November 2021 Test Drive Meme

[reddosmod]

NOVEMBER 2021 TDM

Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Perfect dog curled up in falling snow, tilting head to side.]
[Image Two: Dead man floating in water with signs of hypothermia.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Frozen ship wreck.]
[Image Two: Frozen staircase.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Bloody tentacles attacking soldiers.]
[Image Two: Tentacles coming out of astronaut suit.]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

NOT SO STANDARD ARRIVAL

WHEN: November - December
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: Drowning, freezing to death, trapped under ice, hypothermia, frost bite.

---

Washing up on the Farther Shores towards the end of November and the beginning of December isn't the best experience. Normally there are some Sleepers who can show up without a hitch, but as winter nears, the waters begin to freeze and it gets increasingly dangerous to arrive on the Farther Shores. Many Sleepers wind up trapped under ice. Wakers must especially be diligent this month to make sure they don't lose valuable Sleepers. Drowning and freezing to death is extremely probable. If you're lucky, you might be able to break through the ice to shriek for help. Let's just hope someone's around to hear you!

Most of the Boardwalk has been converted to save the Sleepers that do make it. Tents have been put up and inside are mattresses stuffed with hay and blankets made from wool and furs. Contained coal and wood fires keep the tents cozy, but it might take a while before you get feeling back into your toes. If you have warmblood or coldblood you will not have nearly as bad of a time with all of this. Some coldblood Sleepers might not even notice the cold! Might be good to put them on the frontlines for helping people out.

Another oddity this month is that most Sleepers seem to arrive at night rather than the typical daytime arrivals. Maybe it's because daytime hours are much shorter in December...But maybe it's something else too. This has led to Wakers making search parties to try and find Sleepers in the pitch-black night. It's a precarious situation and all hands on deck are strongly encouraged.

The Dog Keeper has come out to help the efforts. His dogs can be seen running frantically around the beach to help find people buried under ice and to help break through the ice to get them to safety. Dogs are available to help Sleepers swim to the Farther Shores, and they are also available to help Sleepers warm up by cuddling up afterward. There isn't much food to offer at this time, but you can still expect to be greeted with some hot soup. It might leave you hungry, but it definitely seems to help warm you up!

FROZEN RELICS

WHEN: End of November, early December
WHERE: Farther Shores/Pthumerian Ocean
CONTENT WARNINGS: Mutilated corpses, frozen bodies, possible frost bite/hypothermia, disaster-centric setting.

---

Sleepers aren't the only thing struggling in the Pthumerian Ocean this time of year. Boats come crushing in through the ice, frozen over completely by blistering winds. The ocean seems to be spitting up boats from times long past, leaving their skeletons strewn along the Farther Shores. Some are small boats, barely worth a second glance, but others are massive vessels, cutting intimidating shapes against the dark sky beyond.

Some Sleepers may even wake up in the water-submerged bowels of these boats, having to navigate a metallic graveyard. Other Sleepers might just have the sense to go and scavenge the boats for useful supplies and parts. Valuable metals can be extracted from the boats as well as other mechanical pieces - but not just that. Sleepers who explore thoroughly will discover small non-magical items from their home might be on the boats, floating in the water, or in random debris. Some boats are trader boats, having entire crates of sealed food goods like rare chocolates, fruits, and other food that is difficult to find this time of year.

You will want to thoroughly bundle up for this trip because it's much colder inside of the boats than it is outside. It's as if they have been transformed into giant freezers. Coldbloods may be able to provide their companions with steady warmth, even if their abilities are typically more ice-centric. It seems like coldbloods can manipulate the cold in these boats to be less intense. Some of the boats may have more grim discoveries: dead bodies, some skeletal, others still with the flesh intact and frozen over. It's never easy to discover the corpses of those who have tried to brave the ocean and failed.

It's easy to believe that what killed these people was the ocean or the cold...But the more bodies you discover, the more thoroughly you explore these shipwrecks, you begin to have a creeping feeling that these aren't ordinary crashes. These weren't natural causes. Some of the bodies look as if the chests had been ripped open while others, the faces have been completely distorted beyond recognition. There is an undeniable presence of something on these ships and you have a feeling whatever killed these people has now been brought to Trench...Great!

THE THINGS THEY CARRIED

WHEN: During Bone Season
WHERE: Throughout Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Parasitic monsters, tentacle horror, crushing/bursting styles of death, a form of beasthood, mild auto-cannibalism/self-harm.

---

You notice specks of blood that seem to appear from nowhere among the snowdrifts. When you pay closer attention, you may see more blood dripping...up. It doesn't look like any Sleeper Blood you're familiar with but instead appears to be black-blue colored, reflecting like glass, bubbling up out of the ground. It makes a small, glass-shattering noise when it appears before it bubbles back into the ground. It leaves a rotten odor in its wake.

The moment you get too close to the blood, even a foot away, it will expand rapidly. Bloodied tentacles will grow out of the blood and start violently lashing around at whatever living creatures are nearby. These tentacles are powerful, impervious to any weapons not reinforced with Sleeper Blood. They will grab up people and break their bodies, throwing them through the air or tearing them apart, seeming to nourish from the bloodshed.

However, some people are less lucky than a swift death. Some of these tentacles may snap right into your chest, opening up some blood portal into your soul, where this Thing will consume you. On the outside, this looks like a rush of this black-blue blood rushing into a Sleeper and then nothing. You'll feel disoriented and strange at first but will become increasingly agitated, violent with those around you. You will start to gnaw at your fingers to shed your new temporarily altered blood. Eventually, you will begin to attack other Sleepers, able to summon these bloodied tentacles and destroy anything in your path.

But this is a parasitic monster you carry. It eats away your sanity until nothing is left, and then the tentacles will burst out of you, your body left to ruin. Parasitic monsters can be removed by Blood Ministers or by forcing vileblood into the infected's body. The vileblood seems to purge the parasite without killing the host body...As long as you don't use too much. Once the parasite has consumed the body, there is no saving the Sleeper except through death. These parasites can be tracked back to the boats where people can find streaks of the unusual black-blue blood throughout the boats. This blood can be contained and isolated by darkbloods and/or Architects.

CODING

Comments

Questions

[reddosmod]

Ask questions about the TDM here!

[siriusly]

Where are the boats from? Any manifests/documents to be pilfered to discern their ports of origin?

hubert von vestra | fire emblem: three houses | vileblood

[edgevassal]

[ 01 | not so standard arrival ]

[There are a few things that register as alarming upon Hubert's return to consciousness. One: that he is conscious at all. Two: he can't move, nor can he feel much of anything; in fact he appears to be completely encased in ice. Three: there is something wrong with his body, the very physicality of it, as if he is inhabiting a different one entirely.

Four: he can't seem to summon any magic, which would neatly solve the ice issue. A problem.

Hubert does not debase himself by calling for help. There's no guarantee there is anyone to hear him, anyway, but more important is that it would be an indignity. He also does not debase himself by panicking; the last time he'd let himself be overcome with emotion he'd been in knickerbockers. He has options. One is to simply let himself freeze to death, which is honestly not as out of the question as it might have been just days ago. But for better or worse, Hubert has never been one to just roll over and accept the inevitable.

The ice seems thin above him, which means he is close to the surface of... wherever he is. He has limited mobility in his left arm, or whatever it is now, and he might be able to use that to break through the surface and make himself an opening before he succumbs to the cold. If he doesn't make it, well. He's simply back where he started.

It's tedious and slow work, wiggling the limb for greater purchase in the ice. By the time he makes a feeble crack through to open air, his thoughts feel sluggish and slippery, and he finds himself forgetting what it is he's trying to accomplish, except that he must keep going at all costs. Finally, he manages to work through the whole of his hand, enough to see that it is clearly not a hand anymore, and waves weakly at whoever might be out there to see.

That's all he can do; already, his vision is blackening at the edges. Either someone will see him and he will be rescued, or he will die. Either is acceptable to him.]

[ 02 | the things they carried ]

[Now that he has his bearings, it seems everything in this strange place is some manner of alien or bizarre.

He has stopped wondering as to the nature of it all, if he had ever bothered to dwell on it in the first place. Perhaps he is in some form of twisted afterlife--only suitable for a person such as him. Perhaps he is truly in another world. He finds he does not much care, as neither changes the fact that he is here. What does matter is that the place is dangerous, and what he lacks in natural curiosity he has plenty in dogged self-preservation instinct. And it seems he has a strange advantage: whatever parasitic entities are infesting the other people here, they don't seem to like him.

He cuts himself stumbling against a rock of all things, and there the mystery both reveals itself and deepens: it's his blood they don't like. He doesn't blame them, looking at it: it's green, and it smells bizarre, and if he were anywhere else it would warrant a direct trip to the medic's tent. But here, it's merely another oddity to add to the list, and it's almost a blessing in how it makes the apparently possessed seem to want to avoid him. At least he doesn't have that to worry about too; just where he is and what's happening to him is plenty.

It doesn't stop coming across the infected any less annoying, though. They are rather difficult to communicate with. At the latest appearance--your character, perhaps--he simply raises his bloodied palm, casually, almost as a dismissal, without even bothering to look whether they have a parasite or not.]

Away with you.

[Can't you see he's sulking.]

[ 03 | frozen relics/wildcard ]

[Hubert will be poking his head around the shipwrecks as well, but it doesn't feel necessary to write a whole prompt for that, so if you'd like to do something there, or an offshoot of the above prompts, or something else entirely, either just throw it at me and I'll roll with it or we can plot at cerebrah!]

01

[deduety]

[Dedue had been more fortunate by comparison in that when he woke he was not stuck under ice. He's still trying to parse exactly what his experience had been, how much of that was real and how much was a dream, but the reality is that he is here, seeking.

And right now, he sees something under the ice, struggling.

Axe in hand, he gives one swing, then another. The ice breaks away enough for Dedue to reach into freezing waters with a wince.

So it was real, perhaps. Being... this. Some sort of squid thing. Still, he knows this creature will suffer, and he would not be so cruel even if most animals tend to be adverse toward him.

The squid is scooped up with one hand, the other reaching for his scarf.]

I have you.

Gintoki Sakata | Gintama | spoilers for the end of the series

[naturallywavy]

1. THE RESCUED (CW: NUDITY)

_{[ Abandoning the city you devoted your life to protecting to go on a bizarre self-evaluating, two year time skip, adventure to find and protect the remnants of your long "deceased" sensei's immortal body certainly had its twists. Like this one. This squid one beneath the ice. It's near the very end of his series, so he has certainly seen a lot in his time, but not anything like this. Gintoki regains his human form with some struggling. Thankfully, this guy is immensely strong, so he manages to punch through the ice and flail, shrilling at the top of his lungs: ]}

SOMEBODY HELP MEEEEEE!!!!! I CAN'T SWIM!!!!

