July Test Drive Meme!

[reddosmod]

JULY 2022 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: Colorful paper lanterns shaped like jellyfish lit up and hovering in the air. ]
[Image Two: A person with long hair wearing a crown dedicated with shells and rocks. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A GIF of waves breaking roughly out in the middle of the ocean. ]
[Image Two: Strong waves crashing into a lighthouse and rocks. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A large Ningen (a sea creature that is half human, half monster, and has no face except for a large slit for a mouth) towering over a deep sea diver. ]
[Image Two: A person standing out on the rocks with their arms out stretched as the tentacles of a large sea monster wave in the air above the ocean. ]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

STANDARD ARRIVAL

WHEN: August
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

---

You're one of the lucky ones. Your journey is smooth sailing and you wind up exactly where you're supposed to: on the Farther Shores. You grow out of your squid body without a hitch, either with the help of another Sleeper or one of the Wakers, and you get to discover this new world. All new Sleepers might take some time to find their bearings. It might be tricky to remember how to use your body parts the way you're supposed to. You might stumble around the beach or forget how to talk - but don't worry! It'll come back to you sooner or later.

Hopefully, you've found something to wear, either in your Welcoming Bag or otherwise, and can start familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. Maybe you help some other squids out on the beach. Waking up sucks! You feel for the little guys. And hey, maybe you're hoping one of those squids is a good friend...Stranger things have happened.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
This month has an entire festival dedicated to Mariana. The people of Trench seem to be quite enamoured with her, despite her often cruel and unpredictable behaviors. The festival has gone all out with decorations. The boardwalk will be lined with lanterns in the shape of various sea creatures, such as jellyfish, dolphins, seahorses, and (of course) squids! These lanterns will be lit every night throughout the month and will burn through the night. They are bright beacons to a month that is otherwise becoming more and more gray and chilly as time passes.

The people of Trench are also decked out for the occasion. Blues and greens are the popular color choices for outfits, and many people will even decorate their hair with pieces from the ocean. Whether it's with full headpieces that are worthy enough for mermaids or just something as simple as weaving shells into a braid, everyone seems to have something on them that ties them to the sea. There are stalls set up to help newcomers (or oldies who just want to have some fun) decorate their hair as well and face paint for those who want to go the extra mile.

The festival comes with all sorts of celebrations that can be partaken in at absolutely no cost. There are food vendors, though they seem to be short on seafood this month. Likely it's due to the rough seas with waves so treacherous that not even the most skilled of sailors seems to be able to get out into them. They'll remark on how difficult is must have been to swim to shore in those awful waves. So instead of fish and shrimp, there are other sea-dedicated dishes: seaweed salad, noodle dishes made with seaweed broth, caramelized chicken in a fish and ginger sauce, etc. There are also ocean themed desserts, such as cupcakes with blue frosting shaped to look like a great wave. There are games such as dunk tanks, dart balloons, ring tosses, and other typical carnival entertainment. If you can think of it, it's probably there. At the end of the night, there's often a fireworks display over the rolling waves.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

rough seas and high winds

WHEN: Last Week of July, First Week of AugustT
WHERE: Beach and Nearby Oceans
CONTENT WARNINGS: Threat of drowning, severe weather phenomena, Environmental hazards, possible death

---

For some reason, Mariana is particularly wrathful even as the month begins. Even leaking into the end of the month of July, the sea begins to foam and rage in ways that are almost impossible to imagine. As you stare out int the beachheads, you may see vast waves and surf that would daunt the most professional of surfers. Water crashes into each other in colossal spouts. Waterspouts can be seen as storms occasionally buffet the coastline and just out into the ocean itself. However, the one thing about this chaotic energy is that it is just that, chaotic. One moment the sea may be calm, and the next it is a roiling, seething force out to destroy everyone.

This is, naturally, dangerous for those who are just hapless squids trying to reach shore. They may find themselves inexorably being flung towards sharp rocks and shoals, threatened with being dashed upon the stone near to the coast, or they may find themselves constantly swirling in eddies and whirlpools to the point of near exhaustion. However, they are not the only ones so threatened. Even those on the coast are in near constant danger of being washed right back out to see by an unexpected wave and sudden rip-tide. There are wood planks and other detritus to grab hold of, but it is very much a battle for one's life out there!

The sea's rage, the locals say, is because Mariana is particularly incensed over something that occurred. They do not know what exactly, but many have said that sleepers have felt a particular brunt of this ire lately. For now, it is a game of survival and a constant battle to bring people in safely.

Notes:
-Any natural weather occurrence is possible in the first week of August and last of July. Seemingly impossible combinations may occur (A waterspout in the middle of the eye of a hurricane, almost anything.
-These threats will be upon anyone who is not far enough inland to enjoy the festivities. The beach is not truly safe and sleepers are hustled inland quickly.
-Death is possible, though sleepers who die in the ocean find themselves returning very quickly as squids for some reason, within 24 hours, only to be threatened again before they eventually find shore.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

of monsters in the water

WHEN: Throughout August
WHERE: The coast and waterways
CONTENT WARNINGS: Monster Horror, Possibly Getting Eaten, Threat of bodily harm, Unnatural Physiology, Existential Dread

---

Something has been dredged up from the deep by the storms that rage. It is said that Mariana not only presides over the oceans, but also the most powerful monsters that dwell within the deep. Some of these, it is believed, may be the remains of Pthumerians whose minds and lives were lost during the hard times before, or the spawn of their mating with things other than humans. Whether these rumors are true, eldritch things have begun to emerge from the depths and darkness, things best left unseen.

Throughout the month of August, it is possible to encounter creatures that can only be described as monsters emerging from the water. With every passing storm, another emerges. Some are as large as small kaiju, while others are closer to human size, and each shares very little in common with the others, save for two particular details. The first of these is that they are all aquatic in nature and bear at least a passing similarity to sea monsters of ancient legend or particularly large and dangerous aquatic animals. Giant cuttlefish, Megalodons, Plesiosaurs, Octopi, Sea Cucumbers, Whales, or any of a number of other sea creatures appear to be their basis. The other similarity, however, is that all are hideously and grotesquely deformed. Tentacles, second rows of teeth, great clawed hands and feet enabling them to walk on dry ground, a thousand eyes all over the hump of a hunchback whale all shooting laser beams in the full moon, almost anything seems to be possible, though the changes are all chtonically horrendous in nature.

These creatures are violent, dangerous, and horrifying to behold. Just looking at them jars the mind and threatens to damage one's psyche while they try to understand what they are seeing. Bones are in seemingly impossible angles, bodies moving in ways that they shouldn't. Just looking at them can cause nausea, vertigo or mental breaks, though the danger does not stop there. They are agents of chaos, seeking to destroy mind or body, on a rampage whenever they reach ground, though they do not delve far into Trench beyond the waterways and beach, almost as if they are prevented by something. When one strays too close, an ominous light glows from the tops of the tallest spires in the city and they are inevitably repelled, but until they are killed or sent back to the deep from whence they came, they remain a threat outside of the city.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

Questions

[reddosmod]

[mehanizovati]

for the sea monsters, do they bleed and if so would their blood be like sleeper blood? different?

Re: Questions

[theflyingone]

If someone were to climb or fly their Omen up to the tops of the weirdly glowing spires, would they find anything? Discernible light source like a moon orb? Danger?

Ushiromiya Battler | Umineko no Naku Koro ni

[chessboardturn]

I. Kid, Squid

Washing up on a beach is not exactly where Battle expected to be - although it definitely twinges something unpleasant in the back of his head for some reason. The call of the gulls - that's familiar, almost reassuring. The feeling of sand under his fingers and the cool wash of seawater against his legs. It takes him a moment to come back to himself. To figure out where he is as he sways to his feet unsteadily. He stumbles - his legs don't seem to work quite right - and he has to try and get his eyes to focus on whoever is nearby.

"Did we - are we still on the island?"

He should be more sure than that, but he's been in some weird places over the last... what? Few days? Few eternities? Hard to pin down that one. He hasn't noticed he's naked (yet). But he will. Give him some time.

II. Boardwalk

Once he's dressed and a little more acclimated, he's actually pleasantly surprised by the whole place, even if his mind rebels at the idea that he's been transported to another world. But if he's been playing a crazy game and become a game master of a board himself... then really it's not that farfetched he's washed up in some other place, is it? He badly wants to get back to what he was doing, but until he can figure a way out he may as well enjoy the local festivities.

So he can be found chowing down on the food - particularly the noodles or the chicken - and distracting himself with the carnival games. It reminds him of some of what they did back home, honestly. A pleasant distraction to keep himself moving - even if his mind is still racing and thinking about everything else he should be doing.

Just keep moving, Battler. Just keep moving.

III. Kaiju

"No way. There's no way this is happening-" Battler is mostly saying that to himself, but maybe it's also to try and reassure everyone around him. Even if it is happening. Even if there absolutely is a giant laser squid trying to clamber its way onto the shore, destroying everything in its path. He's not that close to them - yet - but he is staring, trying to get his mind to comprehend what it is that's out there.

"What the Hell are we supposed to do against that?" He asks, again, to no one in particular.

He almost misses all of Beato's furniture at this point.

IV. Wildcard

Find him somewhere else or ping me! Happy to set something up.

II

[manyone]

The boardwalk is at least a pleasant distraction as the month turns and things finally seem to calm down from the orgy of violence and obsession that seemed to grip the Sleepers. Her first month here has been eventful, to say the least, and Beatrice is still trying to find a way to settle into her new existence here. At the very least, she appreciates being able to be out of her own limited arena.

She's in the midst of munching down on a sweet treat (cupcakes!!!) and has a bit of blue frosting stuck to her nose when she spots a familiar form winding up for a ring toss. At first, she thinks it can't be real--he can't possibly be here. Her heart squeezes in her chest and she urges forwards past some of the crowd.

Yes.

Yes, that's Battler Ushiromiya.

Just as he's getting ready to throw, she appears at his elbow, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I think you're worse at this than you are at our game, Battler."

Hotaru Tomoe | Sailor Moon | Paleblood

[melodyofsilence]

(Arrival)

[ Drifting aimlessly, feeling drawn, crawling out of the sea onto the sandy shores, her body shifting and changing - none of this is unfamiliar to the girl that was once a squid... that was once a star. Reaching the soft sand was no easy feat, but she'd been determined to not crash among the rocks. Her arms and legs are as weak as a newborn's, yet she struggles to sit upright and fix her gaze upon the water that she's traversed in order to get here. To be with her.

Reforming a physical form is never easy, never simple. Yet she's managed it once again. Her dark gaze is distant. A child of approximately ten or eleven sitting upon the sand while pulling the robe from her back to cover her. ]

"Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise."

[ The words are quiet but she doesn't fumble over them, reciting them perfectly. ]

(Boardwalk)

[ Hotaru is drawn to the lights on the boardwalk, more them than the festival itself. Walking along to admire them as they glow softly in the various shapes of the sea creatures. However, she will be seen getting some shells braided into her hair and having part of her face painted with dolphins.

