(Ronan, Ehsan, Addy, Sliver) Ricky has the strangest dreams of them all! This one: Having tea with impossible guests!
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Herein lies the realm of dreams, where dreamers who are scattered all over the world in the physical can come together in the mysterious world of dreams. Remember, unless one is a Dreamwalker, there is no control over dreams. Ever. Anything can happen, and by threading a dream, you are subject to whomever can walk dreams and the whims of Storytellers.
Ronan looked over the new guests with interest. First came a woman that seemed taken immediately by the food. Between chews, she offered a hand, and Ronan shook it gratefully. Then came another woman, beautiful with her rich, red curls and leafy eyes. Both began to eat.
It was truly the strangest tea party he had ever attended. Actually, it was the only tea party he had ever attended. As everyone tucked in, he took a closer look at his surroundings. The garden was littered with odd curious, toys at closer inspections. Mislaid paving stones were scattered around too. It was as if they were a game also, so that you had to jump between them to avoid standing in the finely cut grass.
He cut a serving of his guinea fowl, raising it to his mouth with trepidation. This time it mercifully didn't melt into maggots. The taste was rich and inviting, the allure leading him to another bite, and another. But as he ate he felt a strange sensation below.
He dropped his cutlery and looked downward. His eyes blinked heavily as he took in the sight. A fat stomach, ballooning outward by the second. His look toward the other guests was one of alarm, and yet he found himself picking up his knife and fork again and digging into the guinea fowl. His stomach grew so large he was pushed away from the table, chair beginning to tilt back.
"I can't stop!" he announced in between chomps, "my stomach."
As the final piece of the bird entered his mouth, his chair fell back to the ground and he tipped over, rolling around on the floor. His cutlery clattered to the ground. Try as he might, he couldn't get back up.
"Help me!" he shouted, hoping one of the guests, or even the burly Akalaks would lift him back into his chair.
Sorry about my delayment in this post, i wanted to think of an order while at the same time make our tea party gone wrong more... well wrong! I figure we can let our ladies post first after jumpstarting this! After they go first Ronan can go ahead, Ehsan will have a pretty good follow up I'm sure. Let's all get crafty with creativity now, as we will all be losing our minds I'm sure!
Ricky watched as the other two had entered, the count laughing and welcoming the two with a menacing glare. One that seem to be the evil excited sort rather than the spiteful kind, for whatever the count had planned was something Ricky didn't like. His instincts tolf him that something was afoot and that he would be better to get out, yet he was si distracted with the food. The delicious food that was all made, and when he finished pigging out on his ham it was the salmon that came next. The food extravagent in its flavor compared to that of reality, his taste buds would sing and dance in revelry like they were alive themselves. As he enjoyed his meal though a different feeling soon filled his entire body, and something he never expected caught his eye. Ronan was now as round as a plum, rolling out of his chair heplessly with his plea's. Initially Ricky motioned to stand so he could help the poor plump man up, yet the count only cackled at the sight. His voice sounded like a maniac as he spoke, "Hold your peace fellow guests, the Akalaks will help him out." As he said this he snapped for them to act, as they obeyed his silent order with chuckles at what event just played out. They would help Ronan to his seat so that the feast would hopefully continue, and should he have problems reaching for more food his Konti servant would happily oblige in that department. Ricky didn't like this at all now as the hair on his skin began to crawl, but he too couldn't stop eating his meal. The fish was just too good to not ingest, as it literally tortured his mind. The very idea of how he could not deal without was a puzzle in its own way. Ricky would look to the other guests and then the Count, and then everywhere else he could see to look for a way out. Alas there wasn't one to be seen, and the food was still too good to pass up.
Finally he finished the fish with a pleased sigh as he was clearly overstuffed, but then again he could eat more now that his plate had been cleared once more. Why? His stomach was now filled, so there was no need unless Ricky now grew a second stomach. His mind felt odd though, a fuzzy feel ran all through his limbs as his expression was a complete lost one. His insides were now bubbling, in fact they were practically foam out of a freshly opened champaigne bottle now. What was going on? Was he beginning to melt? Looking at his hands and arms Ricky felt his skin no longer crawl but ooze, yet there was nothing. No sort of liquid or oil was coming out, instead the hairs on his arms twitched as if they had nerves, coming to life as the short hair on his head literally began to grow.
His face felt numb now as he could feel a strange lump where his nose was, his mind switching to panic mode as he literally watched in shock at what was happening to him. "What the-" His sentence was cut off with a animalistic roar, one that did indeed reflect his nature. "-Petch is going on!" He exclaimed to the Count but he could no longer focus on the man, for Ricky looked cross eyed at something that took form on where his nose originally was. All the hair on his entire body hit a growth spurt, growing into a fine thick brown cover of fur as he grew a muzzle in place of his nose. Confusion beyond compare now filled his mind, as Ricky now officially looked like his inner beast: yes, Ricky looked like bear.
"Rooora! Rm." He covered his muzzle with his paws and- wait a minute! Ricky had paws! He wanted to scream but it was only bound to be registered as a roar, as he looked to the guests with terrified eyes. The Count was now laughing hard, enjoying the show as it played out before him. What were the others thinking? What was about to happen to them?
