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MEADOWLARK MODS ([personal profile] larkers) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarking2019-12-22 02:40 pm
Entry tags:

TEST DRIVE MEME 008

> TEST DRIVE MEME #008

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 after being dropped off in a random part of the city 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 because of the nature of our arrival logs. 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.

Applications open every month on the 1st of the month at midnight UTC (00:00).


NOTE: The PCs have chosen to call themselves "the Displaced," and that's become the common parlance to refer to them.

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 your senses 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 that is hidden under an old hover bike shop. You aren't the first group that this has happened to: there are others not from this world who have experienced the same, with no recollection of how they came here. Like you, they have few answers about what's happened to them. 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 to do 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, but their fellow Displaced have found their footing enough to be able to help the newcomers. Two Morningstar agents will be around to take care of world integration and IDs – the rest will fall to the Displaced who arrived 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 the organization's branch 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 situated 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 big problems.

> EXPLORE THE CHANGES
Despite the lack of answers about why you're here, your fellow Displaced will be able to give you a rundown of the changes they've recognized in each other. Anyone who had powers before will find them gone. Anyone who was once an AI or in a completely artificial body will find that their current body is now fully human. Those with cybernetics will find that they've remained mostly untouched, though any primitive ones may be replaced with temporary ones that are improvements on the previous models.

NEW ABILITIES. In the place of any powers that were lost, there is now a new power. These abilities are unique to each of the Displaced and seem to update over a certain period of time, with the changes appearing thanks to critical emotional events. One thing that's apparent is that the power seems to be linked to the Displaced individual's personality or life before this one, shaped according to who they happen to be. When this power appears, their chest glows with a blue light that shines from their sternum, and it can be triggered by anything: natural inclination or a moment of great stress. If someone's out in public when this happens, they might want to duck under cover lest the blue glow from their chest and the unusual power's appearance draws unwanted attention.

EMPATHY BOND. No matter the circumstances or the conditions, every skin-to-skin touch of the Displaced triggers this empathy bond. Whether they touch hands, brush cheeks, or knock into one another on accident, they'll be met with the emotions of the person they've touched. 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. If someone is particularly tactile but not fond of sharing their emotions, they might want to invest in a fashionable pair of gloves.

MEMORY SHARE. Through a recent event, the Displaced unlocked the ability to share memories similarly to how they can share emotions. While unknown at first, the Displaced soon learned that they could share a memory with each other the same way they could share emotions. All they need to do is focus on a memory and touch the skin of their fellow Displaced, and then they could pass this experience along. These memories are shared through the eyes of the giver, granting the receiver a unique insight into the thoughts, feelings, and sensations during a specific moment in their life.

DREAM SHARING. Once one, two, or five Displaced fall asleep, they may be able to find each other in their dreams. These dreams lead to the dreamers themselves feeling lucid and somewhat in control of their surroundings—though the control itself is ultimately dependent on the dreamer and how well they come around to understanding what's going on. Dream logic applies with the flow of time, but no one is able to spend their entire lives there. Lost powers are still gone for any of the Displaced, but they can use their dreams to practice any new ability that they've received. Memory shares and empathy bonds are just as possible within these shared dream states—if anyone doubts that another Displaced is really there, they can test the empathy bond to see if it activates.

POWER SHARES AND UNIONS. The Displaced can share something of themselves with another Displaced by offering them an object that comes out of their chest. This object is meant to be symbolic of the person it comes from and significant to them in some way. When someone else takes hold of this object, they will get a sense of the owner's essence, along with temporary access to their in-game ability. Only when they give the item back do they give up the power in question. In addition, the Displaced are able to act in unison and create a fusion of their powers, making it so they can fight someone else with them at once. This ability is there from day one, but the power's ability will only ever present at its current stage.

> THE NETWORK
When the Displaced first showed up, Morningstar set up a private network for all of the Displaced to use in order to communicate. 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 current nail polish trends in New Amsterdam, or want to play a game of "hot or not" among the Displaced.

IDENTIFICATION. Everyone who gets set up with an ID gets access to Morningstar's network. In order to ensure that none of the Displaced stand out like sore thumbs, Morningstar's agents El and Gaby ensure that everyone has a name that makes it so they fit in among society. All usernames are thusly formed as firstname.lastname, with some room for creativity (Ziggy Stardust had a brief cameo, after all).

PRIVATE COMMUNICATION. 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, it's made very clear that the government has a means of tracking this communication. Big brother is always watching.

> RESOLUTION DAY FESTIVAL

The day of April 26th is known to all United Nations citizens: it's Resolution Day. To everyone around the world, it's the day when the last known AI lifeforms were completely eradicated in 2101. While some might say that it's the day that the UN claimed victory over the AI, to people the world over it's the day that humanity managed to keep themselves from being wiped out. Little will be said in detail about the holiday itself, but a remedial bit of research will cover the six-year-long Xelkoven War between humans and AI. The war itself was started when the home security unit AI Elysian killed 50 households full of people, and the war itself was named after the largest artificial intelligence distributor at the time: Xelkov. Ultimately, a billion humans died in the war, and there was the very real risk that the rest of humanity could have followed if they hadn't devised a method to put down the AI for good.

The citywide celebration of Resolution Day starts early and finishes 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. Most businesses are closed for the day, but not all of them—if you've gotten yourself a restaurant, street cleaning, or corporate PR job, you might find yourself stuck on a double shift. Better snatch what small moments of enjoyment you can!

> ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES
Anything you'd think would be at a festival in the year 2512 is definitely at this festival. Food, games, dancing, alcohol, free stuff? It's all there for your enjoyment. While the city streets will be full of people, this isn't a bad day to try networking. Want to get a new job or find a way to pry some information out of someone when they're least likely to remember you? Try to butter them up—or use the powers you've been granted to get your way. If anything goes badly, at least you can slip back into the crowd.

GAMES. 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—require a partner or a competitor, so you better hope someone's willing to do you a solid or bring out your competitive side. For anyone who's interested in something a little less hands-on, all of the city's biggest VR arcades will have setups with all the latest games. Hoping to get noticed for your gaming talent? This might not be the day to try to stand out, but anyone's down to try.

FOOD TRUCKS. 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.

NETWORKING. There are other opportunities with the city being flooded with festival-goers. Whether someone is on a mission to try to test the current sentiments toward Morningstar or simply wants to charm some corporate execs, this might be the time to get it done. 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. Discretion is the name of the game. Everyone can agree upon that.


> 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 videos about the origins of the festival and the reasons for celebrating. If you haven't done your initial search yourself, you'll be able to buff up on it here.

VR SIMULATIONS. 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.

SYMPATHIZERS. If you're uncomfortable with the concept of eradicating all AI, no one will understand why. AI sympathizers are not present among the native population. Everyone in this world has been raised with the understanding that AI only wanted to destroy humanity, and that everyone is lucky to be alive in spite of it. They have a deeply ingrained fear, and anyone claiming to formerly be an AI or android won't receive a very friendly response.

> 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 out exploring, completing a task for Morningstar, or working a job in the place you excel. Whatever brought you to the rougher parts of town, you may want to watch your step, or else find the city eating you as it has so many others.

> ORGANIZED CRIME
Organized crime still has a strong foothold in the world, with gangs and more established families working with 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. While there are two main mob entities in New Amsterdam—the Riverstone Mob and the Petrov Family—there are a handful of gangs that otherwise roam the streets. Some are loosely sponsored by the mob, while others are fledgling groups trying to gain clout. More than anything, these groups know they don't have the power of the corporations or government, and do everything to seize more power when they can.

JOINING UP. Catching the eye of the mob is difficult, but not impossible. Getting into the larger gangs is less difficult, but they're still wary of anyone who doesn't know the ins and outs of how to duck surveillance, traffic drugs and supplies, and intimidate people without catching flack from the NAPD. The best way to start getting attention is through their clubs, casinos, and illegal gambling dens. Getting inside isn't always easy: it might take a few weeks of legwork to get an invite, but someone could try to strongarm their way inside or use some chicanery to make it a smoother endeavor.

