ximiliugh | SPRING TDM.

Entry tags:

! test drive

SPRING TDM.

● ● ● T D M . 0 8

GET IT IN WRITING • YOUR NEW NORMAL • CHANGE OF FACE • FYI

// PART I. get it in writing  

… What are you willing to do to erase your regret from existence?

The words ring in your ears as in the darkness of your dream, a teal glow pulses, slowly enveloping you. It is not a feeling of comfort that surrounds you, though — as a distorted voice whispers in your ear, you feel it: cold dread, and a sudden certainty that everything is about to be irrevocably changed.

It is to this daunting realization that you wake, and as your heart slows into something resembling a normal tempo, you notice something you should have noticed immediately: you are not in your bed.

1.0 White walls, clinical yet clean, sparsely-furnished rooms. You may wake in one of three rooms: a room with only one bed, a room with two beds, or a room with four beds. Those waking up in rooms with more than one bed notice that they are very much not alone. Perhaps the other occupants of the room are still sleeping, dreaming the same dream as you just did, or a regular one after returning to the station just a few days ago … or perhaps you wake to the other person in the room watching you.

What you do is entirely up to you: yell in surprise when you wake to someone staring at you? Or maybe you’ll try to sneak away before anyone notices you...

2.0 Those with life-threatening injuries find themselves awakening in the infirmary, in a regular hospital bed. Most of their injuries have been treated, and any lingering illnesses or conditions will have designated medicine bottles on the table next to the bed.

White curtains surround the bed on both sides, giving an illusion of privacy. But is that a rustling sound you hear? Some footsteps? Perhaps you’re not the only one in need of some medical attention... or you've attracted the attention of those with experience in medical aid, and they rush to your bedside, surprised about this sudden new patient.

It is not just for your injuries that you may want some company, but also for leaving the infirmary — you can’t stay there forever, after all, and will have to make your way through the hallways of the station to the living quarters, and claim a room and a bed there.

Once you’re up, you may notice there’s something in your ear: an earpiece that, when you become aware of it, quickly runs you through the instructions for how to use the network, a recorded message by a female voice that explains exactly why you’re here… and leaves you with a map of the station.

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// PART II. your new normal  

So what else is there to do but to explore? Best get to know what is now your new home.

3.0 When trying to decide where yo go, you may find your way to the armory, where you can try to work the machine there to make yourself a weapon — perhaps to replace one that didn’t come with you to the station… or maybe you want to be prepared for the future. The recently-returned team members will surely recommend having a functional weapon with you.

4.0 After you’ve exhausted yourself training, it’s time to grab a bite. For that, you should head to the kitchen, which is equipped with all the basic appliances you might need, and ingredients for most regular dishes.

5.0 A welcome reprieve to the cold, dark space that surrounds the characters can be found in the sunlight room. A skillful illusion surrounds anyone who steps inside the room: you can hear the trilling of birds, feel a light breeze caress your skin as you walk through a grass field. It seems that the illusion reflects the season — the leaves have fallen, a layer of white covers the ground, and the air is crisp and clean. If you follow the path, it leads to where a bridge rises over a brook that has now iced over — but maybe don't try your luck walking on it, as the ice may crack underneath your feet and you'll find yourself plunging into the freezing water.

With an illusion so authentic it may leave you longing for some hot chocolate, it is easy to forget you are in space at all. Perhaps that gives you comfort, or just makes you miss the real nature all the more.

6.0 If you’d rather choose tinkering over nature, the lab is guaranteed to provide you with some entertainment. Glass vials and jars of chemicals sit on shelves in a surprisingly beautiful display of colour on one side of the room, while the other side of the room contains stacks of boxes containing assorted equipment: cords, bolts, panels, buttons, gears, gadgets, gizmos, and thingamabobs. The downside is that the parts available seem to have no apparent method to their sorting. So get digging, and you may just find exactly what you need to make what you’ve always wanted to make!

7.0 As you wander back towards the common areas, you may notice a room off to the side. The room takes up a chunk of the common area, and on its unassuming door is a little plaque that reads, 'The Ximusic room'. Should you enter, you will find a sound-proofed practice room that contains — yes, you guessed it, band equipment that even the most musically inclined should be satisfied with. So pick up an instrument, saunter up to the microphone to belt out your favourite tunes, or take a seat at the side of the room and enjoy others' playing.

8.0 If it’s items you’re lacking, though, some time after your arrival, the earpiece alerts you to a new message.

// VIVECA

Hello, everyone. I hope you've had time to rest, and those new here have got used to being here. Those who’ve been here for longer know the deal, but to the new arrivals: we've got a drop of new supplies. I hope all of you find useful things among them. Anything specifically requested will come with a name tag. We're working on locating the next orb, but in the meantime... I hope those who have just returned get some rest, and those who have just arrived read up on what is expected of you during missions.