There's food to partake in and games to play, all of which this child can be found doing. She has scary good aim when it comes to anything involving throwing. Hotaru is just here to have fun and possibly drag others into it. ]

Here, try this!

(Of Monsters in the Water)

[ This small child can be seen near the beach when the eldritch monsters attempt to come ashore. One would think she would be afraid of these creatures, but she watches with nothing more than curiosity - not even with the thought to move out there to find some way to help. There is only one group of individuals who could get her to go help potentially fight off the creatures.

She links both hands behind her back, shifting her gaze away from the monster threatening to tear apart her mind and looks over the water. ]

How long will her anger last? What will ease it?

(Wildcard)

[ OOC: Hit me up for anything! ]

arrival

[dohaeris]

[sansa smiles serenely, carrying a basket of robes and trousers. lady, nearing her full growth, remains alert to the shore. they're both very glad of the change in weather, lady's padded collar matched to sansa's grey linen dress embroidered with wolves and ravens, an elaborate chatelaine clipped to her wide leather belt.]

It's a beautiful poem.

[she pauses, waits for the girl to turn around.]

I'm afraid it's not safe at the shore, right now. The tide is very unpredictable. If you'd come with me to the boardwalk, I could tailor your robes to fit.

Need | Heralds of Valdemar

[hasapoint]

[This perfectly ordinary squid - is it more confused than usual? how could anyone tell? - has turned into a sheathed sword of about the same size and probably weighing less, not much more than three pounds. Not a very large sword and not hugely fancy, with crescents for crossguards and a plain, polished river stone pommel. Someone sensitive to magic, psychic stuff, spirits, orrr angels can tell 1) it's a magic sword and 2) haunted by an ancient psychic mage spirit with 3) some general angelic associations.

Maybe the weather is calm and maybe you just wanna get away from the beach before the ocean gets you! Either way when you touch the sword there's a sense like someone touching you on the back of the head. Looking at you. Looking, if you're sensitive to psychic stuff, at a whole lot of other people too.

Need isn't awake enough to talk yet, but she's stirring.]

Bow Lion | See

[chetchet]

rough seas

By virtue of experience (or perhaps a considerable lack thereof), Bow Lion is not the strongest swimmer. Instinct tells her to fight the current that seeks to hold and command her, but she feels strange and clumsy inside her own body. The harder she works against the natural order of what's happening, the more she feels as if she's being torn from herself by the crashing waves and the indiscernible warmth of sunlight from somewhere very far above her. Or perhaps it's below.

It's the exhaustion that makes her give in to what she assumes is a certain fate, but only when she gives in that she realizes her body seems to know what to do. The crashing waves carry Bow Lion as far as a small tide pool just shy of the shore. It's there that she emerges on her hands and knees, coughing water from deep in her lungs.

the boardwalk

All the commotion reminds her of a festival. She's only attended one, but Bow Lion is instantly put in mind of the vendors bartering their various goods and strangers dancing by the bonfire and becoming much more. It makes her giddy, but also wary. Their games are unfamiliar to her and their shouts leave too much room to question their intentions. And the smells? The harmony of brine and spice and thick, sticky-sweet honey gets all up her nose and disorients her senses.

games
Some of the vendors are a little more aggressive than others, and it's not long until Bow Lion finds herself yanked towards one of the games. It's a simple whack-a-mole style contraption, but when the vendor realizes she can't see he starts to snicker at her. If she notices his derision she doesn't let on, but Bow Lion turns to the person nearest her and takes them by the shoulder before asking, "How does this work?"

fireworks
When nighttime draws near she knows she ought to be searching for shelter, but the young woman prefers instead to keep in the close company of others who are around. The sound of the fireworks exploding is like nothing she's ever heard before, and she can't see the way they light up the night sky. It all feels more like an attack than entertainment, so she grabs her sharpened staff and wields it like she's ready to fight the sky itself. "What is it? Where do they come from?

of monsters

As a kill dancer, Bow Lion is used to being out in front when conflict arises and enemies are close. She doesn't hesitate and she doesn't show any fear. When she hears the screams of those on the beach, she reaches into her welcoming bag and mercifully finds her kill ropes.

The others in her clan know to keep a proper distance when a kill dancer is leading the pack. The long rope she wields over her head like a lasso has thick, spiky metal barbs attached to the end. It's an effective weapon against anything fleshy that gets in its path.

Anything fleshy.

Unfortunately, it's not much good against laser beams or other powerful projectiles.

wildcard

Have an idea for a starter you'd prefer? I'm up for it all! Just a note that Bow Lion is canonically blind and comes from a futuristic time when society has collapsed and virtually all surviving humans are also blind.

rough seas!! (if you prefer prose i can match!)

[robussy]

[ 2B has been earlier struck by a world breaking realization that would bend and repair her psych once fissured: the possibility of there being live humans hurled onto these angry shores just as she had. her first meeting was strange and posed even more question than answer with only word of mouth to go by. she is no recon unit with innate, burning curiosity, but she can feel the questions gnawing behind her head. more questions. a desire for truth.

she wants to see. she wants answers. if she has anything left of herself from the world before trench, she wants her purpose returned to her.

it doesn’t take long to return to the feisty tides in search of it. of anyone, anything. a human from afar would say she was nude; a closer look would show that her chassis is missing finer organic detail. she is an android, modeled after a human woman. she sounds and feels like such when she poses herself against the riled waves to catch the human’s frame by the arms, and hoists her up with feather light ease. ]

I’ve got you.

[ all that was left to do was pull her away from the danger, and closer to the frigid ocean air with surprising carefulness. she can already see, holding the frame against her chest, that something deep within the mechanisms of her circulation jumps. flutters. pod scans who she holds, sputtering and drenched. 100% organic.

she is holding something human that has so long ago left her. ]

Maria Thorpe | Assassin's Creed

[givetheslip]

standard;

[The sea. They'd been in the sea — no, not in it, on it, aboard the vessel bound for Acre Port and whatever lay beyond it in potential wanderings. It all comes back a bit at a time, pieces of memory as simple as move your foot to walk and as complex as I don't know where I'll be a week from now and it's frightening and exhilirating at the same time—

Maria registers that there are others nearby, people who have washed up on the shore naked, and has just enough time to realize she is too before someone wraps a robe around her shoulders. If she's a victim of a shipwreck, it's the strangest one ever — they typically don't involve immediate care from those on the shore, and she's not nearly as alarmed about it as she thinks she should be.

Maybe it's the shock.

Whoever gave her the robe and pressed a bag into her hands looks up and moves to help someone else, and that's fine. Whatever she's gone through in the last...however long it's been, Maria can handle herself now, probably. She tucks the robe tighter around herself and steps closer to the edge of the water, staring out into the distant waters until she starts to feel more like herself, only to glance to the side and realize she's no longer alone.]

I don't suppose you've seen a sword wash up?

[Forget getting dressed just yet. Getting armed is more important.]

boardwalk;

[The boardwalk festival is absolutely bizarre to Maria. Not because of the fun, of course she knows what it is to have fun. ...she is familiar with the concept of fun. But between blood, battle and the constant stress of proving she deserved a position few in the Knights Templar believed she was worthy of, it's been a long time since she's actually experienced anything close to fun-for-fun's sake.

She explores for a while, at first holding back from real interaction with any of the crowds. Eventually, she allows herself to be cajoled into sitting at one of the stalls, where cheerful youngsters insist on adorning her braid with shells. To anyone else who might happen to be doing the same, she feels exactly as awkward she she looks.]

I look ridiculous, don't I?

[Eventually she gets comfortable enough to try some of the games. Anyone wandering through this area of the festival is likely to find a small crowd around her as she absolutely smashes pyramids of plastic pins with a ball, over and over — she's got quite the arm on her — until the booth operator accuses her of cheating somehow and refuses to allow her to play again.

A verbal ruckus ensues.]

what's a kaiju;

[When Maria sees the first of the beasts, she feels as though her mind is trying to turn itself inside out. Her stomach wants to do the same and nearly does, but she hadn't vomited the first time she'd disemboweled a Saracen and she's not about to start now.

As always, her instinct is to cover her discomfort with action. Her hand goes to the hilt of her sword and tightens there.

She may be about to take very ill-advised action.]

wild card;

[Throw something at me I will roll with literally anything! Happy to match with prose or brackets.]

What's a kaiju

[distant_one]

[D has come to the beach to watch the massive creature approach. Or rather to not watch it. As soon as he recognizes that looking at it is disorienting he tilts his head down until the brim of his hat blocks it from direct view. It's still in the water and D is not going to venture that close to the beach so he waits patiently. He hasn't even drawn his sword and doesn't look at all ready for a fight.

He can still see the woman nearby staring at it and reaching for her sword, she's in his peripheral vision and he can look over at her without catching sight of the thing.]

It'll be easier to fight if you don't look at it.

Mercymorn the First | The Locked Tomb | Vileblood

[acidjail]

i. rough seas and high winds
[cw: blood, gore, body horror, transformation, nudity]

Far down the shore from the boardwalk, wind-whipped waves shatter on outcropping of razor-edged, porous grey rock. They seethe with wreckage swept back to shore by the ocean, as if she seeks to vomit back the refuse of the land. Old fishing nets, splintered planks, the tattered remnants of cargo - these and more are tossed on the rocks and dragged over cutting stone.

Inside one such wave, a flash of pink shines in the low light of the predawn horizon, tumbled by the waters. It could be any bright bit of flotsam, except that as the crest of the wave falls, two fleshy, barbed tentacles shoot out of the water, lengthening impossibly to hook onto a ledge just before the wave collapses. When it draws back out to sea, it leaves behind a swollen amniotic sac that clings to the pitted rock beneath it with a dozen more anchoring tentacles as something squirms violently within it.

As soon as this canker is expelled, the violence of the sea begins to subside, though the wind still races across the shore.

The sac convulses, the shape inside it twisting, and then it ruptures in a fountain of gore that punches up towards the sky and falls in a green hued rain of Vileblood, drenching anything unfortunate enough to be nearby, especially the sodden human body that sits bolt upright in the deflating blister. It stares out wildly towards the first gentle blush of a new morning on an old world.

The Saint of Joy fills her trembling new lungs, and screams.

ii. of monsters in the water
[cw: blood, gore, body horror, psychological horror, mutation, monsters, vomiting]

Somewhere on the shore, you are beset by a monster.

Perhaps it is a shelled titan whose carapace spews stinging tendrils as it trundles up the sand, or a winding eyeless eel with six tiered jaws that lunges for you, or an undulating translucent sea slug that vomits black acid at anything within reach of its slow moving autonomous gut. It could be anything. It might well be anything, the next time you look at it.

It doesn't matter what it is, or how it towers. As it menaces its chosen prey, a torrent of pinkish, frothing liquid blasts into it from the side, reeking of bile and rotten flowers. Whatever flesh it touches scalds, and the slight, small figure behind the point this noxious stream flows from laughs in a glass cutting mad peel, her green-stained hair tacked wetly around her too-wide eyes.