ESCAPE PLAN. Whether you went in to cause trouble or accidentally caused it by breathing the wrong way, it's good to have an escape plan in place. Does that mean fighting all the goons available? Maybe. What about stealing a hover bike and getting away? The good news is that hover bikes can fit where hover cars can't.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.

> 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 that have been taken to maintain it.

FIGHT. It's time 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. Fights can either happen in duos or in one-on-ones depending on the signups for the evening.

RINGSIDE CHAT. You might just want to enjoy the show, or use 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.

> A LIFE OF CHAOS

Life in New Amsterdam was once all festivals and people avoiding association with organized crime. Life in New Amsterdam these days is full of drama, citywide disturbances, and everything else that might be expected of an action film in progress. While there aren't many answers for what's happened to the Displaced, there is enough chaos going around that it seems like it may be connected to their arrivals.

The worst part is that New Amsterdam seems to struggle. Rather than being an anonymous backdrop to those action films, New Amsterdam is a bustling city full of life that never asked to be at the heart of this. When trouble hits, most repairs and restorations focus on helping those with money, while others are left forgotten living in tents and hoping for a helping hand. Recent circumstances have called for improvements in this area—there is more charitable work than ever before in New Amsterdam—but it's still a trying time.

Where the Displaced stand in all of this varies, but it's hard to ignore a city in trouble.

DISPLACED VERSUS DISPLACED. Whether it's by manipulation of an outside force or through inhaling weird monster gas, sometimes the Displaced are at odds with one another. When some of these few heroes are fighting, it means that the city can be left in even greater danger. Other times, the Displaced might not be able to control themselves. Feeling a sudden surge of vengeance and hoping to follow through on it? That monster gas might be the cause. Want to finish out a nasty deal to get something back important? The monster gas won't be an excuse, but maybe someone can pretend it was. Life as a Displaced is wild sometimes.

THE UNITED NATIONS ARMY. In fact, it's so wild that sometimes they come up against the extremely dangerous soldiers of the UNA. These soldiers are the military arm of the United Nations government. They aren't the average soldier, however. Dressed in thick black armor that acts as an exoskeleton for their bodies, they are basically invulnerable to any and all attacks. When fighting as a unit, they work perfectly in unison, making it so that they can quickly move to deny almost any and all attacks. They're also extremely resistant to any mental or emotional compulsion or manipulation, making them hard nuts to crack. Ready for a bossfight? They're the soldiers for it.

MONSTERS. As for unconventional threats, there are the monsters. These creatures first turned up in giant form when the first batch of Displaced arrived, stomping all over New Amsterdam. The less unique version of the monsters are around 400m high, have lizard-like features, and tend to show up by tearing down a portion of New Amsterdam's city wall And that's the less unique version. More unique monsters vary in size and make, seeming to be an amalgamation of a number of different creatures. Half-snake, half-dog? Seems odd, but it happens. The one consistent feature of all these monsters is they all have golden irises. Suffice to say that running into these creatures could be a problem.

> GO NUTS

Feel free to branch out and explore! Visit a doctor about some advanced cybernetics. Sneak through the city checkpoints and set out into the wilderness. Try to hop on a train bound for one of the world's five spaceports to see one of the colonies—though bear in mind the cost and difficulty of one of these joy rides. 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 try to become a social media celebrity. Use the SETTING for inspiration and choose your own adventure!

threepointfive: (05)

Phosphophyllite | Land of the Lustrous

[personal profile] threepointfive 2019-12-23 12:55 am (UTC)(link)
1. Settling In
[Human. Hoo-man. HUE-man. Phos turns the word around in their head as they sit on one of the cots with their legs stretched out. They wiggle one leg, then the other, humming to themselves as they poke their legs. It's softer, yet firmer. It would tear before it shatters.

They look around the shared sleeping area to see who else is around. A target acquired, they slide off the bed and slowly sneak over, a hand reaching out to give their target a poke.

They are definitely not stealthy or subtle.]


2. Food trucks
[Sunlight gives gems all the energy they need to keep going through the day, so food and hunger is a new experience for Phos. They peer at all the various food trucks, looking uncertainly at everything. Some are recognizably insects and the crunchy shells and spindly legs don't look that appetizing, but everyone's eating them so it must be okay? A hamburger made of soy protein and mealworms dressed up with vegetables eventually ends up in their hands as they stay in a line for too long.]

Um... do you want to share this with me?

[They ask nervously to the closest person near them.]

3. Network: [Bad username or site: phos @ phophyllite]
has anyone heard of lunarians?
or gems?
filloryfanatic: (Default)

Quentin Coldwater | The Magicians

[personal profile] filloryfanatic 2019-12-23 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
Exploring Changes: Oh shit it's gone again

[You would think that after living most of his life without magic, he'd be able to handle being without it, but circumstances already proved that wasn't true. There was an entire key quest about it. Quentin couldn't just accept what someone told him, but he's been sitting in a corner for awhile now trying every technique he knows to get magic to spark and none of it's working. It isn't the absence of magic like what he's known before; it's more than that. To most people the way the Magicians use hand gestures and twitching fingers isn't exactly typical known movie or TV magic, so it would just seem like he's doing strange spider-y gestures with his fingers. Still, he's determined, walking through these strange streets more focused on his hands than on anything else.]

Exploring Changes: Touch-a touch-a touch-me

[While doing that, Quentin isn't paying much attention to where he is going. He has often been called oblivious, and a little feather-brained, and he is both of those things. So there are several times that he ends up knocking into someone or knocked around by them. His apologies are quick and sincere, shoulders slumping in obvious guilt, and he scoots out of the way. When he walks into someone, he might accidentally brush fingers with them, setting off an empathy bond without meaning too. Unlike a lot of people, Quentin doesn't pull away from it, instead he blinks and leans into it, quizzical. His emotions are a blend of high anxiety and deep sadness, mixed in with some curiosity at what's happening.]

Resolution Day: VR Simulations

[Quentin likes video games although it's been a long time since he played any of them. It requires a lot more time than he has. When presented when something geeky and excitingly new as VR, well, he can't help being drawn into it. Want to be a hero? someone asked him, and it's a loaded question. Which he says yes to. Always.

He is not at all prepared for what happens. At first he's amazed and looking around at how realistic it all seems. He has seen some fantastical and bizarre shit in his day, dragons for example, but he's not used to science fiction, not to this level of impressive trope-naming level of technology. He is definitely into it at first, but as the VR keeps going he gets way too immersed and starts flailing around.]


Wake up, wake up, shit. [It feels too real and the panic begins in his chest until he's heaving breaths and he manages to pull away before he really loses it, stumbling and tripping onto the floor.] That seems so much more fun in the movies. [He says to himself, loud enough for anyone to hear.]

NETWORK @ quentin.coldwater

Hi. How did you get your new powers to work?

Wildcard:

[Quentin will be walking around looking very lost and easily startled. He is friendly at the safehouse if a little shy of making steps to introduce himself, and spends a lot of his time brooding, staring off into space. There may be heavy drinking involved. There's an air of melancholy to him at all times.]

[OOC: No Magicians spoilers in top level but could be in later comments, please note if you do not want season 4 spoilers at all. Message me at plurk @ waftingcurtains with questions/thoughts.]
blackstarred: (m31)

mia smoak | dctv | pre-crisis, but very light crisis spoilers

[personal profile] blackstarred 2019-12-23 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
@ anon
[Mia is not having a good day. She's actually been having a long series of not-good days and honestly, when she first wakes up in New Amsterdam, if it weren't for the fact that it reminded her so much of home, of her Star City, she might have a much more violent reaction much sooner.

