larkers: (pic#12386243)
MEADOWLARK MODS ([personal profile] larkers) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarking2019-05-18 03:12 pm
Entry tags:

TEST DRIVE MEME 005

> TEST DRIVE MEME #005

Welcome to the Meadowlark test drive meme! After waking up in strange and rather worrisome conditions, characters will need to begin to live their lives in this new world. All TDM threads take place after the arrival process, so please assume that the initial adjustment period has passed – in which the characters were found dropped off and had to live in a safehouse for four days before hitting the streets. Now it's time to see the bright sights and sounds that New Amsterdam – and beyond – has to offer.

All Meadowlark test drive memes will not be game canon. Please feel free to carry on relationships that make sense, but please keep in mind that the TDM may not reflect current circumstances in game.

NOTE: The PCs have chosen to call themselves "the Displaced," and that's become the common parlance to refer to them. Additionally, the "What Dreams May Come" prompt does not reflect any situation in game, and will change on each TDM.

All applicants can use threads from the TDM for their samples.

> SETTLING IN

There is very little that can smooth over the experience of your arrival in this world. Coming to in a van, drugged and restrained, only to be carefully helped out by the unknown guards and nurses and then abandoned in an alleyway. What comes after is relatively straightforward: you're found by others and taken back to a safehouse, hidden under an old hover bike shop. This has happened before. There are others not from this world who have experienced the same, with no recollection of how they came here, bearing signs that they've lost months of their lives, but unfortunately, no more answers on how or why than you do. There are theories, crossed realities, a very real sense of immense violation to one's self. Maybe this knowledge brings you a growing sense of futility, or perhaps it inspires a deeper determination in you. But even as you begin to think on what next, life has to go on.

All of the new arrivals will be given a fake ID and a background that will lend them access to entry-level jobs. It may be overwhelming, their fellow Displaced have found their footing enough to be able to help newcomers. Two Morningstar agents will be around to take care of world integration and IDs – the rest will fall to the Displaced who came before. It would take at least a month's wages to put down a deposit on even the smallest apartment in the city, so everyone has a grace period before they have to leave the safehouse – and then some, depending on the kindness of who's running the show.

Morningstar's veteran agents will also make their purpose clear if asked: they are a group dedicated to fighting corruption and righting the wrongs of this world, though they're in the process of rebuilding things in New Amsterdam from scratch, and they know that the people in charge of those efforts wouldn't mind a little help. It will be made expressly clear that this entire arrangement to get the Displaced started in the world is meant to be kept a secret, and that especially includes Morningstar's assistance. Letting the world know about their involvement could cause massive problems.

> 001: EXPLORE THE CHANGES

You have been changed, and unfortunately your fellow Displaced don't have a whole lot of answers for you. They'll give you a rundown of your changes: no powers, empathy bonds and a new ability that'll pop up sooner or later. Still – what that means is specific to you, so it's down to you to figure that out.

Most of the troubling changes will be what's happened to each person's physiology. Every aspect of this situation is already enough to make someone feel scared, stressed, confused, or even angry at what's happened to them - having to navigate a new, crowded and noisy world could easily provide enough stimulation to make it worse . Unfortunately, strong emotion could be just the key to triggering your new power. To get things under wraps, you'll want to duck away to somewhere more private or hidden. Thankfully, there are numerous underpasses, dark corners, and currently-empty shops, but you'll need to be quick to avoid raising any eyebrows – or avoid hurting anyone.

Otherwise, you might prefer to play it safe and avoid striking out before you have more answers. As much as Morningstar has been helpful, you know that the others in your situation may have more information. But be careful that you don't end up sharing more than you intended. Every instance of skin-to-skin contact will trigger an immediate empathic bond, letting you feel the other person's emotions and vise versa. While there's nothing that can be done to completely prevent this, someone can either decide to hold on and continue sharing that level of emotional intimacy, or let go and end the shockingly vulnerable exchange.

> 002: THE NETWORK

Months before catastrophe hit, Morningstar set up a private network for all of the Displaced to use in order to communicate. This is due to their familiarity with the neural implant. Most of the veteran Displaced are old hands at using the implant now, and will be happy to provide any necessary information on how to utilize this new tool and understand its application in daily life.

Early on, every newcomer receives access to the encrypted network, only available to you and the others like you, making contact between you easy and safe. Familiarize yourself with this network and dig in. Perhaps you're hoping to find some bigger answers, ask about the latest weather or nail polish trends in New Amsterdam, or want to play the latest game of hot or not among the displaced.

There are private, one-on-one modes of communication available as well, though without the security of Morningstar's encryptions, they're much less safe. You can make calls, send texts, make videos, and even interact with others in a VR simulation – however, there it's made very clear that the government has a means of tracking these. This definitely isn't a place to be careless about your communication

> RESOLUTION DAY FESTIVAL

One day a year, everyone the whole system over participates in the annual celebration of Resolution Day. It's not explicitly stated what Resolution Day actually is; there's no reason to declare what everyone already knows, and characters may find themselves experiencing some intense culture shock as they stumble into the festivities. The celebration starts early and finishes late – very late – so whether you choose to join in the fun, learn more about the history of the festival, or take advantage of the revelry for other, more nefarious goals, you'll have plenty of time.

As the festival sprawls wildly throughout the streets of New Amsterdam, it gives even the most desolate parts of the city new life with bright lights, noise, and plenty of food. Recent circumstances have left New Amsterdam in a constant state of rebuilding, but the festival adds gloss to a lot of the damage – though most of the festival strays away from the most ruined architecture so that it doesn't serve as a constant reminder. Most businesses are shut for the day, giving their workers the time to enjoy the celebration, but some might consider this one of their most profitable days of the year – if you've gotten yourself a restaurant, rickshawing or corporate PR job, you might find yourself stuck on a double shift. Better snatch what small moments of enjoyment you can!

> 003: ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES

Anything you'd think it would be at a festival in the year 2511 is definitely at this festival.

Care to play a game? All attendees can play for free. Some games – like the hoverblade racing, the augmented reality fightboxes and the street-wide bouts of laser tag – involve a partner or a competitor, so you better hope someone's willing to do you a solid or bring out your competitive side.

If having fun involves less competition and more opportunities to feel emboldened, there are karaoke setups all over the city. Most of the songs will be unfamiliar to anyone who's new to this world, but like any music in any era, they're catchy enough. There are some jingles that have managed to survive several hundred years, and you might stumble across a gaggle of teenagers declaring that "All You Need is Love." To encourage letting loose, most of these karaoke booths have bartenders available to help someone find the courage they need to reach the stage.

Or maybe it's time to try the delicacies of New Amsterdam. Hundreds of food trucks have turned out today in droves with high hopes that they'll come away turning a profit. Down for some Mexi-German fusion? Or perhaps you're hoping that pad Thai still tastes the same with grasshoppers? Share your food – or give away whatever you don't like. Food trucks are the hub of activity, and the busiest ones might be worth the time, but you'll be standing in line for a while.

> 004: HISTORY LESSONS

Aside from your typical booths of free samples, charitable causes, volunteer applications, and white chocolate-covered beetles, you'll find an opportunity to learn about Resolution Day’s history. There are various stands available where – thanks to the augmented reality application of your neural implant – you can view video about the origins of the festival and what, exactly, everyone's celebrating. These videos will play for you and you alone, and you'll soon learn that this is the day, 410 years ago, that humans successfully ended the AI war.

If you'd like to feel like a hero, the UNA are running several virtual reality simulations where you can be taken to the battlefield to fight alongside fellow soldiers, working to bring the outwardly robotic AI to submission. The virtual reality simulation interacts with your neural implant to give you the most realistic experience possible. If you don't ground yourself enough, you'll be certain that the sights, sounds, and smells around you are real as you march in formation toward the brutality waiting up ahead. Feel free to team up with a partner on a side mission, or maybe try to keep someone from plugging in for what could be a traumatic experience. Eerie, heart-wrenching music plays when you die, but is promptly followed by the image of several corporate logos reminding you that they sponsored this day and this event.

If you're uncomfortable with this information, no one will understand why. AI sympathizers are not present among the native population. Will you risk trying to change their minds?

> 005: USING DISTRACTIONS

There are other opportunities in the city being flooded with festival-goers. For Morningstar, this is a prime opportunity to test new recruits when it comes to charming corporate execs and getting in good with them.

Whatever your cover story is, make it good. Whether you claim you're hoping to pitch an idea for some new tech or are more interested in seducing – or squeezing – some information out of them, following them into the next bar or karaoke booth may give you the perfect chance. But you might want a lookout to watch your back, a co-conspirator to keep them plied with drinks, or maybe you'll need a voice of reason to stop you from squeezing too hard. Morningstar values discretion – and so does everyone else, for that matter.

> CRIMINAL ACTIVITY

Traveling down from the hectic main city streets reveals a different side from the gloss and promise of New Amsterdam. Economic disparity runs rampant throughout the city, and many people are pushed to desperation, looking to find other ways to make ends meet. In the darker shadows, many illegal activities thrive, out of view of the authorities - or perhaps known and supported by corrupt individuals. Maybe you're here exploring, completing a task for Morningstar, or working a job in the place you excel. Whatever's brought you here, you may want to watch your step, or else find the city eating you as it has so many others.

> 006: GETTING IN

Organized crime still has a strong foothold in the world, with gangs and more established families working drugs, weapons, property and black market cybernetics, to name a few. These organizations are sprawling units that regularly recruit new members into their ranks, so long as they can prove themselves by passing the intensive hazing.

Maybe you'd like to have a role in such a powerful organization. Or maybe you'd like to use your relative anonymity to burn it all down. One way to get an in is through their numerous clubs and illegal gambling dens, where to get past the door you have to know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. Don't know a guy? Feel free to try to use brute force or some chicanery to make them believe that you belong among their numbers.

Just don't get caught doing anything they don't like – which could be breathing the wrong way, if you're unlucky enough. Best to have an escape plan in place, like perhaps stealing one of the many hover cars or hover bikes parked outside the establishment. If you've got the skills, you'll be able to weave through the chaos of the city and make a clean getaway – just don't let the chase run for too long, or you'll have law enforcement on your ass as well.

> 007: FIGHT CLUB

No matter the occasion outside, New Amsterdam's fight club events are held every evening. The bouncers at the door don't have too many scruples on who they let inside. All they care about is whether someone has the money to pay the cover charge.

The interior of the fight club reveals the sophistication of a business that's used to uprooting itself regularly. All the fights take place in a large cage in the center, and you remain on your feet while you enjoy the show. There is a special VIP section if you've been lucky enough to receive an invite or bribe your way in – just keep in mind that these invites are scarce, and you will have to have done something spectacular to earn the attention from someone high up the food chain. Regardless of where you end up, there is one rule: what happens in the fight club stays in the fight club. This tenant is law, and everyone's heard stories of the different (and sometimes extreme) lengths which have been taken to maintain it.

Maybe you're here to sign up and test your chops against other fighters. Many of the fighters boast illegal cybernetic enhancements, so it would be a really good idea to have someone on hand who knows some first aid.

Maybe you'd prefer to just enjoy the show, or take the opportunity to grill the bartenders for information. Just be careful not to make a fool of yourself. Asking too many questions might catch the wrong kind of attention – the kind that might find you being thrown into the ring, whether you wanted to be there or not. For all the blood spilled, these fight clubs thrive on discretion, so whatever you do, try to keep it quiet.

> WHEN CATASTROPHE HITS

Not everything in New Amsterdam is a festival or invading the local fight club to dig up some details. Sometimes the unexpected hits out of nowhere, unsettling circumstances and causing everyone to react. Depending on what it might be, these situations can be catastrophic on a larger, unnatural scale, or a smaller, more localized event. Many of the previously displaced have already undergone them, but there is always the chance that something like that can happen again.

> 008: A MONSTROUS ATTACK

Late in the night, while many are heading home or safe in their beds, ground-trembling quakes begin to wrack the city. Loud sirens begin to cry, alerting citizens to follow quake protocol and head to the nearest shelter or safe area, of which there are many around the city. Everyone seems to know what to do in response. Earthquakes are nothing new to these people.

However, it quickly becomes apparent that this rhythmic shaking has little to do with an earthquake. News feeds begin to report on a huge creature, standing roughly 400m high, approaching – and then breaking through – New Amsterdam's outer city wall. The reptilian creature has a tough, scaled hide, four legs, and a rather large tail. In contrast to its dark coloring, the creature's eyes, mouth, and many vein-like cracks along its body glow a bright gold.