_{[ It's true. He can't. He can fight a reincarnated, evil version of his sensei, but he can't swim. Is he naked right now after shedding his squid-like body? Yes. But he's used to being naked in public places (please don't arrest him; actually, if you're a cop, don't talk to him at all. ) ]}

2. THE RESCUER

_{[ After he's been taken care of, it's time for him to rummage along the ships. Not to find and help others, but rather, he has heard there is some rare chocolate on these ships.. along with items from home. A seemingly innocent scavenge through these ships, one might observe that he's been pocketing as much chocolate as he can muster. However, he's missing something vital and important. One would never know by the way his lifeless, half opened eyes appear and his seemingly calm demeanor as he picks through boxes, completely ignoring whatever poor soul may be on the ship at the time he's gotten there. Gintoki seems disinterested in saving others, but don't worry. He will cause he's the main character in a shounen series. He just has his priorities out of whack. ]}

3. NOT YOUR MAMA'S HENTAI

_{[ In this prompt, your character will be affected by the tentacle blood.
Somehow along the way, Gintoki has found a counterpart. Whether he feels like you need to be watched over or he thinks he can mooch off of you one way or another (maybe a combination of both) he is traveling in tow with you. Despite his confusing journey before arriving here, Gintoki is very closed off about himself and what he talk about. Instead, he's sharing the entire plot of One Piece to keep the conversation going: ]} .. and that's why I have to get back home, oi. It's not even over yet.

_{[ I'm sorry? But now we're coming across weird blood and Gintoki raises his eyebrows. ]}

I wouldn't go near that if I were you.

_{[ He knows Deadman Wonderland. He's seen some shit. ]}

_{[ please take a look at his permissions and 4th wall opt out and/or message me on this account or plurk justaways with any plotting and concerns, thank u.... ]}

2

[tsukky]

[ Looks like this particular ship that she picked to search is already occupied by another "rescuer".

Tsukuyo almost doesn't dare to believe it when she spots that familiar head of silvery wavy hair. He's got his back to her right now, so she could be mistaken and this place seems messed up enough so far to conjure up some fake Gintoki or something to trick her but- ]

What are ya doin'?

[ Pocketing his own body weight in chocolate by the looks of it. Very heroic. Her facial expression as she stares at him says just as much. ]

L Lawliet | Death Note

[hearthebell]

I. Not So Standard Arrival

[Recently, Squid was in a state of considerable stress. Perhaps fear, perhaps pain, but the details are hazy and as free-floating as the trailing tentacles. Squid had been solitary, too, knowing this innately, but with so many surrounding bodies, soft and pale in the burgeoning current, it seems, like the stress, a memory outside of time.

It's peaceful; it could be heaven, for a believer. But Squid's never been allowed to believe for very long. Searching and grasping, Squid has always been unsatisfied with the surface, willing to pull something apart or unravel it to find out what it is. As Squid latches onto the concept, the dawning bewilderment of identity beyond brine and waves breaches, but it's cold, no longer effortless, and extremely hard and brittle.

Bony tentacles with knuckles scrape against the underside of ice with their uneven fingernails. Bony tentacles with knees kick and thrash at the frigid water, and Squid is lucky enough to find a patch of slush, pushing bulging eyes and a gaping mouth through to pull in a greedy breath of cold air that new lungs instantly spasm and reject with hacking coughs. It's energy-intensive, and Squid starts to slip under, but fortunately, there's a new mop of thick, dark hair, giving his rescuer in white something to grab onto to pull the scrawny, shivering body ashore.

Squid holds up a hand, adjusting the focus of sight, noting the other shivering, feeble naked bodies beyond the digits in the dim light. There's enough to see by that Squid is able to tell that Squid is him, and he is being offered a bag, and heaps of blankets and furs, and some kind words that he is beginning to understand

He notices something that feels familiar. Glossy and pink in the sand, the object is round, appealing, shiny, and bite-sized. He reaches for it, bringing it to his mouth as he certainly has hundreds of times with similar objects. He crunches down on it; hastily, he begins to spit out shards of seashell flecked with blood.

He was wrong. That will happen more often in the near future, he senses. Not familiar... at least, less so.]

II. Frozen Relics

[While "good" and "bad" are relative, "improvement" at least orients itself to the circumstances at hand. Being back in the sea right now would not be an improvement; the spindly limbs would chill quickly, and breaths that come soft and shallow would swiftly start to struggle in a stifling deep that's newly incompatible with life.

Time spent warming up in a tent and a bowl of warm soup has made a difference, though the man eats for the temperature and the hunger, and not for the taste. Did mistaking the seashell for candy in his first confused moments spoil his palate? No, more likely that he prefers what's sweet, to a disgusting degree, and it's ingrained to the point that he'd know it even in moments like those. Something else should be ingrained, but is disturbingly absent, or at least dulled; he should feel a sense of urgency to return, shouldn't he? He was important in his other life, even essential... but the strain is soothed like a discordant note pitched back to tune. The soup is warm in his hands; he has a heart that beats. In the not-too-distant past, that wasn't the truth; he'd been killed before he ever combed a grey hair, and then he became Squid, and now he's a person again, of sorts. Personhood demands more than sitting indefinitely in a warm tent soaking up the meager available creature comforts; one can only deduce so much from the way yellow light plays on canvas walls. Pulling his arrival robe around himself and stacking two furs over his narrow, hunched shoulders, he ventures back outside.

Aside from being vaguely young, the man's age is difficult to determine. In the newborn rearrangement of his physical attributes, it's possible that he himself was uncertain, contributing to the ambiguity. He's rangy and pale, overlarge eyes peering out from under a mop of shaggy dark hair. His posture is atrocious, although the heavy furs could be responsible for hunching him so far forward.

The boats are definitely of interest, something new to pull apart and pry into. He picks his way toward the water's edge past the skeletons lain out on the sand; their cause of death is obvious, and therefore not of any interest to the man. Certainly not disturbing; he's seen many bodies, in many states of decomposition. They're as frightening as a croissant or a cream puff, though not nearly as appetizing.

One of the Dog Keeper's animals is nearby, watching him. The canine regards him with distrust; the feeling is mutual. Dogs will think an object has been thrown if an arm moves quickly, out of instinct, but those same instincts make them impossible to fool in the same way as a human. They always know too much, it seems, about the humans who are adept at fooling other humans. The man keeps his steps purposeful, moving past the animal, and it does not follow him.

Others are boarding without incident, and he can justify the risk, picking his way onto one of the larger ships that seems people enough to avoid a crisis in solitude. He's never the first to venture into a new area, always hanging back, watching, indifferent to the bodies he may be waiting with, before following. It may mean he doesn't get the finest spoils, but at least it puts a firmer guarantee on preserving his life.

He's been watching you, in particular. He's seen you head inside a ship chamber, observed to see if something would happen to you. If something had happened, it's unlikely he would rush to help; he regards you with a cold lacquer over his dark eyes, exactly the same way he regards the corpses the explorers encounter.

Though he seems interested in collecting candy and rare imported delicacies when they're found, the first sign of real interest, the first change over his affected and aloof demeanor, occurs when you happen across a body whose death is not as obvious as a drowning. A head separated from a stripped body riddled with vivid, black veins, a face that looks like Picasso experimented with acid, the drug and the caustic.

He pulls an oar from a set of hooks on the wall, using them to turn the head to get a closer look.]

III. The Things They Carried

[This man isn't drawn towards people, so much as he's drawn towards questions, irregularity, wrongness. Frequently, people are in fact the sources of those things, brimming with them until everything overflows and his prying mind can glut itself and win, feel alive until it ebbs and fades and leaves him hungrier than he's yet been.

So far, this world is filled with the kind of wrongness that he fixates on, with strange manic energy. It may be the closest thing this man feels to excitement or happiness, steeped in his own secret wrongness that isn't obvious to others at first, but reveals itself over time in his blank expressions, flat tone, and the way his gestures never seem to flow naturally with either.

He's interested in the blood specks. More interested, now that you're nearby. You have potential for an experiment, and he can't seem overeager. He affects a manner of casualness and wide-eyed curiosity, although the effect is strange; though the approximation and the arrangement of his pale, fine features is correct in a paint-by-numbers sort of way, there's no sincerity whatsoever in his eyes. There might not be anything in his eyes.]

I wonder what it's like to touch... soft, like ashes, or wet like snow?

[He's just wondering. Maybe you'll think it's your idea to actually reach out and do it. Maybe there is something in his eyes.]

ii

[unsheathedfromreality]

[The Dog Keeper's pack weren't the only nonhumans careful of L on instinctive grounds. Anyone who separated himself so far from the rest of the searchers, anyone who spent more time watching than acting, anyone who seemed easier around the dead than the living--alone, any of these traits would have been unremarkable to Illarion; together, they flagged the odd young human as worth the shrike's attention.

Let alone the fact the interest seemed entirely mutual. He'd need to be more than blind to not notice he's being followed--and used as a cat's paw for the more dangerous rooms they encounter.

It hardly bothers him; better him than someone alive. The measure of how little he cares might be taken in how--once he's noticed the other man's preference in spoils--he starts making a point of pulling certain boxes out to where the odd newcomer can be among the first to loot them. They don't always contain sweets, but they do always contain something that might be mistaken for candy in shape or form... And they're not always labeled with their contents.

Often as not he secures for himself a container of anything the other Sleeper selects, tucking it away in the bag he carries. Given how liberally he's taking small samples of anything they find, though, that may not be quite so remarkable. Anything could be a worthwhile trade good, after all.

Otherwise, Illarion keeps himself to himself, neither asking questions nor saying much of anything to the gaunt shadow accompanying them. Otherwise, at least, until it's him and the shadow and the headless corpse and no one else, at which point he simply asks,]

Recognize anything?

[Any sign of interest is, itself, interesting.]

shōyō hinata | haikyū!! | warmblood

[asas]

ɴᴏᴛ sᴏ sᴛʀᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ (ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ) — ᴄᴡ ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ, ᴅʀᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

[ shōyō doesn’t remember how many times he’s woken up from the life of a squid now, especially when it feels like he hasn’t actually woken up but cracked open heavy eyes just begging to go to rest again (and legs that insisted on waving around rather than kicking). it’s freezing. it’s so absolutely cold that he’s stopped feeling it at some point despite how violently his body shivered beneath the ice. painful numbness took over every second he’s either washed up on freezing shores or helplessly being pulled back to the ocean by the tide. ack, did he hit his head on the ice? is there a crack, an opening he’s come across? he’s going under, and when he feels his lungs scorch from the inside out, caused by the water he’s inhaling and has far too much difficulty to cough up, the young man haggardly hushes and chokes words swallowed up by the winter winds: help. he can either be found struggling on the ice edge, or just completely under, pounding at the ice too weakly to really do lasting damage. his blood type is probably the only reason why he’s still awake to even try breathing, but it’s so clear through panicking eyes that he wants to. ]

ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ: ᴘᴛ ɪɪ & ɪɪɪ

[ for pt ii: perhaps you run into each other by the boardwalk instead, and god was his stomach a hungry, empty little pit. shōyō was wrapped in furs, finally, layers over layers to keep the mad frigidness away. having grownup used to years of tropical weather nowhere near the winter of the northern countries, he might even feel colder than most, but maybe that’s just his impression— because he’s actually quite warm! and what’s the best way to get warmer?

it’s exercise, of course! and an athlete, neither someone as usually energetic as shōyō, was going to just wait for that body temperature to feel right. he’s going to make it feel right.

that begins and ends with shōyō twisted into a position that wasn’t supposed to be cursed but now it is— he’s weirdly angled and maybe a leg is too far high and locked and he can’t . . . quite . . .

get out of it. ]

My legs feel like . . . Cold tapioca. [ have you ever seen cold tapioca??? ] Send help.