It's too out of step to be a test from the Monitor. Not that she's the one that's needed testing - that usually falls more on her dad. But it could be the Monitor depositing her just out of reach, so that her father can die like he prophesied and Mia can't do anything to stop it.

She listens to the rundown and orientation, listens to what they all try to tell her, that people just get dumped here sometimes - more people the Monitor finds inconvenient maybe? But she keeps her mouth shut and takes in the information as best she can. A few moments later, while she's waiting to get processed in, she knows she has a chance to send out a message. One message without her name attached or any cover that might confuse them, so she throws it out into the ether.]


Overwatch, you out there?

[Maybe she'll get her mom. If the Monitor picked her up, maybe he got William too. Either way, she's going to watch the responses that come in, and try to figure out if there's anything here that's a little more familiar.]


[Bad username or site: moira @ queen]
[When she was a kid, her mom taught her that names had value. There was weight to them, and if she were to give someone her real name, they would have power over her that she didn't mean to give. Blackstar had been an easy alias in a world where no one knew she existed, but the people managing them here want a name, so she gives them a name that was almost hers but never was. A name that the people who matter will recognize, but the people that don't wouldn't look twice at.

Once she's settled, she has flips open the network to introduce herself. She'd rather stay off the grid as much as possible, but the people who know her won't find her if she keeps too low a profile.]


Not to get too existential on my first day, but ever wonder why we're here?

[She's looking for a much more literal answer but might as well make a joke of it, see what kind of people are on this network with her.]


fight club
[Managing her anger has always been a work in progress, but by some miracle, she manages to keep it together enough to earn enough money to buy her way into the fight club. She knows until she gets her feet under her, she needs to keep a lower profile, so that means not punching people in the streets and more punching people in socially acceptable places.

You could catch her mid-fight, getting a little overwhelmed by the cybernetic enhancements she's not used to fighting, or towards the end, when she's overwhelmed them with her feral anger fueled by twenty years of daddy issues. Or, you could be squaring off against her yourself, and she looks ... a bit too happy to have jumped in this ring.

Then again, there is always the after, when she's nursing bruises and throwing back a few shots to ease the sting. This part, the fighting, the drinking, the hiding, at least feels familiar, even if it's a part of her life she thought she'd left behind.

She can't tell if it's a step forward or step back but it feels like coming home all the same.]
boarishness: (( 44. ))

inosuke hashibira | kimetsu no yaiba

[personal profile] boarishness 2019-12-24 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
FOOD TRUCKS.
[ The strangest thing about this place wasn’t the fact that Inosuke had appeared with technology he had never been around before, but rather, he felt no tingling sensations along his body from so much activity. The colorful lights and bustling sounds were alarming for him at first and his adjustment time was slow, steady and rather lonely. Sure, he had accepted some help from people, but the over stimulation made him more aggressive if anything, so any Displaced that tried to help him might find it rather difficult.

In any case, food was the best way to lure him out, so he’s been hanging around the food trucks. Here we see an incredibly physically fit teenager feasting out on grasshopper pad thai. For a feral boy, it was absolutely delicious. He had no complaints.

Upon his head perched what seemed to be the head of a deceased boar, and if you stop to look at his face, you might notice he appears rather pretty. In fact, if he had more clothes on, he could easily be mistaken for a girl.

No matter who you are or what good you have in your hand, if you're passing by, he's going to try and take it from you. ]


Lemme have that!


NETWORK. [Bad username or site: hashibira @ inosuke]
[ It took a lot of trial and error, but Inosuke was able to figure out how to put his thoughts into text messaging. This was good since he didn’t actually have to spell things out (he’s illiterate) but for whatever reason, his text seems.. extremely loud. ]

IM LOOKING FOR THE TOUGHEST
STRONGEST
CHALLENGING GUY OUT HERE

THE RULER OF THIS STRANGE KINGDOM

COME OUT HERE AND LET ME BEAT YOUR SPINELESS ASS
SO I CAN BE KING OF THIS PLACE


OUTSIDE THE FIGHT CLUB.
KEEEEEEHHHHHHHH!! LET ME IN, I WANNA FIGHT!!!

[ Someone doesn't know how to properly sign up for a fight club and pay the cover fee and is being escorted out of the fight club by the bouncers. Anyway, Inosuke has his mask covering his face and is kicking and screaming, sounding more animal-like than human before he's dropped outside and shut out. His next response is to kick up his feet behind him and hunch down, preparing to headbutt the establishment. Headbutting commencing in 3..2..1.. CLUNK.

Oh. He left a little dent. That's kind of impressive. ]
Edited 2019-12-24 03:58 (UTC)
gwenzelle: (Default)

gwen stacy . marvel comics

[personal profile] gwenzelle 2019-12-24 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)
resolution day - food truck
[ it's seriously convenient that this festival is taking place a little while after gwen first arrived here, because man. her arrival was weird and poorly timed because of course it was ( she has classes she needs to attending!! crime to be fighting!! ), but it's the power strip that's really got her stumbling. literally. her equilibrium is off, and still is off, but there was definitely a lot of embarrassing moments of her trying to get used to being baseline human again. or at least get used to not having all of her spider-bilities anymore.

not to mention there's no longer a weird voice in her head, trying to dictate what she wears and what she eats and what dumb-ass words should come out of her mouth. she never thought she would miss her symbiote, but she kind of does.

anyway, that was all a few days ago. and now she's waiting on line for what appears to be a jumbo corndog, judging by the people walking away from it. she's noticed that a lot of the trucks here are serving different kinds of weird novelty foods, but she's hoping that the novelty here is that this ONE corndog will fill her as much as THREE normal ones. that's where her priorities are right now. she's actually so caught up in that train of thought that she doesn't notice the line had moved forward, not until someone behind her taps her on the shoulder and points forward.

which totally transfers a brief wave of hunger, impatience, hunger, and pushes one of embarrassment, mild shock, and BIG HUNGER right back. accidentally. damn, this touch thing is weird. she shuffles forward sheepishly.
]

Oh- shit, sorry. [ a beat ] Hey, have you eaten the stuff they've got here? I have very high expectations of what I think is going to happen here, but I don't want to set myself up for disappointment.
network @ gwen.stacy
[ so yeah, the lack of powers thing is really, really starting to get under her skin. she knows there are things going on in the city that could really use some help from ghost spider, but she just... can't. she barely knows how to fight, and without her endurance and strength, she knows she won't be much help to anyone and might only get herself hurt, or killed. so, she focuses on other things. ]

hey, hi. so, two things. does anybody know if there's a college or university where i can pick up some classes here? or on the flip side, somewhere i can go to catch some live music? i need to find something to do or i might actually lose my mind.

[ lol getting a job? no, sir. ]

thanks.


ooc/wildcard: i'll roll with whatever if you'd like to write a starter, but if you'd like to discuss plans hit me up at [plurk.com profile] sexbang or DM me!
Edited 2019-12-24 13:46 (UTC)
acquisitor: (Default)

vandii rabaaq | oc (just the one icon for now oop @ me)

[personal profile] acquisitor 2019-12-24 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
  dreams;

( you're in a shop. it's not overly large, and every single available space is covered or decorated with something of note. there are items stacked meticulously, shelves full of odds and ends. some might be familiar to you, others wholly alien. the overhead lights glitter, the air is musty and smells like burning dust.

the air is hot. sweat beads on your skin. welcome to beggar's rest, the aquisitoria but one of many cogs in its black market wheel.

the shopkeeper is an odd one. gray-violet skin, dark hair, long ears that twitch every now and then to track your progress. she seems to be reading something on a datapad, but should you reach out and touch anything on her shelves: )


There's a ten percent mark-up for fingerprints. Eyes only, thank you.