As you make your way to the platform, you'll see there is nothing amiss in the neat piles of items on it. There’s clothes, shoes, dishware, skincare, books… even a couple of CDs, and a few cute stuffed animals. So sort through what there is and grab what you want, before someone else does!

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// PART III. change of face  

(CW: POTENTIAL BODY MODIFICATION)

Whether you’re a quick study and you’ve become settled into life on the station, or you want to get the full lay of the land (in a manner of speaking) first, if you decide to explore the hall past the control room, you’ll eventually come across the simulation room.

Step past the threshold and the doors will slide shut with a quiet woosh. Nothing suspicious; nothing to worry about. But before you can really get a sense of your environment (a grey, large-ish empty room, no furniture, no discernable objects to provide markers), the room goes dark, and then … there’s really no other way to describe it: the room transforms.

You find yourself in a club. The music is upbeat, loud, but not too loud. Down a short flight of steps flanking the bar and seating is the open floor with more tables and booths bathed in a warm, dim glow of light, and at the very end of the room is a stage with its bright spotlight showcasing its performers — though, at the moment, the stage is empty.

9.0 When you take a step forward, you’ll feel a presence gently push at your chest or your shoulder — a tall and jovial man resembling a well-dressed bartender from the top up (the rest of him appears to move along wheels) approaches with a tall flute glass in hand. Its contents are sparkly and blue.

“Hello, there. Care for a drink? I’m afraid you won’t be allowed to continue until you do, and I assure you this is entirely safe. All effects you might experience remain only so long as you participate in this simulation.

Will you proceed? Please respond ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.”

There’s something a little strange about his voice, a cadence that doesn’t sound quite natural even when the simulation is so realistic otherwise. Once you’ve given your consent, the bartender continues.

“One thing you should know: there is an orb within this club. This drink will aid in your ultimate retrieval of the orb. To better blend in with our patrons, you may experience temporary changes within your body. Good luck.”

10.0 It seems the bartender wasn’t lying. Once you’ve allowed the drink (tasty, sweet-but-not-too-sweet, effervescent, with light notes of your fondest childhood memory) to settle in your stomach you might experience a myriad of effects on your body, ranging from a change in skin colour (pink? green? blue with spots?), an additional limb or two (or three), a tail or wings, or cybernetic parts such as lie-detecting eyes or a tongue that can uncover truths and lies in others. If you happen to find another Orber within the room and both of you have consumed the offered drink, you might find yourself experiencing a full bodyswap.

None of the changes are painful; if anything, they might not even be noticeable until you look into a mirror, look down at your limb-in-question, or your companion points it out.

11.0 The moment you approach the stage, a performer will appear as if out of thin air and begin to sing, her voice strong and smoky and melodic. Her enthralling performance could put you into a trance, but you have an orb to find and a personal task to accomplish, so it’s time to put your best foot forward and do a little investigating.

Talking to some of the patrons might prove fruitful as some of them are convinced that the stage has never sounded or looked so good, like there’s something giving performers that extra oomph that no one can explain. It might be wise to wait until that last performance before you sneak up there — or maybe you want to do a little snooping around now, you know, while everyone’s distracted. Strategize with your fellow Orbers and uncover the location of this hidden orb.

● ● ●

N O T E: The effects of the drink and the level of changes your character experiences is entirely up to you. Patrons of this fine club won’t bat an eye if you look a little like them.

Additionally, there are three personal tasks provided to each character as they enter the simulation. In-game, each character will be given one task. For the purposes of the test drive, we’re leaving it to players to pick a task for their character and run with it.

A Say the opposite of what you mean during the simulation.

B Create a scene with an unsuspecting teammate.

C Get up on stage and put on a performance during the simulation.

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F Y I

• TDM threads can be considered game canon so long as all parties involved agree to it.
• TDM threads can be used as samples for apps. In fact, we encourage it!
• Reserves open February 19!
• Apps open February 24.
• For any questions regarding TDM, please direct them here. For questions about the game, please refer to the FAQ.

TOP

FOR SOME FUN:
Have a clue about the upcoming mission—

▶ NAV

Threaded | Flat

For any questions about this specific test drive, please direct them here! For questions regarding the game in general, please refer to the FAQ.

●●● PART I — your new normal ;

sunlight room — ;

[ Galadriel has found herself unable to stay in one place for too long. The rooms are too white and too bare, missing all of the familiar details from her home-world. She is still … adjusting to being here and her every nerve is standing on end, anticipating surprises she could not even begin to predict. Such is the way of being plucked from her world and dropped into this station.