In response to the attack, the UNA and NAPD attempt to unleash an assault on the creature. Unfortunately all this seems to do is cause it to erupt with yellow colored pustules all over its body. As this happens, three different types of creatures pour from its body, taking on new life as they hit the ground. Some are dog-like, while others are like crabs, filled with a dangerous venom that acts as a numbing agent on anybody that makes contact with them.

There are a lot of options: stand and protect, moving throughout the streets to protect New Amsterdam from yet another monstrous attack. Or take advantage of the opportunity, using the broken storefronts to loot and help pad your pockets in a world where you're most likely without a lot of what you'd like to have on hand.

> 009: WHERE THERE'S SMOKE

Around midday, vents open up throughout New Amsterdam to let smoke rapidly filter up into the foreground of the city. The reason why? A fire sparks in the underground portion of New Amsterdam, spreading quickly between two apartment buildings. The cause is unknown, and while firefighters are on the scene, they could use an extra hand. Numerous people suffer from the effects of smoke inhalation, and there are likely more inside the buildings themselves waiting for an assist.

For anyone who's been here already, this may feel like a familiar sequence of events, but going into the fire puts anyone at risk for being infected by the smoke itself. The infection is far from contagious and doesn't spread from one person to another - but it's highly unpleasant, leaving someone feeling mild nausea and headaches, irritability, vertigo, feverish … and vengeful. As the sickness takes hold and worsens, anyone impacted by this infection will feel the need to take revenge on people around them. This retaliation can take any number of forms from violent to non-violent: pick countless fights, or manipulate your friends into fighting one another for your own satisfaction, just to prove that they will turn on one another.

Thankfully, there is a cure for this righteous anger – unless you're inclined to feel this normally, of course. Any of the player characters who didn't stage a rescue in the burning building will be able to cure others by making skin-to-skin contact and holding on to it for a prolonged period of time. This contact will lead to their chest glowing blue for the entire duration, an increasingly burning sensation for both parties involved which eventually culminates in a sense of peace before giving way to a deep, pervading sense of sadness.

Throughout New Amsterdam, there will be countless people impacted by this infection thanks to their close proximity to the fire itself. It's up to you to help them – or leave them hanging, if that's what you prefer. But the only existing cure appears to be anyone with the strange blue stuff in their chests.

> 010: A VISIT FROM THE UNA

In an effort to get New Amsterdam's chaos under control, the officials in charge of the United Nation's Army send out their soldiers to try and smoke out any individuals who appear to be dissidents within the city. Whether they're Morningstar – or a similar uprising – they want to try to get things under control. They don't know why a monster attacked the city, or why a seeming bout of biological warfare hit many of the citizens and turned them against one another. What they do know is that they want to make a statement: if they can't control these events from happening, they'll ensure that the city is safe from people who want to undermine the government that maintains the world order.

It's futile, but the soldiers in question have no way of knowing this. They're ordered to do what's expected of them, and they act with fierce brutality and certainty as they enter homes and change the lives inside of them. When word gets out – and it does get out – there are only a scant few with the resources and powers to truly undermine these soldiers. They act as if they think in unison, clad in thick black body armor as they move through the halls, their heavy footsteps announcing their arrival. But that announcement may not matter, not for anyone unknowingly awaiting them – or anyone who may hope to stop them.

The best anyone can hope for is to mitigate the efforts of these seemingly unstoppable soldiers. Attempt to fight them or slow them down, and try to help the people who never asked for their lives to be changed.

Intervene to save lives – or use the situation to your advantage. These soldiers are heavily armed and armored. In order to help, everyone will have armor and guns of their own, but nothing on the same level or grade as what the UNA soldiers utilize. Try to get what they have on hand, and see if they're carrying around anything new.

It might help in whatever mysterious fight lies ahead.

> 011: WHAT DREAMS MAY COME

Fatigue hits when everyone least expects it, making it so that they can't keep their eyes open. No amount of caffeine is going to keep anyone awake. They'll soon find themselves drifting through a blue haze, as if they're drifting deeper and deeper into an ocean that swallows them. Once they find themselves upright, they'll see they're somewhere familiar – New Amsterdam, to be exact.

This version of New Amsterdam is like a nightmare. UNA soldiers march the streets to maintain martial law. There are paper posters on the walls everywhere dictating a specific set of reminders. Don't stay out too past 9PM. Don't participate in vigilantism. And despite the UNA soldiers seeming to act the same as they march in formation, much of the tech that propels them in reality doesn't exist here. Even so – they act in unison, thoroughly trained and as if they're in each other's heads, calculating what should be their next step. They are wordless as they move, one step in front of another.

This version of New Amsterdam isn't real, but instead reflects some fear that likely lies in the heart of all of the Displaced. Morningstar acts as a rebel organization here, with more traction – but there's little they can do, especially since the United Nations appears to have the monsters on their sides. They deploy them with the aid of the UNA, beckoning them forward from the shadows to hunt down any insurrectionists.

Previous experience will tell the Displaced that they can change this reality – or it might be someone's nightmare. Either way, there's no real reason to risk this dream coming true. This version of New Amsterdam doesn't hide its corporate influence, as the governing body is made up of the three CEOs from the city's main corporations: Pulsar, Vyonation and Giles Bell. Corrupt and self-serving, they do little to help people, and numerous individuals are forced out of their homes in order to advance the CEOs' agendas.

The upside? Everyone gets a power up in these dreams. Anyone who had powers before will get them back – except they're likely to glitch. It may be better if you don't rely on them. Their blue-toned power can branch in any direction someone might hope for, granting them the control they lack when they're awake.

If someone wants to enact change, this is the place to do it. And if they just want to see what might happen and stir up a little chaos? Everyone will know they're asleep and experiencing a lucid dream, though people's level of familiarity with what came before will be up to them. What actions they take here may not be reflected directly in the real world – but perhaps that should be motivation enough to keep this dream from becoming reality.

> THE STATUS QUO (THE WILDCARDS)

> 012: SPACE

Whether you're desperate for a reprieve from Earth after getting a taste of some unwanted righteous fury or curious about this century's space exploration, there are a number of opportunities available to let someone blast off. Most people will find that the process of getting into space is tedious, but also one that occurs regularly from day to day. The opportunities are there for anyone seeking a job out in the colonies, but first you'll have to get hired, or have approval for subsidy granted by the government. Journeys to the colonies are long and arduous, and what people find when they show up isn't any better. Most of the facilities are in poor condition, with food and water far more strictly rationed than back on Earth.

If you'd rather just take a trip out to space without having to worry about a job, you have a number of options. Anyone can book a trip to go off planet, if they have the capital, or perhaps you'd prefer to work towards some proper credentials and join a crew. Of course, someone wishing to skip to the front of the line can always just stowaway on the back of a ship – or steal one for themselves. Just be wary of the fact that the hangars these ships are in come with increased security to match their price tags. They're hard to steal, but not impossible. As long as you know to skip the hacking and go with brute force, it should work out fine.

> 013: GO NUTS

This isn't all there is to explore, so feel free to branch out! Visit a doctor about some advanced cybernetics. Sneak through the city checkpoints and set out into the wilderness. Experiment with some insect based versions of your favorite recipes. Perhaps you'd prefer to engage in some illegal street racing, spend some time getting used to the technology, or make a bold declaration to become a llama farmer. Use the SETTING for inspiration and choose your own adventure.

chocolateries: (cinq.)

silena beauregard | pjo

[personal profile] chocolateries 2019-05-18 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
002. network
[Bad username or site: silena @ beauregard]

there is a tremendously sad lack of color in this place and i, for one, will not stand for it. therefore, i am offering my services as fashion consultant because black on black on black only works in the matrix and it needs to be stopped.

xo silena


[ she's never had a cell phone before, they weren't allowed, so this whole network thing is all very new and exciting but she figures this is as close to a flier taped to a store window as she can manage. ]

003. enjoy the festivities
[ even when she is in a bad mood, silena is the type of person to try and make the best of a situation. this isn't where she thought she was going to be but. she is here and she is going to do her best.

right now, doing her best happens to be belting out sia's chandelier at karaoke without looking at the lyrics because she knows this classic by heart, it was aphrodite cabin's favorite song for at least three months. she is happy enough to keep going when no one else wants to take the microphone, but when a song comes up that she doesn't know, silena squints at the prompter and finally takes her leave, dropping into a wildly graceful curtsy before she bounds off the stage.

she is no less adventurous with the food, staring down a vendor that dares her to eat a live grasshopper. little does he know that miranda gardner dared her to eat a grasshopper when they were fifteen, determined to prove that aphrodite kids weren't cowards. silena pops it's still squirming bug body in her mouth and bites down with an audible crunch, chewing slowly before she swallows and holds out her hand for her dish. ]


I believe my taco bowl is free now.

007. fight club
[ she's not here to fight -- though she has been thinking about it, clarisse had tried time and time again to convince silena of the curative powers of a good fight. instead she is here to act as the friendly medic, using years of chiron's training to patch people up with a cheerful smile and nimble fingers.

she is no daughter of apollo, but she'd been at camp full time since she was twelve. she's had enough training and she has a lot to make up for. ]


Hi. [ her expression is soft and bright, welcoming. ] Let me clean that up for you.

000. wildcard
( do yo thang, come at me, hit me on plurk @ baleinette, i'll roll with anything. )
areou: (pic#10958523)

˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ !!!!

[personal profile] areou 2019-05-19 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
( naturally, clarisse would find herself at fight club, drawn in by its gravitation pull of violence and spectacle. the violence is in her blood; the spectacle is just something she enjoys, the cheers of the crowd as she body slams another opponent into the ground fueling the fire in her veins. it's a rush, and most of the time it's senseless, an easy way to just let go for a few minutes. maybe it's not the most conventional way to relax, but for a child of war, stress relief rarely involves not punching something (or someone).

her knuckles are bleeding when she steps out of the ring, her lip busted bad enough it almost looks like an extension of the scar that runs along her chin. it's nothing she's not used to. it doesn't even really hurt, stings a little maybe but —

then there's a familiar face, and an even more familiar voice, and it feels like her chest is cracking open, her lungs made of lead. rationally, she knows it shouldn't be impossible. at this point in her life, especially given where she is now, nothing should be impossible. and yet ... for an agonizing moment, she refuses to let herself believe it's true. that silena is here. right there. alive and beautiful and real. clarisse almost thinks to run the other way. there's so much she never got to say before — what if she screws it up now? does she even deserve to be in silena's presence?

she watches silena work, her heart beating faster with every passing second. this is never how she imagined they would meet again. she thought, surely, she'd be dead, and they'd see each other in elysium. she hasn't even allowed herself to say silena's name in years, unless absolutely necessary. it's always been too painful. so it sounds strained, unsure, when she finally says it,
)

Silena?

SHRIEKS LOUDLY

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impavid: (❖ He's a victim of the times)

John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis

[personal profile] impavid 2019-05-18 11:29 pm (UTC)(link)
> 004: HISTORY LESSONS
As cautious as John is about... well, everything in this place he has to admit one thing:

He loves a good festival.

Free samples? Rides? Games? A ton of food -- although, admittedly, the stylistic changes that seem to have happened over the years are still... something to get used to.

All in all, John is having about as good a time as he can given the circumstances. Learning about why they're having a festival, though, seems like a pretty solid idea. All information is useful, anything to help him blend in.

The video gives him chills he doesn't want to admit to, and he doesn't know why he agrees to try the simulation but -- but maybe he just wants to see it. Maybe he just wants to see it happen and... convince himself the problem isn't as familiar as it feels.

Luckily he's been in a simulation before, so although he takes a second to adjust --

(The body armour it assigns him is weird, the weapon is unfamiliar, the landscape has changed a little but what the heck at least he has a weapon in this)

-- he's focusing in right away. Just because it isn't real, that doesn't mean he shouldn't be concentrating. It's a learning experience, after all. He glances sideways as someone appears beside him and tilts his head -- trying to gauge if they're real or not. Well, one way to find out:

"Ready to terminate with extreme prejudice?"

He flicks a smile as he checks his virtual gun over for... whatever settings it has. Is it on stun? Well, he'll figure it out.


> 007: FIGHT CLUB

If there's one thing John can't do, it's stay idle. Being grounded, without any specific direction, with the weird feeling that he's not getting anywhere is a recipe for a slow, horrible spiral of despair. Which means any opportunity to get information -- however stupid -- is one he's going to take. If John needs to get himself beaten to hell and back, well, that's fine if at least gains him something. Someone talking to him, someone offering him information, getting him contacts.

That, and... it makes him feel a little better. Not that he's admitting it.