( her accent is odd, stilted on the vowels, clipped on the consonants. faintly, faintly british. perhaps that's how she learned the language to start. )


  fightclub;

( vandii stands out in a crowd.

head and shoulders taller than most when she bothers to straighten up, blue skin, fluffy furred ears, antlers. she passes it off as body modifications taken to the extremes when she bothers to justify her existence at all, although calling herself human rankles. but she's here to make money and she doesn't really care how she does it, so should your character walk into the venue and look like a somewhat competent fighter? she's going to pounce. )


Evening, sweetheart. You looking to make some money? How about we stick it to the man together, hm?

( in her favor, of course. )


  network;

[Bad username or site: vandii @ rabaaq]


Anyone up to buying a lady a drink? I'm shamelessly indiscriminate with the company I keep, all comers welcome.
Edited 2019-12-24 19:16 (UTC)
powerofgod: (pic#4254512)

godric | true blood

[personal profile] powerofgod 2019-12-24 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
  festivities;

  food truck;
( human food holds no lure for him. it simply exists, dead and cold and tasteless. blood has sustained him well beyond the shadow of human memory. but, as with all forms of death and rebirth, godric is learning the ways of this world anew.

someone pushes the food into his hands. it drips with grease, and he wraps it with paper towel. the first person he can smell humanity on gets it held out to them. he appears as nothing more than a sixteen year old boy, though there is an odd, uncanny aura of wrongness that permeates the air around him. he is not what he seems. too pale, too still. he breathes only when he needs air to speak. )


Please. It will go to waste if it remains with me.

( his voice is oddly calm. a faint accent wends its way through the words, though it is difficult to place. )



  fight club;

( survival or death. it has been a long time since those were necessary words. yet, death bore him here, and survival is again the order of his day. he does not believe in doing anything by halves. if this place necessitates his existence then he will exist as he has done for millennia.

he steps into the ring shirtless, in soft white pants. surveys the crowd. his opponent.

if you are one to judge by appearances, he seems like nothing else so much than a small, pale boy of sixteen summers, an odd circling of tattoos beneath his collarbone. he stands with confidence and surety that can only be misplaced in one so young.

fighting to win and not to kill is not a talent he has exercised in some years, but he will do it. to his opponent, in a voice that does not carry to the crowd: )


It would be prudent that you forfeit. There is no shame in it.


  network,

[Bad username or site: godric @ northman]


I have little interest in hiding the truth. I am a vampire, and I will require blood to prolong my existence. I will only consider willing donors, and no one who refuses will need fear reprisals. In return you would have my fealty and protection.

If you have any other questions regarding my world or condition, I will answer them as best I can.

Thank you.
foxlore: (010)

flora hansard | oc

[personal profile] foxlore 2019-12-24 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
safe(house) and sound °
there is more to grapple with than she can work through in such a short period of time. being kidnapped had never felt particularly likely to her (mugged, maybe, but kidnapped?), but follow that up with being experimented on and having a brain implant and –– 

it's just a bit too much. she runs a hand through her now-short hair, it's already coming back in bright red curls, but really, that's not what she's missing most. actually, no, not even her fox shape is what she misses most. perhaps a year or so ago, that would have been the greatest loss, but a year and change ago she'd not had a single friend, much less a whole group of them. boris must be worried. this isn't sam's department, but she guesses that he's worried just because he's heard of every worst case scenario there is. and eli and jules and ollie –– and, of course, vasya.

she rubs her eyes, and then she looks from her cot to notice –


You got a hole in your shirt.

y'know, just in case whoever she's talking to isn't aware.

Do you want me to fix it for you?


the great, steel-enforced outdoors °
once the mandatory safehouse period is over, flora takes her small stipend of credits right on out to the resolution day festival. alright, first of all, her plan had been to try and get hired somewhere, but what she needs most right about now is a real good distraction, and distractions are very, very much provided. it's a bit as if she stepped into a sci-fi movie, complete with hover-food-trucks –– 

food trucks!


I swear on my mother, it's my first sample.

maybe you are the food truck employee she's trying to convince. or maybe you watched her circle back to 'everything egg', a chicken-shaped foodtruck, more than once.


wildcard °
anything goes!
Edited 2019-12-24 22:37 (UTC)
devilsun: (002)

Hama Sun | oc

[personal profile] devilsun 2019-12-25 04:01 am (UTC)(link)
Safehouse

[ There was some yelling, earlier. Hama did not accept the explanations gracefully. Things haven’t improved much since. But in the end she is still herself, and Hama Sun, first daughter of the Dread Mother Shayla Sun, does not back down. Not even if her hands are shaking. She’s put herself in a corner of the kitchen, a steak knife clutched in both hands.

She jumps when she notices she has witnesses. Her eyes are wide and wild, red from crying. The world around her has changed. She has been taken from her people, from the comforting embrace of the devil who said her name was Red, and even the devil’s gift running through her veins and pumping through her heart is not enough to change that. She is alone and earlier she wept at the enormity of it all.

That was earlier. She’s done with that now. She’s found a knife. Her hands tremble on it. She adjusts her grip. Holds it steadier. ]


My mother will end what you are.

[ It’s spat as a promise. ]

Fight Club

[ And while there are bounces who work to keep teenagers out when business is going down, Hama is talented at getting in places she’s not supposed to.

She can be found at the edge of the ring, leaning forward and watching with interesting. Her eyes are wide.

The enthusiasm is only slightly manufactured. ]


This is so cool! Are you gonna fight next?

Network: [Bad username or site: hama @ sun]

what happened to the books?!?!?!?! there were supposed to be books!!!!!
seenbutnotherd: (7)

Oliver Williams | oc

[personal profile] seenbutnotherd 2019-12-26 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
1. Festivities

[He feels obligated to try and make the best out of a terrible situation, which is why he took to the festivities. This place was certainly...interesting. The smooth and steal surfaces are a bit too sterile for his taste, and the grass growing randomly throughout with a worrying lack of large fields is depressing. But...it's interesting? That's what he keeps telling himself. That there is a lot of things here he's never seen before and he can learn about them all instead of sitting in a corner crying.

Right now he's examining the food trucks, not seeming to be happy with much until he comes across the fruits and veggies. He eventually ends up with a bowl of mixed greens and crickets peppered throughout — pretty decent in size as well. He plucks one out and pops it into his mouth with no fuss. His brows raise, seeming pleased.]


—Oh hey, it's barbecued.

2. Network


[Bad username or site: Oliver @ Williams]
WHERE'S THE PAPER?


[Forgive the caps, he's a bit flustered having spent the last hour or so trying to find some kind of journal or notebook. Hell, even a bunch of post it notes would do the trick. How is he supposed to write down his poetry without it?]

3. New abilities/safehouse

[Okay...he hasn't been here very long but the lack of reading material to hold is killing him. Naturally he found as many digital copies of literature as he could but it was so weird, and he needed that familiar feeling of holding a book and turning its pages. He can hear his eldest brother calling him a pretentious fart right now (and what he would give to hear it again) but he can't help it.

It's when he's sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea he let get too cold, spending far too much time contemplating how much he misses grabbing a pen or pencil and writing down an idea, that he just starts to spout words. He can't write them down but he's not going to let them sit in his head all day either. He needs a release. So when no one is around he plays around with some rhymes, alliteration, assonance, and a looot of couplets, until he's reciting poetry about his damn tea, and how it's warm (even though it's cold) and inviting (even if the flavor isn't very good).

That's when he notices the cup in his hands starts to warm up. He looks down with his brows furrowed.]


Uhhh, what?

4. Wildcard!

[Feel free to come up with literally any idea I didn't write a prompt for! PM this journal or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] nicknacked]
Edited 2019-12-26 02:25 (UTC)
ibelieveintruth: (Default)

Kal-El/Clark Kent/Superman | DCEU - Voice poking

[personal profile] ibelieveintruth 2019-12-27 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
Exploring Changes: I'm Only Human After all... (Wandering)

He leaped across the city, great bounds that took him high, but nothing like he could do, back home, even as a child. He moved slower, too. Faster than a human, still, but slower than, well, Superman. And as he wandered, leaping sometimes and walking others, he contemplated his situation here.