But it was her choice and so she will make what she can of it.

The last time she had seen snow and ice, it had been a very different experience too. This place feels peaceful; idyllic. There are no orcs to be found hiding amongst the trees, afraid of the simulated sunlight that shines above as it reflects against the light golden blonde of her long, wavy hair. There is no imminent sense of danger here as though time itself is at a stand-still.

She notices when you enter the room and tilts her head to greet you with a nod. ]

Strange that such an illusion can feel so real. Are you accustomed to this technology?

armory room — ;

[ Now, this is a room Galadriel can get behind.

She can be found admiring, judging, and inspecting some of the existing blades hanging on the wall next to other weaponry she has no familiar with … but can understand the gist of. She does not pick any one weapon up out of politeness, and perhaps to control herself, and her hand goes to the empty place at her waist where she had once been inseparable from the dagger that rested there. Her brother’s dagger, her raison d’etre, and … as it turns out … a tool in her undoing.

If you were already in the room, she might watch you train for a moment, intrigued by your fighting style (and eager to learn how it goes up against her training). ]

Care for a sparring partner?

[ Or if you’ve just stepped into the room after her, she might glance over in your direction and gesture to the wall of weapons. She doesn’t even notice the machinery to craft one yet — perhaps intentionally not thinking of someone who might man this machine and feel right at home behind it. ]

Which one is your preference?

●●● PART III — change of face ;

the club — ;

[ Having spent enough time now acclimating to station life, Galadriel now sets her sights on what’s to come. Ever a soldier herself, she has come to think of Viveca and Degar as her commanders, and as such she decides that she will not fail them the same way she will not fail to undo a great regret.

She steps into the simulation room now expecting war and bloodshed, weapons raised, and finds that the simulation is … entirely the opposite. Not only do the people here dress unlike anything she’s ever imagined, but the setting itself makes her feel almost too out of place, enough to be noticed. Even back home, even on the likes of Middle-Earth, the tavern had never been a place she frequented. And furthermore, talking her way through diplomacy has … sadly never been her strength. (That was always something her good friend Elrond could achieve without even blinking an eye.)

To say this is something of a terrifying experience, then, would be an understatement. But she holds herself well, her expression unchanging — if a little curious at least. To you, or to no one at all, she finds herself asking: ]

What manner of tavern is this?

●●● wildcard — ;

[ ooc: if none of the above sparks any inspiration, feel free to leave your own starters below (or use bits you like)! if you want to plot anything out, feel free to shoot me a PM. ]

●●● PART I — your new normal — ;

i — wake up ;

[ It isn’t entirely out of the ordinary to experience such vivid dreams, or to have conversations within them. He has, after all, been trying for so many years to reach out to his master … and while he has experienced visions to various degrees, some more interactive than others, making agreements within them is an entirely new thing.

When he opens his eyes, it's the too-white ceiling, all smooth edges and matted surfaces, (familiar in a way that scares him, actually) that greets him and not the familiar dry-humid heat and dark, echoing cavern that has become so much a part of his daily routine.

How …?

Obi-Wan Kenobi, now under the name ‘Ben’, all but scrambles up to sit where he has been lying, his heart thundering in his chest and his eyes quickly searching for some object to defend himself with. At this rate, even a rock will do. ]

Ah—!

[ If he had been found out and kidnapped by the Empire, if anything happened to Leia … or Luke … he could try to search for a feeling of them but then he isn’t sure he has the strength for it. Nor the ability.

The Force feels … dimmed here. Certainly not gone, but quieter somehow.

Perhaps this is when you enter the room. Or if you’d been asleep all along until this panicked old man yelps in surprise and wakes you, he’ll immediately look to your direction for some form of confirmation. ]

I’m sorry to disturb you. But we aren’t on Daiyu any longer, are we?

[ Or … likely any recognizable planet in the galaxy. His galaxy. ]

iii — armory ;

[ With his bearings now in their proper place and the magnitude of this contract he’s taken on now settled in his chest — not to mention a regret that leaves him still feeling cold — Obi-Wan sets to exploring the station.

He now finds himself in the armory room, surrounded by blasters and pistols and traditional weapons that likely wouldn’t stand up to the Empire’s tech.

If anyone asks whether he wishes to do a little target practice, or spar, or any manner of training, ‘Ben’ will shake his head with a polite smile and gesture for you to please go ahead. After all, he’s just looking. ]

Oh, no — no, I’d rather not. Haven’t really done any sort of fighting in some time.

vii — the ximusic room ;

[ On the days leading up to his first mission, Obi-Wan will become just a little more daring in his explorations of the station. After a breakfast of tea and a little bread, he sets past the common area and notes the music room just off to the side.