As it stands, John is slumped on the bar nursing a drink. His face is a mess -- it was definitely bleeding earlier, and it will definitely be bruised nastily tomorrow -- but he's pretty sure he'll sleep better for having let some steam off.

"I'd have had her," he's saying, "if she hadn't had the..."

John makes a vague gesture to indicate enhancements and takes a sip of his drink. He probably wouldn't have beaten her even then, but John isn't about to admit that. The cut on his lip stings and he winces, sets down the glass and touches it again -- then the rest of his face tentatively. The bartender tops up his drink sympathetically then moves on and John sighs, glances sideways. He waits until has someone's attention, then gestures vaguely to the state of his face.

"Still bleeding?"

He can't tell when everything is equally sore.


> 008: A MONSTROUS ATTACK

John's pretty sure he saw a movie like this once.

He'd make a joke about it if he thought anyone in this place would get it, but they won't and anyway it's probably -- probably not quite the right time for that given the way things seem about to go.

The ground vibrates and John braces himself, watching -- oh, that's gross. Is it... sprouting...

One by one, the strange creatures emerging from the monster hit the ground and begin to move. Some of them at what can only be described as a gallop. Snapping his attention to their surroundings John begins looking for cover, for open doorways, for anything that might be an improvised weapon before moving slightly in front of the person nearest to him.

"There's a lot of those things," he murmurs. There's a lot of them and he doesn't have a gun right now.

That's no reason not to directly head into the fight, though. He's thinking about it.


> 009: WHERE THERE'S SMOKE

Smoke inhalation isn't exactly fun on a good day.

As it stands John is singed, exhausted, has a burn that is making his head spin and is pretty sure he's going to vomit. He's not sure which bits are related: the headache he supposes makes sense from the heat, he's been coughing enough that he supposed maybe he's starting to trigger the nausea. Maybe the exhaustion is what is making him wobbly on his feet? He'd feel better overall if he was somewhere... quieter.

Quieter and cooler, because he still feels hot.

He feels hot and someone is following him, he can sense it. He hates concerned hovering, hates people in his space and John doesn't know if this person intends to mug him or saccharinely ask are you okay but he feels overly annoyed just at the thought of it. He coughs again as he sways his way down an alleyway and then stops, blinks back a wave of nausea and turns to glower at whoever it is.

"You know," he drawls, "I have a thing about being stalked."

His body-language is tense, angry, like despite how John is swaying he's ready to pick a fight.

[ ooc; I default to prose, but if you hate prose just stick your tags in brackets and I'll match! ]
torchwoodteaboy: (drinking)

fight club.

[personal profile] torchwoodteaboy 2019-05-19 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Ianto's trying not to make a habit of this, but he's facing his own spiral of despair and when the alternative is succumbing to that, he'd rather succumb to a few too many pints instead. A tried and true tactic and one that Ianto's a bit too familiar with, a fact that would be more concerning to him if he didn't have so many other things to worry about in the moment as well.

He's only partway through his second of the night however when the man beside him turns to speak. Not exactly a rare phenomenon, but rare enough in that most of the patrons seem to want to keep themselves to themselves in this place, which is fine with Ianto.

He turns himself, raising an eyebrow both at the question and at the state of the man's face in general.

"Ouch," he observes with a wince.

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tribridfreakshow: (hope56)

hope mikaelson ; legacies (tvd-verse)

[personal profile] tribridfreakshow 2019-05-19 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
001: Explore the Changes

[Hope has a lot of experience dealing with strong emotions triggering unwanted supernatural effects. At least, up until this point, she knew was to expect at least a little bit. Having no idea what was going to happen or manifest if you lost control?

That made things a little more complicated.

That didn't, however, mean she was just going to sit still and wait for something to happen, so she ventures out even if it's against the advisement of others.

To say she's frustrated and angry about her current predicament is an understatement; she'd rather be finding who did all of this to her instead of trying to get her bearings. So when someone collides hard into her shoulder as they walk past, she turns on them, making eye contact with what she assumes to be a hostile agitator.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going." The words come out harsh, and she watches as the man's eyes briefly glaze over. Then, with an unsettling rigidity to his movements, he turns his head to look forward and keep walking. Hope watches him go strangely, noticing that he doesn't even look of to one side or another as he continues on.]


....Okay. Right. Cool.

007: Fight Club

[She doesn't look like she should be here. Honestly, she shouldn't be.

Hope watches the next fight start from closer to the bar, and it might be telling when she doesn't even cringe as a fist connects with another fighter's face, sending a splatter of blood and a renegade tooth across the ground.

She's seen worse.]


They do this every night?

[She asks whoever happens to be sitting nearby, the question sounding genuinely curious.]

009: Where There's Smoke

[The worst of the fire was over by the time she arrived to try and help, the survivors and their rescuers emerge from the mess the fire left behind. Hope doesn't notice what's wrong at first, until fights start breaking out, too many in close proximity, though it's hard to figure out why in the beginning.

Still, she spots someone she knows, their eyes either wild and distant and looking for a fight, or even just trying to get through the nausea and vertigo brought on by the smoke.]


What's going on? Are you okay?
torchwoodteaboy: (drinking)

fight club.

[personal profile] torchwoodteaboy 2019-05-19 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ianto glances up from the drink he's been nursing at the question. Offering a shrug before he takes another sip.]

Just about.

[Not that he's an expert or anything. He's only been coming the past few days. But it seems to be a pretty well-oiled machine, with the gambling on the fighters. Where there's money, there's profit, so why let a good thing go to waste he supposes?]

Different people every night, though. I'd imagine it'd be hard to afford the dentist's, otherwise.

[Yes, he'd seen that tooth as well. He's trying not to dwell on it.]

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torchwoodteaboy: (wtf looking up)

ianto jones • torchwood

[personal profile] torchwoodteaboy 2019-05-19 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
001. explore the changes

[Ianto really could have done without the whole neural implant business. Never mind the whole being drugged and kidnapped away to a place he's never heard of part, they've also taken it upon themselves to modify him. He wouldn't be surprised if there were a tracker in that chunk of metal somewhere, and of course they had to shave his head to do it. Of course they did.

The suggestion that he should have a new power is ludicrous, however. Or so Ianto is convinced, up until the moment when he triggers it. He'd been trying, he'd really been trying not to let this place get to him. But he's here on his on his own, without his team, without Jack, with no idea how or why he's there or if he ever stands a chance of getting home again. So yes, one might say that he's a little stressed. Doing his best to keep his anxiety to himself as he attempts to explore the city. At least up until he reaches for the handle of the shop door he's trying to enter, and sees -- feels? -- a flash of the door that morning. The shopkeeper flipping the sign to OPEN for the day.

He stands struck and dumbfounded, his hand tightening on the handle and the flashes continue. The door a different color, when it was a different shop. The door when it was first hung and the workers hanging it. The door as it was built. The wood it had come from. The trees --

Ianto steps back, nearly falling to the ground in his haste to tear himself out of the tumble of imagery.]


Jesus.

003. enjoy the festivities

[The hoverblades are tempting, but Ianto reins himself in and uses the opportunity to explore the festival itself. He watches the videos they offer, and grows increasingly uneasy about what exactly it is that they're celebrating. History is written by the victor, after all.

He tries not to think too hard about it. Choosing instead to make his way towards the food offered by the hundreds of trucks lined up for the festivities. There has to be something familiar on offer, though after spotting a few stalls with bugs on the menu he has to wonder just what it is about this place that makes chocolate-covered beetles appetizing.

In the end, he just has to purchase a bag for himself.

He’s peering warily at the treats in question before he realizes he has an audience. Holding up the bag with a raised eyebrow.]


You're welcome to try some, if you like.

009. where there's smoke

[Ianto doesn't live in the apartment building that the fire breaks out in, but it's curiosity that brings him nearby in the aftermath. He's not hero enough to think he could run into a burning building and expect to make a difference. But perhaps on the ground level?

He hadn't figured that offering help would be quite so literal as it turns out to be, however. He reaches out a hand to brace the first person who stumbles towards him, their teeth bared in rage even as they choke on the lingering fumes, and he feels it. Their anger, their rage, and then it all stops. It hurts a little, of course, but it feels good too. It feels good up until the point where it really doesn't.

He stumbles from the other man, mumbling a brief word of apology as he struggles to get away. To find himself some peace and quiet. Grateful he managed to do something — he had managed to help, hadn’t he? — but it’s too much.

It’s just his luck that in his haste to get away, he stumbles right into another person in turn.]


God, sorry, I’m sorry—

(ooc: feel free to tag me with either action or prose, i am happy to write in either style! c: )
Edited 2019-05-19 03:25 (UTC)
doubledoctornocitrus: Rodney McKay is appalled (weh excuse you)

.009 Out of the frying pan...

[personal profile] doubledoctornocitrus 2019-05-20 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
[Rodney has definitely had better days--an apartment complex that wasn't his and wasn't near his catching on fire shouldn't have impacted him--but there had been so much smoke and he'd certainly breathed more than his fare share and now he's snappish and shaky and does not feel good. Honestly, it's like his blood sugar is tanking as fast as he can vacate the area.

So when he slams into some random idiot directly in his way, he's...not exactly forgiving.]


You should be sorry. Honestly, some people don't even have the common decency to look where they're going.

[Like he'd been totally looking where he was going. Right. He adds a glower for effect and to cover his hypocrisy. The man's touch is burny and he does not like it--though he doesn't let him fall to the floor. He braces him after the stumble, best he can.]

Don't just stand there. Were you heading somewhere in particular or just loitering in the middle of the walk?

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hoss: (Image127)

james holden | the expanse

[personal profile] hoss 2019-05-19 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
002. NETWORK
[Bad username or site: j @ holden]
Is it always this exciting around here, or did we just get lucky on the timing when we showed up?
007. FIGHT CLUB
[ There's something comfortingly familiar about the scummy underbelly of this city. Holden would like to think that he's down here because it's easier to talk to people, feels less like there's eyes on him if he slips up, but the truth is there's just something about this place that passes vaguely for the Belt, or for the worst of where he'd dragged through before he'd landed on the Cant. The alcohol tastes cheap and no one's too particular about names. Or familiarity. It should be easy enough to ask some questions, once Holden figures out what exactly he's looking to find out.

There's plenty of things still needling in the back of his head. Bills. Reporters and their cameras. Naomi's absence. The sudden, unwelcome hallucinations. Being stuck somewhere brand new doesn't make any of those worries go away. It just adds something new on top of it. He's earned at least one cheap drink to knock back while he processes.

And then it's just him, an empty cup and the tacky surface of the bar beneath his hand while he watches the bartender. The place is crowded. Holden isn't trying to attract attention, which doesn't stop himself from being knocked half off his barstool as the crowd shifts to accommodate the fighters leaving the ring and crane for a better look at fresh meat jumping in. Holden's hand flies out, glass skittering away from him, and catches hold of the person sitting next to him. ]


Sorry, I—

[ He feels something. Feedback, almost. Static, cut off quick when his grip breaks. Just enough to indicate it's a bad idea to hold on longer. ]

I lost my balance.

[ is the lame finish to that statement. One more question he has to figure out then: a better way to say "what the fuck is that?" ]
013. WILDCARD
[ do whatever. ]
lavishing: (005)

@eve.polastri

[personal profile] lavishing 2019-05-19 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
It is extremely boring, always. Except for the monsters.

[ they can stay. ]

This really excites you?

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krasnayas: (137)

natasha romanoff, mcu.

[personal profile] krasnayas 2019-05-19 11:28 am (UTC)(link)
// 01. network
[Bad username or site: natalie @ rushman]
[ new places, new faces — sure, but the rules of the game are the same. find out what they know, find out what they want, and do it before they find out the same about you. an alias is just second nature at this point. ]

I consider myself well-traveled, but this is something else.
Anybody else feeling wildly out of place?


[ natalie is eager, friendly, experienced but not overly confident. for her, admitting she's feeling self-conscious is a good way to make friends. for natasha, admitting a false weakness is a good way to suss out someone else's real ones. ]

// 02. what dreams may come
[ in her dreams, her hair is always the same: thick, red, long; a ballerina's cut, straight across at the ends, with the soft tousling that comes from hours tightly wrapped in a topknot shortly after washing. in her dreams, her hands are often dirty — sometimes from blood spilt, once from ink after she'd signed the accords, and every so often her palms are smeared with dirt, as if she's come in from digging ever deeper holes (or graves).

in this dream, natasha wakes to the knowledge that she's dreaming. it's not entirely unfamiliar — she's had lucid dreams before, the result of too many loops of kgb brainwashing or interrogation (or both). but this isn't like dreaming of drowning or riding a never-ending train. this is real in a way that twists at something deep in her gut, an all too prominent sensation of impending doom straightening her spine.

it's motivation to act, to seize control (of the means of production), to do something about this disaster before it does something about her.

she finds herself near the base of a glittering skyscraper, impossibly clean even among the dark clouds that seem to have settled over the city, a small collection of gear set at her feet. where did she get it? some, much like her black tactical suit, seems to have come with the dream itself — a grappling hook gun, a set of expandable batons, an assortment of knives in varying shapes and sizes — while others feel impossibly futuristic.

at the sight of company (expected or not), her face tips up, features obscured by the shadow of their body. ]


Are you coming, or keeping watch?