[ for pt iii: past an unholy warm up and into an entire hour of diving drill attempts on the beach (yes, you may have seen one of shōyō’s many failed tries, jelly legs folding right over his head if he’s hit an obstacle), it’s time to actually eat. shōyō’s even hungrier now that he’s gained enough coordination to act on it, immediately bombing any kind of stall for whatever slab that looks like meat. it’s probably fish, but shōyō can’t help but to actually cry whilst filling his cheeks with too much junk to be considered healthy. ]

Ouuuooooo!! Taste— Picanha!! Or maybe— Cod pastels?!

[ he moans. so good. so good. PICANHA……. ]

I’b neber been sho’ habby for almosht cob pashtels . . .

[ it’s fish jerky. ]

ғʀᴏᴢᴇɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴄs — ᴄᴡ ғᴏʀ ᴇᴍᴇᴛᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ

[ by now, shōyō has spotted enough individuals sneaking onto the boats that it’s caught his curiosity. he might’ve been shy and quiet before, but— that was when communication was a problem. it just felt . . . really spooky to go in there alone. he was a twenty-something volleyball player, not some grand warrior with a sword or psychic powers! which he wished he was bestowed with. alas, you look alone and enterrastes enough that . . . ]

Hey, were you gonna check out the boats, too? Or, um! Did you want to? Maybe we should go together! I saw some people go in and come out with chocolate but then someone else screamed and ran out to barf so I got kinda nervous to just . . .

[ it was him. he barfed. ]

Anyway, I’m Shōyō!

[ he holds a hand out to shake, with enough energy that you might feel like you’re standing in the sun. ]

—You can understand me, right? Portuguese? Japanese?

[ because he’s so speaking a mix in his head right now that it’s hard to tell what he’s hearing, too. ]

ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ: ᴘᴛ ɪɪ

[hopticulture]

[The coat and all other cold-weather clothing Haru is wearing is made from either down, wool, or plant matter like cotton. Things like leather and fur were...well, not a foreign concept, but a clothing wear reserved for residents of the back alley market.

But the animals here are different. The rules around here are different. She's gotten used to the meat, so she's gotten used to people wearing products made from dead animals. That's simply how life is, and she accepts it just as she accepted it back home as a cruel reality of her world that goes unspoken.

Anyway, that aside, the reason why she stops and stares at Shōyō has absolutely nothing to do with what he's wearing, but what he's doing. That looks...painful, and she frowns when he calls out for help.]

Do you want me to try and help you out of...uh, that position?

Rena Ryugu | Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Coldbood

[growingblueflame]

Arrival

(( CW's: near drowning, trapped under ice prompts, PDA ))

A. [ Rena's eyes snap open with a start as if waking from a bad dream. Although given her circumstances, she may as well be waking into one instead. She tries to take in a breath and immediately is met with ice water, and her survival instincts kick in. It's dark, and she scrambles to find her bearings. Her hands brush a hard surface above her and start to pound on it.

It only takes her a few moments to realize it's ice... despite the fact that it isn't very cold for some reason. She slams her hands against it over and over again, but no matter how hard she tries, it just won't break. It's too thick. Her mind races desperately to find any solution to break out.

She doesn't want to die... she can't die here!

Her will alone to survive seems to trigger something in her without realizing it, and suddenly, the ice starts to melt from her touch. She's too panicked to really understand what's happening, and instead just acts on it and presses further. Eventually it's thin enough that she can easily shatter it, and Rena emerges from the water gasping and coughing loudly.

She tries to pull herself out the water but struggles to be able to find a stable enough to pull herself out. Her limbs feel exhausted already, and she fears soon she won't be able to get out unless someone helps. So she tries the only other thing she can think of to do. ]

H-Help! Please help!

B. [ If you're nearby and also under the ice, with some effort, Rena may notice you. When she does, she hurry over, slipping on the ice a bit after emerging from the icy waters herself in sneakers. But she will make it over and fall to her knees over them while gasping for air. ]

I-I'm here! I'll get you out! I will!

[ She presses her bare palms on the ice, and with all her might, she tries to muster whatever she did to break free before. To her relief it seems to work, and the ice starts to melt under her touch. She reaches in once there's a wide enough hole, and she grasps the hands of the person trapped under the ice and pulls. ]

C. [ Safe on the shore, Rena tries to help with efforts of rescuing others and get them dry. It surprises her more than anything that she isn't cold. She knows she should be seeing how she just emerged from a frozen lake, and nearly everyone else is a different shade of blue. But for whatever reason she's... fine. And that alone makes her feel uneasy on top of all the other strange oddities of waking up suddenly under frozen water and being able to break- no, melt -free from it in a very unfamiliar place.

Old habits come out, though, and she quickly pushes those feelings down to help others. She's dried off enough to help pass out blankets and towel down others as needed. She'll even help them walk over to fire if needed as well.

If she sees someone who particularly seems to be struggling to warm up, she'll pat a spot next to her by the fire and holds out her arm with a blanket to wrap around the both of them. ]

If you don't mind getting close to a stranger, I'm here for you.

[ If that isn't convincing enough, there's some pretty cute dogs that seem rather friendly with Rena already curled up next to her. ]

Frozen Relics

(( CW: minor Higurashi (Gou) spoilers, general anxiety, possible threatening behavior ))

A. [ Rena can't avoid the reality of the situation forever, and something about the boats arrivals really makes it sink in. She's far from home and the people she loves and in a strange land. She's not herself at all right now, seemingly changed from within somehow. It makes her feel sick, but she tries so hard to not let the anxiety of it all overtake her.

Perhaps foolishly, she volunteers to go explore one that hasn't been touched yet, and the people around her seem to agree. She hears whispers of "coldblood," but tries hard not to focus on it. It makes her uncomfortable that a lot of the people here seem to expert her to know what's going on already. But that aside, Rena does ago ahead and enter one of the ships.

It's even a little cold for her, a small shiver running through her. After a few moments, it seems to warm up to something more comfortable, and Rena's unaware she's the one causing it. That or she choses to ignore that.

When she hears someone else enter, though, she turns with wide eyes at the person behind her. ]

Oh? Are you coming too?

B. [ The ship itself is pretty empty for the most part. It's kind of beautiful but haunting from the ice that covers it. Rena's very careful with her steps as she moves with her partner. It'd be bad if she fell and hurt herself, but her sneakers aren't exactly built for this kind of weather.

There are definitely some interesting things, but not a whole lot she thinks will be helpful. It mostly seems like junk, which normally Rena would be very excited for. But now isn't the time, and she doesn't have anywhere to keep it all anyway.

However... something does catch her eye pretty deep into the ship. At first, she thinks she's mistaken, but as she gets closer, it's actually something very familiar to her. Something she hasn't used in years. ]

No way...

[ Rena doesn't even hesitate and reaches for it, breaking it free from the ice like the sword from the stone. The weight of it feels just right in her hands, like an old friend who's come by for an unexpected visit. And despite it's inherit unsettling nature being such a dangerous weapon, it brings her some comfort to have it here.

She looks toward her partner once more and lets out a small laugh, a friendly smile on her face. ]

Don't worry! Rena's just going to hang on to this for now; that's all!

Wildcard

(( None of these working for you? Feeling free to DM me or contact me at sekoshi and we can plot something! ))



(( OOC: I'm playing Rena from ep. 20 of Gou specifically, and where that is isn't really story spoilers. It's just important to know she around 18 (so 5 years after the OG canon). But if you'd like me to avoid any Higurashi spoilers (OG, Gou, Sotsu) just let me know! Also heeeeey it's Emma (going by Eko now tho) aka Mami mun! Hoping to join yall with maybe someone new! ))

Arrival C

[killed]

[ Midori offers a soft laugh at the invite. He's bundled up and has been fortunate enough to have avoided falling into the water himself, but he'd been making every effort to assist with the rescue efforts. More specifically, he had offered his care in aiding those who had been injured. After all, one could never have enough goodwill built up. But even with the layers and careful breaks he'd taken, the chill and exhaustion were starting to get to him. This is likely the limit of what he would be capable of tonight. He's pleased with this outcome, though, considering it to be a great success.

When he sees a stranger lift a blanket for him to share their warmth, he tries to will his body to stop shivering. He chuckles, a sheepish smile on his face, seemingly embarrassed to be seen in such a pitiful state. ]

Oh! I couldn't possibly trouble you like that... There's still people who need my assistance.

[ A beat, and his smile strains a little more before he clarifies: ]

I'm a doctor, you see. There's not many of us here.

[ There's even fewer with the exceptional skill that Midori has. ]

G'raha Tia | Final Fantasy XIV | Paleblood

[sandwichbasket]

Arrival. (i) drowning/freezing, an unspecified number of deaths.

[ For fragments of time, when he recalls the concept of breathing, it feels a little like breathing. Like the cycle of umbral and astral aether. There is the dying. The staring up at the sky from beneath the bark of the water. The ice growing inside him and pushing the life out like breath. The water in his lungs. And then there is the rebirth. The stillness followed by a spark of knowing. The simple, many-limbed period of knowing that he is where he belongs. And then tentacles knot together into arms and legs and lungs and the ocean makes itself cruel and unwelcoming and the cycle begins again.

There is cold and quiet. Then there is birth, joy, belonging, the precious moments of being cradled by the ocean. And then there is choking, freezing, struggling death. And then there is cold and quiet. And it is pleasant. Even the worst of it only hurts for a matter of moments, and in the best of it he is small and free and exactly where he ought to be. It would be a shame, to leave it behind.

He doesn't know how many times the cycle repeats before someone takes tools of steel to the skin of the water, slices through it to deliver him. He floats to the surface and his lungs gasp for air without any leave from his mind. His hands reach for the ones above him before he can think to do anything else. ]

Arrival. (ii)

[ Cold. Cold is the name of the thing slicing him open from the inside. It's a monster he swallowed when he was small and free and safe, and now he is too big, all stretched out over a frame of bone, and it wants to claw its way free. He would let it, if he were given his druthers, because he wants it gone. But the people here wrap more and more layers around him to keep it inside. Bid him to pour hot soup into his mouth to scald it into submission. Sit him by a thing he has always known is fire to let the flickering of it lull both he and the cold inside him into calmness. It is easier to remember, when the cold falls calm.