Kal was... unsure how he felt about this all. Most of the upper levels of his power were gone. He felt more vulnerable and more human than ever before. But, at the same time, that has added a feeling of life to being here, and a sense of purpose. How much more right was it that the man who helped others had to face danger as well?

How much better was it that he was now man and not superman? It felt... right. And yet, he also felt more like an alien here, in this world, than he ever had at home. Hence, when asked what name he wanted as his ID here, he chose to explore a whole new side of himself. Kal-El lived here, now. Mild-mannered Clark Kent was back on past Earth and dealing with romance and supervillains. Kal-El was dealing with reduced powers and an authoritarian regime.

In other words, it was Tuesday. But at least it was a little different.

***

Exploring Changes: Touch me, touch me, nowwww (Empathy Bond)

Kal was always careful. He always had been, back home, too, because he was so much stronger than humans. But here, he tried even more, not sure what the rules were and what could happen. So he moved carefully, trying not to touch others in a way that would hurt them. He was hopeful, however, that he could help, here, maybe not quite as he had before, but some.

At first, he did not encounter anyone needing help, as he headed toward work, but it was inevitable that someone was in danger. Kal heard a cry of fear, and turned to see a man fell from a building. With his enhanced speed and strength, he leaped, and caught the man, bringing him down to the ground. But the instant his hand touched the man's neck, there was a surge of fear, pain, and sorrow into him, and he groaned at the onslaught.

From Kal's mind, however, came hope, and confidence, and surety, and the belief that he could help this man, and maybe even make their life better. The two sets of feelings intertwined as Kal winced and gently set the man down.

"By Rao. That is... annoying." The bond slowly faded, but the man looked up at him as if he had never seen him before. Kal smiled, a gentle smile and nodded.

"You'll be okay. This world has chances, and you can find them, my friend." With a nod, the man rose, glancing back at Kal and vanished into the crowd, and Kal turned, almost knocking into someone else, hands touching.

"Oh no."

***

NETWORK - un: kal.el

Hello, all. By any chance has anyone here heard of Metropolis, The Justice League, of Krypton?

Alternatively, does anyone know if the low-level jobs here are any good?


[ He wanted to fit in, find a way to help, but it was weird not knowing anything about this place. He felt even more alien than normal. ]

Other-alternatively; What do you do for entertainment here?
Edited 2019-12-27 01:07 (UTC)
no_eels: (♚ surprised)

toothless | how to train your dragon

[personal profile] no_eels 2019-12-27 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
1. safehouse.

[ This whole 'rationalizing being on a new world' business is all well and good. Unless you're a dragon, suddenly out on the streets, not used to even the concept of streets. Adding insult to injury, he hadn't been able to summon his lightning breath on the strangers he'd woken up with ⁠— something he's had since he was a baby. The accompanying panic, and adrenaline rush, had activated his power, which had made it even more challenging for him to be gently herded to the safehouse. It takes him a while to realize that his scales are reflecting the light around him, bending it and making him a blur at long-range ⁠— and confusing at short-range. If he stays low to the ground, the blue glow from his chest just adds to the confusion of light at long-range. At short-range? He's a blurry, glowing mess. At least it's hard to tell exactly how large he is, standing roughly six feet tall when fully upright and at least twice that long. Though some of that is his wispy tail.

When will he notice the glow? Who knows.

Toothless skulks around the safehouse, using his newfound ability like a cloak as he keeps to dark corners whenever people are around. He isn't the stealthiest, here. But he's still scared and confused, sporting some new scarring on the back of his head, and watches everyone else like a green-eyed hawk. ]

2. out and about.

[ Once he can slip by someone and get outside, Toothless feels both overwhelmed and surer on his feet. He spends his initial hours darting around in dark alleys, scared by loud noises and mapping out dark corners he can go and hide in. When the newness of it isn't quite so sharp, the Nightfury begins to explore. At first he stays out of all areas that contain other people and is hyper-aware of them at all times, as a predator not fully at his best. But when curiosity pulls at him, he edges areas that only contain one or two people, staying in the dark or using his ability to make himself far less noticeable. It works best while staying still, but that doesn't last long.

He bats and pats at patches of light, sniffs at decorative displays, and digs through any garbage he can find. At some point he finds a large plastic rod ⁠— a broken-off piece of something ⁠— and settles down on top of one of the shorter buildings to chew on it. But he carries it with him from that point on, like a winged dog who's found a bone.

As for the festivities, Toothless mostly keeps clear, but a few of the food trucks might blink and suddenly find a crate of their supplies outside... missing. Did you see the weird blur? ]

3. network.

[ The payload that Toothless finds implanted in the back of his skull isn't really meant for a Nightfury brain. Dragons communicate mostly through body language, and their noises aren't really words so much as expressed emotions. But Toothless has spent a long time with humans, and with Hiccup in particular. He's picked up the important parts of Hiccup's vocabulary, enough to know generally what his friend is talking about, and he's done that mostly by learning words. Context has been his teacher and Toothless is a smart student, if not quite on the level as most creatures in this city.

He doesn't know how to string words together, but he knows ⁠— mostly ⁠— what a lot of words mean. The technology in his brain is handling it as best it can. And the best, unfortunately, isn't that great. But Toothless isn't even conscious of his using it at all, yet, and when he 'sees' things on the network he looks around for the people in his environment. ]


BERK?

[ It's going to be a long learning process. ]
Edited 2019-12-27 04:10 (UTC)
beshenaya: (« your kiss. your fist. »)

Cain ; Starfighter

[personal profile] beshenaya 2019-12-27 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
SETTLING IN
He wasn’t sure whether he was irritated about being drugged against his own will or if he wanted to lash out so he could get another hit. Last time Cain was sedated against his own will he’d been in New Volga’s correctional facility. Kind of a pain in the ass how much he ended up drooling on himself for the first few hours but he fondly remembered the reason it happened in the first place and it managed to make a grin crack over his lips.

So there he stood, propped up against the wall with arms crossed over his body in an attempt to keep the now fading effects away from making a total ass of himself as he re-discovered gravity. The agents came, said their little speech, did their little ‘here’s your new life’ shit and off they went.

“Fuck off,” the dismissive words left him once they were well out of ears’ range. “Fighting corruption.”

Not like he really gave a shit about corruption but let’s be real, since when has any government organization or any group of people banding together in general ever not become a steaming pile of garbage eventually? Still, was he likely to investigate in what way he could get involved and leverage himself? Probably. See where the chips fell. What benefited and interested him most.

Until then, might as well dip a toe into the waters of loud opinions and get a feel for the temperature of fellow people stuck here.


FIGHT CLUB
Cain finding his way to a fight club? What a surprise. This shit was an average Tuesday night to him. While he didn’t know a whole lot about what life was like on Earth yet, he knew one undeniable truth: the more the government squeezed it’s people the stronger the underground would be. Viva la revolution and all that.

The fighter slipped his way through to the ringside in order to scope out the competition. Back in the Alliance, started his first fight on the flight there before they even got to the damn station. He’d lost, then, but gained a whole lot of information about the people he’d be living with and that was the real win. Didn't lose many other times after. Maybe he caught your attention here with the wild grin that filled his lips and fingers that twitched like a junkie about to get their fix. Someone clearly was excited by violence.

Each second passing made his heart thump harder in his chest. Teeth bared in that ravenous grin. What was this shit, these enhancements, and where could he get them? How hard would they be to fight against without them? He was eager to find out. Not like they padded people down before entry, and who would Cain be without a knife in his boot? Where there was a will, my friends, there was a way.

You could also catch him climbing into the ring with a look nothing short of feral and hungry. Maybe he won a round, he always did fight dirty after all (ever the type to fully embrace no holds barred), or maybe he lost. It wasn’t like he’d never come out of a brawl unscathed before. He'd likely find his way to the bar after a good ol' gargle of water to spit the blood. Maybe he’s fighting you, but if that’s the case the knife was just one of several concerns. Aside from his shameless lack of remorse for common decency in the ring? Cain also liked to bite.