// ## wildcard & notes
[ tentatively playing this mid-endgame (during the five year gap), but open to other canon points as well! as a courtesy to those who haven't seen it yet, please mark for spoilers. please also feel free to let me know via pm if there are any subjects you'd prefer i not touch on! ]
lavishing: (Default)

@eve.polastri

[personal profile] lavishing 2019-05-19 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ very clever spy cover, meet petty bullshit "i picked the wrong username" cover. ]

Honestly, I used to think I traveled a lot for work, but this is something else.

My husband thought I traveled too much already. He's probably thrilled with this development.

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sufferances: commissioned from <lj user="cupnoodles"> | dnt (pic#5540252)

stefan salvatore | tvd

[personal profile] sufferances 2019-05-19 05:14 pm (UTC)(link)
004: HISTORY LESSONS
[ It's not exactly Mystic Falls.

It's not the worst place Stefan's ever been either, but being here presents it's own set of complications. (One in particular that is gnawing at him this very moment.) There's nothing to do just yet but acclimate. If he weren't preoccupied with several ongoing stumbling blocks regarding his next meal, he might have even enjoyed this street festival. As it stands, he's waited until the sun had set and drawn the hood of a borrowed sweatshirt up before he'd joined the crowds.

There's plenty to take in, but he stands back from the simulations and lets the implant bring up the clean-scrubbed history of this place. (History is never so simple, Stefan knows, but this is the only real starting point he has.) All of this seems more like the plot of a scifi movie than anything else. But then again, he's a vampire. How much can he really say about what is and isn't believable? ]


Excuse me.

[ Polite, reaching out a hand but not making contact to stop the first person walking away from the simulation. ]

Can you tell me what that was?

[ Maybe it's cheating. Maybe he might as well just plug in for himself. But getting a secondhand account of what he'd be getting into seems helpful in this mess of unknowns. ]
006: GETTING IN
[ Even in a scifi novel, certain things remain unchanged.

The criminal element exists here. Stefan makes his way down to it, vanishes into it. He's trying to observe. If so much goes unnoticed here, would the kinds of crimes he's considering escape observation as well? There must be some trick to all of it. If he's patient—

If he's patient, he's going to solve one problem and land himself with another.

He taps the bottom of the glass gently against the top of the bar. He's going to need to drink more if he plans on staying here. The fights are picking up. The scent of blood is going to start cutting through the other scents in the air. And speaking of— ]


You can stay if you're going to share that bottle.

[ People from the safe house smell a certain way. There's a few scent markers that Stefan hones in on, focusing on that rather than the cacophony in the fighting ring. He tips his glass to the seat opposite him in silent invitation. ]
013: GO NUTS
[ do whatever!! ]
gasping: (359)

006.

[personal profile] gasping 2019-05-19 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[ caroline goes to the fight clubs occasionally. she has friends who fight, others who bet; she mostly likes an excuse to flirt at the bar for free drinks, the excuse to practice charm rather than compulsion to get what she wants. tonight's been relatively successful — she hasn't quite managed to convince someone to buy her a bottle of the top shelf bourbon she likes, but she's managed to snag something a few steps above the moonshine offered at the halloween festivities, so she's reasonably content.

that is, until a familiar voice stops her dead in her tracks. ]


... Stefan?

[ when did he get here? how did he get here? and why is this the first she's seeing him? ]

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legionare: (Default)

antillar maximus | codex alera

[personal profile] legionare 2019-05-19 06:12 pm (UTC)(link)
01 χ NETWORK
[Bad username or site: maximus @ antillar]

crows, this is still strange to me
i'm in desperate need of food and wine
and perhaps company, if anyone is feeling so inclined


02 χ RESOLUTION DAY
[ max heard "festivities" and had promptly decided to go. so much about this world is still utterly incomprehensible to him and he cannot imagine ever making sense of it all - there are no furies in this world and everything looks utterly different from anything he knows, but there are many comforts here even without the furies. max is still getting used to not having access to his own crafting, but it is what it is. he can't quite bring himself to complain about it, because to complain would mean having to explain.

tavi would know what to make of all this, but tavi isn't here. it's a blighted mess, really. festivities seem like just the thing to distract max from all that. so he goes, dressed in something they call 'hoodie' and 'jeans' and 'sneakers'. there's something in his head now to communicate with, something that works better than any fury-assisted communication ever could, and there is something in his chest that glows blue when he touches another of the displaced and he can't make sense of it - right. he needs a distraction.

(he is a cursor and he files more away of the things that are strange and new than he will admit to, but that is neither here nor there.)

at the festival, he finds food and so it's with a grin that is streaked with some dark sauce that he turns to someone else, ]
Have you tried this? It's good. [ the words are only somewhat mumbled on account of the food still in his mouth. ]


03 χ A MONSTROUS ATTACK
[ the creature is large - as large as one of the great furies, really. max looks at it for a moment, caught between confusion and something else entirely, and then instinct and training kick in and he bellows at others in the vicinity to move. he's obviously used to barking orders just as he is used to having them barked at him.

at some point, when he spots someone who seems competent, who seems to know what is happening, he approaches. ]


I need a sword and a shield.

[ he doesn't know how to handle the weapons of this world, but give him a sword and a shield and he'll be fine. (or not - the thought comes unbidden. he has no furycrafting to rely on, here, and it's been over a decade since he'd last so much as held a sword without using at least a hint of metalcrafting, but it cannot be helped. people are dying. he will not stand by and idly watch. he is a legionare and for all that he has no legion here, no brothers to stand by his side and fight with him, he will fight.

besides, he always knew he would die sooner rather than later. all he asks is to do it with a sword in his hand.) ]


04 χ WILDCARD
[ anything goes ]
sufferances: commissioned from <lj user="cupnoodles"> | dnt (pic#5540253)

@stefan.salvatore

[personal profile] sufferances 2019-05-19 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
What's strange to you? This place?

There's always company in the safe house. I'm not sure about the wine though. Might have to get that brought in.

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001 | @goro.akechi

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crimewall: (005.)

stiles stilinski | teen wolf

[personal profile] crimewall 2019-05-19 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
> 01: FESTIVITIES
[ okay, so, carnivals-slash-festivals? nnnnnot usually what stiles would call his thing. he's a little too unathletic to give normal carnival games a shot and the food is usually way over priced and way weird. the food here is still weird. (eugh, he's still not used to eating bugs, and is really trying hard to just. not think about it.) but these are future festival games and who says no to a whole huge street that's been set up for laser tag??

stiles is looking maybe a little manic as he bounces on his toes near the laser tag entrance, keeping an eye out for anyone vaguely familiar. ]
Hey, hi, how you doing? You heading this way? [ he points over his shoulder. ] 'Cause I'm totally down for a game if you need a teammate.

[ he... might be good at it? honestly, he's not expecting much of himself, but. future laser tag. ]

> 02: NETWORK
[ [profile] mieczysław.stilinski ]

Anyone else finding this whole implant/visual overlay thing incredibly distracting? No? Just me?
Guess it wasn't really designed for people with ADHD in mind.
You know, assuming that's still a thing in the future.

> 03: WILDCARD
[ go nuts! hit me up with whatever!! ]
sufferances: commissioned from <lj user="cupnoodles"> | dnt (pic#5540258)

@stefan.salvatore

[personal profile] sufferances 2019-05-19 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
I think it takes some getting used to. But I haven't exactly figured out all the settings yet, so I don't have any real advice.

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doubledoctornocitrus: (genuine pleased)

Rodney McKay | Stargate Atlantis

[personal profile] doubledoctornocitrus 2019-05-20 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
.002 Network

[Bad username or site: rodney @ mckay]
While I'm deeply concerned about the gross violation of my person with respect to the implantation of the neural device, is anyone besides me having more fun than is legal being able to control things with their mind? And just out of curiosity, did any of the rest of you who weren't born here have anything nearly so invasive or so useful?

.003 Food trucks!
The sheer quantity of food trucks serving every delicacy apparently known to man in this awful city is the one truly redeeming feature of a festival that seems determined to involve Rodney at every turn. He's been systematic about taking advantage of this particular opportunity. First: hound the vendor about ingredients. Second: Add the food to his list that he's literally keeping in his head regarding his feelings about whatever delicacy he's about to partake in. Third: Cuss out vendors who leave off important ingredients such as ones he's allergic or really, really doesn't like.

Honestly, the worst part about the sheer quantity of fish is the equally massive quantity of lemon incorporated into dishes that contain it. Turning to the nearest festival-goer unlucky enough to be within McKay radius, he thrusts his most recent fishy acquisition into their hands and says, "Here. This one would probably kill me."

Without waiting for a response, he begins to berate the vendor (who gives as good as they take after the first shocked instant).

.006 Hoverbike chase!
The question really isn't 'why was Rodney McKay trying to enter a den of vice and iniquity and also possibly crime?' The question is 'how useful is an engineering degree and experience hot-wiring alien vehicles?'

The answer is 'very, incredibly useful.' The hover bikes are an Earth-based technology, too, and their innards doubly easy to manipulate. Granted, he hadn't expected his attempt to gain entry into the horrifying dystopian speakeasy to explode in quite so dramatic a fashion. He really hopes he's stealing the bike of one of the people after him, though. Depriving the chaser of their vehicle is practically the first law of intergalatic fugitism.

He glances at the innocent bystander who...probably is in the wrong place at the wrong time (?) and offers in a harried, slightly panicky tone of voice, "You want me to fix one up for you, too? Because, uh, they're...not happy with me and unless you get a move on you might get caught in the--"

Fluttering one hand at the side of his head, he slips the connection, shorts the starter, and crows a triumphant, "Ahha!" just as some very tough customers boil out of the shady establishment at his back and proceed to do a lot of pointing and yelling.

[Tbh, this is absolutely just an excuse for a hoverbike chase.]

.008 Kaiju!
Rodney does have to say that 'Kaiju' is not something he had seen coming. As such, he's caught out on his way from point A to point B when the first earthquake-like shocks hit, and he's not under cover (though not for lack of running screaming) when the actual giant monster and the tiny baby monsters it sheds like murderous dandruff start menacing his escape route.

Never let it be said that Rodney shirks his heroic opportunities. By which means Rodney shrieks extremely loudly and starts herding everyone in the cut-off crowd with him away from the horrifying dog-like pus-creatures intent on their rampage. "This way!" There has to be a door to some sort of shelter in that direction also--and it has the added bonus of less Kaiju-lite blocking their way.

...the problem being the monster at their back. Luckily, Rodney is a pro at ordering people around. He points at a likely candidate caught in the crowd with him and says, "You--you look dangerous. Go...go kick it or hit it or something."

.012 Space!
While the position is far, far beneath him--a minor engineering on a barge weighted down with commodities and headed for the lunar colony--he needs credentials and his new identity doesn't have any to speak of. Plus, tending the engines is the best and most immediate way to poke around a real life example of this Earth's space-faring technology and compare it to the X-series tech he's familiar with.

Unfortunately, that means he's trapped in a small space with the unwashed also crewing the barge. At least the trip is short. Still, a man must eat.

The itsy bitsy crew mess (or whatever they called it) wasn't crowded, thank goodness, and Rodney didn't exactly feel compelled toward small-talk, but it was either that or try and find something else to look at in the shoebox they were expected to eat their meals in.

"So," Rodney said, and the word was as excruciatingly awkward in the otherwise quiet as he feared it would be. He forged onward. "What do you do?"

.013 Wildcard!

[I default to prose, but brackets are good too! I'll match.]
Edited (whups html) 2019-05-20 02:59 (UTC)
justbeginning: (are you quite sure about that)

.002 slams into networknanigans

[personal profile] justbeginning 2019-05-22 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ from, predictably, [Bad username or site: elizabeth @ weir]. and idk i figure we can noodle incident a reunion thing just to not theoretically have to thread it twice if i app but i am very excited either way. i'm love rodney, that's the important thing i used 20 million words to say in these brackets.