Maybe you’ve just finished a set, playing on your instrument or singing a tune. Ben will decline any offer on taking part as he’s truly useless with it, it’s clear in his expression that appreciating music is something that one really cannot do until it’s gone.

And this much he admits aloud. ]

I must admit, these instruments are quite foreign to me. But I do miss the sound of music.

●●● wildcard — ;

[ ooc: if none of the above sparks any inspiration, feel free to leave your own starters below (or use bits you like)! if you want to plot anything out, feel free to shoot me a PM. ]

station exploration

infirmary — [ the first order of business is to get out of this stuffy outfit. it had served its purpose at the time, but the novelty of being in such fine threads has quickly worn off, leaving iris to feel mildly suffocated — something he's quickly learning does not mix well with the feeling of existential horror beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach thanks to the dawning realization of his choices and where it's currently landed him.

in any case, it doesn't feel all that appropriate now that he isn't in some fancy mansion. not that he's sure what appropriate is on a space station, but he's willing to bet they'll probably be okay with jeans. the voice in his head (that's definitely going to take some getting used to, oof) mentioned something about supplies in a supply drop room, which he's going to hope also means extra clothes, but for now he's going to make a quick detour to the infirmary just in case none of those clothes do well enough to cover him up like he needs. ]

Hel-loooo?

[ he waits until no response greets him, then with a smile he dashes in to begin rummaging through drawers and cabinets like a snappily-dressed raccoon with a time crunch. he's got no way of knowing if the infirmary usually carries personnel, and frankly he isn't eager to find out. bandages, bandages, bandages... an infirmary's gotta be full of those, right? ]

laboratory — [ next order of business is to finally rid himself of the collar and bracelet. iris had never been much of a jewelry person, and being outfitted with some against his will has definitely soured him on any future purchases. this time, when he calls out in greeting, it doesn't matter if silence greets him back. if it's occupied, he'll flash an easy smile (which he hopes translates into a confidence he doesn't posses that he knows what he's doing there) before sidling up to a table or toolbox or drawer and start... rifling around to look for something. anything. a handtorch maybe?? (help.)

if it's unoccupied at the time of his arrival, anyone wandering in after will likely find iris bent awkwardly over a table mirror, attempting to jab at the collar around his neck with a screwdriver. help. ]

supply drop — [ the last order of business? making sure he's properly equipped. he's still not entirely sure what's expected of him in these missions, but he figures he's better off being safe than sorry, which means he's going to want to stock up on his weapons.

but you won't find him in the armory for that. nope, instead he'll be knee-deep in the supplies at the platform. he's already got a couple of items in his hands: a box of unsharpened pencils, a sharpie, a ballpoint pen. he'll perk up when he spots something by your foot, calling out to get your attention. ]

Oh — hey, are you gonna want those crayons?

[ look, beggars can't be choosers. ]

mission simulation ( CW: potential underage drinking )

winging it — [ so. wow. they really just let anybody in here huh. iris knows he has to focus (it may just be a training simulation, but what's the point in doing one if you aren't going to treat it like it's real?) but he's honestly just so caught up in all the everything that he hasn't done anything but gawk at everything around him since he stepped foot into the simulation room twenty minutes ago. it was downtown seattle all over again, only this time there isn't the nagging anxiety in the back of his mind of being hunted so, naturally, he's gotten caught up in savoring it all.

eventually he finds himself wandering over to the bar, where the smiling bartender offers him a drink.

cut to ten minutes later and there is a mild kerfuffle near the tables as iris (now sporting grey, feathered wings coming out of his back) tries to navigate through a crowd with the new additions, but all he really manages to do is keep cuffing people with the things. ]

Sorry, sorry! I don't know how to control them—!

about face — [ where the hell is that orb? iris isn't a quitter, but he's getting pretty close to turning around and walking right out of this simulation. the wings were one thing, but another drink later he now finds himself in an entirely new body. as if that isn't bad enough, someone is in his!

he's decided to stick by the other orber, because simulation though this may be, he's not about to let them — himself? — out of his sight. what if they do something embarrassing, and another orber sees? talk about a bad first impression! ]

Can you maybe, like... not do that with your face? My face? It's really unsettling.

you've got mail

un: iris — hi
is there a [ INSERT NAME OF YOUR CHAR OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW OR SOMEONE YOU DON'T KNOW ] here?
i wanted to say sorry, i think i accidentally ate your food... i didn't see the name on the tub till after!
i'll make it again for you! however you like!

except uh i'm not really sure what it was that i actually ate
it was delicious though?

wildcard

( choose your own adventure! )

1.0

Ohh no. No no-

( Steve mutters to himself, turning a slow circle in the common area and looking about as lost and out of place as any man can be.