NETWORK | [Bad username or site: cain @ fighter]
So this is Earth, huh? It’s about as boring as I thought it would be.

[ Certainly, he could probably find trouble if he wanted to. Maybe it was a subtle call of arms for fellow shit disturbers, who knew. ]

Who’s up for a drink?


(( ooc: happy to match formats! Also, it's been a long time since I've been in a heavily involved game so please holler at me if anything needs changed, anything seems confusing, or if you want to throw Cain into the dumpster where he belongs cause same. HMU at [plurk.com profile] popartcrisis for all that and more, lmao. ❤ ))
Edited 2019-12-27 16:14 (UTC)
heartstings: (Default)

Kenzi | Lost Girl

[personal profile] heartstings 2019-12-27 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[POWERS, WHAT POWERS]
[Kenzi’s never had powers to start with so the notion that she suddenly does seem a little preposterous to her. Yet she spends some time trying to figure out how to activate said powers...whatever her’s are supposed to be. Needless to say, it ends in failure and her feeling frustrated.

She lets out a groan and flops back onto the ground where she’s been trying and failing to figure out her powers.
]

This powers thing is bullshit!

[FIGHT CLUB]
[Kenzi isn’t much of a fighter herself. Yeah, sure, she’s been in a scrap or twenty but she usually doesn’t win. So she’s here to drink, watch, and chat it up with folks.

And she’s not too pleased with the way the current fight it going.
]

Oh, c’mon! That was a low blow! There’s gotta be some rules!

[She turns to whoever is near her and motions toward the ring.]

Can you believe this shit?

[NETWORK]
ID: toni.soprano

any society that no longer uses physical money sucks
hows a gal posed to hustle?
anyway, i could use a drink or a coffee or a coffee and a drink
suggestions
go


[WILDCARD]
[Hit me with whatever. Kenzi can probably be found just about anywhere as she’s very much the explorative type. Questions or ideas can be sent to [plurk.com profile] rubberspaceducky.]
itsjiaheng: (like a default anime protag)

jongdae lee | oc

[personal profile] itsjiaheng 2019-12-28 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
↳ {safehouse};

[ it's been a bad couple of days. for someone in his situation -- that is, on the run -- waking up in what was effectively his worst case scenario had not gone over well. there had been a lot of struggling and yelling and probably not a lot of absorbing whatever information he'd been given at the time. by now, he'd realised they weren't taking him back to the ward, at least. that was a comfort, but a small one.

he'd been skulking around in corners and avoiding people all this time, unwilling to talk and basically being an irritable brat. if anyone had tried offering him anything, he'd definitely turned it down. he was stubborn like that too. time, adrenaline, and stress could really work up an appetite though. had to do something about that.

waiting until it was quiet, probably once most people had gone to sleep, he decided to raid the kitchen. he had no idea how to cook and no intention of trying, so whatever he was searching for would have to be passably edible as-is. he freezes after rummaging around in a particularly noisy drawer -- what food could they possibly be stashing with the cutlery? -- and hearing someone approach. now he's brandishing a fork like a weapon -- why didn't he just go for a knife? -- and wearing what's intended to be his most threatening glare. puffy-eyed and shaky as it was though, it's lost some of its edge. ]


What do you want?

[ he's probably just hangry. ]


↳ {network}; // [Bad username or site: jongdae @ lee]


so like
am i to understand that like
this thing isn't exactly like the internet
meaning
like are we all following each other automatically
do you all get these updates or
like if i shitpost into the void does everyone have to read it
shitposts directly into your brain ? ?
because
hmmmm lol



↳ {food trucks};

[ jongdae had been so psyched about the idea of food. the scent of it had led him here, like a dog to a barbeque. why did it always come back to food? he wandered around, trying to read menus from each truck, weighing his options. what he wouldn't give for a salmon bowl right now. korean-style, with the mayo rice. ahhhh.

well, he'd finally found someone who knew how to do a decent rice bowl but was a little less thrilled to find the protein involved came in the form of stir-fryed, seasoned grasshoppers. why do they smell so good anyway?

he's staring hard into the little paper bowl it's been served in, disposable wooden chopsticks in one hand. it'll get cold soon if he doesn't eat and cold grasshopper is probably even worse than hot grasshopper might be. that's why he's reasoning this out, logically, like any normal person. it's perfectly acceptable to think out loud.. ]


... I mean, aren't shrimp like cousins to bugs? So, it could taste shrimp-y. But are shrimp all juicy if you step on them when they're alive? Has anyone ever stepped on a live shrimp? That seems mean. They're cute.

[ he's got a whole grasshopper gripped in his chopsticks now, peering at it like it was some kind of science specimen and not lunch. ]

Why don't they take the heads off? I don't need to see its face. What if they explode like a cherry tomato? I am hungry though..


(( ooc: happy to match formats as needed! i'm also baby new to games like this so i'm scraping by observing what others do and hoping it works (and thus practising at bracket life), so apologies if this is all a mess skdjskfjk ))
browbeater: He pays attention to exposition, at least. (The brooding teenager.)

mako | legend of korra

[personal profile] browbeater 2020-01-02 12:15 am (UTC)(link)
i. organized crime

[ he wasn't trying to start any problems. if anything, he was just exploring. just trying to understand what exactly this new place was. and while he can easily recognize the rich parts of the city of New Amsterdam... the less nice parts? They blend in with the middle nice parts. It takes a little while of staring at the people, and the police presence in a location to really lock down when he's made it to the bad part of town.

Well.

guess he's on guard now, and ready to stop any trouble from getting started if he comes across it-- especially when he starts to recognize the tell tale signs of triads and gangs.

stop him? help him? ]


ii. dreaming

[ it's hard to practice firebending when he can't exactly do it anymore, but in a dream? that doesn't matter. it starts with just him moving through set movements, things that come naturally to him. the scenery shifts occasionally. one minute there are spirits all around them, and the world seems overly vibrant.

the next is a raucous stadium, and him and you in the center, trying to dodge oncoming bouts of fire, water, and earth discs.

or in the center of a bunch of people who rightly look like the chinese triads. pissed, and ready to take on anyone in their way.

pick your flavor of dream thread. ]


[Bad username or site: mako @ sato]
Excuse me, does anyone have a technology primer? Everything about this city is way more advanced than what we have back home.
Edited 2020-01-02 19:44 (UTC)
reup: (and the rest for me‚ it goes)

peggy palmer · oc

[personal profile] reup 2020-01-02 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
» 001. SAFEHOUSE

[ Peggy's really fucking bad at compartmentalising, but luckily for her, all she's seen of this place since being experimented on – yikes! – is the inside of the safehouse, which is familiar in the way that, like, a punch to the face is familiar, in that she's definitely been punched before, and it's not that she liked the experience, but she at least knows what happens when a fist makes contact with the bridge of your nose.

Alright. Maybe the metaphor got lost in translation, metaphorically speaking, in transit from the dumb part of her brain to the smart part. But there are things here, at least, that she understands: somewhere tucked away in one of the drawers, she finds a pack of playing cards in a remarkably good state, probably down to the fact that they're made of plastic, but she's not complaining. So she sets up at a table, shuffling the cards with practiced ease, and flags down anyone wandering by. ]


Hey. Wanna play blackjack?

» 002. FIGHT CLUB

[ As if it's not extremely obvious thanks to the fact that she's 5'5" and the best way to describe her build is 'reedy', Peggy's not actually going to be stepping into the ring any time soon. But this place, a little bit to her chagrin, is infinitely more familiar to her than even a safehouse or a punch to the face; it's dingy, and dirty, and everyone here looks like they have or are about to commit at least one crime. These are, in short, Peggy's people. She posts herself up at the bar, orders herself what she's pretty sure is the future-equivalent of a Long Island iced tea, and leans over to whoever's nearby at the bar to say, as the woman in the ring is tossed unceremoniously onto her back and struggles to get up again, ] That's definitely a fakeout. She's gonna get up.