He remembers how to sing before he remembers how to speak. Fortunately for everyone else, he isn't terrible. He sips at the soup. Curls himself up tightly beneath the furs to keep the cold inside him sleeping and contented and safe. Hums sometimes. Sings others, flitting between languages effortlessly. ]

Salina. [ He says, the first thing he's spoken rather than singing, then frowns. It feels wrong. ] Desch.

[ No. That isn't it either. It feels familiar. Achingly familiar, but it isn't his. Not this time. ]

Raha. Raha. [ Yes. That's it. That's his. His brow furrows in concentration as he mumbles to himself. He misses singing. Singing was easier. ] G'raha Tia. No time for sleeping, G'raha Tia.

The Things They Carried. preparation of dead bodies, auto-cannibalisation.

[ Given a little time, he's a lot more himself. Friendly, if awkward. Enthusiastic. Maybe a little too eager to jump from high places. It makes him seem like a poor fit for the grim task of preparing the bodies they found for a return to the sea, but he takes to it so well that one would be forgiven for wondering how exactly one becomes such a natural at preparing large amounts of bodies for funeral rites.

Catch him earlier on and you'll find him doing what he can to clean and dress a body. Carefully rationing a small amount of reclaimed cosmetics to make the corpses look more alive, combing through their hair, patching up the places where something tore through their clothes. It's hardly essential work, but he seems to think it's important.

There's a moment when that changes. If you're there for that moment, you'll see something leap out of one of the bodies, stabbing into his chest and then vanishing. Afterward, he becomes less meticulous. More irriatable. Significantly less concerned with hygiene, if the habit of chewing on his knuckles after touching a cadaver is anything to go by. He breaks skin eventually, then laps idly at the blood as it leaves his knuckles. ]

i

[enblightened]

[When Bigby had been found on the shore, he had been helped swiftly. To him, he is repaying that kindness, and intends to give his strength to those who need it -- especially in the face of the cold. The ice over the water is worrisome, and breaking into it proves to be the right choice.

As soon as hands reach out, Bigby is grabbing on and hoisting whoever it is out. Immediately, he's taking off his shroud, wrapping it around the individual he's rescued. It leaves Bigby with... well, nothing but his torn trousers and chains, but the cold doesn't appear to bite into him as badly as it does others.]

Easy, stranger.

Fakir | Princess Tutu | Darkblood

[anagnorises]

1. lost at sea

The first thing he's aware of is the cold. The piercing bite of it even distracts from the issue of his shape. He qiuckly becomes alarmed by that as well, though, flailing his limbs while trying to remember how many of them he's supposed to have and what shape they're meant to take. Eight? No, half that, centered around bone. Having the right limbs helps. He can grab things, which might help with the cold.

He's some kind of room, filled with a few inches of water which is mostly frozen over. He shivers with more than the cold - he could have gotten stuck in that. He could have died in that.

And he still might die, if he can't get warmer. He casts about in the dim light offered by the room's high-placed windows and finds a bag. He hurriedly dons the clothes inside - his clothes, he's certain. It...barely helps, but it does help, at least. A trunk yeilds an extra coat and a blanket, which he also wraps around himself.

Clumsily, with legs that feel wobbly and heavy, he climbs the stairs at the end of the room and emerges onto...the deck of the boat. It's one of a small fleet that are all trapped in the ice surrounding them on all sides.

Are there other people here? He should find them. They could have actually been stuck in ice, or know how to get to land.

He cups his hands around his mouth yells "hello?" at the nearest other boat. Or, well, attempts to yell. His voice comes out cracked and weak.


2. I haven't seen The Terror but I imagine this is the vibe

He can't stay in this graveyard of ships (and people) forever. The question is in which direction should he head to try to find land? In the end, Fakir decides to head out in the direction most of the boats are facing. There's not much in the way of stores in the boats he's checked, so it stands to reason they were caught while closer to their destination than wherever they started from.

The ice becomes less even as he goes, which he takes as a good sign. As long as it doesn't crack and cause him to fall in...

He squints, looking out ahead of him. Is that a dog?

3. Wildcard

[Feel free to run into him warming up finally on the boardwalk, or while the Thing is attacking, or anything else that works for you!]

( 2, MULTIPLE TAGS INCOMING )

[danserai]

[ ahiru had come to give her aid, as herself and as tutu. apparently her blood?? (eww) could help? she didn't stick around long enough for an explanation or just simply didn't parse, too amped up about people freezing to stay still when she could help.

and then she sees —

Perell | Spout Lore | Warmblood

[frogiturgy]

Arrival
cw: near drowning and near death, references to body body horror and body theft.

[He was a Wizard; his body wasn't strictly human. The ways in which the Thaumic Energy had contorted his body was not unknown to some, and he knew that there were still others who would be… unnerved by how his very bones seemed to twist and bend when he used his body as a channel to transmute the very face of his reality. And yet…

Enough of him was still human-- and this made the depths of the wet and cold near unbearable.

Perell gasped when he broke through the water, the frigid blast of air burning lungs that were still unused to being abused in this manner after weeks of having his body and magic stolen from him. That alone would almost have been bearable-- if not for his limbs, numb from being submerged and still as unstable as jelly (or his 'famous' under-the-bed Hamburger Helper, which only manifested in nigh unpredictable conditions), being all but useless among the ice. It wasn't just the fact that he had just been a squid that had made his body weak. Blood hadn't flowed properly through his muscles for the same amount of time that his lungs hadn't functioned.

Water had filled his body-- waters that were far different but just as magical as the energies he felt in this sea.

Such was the nature of being possessed by a veritable demon born of your own grief, anger, and ambition.

Scrabbling against the ice, Perell willed his fingers to cooperate enough to dig and claw against the unforgiving surface in search of purchase. Each breath was painful, and his rapid, fearful gasps were interrupted by fits of coughing as his lungs rebelled against such abuse-- starting a vicious cycle where he was faced with near drowning if he wasn't careful.

It was all he could do to keep his head above water.

Not for the first time since having his body purged of the demon and restored to him in the center of the Sea of Graves, Perell reached with this mind-- his thoughts-- his self for enough of a trace of Thaumic Energy to transmute his way to safety. He could have transmuted enough of the water into solid form to bring him to the surface… Or, at least a floating device to grasp upon!

But there was nothing. There was still nothing-- and panic stabbed it's icy fingers into his heart.

There he was, weak as a kitten in the waters, without even the strength to scream.

He wasn't a praying man. Having met the First of the Sailors and hearing his grumbles that sounded with the depths of a ship creaking in a storm, he knew that praying wasn't even accepted practice to honor the Patrons.

Yet--

He still offered a silent prayer to the darkness that consumed him-- to anyone, anything that listened or cared.

Perell, the last of the Wizards, wasn't ready to die.]

Boardwalk

[He could scarcely remember how he got to land-- consciousness had come in fits and starts since he collapsed in the arms of his rescuer, and Perell was just glad to be on shore. Wrapped up in a heavy blanket, which he even pulled up and over his bald head, he mused over his continued streak of near brushes with death and recurrent rescues. If not for Vyng, Tuck, and Billie, he knew that he would have been dead ten times over. Those idiots kept coming after him… and he found himself growing fonder of the trio of oddballs with each passing day. After decades spent in literal and metaphorical confinement, he had forgotten what it was like to have friends…

A shudder ran through him with these thoughts, and he couldn't help but be amused by the massive and fluffy dog that nosed at his face, as if to check on him and his well-being. Whomever the Dog Keeper was, Perell was grateful… And he suspected that he would never stop being grateful to the many strangers he encountered in his life for the care and understanding they gave to someone they didn't know.

Among other things, he was grateful for the warmth in the recovery enclosure at the Boardwalk. And the soup.

Perell's fingers were still so numb that, when he dropped the spoon for the tenth time, he just tiredly watched it land at someone's feet for a moment before heaving a frustrated sigh.]

Guess even spoons are out of the question now…

[He trailed-- before shrugging and lifting the bowl itself up to his lips with shaking fingers. It wasn't much, but it was soup. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything substantial since being swept away by the tides around Crystal Bay

Catching someone staring at him, with his round glasses fogged and his angular nose barely peeking through the folds of the blanket while he sipped at his soup, Perell balked.]

What? It's good soup.

Text | un: perell

Does anyone know where to get a decent hat around here? Preferably the comfortable but fashionable kind.

I haven't found mine yet, and it's weird not having one.
-Perell

Text | UN: A_Wesker013

[subject_013]

Prufrock has some shoos that offer haberdashery of the more practical variety, while Willful Machine has a number of quirky shops offering more unusual apparel. I'm not much of a 'hat person', but I've found a Homberg fedora comes in handy in this place.

Kazuma Asogi | Great Ace Attorney Chronicles | Warmblood

[truerevival]

[Notes: Kazuma's canon can be a bit spoilerish with him in general. Please let me know if I should avoid anything from Game 1 or 2! Also: Willing to match tag style :3]

Arrival

I. near-drowning, trapped under ice, near-hypothermia, nudity, etc.
There's a feeling of fog, of not knowing what came before. A haziness that lingers before sensation settles into his very bones.

Cold. Yes, that was what it was.

The biting cold settles into his consciousness first. Then there's the choking, the press of water as it fills his lungs. Then the panic, the scrambling of stiff limbs in freezing water as he tries to break to the surface and meets the resistance of hard ice. He braces his arms against it, eyes stinging in the water as he tries to see an opening, a way out. Fists to ice, hard and heavy hits until it starts to crack. Breaking free is like a rebirth.

I've had one of those before. A rebirth, a remembrance. Revival. 

"H-Help!" The sound of his voice is foreign even to his ears, rough and breaking as he tries to seek purchase on the slick ice.

II. 
With the boardwalk and the tents set against the cold, there is more welcome scenery after the near-disaster of the sea and the arrival on the beach. Kazuma is now bundled against the cold in one of them, a swath of blankets hoarded in a pile as he huddles on the straw bed.

His head still swims in confusion after the ordeal he faced in first coming to this place, but he is certain of a few things.

His name. Asogi. Kazuma. His age. 23. And what belongings are his: the pack at his side and the sword he had quite a tight hold on. It was enough to at least have a bearing on who he was, if not where or why he was.

Perhaps he should venture out of the tent, get more information. A good idea, or the start of one. Though when he does venture outside it is with every intention of staying close to the area he knows--the boardwalk and little beyond. There is a comfort in being close to the sea, frozen and deadly as it was. He had spent enough time upon it before.

Frozen Relics

I.  dead bodies, mentions body horror, possible spoilers
Ships are a familiar and welcome sight normally when they were not moored and covered in ice. When they weren't standing freezers that echoed with something.