Alas: your salvation is at hand.

iii. wildcard
[Contact me at terriblepurpose if you'd like to discuss another starter. Permissions for this character can be found here.]

i

[loopsbian]

[ for the most part, satoko has grown used to this place's horrors, completely inured to this world of blood and beasts and sickness. this, however? this is something completely different. new, intriguing, disgusting on a level satoko has never seen in a life filled with death.

of course she watches. this is the first truly entertaining thing that's happened in months - entertaining to her tastes, at least. she'd die before she missed something as novel as this.

when the woman hatches out, satoko gives her a moment to recuperate - and then startles, just for a moment, at her lemongrab ghastly wailing. still, she recovers admirably quickly, shaking her head and taking a step back to ignore the brunt of the vileblood explosion. (she'd rather not have to clean herself off right now, after all - and blood can be such a pain to get out of clothing.) ]

Goodness, that's a dramatic entrance! [ she honestly sounds mildly impressed more than anything. ] Well, go on, then. Get it out of your system.

2B | nier: automata | paleblood

[robussy]

█ ▋ ▍🆁🅾🆄🅶🅷 🆂🅴🅰🆂

s̸̡̜͓̯͙̤̜̲͓͛̇̉̎͌̇̏́̍̐̊͝͝͠ h̷̘̠̓

LOADING . . .

[ 2b hacks up fluid from within her chest cavity, thick and viscous, surrounded now by strings of slime and coagulated paleblood that constructed the organic sac she burst from. her memory was impaired to remember the before— was it the end? a virus, a sword, through her abdomen, or was it aimless wandering? had it been both, at once? her eyes sting, the roar of waves scream in her ears and forcefully shove her back with a crash into the sand. the wave doesn't pull her back in; her bare chassis anchors into the farthest shore and allows the retreating, angry tide to slip around her. her breathing is hard, coarse. her vitals are still erratic, and her consciousness, confused.

—nit activated. Alert: Cognitive and motor functions impaired. that was pod— 2b can hear her thoughts speaking up, but her lips don't quite follow when she finds the hovering droid picking at the pieces still clinging to her. what the pod is met with is an abnormal silence and steadying fingertips touching the metal frame. Proposal: Perform routine maintenance. Remain calm, 2B.

easier said than done. base was destroyed. how was she alive? how was her memory backed up with no trace of infection? how, how, why, how— she grits through the questions. damn questions, damn curiosity that has never been her source of joy (right, she's not supposed to have joy to begin with). her jaw tightens, sets, and 2b pulls herself to the built-in heels that sink in the sand. the rest of her body resembles something human, but not quite. her skin is carbon fiber. the rest is metal.

Life forms detected within a 40 meter radius. Data insufficient. Location unknown. staggering and jerking abnormally into moving with a posture that resembles purpose, 2B takes a combative stance and calls for virtuous treaty. it could be a boar. it could be birds. it could be rogue androids or a damned machine. Combat is not recommended in your current state. Suggestion to investigate pacifically. I will offer tactile support if necessary.

well. here she goes. ]

█ ▋ ▍ 🅽🅴🆃🆆🅾🆁🅺

This is YoRHa unit 2B. Req uͧeͤs͛ ting stat̾̽̓ǘ̓̓s o f re mm a ▋☰inin survivors.

█ eport. Anyone. Over.

█ ▋ ▍ 🆂🆃🅰🅽🅳🅰🆁🅳 🅰🆁🆁🅸🆅🅰🅻

[ and, so it was all true. from lies, to revelation, to a new truth still far beyond 2b's complete comprehension: humans were here, celebrating on the boardwalk with food, games and exuberance. humans were living, breathing and commemorating.

Proposal: 2B should initiate conversation with humans. for the first time in many times, 2b sounds close to exasperated. ]

I don't know where to start, Pod.

[ now dawning simple black robes, 2b does not know what to do with this information, on top of the rest. she's awkwardly misplaced but doesn't seem to be bothered by it. it's not like she wants or needs to fit in— she's not one of them. plenty offer her colorfully whipped cupcakes that she steadily declines. she's speechless. she's still trying to wrap her head around this. while mentally preoccupied, a young child with a gap spacing her two front teeth coos out a delighted pretty whilst looking up at the android and pointing at the mark under her lower lip— and offers her a tossing ring. visibly taken aback and tentatively reaching for the ring, she's . . . yeah, she's confused. ]

. . . What is this? [ Analysis: a ring-shaped or circular object that is used in a human game in which rings are tossed at an upright peg, known as "ring toss". Points are scored by encircling the peg or coming closer to it than other players. It is a means for amusement. she shakes her head, and means no offense, but still curtly says: ] I'm— sorry, I don't play games.

[ the girl looks undoubtedly disappointed, gestures for 2b to stay put— before dragging you into the fray. you! play ring toss with me and the pretty lady! she doesn't know how to play! ]

I'm not—

[ well, she's learning one thing quickly: humans are persistent enough to want combat androids to play ring toss. ]

█ ▋ ▍ 🅾🅵 🅼🅾🅽🆂🆃🅴🆁🆂

[ if there had been one thing 2b was primed for, made for, was battle. settling into the idea of living in trench was too large to process at once— but her duty still remained and was as easily accepted as basic math results. her instinct to protect humanity was hardwired, and she accepts the already long-established role in that her purpose continues. her duty lives on with even greater burden. she will not let extinction happen again.

the monster spawns from the sea were an obvious threat to this charge. things that crawl, slink and slither, things that morph into unidentifiable proportions— things that bite, suck and swallow. a beast of gelatinous bones and teeth that spawned from flat to needle-like rise from the waves and engulfs the senses of those who get within its hunting range. its appendages stretch and roll for limbs, and its maw deforms and unhinges— then gets sliced from possible joints, spewing black, hot fluid. the blade of virtuous treaty glints crimson beneath the blood moon, and yoRHa unit 2B wields it with reliable rigor. ]

Get to safety, now.

standard arrival

[hauntedsavior]

[anna is good with kids. somehow, it's one of the qualities she's learned about herself since merging with the combat android who now makes up most of her body. so when a young girl tugs on her arm and pulls her over to the ring toss, it doesn't take much work at all for her to stagger over. at least her legs are finally working properly again.]

[when she gets there, though, it's impossible to ignore who's waiting for her. she has no words; her eye goes wide. no, this... goddammit, john had said that they're always expecting their pasts to be dug up, but this is unbelievable, this is—she shouldn't be here. she shouldn't have existed anymore, not the way that—oh, come on, anna. you know it's possible. you've known for months. her words catch up with her thoughts after only a moment of standing there in torn jeans and a plain white t-shirt reading "I'M BARELY SURVIVING TRENCH AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS T-SHIRT" in bold black caps. she's liable to drop her ocean-blue cotton candy.]

2B. [she doesn't know what emotion she should be bringing to this. when she'd met her before, in that fleeting replica of retrospec's headquarters, she'd still had both eyes and her body, her heart hadn't transformed yet. does she look enough like A2 now? and is that going to be a good or a bad thing?] As I live and fucking breathe.

vash the stampede | trigun (manga) | vileblood

[underbluesky]

i. high noon at trench ( arrival )

[Vash comes back to himself slowly, reluctantly. There was an uncomplicated peace to being a squid, floating freely without the burdens that plagued him back in Gunsmoke. He wakes up to sand, instead, leagues more familiar. There is a moment where he considers simply remaining where he lays, as though refusing to engage with the world around him would somehow change his circumstances or negate the events that last occurred to him.

Eventually, though, he drags himself up to his feet, aiming to find himself something to cover himself with and some basic shelter. Rem...she'd be disappointed in him if he gave up on everything, even now.

The best laid plans. He spots someone coming and ah, immediately drops himself back down into the sand. You saw nothing. Definitely not a torso literally riddled with scars and missing an arm, or anything. It's fine.]

Ah...you wouldn't happen to have a towel, would you?

ii. rough seas

[There are no oceans in Gunsmoke. The beach is the very first time Vash has seen so much water all in one place; it'd be a stunning sight, if the sea were a bit less...violent, at the moment. He barely has time to take in the wonder of it when he sees another person get swept into the waves, and of course he dashes in after them without the slightest sense of realization that he does not know how to swim.

He could, perhaps, do with a little help. Especially since -- rather than do anything try to keep himself afloat, he's still thrashing and flailing in the direction of the other distressed individual, as though he might be able to save them when he himself is at serious risk of drowning.]

iii. boardwalk

[It's all fun and games. No, seriously, forget all that unpleasantness about the near-drowning, earlier. Vash is living at this festival; he can be found sitting at a bench with plates absolutely filled with sea-themed desserts, demolishing far more of them than a normal person should remotely be capable of. He might be willing to share if you ask, though...?

Or perhaps you find him at one of the games booths, winning a bunch of the prizes -- but apparently not for himself. He seems to be giving them away to a bunch of the local children, but if you look like you're having some trouble, perhaps he'll lend you a hand as well. He's particularly good at the sharpshooter ones, knocking down an entire tower of blocks with only a single shot, regularly hitting the hardest and smallest targets before handing over the spoils to whoever's nearby.

One of the children, however, decides he does not need two giant animals, and hands back one to Vash. Welp. Hope you don't mind a neon pink elephant shoved in your face.]

Ahaha...I don't suppose you would want this?

boardwalk

[melodyofsilence]

[ While she's not a native child, she is still definitely a child that had simply been passing by when suddenly a neon pink elephant stuffed animal is coming her direction. She blinks up at the very tall man on the other side of the toy in surprise. ]

You don't want it?

[ Both hands come out to touch the elephant, curiously. ]

Hudson | Gargoyles | blood type undecided!

[rivernamed]

🌙 I. arrival

[For better or for worse, it's night time when he emerges from being a forsaken squid. It's a concept that he's only able to square away vaguely as some magic happened and he certainly doesn't want to be dealing with that right at the moment.

Anyway, he's dressed, still damp and not thrilled about it, but at least he has himself instead of whatever it was that just happened.]

Bah, what nonsense has happened now? [He grumbles the words to himself as he cautiously leaves the shore, sheathing his sword to his hip. There's the temptation to call out to his clan, but without truly knowing where he is and how he ended up here that could be too dangerous.

So as it is, he's trying to keep out of sight from other people, but that doesn't mean he's going to be successful.]


🌙 II. sea monsters get your sea monsters

[Regardless of wherever he is, there is one thing he cannot abide by, and that is allowing innocents to get harmed. So while trying to get a grasp on where he is and understanding the circumstances is about when he heard about the creatures emerging to land, standing as a very real threat to the people.

Honestly, he doesn't know what he expected, but not quite this.

It's as if magic has twisted up these creatures into something truly heinous, wretched to perceive and clearly dangerous. Fighting monsters is not exactly new, but Hudson is not one to go in arrogantly. It would also be all the easier if the rest of the clan was here. Especially Bronx.

