rae_of_sun (
rae_of_sun) wrote in
applesaucedream2014-04-27 12:05 am
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Charlie's Coffeehouse [Open to Multiple]
As if to make up for the previous evening's kali horror show, Sunshine's dream is warm and familiar. She's in a bakery - her bakery in her stepdad's coffeehouse, though elements of her new workplace sneak in here and there. She hardly notices the inconsistencies as she churns out trays of muffins and sheets of cookies. Charlie's working the register, Mel's in the kitchen, Mary's waitressing, and her mom is probably in her office giving someone hell over the phone. All is as it should be.
If she knew she was dreaming, she would probably think it fitting that anyone drop in, relax, and eat some cookies (well, okay, if she knew she was dreaming she might not recommend eating anything, but whatever, she breaks that rule all the time). Last night was rough, and people deserve a break - and a toxic sugar concoction or two. As it is, she's not paying any particular attention to the customers as she carries out a tray of Killer Zebras and transfers them into a display case.
If she knew she was dreaming, she would probably think it fitting that anyone drop in, relax, and eat some cookies (well, okay, if she knew she was dreaming she might not recommend eating anything, but whatever, she breaks that rule all the time). Last night was rough, and people deserve a break - and a toxic sugar concoction or two. As it is, she's not paying any particular attention to the customers as she carries out a tray of Killer Zebras and transfers them into a display case.
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"Whereabouts are you?" she asks, folding her arms. She'll decide if it's out of her way. Depending on where he is in relation to her apartment, it might not be.
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"It's all the way downtown, don't worry about it. I'll come by sometime," he answers. To appease her, he eats more of the delicious chocolatey death.
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A trip he apparently can take (no horns, then?), unless he's just saying he'll come by to shut her up. Well, whatever. She's not so invested in the idea of Topher coming by to push it any further than she has already.
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"Sooo, while I'm here, is there anywhere else you'd like to go?" he suggests. Her wish is his command and all, and it's nice to see new places when he can do it in the safety of the dreaming.
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Nope. No, thank you.
"I think I'm good right here," she finally says, turning away and dumping her plate in the sink. "Thanks, though."
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The kitchen fades away, to be replaced by a much more airy space, with a domed ceiling. Large and beige and and rather 80s. The stool Topher's sitting on is replaced with a comfortable, large chair. One of several, but his is the one in the center. Near the back of the room, there are high-tech screens flashing. And on the wall the chairs are facing, a large screen showing the vast and beautiful expanse of space.
"Welcome to the Enterprise," he says with a bright grin, all of a sudden wearing Picard's uniform. He picks up a cookie, the tray being the only thing besides themselves that came along for the ride.
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"I dunno, my second in command, maybe? Any preference? Are you familiar with Star Trek?" he asks, still with an air that can only be described as boyish glee. Just wait, he'll start reenacting things soon.
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"Not your thing, maybe? I've got others," he says, jumping to his feet as their surroundings change once again. Looks more post-2000 than 80s now, but still on a spaceship, still in the command section. His chair disappeared, but Sunshine's chair will remain as long as she's sitting in it.
"The Normandy?" he suggests, gesturing to their surroundings. Very glowy and sleek, lots of hologram screens everywhere. His outfit has changed to match too, black and white crew outfit. There are a few people standing and sitting around too, but they don't seem to notice their sudden appearance.
"Bit too shiny, maybe? How about something more grungy." Once again, the surroundings change, this time to a much smaller room, and now Sunshine is sitting in the pilot's chair of a much more worn a dingy cockpit. "Serenity? I love this one," he says, flopping down in the co-pilot chair, now wearing a long, brown coat. "I could do this all night," he admits excitedly.
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"Are these all fictional?" she asks, leaning forward to pluck a toy dinosaur from the control panel. She sort of hopes so, though he could also just be collecting interesting locations from the sleeping minds of other rifties, for all she knows.
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He jumps to his feet, heading towards the door at the back. It's been ages since he played around in this setting. Ages since he had anyone lucid to play with him. "Want a tour?" he offers.
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"Sure," she says, hauling herself out of the chair and setting the little dinosaur back where she found it.
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He grins and bounces out the door and down the little stairs, walking backwards down the corridor and gesturing at the hatches along the walls. "Crew quarters," he informs - one of the hatches has a lovely hand-painted sign, even. He doesn't stop to elaborate (though he easily could), but continues straight into, "Dining hall."
He skips down the steps into the warmly lit room (again decorated with some hand-painted touches), with a large wooden table serving as the center, and swings into the little kitchen area. He stops for a moment to pick up a cookie (from that tray that seems to follow them) and shove it in his mouth.
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But it seems not. There's no one in the surprisingly homey dining hall, anyway. That's probably just as well; it's one thing for him to give her a tour of a fictional ship, quite another for him to summon fictional people to populate it. It's sort of sad, imagining Topher exploring these elaborate dreamscapes on his own, but not as sad as the thought of him conjuring up some imaginary company.
Not that he'd need to. Maybe he just trolls the dreaming for willing participants like her.
"So, is this a show, or a movie�" she asks as she runs a hand over the worn table.
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The next corridor isn't interesting it all, but it does lead to the engine room, which has a lovely little hammock in it. He continues naming the rooms as they move through them, but doesn't stick around in the engine room for long, heading down the stairs instead. This leads them to a little lounge, next to a few passenger rooms, and the medbay.
"What kind of stuff do you like, then? Which books, TV show, music?" he inquires as they walk. And yeah, it's definitely better to do this with actual company that can really surprise him. Making fictional people takes up a lot more thought process, at least if you want to make it interesting, and it feels a bit weird in front of Sunshine. Since it would basically be playing out improvised fanfiction.
Of course, what would be really great is if he found someone who not only had dream powers matching his own, but also had an actual interest in doing that together - they could play out scenes in proper settings and actually get to watch them or even participate, it would be great. But probably a bit too meta.
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Plus, her vampire vision has made both reading and tv viewing more taxing than they used to be, so she hasn't availed herself of as much of this universe's entertainment as she normally would have. Not that she wants to get into that - Topher doesn't need to know about the carthaginian sucker specs.
"Um." She scrapes back her hair. "Fantasy, I guess - or it would be classified as 'fantasy' here. That's what I like to read. I honestly haven't watched much TV since I got here, though." Frankly, hauling the television into a closet so she could watch it in total darkness is too much work.
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"I've got recs if you wanna experience some highlights of this world's television," he offers, leading the way into the cargo bay, big and mostly empty. The giant doors are open at the other end, and they appear to be parked in a grassy field on a warm but comfortably breeze summer's day. Never mind that they were just flying through space a minute ago. Dreams don't have to make that much sense.