Paprika (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
radioclub_jp) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-04-30 05:08 pm
radioclub_jp) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-04-30 05:08 pm
[semi-open] dreamgirl
WHO: Paprika + open to first 5 responders
WHERE: in the land of sleepy dreams
WHEN: late April / early May
WHAT: Paprika finally stops behaving, starts invading people's dreams. Nbd, right?
WARNINGS: none known
Ever since she'd been Ported in, Paprika hadn't had the slightest trouble falling or staying asleep. Maybe it was part of this expanded ability she'd acquired, or maybe it was a product of being here "by herself"... no to-do lists running through her head, no stray thoughts about office politics. The first night she'd thought excitement might keep her awake, but it didn't. The second night she'd thought apprehension might, but it didn't. The third night it was dread.
Dread! Imagine that, the dream detective, dreading going to sleep! But it wasn't for no reason, of course.
She'd lay her head on the pillow and close her eyes, but when she opened them she saw nothing. Even once she entered REM sleep, nothing. She was still lucid, she'd realized the first night, but not dreaming. It would have been a different story if she were simply dreaming about nothing; in that case she'd have been able to shape the dream herself. But she wasn't having a dream. It was as if her unconscious mind had been shunted off to a holding area and forgotten about for seven to eight hours, like an unclaimed bag at the airport. She knew her body needed the sleep, and so here she was, but there was nothing to do.
Or... no, not nothing, exactly. When she held still and quieted her mind, she would catch snippets of vivid color, far-off voices, faint smells... Even without looking too closely, she knew they were other people's dreams. Accessible without a DC Mini, floating there within reach, daring her to look, to touch, to open. Worlds of infinite scope and possibility. Therein lay the true power of dreams.
"It's too dangerous," she said aloud to no one, in the dark. "You know what happened last time." Her own voice sounded like Atsuko's.
Of course she knew. She couldn't forget something like that incident, still (as far as she knew) unresolved. Only a monster would want to see reruns of that. She didn't yet know if this power she had was safe to use. But how was she supposed to find that out if she never tried? Besides, she'd been wondering... what sort of dreams would someone from another world have, anyway?
In the end, it was too much. She couldn't resist after all.
The dreams drew into sharp focus as she approached, as if she were tightening the aperture on a camera lens. There were so many of them, she hardly knew where to start. But that was easy enough to resolve. Paprika closed her eyes and raised her pointer finger.
"Eeny, meeny, miney... mo!"
She opened one eye to peek, then both. Well, that looked interesting... "Yeah, that'll do," she said, and pulling the edges of the hole apart, she slipped through into the dream.
(NOTE: I plan to do the open dream logs on a regular basis, so don't worry too much if the slots are taken - I'm just limiting it to five people for starters so as not to overwhelm myself. Please fill out permissions here!)
WHERE: in the land of sleepy dreams
WHEN: late April / early May
WHAT: Paprika finally stops behaving, starts invading people's dreams. Nbd, right?
WARNINGS: none known
Ever since she'd been Ported in, Paprika hadn't had the slightest trouble falling or staying asleep. Maybe it was part of this expanded ability she'd acquired, or maybe it was a product of being here "by herself"... no to-do lists running through her head, no stray thoughts about office politics. The first night she'd thought excitement might keep her awake, but it didn't. The second night she'd thought apprehension might, but it didn't. The third night it was dread.
Dread! Imagine that, the dream detective, dreading going to sleep! But it wasn't for no reason, of course.
She'd lay her head on the pillow and close her eyes, but when she opened them she saw nothing. Even once she entered REM sleep, nothing. She was still lucid, she'd realized the first night, but not dreaming. It would have been a different story if she were simply dreaming about nothing; in that case she'd have been able to shape the dream herself. But she wasn't having a dream. It was as if her unconscious mind had been shunted off to a holding area and forgotten about for seven to eight hours, like an unclaimed bag at the airport. She knew her body needed the sleep, and so here she was, but there was nothing to do.
Or... no, not nothing, exactly. When she held still and quieted her mind, she would catch snippets of vivid color, far-off voices, faint smells... Even without looking too closely, she knew they were other people's dreams. Accessible without a DC Mini, floating there within reach, daring her to look, to touch, to open. Worlds of infinite scope and possibility. Therein lay the true power of dreams.
"It's too dangerous," she said aloud to no one, in the dark. "You know what happened last time." Her own voice sounded like Atsuko's.
