere. "I mourn your loss deeply. As, I'm sure, do the cockroaches," she adds sympathetically, and moves her fingers up his chest, imitating cockroaches crawling over him.

He laughs, more amused by this than he would allow himself to be in waking life, and squirms ticklishly. "I had fans -- and they weren't the six-legged kind!"

"Why Peter, are you ticklish?" she asks, her smile growing into a grin, as her fingers crawl their way to his side, poking at him.

"No--a-aah!" Peter really squirms this time, twisting and trying to reach over and tickle her side in return. "Are you?" he asks, trying not to giggle or twitch in the face of continued tickling, and failing.

"Aha!" Lucy exclaims victoriously. Oh she's not completely lacking in ticklishness, and she squirms too, but Peter is quite obviously more ticklish than her. She pushes herself up and straddles him, mercilessly attacking his sides.

"No!" squawks Peter, who is not on board with this plan. He lifts his arms to her sides, flailing away at her with uncoordinated fingers, but soon he can't maintain enough concentration even for that as he arches his back and wriggles. He laughs breathlessly. "Don't!"

She's not quite cruel enough to keep going indefinitely, partly because it's taking some effort to stay on top of him with the way he's wriggling. When she's got him incapacitated with the giggles, she eventually lets up.

Leaning with her hands on his chest, she just looks down at him. Laughing, breathless, flushed. She wishes she could see him like this more often.

Just when he's sure he can't take it anymore -- and when he's about ready to get serious in his efforts to push her off -- she lets up. He simply lays where he is for several long moments, breathing still uneven as he tries to catch his breath and get enough oxygen. "Don't," he says at last, finding that his hands have come to rest on her thighs, and that he can't quite wipe the last of the smile off his face. "Don't do that again."

"Seems I have a secret weapon against you," she answers, grinning with just a hint of smugness. She just watches him for a few more moments, then finally adds, "Okay, it might be a sex dream." She leans forward and kisses him, though it bears more resemblance to her earlier kiss, rather than their usual, urgent ones.

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