At the thought of the loyal hound, Bronx does seemingly appear out of nowhere at Hudson's side, huffing and whining at the old gargoyle.]

Bronx! And where have you been, hm?

[Despite his words, Hudson is relieved, grinning and scratching the beast under the chin.] What timing you have, boy. Too much going on for me to follow, but I know enough what needs to be done: these monsters need be slain before anyone is harmed. Between the two of us, we might manage, eh?

[Bronx gives an affirmative grunt.]

There's a good lad.


🌙 III. network | un: hdson

agnnnnnnnnnnnnnnt;;/////

[The message turns into audio:]

Blasted thing! Is this working?

If you can hear me, speak up. I need answers!


🌙 IV. wildcard

[make your own prompt if you want, im not the boss of you]

iii. | let's pretend i have any control over my life or semblance of knowledge of what i am doing

[speedchess]

[I'm fully aware this is supposed to be a network prompt but guess what, we're assuming that Xanatos is literally standing right next to Hudson from wherever he's making this post, being as helpful as ever.]

What a remarkable piece of equipment. Though evidently lacking in certain enhancements for accommodation.

[Read: he is aware of the gargoyle-like typing detected.]

Just what answers do you think you'll uncover with this little endeavor, Hudson?

Usopp || One Piece || undecided blood

[snipermansniperman]

i. Arrival
[One moment he was a calm and happy squid, and next this squid washed up to shore with a body he remembered quite clearly. Sand covered most of his face, mainly his lips and nose. When he tried to breathe, he almost choked on sand. He peered from one side, watched more people like him, washing up to shore and taking form. Each person struggled to pick themselves up again. The determination they carried, it felt, inspiring.

But then, Usopp happened to glance what was up ahead. An eerie forest and questionable gray sky. He felt a jolt of electricity shot up his spine, the alarms were on high alert. The people? Most of them didn't look human...

While the rest crawled their way to land, Usopp slowly turned his body around away from the land aiming to return to the sea. NOPE. He didn't sign up for this. He wants his squid body back. To the ocean he goes! Slowly...]

ii. Boardwalk
[Finally. Something close normal. Usopp is no stranger to parties and festivities. He's a pirate, he lived a care-free life! So, when he saw the lanterns up and the food stand, he was all over it. Also, it didn't pose a fear compared to the rest of the island. Just to blend in. He wore the appropriate color blue and green. He added some small shells with his drags. People can catch this pirate out of two things:

a - He is trying out the food and booze. He doesn't have a huge appetite, but Hell, it sure looked like he hasn't eaten food in days. Come by and drink some booze with him, he might share a story or two.]

Hey-hey! Come over here if you're bored. I got some unbelievable tales to tell, it'll blow your pants off!

[b - Or, find him in one of the shooting games. Toy gun or water gun, Usopp is grinning with confidence. Check out his targets, he hasn't missed yet.]

Ha! Child's play!

iii. SQUID
[Okay, he tried as he might. He had no intension being involved in this chaos. Yet, somehow... SOMEHOW... he ended up at the far shore where the sea creatures merged from the ocean and marching to land. The mere sight of those creatures rattled his knees.

But wait.

When he saw some GIANT SQUID with lasers, he almost faint. He screamed and panicked, high pitch voice and all.]

What the-- HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO STOP THAT?! Sorry, I can't! My can't-fight-squid illness is back. Carry on men!

[He will try to run away. Although, there is a long sling shot strapped on his back.]

iiii. Wildcard

ii.

[floatsaway]

[The month's terrible events may be over, people may be starting to feel like themselves again, sure - even the Trenchies- but that doesn't mean none of what happened the last few weeks is just...gone. No, it all happened, and some can bounce back better than others. Ochako needed to get away, out of the house because being cooped up there just lead to more bad thoughts. More guilt. The boardwalk and its festivities are a minor balm, and work as a distraction, but...Ochako still has some pretty dark rings around her eyes. She still looks deeply tired, or like she's been crying only very recently.

Usopp might actually catch the girl in the given koi fish cloak turn his way for a second, eyes red and lashes still damp. She tries to give a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She's trying, though...definitely trying to just. Keep marching on. It's just hard when you're still just a kid.]

Sorry...I'm not allowed to drink. I'm still too young. [But she wouldn't mind a story - one that could make her laugh is probably just what she needs.]

Altaïr ibn La-Ahad | Assassin's Creed

[theflyingone]

Washing Up

cw: almost drowning, nudity

He doesn't particularly like the ocean. Something that still disturbs his dreams to this day happened on a ship. That death and the vengeance that followed brought him no peace. So, it is with these troubled thoughts this Sleeper awakens. He does not remember a shipwreck, the likeliest explanation of being tossed about in stormy waters. Rather, he knows he is meant to be here, somehow, or at least, the prospect of reaching shore seems the thing to be doing.

Who he is and what he does are twined too tight together. How can he be anyone or anything but himself? The tawny man with short-cropped dark hair forms too soon from a squid and flounders in the waves too far from shore. His limbs remember their shape, climber's muscle corded over tall limbs, but not how to move. He flails one hand (its ring finger was removed years ago) above the water.

Altaïr, Assassin, master of stealth and the blade, cannot swim.

Spires

ooc: Let me know if you just want to skip to reaching the top pending mod answer. We can also segue to exploring fast travel Lamp Friends instead.

He was going to climb the tallest towers anyway to begin getting to know the city, looking for specific things not found on maps. When a strange ominous light glows from them, he becomes curious, and curiosity lends this task (not a dare or a lark, a task) more urgency. Though they outstrip the highest structures he knows back home in the 12th century, he's ready for a challenge if he can find any places to rest in the process of his ascent.

On a less crowded street, he casts a scrutinizing gaze up the side of the building. He could start here--Ah, someone is looking at him. He's used to getting looks because he carries blades.

"Magnificent," he says matter-of-factly to explain his staring, indicating the vertical reach of the spire with a subtle flourish of his right hand, before turning away.

Paleblood Malfunction: Amplified Hallucinations

ooc: If you would like a different kind of paleblood malfunction, let me know!
cw: uncontrollable* hallucinations to himself and others

Stranded in a new land, of course he thinks of home. Visions bloom before his eyes, laid over what he sees. These phantom images pulled from his memories wisp through the air around him without a care for who sees them: a far-off mountain fortress studded with red flags, the close crowds of a souk in arid summer, a harbor bustling with sailing ships festooned with medieval flags all the way from Europe... They are faint, but rich in detail. He's always had a meticulous eye.

It would seem he has gone mad.

With the benefit of years of training, he quells his breathing and wills his face to be calm. Perhaps this is just a side effect of coming into contact with a certain object, and he will figure out a way to manage it. For safety's sake, he leans against a wall in a still, unobtrusive manner designed to slip beneath notice.

People still look at him, around him, marveling at the conjurations. He swallows and hastily excises all thoughts of home by concentrating on a few well-known landmarks in Jerusalem where he conducted some of his work. There is the Al-Aqsa Mosque, within sight of the shining Dome of the Rock...

This is a fine way to find out his blood type.

Archaic Archives

He suspects he was allowed inside the building with all his blades due to the local guards (Hunters) frequently requiring information on Beasts. Still, as in the library at home, he surmises and agrees that blades are forbidden to be drawn here.

Altaïr has more scholarly pursuits. He's ensconced himself at a table and is dipping his qalam into an inkwell to scrawl notes right to left on sheaves of paper (in Classical Arabic). He's in his hooded robes. White is less practical in this world, but he is attached to things from home.

His Omen, inky-black smoke-and-blood in the shape of a martial eagle, is perched on the leather at his shoulder. Ruya turns her head to stare imposingly at anyone nearby. The man does not move or look up, only pauses in his reading or writing.

Several books lay open with titles such as The Walled Garden of the Mind, Optics: Illusion and Its Angles, On the Interpretation of the Dream, and Errors of the Sight. A few non-Sight books about the world as well: On Dreams of Beasts, Catalogue of Corruption and Its Symptoms, and Trench: North and South.

If a person wants these books, it will be a while.

ooc: Wildcard? TeaMergency or PM

washing up

[givetheslip]

Maria has been united with the unusual bag containing her clothing and a number of other items she has yet to sort through, and it's welcome enough that she won't yet question the convenience of it. In her head, she knows that washing ashore naked only to find her own dry tunic and trousers waiting for her is one of several oddities that should alarm her...but doesn't, which itself gives her pause. She wonders what her erstwhile companion would make of that — that it is not a sense of danger but its absence that is the source of any wariness. The contradiction seems quite in line with the Assassins' way of thinking.

With exquisite timing, a brief bit of splashing beyond the shore catches her attention, and she looks over just in time to see a hand flail above the surface. This far out, she can't be certain that it is a four-fingered hand, but somehow she knows. Maria stares for a moment longer, but he does not surface, and it seems he won't — or can't.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," she mutters to herself. She's only managed to pull on her tunic, but then her sturdy trousers would only be a hindrance. Wading into the shallows and then swimming out as the water gets deeper, she summons memories of youthful, sneaked swimming time in the ponds of Leicestershire.

Her body remembers as well as she could ask it to, and she dives beneath the surface with the intent to grasp an arm, pull him to the surface, help buoy him up if it's possible. It seems Maria has discovered the one thing she can do that Altaïr cannot, but she has no experience rescuing anyone from drowning. All she can do is make the attempt and pray that this too is within her capabilities.

white lily cookie ❀ cookie run kingdom

[prebaked]

a. arrival

( The feeling of being washed ashore is a curious one. She's never truly experienced swimming before. It's dangerous – a cookie should never attempt to do anything like this. However, she's always been someone who's been willing to take risks in the pursuit of knowledge.

Yes, this feeling of risk and uncertainty is familiar to her.

But, it's not one that lasts for a long period of time. When she awakens – truly awakens – her mind is racing. Not only is she taking in everything she had just experienced, but she can't help but wonder what had just happened to her. One moment, she had been exploring the abandoned academy with her newfound group of friends, and now – she was in a place that didn't seem familiar at all.

Red-colored eyes look over herself, quiet for a moment before finally speaking. )

Oh, my.... So, this is how it feels to be soggy....

( It may be dangerous to stay like this... She needs to find a place to dry off. )

b. festival

( First things first, not only does she need to figure out just where exactly she might be, but she needs to find her new friends. Even without the majority of her memories, there's far more unfamiliarity here than she was accustomed to. There are people who look far different than any monsters of cookie companions that she had been traveling with. At the same time, that doesn't seem to deter her from wanting to learn more about her situation.

It doesn't take her long before she finds herself at the festival. It's difficult not to smile at the sight of so many different colors and decorations. Despite the fact that it's grown chilly, she feels a warmth from the contagious feelings that others were experiencing.

It's when she's offered food from one of the vendors that she stops, frowning slightly. )

I don't believe eating something like that would be a good idea for me....