His gaze darts over the white walls, the windows filled with darkness. )

This is insane- this is–

( He clocks an Orber at the end of the broad corridor, weighs the risk, and heads for them. Have a possibly familiar-looking American wearing WWI German officers' duds hurrying right up but just keeping his distance, and demanding answers: )

What is this; are we really in space? ( A Look crosses his face, that of a sudden, despairing revelation. ) Are we dead?

5.0/6.0

( Everything gets a once-over, the various rooms of the station investigated with a close eye. The lab holds his interest longer than most, possessed of some sick fear that he'll find Dr. Maru tucked in a corner somewhere under her green chemist's bonnet, tinkering away at her terrible formula.

Instead it's just messy, idly so as the spaces of brilliant minds often are, and no gas canisters in sight.

Anyone in there will get him sidling up to them, interested: )

What are you working on?

( Later, Steve steps out into blustery cold and a sudden snowfall, so shocked he has to take a second to catch his breath.

Winter sparkles as far as the eye can see, running in drifts of white to snow-capped trees under a cloudy sky.

Glancing back behind him to the lab, he looks again to the snow, the accumulation of silver flakes decorating his coat, his shoulders. )

Oh, I am way outta my depth here.

Wildcard

( ooc: lmk if you have any questions, Steve will be p much everywhere and into everything! )

[ SMALL SPOILERS FOR JEDI FALLEN ORDER! ]

PART I;

i. wake up;

[ waking up on a space ship isn't a new thing for cal; space has been home for a long time. longer than bracca was, longer than even his new ship is. the mantis is home and cal knows the sound of it. he opens his eyes and stares at the unfamiliar ceiling, reaches out and finds that he cannot sense cere or hear greez trying to fish the bogling out of the vents.

he moves slowly, carefully as he pushes himself up to examine what's going on. his dual-sided lightsaber is at his side and cal reaches out to wrap his hand around the handle, holding on to it as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

there's another one on the other side of the room and, oh, that's got some personality doesn't it. he frowns, narrowing his eyes as he hears the door open. he jumps to his feet, holding the weapon behind his back. ] What's going on here?

[ the words are cautious as the jedi narrows his eyes, level. he tries to tap into the force, into memory, but the last thing doesn't make sense. ]

iii. armory;

[ if nothing else, the training room is a breath of fresh air. cal's thankful for the fact he can make weapons here and set up anything he needs.

for his part, he chooses to set up a few training droids that float around and allow him to chase after them. after mustafar, he's shaken in his own ability and what he knows. there's no time to waste, even if he's not home.

so he does what he hasn't done since leaving bracca --- he trains. lightsaber disconnected into two halves, he wields the blades with skills learned through memory and a too long adventure. maybe cere would have finally taught him something, maybe he could have learned from trilla if she'd been able to escape vader's grips. it's anger that fuels him as he thinks about her words.

'avenge us.'

anger is a dangerous thing, he knows. that's what master tapal had said over and over again. but cal's survived through fear and anger, through hope. so he lets out a scream, slices through two practice droids with a scream and stands over them as they fall to the ground trying to catch his breath. ] Fuck.

iv. kitchen;

[ greens weren't exactly plentiful on bracca. bogano, yes, but cal's not the cook. that was greez's role and they didn't really have any time for something fancy.

so he digs through the fridge for something familiar and instead he finds something he's not sure what to do with it all. he pulls a thick bunch of tiny green flowers out of the fridge, crouched down by a lower drawer and examines it for a moment.

then he looks over his shoulder at whatever soul may be passing by. ] Do people eat this?

vii. music room;

[ music has always made cal feel better, helped him work faster. he doesn't play any instruments of his own but the force helps him pick up pieces, remember songs and recreate them if he can.

so he picks up a guitar left behind, sits down on a stool to drum at the chords. he's not sure who's played the song last but the opening chords are soothing enough. simple before they melt into the sort of music cal likes, rock and roll. he smiles to himself, keeps the song flowing until the memories attached the instrument fade away and he's got nothing to go off of. if he's gathered an audience, he hasn't noticed. not yet. but when he does, he offers a shy smile. ] Any chance you know what comes next?

x. wild card;

[ ooc: feel free to pm or throw a starter my way, i'm down for anything! ]

Edited 2023-02-17 17:20 (UTC)

[arrival]

[What would you do, to erase your regret from existence?