Elizabeth is also love Rodney. He is a pillar of familiarity in trying times. ]


Now why did I have a feeling that "more fun than is legal" would come into this eventually?

:D :D :D :D

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feasible: (pic#13159299)

raven reyes — the 100, cw: idk high on paint fumes??

[personal profile] feasible 2019-05-20 08:40 am (UTC)(link)
> 001. explore the changes
( she’s been changed? what does that even mean? what else is she going to have to learn to live with? she can’t help feeling violated by the concept ( at a higher intensity than what’s expected ); first her leg, then finn, sinclair, the whole mess with A.L.I.E. where she not only nearly lost her mind but also her life, and now this? what happens when she runs out of things to lose? pity festival, party of one. she has to get away from people at that point to stop wallowing and that is a huge enough distraction for raven.

the world. the whole world.

this must be what the planet looked like before—just before.

that split second where she's grinning as radiant as the sun is wiped away because she's not paying attention to trivial things like traffic when she steps off of a curb ( and that means she's probably going to get hit by a bus ), and someone grabs her wrist to save her. stop her from doing something dumb and accidental. she's not really thinking straight with everything she's trying to keep under wraps. it's just a whirlwind of anger and confusion, and a layer of constant ( occasionally dull ) pain. she's out of the street, rescued from being pancaked but she is not grateful. she wrenches her arm back harder than she means to, putting an unintentional amount of force behind it — strength that's unbelievable for a person of her size ( or anyone's ) to have.
)

Don't touch me! ( she snaps and watches it all unfold in a blink. a shocking, disturbing blink. and raven can't run, not well, not with her leg brace but she sure is getting the hell out of there with a quick: ) I'm sorry.

>002. network
@raven.reyes

First things first: bravo on the protein bites. You have to admire the resourcefulness. And the hot sauce. Did I mention the hot sauce?

( oh, what? she can’t make light of the situation now? screw that. if she’s going to eat crickets or grasshoppers ( and she’s probably consumed worse ), she’s not about to throw a hissy fit about it. )

I want to talk to an engineer. A mechanic. Whatever. I want to help. Just point me in the right direction.

> 003. safehouse

( after that unsettling realization, raven sequesters herself away. it doesn't last more than a few hours before she gets restless. back home she'd never had a lot of moments devoted to sitting and reflecting. in some ways, that was nice. not having to deal with anything, being able to bottle, always having something to do and in others it had probably been detrimental to recovery. raven doesn't see it that way, though. she teeters perpetually between it is what it is, suck it up and i'm freaking awesome, let me at it. there's practically another computer program in her head and she doesn't know what she's supposed to do with that. what she's supposed to feel.

so she doesn't.

she asks someone for some paint, promises them a favor ( nothing weird, that's a dealbreaker ), and goes to town on the room she's apparently staying in. and no, she doesn't run it by the "big guys" first. if they have a problem with it, they can come fix it. she doesn't specify a color because she doesn't care as long as it's not grey — the go-sci-ring was dull and plain and void of color, not that she'd come up for air the three months she was up there, up to her eyeballs in wires and alarms, but. whatever.

the paint's green, actually. she smiles for monty and goes to town on a random corner closest to her cot, most likely speckled with it by the time someone finds her.
) I wouldn't come in if I were you. Not unless you want your brain like you like your stars. ( get it? get it? she points with the roller, smile present but wavering as she tacks on: ) High.

( that joke is in no way, shape, or form funny but raven laughs regardless. she might need a break from the fumes. )
Edited 2019-05-20 08:44 (UTC)
heliophilous: (【ONE HUNDRED FORTY SEVEN】)

003: safehouse

[personal profile] heliophilous 2019-05-20 12:47 pm (UTC)(link)
I didn't even know we were allowed to do this.

[ marcos hears the warning but he doesn't actually heed it because now he's curious especially after a line like that. he steps in and there's paint everywhere. on the walls, on the bed, on her and one corner of his mouth wants to lift in a half smile. ]

Hell, I didn't even know there was paint available.

[ he'd stayed in the safehouse awhile before finally moving out and he'd just kept everything dull and grey. might have helped his mood if he'd gone for something like this.

being high might have helped too but you snooze, you lose or however that goes. ]

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recentre: (pic#12919165)

jemma simmons | aos

[personal profile] recentre 2019-05-20 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
001 || EXPLORE THE CHANGES
[ one of the agents had used the word overwhelming, but as jemma finds herself stepping out into the streets of this city - some city called new amsterdam - she finds that overwhelming doesn't even quite begin to cover it. catastrophic, maybe. deafening. the last thing she remembers, really truly remembers, is fitz's hand through the storm. the roaring of wind, of chaos, of danger in her ears. but she does remember him, and his hand, his real, solid hand grasping onto hers.

the next thing she remembers are fragments of thoughts, the haz of sedation, and then being pulled out of a van. being set in an alley. she heard whispers of powers, of new worlds, of morningstar, and then she was in a safehouse. was given new papers, a new identity, told to keep her head down and keep a low profile and she'd be fine. it was her training that kicked in, then. new name, new identity, new place. keep safe, watch your back. don't mention their name. she nods along, goes through the motions, until she's back out into the streets. among the rest of the people.

and that's when she starts to panic.

there are too many people. too much noise. she can feel the tension of it all start to rise from her lungs, to fill her throat. she can't breathe, and the noise is too loud. everything is too loud, and too bright, and too much.

this was a mistake.

she moves to cover her eyes, then, trying her best to work her way through the crowd. it doesn't help much at all, considering the more panicked and upset and scared the feels, the more she seems to notice. little bits and pieces of information about people she thinks she must have bumped into, but all it does is add to the cacophany of noise in her head. ]


F-Fitz? [ that is who she is looking for, that who is she needs to find, but even then her voice feels too quiet and too soft in the face of everything else.

how good are you at managing a panic attack? ]
009 || WHERE THERE'S SMOKE
[ it doesn't take long for jemma to jump into action. whether it's a vague sense or normalcy in the face of unending, absolute chaos, or the fact that the firefighters seem to have other business to take care of that isn't actually dealing with the sick makes it impossible for her to just stand aside. she's still on edge through it, but something about this situation is easier for her to handle. easier to move and get involved.

she's out in the thick of it as soon as she can - how she's got a flashlight, she's not too concerned with. but before she really knew what she was doing, jemma found herself near the medical centers, helping calm those affected by the smoke and fires. smoke inhalation shows itself in various ways, and she knows the basic medical responses. the cannisters of oxygen and masks, settling any of those still panicked. her demeanor is gentle, and she'll even give a small smile. ]


'ts alright, really. Just breathe. [ does she realize that the hand she'll leave on whoever she's treating arm is helping with other symptoms? well. not at first. as long as you let her keep her hand there for long enough. ] Anything else hurt? What happened to you down there?
XX || WILDCARD
[ COME AT ME HOMIES!!!! @ disarmingly on plurk or otherwise i can roll with anything. c: ]
retravel: (007)

😍😍😍😍😍

[personal profile] retravel 2019-05-20 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ fitz misses the drop-off or perhaps even longer. mission pulling him elsewhere, pulsar meeting dragging over, something tearing him away, so he missed her, too. of course he did. they always slip through each other's fingers, pried apart by the cosmos itself if not their mundane obligations. doesn't know that he just missed jemma anne simmons this time, however, making his way down the main road at rush hour with little urgency in his step.

it's no surprise that he sees her in the brunette across the way (he sees her everywhere, in lab techs that work late, the view from outer space, warm hands in his own, reassurances at his back), but he still stops to stare, breath caught in his throat at her familiar profile. this always happens. his feet carry him forward before he says anything, ready to bump into her casually and feel a familiar disappointment sink in his gut. she whirls, short hair whipping after her (shorter than he remembers, but their captors always cut it down) and everything else blurs. for a moment, he thinks he'll pass out.

the odds of her being here are infinitesimal. that she'd arrive and find him is impossible. ]


Simmons! [ called out, not loud enough. too quick, too desperate. ] Jemma!

[ elbowing his way through commuters, aggressively enough that a man shoves him aside with a sharp, watch it. takes him aching moments to reach her, shaky fingers reaching for her hand, her arm, her shoulders (the bond bleeds relief and warmth, barely covering the longing underfoot). it might be that he's trying to embrace her, even if he doesn't realise it.

he'd know her anywhere. this time, she has to be real. ]
Edited 2019-05-20 23:31 (UTC)

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wildcard / 10 👀

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👀 👀 👀 👀 👀

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HELP HER DAISY

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impede: (Default)

goro akechi | persona 5

[personal profile] impede 2019-05-21 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
a. the network ([Bad username or site: goro @ akechi])

[This whole situation is ... unfavorable, to say the least. Forced to hide from the public eye like he's a criminal. Showing up in a new world should be full of wonder, but then—he had that wonder once, didn't he? Where did it lead him?

Perhaps he should be grateful for the opportunity.]


Wow, I never would have thought that I'd get to be on a spy network. That is what this is, correct? Hidden from the world, and yet everyone talks about things like parties and elections like it's any other kind of social media. Perhaps I've missed the truly good conversations, but don't worry—I intend to do a fair amount of backreading.

For now, I'm happy to introduce myself. As you can see, I'm Goro Akechi. I was a detective in the my world, and quite the prodigy. No, that's not bragging, it's simply ... a sign of my accomplishments. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that I won't be able to build up the same reputation here. There are a lot more people crammed in even less space.

That just means my efforts will need to be directed toward our situation. I've been informed that we've made very little progress over the past few months. I don't want to speak too boldly, given that I have quite a bit to catch up on, but I'm hoping that my experience can be of some assistance to everyone. Is there anyone who's working on something who would like an assistant? I promise I won't intrude too much on anything you're doing, but I have to get to work.


b. the changes (power display)

[There is no need for Akechi to freak out when his power comes into play. No, he's never seen one of his victims first hand, but he's imagined it well enough that he knows what it'll do. Manipulating them with desperation, driving them a little mad—that kind of psychosis and lack of control is truly ... something.

Of course, it's not psychosis or a berserking tendency that he induces, but self-destruction. When he passes it on to the woman who speaks so shallowly in his space, he doesn't know what to expect. Yes, his chest glows, and she catches it—but then she's distracted. Walking away and picking a fight. Punching someone in the face and asking them to destroy her.

Fascinating—until it ends, and she's forced to her knees, lost and confused. Five minutes. Five minutes is sometimes enough to ruin someone's life if they lose it while driving a train, but here? It's far from it. But then, he didn't know her. What he did was ... testing.]


Well, I have to say that I'm glad she came to her senses.

[Because it's not like he did that. Not at all.]

c. food blogger time

[Yes, among his other hobbies of trying to politically destroy a nation systemically and set up a foundational rivalry with the Phantom Thieves, Goro Akechi is a foodie. A food blogger in some circles, though he doesn't draw a lot of attention to his blog, lest he get a lot of inane comments about how he reviewed a place poorly for some reason or another. His taste in food shouldn't cross with his detective work in any way. It shouldn't.

But here he is, disgusted, because no one should ever try to pack sausage skins full of bugs and cumin and then pass them off as ... Mexican fusion. He swallows his taco down while looking a little pale.]


I'm surprised they're still in business, [he says, uncharacteristically mumbling.

And then, a little brighter, he offers his food to someone nearby:]
Would you like to finish this? My eyes were much too large for my stomach, it turns out.

d. dreams?

[Akechi stands on an apartment balcony watching some UNA soldiers pass by. It's after curfew, and he's nowhere near his apartment. But then, he doesn't know where his apartment is—nor does he expect to be able to find it in this version of reality. Because it is a different version. His arms come to press against the railing of the balcony, eyes scanning the area. He doesn't see anyone out there, but he knows someone fled into this building with him.]

Looks like we're sitting ducks for now. They were able to tell that we're not meant to be here. [Akechi sounds a bit disappointed.]

But odd, isn't it? They told me these were dreams, but they seem to be more like a twisted recollection of the world we know. And if they are someone's dreams, whose are they?

[As someone who's been to the subway known as Mementos, he has a few ideas.]

e. wildcard

[What it says! Anything goes. Akechi is a pretentious teenager who's done Bad Things. Time for a fresh start!]
watcherless: (pic#2503611)

C

[personal profile] watcherless 2019-05-21 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
Thought you'd never ask.

[ Faith's not going to complain about free food. Ever. She's got a thing about that. In fact, she'd been eyeing Akechi's food for a while now, so her hands are across the table to pull his plate around before the sentence is even fully out of his mouth.

Only once she has one of the bug-sausages in her mouth does she think to ask:
] Why are you surprised?