( Cookies only really consume sweets. Is eating something that was living once normal in a place like this...? )

c. monsters in the water

( It starts with a low rumble – a feeling that slowly begins to grow over time before the monster emerges from the water. White Lily can't help but freeze up for only a second or so before beginning to act. She's never seen a monster quite like this before, but any fear that she feels now is something she needs to push aside for the sake of others. If this monster is allowed to move any further onto the trench, there's no denying that others will get hurt, or possibly worse!

She quickly extends her staff forward, white-colored lilies surrounding anyone else who may be with her in a protection spell of sorts. At the least, it should help lessen any damage that anyone may end up having to endure. )

I'll protect you!

A

[alternia_strength]

...

[Squiiiiiiiint]

I... uh... huh...

[There's a big, gray-skinned being sidling up to her, towel in one hand, robe in another. Someone had convinced him to help out this month. Maybe to make up for the whole attempt to make a killer robot. Bah. But, right now he was sort of staring a second before he asked to anyone who was listening, including her.]

Are confections speaking now?

[Siiiiiigh. he's an idiot.]

Murderbot | The Muderbot Diaries

[offinventory]

OOC: Please refer to Murderbot as SecUnit in tags.

...Prompt: Rough Seas and High Wind.

CW: Death

Some days are no fun. This one lacks context because the striped squid doesn't have a strong understanding of why its world boils with rage. It makes for shallower waters, but the process takes days. It's swirled around a funnel of water reaching the sea floor. It gets tossed this way and that through the air. Somehow, it manages to find every rocky protrusion between it and the shore. In a moment of peace, it comes to itself, reshaping to four limbs with a torso between them and its head. That humanoid shape rapidly experiences the opposite of peace near the bottom of the ocean. It swims up up up, not fighting the lateral pull, and nearly breaches the surface before its lungs are breached with water. The limbs slow then stop, and the corpse sinks lower.

The squid carries on with grim determination. It is what it is, it can do what it can do, and the rest is up to the ocean. The ocean's in a bad mood, and it cycles through death and life and death again. Sometimes it only comes back for a minute. Sometimes it takes hours and hours to die again. When it's stranded on the shore, it lacks the strength to pull itself up the beach. Instead it burrows into the sand, pulling more and more over itself until little shows.

A slick spot no larger than one handspan acts like a window to the squid below. It thickens protectively over that vulnerable flesh nearly the same color as the black sand. In time, it recedes to reveal a human looking face, unconscious but breathing.

...Prompt: Of Monsters in the Water.

CW: Gore

The only time Murderbot has seen anything like this glowing monstrosity has been rather recent—gray skinned alien-remnant infected people that were no longer themselves but only serving something alien and dangerous. It's seen fauna across a wide range of worlds, large hostile fauna even. It's seen multiple mouthy bits. It's seen tentacles. It hasn't seen that many eyes on one thing. It has no idea what the large fauna is, but that tentacle is definitely passing someone up along its suckers like a conveyor belt. The mouth isn't as tall as a person, but it sits in the center of the tentacles, sharp and hooked, opening and closing with enough force to guarantee a person is never in one piece again. 

That's how Murderbot ends up running toward the horrific monstrosity with its large projectile weapon in hand. It waits until its close to fire repeatedly at the same point on the tentacle, higher up than the person riding the worst ride in recent memory. The flesh tears away, more than halfway through. Murderbot grabs the narrower end it's near and pulls. The limb goes taut, and everything halts for a moment. To a shriek Murderbot didn't realize water based fauna made, the tentacle comes off, spilling blood into the shallow water. It's still pulling with all its considerable strength. The tentacle, person and all, whip back from Murderbot. It releases it, and the whole thing flies through the air up the beach and away from the ocean.

One Murderbot. One monstrosity.

Sure, Murderbot's pissed, but it doesn't have armor on. This thing can clearly inflict a lot of damage. It does what SecUnits are good for—securing their clients. It races up the beach after the person, grabbing them without concern for however oriented they are. There isn't time. It's racing fauna without any kind of flyer or vehicle to reach. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," it swears under its breath. What a good idea, Murderbot. Like it hasn't experienced enough forced shutdowns recently. 

The fauna chases them.

...Prompt: Boardwalk.

CW: N/A

Local clothes with pockets isn't hard to acquire, and Murderbot prefers almost anything over the 'we caught a new one' welcome outfit. It sweeps through the boardwalk to get a sense of the immediate area. There's a whole city. It's large, and something twisting inside it dislikes ending up in some dead end. It isn't sure why. Dead ends likely have fewer people. It opts to trust its instincts since its memories are still rebuilding themselves. 



Once the sixth person aggressively offers some kind of seashell, sea glass, or sea weed related hair piece, it accepts that not having one marks it an outsider and attracts attention it doesn't want. It also has no desire to stick a piece of the ocean that spat it out into its hair. Not that long ago something organic and goopy and gross was there. It approaches a table of wares the way humans might regard unexploded ordinance. It carefully touches nothing, in case that somehow obliges it with displaying the item prominently. It's all too much—too big, too loud, too complicated, too many fragile pieces that could explode far easier than its head. It feels like wearing a knife point pressing against its head. Who does that? (Humans, the answer is always humans). Which it is. It's a totally normal nothing to worry about human. That's what it wants the humans to think, so it needs to press some kind of aquatic death instrument to its skull.



It finds the plainest piece across three tables. Its slow regard and eventual approval offered to the person behind the table, as determined by its rejection of the other vendors, sparks an incredible level of joy, and the hairpiece is practically shoved forcefully into Murderbot's hand. Its fragile construction saves it skin to skin contact. It approximates a smile and makes a show of putting the thing into its hair to the distinct pleasure of the person before them. 



It continues down the boardwalk and notes a thirty percent drop in looks its way with a forty percent drop in the length of the looks it does get. The right call, clearly. It misses the stores in the space stations where it could obtain whatever it needed to purchase without talking to a person. It could have been worse.

What's more incredible, given the large fauna coming from the ocean, is how undisturbed the festival area seems. Perhaps the shells provide protection? Some marker the fauna respects? It cannot ask without revealing itself, which leaves Murderbot with only a growing list of unanswered questions.

...Prompt: Wildcard.

CW: N/A

[ Contact me at inoctavo or silyara#7604 on Discord to plot other options. Permissions here.

boardwalk.

[necrosaint]

When Harrowhark Nonagesimus looks back over at the SecUnit in question with its starfish hairclip, does it cause an increase in that assessment of looks? Or is she not picked up due to her Lyctoral black-hole nature? Ether way, it's still happening, and it is very easy to notice Harrow with actual eyes; she wears what would be a puffed sleeved sundress if it were not a) ankle length, b) black and c) three quarter length in the sleeves instead of short-sleeved. But they are puffed, and it is a fairly loose-fitting, swingy dress, so she does seem to at least be making some amount of effort to fit into the boardwalk.

The combat boots stand out just a little bit, as do the impressive amounts of bone jewelry and the way her face is painted with a skull, but when she's actually looking over at SecUnit her expression isn't the aggression that might go with how she looks.

It's just a little bit of squinting in the sun and a little bit of beleaguered understanding. She's tried very hard to avoid anyone trying to get her attention. It's been a hard few weeks. For her part, she's wearing a seashell headband that almost looks like a bone tiara.

Someone else trying to get away from the attention by falling in line is getting the sly smile edition of Harrow sympathy. The knowing look, almost appreciative, and the quick blink-and-you-miss eyeroll at the festivities.

Oberon | Fate/Grand Order

[midsummer_moth]

I. A fairy king on a stormy shore

It probably ought to be a bad sign that there's something... familiar... about waking alone and naked in a strange place. Especially given these violent winds and crashing surf nearby. For that matter, the wild weather is probably noteworthy too, isn't it?

"..."

Well, doubtless it will come to him momentarily, he just needs a little more time to gather his thoughts.

In the mean time, anyone wandering the beach might notice the rather handsome, almost princely-looking young man simply sitting on one of the boulders as he gets his bearings. Even more interesting, he seems to be sporting a set of clear, thinly-veined wings, like what you might expect to see on some sort of fairy.

Oh, and he's still totally naked.


II. Festival freeloader

The beach may be a bust, but apparently the local festivities aren't dimmed by a little mere weather. And as luck would have it, the blues of Oberon's usual outfit fits the theme quite well, how nice! Granted, the large butterfly wings might seem a bit out of place, but... well, if one's to be a fairy king, one has to look the part, you know?

Which is to say, once he'd gotten his bearings, the newcomer's wasted no time getting started ingratiating himself to the locals. Always smiling, quick to laugh, and generally offering a friendly word to anyone he happens to come across.

"Have you tried any of these? I must say they're quite delightful!"

Also, taking advantage any free food or other goodies he happens to come across.


III. It came from the deep...

Sometimes, a fellow is just minding his own business, happening to taking a stroll not too far from the beach during one of the less stormy moments, when suddenly, with no warning, something vaguely resembling an orca designed by someone who took the 'killer' in 'killer whale' just a little too literally bursts from the waves and makes a beeline for our poor unfortunate soul. And what does this good fellow do? Does he fight? Sound the alarm?

No, he turns and books it the heck outta there. Hopefully he can make it back to safety in time... Or, perhaps, find another convenient bystander along the way to take shelter behind.

"Don't mind me, I'm afraid I'm just not much of a fighter!"


IV. Wildcard

COME AT ME


((Note on spoilers: While I'm taking Oberon from the end of LB6, generally speaking his threads will not contain spoilers, and I will warn if they're likely to come up! Unfortunately, the reason for this is also spoilers, so if you're a FGO player who doesn't like being spoiled, just be assured that I don't foresee it coming up and will be sure to mention if it does!))

iii, this is CR that has to happen, good with lb6 spoilers

[commediadellarte]

Sleepers had garnered a reputation as heroes (or occasionally villains) among Trenchies. With their gifts of strength and magic, many of them could stand up to threats that most humans struggling to stay afloat in the Waking World would fall apart even looking at.

Sayo, always going against the grain, took one look at the monster, glanced at the rapier at her side, and turned tail and ran. While her new domain as a Witch of Zero allowed her to work a great deal of magic, its capacity for firing lasers or flinging swords about was woefully lacking. As much as the idea of a heroic stand against a horrifying abomination was appealing in her mind's eye, Sayo would have to keep such confrontations to ink on pages if she didn't want to be squashed flat.

There were a few things she could do to help, though. A hand reaches out of nowhere—well, not nowhere precisely, that sturdy-looking shop had definitely been there before but it just hadn't seemed important enough to notice—and pulls Oberon inside, where Sayo and a few other stragglers fleeing from the monster wait. "Are you alright? Any injuries?" She looks him up and down, lips pursed.

hector | castlevania (netflix) | warmblood

[disbanding]

I. arrival

[Really not a fan of waking up naked and wet. To find oneself in one moment in a castle in the middle of nowhere, stubbornly ignoring the chill of evening to finish reading a book before having to go shut a window, and then— wet, and naked, and considerably warmer than before is more jarring than he'd like to repeat ever again. He doesn't remember being a squid; he remembers only waking briefly to look down at himself to see tentacles where limbs should be, passing out again, and waking up whole some time later.