Of course she knew. She couldn't forget something like that incident, still (as far as she knew) unresolved. Only a monster would want to see reruns of that. She didn't yet know if this power she had was safe to use. But how was she supposed to find that out if she never tried? Besides, she'd been wondering... what sort of dreams would someone from another world have, anyway?
In the end, it was too much. She couldn't resist after all.
The dreams drew into sharp focus as she approached, as if she were tightening the aperture on a camera lens. There were so many of them, she hardly knew where to start. But that was easy enough to resolve. Paprika closed her eyes and raised her pointer finger.
"Eeny, meeny, miney... mo!"
She opened one eye to peek, then both. Well, that looked interesting... "Yeah, that'll do," she said, and pulling the edges of the hole apart, she slipped through into the dream.
(NOTE: I plan to do the open dream logs on a regular basis, so don't worry too much if the slots are taken - I'm just limiting it to five people for starters so as not to overwhelm myself. Please fill out permissions here!)
no subject
Pulling open the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor takes a few steps outward, gesturing to the planet of Manussa. They landed in a city, in an alleyway, unobtrusive enough, as the Doctor takes a few steps outwards to a city-scape. It's more of a village than a city, wilderness visible on the outskirts, small little pop-up tents selling various trinkets, someone performing a puppet show just a block or so from where they landed. Still, the festival atmosphere is palpable, and the Doctor can't help but give Paprika a wide grin. He picked good, right? Hopefully?
"So! Where shall we start?"
no subject
Hmm, where shall they start, indeed? They could go shopping, they could see a puppet show, or they could just wander and see the sights... Eeny, meeny, miney... "Let's try that one," she declares after a moment, pointing to the puppet show. "Come on!" And she darts ahead of him toward it, a skip in her step.
no subject
But then, because this is a dream, things get a little odd. The puppet show shifts from something simple, something Punch and Judy, to something a bit more complex. The puppets swap out, one to a giant snake, operated by two people, and three other puppets: one a young woman in a lavender flight attendant suit, one a young man with a yellow top and dim olive pants...and the last one is the sandy-haired man in the cricket uniform that the Doctor occasionally looks like, the one who Paprika spots out of the corner of her eye.
Almost instantly, the Doctor can't help but frown a little. It's the past. And he's not going to dwell on the past, not here, not now, not with Clara. Because if he thinks about the past for a little bit, he knows he'll end up thinking about something else, thinking about the ways he's failed Clara, thinking about the reasons why he just travel with her anymore. Best to not dwell, best keep running, like you always do.
"Maybe not—this puppet show's a bit rubbish, they've got the snake all wrong," he simply responded, nodding towards the very unconvincing snake puppet. "Why don't we get some food instead?"
no subject
Nope, she's not letting him escape this one. She leans in and takes his elbow, gentle but affectionate. "So they took a little artistic license. I want to see what happens," she says, putting a playful whine on her tone. With her other hand, she points to the puppets. "Who are they? Is that you?"
no subject
"They're acting out us repelling the Mara—that's the snake thing. Of course, four hundred years is a lot to get things wrong." The Doctor's still a bit skittish, looking around, trying to find something to distract Paprika because he knows himself, he knows he's got potential to dwell.
The puppets hold up little mirrors and the tacky puppet snake just dies all too dramatically. "Well that's not right," the Doctor grumpily mutters, with a frown. "It was a circle of mirrors. And it wasn't just us!" He hasn't grasped the concept that it's hard to do a puppet show with more than four puppets.
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The Doctor makes a small little gesture with his hands, like something exploded, as he makes a poof noise with his mouth. Surround the thing with mirrors, kaput goes the Mara.
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With the puppet show wrapping up, the audience begins to disperse, but Paprika decides to approach the stage instead, pulling the Doctor with her. The puppets themselves are still out, taking a bow, and she wants a closer look at them. Maybe his subconscious will have attached more detail to them, more clues. The story itself doesn't seem to be what was bothering him, after all; he was glib enough telling it.
"You were pretty handsome then, weren't you?" she teases, elbowing him gently.
no subject
"I'm still pretty handsome now!" the Doctor teases back, rolling his eyes slightly as he looks over at Paprika. "Just, a different sort of handsome. Less eager, a bit more weathered."
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Who's ready for dodging the question, it's time to dodge the question! "That was a long time ago, though—over a thousand years and seven or so bodies past."
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Still, Adric... "But you didn't forget," she says gently. And a thousand years is a long time to remember.
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And that's true. He tries his hardest to remember all those he lost, all those he traveled with him, all those who fought besides him. Because if he forgot one of them? The Doctor really doesn't know if he'd be able to forgive himself.