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neutralally: (pic#6339987)

worick arcangelo | gangsta.

[personal profile] neutralally 2019-05-21 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
002. network

[Bad username or site: worick @ arcangelo]

So who else here is taking a massive hit in finding future income opportunities thanks to the make-over those mysterious bastards who dropped us here gave us? Now I don't doubt that my charm alone could bring me new clients to set up shop with, but it's so much easier with my looks to fall back on. The shaved-looks-like-I-just-got-out-of-prison do just isn't cutting it.

So? Question for those who've been around this block way longer then I have, what are your hair-care, or lack thereof, secrets? Or should I just place a bag over my head for a couple of months and call it a day?


006. getting in

[Coming to in New Amsterdam had been a lot like arriving in Ergastulum for the first time, minus the nightmares, but feeling altogether just as traumatic. What had followed had been long weeks of trying to find his balance, trying to blend in while also staying aware of what was going on in the city. Ingratiating himself to anyone and everyone who could feed him relative information, hidden behind the guise of polite smiles and easy flirting. He had built himself a name once in one city, and he can do it again here. It just took a little time.

Getting into the club, in the end, hadn't been much trouble at all. He'd had his eye on it for the past week, discreetly watching the comings and goings of its most powerful clientele. His surveillance had given him names, faces, and the beginnings of a schedule he had painstakingly put together. Now, tonight, all it had taken to get through the door had been the right name in the right ear, a little cash into the right hand, and a small lie regarding his employment.

Inside, Worick sets himself up at one of the tables in the back, sitting so that his back is to the wall and he's facing the rest of the club. The perfect vantage point. Nursing a vodka shot, he seems content to sit back and watch.]


009. where there's smoke

[If there is one lesson Worick is learning the longer he remains in New Amsterdam, it's that it doesn't take much for everything to go to shit. When the fires had started he had been more then happy to leave it up to the firemen and other hero types. He's certainly no one's hero and isn't looking to be. But what happens when all your hero types attempt to save lives and come out of it infected by smoke inhalation and the overwhelming urge to punch everything? Bullshit.

Of course the cure has to be the one thing he's been very careful about since arriving in New Amsterdam. Touch. Touching others that are displaced to be specific. The very thought of having his emotions manipulated by someone else's and vice versa makes his skin itch and the scar across his damaged eye throb.

He's no hero, but he's not the type prone to inaction either. When he sees someone looking like they're about to strike someone physically, he gets between them and their target, reaching out for their nearest wrist, whether they're displaced or otherwise.

When he speaks, it's calm with a hint of exasperation.]
Alright, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath, sing kumbaya in your head, or whatever you feel is relaxing. If you still feel like throwing that punch in a couple of minutes I'll leave you to it.

010. a visit from the una

[Worick would never consider himself a fighter per se; his skills leaning more towards information gathering and strategy. But he's had to learn to defend himself over the years, or die young. Besides, who needs brute force when you can predict things about your enemy, catch them off guard, separate their numbers, and pick them off one by one.

He couldn't do it all by himself, of course. Which is where his little rag-tag group, formed completely under duress to stop the UNA soliders, comes in.

Crouching over one of the soldiers he's just knocked out, he systematically checks their body over for weapons, armor, and whatever else seems important enough, or interesting enough to take. Glancing up at one of his 'teammates', he offers a cheery grin and nods towards the other knocked out solider laying a few feet away.]


You already strip him? Find anything good?

013. wildcard

[For anything and everything else! You can hit me up at [plurk.com profile] NearTheHeart for plotting.]

@alex.benedetto

[personal profile] windowsills 2019-05-21 08:42 am (UTC)(link)
I don’t think you have to go as far as a bag, Worick. Maybe a change in clothing style would work better.

[ she’s about to commit sin here ]

Have you ever considered jeans?

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soldier_blade: (mkx_profile)

Sonya Blade | mortal kombat X

[personal profile] soldier_blade 2019-05-22 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
Network

[Gen.SBlade
[Using the 'implant' in the back of her head to send messages seems out of a bad scifi movie plot, but it's all she has at the moment until she can get a better reading on this place.]
This is General Sonya Blade. I know that doesn't mean much, if anything to anyone, but right now my tolerance for bullshit has reached red level readings.

[For all she's trying to keep her voice and expression modulated, it's clear she's just several seconds away from verbally lashing out.] Is this sort of thing a regular occurrence? People..strangers..waking up in vans, medically operated on and then dropped off like this? Why and for what purpose?

Also, is there really no way of outside communication? Hell, I'll take sorcery if it means I can contact my home realm.
[She had only just started patching things up with Cassie and Johnny, why the hell was this thrown on her now.

Resolution day

Day one into her time being stuck here, she had to get out of the Safehouse if she wasn't going to loose her mind either. The festival also offered the chance to speak with those who'd been here longer; if she wanted a good idea about this place, she'd put more stock into them than into any sort of 'organization' or propaganda.

She kept by the outskirts of the crowd, not trusting herself to react if someone accidentally brushed against her. The way she was feeling, any poor sucker that tried would end up with a black eye or worse.

By chance she happened across one of the food trucks, the smell actually making her a little hungry. Stress and being lost in a new place had killed her appetite the previous day, and she could almost say she was willing to try what was on offered. Hell, if everyone was eating it, it had to be safe.

She did take a closer look at the signs of what was being offered. "Is there anything that's not fried or have bugs as an ingredient?"

Years of her mother's cooking and military issued chow gave her a stomach of iron, but after dealing with D'vorah, she had to draw the line somewhere.

Monster attack

The advantage of being a light sleeper (when she actually got sleep, atleast) was that it took very little to wake her up. As such, she all but jumps out of bed when the earthquake hits. Then there's the sirens, and that was all it took for Sonya to throw some shoes on and run out to find what the hell was going on.

A look from a passing window had her change direction. That she was unarmed, without back up or even a plan didn't matter. She hadn't survived this long in the army by going completely by the book (something her daughter clearly inherited), and like hell was she going to hide in a shelter when others were risking their lives.

Half hour later would find her fighting off demon-dogs with a large crowbar pilfered from a hardware store. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. "Behind you!"

That was as much a warning she could give before sending the hooked end of the bar into the skull of a mutant dog.

Wildcard
Have a different prompt idea? Hit me up on on plurk @ Rschwartz501, or PP this journal. Will match format.
Edited 2019-05-22 00:53 (UTC)
neutralally: (pic#6340065)

monster attack

[personal profile] neutralally 2019-05-24 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
If asked during a time of safety what he would rather be doing during an emergency, Worick would have cheerfully replied that hiding in a shelter while all the fighters and hero types put their lives on the line would be just fine with him. After all, he's not a fighter, not really. He's just highly skilled at surviving. But he's also not nearly as selfish and self-absorbed as he'd like people to believe; and there are still a lot of defenseless and scared people being hunted by these monsters.

A sharpened knife pierces the skull of a demon-dog chasing after a man and a child. The creature crumples to the ground and Worick approaches, wrenching the knife out of its skull with a hard twist. He doesn't notice the other demon-dog approaching until it's almost too late, as if comes at him from his blind side. His reflexes are quick though, and Sonya's voice gives him just enough warning to twist out of the way before her crowbar comes down on the monstrous dog.

He lets out a deep breath he's only just realized he's been holding before turning to face her fully, his eye giving her a quick glance up and down. "That was one hell of a close call. Another few seconds and you might have brained me with that thing too."

He grins, the picture of relaxation, if you don't account for the blood on his shirt, the slight tension in his shoulders, or the way his eye keeps moving side-to-side to check their surroundings.

Re: monster attack

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wiggyboard: (so why don't you blow me a kiss)

klaus hargreeves | umbrella academy

[personal profile] wiggyboard 2019-05-23 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
1: such a lovely place [arrival arrival]

[Being transported whilst drugged and restrained was already Klaus Hargreeves' regular Sunday Funday prior to his arrival. He has, perhaps, been the former of his own accord, and been the latter in both trunks of cars and very awkward Uber pick-ups. So it is with an unprecedented grace that he strides out of whatever back alley hot spot his destination was, head held high and chin turned up with the sort of dazed glaze over in his eyes. His hands are absently untucking the end of his scrubs to tie it into a tighter fitting shirt, reminiscent of a crop top despite its garrish mint green.

And then the world hits, and there is a man laughing himself into hysterics on the streets of New Amsterdam. He stumbles over himself as he starts down the sidewalk, running his hand over his head and belting out "oh, that's new!" and "I'd rather they tattoo my ass than make me look like a skinhead, but, oh! Oh well!" with little regard for passersby. His laughter eventually descends into faint little disbelieving chuckles under his breath, and eventually, eventually, he catches his bearings enough to notice You.

He spins on his heel, windmilling his arms with the abruptness of the turn. And, unfortunately, he's making his way over with that sort of alms, alms for the poor vibe about him, hands outstretched and smile off in its abject falseness. There isn't an escape. He's going to walk alongside if the idea is entertained.]
Guten Tag! Bonjour! Oh, if you, if you could just answer a question for me, just a question—I seem to be missing from the time travel lost and found, could you direct me to the nearest... suitcase store? Is it still suitcases? Or maybe they've upgraded to some sort of watch, or car. Either way, I'm looking to Mcfly out of here. Fly the coup. Caterpillar to butterfly...

[He might just keep going, if he's not interrupted.]

2: such a lovely face [network]

[Bad username or site: seyonce @ knowles]

So what kind of names do they have for the pick me ups for the future. I'm asking for a friend you see. We've debated using the term greasing the gears but that really puts us in an entirely different position than what we're looking for doesn't it?

Also the whole music situation. Did ABBA survive the mix or have we experienced a total societal collapse without them?


3: livin' it up in hotel california [using distractions]

Now, my mother dearest was much prettier than me, [Klaus announces, as he drags a seat next to yours closer and promptly deposits himself into it, raising a leg to hang over the chair arm. He's wearing a jacket that's more patches than it is original fabric and a mismatching pink feather boa that's dark and stained enough to say it was fished from the trash. It has a banana stick on the neck. His pants are leather. His shoes are... lacking. They're sandals, and he cracks his toes before he goes on.] Because she always looked... mm, like the perfect housewife you see in the pre-Golden Girls era. But she was a robot, so her feelings weren't really considered.

[And Klaus, in the mystery that is the interaction that might be part flirting, part therapy session, reaches for whatever food is in front of you like you've already given him permission to share. Or maybe he's reaching over you to steal while your neighbor isn't looking.] And I always felt so terrible for her to have a son that didn't really do anything about that. Did I ever ask her about her day? No. I didn't have any manners.

4: [wildcard]

[Klaus can be found in the other prompts as a degenerate background character, particularly near the History Lessons simulations and establishments in Criminal Activity. He's more than likely to be scouting out things he can potentially pawn and getting his hands on some future substances, so if you want a prompt like that arranged just hit me up here or at [plurk.com profile] meganerd and I'll throw you some ideas!]
Edited 2019-05-23 03:15 (UTC)
resleeves: (T H R E E)

network

[personal profile] resleeves 2019-05-23 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[Bad username or site: takeshi @ kovacs]

why not just call them pick me ups? seems to fucking work, doesn't it? and now you don't put some weird sexual mechanical fantasy in everyone's head.

besides, the name isn't important. getting your hands on them is.
Edited 2019-05-23 14:13 (UTC)

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thancred waters | final fantasy xiv

[personal profile] credal 2019-05-23 05:48 am (UTC)(link)
001: explore the changes
[Scared, stressed, confused or even angry? Indeed, Thancred is feeling all those emotions at the moment... But he's always been best at smothering all of these things down, no matter how overwhelmed he feels and hiding everything else underneath a veneer of cheer and charm.

He prefers striking out on his own, but he also knows when to be cautious-- which is why he does not leave the safehouse immediately. He wants to see how else the other Displaced in the vicinity are getting on. And perhaps gleaning an idea of what these "new powers" could be, given he now has lost his ability to channel aether. That's why he approaches someone with a small smile on his face, wishing to put them at ease.]


What do you make of this, if you don't mind my asking? Truth be told... I've naught a clue myself.

005: using distractions
[Charming people out of information and ingratiating himself with those around him: that's what Thancred is best at. And with how pretty he is... Well, Thancred isn't above using his appearance if it would benefit him, even if he hasn't had a chance to do so in a while, what with the whole... Ascian. Incident. But this is an opportunity to allow himself to become accustomed to such things once more, and he's loathe to let it pass him by, even if this is not to the benefit of the Scions, but of an organization he knows almost nothing about.

He always must keep his skills sharp.