So that's great. He turns over and coughs seawater onto the sand, and waves away all approaching Wakers by virtue of not trusting like that, not again, no thanks. One of them leaves a bag nearby and it's his bag, of course it is, and so he's at least able to get dressed.

Almost. Once dressed he makes his way up the beach, not quite into the thick of things on the boardwalk - lot of people there, mm - where he stops to dig through the rest of this bag. He addresses his omen (cw undead puppy), which, well. Don't talk shit about the omen, but he addresses it:]

No shoes again. We're unlucky, aren't we, Cezar?

[Like any perfectly normal dog, Cezar barks and wags at him. For sure.]

II. festival

[Of course, it's too many people in one place for Hector to like it, just as he suspected. But a man gets hungry, and if the food is free, his stomach wins out over his good sense.

Still, it's— overwhelming? For a man who's spent most of his life alone or in extremely limited company (or, like, high stakes danger company, with vampires), a boardwalk festival is the kind of thing he's often sneered at resentfully from afar and never dared to actually approach. He's only barely approaching now, standing somewhat removed from the various games and stalls, close enough to watch and to listen but not enough that someone might, good god, think he wanted to play ring toss.

He is also eating a cupcake, which is a remarkable creation. If he's approached by a fellow Sleeper he regards them with, hm, a modicum of distrust, but it's offset by the relief of what he considers to be a fellow outsider. Or at least not someone trying to get him to play fucking ring toss.]

What's the catch, do you think? There's bound to be one with this much cheer in the air. Someone handed me this confection and apologized, and I still haven't figured that one out.

[Whether or not he has located some shoes yet is dealer's choice.]

III. beasties ♥ (cw emeto)

[See Hector on the sand. See the mangled form of some sea beast or another at his feet, all badly-arranged limbs and awful teeth and slick with seawater and blood. Someone has been here, to take care of this, and it isn't Hector - he appears to be unarmed, just looking down at the creature, a little... sad? Hoo boy.

He crouches down next to it and fishes from his bag a pair of odd coins, which he proceeds to strike together a few times. Each hit produces a bright blue spark that skitters over the corpse of the beast a bit further, a bit further— until the one unmangled eye the thing retains suddenly stutters back to life with the same bright blue glow. The thing fumbles itself back upright, notably not healed— the hanging bits of flesh and open wounds don't change, but the beast is up and about again and fixed on Hector.

Hector, who tucks the coins away and reaches up to touch the beast's head where it's not... not there, looking at it with a kind of bittersweet fondness, up until he twists and retches on the sand. Not even the revival process can make these things less bad to look at, but the beast continues just to linger there, making a few unpleasantly wet sounds with what remains of its throat. Hector waves a hand at it, wiping his mouth.]

Go and deal with the others, [he says, and lo, there goes this undead beast, lumbering back into the shallows to immediately attack the next thing trying to get onto the beach. Hector looks at anyone who might have come to fight monsters and instead witnessed this, and hastily holds up his hands— though he's just vommed on the ground and is a little shaky for it, so he's not much of an intimidating figure.]

Hold— please. It- it listens to me, it won't harm anything else.

IV. wildcard

[whatever you want baby hmu]

iii!

[robussy]

[ yoRHa unit 2b does not know, neither does she care to know, if this was one of the things that she's slain on the shoreline. the sight of a human by the sand with it picks up her speed no matter the extra momentum needed to move in the sand with the heels of her design. the man is splayed and excreting content he shouldn't— she should be grateful that it has made a slide straight for the ocean before she can get to it with the dangerous sheen of her sword.

the human's plea is the only thing that stays her hand, and the curve of her blade is held at a halted striking position. ]

It's a monster, and it will kill you.

[ in the same way it distorts her own senses, and 2b can't allow that. it goes against her very instinct. if she could help it better, she wouldn't look in the direction of the aggressively splashing waves and abominable masses dueling beneath them. her vision was made to follow targets, so it takes double the effort. her pod pipes up to caution her, aware of a change in her systems: Warning: visual and cognitive impairment imminent. Avoid eye contact with target. ]

The OA | The OA | Deer CRAU | Paleblood

[revenante]

🙞 arrival — farther shores
cw: themes of possession; control over host/host's subconscious; basically OA has transported her consciousness into an alternate self and is actively supressing the alternate self's consciousness.

[ Wrapped in the darkened fabric of the cloak given to her by the Wakers, she stands on the shore with her toes in the sand — burying and unburying them, feeling the texture of it. It's so strange, this texture. Nina has known this, she thinks. Warm beaches, prickling-pleasant heat, cold drinks, and she bathes beneath the sun's rays. They are not hers, OA reminds herself. Not her memories, not her experiences. And even if she wears them on Nina's skin, the experiences of a life diverged from her own, even if OA commands her body, she will not spare Nina Azarova another thought.

The waves are dark and huge and ferocious. It's a wonder how she got to shore; something must have ensured her arrival. Maybe she willed it. She might not have willed herself here, but she willed herself to the safety of the beach, willed herself into being — to let her (Nina's) body reform itself.

And it's strange, the will, the need to be with Homer is... placated. OA isn't sure whether to be comforted by this knowledge or not, that things will be fine without her in that universe. She doesn't understand how she got here; the ocean brought her here, but there were no movements to send her. Nothing... makes sense.

She'll stand for a long time, just gazing out towards the horizon, watching the swirling tempests rage on before her. Should someone approach to check on her, she'll simply utter: ]

I've really never been to the beach before, the ocean? [ Her voice is hushed, almost in awe. She'd seen the waters in San Francisco, been down in the Marina at Karim's boat. But it only felt... like a backdrop, to her. She'd never took the time to truly... experience it. ] I always thought it would sound so loud, but— she seems so... enraged.

[ It is probably for the best that she is ushered inland soon, however. ]

🙞 arrival — boardwalk
cw: spoilers for part ii of the oa

[ And when she is ushered inland, she's drawn to the sights and smells and sounds of the Boardwalk. The festivities are in full swing, and she wanders with a sense of wonder about her. It's almost overwhelming, although he can't say if it's in a good way or a bad way — her expression shifts often, wide smiles of joy to open surprise as she takes in the booths, watches the others take part in the carnival games.

And then she spies one of the ring toss games, more so one of the prizes on the wall of the booth. It actually startles a laugh out of her: Old Night. She feels oddly compelled to try and win it, but she lacks the co-ordination for such a game as ring toss. Determined not to let the toy go, she'll try and approach someone to win it for her instead. Sometimes in one's life, they're apprehended by a strange blonde woman in a robe to win an octopus in a ring-toss. The universe is strange. ]

Excuse me. [ She tries to be charming, but it's more awkwardly-nervous than anything. She gestures back to the ring toss booth. ] Could you... win something for me—?

🙞 text | un: the oa

I keep hearing the word 'Sleeper' being used to refer to me, or I suppose people like me. And I guess I'm just throwing a line out to see what I might find.

But does Deerington sound familiar to anyone?

arrival (cw: brief mention of suicidal ideation)

[possessum]

( Peter isn't sure he quite trusts himself to go near the ocean. Not when her pull is still so fresh within his mind — the spray of waves against him, the taste of brine way deep down in his lungs. The ending she offered him. The ending he'd yearned for.

That was only... so very short ago (days? A few weeks?) He still hasn't quite processed the last month, still struggles to pull himself back out of it all. Even Paimon is strange within him, hazy and thick, weighted from so much abrasive energy last month; the city was like a shockwave of anger and violence and upset. The demon is so tired; lately, he sleeps more than he's awake.

Peter thinks he's asleep now. It's hard to tell, but if the demon were awake, he would surely ripple from beneath his skin with warning, alarm, to the fact that the boy stands facing the ocean again now. But no one stops him. With his back facing the festivities of the Boardwalk, he stands looking to the black ocean, instead. He steps closer, with a hushed exhale, with a wetness of the eyes. The pull is gone now, but he remembers.

There's a loud roar of wave, a crash against the shoreline, and Peter startles a little. The ocean's as restless as though a storm were boiling, and it makes him uneasy. He should head back. He misses Luna, he wants to hold her — after last month, it feels like he can't do enough of that. But something catches his attention suddenly, down along the shoreline. A woman stands there facing the ocean. Close to it, and clothed in the robe that tells him she's a new arrival to this place. Peter's alarm shifts focus to that concept, and he's drawing nearer to her, carrying his shoes in one hand, bare feet stepping across sand.

When he's close enough to hear her voice, something in him freezes. It takes him a moment; it's like remembering a dream later on in the day, hours after it's happened. It's fuzzy around the edges, and strange (especially his mind, which seems perpetually eroded by the presence of the alien brightness trapped within it; things get lost, he forgets things)...... but he remembers some things, too. The scent of mop water, and the feel of a sweatshirt against his fingertips. A teary voice (his or hers?), and a kind gentleness.

A woman with a teasing smile and sharp, knowing eyes, and the scent of the ocean again — but a different place, a different ocean. He wasn't the same Peter, then. She was someone else, too. It all feels like a dream.

Peter has known this woman through many lives.

His eyes are wide and his voice is quiet, barely a match for the angry swell of the ocean. It's been a very long time. Maybe he's dreaming her up now, the way he sometimes dreams of the others from back then. )

You're here.

Jaina Solo | Star Wars Legends

[forcechanic]

Arrival

All the talk of being luminous beings and not crude matter did not prepare her for this. Drifting in the sea had felt right after a sense.

Leaving the ocean... less so. THis new body doesn't drift. There are fewer appendages and they move strangely. But then she figures out the mouth and old words drift to her lips. "What the kriff?"

Boardwalk

Okay. She's on shore. This is new. And being somewhere new means taking in the local culture. Now that she's figured out how these legs work again, she's ready to get moving. Carnival games are a great way to work on coordination again.

She's a teenager and while the body might be new, the fact that it needs food now is not. It doesn't take her long at all to seek out the food.

She's less enthused about stopping and sitting still for anyone to do her hair, but her mom always said to respect local culture. "Oh, okay."

She'll play along.

Monsters in the Water

The beach is important, that much is obvious. So early on she returns there often. Sooner or later that brings more than she was planning on. The closest she can get to placing it is a krakana, or at least a child's memory of being told to stay out of the water lest the krakana eat them.

"Okay, not friendly about to turn into people..."

At least she's found her welcome bag and thus her lightsaber. Maybe Jacen could try to calm this thing down, but she's going with igniting the violet blade.

Monsters

[aetherweaver]

"Sadly not." A man in armor appears near her - he doesn't seem bothered by the lightsaber at all. He's got a sword and a shield, himself.

"I can get its attention and keep it focused on me, if you're able to get around it. If you can get on its back, all the better. How's that sound?"

