applesaucedream | Entries tagged with dropped: charley pollard

The woods are dark and deep, but not particularly lovely. If anything, they feel dangerous, as if something terrible might come lurching out from behind any given tree and tear into the nearest warm body. What that terrible thing might be is anyone's guess. A cat with hands? Slenderman? Stegosaurus? Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf? All of the above in a horrible mob? It's anyone's guess. But every dreamer will be absolutely convinced that there is something unspeakable out there, and that it's after them.

The dreamers have two things on their side. The first is that there is actually nothing dangerous lurking in these woods (with the possible exception of other dreamers). The pervasive terror the dreamers are feeling is just that: a rift-given feeling, nothing more and nothing less. That snapping twig or rustle in the undergrowth is almost certainly just a squirrel or something else equally harmless.

The second is that no dreamer is alone. They all will be reunited with - or introduced to - their dæmons, a source of comfort in this dark, intimidating wilderness. However frightened the dreamers might be, at least they have someone with them who definitely doesn't want them dead.

[OOC: as ever, any and all are welcome! You don't have to be in the game to join the fun. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. And the party only stops when you want it to; feel free to backtag forever.]

Current Date: Evening July 27th/Morning July 28th

applesaucemod

Tonight, the dreamers of Manhattan will find themselves transported to what is unmistakably a high school gymnasium. Granted, it's lavishly decorated in blues, greens, and violets. There are jellyfish made of tissue paper and streamers, painted cardboard fish are dangling from ceiling, and an abundance of transparent balloons serve as substitute bubbles. Tables and chairs are clustered around the periphery for those who'd like to sit, but the majority of the floor is open for dancing. Along one wall, folding tables hold snacks and bowls of punch. There's no DJ to be seen, but a sound system is playing a steady stream of classic dance songs.

It's impressive work for a nonexistent prom committee, all things considered.

But the setting is not the only thing that hearkens back to one's teenage years. The dreamers will find, regardless of age or species, that they're now saddled with the hormones of an average sixteen-year-old human being… and with the delightful mood fluctuations and bouts of irrationality that come with the package. (Dreamers who are already teenagers might be said to be getting a reprieve… but dealing with adults in such a state will be trying enough on its own. Someone has to chaperone, right?)

The good news for dreamers who aren't into dances is that there's an entire high school to explore, though the hallways will only be half-lit and many of the classrooms will be locked up. Even the parking lot and athletic fields are accessible, but dreamers may find themselves getting mysteriously turned around if they try to actually leave school property.

[ooc: you all know the drill. Any and all characters are welcome, regardless of whether or not they're in the game. Dreamers may remember or forget the events of the party at the player's discretion.]

Current Date: Evening of July 12th/Morning of July 13th, 2013

applesaucemod

Tonight each dreamer of Manhattan will find out they're half the person they used to be.

No, really. Or at least, they're half the human[oid] they used to be. One way or another, each dreamer has been transformed into a hybrid creature from mythology. Fortunately, they find themselves at stunning fjord where those of the more aquatic persuasion can relax in the calm waters (unless, of course, the rift decides to beach them for fun) while others remain on dry ground (then again, who says a centaur can't swim?). There are trees in which bird-people can roost and warm rocks on which the cold-blooded can sun themselves, and the water of the fjord is cool, clear, and inviting. There's nothing man-made to be seen, no hint of civilization other than the dreamers themselves…and in this state, are they really so civilized?

[OOC: The usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters welcome, regardless of whether or not the character (or any character of yours) is in the game. Despite the wording, characters who did not start out looking human are welcome. Characters may remember or forget everything that happens in the Dreaming at players' discretion.]

Current Mood: animalistic
Current Date: July 5, 2013

adventuressing

In her dream, Charley is frozen. She knows, in the way that one knows these things in dreams, that she's in cryo-sleep aboard the Viyrans' ship, despite the fact that she can't be, that she's awake and conscious to know horribly her own inability to move, to feel the seconds draining past slow and immutable. Her pulse is thready, high and fast under skin that feels too tight, but she can't so much as breathe to calm herself.

Everything is white, Viyran white, and all she can smell is antiseptic and plastic; there's nothing organic aboard the Viyrans' ship-- she never found out if they had bodies, under their robotic-looking shells, and even she isn't organic anymore. A ghost, a disease, Patient Zero, a thought of a dead girl, her body stolen away and her mind frozen behind a wall of frosted perspex.

Time passes, interminable, awful, millennia, and gradually the muttering engine-hum of the Viyrans' ship is replaced by footsteps, two sets of them, and Charley can't see (of course she can't see, they'd had nothing but sound here), but she knows to whom those feet belong. But this time she can't even talk, doesn't even have the comfort of humming a song, or chattering to fill the great white emptiness; she's trapped, bodiless, inconsequential, dead-but-not.

And then-- and she doesn't know if he's always been there and she's only just now noticed, or if he's faded into being suddenly-- there's another Doctor sitting in front of her, sat magisterially in his chair as if it were a throne, blue coat and spats and dandelion-puff of blond curls, looking past her with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed, addressing a Viyran who towers as an indifferent plastic monolith.

'Charlotte Pollard?' he sniffs, 'Never heard of her. Honestly, if you're attempting to bludgeon me into cooperation, threatening the life of a dead girl hardly seems the most efficacious way of going about it.'

Doctor, she wants to shout, wants to pound her fists against the cryopod window, wants to apologise because she did this, she's the one who wiped his memory, or as good as. She left him here, and he's here again now and he can't see her, wouldn't know her if he did. She doesn't notice the illogic in his words.

Current Date: 2 June, 2013

applesaucemod

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.]

Current Date: May 31st, 2013

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The Big Applesauce Dreaming

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applesaucemod - Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]
applesaucemod - Enchantment Under the Sea
applesaucemod - Halfway
adventuressing - the outside world of infinite darkness [open to multiple]
applesaucemod - Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

Page generated Jun. 10th, 2025 02:40 pm

The Big Applesauce Dreaming

Entries tagged with dropped: charley pollard

Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

Enchantment Under the Sea

Halfway

the outside world of infinite darkness [open to multiple]

Far Side of the Aurora Borealis

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