She had discovered a series of pies that were simply superb. One was pecan hazelnut with lime green jam upon that tasted like strawberries, another gushed of delicious fruit that she knew was pomegranate and blueberries, another was made entirely of meats of all kind layered with melted cheese on top of which were bread crumbs. The question of eating too much was rather foreign to the Kelvic who was almost always hungry. A vague inkling of doubt crossed her mind when she realized she had decimated ten or so pies in amazingly fast fashion, but she was much too busy calculating exactly how to proceed. She had begun with candy and had now finished the pies so it was clear she was moving backwards through the traditional dining order, perhaps some soups were next upon the list, then she could move to the main course?
It was about then, her attentions at a crossroads that she noticed the strange man who had been speaking Pavi, a language she was rather familiar with even outside the dream world, blowing up like one of those leather balls kids played with. He seemed surprised and in shock. The Kelvic was a bit unnerved to say the least, but perhaps this man was just not used to gorging himself and simply couldn't handle this amount of food.
That was when the other man sprouted hair and became a bear. Sliver was struck somewhere between wanting to laugh with the hilarity and wanting to know what in Morwen's name was going on. That of course was when she caught sight of a wonderfully delicious smelling clam chowder in an exquisite porcelain bowl with cobalt inlays depicting a scene of women playing lyres underneath the waving branches of various trees. Her worries were pushed to the back of her mind and she grabbed the bowl in both hands, eyes fervently looking around for a spoon of sort. After a few ticks of being unable to find one she simply raised the cool ceramic edge to her mouth and began to sip the steaming liquid.
Her lips did not separate from the bowl once while she down the hot soup, and once she was done she found that the edge of the dishware seemed to be fastened to her lower lip by something, she tugged and struggled, and with a resounding crack managed to heave the bowl away from her face. She tried to place it on the table, but came to startling realization that the object was disappearing before her eyes. She wouldn't have minded this fact except the substance seemed to be...attaching itself to her skin. Before dark eyes she watched as her hands starting at the finger tips where she had held the bowl began to transform into the white porcelain of the bowl. Veins of cobalt crawled up her arms and she felt her lower lip harden as well. Running her tongue along it it felt cold and clean, just like the bowl had. She gave a startled scream, but the transformation quickly entered her mouth, tongue hardening, so the only sound that came out was a small moan of discomfort. Her throat and cheeks were consumed by the white substance, the veins on her skin standing out that deep blue against the green of her dress. Her lips were suddenly sealed shut, though she could breathe through her nose, and the substance seemed to slow substantially around her forearms, though she could see the white crawling slowly ever upward.
She tried to move her fingers, but they didn't budge, and the wolverine was absolutely torn as to what she was more upset about: The fact that she was slowly turning into a life size porcelain doll, or the fact that unless this was cleared up she wouldn't be able to eat anymore food.
As the world as well as her party going companions began to shift around her, Addy paid little notice to any of them. The Drykas, though she knew not his race, rolled and flailed right by her chair but the fiery woman didn’t look up from the long stalk of celery that she was dutifully cutting with fork and knife. The tough vegetable was putting up quite a fight, the fine blade of the knife unable to slice the fibers that ran lengthwise along the stalk.
Frustration blossomed and Addy found that breaking the celery down into smaller pieces reigned paramount to all else. A dagger appeared out of nowhere in her hand, the sharp blade immediately brought down repeatedly against the offending food. It did little good as the greenery continued to resist her attempts. A sword was pulled from under her chair next, one much too long and heavy for the little woman though she seemed to swing it about her head with ease; anyone who stood too close was in danger of being sliced by her wild blows, though the Inartan woman seemed to care less.
The plate beneath the vegetable shattered before the celery gave way, Addy falling back into her chair and panting while eyeing the array of weapons that lay around her now; in the few chimes that she took too the celery, she had gathered half a dozen knives, swords of all differerent length and makes, a double headed axe, a flail, and what looked to be a logging saw. And yet the stalk remained unblemished.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Addy glanced up along the table for the first time, her brow only raising slightly at the changed appearance of her companions. The porcelain doll a few chairs away would be no use to her, but the bear…
“Hey, fuzzy!” Waiting for the beast to look at her, Addy waved her arms and gave a sharp whistle, “Over here. Come help me with this.”
Ehsan had been presented with a heaping bowl of chicken curry and long-grained rice, but before the poor Benshira could tuck in, his attention was grabbed by a Drykas inflating to the size of... Well, him. When he looked back to his food to go back to digging in, he found that his fork was missing, and the curry was bubbling slightly. Both Ehsan and Khar'jun tilted their heads in confusion, and when the potter leaned over the dish to examine it... The curry rose up and engulfed his head.
Khar'jun immediately drew two overly intricate, shimmering silver scimitars from his humps, and tackled the rogue foodstuffs, causing it to let go of Ehsan, and sending the Benshira rolling across the table like a squishy, mustachioed marble. "This is bad! Very very bad!" he blubbered as he rolled rings around a magnificent stuffed goose, "No! No! Help! Time out! I don't like this!"
Ehsan continued gabbling until he tumbled right off the edge of the table and landed right next to Ronan. Craning his neck over at the obese horsemaster, he shrugged and said, "Guess it's time to teach you how to walk when you're fatter than the ham."
Khar'jun, in the meantime, was still in mortal combat with the curry, which had grown to the size of a small sofa. The Akvatari, in the meantime, worked tirelessly to lift Ronan and Ehsan back to their feet, and the Eypharian was combing Ricky's fur.
by Ronan on November 22nd, 2012, 10:19 pm 
I figure we can let our ladies post first after jumpstarting this! After they go first Ronan can go ahead, Ehsan will have a pretty good follow up I'm sure. 