Mayoi Ayase | Ensemble Stars | Paleblood

[rottencactus]

Arrival: the squid hiding in the shallows

Along the shores, remarkably in one piece, is a squid. He's a very ...unusual looking purple squid with big billowing fins and particularly long tentacles that seem to just go on and on. The squid is inching forward in a way that could be described as panicked and distressed squeaking in terror and confusion. His long tentacles are in fact very tangled up. The horror, the squidmanity...

He seems to be slowly inching his way towards a bit of drift wood to seek shelter and could probably use a hand. However, if you get too close too quickly he will shriek and probably start crying.

Have you ever heard a squid cry? Now you have. Good luck.

Boardwalk: Prompt A

Miraculously, Mayoi has gotten onto the boardwalk, in all his humanish glory. He looks no less distressed. In fact, he looks on the verge of having a panic attack. He's pale and fidgety, and vacillates between darting his eyes around in worry and then aggressively looking down to avoid any and all eye-contact with the people around him.

He has his welcome bag clutched tightly to him, and the hood of his robes are up and over his face the best he can manage, but beneath it is still a very terrified teenager who does not know what to do in his current circumstances.

"Ah... there are s-so many people..." He mumbles to himself. "I-I think I'm going to be sick. What should I do, what should I doooooo...?"

Boardwalk: Prompt B

It's happened. It was only going to be a matter of time, with how busy the boardwalk is and with how stressed out he was already. He gets shoved around in a particularly busy part of the shops. Despite his desperate attempt to escape, he's trapped and before he's able to push his way out, he feels his legs go out from under him.

Mayoi's eyes roll back and he hits the ground with a solid thud. That causes enough of a disturbance that the crowd parts some to not trample him. As soon as he hits the ground though, a bit of dark smoke bursts forth, forming his omen.

She is a tiny mouse and she is squeaking to get someone's attention for help.

Raccoon Room: Shadowy Stage.

Ah... he'd found his way here, somehow. He didn't know where to go at first, but some asking around pointed him in the direction of a place with music and, when everything else is foreign and terrifying, that was the first think he thought to find. It's much later in the evening now and it doesn't seem particularly busy. It's not like being in the audience for a Live, of which he's only able to handle for short periods anyway, this is much smaller.

He lurks there in a quiet corner for a very long time, just watching. There's a lot to take in about everything that's happened today and really, he just wants to block it out and just enjoy the performances that are going up on stage. If you can spot him in the shadows, he'll be easy enough to talk to, though he's very good at making himself disappear in plain sight, so no one would blame you for missing him most of the night.

At the very end of the night when the building is nearly empty, he will shyly make his way up to the stage. Is it open mic night? He doesn't care, he gently climbs on stage and takes up a microphone and starts to sing. Not to the rest of the bar. He directs his voice up, as if singing to the ceiling, or maybe to something much higher.

"At the sudden sound of beating wings
I noticed the world had started changing
Such strong, free wings
We’re so small compared to them -♪"

[You can also toss me a wildcard prompt! Or if you want to plot with me, hit me up at takatorabatta! Mayoi also has an Opt Out Post here so take a look at it just in case.]

boardwalk, a;

[hospitalies]

Eichi recognizes that voice.

No -- scratch that, he more than recognizes it, because it was his meddling that helped put that voice on stage, whether that voice wanted to perform or not. Eichi pauses where he stands, poised to eat one of the two cupcakes he's dual-wielding, and closes his mouth, considering his options.

He considers them very, very carefully.

But, see:

Eichi isn't dead, and Mayoi isn't dead, and that's honestly doing pretty good, all things considered, given all the squid problems and the chaos and the ocean that seems specifically primed to kill Eichi Tenshouin (and failed, yet again, to everyone's frustration).

He steps over to Mayoi, carefully, his steps light, aiming to not be entirely noticed until he can flip himself directly into Mayoi's path and shove and offensively bright green cupcake into Mayoi's direct line of vision. Nay, into his direct line of, like, licking, if he wanted to.

"Would you like a cupcake? They're certainly making me feel better," he offers. He cannot properly eat his remaining cupcake with any sense of decorum, so he simply bites off the top of the icing, like an absolute monster. It was shaped like a little octopus.

And he bit off its head. Mmm. Cupcaketopus.

silco | arcane | vileblood

[sink]

I.
Crawling out of the ocean feels right, beached upon the shore exhausted by the rough waves — but Silco has persevered through the Mariana-fury of the riptides and wash, his little squidself not dashed away. It's dangerous to be on the beach right now, but he doesn't know that. All Silco knows is the effort of reshaping himself, the growing into a human form (once more? a familiar form?) that has angular limbs and sharp cheekbones and crooked teeth, a twisted, corrupted body around a core of banked rage. It's slow at first and then comes all at once, and you, his Waker, have him crouched and damp, furious at his own weakness, snatching any offered clothes, still so grateful to be alive.

One pale eye darts around to his surroundings; the other is an abomination, black sclera that tendrils dark sickness beneath the scarred skin of his cheek, eye glowing orange-red like banked flame, fixed on his Waker. The feeling of connection is there, if coming home, but he's suspicious of it, and wearied by his own suspiciousness.

(( please check and see if anyone else has replied to this prompt; it's OTA in case anybody wants to be his Waker, but i would prefer to go over that opening infodump only once if at all. thank you! ♥ ))


II.
Funny, truly, to see a festival so outdoors. Silco is used to street stalls selling rubbery and unidentified sea creature stews, to sparkling chemical-made distractions for children, to celebration. It seems sweeter and more charming than anything Zaun ever held in his lifetime, but it's also not the pompous and rigid Piltover festivities that are usually held under open sky. That discrepancy fascinates him, and — still in only his newcomer's robes — he wanders through the festivities in the early evening, his strange eye alight amidst the shadows.

To one salesperson whose wares seem more along the lines of fabrics, he stops and inquires in a genteel rasp: "I'm looking for some clothes."

To another manning the dunk tank, he squints and frowns: "I'm not sure I understand the point."

And then later, if you appear to be on the younger side, a child or teen, you might find a bright blue cupcake being offered to you. "Too sweet for me," Silco says, already turning away as though the gesture is simply offhand.


III.
The creature emerges from the ocean tentacle by tentacle, though its suckers seem to grip not the rocks or sand but the air itself as it pulls its hideous gelatinous body from the waves. It's a great dark mass veined with something pulsing and noxious, bright blue or orchid purple veins deep beneath the eldritch blubber of its flesh. Silco should run, should be afraid, can feel his own mind bending to simply comprehend its existence in the space — but instead he stares, fascinated. Even on these shores, invisible threats lurk beneath the waves. It's almost enough to make one homesick.

His melancholy amusement is cut short by two things. Firstly, the creature suddenly moves quickly, far faster than its bulky emergence. It's tentacles carry it forward like a spider with hundreds of legs, and it pancakes itself wider and flatter, taking up space, ink spreading up the beach. Silco should have left when it first started to emerge; it won't be long before it spots him, and anyone with him.

The second thing that happens, though, is his reflexive reaction to the danger. Smoke bursts from his chest and mouth as his omen manifests, and its own dark tentacles take form, wrapping themselves around him protectively.


IV.
(( misc option! canonmates are welcome to recognize him or just the vial of shimmer he has with him, you might want to do more welcome wagoning, or you might have a better idea for a starter that doesn't fit my prompts. ))

iii

[mehanizovati]

Observation is a habit Viktor's never been able to shake. Curiosity and the cat, or just the intent dismantling of nearby ships in his head as a child as he tried to logic out how they could function. Perhaps even age old instinct of a boy who couldn't fight and couldn't rely on flight, instead the flimsy guard of recognizing trouble and hiding before it could sniff him out. All of it required rigid observation, one way or the other. Maybe that's why he keeps coming to the sea in the early months, as much to witness the new sleepers as it is to get a hint of what trouble will inevitably follow as the month progressed.

Last month was high tension and revenge giving a hint, this month he can't help but wonder if the instances of bad weather off the coast are an omen of things to come. As if to prove a point about the sea holding the dangers of this month he comes across this particular and baffling scene- a man in the new robes, a creature that grates against Viktor's mind as though trying to slot into a space it isn't designed for. Panic grasps him, animal and rational, the deep shuddering horror of what shouldn't be at the ocean and the understanding of danger, and another in danger.

He's already decided to approach, nearly stumbling with his cane in the uneven sand, when the man's omen comes out. It almost gives Viktor pause, almost, a stuttering confusion at the similarity before he's close enough to hiss, "Come on, this way."

The wind is picking up, and the empty expanse of shore seems too dangerous, too open, but the rocky mess nearby dotted with caverns may be easier to slink to without being noticed.

ruby | disco elysium | paleblood

[theinstigator]

[ OH, YOU'RE REALLY IN IT NOW, SISTER. ]

i: arrival.

[ The migraine is to be expected. Even though she didn't get caught in the paraboloid's blast radius directly, that kind of proximity to any entroponetic tissue, no matter how compressed, is never good. Plus, the headphones she had with her were cheap pieces of shit. Her good pair is back in her lorry.

She must have passed out on the coast, off of Land's End. From the shock. Ruby tells herself it's shock, because shock is predictable, safe. Well-studied. You don't lose yourself to shock. That's the kind of thing you come back from.

Ruby lies against the rocks, curled up tight, the waves beating against her body. She listens to the white noise. It's the closest you can get to sounding like nothing. It sounds like

YOUR SLURRED, CROAKING VOICE REACHES FOR SOMETHING FUNDAMENTAL FOR CONNECTION WITH YOUR FELLOW MAN YOU RECITE THE BEAUTIFUL WORDS TO THE WEARY TRAVELER AND YOU HOPE THAT BY VIRTUE OF HIM FINDING MEANING IN THEM YOU WILL LEARN WHO YOU ARE

the fog rolling in. ]

ii: a bar, somewhere in the city.

[ Ruby ditches the festival. She didn't even want to take the bag, really, but people ask even more questions when you're naked. As good as it would be to capture the attention of some other -- of any other -- pretty girl, you've got to lay low. A bar is the perfect place to do it. Something about people caught up in their own private tragedies, except that's what she would say, so fuck that, actually.

She's happy enough to nurse her drink in private. Her beer's gone warm by now, but Ruby barely notices. She listens to the idle chatter, and she doesn't think of anyone.

Some people, however, don't know how to leave her the fuck alone. It's rare to see Sleepers in this place, the locals tell her. Ruby grunts something non-committal. They start asking all sorts of weird questions about her blood, and its color, and they don't believe her when she tells them it's red, duh, like everyone else's. She pricks her finger on the sharp edge of a knife to prove it. Anything to be left alone. Look at that paleblood, one says.

Ruby has just spent five days alone, on what she now realizes was a bit of a paranoid doom spiral, in an abandoned basement. Her hookup framed her for murder and her old boss is almost certainly coming after her. She's lost in a strange city, and a good driver never gets lost. She is at the end of her rope.

Her chair clatters to the floor as she stands up, abruptly, and says, a little too loud: ]

The fuck did you say was in my blood?

iii: a home.

[ She goes back to the beach, after all that. It's safer there. She knows her coasts.