Thancred makes sure he looks his best despite his awkward new situation, and moves in to make contact with his prey at the tavern-- or bar, as they call it. Of course, he does spare a nod to a fellow Displaced within the vicinity, before he begins to ply the "corporate executive" with honeyed words and subtle flattery, painting himself as a young, new and shy worker interested in climbing the ranks within the organization, and willing to do anything for it.

Whatever the other person is planning on doing, their best bet to accomplish it is now, when Thancred has his mark (and a few others around him) distracted.]

007: fight club
[Not having been a true gladiator and busy with his work for the Scions, Thancred never entered the Bloodsands despite his interest in trying it out at least once, and perhaps this time, he's allowed to go as close as he can to it, even if this arena is technically illegal.

And if he's being honest with himself (which happens far less often than one would think)... he's enjoying himself. His face may be bruised up from the previous fight, but he is in good spirits, and chatting up anyone he can while waiting for another chance at the arena. He's smiling as wide as he can with the mottled mess of his face, mostly responding to questions about his previous fight where he lost, but managed to come close to winning by being exceptionally sneaky with his twin daggers.

He's also open to being approached by others, either to commiserate or to be questioned about his unique battle style, given what he's currently speaking of.]


Oh, I regret that I've not much experience in such matters... But it was an enjoyable show, was it not?

wildcard
[go nuts! do whatever you want! feel free to pm me on this journal or pp me on [plurk.com profile] payoncave if you want to talk about whatever else you want to do]
verflair: (174)

GASP! also 001

[personal profile] verflair 2019-05-23 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ As luck would have it, apart from the comfort of his own home, the safehouse is the one place where X’rhun does not need to hide his less-than-human features. Feline ears and tail are left to be free as he chats with newcomers, though at the moment neither are visible because X’rhun has himself half in the refrigerator in the Safehouse’s small kitchen, seeking out sandwich ingredients.

Once he’s being addressed, though, he pops his head out, peering around the open refrigerator door at the man. He flicks an ear. ]


“This” is awfully broad, is it not? If you mean the refrigerator, I find it absolutely fantastic. If you mean our situation, it is decidedly less fantastic.

😘

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.007 Fight Club!

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yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhs

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arc7: (49)

velvet templeton / velvet

[personal profile] arc7 2019-05-24 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
002. the network


[Bad username or site: velvet @ templeton]
What does a girl have to do to get a cigarette around here?
I can pay in secrets.



006. getting in
[ She can't lie, she's always had a thing for the fast life. Souped up cars, drinks on the train, Heathrow to JFK, there was something appealing about going somewhere. But hover bikes are completely different speed, way beyond what the science division cooked up. She finds herself staring, watching a few of them pull up to the club.

If anyone asks, she seems apologetic. ]


What? Oh no, it's not mine. I've never even ridden one, if you can believe it.

[ She's definitely not planning on stealing a hoverbike. But she might do it anyway. ]


007. fight club
[ Velvet hasn't got a VIP pass, but does have a uniform stolen from the employee breakroom. The waitresses in this underground establishment don't wear very much— some of them use the outfit to show off various expensive body modifications— but that isn't what makes her uncomfortable as she approaches the VIP table.

She recognizes someone sitting there from the safehouse, sitting at table 1, the table she's supposed to be serving right now. What were they doing? Would they recognize her. Her free had works its way through the long wig she bought to cover the Mia Farrow pixie cut she's had since she got here. But she hadn't worn anything to disguise her face.

Velvet doesn't have much time to think. And so she decides without thinking to continue to play her role. Maybe in this outfit no one will pay any attention to her face.

Velvet places her drinks on the table and watches for any sign of recognition. ]


Is there anything else I can get you?


00X. wildcard

[ Surprise me or feel free to PM/hit me up at [plurk.com profile] lightfellows to plot. ]
Edited 2019-05-24 04:59 (UTC)
impede: (Default)

007

[personal profile] impede 2019-05-24 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
Yes. [Recognition comes easily to Akechi. Memorizing their faces is all but a necessity. The last thing he wants is to be caught off guard—that's happened once in his life. Once. He doesn't want to let it happen again. When she casually comes over, he humors her with a smile, right until the second time. He tries to look calm, sitting and nursing a drink that's honestly ... not that interesting. The fact that he can't just drink coffee in this damn world continues to be an irritant. And he can't just ask for it here.

No matter how tempting it is to pry that out of her.]


What's your goal here? We may be better off doing it together.

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easypromises: (Default)

Cloud Strife | Final Fantasy VII (Post-Dirge canonpoint)

[personal profile] easypromises 2019-05-24 10:17 am (UTC)(link)
004: History Lessons

There's something almost disconcertingly familiar about the virtual battlefield, and while Cloud is personally putting it down to the numerous ShinRa bots he remembered dealing with back during Meteorfall it's niggling at the back of his mind even as he falls easily in to the role of a soldier on a battlefield with whomever he's been partnered with.

"Aim for the joints first, makes it easier to take them out closer up." He advises quietly, once they've gotten the mission brief for their task.

007: Fight Club

While fighting with fists may not be his speciality, Cloud had sparred with Tifa often enough to be able to hold his own without a sword or six at hand, and while he knows full well that he doesn't exactly cut the most intimidating figure of the fighters assembled it's about the best place he's managed to hear of to actually find out how much he can do without the superhuman strength and speed that mako had given him.

That and it's an at least half decent way to get some pocket cash and make contacts.

008: Monsters

"Either get them inside, or help with these things!" Cloud half orders, wielding what is an almost comical weapon of a bat with a few oversized nails driven in to it against some of the crablike monsters. There's a handful of civilians he's fending the creatures off of.

Wild Card?
impede: (3334147 (17))

[personal profile] impede 2019-05-24 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
"Most demanding!" he remarks, waving a few people along. The weapon in Cloud's hands is truly ridiculous, but if he has the strength to handle it, that's fine. "Be careful not to let them get too close. Apparently they're venomous, and I don't know if there's a cure."

Would it be possible for there to be a cure? Akechi wonders, but doesn't stick around long enough to see. He'll be back in a few minutes, once he's ensured people are away from the venom themselves.

After all, he's a good Samaritan. Here to help.

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justbeginning: (patience please!!)

elizabeth weir | stargate: atlantis

[personal profile] justbeginning 2019-05-25 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
003.

[ She's not good at this. Or, well-- it's less about being good at something, and more about not being in much of a mood for it. Historically, having to leave Atlantis against pretty much all semblance of her own personal preferences has not sat well with Elizabeth.

Being in love with a very specific city and galaxy and expedition team narrows down the field of acceptable life changes. If this were a routine return to Earth, she'd be holed up in her apartment with yoga pants and living on frozen lasagna by now. As it stands, given the very serious nature of basically everything about arriving here and living here, she took a rain check on that.

(She still wonders if this is real. She's still not sure how she gets the answer so definitive that she believes it.)

But. Still. Elizabeth gets out. She's drawn to the food trucks and the historical displays in particular, though she does what she can to avoid the battle simulations. Not her cup of tea. Be a nerd, start digging into supposed future Earth culture at the ground level, and spend money on fusion food concepts. What's not to love? Catch her getting educated! Catch her slamming a single glass of wine from a karaoke stand bartender and then immediately leaving the karaoke zone. Definitely catch her looking to share some grasshopper pad Thai or whatever with anyone else in line for that same food truck. Because she is generous. ]


Would you like some? It tastes fine, it's just-- [ Hmm. No, she probably shouldn't say something like, "I've been to at least three other trucks already and this venture here is where I realize I'm pushing the limit. This is the closest I can get to living on frozen lasagna for a day and I have some amount of regrets."

Elizabeth scrunches her face up a little bit. There could be a wink in there. No one can prove it. Maybe she's having a nice time after all. ]


Well. It's either too leggy or it's not leggy enough. If you figure out which, let me know.


013.

[ Elizabeth is also going to be particularly interested in exploring the sky park scene and scoping out a few museums. It's nice to be able to meet her needs for aesthetic and for learning about what the deal is while she's here.

The parks are probably her favorite. Museums aren't all that different than ever, but she can say with full certainty that Atlantis and her Earth aren't sporting green thumbs on this scale. It's admirable, and it's not the worst way to take a break from crowded cyberpunk future city... in crowded cyberpunk sky park territory.

Atlantis is better, you can't change her mind, but she does have a lot of exploratory wonder for the universe and for seeing unique things, so she's approaching this with the requisite awe.

Look, she's doing the best she can. That's all anyone can do.

Other wildcards are all also fine, pretty chill about this stuff! I poured all my energy into the first prompt and here I am now, bereft. ]
ahinsa: (pic#12571181)

[personal profile] ahinsa 2019-05-26 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ Elizabeth may spot this little woman stepping out of bounds and into the enclosure as if the sky parks are her own private garden. She has left her shoes by the fence, walking barefoot on the recently turned soil and occasionally pressing her ear against the bark of a tree or reaching for the branches to grab a single leaf. Other visitors only feign ignorance to continue on their way as one does in a metropolis, others point and giggle, while only a few can be seen calling for the security to come and restore order.

She doesn't seem to notice, at first, reaching to pick a large green leaf with purple veins from a bush by her feet and proceeding to nibble on the tip of it. Then she calls out to Elizabeth, as if she has always known that she's being watched. ]


Hey. Try this. It's sweet.

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antihistamine: (💕 pic#13893107)

lottie person / snotgirl

[personal profile] antihistamine 2019-05-25 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
001. safehouse

a)

[ Lottie hasn't had a roommate since her sister moved out. And, okay, there was that one sketchy pale girl for like six months before she got her first sponsor but she's deleted all the photos from that era and so it doesn't count. Anyway the point is, this is a disaster.

She can be found trying to get someone to cook for her, sulking on a cot, and of course, sifting through the available clothes. She immediately finds a beanie to cover her newly-shaved head (traumatic! long hair is her signature!) but is naturally way pickier about the other things. ]


Maybe this could work. [ She holds up an oversized sweater. ] Like, if you cropped it? [ She isn't convinced. ]

b)

[ All of Lottie's things are gone! Her phone, her wallet, her super-cute candy red heels, and her allergy medication She should be able to file a complaint, honestly. And not long after arrival, Lottie feels her eyes starting to getting watery, and she bolts to the bathroom, with her hands covering her face. ]

You have to get out of here now!

[ This is an emergency! ]

002. network

[Bad username or site: lottie @ person]

hi!! you might not have heard of me (yet ♥) but i'm lottie and i'm a fashion blogger!! it's a bit rough to have to start all my social media from scratch but sometimes a blank slate can be refreshing!!

anyway i figure a lot of you are in the same boat so i wondered if anyone wanted to do a follow exchange?? or maybe collaborate! i'm always available for photos!! maybe we can share tips on how to work the buzzcut? (lol as if) there's no reason this feed has to be full of depressing things all the time tbh.
xoxo lottie


impede: (Kn4w5YL)

network | @goro.akechi

[personal profile] impede 2019-05-25 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
It appears that we're in the same boat. I was a food blogger and a famous detective in my world, and I've lost the notoriety of both.

I'd be happy to help you get started up again.


[Even if fashion bloggers are ... unimpressive to Akechi. To say the least.]

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NETWORK | @ren.amamiya

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agenda: | all by stockholm (❝baby's breath❞)

margaery tyrell / game of thrones

[personal profile] agenda 2019-05-26 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
004 / ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
[ the festival boasts a great many booths, but margaery stands before a game of sharpshooting, motioning over one of her fellow displaced with a flourish. whether she's been here for days or months, she appears at ease and dresses for the temperate fall in dress fitting of 2511's fashion. how she managed to acquire it without a steady income is anyone's guess.

bright eyes settle on her companion. ]


Will you teach me how to play?

[ never done it before, obviously, because she's a renfaire or a princess or w/e. odds are she's probably said enough to clue in any of the displaced to that already. ]

005 / A DISTRACTION
[ at a rooftop garden overlooking the river, a private festival affair is in full swing, with heavy-hitters and up-and-comers alike, including a rising political and charity worker on the scene, with her image beginning to catch the gaze of the world, due to a supernatural assist or two.

margaery favours her classic silhouette, nipped at the waist and low at the neck, with her hair tied back in a crown of braids. the blue of her dress seems to shimmer, holographic in the dappled sunlight of the garden. ]


There you are. [ offered with a tip of her head as she catches your arm, tough light. with convincing warmth and familiarity, her voice lilts into a stage-whisper, faux-chiding. ] I’ve been trying to steal you away all evening.

[ a glance at the suits across from them, eyes widening as if noticing their appearance for the first time. her mouth blooms into a smile. ]

Oh, you haven’t told them yet, have you.