When they didn't have bodies that looked as though they had been torn apart littering their halls. Kazuma had come here with the hopes of finding something--answers, supplies, either one would be welcome. Instead, he found himself standing with a corpse at his feet. Whatever fate this person had faced left them with a crater in their chest and viscera sprayed across the walls.

"Good lord..." He brings a hand to his mouth, worry and disgust evident. Was whatever had done this still around? A threat? His other hand is braced on the hilt of the sword at his hip--would it do any good if he were to find the source of this tragedy?

Frozen Relics

[convene]

The ships in the harbor were eerie as they were fascinating. He steels himself as he slowly moves his way through the hull, noting the ice that splintered the wood and the frost that covered the walls. He draws his heavy wool, Western-style coat around him tight as he quietly (or as quietly as one can be with the soft creaking of the boards beneath his feet) makes his way down the corridor.

The sound of someone else on board immediately raises an alarm in his head, his hand moving to the hilt of the katana as he creeps his way to the door, back against the wall. He peers around the corner and--

"Asogi?!" He steps in, and instead of being relieved to see his friend, he's horrified by the presence of the body, long dead and mutilated. His mind races back to the Sleeper farm as he covers his mouth to keep himself from vomiting. "How..." He starts to speak, but it trails off into nothing because he doesn't even know what to ask.

Doctor Otto Octavius | Spiderman II | OTA

[octavius_lives]

Not So Standard Arrival

Were the Wakers to see the transformation, they would have known in advance that something was badly wrong. The creature that moved up towards the ice, up towards the surface and transformation - it did not do so either uniformly or well. It jerked back and forth, as if unsure which way to go, its progress coming in fits and starts as if decision were impossible. In truth, this was not one mind, in the moment, but four; none of which could comprehend what they were experiencing and panicked - feeling each other but not making sense of the moment.

The Wakers await a man. But what bursts through the ice with an electronic sort of scream is a three-tined metal arm, and then another, and then another still. The man does rise, but he dangles from them as if a corpse. The fourth arm follows, all four sporting a red sensor eye at their centre, moving in an erratic fashion as four electronic minds re-adjust to something that could be called reality.

The fact that they near-immediately attack the Wakers, which they perceive a threat, is almost inevitable. They're too confused to kill, in the moment, but bodies are flung about like cardboard, slammed back to Earth with enough force to bring about concussion or broken bones.

It takes them a small while to locate the bag with supplies, tossing aside most of the relics as inexplicable - but locating the man's clothes, and draping him in whatever warm pieces they can grab from fleeing Wakers.

And when Otto Octavius finally awakes from a dream of drowning, it is into a cold nightmare, the arms dressing him as if for war.

"Oh, no, no, not this, please..."

Existence is, by itself, sometimes cruel. Nearby, the Dogs watch, unsure.

Frozen Relics

With time, and an urge to be away from people, the scavenging begins. Metal means something to build with, tools. Components mean machinery - bring the two together, in the hands of a genius, and you can get...possibility.

And so, across various frozen, crystalline vessels, a grim figure in coat and dark glasses can be found, propelled by four, tentacle-like arms with unnatural ease. His face portrays nothing but grim mission; everything about how he moves is a touch of the unearthly, especially when the red sensor eyes turn this way and that, the arms chittering in their binary language, speaking to each other - or maybe to him?

From a distance, it is difficult to tell. But nothing made by man should be that quiet when they wish to be - perhaps you find them right behind you, the man at their centre regarding you with an impassive face. One of them rears back, as if to strike, and...

"No," he speaks, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. "You listen to me, now."

Frozen Relics

[droptheious]

Varian has been out on the ice, trying to help new Sleepers find their way to the shore. His coldblood means that he doesn't feel the bite of the temperature drop, and aside from struggling to figure out better traction for his metal leg, he's been doing okay. It's better to be out there, focusing on helping people than everything going on back on land, anyway.

He definitely isn't expecting the TENTACLES. It takes him a few moments to parse what he's actually seeing, body tense- especially as one rears back. The man is talking to them, ordering them- and Varian's mind is working ten-to-the-dozen, trying to understand what's happening.

"Um...hi? I was here to see if you...you needed help getting to shore?" a beat. "I'd appreciate it if those things didn't hit me."

Jake | Animorphs | Darkblood

[siberians]

★ ARRIVAL — DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF ANYTHING

[Someone out there has got to be laughing at the cosmic irony of it all, and unfortunately, the Sleeper who'll someday remember that his name is Jake already has a pretty good — if hazy — idea of which two someones those might be.

Maybe that's just karma, or whatever. In a cosmic flash of an instant he stops being one thing, and the next time he's something again, it's wiggling and helpless and immersed in liquid with only the barest of ability to sense anything about the world around it. Incomplete, until it finds a better form to take. Useless and worthless and slimy.

At first, he flails his not-hand appendages against the ice over his head, but they're not suited to this type of work. Not evolved for it, something in the back of his mind supplies, like the voice of an old friend, like wisdom delivered in blue jean overalls with bird poop on the knees. Next he swims, looking for a crack in the ice, or a place where it ends, or some kind of opening that he can wriggle through. Creatures like the thing he is are good at squirming through tiny openings, he thinks faintly. They push through and flatten out and stay there for just a little under three days.

Eventually, the cold starts to get to him. Saps the willpower from his wriggly little body, tempts him to stop fighting and just let the drowsiness take him. Like a battery run down into nothing. He could be nothing, and vaguely he thinks that it would be like wishing this were all happening to someone else, someone else and not me.

But then, something surfaces — something sharp and fierce, something so deeply encoded into his blood that it isn't even a thought but an instinct —

Morph.

Morph!

The next time he strikes the ice, it's with a hand of bone and skin, evolved with a thumb for grasping tools or in this case, just for holding the fingers tight in a fist so that when they finally bash up against a thin patch o fthe ice cover, it's the ice that gives way and breaks long enough for him to get his head (human!) up above the surface of the water (pool!) and scream for help from anyone who might hear.]

★ BOARDWALK — UNFORTUNATELY NONE OF THEM LOOKS LIKE SNOOPY

[About the only thought on Jake's mind by the time he makes it to the Boardwalk is that being cold and wet and potentially hypothermic really sucks. It's not even the first time he's found himself in this particular predicament; as he cups a mug of steaming soup in his freezing hands, he ruefully thinks to himself that at least this time he's not stuck wearing bike shorts or a leotard.

For the most part, he keeps to himself, not really inclined to talk to anyone and not feeling inquisitive enough to try to chase down answers to any of the questions he might ask about his current circumstances. It's easier if he keeps things very, very simple. Wiggles his toes to make sure that feeling stays in them. Sips his soup to keep that odd sensation of heat trickling down his throat all the way to the pit of his stomach.

The only thing that really seems to rouse him out of his stupor, eventually, is the sight of the dogs. It's the first and only thing that manages to make him crack a smile, for all that it's a sad one. But when a few of them come over to investigate him and cuddle up close for the sake of warmth, he sets his soup aside and reaches out with the easy familiarity of someone who owned a dog of his own once himself, sinking his hands into their fur and scratching in all the right places, and at least letting their simple canine joy wash over him like sunlight, even if it doesn't sink in very far beneath his skin.]

★ SHIPS — SOMEONE CHIME IN WITH A "LET'S DO IT"

[Some old habits die hard, he supposes. Surely that's what has Jake standing near the shoreline and looking out over the variety of skeleton ships floating offshore, thoughtful and quiet but with a certain set to his shoulders that speaks of someone who's looking with intent, and not merely off into the middle distance.]

Probably wouldn't be smart to take on trying to get inside one of those things alone.

[He's saying it mostly to himself, even if you happen to be within earshot. Though, feel free to invite yourself into the conversation; he'd probably appreciate it.]

Two, bare minimum. To watch each other's backs. And you'd need supplies, tools. Probably some rope. They always take rope in the movies.

★ ANYWHERE — WILDCARD

[Want to run into Jake somewhere else, or plot with me in general? Feel free to PM or leave me a comment here!]

boardwalk

[enblightened]

[One of the few people that Bigby felt comfortable with eventually in his old life was the Houndmaster, the canine strong but affectionate. Upon her kind nuzzles was when William started to warm up to Bigby in turn, bridging one of the first of Bigby's... well. Friendship might be a strong term, but there was something.

So he watches a bit fondly as this boy runs his fingers into the dog's fur, yet he can't help but see a familiar look in his eyes. The kind where someone has seen too much, a burden indeed.

It makes his tired heart ache a bit.]

'Tis a relief to find companionship, is it not?

[Bigby gives both the young man and dog alike their space, as he does with most people, but he does crouch to hold the conversation.]

They're good beasts. Reliable.

Hop Pop Plantar | Amphibia

[idontfeelsafe]

Not so Standard Arrival

[ The strangest thing to potentially wash up on shore is definitely not an unconscious person or someone struggling against the cold waters. What washes ashore is instead a 3 foot tall block of ice. From a distance it doesn't look like anything remarkable other than a vague shape inside. But when you get closer you see a frog...with hair...who's wearing an ascot...and looks old with a vacant look in his eye.

Anyone with the ability to feel minds or souls or even a general sense of life or death will be able to tell this frog creature is indeed very much alive, just asleep and frozen. Thaw him out, crack him open.

Later, he can be found in one of the wood fire tents, very much unthawed but very drunk looking. His head lolls a bit in the direction of the opening when someone comes in the old man frog says; ]

Taller Anne, what did I say about leaving the door open? And turning your head into rainbow sparkle dust?

[ He's fine. ]

Boardwalk

[ Later when the post hibernation stupor wears off, Hop Pop is looking around the boardwalk nervously. Every so often he calls out; ]

Sprig! Polly! Anne! Where are you kids?! [ Don't mind this nervous old frog looking around and beginning to talk to himself; ]

Oh those kids better not have run off. This place looks way too dangerous...

And they might get sucked in by the FANCY! Don't think I have enough Coppers on me to repair any of the damages if they get up to something.

Video | Un; aldkala

[ Here comes an old man Frog on video, throwing his arms in the air; ]

WHAT'S WITH ALL THE LOCALS AND ASKIN' FOR MY BLOOD!? I don't have that much to give!

[ And just as quickly; ]

Also can one of you kind people tell me where I can get some new ascots? The ones I had got washed away in the sea.

Hey, its my sibling show!

[imaglyphwitch]

[She was doing some recover of squid trapped under the ice, and here something bigger caught her attention!

Luz happened to find the frog in the ice, and luckily it was her Pale Blood powers that told her that he just needed to be thawed. Wasting no time, Luz cast her fire glyph and kept it at a nice, even burn so that the ice would melt slow enough that he'd be free.

Once he's nice and thawed, Luz sticks her head in the tent and heard his query.