» 003. NETWORK

un: peggy.palmer
hey losers
fuck marry kill: spongebob, patrick, squidward
caputium: ɪs sʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ? ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇɴᴄʜ? (Default)

oliver queen ━ dctv ━ mentions of crisis elements, minor spoilers in threads possible

[personal profile] caputium 2020-01-02 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
THE DAILY GRIND ➷
( maintaining a nine-to-five with strong tendencies to meddle is nigh impossible. oliver knows this about himself, has seen it play out in driving queen consolidated into the ground, in verdant passing hands from tommy to thea, and in crashing and burning in every endeavor that isn’t using the skillset he brought back with him from lian yu. he’s not in denial about this particular inescapable truth but here he is anyway, messenger bag hooked across his body and resting at his hip, delivering items he avidly tries not to investigate.

it does explain why, when he’s spread out on the entryway floor of a hotel or a fancy apartment building, groaning ( but having successfully retrieved a stolen clutch wallet ) with a bag of groceries that has certainly seen better days — it’s dripping — he’s like this.

it does not explain why this sad sack has never gotten much better with excuses, showing up at the front door of some poor soul with various odds and ends that are mostly alright. the carton of a dozen eggs, on the other hand, look like they’ve been nearly sliced in half?
)

I forgot to open the carton before I bagged them.

NETWORK — [Bad username or site: oliver @ queen]
( on the one hand, he doesn’t subscribe to any of this and on the other, he has Seen Things. things that have made him question if it’s smart to ask questions. )

Does the name Mar Novu mean anything to anyone?

( haha, just kidding. #uthought. )

Whether or not the name rings any bells, if I'm here for the unforeseeable future, I wouldn't mind a running partner. How does 10k every morning sound?

WILDCARD ➷
( if neither of these strike you, then come at me, my dudes! pm or hit me up over at [plurk.com profile] talldarkandgay if you'd like. )
ofbrooklyn: (🍵 latte art makes shit novels)

daniel humphrey, gossip girl

[personal profile] ofbrooklyn 2020-01-02 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
01. GETTING SETTLED / POST-ARRIVAL
[ his first complaint: there's no anonymity here. how can anyone run a pithy blog detailing the social faux-pas and embarrassing accidents of the social elite if they have to attach their name to it?

his second: there's no good coffee shops. seriously, he's tried four, and they have all churned out the same questionable murky brown stuff. nobody has a nicaraguan dark roast or a nitro brew anywhere in sight. he's practically in jersey — but even jersey has starbucks.

but nothing, absolutely nothing prepares him for the sheer gut-wrenching agony of disappointment that comes from trying to find a functional, familiar library. sure, books and media of all kinds exist via digital downloads, accessible in mere nanoseconds thanks to incredible futuristic expansions of technology, but what is the point of reading chaucer or hemingway or even pablo neruda if nobody can see (and thus judge) your well-worn paperback?

it's just too many indignities for one particularly pretentious man to overcome. daniel randolph humphrey cannot cope. so find him at a bar, looking as much like a depressed novelist as the future's wardrobe options will allow, nursing his sorrows in a glass of something he distinctly did not pay for. granted, he is not clever enough to talk his way into free spirits. he simply annoyed his barseat neighbor to the point of being bought a drink to ensure his silence.

a silence that ends with a dramatic sigh at the sight of a new face settling in nearby, and an equally put-upon: ]
How does anyone survive this place?

02. GETTING IN TROUBLE / FIGHT CLUB
[ dan humphrey is not a spy. he's seen plenty of spy movies, though, and read more than his fair share of dime novels featuring clever british men and their unbelievably beautiful conquests — so he thinks it's fair to say he knows what he's doing. (is it? no.)

tonight, he's found himself inside the mysterious fight club, mostly out of curiosity since he lacks any ability to fight whatsoever. that curiosity eventually leads him to entering a club's vip section on sheer luck, having found a metaphorical golden ticket in someone else's jacket pocket. or trying to, anyway. the bouncer earlier had been a little questioning of the circumstances, but when dan rattles off his job responsibilities as some senior vice president of some varying sales and/or marketing department's personal assistant slash attaché, the man's eyes simply glaze over.

it might be easy to get in, but even dan knows he'll look more suspicious trying to do this alone. time to turn to a stranger, any stranger, and offer: ]
Shall we?

[ please help him, he's stupid. ]

03. GETTING ONLINE / NETWORK
@daniel.humphrey
Ice breaker: what skill could you win Olympic gold in?

[ did he google 'ice breaker questions'? yes, yes he did. ]

04. WILDCARD
[ yolo etc. i'm 5% serious about anything here. ]
identifier: (Default)

dick grayson ( titans )

[personal profile] identifier 2020-01-02 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
food trucks/market |

[ rooftops start to look the same.

he thinks it's a cynical take. it's not as though this is a city he's ever seen before. but maybe there's comfort in seeing an echo of gotham. there's more nightlife here. less of tall dark and looming around.  

he'd called bruce last night, to ask about rose. now, there's no question of whether he can pierce through the multiverse and ask dear old dad how things are hanging. it's harder to miss him now. if that's even a thing. (dick doesn't like it much.)

scouting comes easy. dick's slept on streets before and he isn't as keen. it needs reliable hot water and a good view. maybe an extra bed, just in case. he doesn't know where he's going, but the strays in his life are there on purpose. he's not about to turn any of them out.

the market's not his first stop - he checked around the safehouse first then wandered out. after being there, now's the time to stretch his legs. find some common ground. figure out what to do here, when he's combed the streets for rachel, gar, jason. (even rose.)

he approaches who he can with a friendly smile. gotta find allies and influence people. ]


Hey, had the grand tour yet?



network |

[ username: richard.grayson ]

just curious. what kind of abilities did you get and how long did it take to get used to them?

[ he's not the type to want superpowers. dick has his own skillset. he's proud of all the work that went into it.

but teleporting is siiiiiiick. he's been pushing his limits since finding out what he could now do. ]



wildcard |

[ open to any other scenario, pm me if you want to hash out something. dick is from s02e02 of titans. ]
voktys: (Default)

melisandre 🔥 asoiaf

[personal profile] voktys 2020-01-04 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)

( i ) safehouse - modern solutions

if one is stolen from one’s purpose, sometimes it pays to let the little things be a distraction. this (or something akin to this) must have been melisandre’s thoughts. upon arrival, she had dug through the second-hand, threadbare garments free for the taking and had chosen a knitted shirt of an unfamiliar material that was of a truly violent shade of red, and the only skirt she could find. there were no proper stockings, so she went without.

now, barefoot, and pale, she’s found herself in the safehouse kitchen, apparently successfully distracted from the misery of her arrival: there’s a kettle made for cookery, and it works in a truly mysterious and fascinating manner. flick the switch at the side, and it brings the water to a boil, flick it again and, soon, the water ceases to boil.

… she does that about three or four times, seemingly without intention to let the electric kettle finish its job.


Fascinating.

then, catching the eye of someone who may (or may not) be a bit annoyed at the misuse of the kitchen equipment:

Pardon me, is there something you seek?





( ii ) safehouse – namesake

now, she’s been told they would be fitted with identification for this world – not in the shape of family trees and signed scrolls, but in some manner ungraspable and “digital”, tied to whatever mysterious magic has been planted into her brain upon arrival. agents of morningstar are there for this purpose, though there’s something that seems to gnaw on her.

obviously, she could lie. ‘melisandre’ may be her truth, but it was not the truth she had been born under so many years ago. but to lie convincingly, in a world of freshly unknown naming traditions, that is something else entirely.