[ hyping up your idea / status / charm, mate. just go with it. ]

NETWORK / [Bad username or site: MARGAERY @ TYRELL]
Hello, my fellow Displaced — or should call you the voyagers of the multiverse? We don't seem to stay put now, do we.

Forgive me if I misuse this network. Such things are not common in Westeros.


[ or Essos, or Sothoryos, she'd wager, though it’s evident she’s already memorised the welcome guide. ] 

My name is Margaery Tyrell, Lady of House Tyrell of Highgarden, rulers of the Reach, and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, but for want of House and Kingdom, I should think Margaery suits us all.

[ to offer this information freely is to diminish its worth in whispers. ]

I've heard there are gardens here, but I must confess my hesitance to travel alone. If anyone is able to spare a moment to indulge me, you would have my thanks.

WILDCARD.
[ catch margaery playing festival games, sharing her food with strangers, or returning to the safehouse with three dresses slung over her shoulder, having bargain-hunted and super-powered her way to future fashion even in these times of stress. feel free to go rogue, too! ]
Edited 2019-05-26 00:01 (UTC)
ahinsa: (Default)

NETWORK / @DUANAN

[personal profile] ahinsa 2019-05-26 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ To offer the information freely is also to invite open scrutiny, though here the intention is mere curiosity. ]

What does that mean? To be "Queen of the Seven Kingdoms"?

005

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lifepreserver: (you talkin bout me)

marty mcfly | back to the future

[personal profile] lifepreserver 2019-05-26 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
002: THE NETWORK
[Bad username or site: marty @ mcfly]

so 2511, huh?
uncharted territory even for me, but you know i thought this place might’ve been kind of cool at first
(we’re ignoring the whole “they-messed-with-my-hair-while-i-was-asleep-for-months-probably angle” for a minute, okay)

i feel like i’m on the set of blade runner but x 100
the virtual reality gaming seems really really real-looking and i like the way the city lights up at night

but now i’m sitting here, looking at my ice cream sundae, and there are BUGS ON IT
candy-coated BUGS. why?

why, new amsterdam?


003: ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
[So, bugs notwithstanding.

There’s still some entertainment to be had at the Resolution Day festival, possibly the biggest festival Marty has ever attended. It’s crowded, it’s full of flickering lights luring passerby’s in to engage in some VR shoot-‘em-up against killer robots, or something, he’s not sure. He had thought about giving it a try, but the line is long, winding, and Marty feels fidgety and brimming with nervous energy as he waits.

He leans out of the queue, just temporarily, stopping someone going the other way—]


Hey, is this thing worth the wait or what? My feet are starting to hurt.

[Later, after he’s had his VR “fun”, Marty always makes time for karaoke.

It isn’t so much a private booth as it is a tent, the attendant encouraging festival-goers to drop on in and participate in a singing contest. Winner gets a handful of free vouchers for a number of food trucks in the area, and it’s Marty’s turn to step up onto the stage, neon lights brimming in the background as the song ramps up and virtual lyrics crawl across the air above their heads.

As much as All You Need is Love by the Beatles can really “ramp up”, at least.

The mic he sings into judges pitch and adds a score to it accordingly. He’s paired up with someone else, and though the song isn’t really a duet, he might as well make it interesting. Marty sings into the mic, unfazed by the crowd grouped shoulder-to-shoulder within.]


—Nothing you can make that can't be made, no one you can save that can't be saved, nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time… It’s easy!

[“Your turn!” he mutters quickly, and stretches his arm out to tilt the microphone beneath the mouth of another fellow Displaced. It’s your time to shine, friend, because here comes the chorus.]


011: WHAT DREAMS MAY COME
[Sure, it’s a dream, but it’s still pretty terrifying when you’re being chased down by big soldiers in armor, guns gripped close to their sides as they thunder their way. And all Marty’s got is a hoverboard tucked under his arm, eyes widening as he’s undoubtedly garnered the unwanted attention of two patrol units now giving them chase across the skate park.]

You gotta be kiddin’ me! [A harried look to his companion, eyes wide.] Look, grab one of those— [He gestures at the many hoverboads floating mid-air on their own, some spinning in circles, others doing tricks along the deep dips and curves of the park without anyone riding them. Chalk it up to dream logic.]

—and let’s get the hell outta here!


WILDCARD
[Or something else!]
Edited 2019-05-26 23:08 (UTC)
gasping: (363)

karaoke!

[personal profile] gasping 2019-05-27 02:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ this is not caroline's favorite beatles song. she knows it — because everyone knows it, the same way they know aretha franklin and frankie valli, if not in full than at least the chorus — but it's not her favorite. hell, it's not even her favorite beatles song about love. that honor would go to "can't buy me love", thanks.

but if you're going to put a microphone in front of her face, marty, she's going to sing. it would just be a little more fun if the chorus wasn't the same line over and over again, so when the microphone is pulled away again, caroline stage whispers back: ]


Next time, I'm picking the song!

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002 | @sarah.connor

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servitor: (Default)

nyx ulric // kingsglaive: ffxv

[personal profile] servitor 2019-05-27 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
001
[Nyx Ulric was a no one with borrowed powers he lost.

Nyx Ulric is a no one with borrowed powers.

He's got a pounding headache, made worse by noise around him and the sheer confusion of this entire thing. By now, he's used to being thrown into bad to worse situations. He can't say, however, that he's ever been kidnapped, given fake paperwork, and told go your way while you incite a revolution.]


I'm not paid enough for this.

[It's all he manages to mutter as he starts to slowly rise in his half-drugged state. What does it say about him that this setting is nearly familiar?]

So we're supposed to be okay with just being kidnapped and fighting a war that's not ours?

[Hypocritical, he knows. Nyx signed up for the war against the Nifs after his home was destroyed, after his home was dragged into a war that wasn't theirs at first. Something hurts, something just feels incredibly sore all over the place. Hazy, cloudy, fuzzy, and he can't shake it.

What really gets to Nyx... is his lack of choice. He ran after the first chance he got to destroy and to save. Now he's been coopted into a conspiracy by force.

He needs food and water to push back the drug's effects. The decision made, he starts to slowly walk out of the safehouse and into the alley. Nyx doesn't actually know if it'll work, but he has to try. Gods, he's so damn tired and he just wants to get back to where he was and save the princess and the ring and ...

Nyx's hands suddenly feel... heavy. Oddly heavy. Not a drug-induced heaviness. This is weight. He holds his hands up...]


What the...

[When he holds his hands up, both look... transparent. Crystalline. The tattoos on his fingers are raised onyx bumps soldered onto clear hands with a blue and purple prismatic effect.]

Shit.

[Nyx shoves his hands into the pockets of his black coat before quickly plunging into the crowd. Once a refugee, always a refugee. He's never felt fully at home anywhere since the invasion. Now?

Now he feels like he's got a target painted on his forehead and his back. Would putting on his hood make him more obvious? Nyx doesn't risk it. What he does instead is muster his confidence and swagger to the infinite degree, plays to be a local and goes along with the passersby.

Of course, there's only so far he can go on pure intuition and observation alone.]


Where's a sign when you need it...

[He definitely looks like he's a man in search of a place. Lost, if you will.]

002
[This is your name. This is who you are.

Well, that made for an easy answer.]


[Bad username or site: nyx @ ulric]
this thing on? hell of a welcoming party, huh?

[Nyx Ulric everyone.]
variate: (Piece of dick.)

002 | @ren.amamiya

[personal profile] variate 2019-05-27 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Seems a little tame for a good party.
But not in the way that it might need livening up.

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klutziness: homette @ LJ (i love it)

rikku | final fantasy x-2 | CRAU

[personal profile] klutziness 2019-05-27 05:35 am (UTC)(link)
i. i never overthink it do what i want and i do it my way [safehouse]

[This is the second-least shitty welcome Rikku has ever endured during her dimension-hopping days. Five years, near enough, and Lachesis' has still been the most hospitable welcome party she's ever met. On The Tranquility, everyone had been understandably tense--and there had been literal monsters around just about every corner, ready to tear out their throats and minds. So that is what puts New Amsterdam nearly at the top of her I-guess-I'm-in-another-universe list.

And here she really thought it would end with two.

At least she gets to meet new people. That's what she tells herself, at least, trying to put a positive spin on the veritable dumpster fire that her life has become. And it works, in part. She's as chatty as she's ever been, telling anyone who will listen anything and everything about the past several years of her life, from her arrival in The City and her short stint as a superhero to hurtling through space on the S.S. Horrorship, as she none too fondly calls The Tranquility.

The longer she's in the safehouse, the more tools and scrap parts accumulate around her bed. Where did she get them? There's for her to know and nobody to ever find out. More often than not, when she isn't out wandering the city or stuffing her face in the kitchen (space food is the worst, and even bugs are better), she's sitting cross-legged on her cot, hunched over and fiddling with some miscellaneous device or bit of robot--machina, she'll insist--though it's impossible to tell to what end she's working. But if approached, she always chirps out a peppy:]


Heya, how's it shakin'?

[Even when she stays up to the wee hours of the night, long after she thinks everyone else has gone to bed. People keep weird hours in space, and adjusting is going to be hard. At least she has her little projects to keep her busy and her mind off everyone she's left behind.

For the second time.

Yeah, staying up super late working on nonsense machina is way better than thinking about any of that heavy stuff. Definitely.]


ii. i never try too hard i'm so awesome so effortlessly [festival > laser tag]

[Guns had been Yunie's thing after the Eternal Calm, but over the past couple years, Rikku has picked up a thing or two. She prefers her daggers, of course, because close-quarters make it much easier to snag something shiny or 'splody off someone in the heat of battle, but there's definitely something appealing about, you know. Not getting right up in someone's face when you're trying to kick their butt.

So when she finds out about the laser tag competition, she is in it to win it. She isn't intimidating by any means, but she's quick on her feet and good at squeezing into tight spaces, giving her the element of surprise.

Or it would, if she didn't burst out with a gleeful:]


Boo-ya!

[Every time she manages to shoot someone, completely ruining any cover she might have had.]

iii. watch me, take some notes 'cause i'm confident and i get it done [fight club]

[Rikku has exactly zero interest in the fight club itself. No, what she cares about are the hover cars and bikes parked outside. She's seen their like before--hell, shed helped build things like them before. And the tech may be different, but there are only so many ways to wire a vehicle that floats off the ground. Right? Right.

She hasn't done much slinking and skulking in a while, since there hadn't been much reason for it on The Tranquility, but she hasn't lost her touch. She manages to get up beside the hover bike below anyone's normal line of sight, and starts fiddling with the cover for the control box. Thieving hasn't been her main occupation in quite a while, and she might have felt bad about stealing this bike if she wasn't like 99.98% certain that it belongs to some scumbag who can probably afford to buy at least three others to replace it.

Supporting local business and ruining the night of some dude who has money to blow on losing bets seems fair. She was a hero once, after all.

She's got one eye on the guards by the door and the other focused on what her tricky little hands are doing. But she's only human, meaning she's only got two eyes. Hopefully they're enough.]


iv. i speak for the ones who do it best [network]

[Bad username or site: rikku @ highwind]

hey anybody got a spare set of jumper cables?
wait do they even use jumper cables here?
i haven't been able to get my hands on a hover-whatever yet so i'm not totally sure what they run on i guess

anyway

futuristic jumper cables, y/n?
and like any tools you aren't using
i don't care what they are, just tell me what they do
guesses or improvised uses are ok

also the microwave in the safehouse is a wip
i promise it'll work by tomorrow please let me keep sleeping here ♥♥♥

p.s. whoever is moving my machina
stop
there is plenty of space around my cot to move
stop kicking my stuff under the bed
you're gonna break it and i have literally no money to replace anything
my future mechfriends deserve better

p.p.s. glad to know bugs don't taste as gross as i always thought

p.p.p.s. jumper cable request and microwave upgrade are not related


v. that's right, my generation [wildcard]

[ooc; i'm down for anything! rikku is a heavy CRAU, with 2 games over 5 years under her belt. she was in cape&cowl (pre-mask or menace) for about three years, and then spent about two years in ataraxion, hurtling through space until the ship crashed and the game closed. this puts her at about 22 years old.

this CRAU is very expansive, and rikku has met a lot of characters over the years. because of this, i'm going to request a soft reset of her memories of anyone she may have met who is currently in the game, so she'll remember events and people in general, but not necessarily their names or faces.

feel free to hit me up on plurk at [plurk.com profile] watchet if you'd like to do anything specific or read a very, very long recounting of her history!]
Edited 2019-06-02 23:00 (UTC)

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