Oh hey, good to see you're awake, uh, sir. Name's not Anne though. I'm Luz!

Naoto Shirogane | Persona 4 | Coldblood

[killjoyprince]

01. Not so standard arrival (CW:drowning, hypothermia)
[a.
She couldn't breathe. It felt like something was crushing down on her, pressing the air out of her lungs. Naoto scrambled, instinct making her kick and blindly swim to the surface. Only for her numb fingers to scrape against something solid... and cold. She choked, clawing again, trying to force herself to move. To find an opening. The dogs' frantic barking was lost to her ears.

What wasn't lost, was their teeth as one broke through. Grabbing Naoto by the arm and hauling her onto the ice. It wasn't a difficult task, she didn't weigh much and the cold had sapped too much of her energy to move. Leaving her prone as the dogs whined and pawed at the small body. She spluttered, just about alive. The bite to her arm ignored for now.

Eventually, she caught her breath enough to start moving. She huddled closer to one of the dogs, shivering as she held it like a lifeline. Her brain a fuzzy mess... Hypothermia. She-She had to do something, now she had the chance. But...She had nothing. There were no warm, dry clothes to change into. The tools she had on her couldn't be used to start a fire, her hands were shaking too much even if she'd had what she required.]

[b
[Truth be told, Naoto wasn't 100% sure how she'd ended up in the tents. Troubling, but to be expected. She'd been in shock, she'd come very close to dying and she still wasn't sure how she'd ended up in this situation. Coddled in a blanket, bandaged and wrapped in layers of clothes that weren't her own.

She pursed her blue lips. Frowning as she lifted her head, keeping her pitch low.]

Did you find yourself in the water as well?

[Probably. But it was good to check and see if there were any other similarities. Try and compile some information.]

Frozen relics (cw:death, corpses)
[Once she was well enough to move on her own, it was time to investigate. Or make an attempt. Boats like this... Was this a particularly sailing route? But why come this way if those before hadn't made it? She pressed on, pulling the borrowed woolen hat over her ears. Her own had been lost... Probably for good in the waters.

... All thoughts about her hat shifted when she spotted the corpse. Slumped against the wall, partly frozen to it, ribcage splayed outwards. Naoto hissed, but otherwise remained impassive. Paling as she came across more.

One horrible thought coming to mind.]

...It doesn't look like a gunshot.

[The blood splatter was wrong for them to have been shot from the front. But what else could cause that much damage? Sukuna-Hikona starting to buzz in the back of her mind.]

03. Wildcard/OOC Note
[Let me know if you're interested in anything else. Please note I'm still voicetesting. Canon point is P4 Golden true ending but before the epilogue. ]

not so standard arrival ( b )

[ex_of620]

[ how did xiao find himself here, looking all burrito'd up? well, one of the dog keeper's canine helpers insisted, almost like it had some odd awareness that xiao would rather freeze than rely on outside help like this. so he's stuck here until his temperature decides to regulate itself lest the doggo by his feet will tail him around with barks of protest.

xiao makes for quiet company nonetheless, almost like he isn't even there — until he's spoken to anyway. ]

... Why do you ask?

[ have they all not been submerged one way or the other — many by the shoreline, a few unlucky ones caught within the confines of metal, sleek with ice. ]

Kaedehara Kazuha | Genshin Impact | Coldblood

[acerpalmatum]

[Frozen Relics Burn]

The scent on the wind is foul.

[Comes the grave yet soft-spoken voice from behind you. The owner of which looks around the frozen husk of a ship with his sharp, red eyes. His white hair sticks to his face much like the paltry robes he woke from the ocean in. He appears young, but there is definitely something behind his words that mark him worldly.]

I do not believe we will find any survivors here. I suggest we leave, lest this coming storm claim us like the others.

[Scent on the wind? Coming storm? The guy clearly has a poetic but theatrical way of speaking. He does look dead-serious, however so maybe you should heed his words.]

[Like Cold Steps On The Boardwalk]

[Having made his way to shore, Kazuha finds himself in a ...very unusual place. The Drifter does not seem lost, though he does look around with some degree of cautious wonder. This place is nothing like any of the nations he's heard of in Teyvat, and so he concludes he is very far away from what he knows. While that would not entirely unsettle him, as one used to aimless travel and distance, he can't help but find this place's assault on his senses utterly intolerable.]

Blood permeates everything in this ...poisoned land. Just where has the tumult sea brought me? The scent is-- oh.

[Kazuha cuts off as one of the Dog Keeper's dogs trots up to him. Strange as the creature may be, a dog is a dog and nothing prevents the samurai from kneeling down and giving it proper pets. Ah, what a good boy...]

Hello there, my friend. What news have you for a wanderer such as I?

[Warns What Was Carried.]

[This entire place smelled of blood in ways he was certain he'd never be free of, but there was something specific and potent about what his picked up on, following this person down the streets of Prufrock.]

[The monster made itself known, with tentacles bursting from the poor bastard's chest, lashing out at Kazuha and anyone who might have been near. Kazuha reaches for the sword at his side, falling into a stance just shy of drawing his blade and warns.]

Don't get any closer! I fear there's little left of the one the beast has claimed.

Frozen Relics Burn

[skyshard]

[ Aether spins around at the voice, surprised. He's bundled up in a parka with his hood up, eyes widening in recognition before clearly hesitating. Is this another one of of his friends from his sister's timeline? Time to find out, since either way, it's still Kazuha. ]

... Kazuha? ...Are you okay! You arrived during all of this? [ frantically checking him to make sure he's not suffering from the cold at all, and very relieved he didn't end up trapped under the ice. ]

adrien agreste / chat noir || miraculous ladybug || darkblood

[chattastic]

arrival
[ Adrien is used to changing shapes, he's used to it. But coming to himself deep underwater without his underwater suit as Chat Noir isn't something he ever expected to happen. Having tentacles? That's also a new one. But at least he has sense enough to go toward the surface, using his tentacles (?!) as best he can. He can see pale light through the water and aims for it, even as his tentacles somehow stop becoming tentacles in a strange, uncanny way, one leg kicking out, then an arm, then another arm.

He's almost completely human by the time he reaches the top only to find--

Ice.

That's ice. He stares up at it, his lungs burning, his fists hammering on the ice.

Lips bursting with bubbles, he tries to cry out: ]

Plagg! Claws out!

[ But nothing happens. He looks up at his hand, and there's no ring there. No ring. No Plagg. No Chat Noir.

This is how he dies, he supposes. That thought isn't as scary as he thinks it should be. It isn't quite as scary, but it's not like he's going to give up. He hammers on the ice, but tries to conserve his breath, slamming his hands against it.

One hand breaks through and he's able to wave it up in the air, kicking his one leg and his other tentacles to try and bring it up as high as he can.

Please, someone, help him ]

parasites
Watch out!

[ Adrien sees that bubbling blood out of the snow, and you, whoever you are, are close to it, and he runs at you, slamming you out of the way, just as the tentacles start bursting up out of the snow. Luckily, though, the pair of you roll away from it fast enough, through the snow, that the parasite can't get you. ]

Close one, mon cher! You were almost an octo-snack!

anything else
[ hit me! ]

Arrival

[pridefulness]

[ Sasuke doesn't know if he hears the weak pounding on the ice or sees movement below. His own head is foggy, a combination of his jumbled memories and the cold slowing everything down. Not that it matters which he saw first. He just knows someone is stuck beneath the ice as he had been not long before.

He pushes past the heavy feeling in his limbs and brings his foot down on the ice, but the force behind it is weak and there's no give.

A muttered curse. Another try. When that doesn't work, he fumbles through a few hand seals. It takes a few tries to get right, the cold of the water and air having long since numbed his fingers. He needs to force them into the right shapes over and over again, until he can finally feel the heat building in his chest. He spits a jet of flame, the heat biting into the ice enough that--yes!

Sasuke brings his foot down one last time and finally breaks through, water and broken ice sloshing up around his ankle. Wasting no time, he kneels to grasp for Adrien, hoping to help pull him up and out from the depths. ]

mikaela banes | transformers | darkblood

[catalytics]

𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓇𝒹

[ When consciousness returns, it isn't kind. She is frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. Fists beat on the layered ice, scream stuck in her throat and muffled by the water that threatens to consume her. Already, darkness edges her vision, but she is nothing if not persistent, and she beats on the ice with numb fists before resorting to using her feet, kicking frantically.

Either she will break free, or someone will help her, or she will die. Consciousness that she has so recently regained is fading again, hypothermia threatening to settle in. Her bones are cold, her soul frigid as darkness creeps in. ]

pǝıɹɹɐɔ ʎǝɥʇ sɓuıɥʇ ǝɥʇ

[ With or without someone's help, Mikaela will break free and survive, because she has always been a survivor, from the time she was a little girl playing in her tiny backyard with her daddy's tools up until the time she ran across the desert to help Sam and the Autobots.

She is clothed now; draped in robes that are unfamiliar and scratch against her skin, alone and cold as she trudges through the city that she has become a part of. where she's going, she doesn't know - where she still stay, she doesn't know. the only thing Mikaela knows for sure is that she cannot stop, cannot sit down and give up, because that isn't and never has been her style.

What does stop her short is seeing a local be snapped up by a tentacle and subsequently torn to pieces. It rips a scream from her lips and she stumbles back, away from the thing in the ground, possibly knocking into another Sleeper. ]

(( ooc; there is always the wildcard option if none of these strike your fancy. feel free to hit me up at pincurls and we can discuss something else. ))

oh hi - also Tentacle Beastie

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Ugh. This again.]

[He is far too old and far too cantankerous to keep dealing with these spontaneous awakenings in strange places. First that place with deer everywhere, now this absurd, backwater city. How dare it shrink him down, render his weapons inoperable. That is downright insulting.]

[Still, ten feet tall is nothing to sneeze at, and it's probably the reason the populace is giving him a wide berth. Just like before. Except they don't seem as wary...]

[Before the big bot has a chance to ponder that any further, someone screams. A human body stumbles into the back of his leg. How he'd failed to notice, he'll deal with later. Instead - he recognizes the human. The female.]

What - why are you shrieking?

[Nice to see you too, Mikaela!]

Broly - Dragon Ball Super - Paleblood

[exiledtovampa]

Arrival

Off shore a bit, there's a squid trying to figure itself out.

It doesn't seem as much interested at reaching shore as many of the others in favor of thrashing about in an incredibly uncoordinated fashion, the chromatophores across its skin flashing vivid white-red-white-red of alarm and agitation. Squid thoughts merge, albeit poorly with rational thoughts, bit by bit. But coordination does follow, and quickly, multiple tentacles tucked, squirting back and forth under the ice, rotating slowly in place and exploring what it can reach with questing graspers. There's an urge to reach shore, to reach the ice, to go and be and gradually its attention turns from figuring out how to swim with the muddled understanding of growing awareness to following the other shapes in the water.