To blend into this world shall not be so simple a thing. ⟪ there’s an odd accent to her words, but her red eyes sparkle with some amount of amusement. of all the problems she anticipated as soon as she awoke in this strange place, this was not one she expected. ⟫ I haven’t found myself in need of a family name most all my life.





( iii ) fight club

fighting for money, it seems, is a constant. it’s an odd thing to take comfort in, but with her god resolutely not answering, her visions gone, no fire forthcoming, odd comforts are better than none at all.

win or lose, here’s a strange, red-eyed woman offering you a drink after your most recent fight.


That looked well-practiced.

her head tilts lightly to the side, inquisitive, curious.





( wildcard )

hit me!!
Edited 2020-01-04 14:32 (UTC)
song_of_ice: ([Jon] Surveying Crow)

Jon Snow | ASOIAF

[personal profile] song_of_ice 2020-01-04 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Safe House

[He'd been here long enough to let the majority of his anger and confusion pass, but there was still that underlying frustration that lurked beneath the surface. During random moments, his thoughts would drift to the Red Woman's warning about "daggers in the dark" and the letter that Ramsay sent him. He hadn't had time to answer, to lead the Wildlings and whatever Brothers would join him south. Whoever or whatever brought them here intercepted him first and now he was left wondering what would have happened had he stayed.

These thoughts always seemed to come during the tasks that required attention, cooking mainly. For those that were waiting to use the kitchen, he likely was becoming more than an annoyance. Not for the first time, someone came upon him staring at the frying pan, watching as his meat turned black.]


Sorry? Did you say something?

II. Fight Club (Ringside)

[Aggression needed to be worked out in someway and there wasn't really a need for swords here. He had enough training in Winterfell to fight (though more often with blade and bow), his fists needed work and it wasn't as though Jon were afraid of getting pummeled a few times before giving back as good as he got. This was better than sitting around stewing and he always managed to earn some coin on the side.

Not that he came out of this without his fair share of bruises. After each match, he'd take the time to sit on the side, nursing black eyes or cuts with whatever was available. No maesters meant dealing with this on his own. Sometimes there would be company, those nights were better than others.]


Who did you bet on this round?

III. Network [Bad username or site: jon @ snow]

I had some skills before coming here that don't seem possible anymore. Has anyone looked into finding a way into getting our powers back?

IV. Wildcard

[Feel free to choose your own adventure!]
grimmig: a criminal and a mastermind, not a mastermind of criminals (Default)

jim moriarty ♚ bbc sherlock

[personal profile] grimmig 2020-01-04 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
@ anonymous

Hi. Sorry. I think I'm going to need some help. 26th century is a little bit beyond me haha. Does anybody know any breathing exercises? Think I might be having a panci atack




safehouse.

[ there's a funny little man with wide eyes, almost comically ill-fitting hand me downs and a harried expression curled into a chair in the mess hall, legs folded up in front of him and cup of long-cold tea clasped in his hands. he's been there for ages, staring into space, fingers white at the knuckles where he's gripping so hard, looking like he's seen a ghost (or nine) (or ninety).

help? ]
Edited 2020-01-04 21:19 (UTC)
erudita: (Default)

arastra ecces :: oc

[personal profile] erudita 2020-01-05 07:10 am (UTC)(link)
« food trucks »

[ Most of the food is foreign to Arastra, so she picks something that a pushy vendor promises to be amazing, and gracelessly fights her way to a quieter corner to eat her meal, unused to dealing with this many people and nearly bumping into a number of them on her journey. Finally free, she's able to examine whatever it is she got. It's got a sauce, has some chunks of stuff in it, looks... a little slimy, to be quite honest. But, food is food, and she takes a bite.

After a lot of slow chewing, her face settles somewhere between unsure and disgusted. Apparently undaunted, she takes a second bite, but the results don't appear to be any different that the first bite, and she still hasn't given up by the third bite, though she's chewing even slower, if that's possible. Standing awkwardly in clothes that are a little too baggy, she surveys the crowd as if it could hold some secret that could make this meal more bearable. ]


« dreaming »

[ The room is dimly lit and not very large. Shelves and tables line the walls, all of them piled will small objects. Trinkets, teapots in a variety of sizes and materials, clocks and watches, lamps, books, tools, and any variety of old fashioned item. There's essentially no modern items, everything is mechanical and analog in a way that indicates a lack of steam power and electricity. Most of the items seem to be in disrepair in some way, a rusted hole or a broken mechanism, only the items by the main source of light at the back of the room seem to be repaired.

Facing the back wall is a young woman sitting in a chair, bent over an illuminated area of the workbench in front of her. Arastra is quite oblivious to any other presence, and a quiet observer would be able to creep up by her side and take a look over her shoulder. In front of her are the disassembled gears of a pocket watch, one of which is bent, one with a few broken teeth, and one that is largely rusted and falling apart. There's a small set of tools and a spool of wire as well, and Arastra carefully places wire bent in the shape of the missing teeth into the gap. Then, with a deep but steady breath, she places one finger on the wire shape and closes her eyes for a few moments. When she lifts her finger the gear is whole again, no wire and no gap, just a whole gear. She gives a small satisfied smile and uses her small pliers to move the repaired gear to the side and replace it with the rusted gear.

Feel free to interrupt her at any part of the process! ]


« network [Bad username or site: arastra @ ecces] »
To whom it may concern,
Could you kindly direct me to the location of a library where I can learn modern affairs? Particularly those of mechanical and practical manner.
Thankfully,
A. Ecces
investigational: (AWiJRfV)

mary jane watson | spider-man (ps4)

[personal profile] investigational 2020-01-05 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
i. FIGHT CLUB
[ Like any good investigative reporter, Mary Jane Watson has already cultivated a small circle of unsuspecting sources (aka spoke to some locals) and narrowed down areas of particular interest (aka discreetly inquired as to where the action is). The fight clubs seem to be the most promising place to start, with their comparatively lax admission standards. Finagling an exclusive invitation to any of the organized crime-backed clubs or casinos will take more time, but making connections in tonight's crowd is a good start.

She posts up at the bar, sitting at an angle that allows her a nearly unobstructed view of the entrance to the VIP area, but to most will come off as the sort of open and receptive body language that invites conversation. Two birds, one pose.

Rule number one: don't look suspicious. You belong here. You know you belong here. You are so confident that you belong here that no one would ever think to question it. Remember: it's all in the attitude.

MJ always been better at sneaking around than pretending. Someone who dedicated her professional life to digging up the truth has trouble lying, go figure. But needs must, and while she's still learning her way around this surveillance-on-steroids future, her best bet at getting information is blend in and play the long game.

A series of sickening crunches— an unfortunately familiar sound— and excited cries from the audience snap her attention to the ring, where the current fight is rapidly heading toward a TKO. ]


Should just call it a day and go wrap those ribs before it graduates from a fracture to a break, [ she sighs to herself, the resigned tone of someone used to her most reasonable advice going to waste. ]

ii. FOOD TRUCKS
[ MJ is a New Yorker and thus prides herself on having a very worldly palette. She is not about to cower in the face of grasshopper pad thai, even if the very notion of chewing on insects makes her feel like there are hundreds of ants crawling up her spine. At least it's not daddy long legs pad thai; she draws the line at arachnids, for strange yet sentimental reasons.

Okay, here does nothing. One exaggerated deep breath and a few seconds of struggling with chop sticks later and she's scooping a bite of pad thai, grasshopper and all, into her mouth. ]


Mm. Hmm. Mmm.

I don't hate it? The crunch is kinda nice. [ Call it an annoying journalist habit, but maybe the few squeamish looking folks hovering just outside of the line will appreciate her unsolicited review. ]

iii. NETWORK
[Bad username or site: rory @ gilmore]
I assume the final death knell sounded for film photography long ago, but on the off chance of a miracle, any chance it survived?

iv. WILDCARD
[ Choose your own adventure! PM for any questions. ]

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