V has a lot of regrets. Comes with the life she’s led—corpo-rat to street merc to the woman who stormed Arasaka to get to Mikoshi, you don’t get to that point without making a few (plenty of) mistakes. But the biggest, most enduring one has to be this: Jackie, her best and first friend, dying right beside her. All the deaths she’s dealt out, that’s the one she regrets the most: the one she had tried so, so fucking hard to stop.

Go back in time, undo his death, have him at her back? See Misty and Mama Welles happy? Of course she says yes. Never mind everything else—she’s handled it all before, she can do it again, she just needs her best friend back, that’s all.

So that leads her here: waking up, once again, in a strange place she doesn’t recognize. She groans as she tries to sit up, but then the Relic acts up again, her vision going fuzzy around the edges as she hisses in pain, a hand gripping onto the bed post as she coughs into her hand, huge racking coughs that rattle her lungs. Nonono—fuck, the Relic malfunctions are still there, even now that she and Johnny have been split from each other.

(Johnny—shit, she hopes he’s okay.)

Blood spatters the palm of her hand, and she shuts her eyes, lets out a ragged breath. Shit. She’ll—She’ll fix this too, somehow, on top of Jackie. Space station like this, it’s gotta have something that can help her.

She looks up, and it’s only then she sees the person sitting on the other bed across from her.]

What, [she says, flashing a bloodstained smile she knows she must’ve gotten from Johnny,] never seen somebody hack their lungs up before?

[ximusic room]

[Johnny had been the musician, between the two of them. V’s seen his memories (as unreliable as they are), seen him shred a guitar on stage like he was born for it. V herself never really tried playing any instrument before, although Johnny’s time in the body means she’s a passable guitar player now.

It’s the guitar she finds herself gravitating to, but unlike Johnny’s favored electric guitars, V picks out an acoustic one. She takes a seat, strums a few chords on it, and begins to sing:] We lost everything, we had to pay the price…

[simulation]

[Visibly chromed up as she is—with her eyes sometimes glowing an eerie green as the Kiroshi optics scan her surroundings, and the lines of cyberware on her face—V already passes well enough in this crowd. She doesn’t turn the drink down, though, and heads into the club with a pair of hawk wings attached to her back.

Her hand reaches back toward her shoulder blades, and she grumbles,] Fucking things itch like hell. Swear that’s the last time I drink something without asking what’s in it, first.

[Still, she supposes they could prove useful. Her eyes flick around, glowing green as she scans the crowd around her, and she takes note of the other orber enjoying the simulation as well. Approaches with purpose, snatching up another drink and sniffing it, but not downing it just yet.

When she does get there, she nudges the other orber, nods to the stage.] If I get up there, can you sneak around the back, see if the orb’s there?

part i | reach out and touch someone —

( his first instinct is that chuck has taken advantage of the divide between he and dean, separating them completely. as he does not sleep and has no memory after what happened after his and dean's argument in the high school's locker room. he awakens suddenly, eyes shooting open. his first thought sits on the edge of his lips. )

Dean. ( quieter, he speaks again. ) Sam?

( there is a deep, deep pit of regret he cannot escape as words echo inside his mind. as rowena's death, jack's death, his bargain with the Empty- could that be it? no, this is not the Empty. he has been to the Empty.

castiel does not experience temperature, though he has when he was without grace and his wings had been cut, so he knows the feeling.

his next thought is something has happened to his grace. but, that is not the problem at hand. is there a problem? inherently, he knows things will never be the same and in a way, they aren't.

he approaches anybody in a bed, nearby. he does not recognize them, but that doesn't mean they aren't in trouble. he doesn't have a long list of culprits, but he could see Chuck's fixation morphing if it involves these strangers.

he places a steady hand on their shoulder or their arm, kneeling next to them, or he stands, bent over, lightly rousing them from their sleep. )

Are you okay?

part ii | the wanderer —

( castiel does not take ignorance lying down. for someone that has eons of knowledge, he is at a loss. but being at a disadvantage won't stop him. still, he perseveres. what he needs is a lay of the land, like Dean and Sam taught him. his hunter instincts kick in. what he needs is a better picture of his surroundings.