Beneath the layer of ice it circles, restless. It's cold (it isn't cold at all, it's been colder, much colder-), the water in its gills sharp with frost and tiny shards of ice, and it wants out. It's aware enough that 'out' seems an incredibly foolish thing, there's no water up there, how would it ever breathe?

But above the ice, a dog frantically scrambles to dig a hole down towards the water, and below the hardworking dog, the squid does its best to do likewise, grating beak against the frozen solidity, questing tendrils pulling at jagged bits of ice. Tentacles that might be fingers or hands or limbs, and fingers curl much better than a tentacle ever could, a fist can strike harder than a beak could, and the ice heaves under the impact from below. The dog barks, scrambling for footing as the ice settles back into place, fractured and broken, and resumes digging, its excited squeaks and yaps a clear sign that it's found whatever it's been searching for.

The ice buckles upwards again. The ocean water isn't so welcoming now, isn't so easy to breathe in gills changing to lungs.

Somewhat Later (tw: nekkid)

He still wasn't really that cold.

It's chilly, certainly, there's ice on everything, ice forming on the tips of his hair if he stays still long enough, but he's always been resistant to the weather and that hadn't changed even if he ... somehow had. He'd been located to one of the fires, the helpful dog that had worked to dig him out deciding the best place it can possibly be is curled up on his lap, and between the fire and the dog he'd felt no need to seek out things like blankets. Or clothing.

For all his considerable size and bulk, Broly has a distinct air of being approximately as dangerous as the dogs running about, and perhaps about as clever, staring at the goings-on with wide eyed curiosity and puzzlement. Most people would at least ask questions and find out what's going on but he stays put, watching and listening.

Frozen Relics

[No immediate prompt for this one - but Broly is big, and very strong - if someone wants to conscript him into carrying Loot from the ships, he can be easily pressed into service by anyone not being overtly mean! Feel free to take blatant advantage!]

Arrival

[searingwing]

Something pounds across the ice and then heat fills the air. Black and red gloves hands press to the wall of ice between as the heat grows and grows, pouring through the frozen water and opening a man sized hole. A hand thrusts through the open gap.

Diluc Ragnvindr is a tall man with long, wild red hair and fierce eyes. He is wrapped in threads of brilliant red magic as he shouts with the voice of a man used to giving commands, “Grab my hand and I’ll help pull you out! Focus on me.”

The dog digs a second more than moves back to give Diluc room to work.

Jun Kohinata | Tokyo Xanadu + CRAU | Warmblood

[whiteshroud]

[ 01. Not So Standard Arrival ]
[Well, waking up in a freezing ocean wasn't how he expected today to go.

After the initial startle, he's quick to act. He punches through the ice above him, allowing him to pull himself up onto the ice. Once he's out of the water, he's summons his knight uniform to wrap around his body for warmth. Instead of the cross, a golden trinket hangs off his belt. All in all- the white shrouded figure standing on the ice float in the darkness probably isn't the most comforting of imagery.

Nor is the fact when he speaks, his voice is distorted through a modulator, making it impossible to tell just who this guy is supposed to be]

Just where have I been brought to this time....?

[02. Frozen Relics]
[No worries for those who don't want to deal with shrouded figures during the night, he can be found on the beach during the day. He's on the beach by himself, surveying the wreckage of the boats and bodies on the shore. There's a calm, methodical way he goes about it, examining each piece of evidence as he keeps moving on. When it happens to be a body, he does take a little more time to give a prayer to the departed before moving on]

May you rest in peace.

[Still, whoever this guy is? He's clearly used to stuff like this. Eventually when it seems he's seen enough, he'll pull back and mull to himself:]

...Waters these cold don't usually give up their dead. Something brought this here.

[OOC: I'm also up for a wildcard option! Jun is a CRAU from Upcycle and Stella Fortuna. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me at neutronstar!]

01

[droptheious]

[Varian's been wandering the ice to try and help newcomers escape the freezing waters and get to shore - because it's better than sitting at home and doing nothing about it. His coldblood means he can brush off the freezing temperatures like they're nothing (finally, a good thing about his powers) but he's having difficulty finding traction on the ice with his prosthetic leg. Something to work on, later, he decides.

He's all prepared with a chemical solution to help the latest newcomer out of the ice, but he seems to have that in hand. And getting his clothing situation sorted- some sort of magic, he assumes. It's definitely not what he'd expect the first things out of a new Sleeper's mouth to be- but there's a first time for everything. ]

It's called Trench. Uh...hey. Are you hurt? Do you need help getting to shore?

Jinx | Arcane | Paleblood

[felldownawell]

((Spoilers up through Act III abound. Voice testing for the most part since I can't app this round.))

NOT SO STANDARD ARRIVAL

[ Trapped.

Drowning.

Those are the first thoughts through her mind as she comes-to in the freezing waters beneath the ice. She beats her fists against the ice above, desperate to free herself, thankfully it's thin enough that she manages to break through. Screaming loudly in rage, confusion, and fear with whatever air was left in her lungs as the ice shatters upward and she surfaces into the icy air above.

That scream should make her an easy target to find as she scrambles to try and drag her naked body from the water. Though she's having a great deal of trouble finding purchase on the ice to pull herself free.

She's pale, so much so that her veins can be easily seen beneath almost translucent skin. And there's so much hair trailing freely behind her that it's a wonder that it isn't pulling her back beneath the ice. ]

FROZEN RELICS (dead bodies)

[ If there's one thing Jinx can't do, it's sitting still. Once she considers herself recovered enough, she's off to do whatever she can to fill her time. Finding other new arrivals is not on her mind, instead, she's spotted the shipwrecks and is making a beeline for one. Anyone is free to join her, though they're likely to get roped into carrying stuff for her.

Wrecked ships mean treasure. Well, perhaps not treasure to most people, but to her, it means tools and parts to build things. She hums as she picks her way onto the wreckage and begins her search for anything useful.

Despite being as bundled up as she possibly can, she finds the inside of the ship colder than outside. She tucks her hands up under her arms and begins to pick her way through the ship, doing her best to ignore the biting cold.

She comes across some bodies, practically skeletal. Speaking to them as she spots some parts she can pull free and stuff into her pack. ] Sorry, fellas, I need all of this more than you do.

THE THING THEY CARRIED (self harm)

[ Jinx is already a rather unstable individual. So it might be difficult to notice anything is off about her as she goes about her business.

Those that are particularly perceptive might notice she seems to be talking to herself or yelling at empty air more than before. She also began gnawing away at her fingers, which isn't something she typically does. Her long nails have been chewed down to the quick and she's begun going after the fingers themselves. Tearing away little bits of skin before she seems to realize what she's doing and forces herself to stop only to start at it again soon after. ]

I'm fine! Everything's just peachy keen! [ She yells completely unprompted, whirling around as if turning to someone behind her. ]

WILDCARD

Feel free to throw whatever at her, help her out or get dragged along by her.

thing they carried 💞

[vilent]

(Vi knows that yell.

Would know it in her sleep, has heard it too many times there in nightmares, upon waking, the last remembered thread of a terrified, angry sob. It's not Powder who turns on the ball of her heel to face her, but Vi doesn't wholly recognise this nervous thing either. Legs like stilts, hair just as long. Her sister, and not her sister, but somebody that she loves.)

You sure about that?

(Her fingers are bitten at the edges, the skin red and irritated. They match Vi's tender knuckles; family resemblance.)

Izutsumi | Delicious in Dungeon

[nastycat]

Arrival (CW:animal on animal violence, technical nudity??)
[Maybe it was the loud shrieking hisses, the barking and whining that caught your attention. Something had definitely caught the dogs' attention. Making them cluster around, some cautiously padding along. Surrounding a ...cat person. A very disgruntled cat person, whose clothes had been discarded, their fur plastered in wet clumps. Hackles raised and teeth barred at the hounds.

...Or maybe it was the whimpering dog bowling into you. Poor thing had gotten too close to the grumpy cat and earned a scratch to the muzzle for their efforts.]

Worst tentmate award goes to...
[The less said about Izutsumi's table manners, the better. She spilled soup by attacking it with a spoon, she licked the bowl, she tried to steal from others.

And her clothes... She'd just dumped them all over the tent. They were too wet to wear so she'd steal the blankets to nestle up in. A menace...]

Time to self yeet (CW:tentacle monsters and their possible gore)
[She wasn't afraid of most things. Monsters she could fight, her claws and teeth were sharp and she was quicker than a human. It was why traveling with those weirdos through the dungeon was so tedious. They had to constantly stop, set up camp, cook, wash clothes, talk... What a waste of time.

There was too many people at the tents so once she'd dried off and dressed she headed out. Time to look for more food on these boats.

...Except something wasn't right. The corpses didn't get much of a reaction, she'd seen that before. But then a smell caught her nose, her ears flicking back. Her shoulders hunched, head snapping around, ears giving another flick and- NOPE. NOPE, just going to drop to all fours and run right out of that boat, jumping off the deck and landing safely in the snow. A red limb reaching out of the hatch she'd lept from.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to message me if you want to try anything else. I'm voicetesting two characters here and still unsure.]

arrival

[sideeffect]

[ cat person, meet humanish bear.

riz often scouts the beaches, both for items that may have washed up for his use, as well as other animals from his world. this individual isn't quite what he'd had in mind, but their features still catch his attention - the baying of hounds, too. ]

[ the dogs seem somewhat spooked by his appearance too, with riz having drawn himself to his full height and allowing his claws to be seen. while he keeps his distance for now, he does approach cat person; his body language demonstrates that he's undeterred by the canines, unflinching as one bowls into his legs. ]

Hey. Leave the cat [(... look, he's doing his best.) ] alone.

Rose | The Vampire Diaries | Darkblood

[justexisting]

(i) Ａｒｒｉｖａｌ

(a) CW: for nudity

[ The last thing Rose remembers is watching people from The Other Side, living out their lives. She could see people that she knew and others that she didn't, but at least the pain was gone. Her death had been swift but the suffering beforehand was long and drawn out until Damon had put Rose out of her misery.

When she comes to, Rose finds herself face down on a long stretch of ice and without a stitch of clothing on. Thankfully, she doesn't feel the cold like a human would, but she didn’t appreciate not knowing where the hell she was. The only saving grace was that it was night time - no burning in the sun for her.

Carefully, she gets to her feet and tries to zip off the ice, but her speed isn't quite what it should be. Weird. But Rose manages to successfully move away from the ice onto solid ground without any problems. There were other people around her - definitely human. She could hear their heartbeats, some slower than others and she put it down to how cold it was. Perhaps she should try to blend in and not alert anyone to her non-human status.

