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WIP tag-in
Jan. 17th, 2024 09:40 pmDitto.
[It could have been just anyone Dolph hadn't met yet.
Standing at five-foot-even, even with these ridiculous heels, she's not exactly the "glamazon" that might come to mind with the word association of drag queen. Even with this stacked plantinum-blonde wig, she barely comes up to his shoulder. Width, however, is a different story. She's padded and corseted to the point of having impossible, cartoonish proportions, with a face painted to match. Pageant queen she is not.
She may not have have been Prism's flavor (she wouldn't know one way or the other), but the irony is that she probably fits in better like this than to be default.
Ramon didn't really choose this, for as strange as that might seem, given its specificity. But the truth is, Ramon dreams wildly, vividly, lucidly, even without the power of the resin spoon, to the point that it is sometimes hard to tell fantasy from reality. A lot gets thrown at him from his own creative subconscious without prompting, and usually he just rolls with it. Taking on the form of an illusory art performer fits too well for him to try something else on.
He does make an active choice on this dress, though.
!! dress description goes here -- will be dependent on the CR vibe at this point !!
Truly, this avatar doesn't look anything like the person behind it. She could have kept her mouth shut and left the mystery remain.
More importantly than what she looks like or who she really is, she has an aura around her. The aura itself is invisible, but anything caught in it is brought up to the fidelity level of what Ramon experiences in his dreams. The heat and humidity of the room, the smell of too-dense crowds and their sweat, the specific way that the bass makes the alveoli in your lungs vibrate against each other. With each passing second, the radius around her grows by a millimeter, blooming everything it touches in detail.
She approaches Dolph and sits beside him. Turns out the bartender has a strong jawline covered in salt-and-pepper scruff and striking blue eyes under a mop of thick, curly black hair. She gestures at him wordlessly with long, white acrylic nails, and he obediently gets to work mixing her an old fashioned.
Dolph might notice that his drink actually tastes like something now. Try not to let the overstimulation wake you up.]
I see you're still dreaming in Eden, too.
[A very intentional word choice, that "in". At this point, neither of them dream of Eden. If it were a verb, it would be more accurate to say that they nightmare of Eden. But no, their dreams simply take place in Eden.]
I've always wanted to go to one of these places. By the time they were commonplace, well... [She huffs an unhappy laugh.] so was I.
[Not that they need to retread on Rayman's complete lack of social freedom at this point.
The bartender slides her the completed drink.]
So... [One finger draws a circle in the air, a gesture encompassing their surroundings.] ...This part wasn't bullshit?
[It could have been just anyone Dolph hadn't met yet.
Standing at five-foot-even, even with these ridiculous heels, she's not exactly the "glamazon" that might come to mind with the word association of drag queen. Even with this stacked plantinum-blonde wig, she barely comes up to his shoulder. Width, however, is a different story. She's padded and corseted to the point of having impossible, cartoonish proportions, with a face painted to match. Pageant queen she is not.
She may not have have been Prism's flavor (she wouldn't know one way or the other), but the irony is that she probably fits in better like this than to be default.
Ramon didn't really choose this, for as strange as that might seem, given its specificity. But the truth is, Ramon dreams wildly, vividly, lucidly, even without the power of the resin spoon, to the point that it is sometimes hard to tell fantasy from reality. A lot gets thrown at him from his own creative subconscious without prompting, and usually he just rolls with it. Taking on the form of an illusory art performer fits too well for him to try something else on.
He does make an active choice on this dress, though.
!! dress description goes here -- will be dependent on the CR vibe at this point !!
Truly, this avatar doesn't look anything like the person behind it. She could have kept her mouth shut and left the mystery remain.
More importantly than what she looks like or who she really is, she has an aura around her. The aura itself is invisible, but anything caught in it is brought up to the fidelity level of what Ramon experiences in his dreams. The heat and humidity of the room, the smell of too-dense crowds and their sweat, the specific way that the bass makes the alveoli in your lungs vibrate against each other. With each passing second, the radius around her grows by a millimeter, blooming everything it touches in detail.
She approaches Dolph and sits beside him. Turns out the bartender has a strong jawline covered in salt-and-pepper scruff and striking blue eyes under a mop of thick, curly black hair. She gestures at him wordlessly with long, white acrylic nails, and he obediently gets to work mixing her an old fashioned.
Dolph might notice that his drink actually tastes like something now. Try not to let the overstimulation wake you up.]
I see you're still dreaming in Eden, too.
[A very intentional word choice, that "in". At this point, neither of them dream of Eden. If it were a verb, it would be more accurate to say that they nightmare of Eden. But no, their dreams simply take place in Eden.]
I've always wanted to go to one of these places. By the time they were commonplace, well... [She huffs an unhappy laugh.] so was I.
[Not that they need to retread on Rayman's complete lack of social freedom at this point.
The bartender slides her the completed drink.]
So... [One finger draws a circle in the air, a gesture encompassing their surroundings.] ...This part wasn't bullshit?