3.0 — ( he does not forge his own weapons, but inspects the ones at hand, seeing if he recognizes any design. he compares it to his own knowledge of weapons. being counseled, he questions why he needs his own if they are on a ship together. will they be fighting one another?

with nothing better to do, no alternative at the moment and regret itching at his spine, he sinks his frustration into a sparring partner. he even takes off his trenchcoat and tie.

be warned, he is strong and adept. but, this isn't about defeat, he just needs to work through feelings. this overwhelming regretful dread.

he is relentless, however, so his sparring partner may have to yield, cas not growing tired. but he will apologize if he gets too into it. )

5.0 — ( cas does not eat, so he only briefly pops his head into the kitchen. he can taste and he quite likes the bite and burn of alcohol, but it does not sustain him.

not like sunlight. it does not power him in any way, not like superman, but it reminds him most of the earth, something he has helped save time and again. he spends the most time in here, fascinated by the simulation knowing it's a simulation but in no hurry at all to end his time there.

the breeze kicks at his heels as he lets himself explore the simulation, approaching the bridge. he does not set foot on the lake, and that cold, creeping regret and dread has lessened. it is more about what he misses, what is missing on this ship.

he finds himself at peace here with his thoughts.

he can be found here throughout his day. )

8.0 — ( he is not one to hoard items, and there are very few that hold sentimental value for him, but a tape-player he finds particular interest in, his hand grasping a tape specially made for him in his pocket. )

I could actually use this, if you don't mind.

( he finds a few other tapes of a few other bands that a certain hunter might like and politely asks if he can collect them. he takes a similar, but darker coat, but doesn't get greedy, instead inspecting things and names. he is methodical, but not obsessive, stepping away when he's finished. )

part iii | in da club —

10.0 — ( castiel hesitates, but only just so before accepting the drink in the simulation. the nightclub is not his 'scene,' nor is it his friends' or former family, but he is here to learn anything he can. it's the eyes that have it. unknowingly, he has become a lie detector, something he had been good at in his former omniscience, but it will take experience and interaction to learn what's happened to him.

he does parse over his tasks, approaching who he thinks is a fellow orber (you?) )

Are they expecting us to start a bar fight?

( blame his time with dean and sam for assuming this, but that's how you make a scene in a bar. (yes, nightclub, but it has a bar, so, semantics.

or... )

I'm not very... theatrical.

( he guesses dean might disagree. he has had his theatrical moments, all because a simple human can't understand him in full angel-mode. but that was years and years ago. (poor pamela.)
x | castiel is nothing if not polite and attentive, so it is incredibly possible to swap bodies with him. just saying. )

11.0 — ( cas has grown to appreciate music and film and television to a degree he never used to thanks to ~~dean~~ the winchesters, so it is easy for him to be swayed by the singer. he needs to be snapped out of it because, please remind him, he has a fake task at hand. finding an orb of no significance.

he may be having a moment. )

wildcard feel free to wildcard, or, if you have any questions, PM this journal or pp me at

audacieux

Edited 2023-02-17 17:41 (UTC)

PART 1;

i. not your bed

( in truth, julian alfred pankratz (better known as jaskier), is used to waking up in foreign beds. many different beds. sometimes he doesn't even remember how he got there. usually, though, that involves ale. a lot of ale.

usually he's also not alone. he snorts, pressing his face into the pillow and wondering what in the name of the confleunce did he drink last night. the dream he had? well, jaskier's not one to make foolish deals with magical items. he knows better (he certainly does not!)

he stands up, wrapping a blanket around himself and instead of questioning where he is as a sane man might, stumbles forward. he feels drunk on ale still, so it sends him tumbling into another bed where a body seems to be occupying it with the grace of a baby fawn, but no awkward scream. definitely not a high pitched one, no. )

v. the sunlit room

( space.

jaskier doesn't even know what it really means. they are amongst the stars in a metal box, a castle of sorts and everything is either real or an illusion. it shouldn't be surprising, no, given the two decades he's had.

but there's no geralt here or anyone else he recognizes that he can mis-blame for this adventure. admittedly, jaskier has been trying not to blame others for his own misfortunes, for his own adventures. was that not why he'd taken on the title of 'sandpiper' and tried his hand and doing something on his own. it had meant something to people, had been his own path forced out of petty bitterness.

yet, it had been his.

maybe this can be his too, the bard thinks as he leans against the railing of a bridge over a frozen pond. there's no reason not to make it his own, to see what he can bring to the table. after all, he'd managed without the help of a certain witcher for how long? he's capable at his age. not bitter, not bitter at all. no.

he can make new friends, has made them. so he turns as he hears footsteps approach, slaps a grin on his face. ) So. Are you new here?