So Rose pretends to shiver, wrapping her arms tightly around her body as she searches for any signs that will indicate where she was. The nudity doesn't bother her too much, but if she happens to find clothes, then she’ll gladly take them. ]


(b) Boardwalk

[ Eventually, Rose arrives on the boardwalk and notices the tents dotted along it, slipping into the closest one to find a blanket, a mattress and...another person. She pauses, giving them an apologetic look. ]

Sorry, is this one taken?

[ Thankfully, someone was very kind to hand Rose the bag she forgot to claim for herself so she's dressed in a robe and feels much better for it. The only thing she is concerned about is needing to feed, but she's managed to curb her craving for the time being. Maybe she could hunt for a small animal later. ]

---

(ii) Ｔｈｅ Ｔｈｉｎｇｓ Ｔｈｅｙ Ｃａｒｒｉｅｄ

[ The rotten smell attacks her senses before Rose can determine what the root of it was. She thinks she can smell blood too, but it isn’t human. That she does know for certain. Rose turns around sharply at the sound of screaming to witness another person getting torn to pieces by tentacles, her mouth dropping open in shock.

She doesn't wait around long to allow any of those arms to tear into her so Rose breaks into a run in the opposite direction, moving as fast as she can without using her vampiric speed - it still wasn't at its peak and Rose doesn't want to over exert herself.

Whatever amount of blood was left from the poor victim still lingers in the air and she has to stop herself from slipping into her other face, the one that looked more monstrous and would give her true nature away. It's difficult, especially when she knows she will have to eventually find some blood to satisfy her hunger. ]

---

Wildcard!

[Feel free to drop a prompt of your own or contact me via PM or discord #icklepeep#1124 and we can discuss :D]

1b

[moldyolddad]

[She might find she has company in the form of a blond, average-looking man, rummaging in a Bag and pulling out a grey-blue hooded sweatshirt, which he proceeds to pull it on over his head and over the long-sleeved thermal tee shirt he already has on. He pokes his head through the neck hole and blinks at her.]

Oh, ah, no, I just got in here to get warm. Don't think the long-robed welcoming committee is exactly assigning 'em anyway, so, ah, by all means.

Ryne | FFXIV | Vileblood

[minifilia]

I. Arrival

(( CW: FFXIV ShB (up to 5.2) spoilers, Near drowning (under ice), borderline hypothermia ))

A. [ Ryne awakens with a start under the dark, icy waters. As anyone else arriving here, she isn't ready for it, and when she tries to take in a breath, she accidentally takes water in. The ice water filling her lungs snaps her out of it, and the survival tactics Thancred drilled into her kick in.

It only takes her moments to figure out where up is, and she quickly grabs the blades she always has with her. She manages to stab through the ice and create an escape for herself.

She emerges from the water, coughing and gasping loudly. She tries to scramble to the edge of the broken ice, but her body is already so heavy from the cold. ]

H-Help! I-I need h-help!

B. [ Even out of the icy waters, Ryne isn't out of trouble yet. She's hardly dressed for the weather, and even with the help of others, she's struggling to warm up. She's covered head to toe and many of the dogs curl up next to her by the fire that's been built by the rescuers, but no matter how hard she tries, the hume can't stop shivering. It's like the coldness has infected her down to her bones.

Normally ice is an element she does well with since it is the closest related to light, but even she has her limits with this sort of thing. ]

L-Lady Sh-Shiva... pl-please w-watch over m-me....

II. Frozen Relic

(( CW: FFXIV ShB (up to 5.4) spoilers ))

[ Eventually Ryne does manage to pull herself together and properly warm up, and she volunteers to join in the searching of the ships. There's something beautiful but haunted about them, but she tries hard not to focus on that. Instead she does her best to be helpful on this mission.

She manages to do so when she finds a ship filled with crates of food much to her relief. But as she starts to dig into them, something she finds hits her harder than she's ready for.

In one, she finds tins of coffee biscuits. To anyone else, this is mostly a fun treat that could help with supplies. But to Ryne... well, she holds the tin close to her chest as she tries to fight back tears. ]

Gaia... I pray you're safe...

III. Things They Carry

(( CW: Violence, aura reading, parasite/possession, possible character death (discussion needed first) ))

[ The night goes on, but things start to go for the worse. Unaware of her new vileblood, Ryne isn't aware of the parasites at first. But it isn't long until she realizes things are starting to go wrong. She doesn't see the creature itself, but looking at a possessed individual is a dead giveaway for her. She can see the disturbance in them thanks to her natural abilities; although she doesn't quite know what to do at first.

She ends up following them silently to keep an eye on them. It's only when they go after another sleeper that Ryne finally intervenes. She manages to push the sleeper under attack out of the way just in time and puts herself between them and the possessed sleeper with her blades out. She narrows her eyes toward the possessed being. ]

What are you doing!? Stop this! [ She'll take a careful step forward, speaking more softly. ] Something is terribly wrong with your Aether... I can help you, but you have to let me!

IV. Wildcard

(( None of these working for you? Feeling free to DM me or contact me at sekoshi and we can plot something! ))

II

[killed]

[ Midori's made an effort not to bother people overmuch while they were working through things, instead searching for anything of value that he might take and otherwise aiding those who expressed need of it; however, the sight of a young girl on the verge of tears out of the corner of his eye is more than enough to make him reverse course. Midori watches for a moment, considering, before approaching. ]

Miss...? Are you alright?

[ The concern is there on his face as much as it is in his voice. ]

Lahabrea | FFXIV | Coldblood

[grandtheftperson]

[Content warning for ... AAR on? Is it too long ago to be worried about spoilers?]

Arrival/Frozen Relics

He is 'lucky', in an absurd sliding-scale-of-misery sort of sense, to not be one of the ones trapped under ice. No, the patch a small squid bobs to the surface at is pleasantly clear of ice, possibly the wake of someone ELSE having broke free, and a few minutes later there's yet another sputtering, astonished Sleeper clawing his way towards shore or ... well, anything solid will do frankly.

It's still a terrible shock in jumbled, confused memories, this isn't where he was supposed to be and wasn't where he recalled being last, except for all those dim, fading memories of being somewhere darker, deeper and considerably stranger than the surface of some unfamiliar ocean. It would be effortless surely to simply teleport somewhere more familiar, but there's voices in the dark and splashing of others and he has a role to perform--

But Lahabrea doesn't reach shore first. He reaches one of the ships foundered in the ice, dragging his soaking wet borrowed body out of the sea and onto the comparatively sturdy pack ice and wobbling uncertainly to his feet. He knows damn well this mortal shell wasn't made for the cold, and yet it didn't... feel cold at all.

Strange.

"I've certainly gotten a bit lost before," he tells the unfeeling hull of the ship sourly, "But this is getting ridiculous. Well. Let's see if there's any clothes onboard you before I freeze off something I might need later."

Thank Zodiark it's still dark.

Frozen Relics, But More

If NOTHING ELSE, at least he has dry pants and a shirt now! Still no shoes he found worth the name, and no actual answers, but he can sense the flickering presence of other life around, in the water and onshore, so the act must reluctantly continue ... just in case.

He didn't spend all this time pretending to be this imbicile only to be revealed thanks to an annoying spate of sogginess and cold! "Hello~? Is anyone still alive?" There's plenty of corpses, and Lahabrea, still alarmingly unbothered by the cold (something he's going to have to investigate when he has leisure time and knows nobody's around to observe), investigates each on on the ship one by one. They're old, long past dead and little more than skin and bones and tattered cloth, giving little away of what came before.

There won't be an answer from any of these.

Although there's weapons and things to be found onboard, Lahabrea hasn't bothered to fetch any, instead studying the twisted remains of one person still slumped in their seat, chest and ribs torn open, mutilated face gaping.

Another person turning up on the ship earns them a glance, brief, assessing, then back to the corpse. "I don't think we should stay aboard long, friend." Everyone's a friend to 'Thancred', except all the people who aren't. "I haven't found anything that could have made a hole like that yet."

[OOC: Wildcard option! Want to do something else? Send me a PM, let's play!]

Relics (def let me know if this doesn't work LOL)

[minifilia]

Ryne's already been searching through one of the ships, trying to figure out what could've happened to this poor crew. She's pretty deep in thought over it-even if it it is deeply unpleasant-when her attention snaps in the direction of a familiar voice. She turns so fast that she almost slips on the ice, but she manages to catch herself before she falls. She rises to her full height again with wide eyes, taking in the man before her.

"...Thancred?" She asks quietly. It's his face and his voice that are all too familiar to her. But it's his aura that throws her off. But his lack of light says more than anything, and Ryne's suddenly on edge.

She shakes her head slowly, taking a step back. "No... you're not?"

figaro garcia / promise of wizard / warmblood

[extinctive]

arrival

[ the first thing that popped into figaro's mind is ah, i'm drowning again.

this isn't the first time he's found himself in the frigid waters, hand extending towards the gigantic moon above. but instead of the great calamity, all he could see is darkness and a layer of ice that was blocking his way. luckily he was able to find a thin patch that he can break through, and it's a miracle that he can even punch through the ice with how sluggish his body feels, squidlike form notwitstanding.

but it's fine, he supposes. he's endured worse in the north, so collapsing onto the ice in only his undergarments is no problem at all... except not really, because he'd still be prone to hypothermia. if anyone's kind enough to roll him towards the shore, it'd be greatly appreciated.

alternatively, once he's rescued and set aside to warm up by the fires, he's been offered a hot bowl of soup to which he wastes no time in gobbling it up, but not before asking brightly for someone who almost drowned at sea (again): ]

Don't suppose they have some alcohol around here? It'd help in warming some of us up, you know.

[ ah.

guess that drunkard part of himself hasn't changed. ]

frozen relics

[ it's absolutely freezing inside the abandoned-looking boats, but figaro pays it no mind as usual. really, you'd think that he's a coldblood with how unbothered he is with the extreme temperatures around these parts, but being a warmblood does help in staving away nipping fingers and toes.

as a doctor with a sharp eye and instinct, figaro can tell right away if anyone's shivering slightly, and he wastes no time in swooping up beside them. ]

Cold? I've got just the thing. If you could just hold out your hand for me...

[ because he's going to chant a single magic word, and a handful of star-shaped sugar crystals will be dumped into the other party's awaiting palms. it's fine, they're not poisoned -- this good doctor will even pop a couple of them into his mouth. ]

wildcard

[ if you want something more personalized, we can hash something out by hitting me up via PM! ]

frozen relics

[traversal]

[ lumine can't really say that she's cold, but she can't deny that even with her coat and scarf, it's starting to become uncomfortable. still, she heard that the boats contain certain items from different worlds and cargo like food, so she's decided to take it upon herself and check them out.

she blinks when she receives a handful of sugar in her hand, a little surprised by this little gift of sorts? that's supposed to do something about the cold, apparently. ]

Are these ... candies?

[ is it because she looks young? so he gives her ... sweets? she doesn't eat them just yet, even if he has pretty much demonstrated that they're safe. who knows if they're poisoned and he's just immune to its effects, right? ]