When she finds her lorry waiting for her, washed up on the shore, Ruby doesn't even bother to ask if it's real. She could use a lucky break, right now. Ruby (she'll need a new name, but not yet, give it time) crawls into the cab and sleeps.

After that, she'll stay there for the next few days. During the day, she stays in the cab, organizing it, mainly. Assessing the damage. How much intel did that cop find on her, anyway?

She emerges at night, under that bright moonlight. It's then that she does the work that she loves: sitting cross-legged on the sand, taking a metal rod to the strange light-up crystal, trying to pry it open and see how it works. Or working out thoughts in her journal, or coming up with cyphers to hide new, worse thoughts. She's at her most approachable like this, and if anyone happens too close, she'll just look up, give them a brief nod, and hope that it sends them on their way. ]

iii. a home

[discodancer]

[ The woman who wanders up the beach in a belted grey smock with seashells and ribbons woven into her hair could be an Innocent of the foam, so pearl-shining and serene is she. Even the cigarette in between her fingers seems sanctified by her holding it, a torch of sacred fire to fill holy lungs with intoxicating smoke. To say she's beautiful is almost beside the point, but of course, she is.

Just one of life's little unfairnesses.

The air has the electric scour of a passed storm. She may not know how she got here (but what's new about that?) but she may as well take a page out of the detective's book. Keep an open mind. See what falls in, or out.

That lorry, though. That she knows, at least by it's shape, and she stops to look at it for a while, idly. There's someone on the other side of it clanging away at something, one of those complicated technical tasks that she's always pretended not to find so boring. She's never seen the point of trying so hard with things. People are what's interesting, in the world.

Klaasje pads on bare feet around the side of the lorry, with the silence of a girl sneaking out of her bedroom window, and looks down at the woman she tried to hang next to the man she did. She takes a slow, deliberate drag on her cigarette, tilts her head, and says, in a soft, dreamy husk: ]

Hello, Ruby.

[ OUBLIETTE: A boy once told you that your eyes were brown because you were so full of shit. When you met your eyes in the mirror after, you wondered how he could have misunderstood you so badly. You have never been full. ]

Atsuko "Akko" Kagari | Little Witch Academia | Paleblood

[thatsmymagic]

1 // squid hours, beach (cw: emetophobia, brief body horror mention)

[ Changing forms is actually not so new to Akko, given her previous skill with metamorphosis magic. It comes so naturally to her now that as soon as she is aware that she is a squid, her body starts to remember being something else. It's a messy process of ripping and tearing and being shapes that are familiar, if incorrect. Thankfully, most of it happens in the water and well before she remembers who she is, or comprehends what's actually happening. Merciless waves swell and when they crash into the shore, they deposit a naked and shivering Akko face-first into the sand.

Her first emotion on these new shores is utter indignance. Look, if you were going to turn her into a squid just to make her remember what shape she's supposed to be, you could have picked BETTER WEATHER and maybe LEFT HER SOME FREAKING CLOTHES. Unfortunately the burst of emotion makes her turn sharply to reflexively yell at the ocean, which results in her realizing her stomach is full of gritty, sandy water, and she promptly vomits into the surf. That will have to do for a statement for now. ]

Ow, ow, ow...

[ Akko's voice comes out in a hoarse croak, throat raw from throwing up. She gropes blindly through the sand, muttering indistinctly and looking for answers or clothes or preferably both since she can't see very well and she's starting to remember the shape and concept of modesty. In the process, her hand clasps around the ankle of someone who has approached her, or simply passed too near to her.

Too bad she's having a hard time orienting herself completely and doesn't have the good sense to let go. ]

2 // festive favors, boardwalk

[ Once Akko is a bit more settled and clothed and less full of brine and confusion, she spends most of her time on the boardwalk this month. She's not too sure about Mariana yet - after all, their introduction to each other was the sea throwing Akko into the sand and Akko...returning the favor - but she is living for these arts and crafts. It takes no time at all for Akko to hijack a booth offering shell necklaces. Once they taught her how to make one, she planted her butt on the boardwalk and started making dozens.

She accosts anyone who walks too close with a selection of necklaces to choose from, all smiles and laughter and "Come on, you can make your own, too!". For people that seem glum or reserved, she pulls out the big guns: shell crowns. See, it wasn't too difficult to make other forms of seashell jewelry once you knew the trick to it, and sometimes while shifting through the shell supply you just find a crowning jewel of a shell.

If you're particularly unlucky and look particularly un-cheerful, she might simply slam dunk a crown on your head as a greeting.

3 // new horizons, crenshaw

[ So, finding a home has been a trial and error exercise. Many buildings that look abandoned are just poorly maintained and the only real way of knowing, as far as Akko is concerned, is flinging the door open and looking inside. Of course many occupied homes are locked, so she knows pretty quickly which ones are available and which ones aren't once she tries this brilliant tactic. So far, no luck on finding an unlocked home that she actually likes.

Perhaps beggars can't be choosers, but this thought has not yet occurred to Akko.

Maybe you forgot to lock your door. Maybe you only just got home and haven't had the chance. Regardless, your door swings open and a head pops into your entry hall. ]

Helloooooooo? Anybody home? Please be empty this one is so nice...

4 // wildcard, anywhere

[ Hit me up on plurk at runebranded or just go wild! ]

3. hilariously, Ochako legit lives in Crenshaw HAHAHA

[floatsaway]

[It's not that Ochako (or Bakugou, since he wakes up before dawn for his usual run) forgot to lock the door, it's mostly that there's really no reason to once she and her boyfriend finish breakfast and clean up. One, or even both, of them usually leaves the house afterwards for various reasons. Bakugou goes on patrols or training, and Ochako does the same or goes shopping and locks the door then, when the house isn't occupied. Besides, she and Bakugou both are, um...more than capable to handle most threats. Most.

Ochako hears the door swing open, assuming it's her blond boyfriend coming back from his usual patrol, and she calls out from the kitchen, where a delectable smell is wafting from. Along with the sound chopping, which stops abruptly and is replaced with approaching footsteps.]

Bakugou?! You're back early!! Ne, how was your patrol? I made us some lunch, but it's not totally ready ye--...oh.

[You're not her boyfriend.]

jinx — arcane.

[opheliac]

i. arrival — ❝they say i'm dangerous, 'cause i broke all the cages.❞

guided by spiritual, life's been unusual. thankful for all of the faces i've seen.
smiling from love we share, rival the drugs we dare.
acid on forest, we're lost in our screen.
concrete is paving lanes, somehow we stay the same.
hardened from games, getting lost in this maze.
emotions gone, feel the pain.
no use if you complain.
nature is living in space to be changed.

(there's mix feelings about being a squid. on one hand, it's peaceful and one wouldn't need to care for many things in the world -- to simply wash away the suffering. but on the other side of it, it's boring -- to swim around aimlessly in the big waters of nothingness. if... one could call it's swimming with what jinx!squid is doing. there's a lot of awkward sway movements and flailing with this one. and it might make one ponder if this particular squid is okay. what's wrong with it? does it have some sort of problem? it wouldn't be the first someone would claim for her to be.

'she's a problem and we all know it.'

it's sad, really, almost down right pathetic. even as a mollusc, she can't seem to do that right. the current is helping her along, however -- gradually getting closer to the shore which is rather curious. it's something different than the big ocean of nothingness and maybe it'll give her some new excitements. but the "excitement" that comes is not what she was hoping, though. in the middle of flailing around in the water, her form begins to shift. it sends the squid into a panic and thrashes around in the water in pure confusion. what's happening? what's going on? is this actually happening or all in her squid head? long blue haired braids flow along the sea but nothing much else yet -- their mind swirling into a whirlwind with so many voices overlapping all at once. )


('every time she comes something goes wrong.', 'you know, powder, you're stronger than you think.' 'her name is JINX!' 'your sister is...jinx.' 'powder, wake up!' 'you need to let powder die' 'remember who you are! i know you remember!

is it possible for a mollusc to scream? to hold its head? visually, she is but in reality there's just a lot of violent movements of wanting to form but remain the same. back. she needs to swim back from where she came. she changed her mind about being curious; to seek out to the shore -- this is too scary and too much. but the waves resume to tug her along until finally she reaches land. and from there the squid whimpers and flops about. jinx!squid is getting all tangled up by her tentacles and her long braided locks with all the movement she's doing. )

ii. boardwalk — ❝she's got a gun in her bag & she's waiting for you.❞

i got a cold heart but i'm running hot.
i'll let you cut in that line if you want the spot.
when you're ready.
baby, come get it.
you better work hard.
what'cha you waiting for?
i want you to be my entertainment.

(she doesn't trust this place. there's something about that makes her hairs of her neck stand on end. it's busy and colorful like zaun but...not at all like the lanes. perhaps it's how foreign this place is that's making jinx go in "guard" mode. a few people of trench attempted to help and guide her to the stalls which... went as one would expected. one touch of her braid and jinx instantly lockes her pinks at the stranger -- front jab to their chest with her boot before holding them hostage between the ball the boot and ground. the fear the stranger grants her flicks a rush in her veins and an impish smirk dances along her face. jinx peers over her shoulder -- the others look rather anxious then exchange glances. good. they should feel scared.

swinging her foot off the stranger below, jinx skips on over to the one in charge of face painting. instead them drawing on her, she harshly grabs onto the person's chin -- her nails lightly pinching at their skin. and in no time or hesitation, she takes the brush and writes the following, "JINX WUZ HERE" along their cheek. letting go and setting the brush down, jinx giggles and heads on further with her finger entwine behind her.)



a.( the food is what draws her in first. she hadn't realized her stomach had been growling for the last minute or so. the seaweed salad is her target as she quickly snatches the plate; slender fingers scooping a handful to shove in her mouth. it's not jericho's but it's decent enough. when jinx turns, she meets [YOUR CHARACTER]'s gaze. her pinks exchange a glance between [YOUR CHARACTER] and the salad -- a nonchalant shrug and speaking with her mouth full:)

What? You're not gettin' any from me. — Get your own.


b.( at least the games are fun! a little too ease for her taste but fun nevertheless. at the dart balloon booth, jinx is hunching forward on the counter with the dart fiddling between her index and middle. she bites her bottom lip with a small hum until she feels another presence aprroaching. without peering over, she asks:)

Hey, you wanna do a lil' bet with me?

iii. wildcard.

(OOC: IDK man. i'll be honest w/ you. i just showed up here with starbucks cause someone decided to hold me against my will. i have not read anything about this game beyond this TDM. please educate me and pls no bully. im smol. feel free to PM me through the journal if you need anything tho, joke aside!!!)

i

[cuddlery]

[Along comes a tall scorpion woman! Scorpia tries to visit the beach semi-regularly in hopes of helping any newly arrived Sleepers. And here comes one of them! She watches with concern as the blue-haired (?) squid seems to struggle on concern, and she hurries over to her side.]

H-hey! Easy there, everything's going to be okay! [Scorpia gestures placatingly with her pincers.] I'm here to help.