If not, what do you all do here for fun? There is something fun to do here on this ship? Ale? Music? No death and destruction? ( welcome to jaskier, you poor soul. )

PART 2;

x. up in the club

( the silvery skin and wings are new. jaskier's still trying to get use to the way the wings shift and flutter with his moods, the way that he can't quite tuck them away.

he's supposed to be here on a mission but, ever the hedonist, he's gotten distracted with ale and music along the way. so he's flirting with the simulation locals, batting his eyes at the different people he can't tell are real or not.

so poor soul near by, when he's done wiping a drink he's gotten thrown in his face he turns to you. one wing, feathered and silver, wraps around the nearest person close to him and pulls them close. ) So what can I do convince you to join me on stage for a song? I am quite the singer you know but I need back-up.

wildcard.

( ooc: feel free to pm if you'd like something specific but otherwise, feel free to throw anything my way. will be testing out various canon-points, either post-season 2 or mid-season 2 when he's chilling in a jail cell. )

Edited 2023-02-17 17:49 (UTC)

1.0

[ This isn't Steve Rogers' first rodeo. He goes through the motions: waking up disoriented, in unfamiliar surroundings, his enhanced senses on overdrive taking in atmospheric changes. He jolts when he picks up on another heartbeat, slower and calmer than his. ]

They didn't say there'd be roommates.

[ He doesn't sound upset. Steve is used to shared living quarters, especially since he has been on the run. He can work with this. ]

10.0

[ In true nightclub fashion, this place is too dark, too crowded, too loud. It's an attack on the senses and Steve grimaces, grinding his teeth as he keeps to the outskirts of the room. He is nursing a drink that he has yet to sip from: the liquid swirls in its glass like a dazzling blue nebula. He doubts it will affect him like it should; most drink and drugs don't.

Here goes nothing, he thinks, and throws the drink back like a shot.

Suddenly, he is staring back at himself from a distance of just a few feet. It doesn't just feel like an out of body experience, it is one. He looks down at a pair of hands he doesn't recognize. In the next blink, he is himself again, now staring at someone who looks just as confused as he feels.

His body must have metabolized the drink so quickly that the effects lasted but a few seconds. ]

What was that?

NETWORK

voice | un: rogers

How long does it take to get used to having this thing in your head?

[ OOC: Wildcard option is available if none of these work! Tentative canon point is following Captain America: Civil War. PMs open for anything else. ]

★ 4.0 | the kitchen

( there'd been a very careful investigation into each cupboard and storage area to see what this kitchen held before adrienne had grabbed an apple, leaning against one of the counters nearby )

How elaborately do you think most people cook? ( says the woman who lives off a lot of takeout. when she cooks it is far from elaborate ) Or is it a group meal situation?

( god, that feels far too much like college for her liking )

★ 10.0 | change of pace

( accepting the drink was the easy part, though adrienne was also wondering if there was any amount of drinks that would make this scenario turn out to be a dream. or help her forget for a little while.

it was why she was still at the bar, drinking whatever had been offered to her and though she hadn't noticed, the initial drink had given her skin a bluer tint to it, giving her a paler, icier appearance than usual. it at least didn't taste terrible and she was considering trying to order another one after it )

So this simulation... what exactly are we preparing for?

( because aside from the strange appearances of some of the people around her it didn't feel like an unusual night. and the 'task' she'd been given felt like it would be very easy to complete )

★ network | un: cocked tale

what are your three best tips for surviving being in space?

I.1.0 (or 2.0) - wake-up call

[Akyta Dryad doesn't expect to wake up at all. At best, she anticipates the dark of a Layil Empire prison cell; at worst, she's braced herself for the unwaking and senseless captivity of the Project. So a sterile and frankly inoffensive hospital bed is-- to put it lightly? Alarming. She isn't where, or when, she is supposed to be, and for an Enkie jumper like her, there is nothing more dangerous than not knowing her when.

Screw the dream, and screw the voice. She still has her rifle, so it'll have to do. Closing her hands around her trusty weapon, she rises, ready to get the hell out.

Until, of course, she runs into company. The first unlucky person to wake a little too quickly or emerge from their own hospital bed meets the muzzle of a mid 20th century rifle. On the other end is... a deer in a pilot's jacket. She glowers at them, her hands steady on the trigger.]

Talk. Now.

[If she's met a human, she'll also look a little puzzled:] Why do you look like that?

II.5.0 - solid ground

[Akyta's current state is a far cry from her panicked arrival. Though her rifle hasn't left her side, she's basking in the simulated sunlight. From a distance, she looks utterly peaceful, lying in the grass and letting the faint breeze tickle her ears and ruffle the light red-brown of her coat.

Her pensive expression when one approaches tells a much different story. She just looks pinched, worn out: like this is the first break she's gotten in a long, long while. The woman wrinkles her nose and continues to stare up at the clouds, deep in thought.]

On Seol, [she says, as she notices someone,] we almost never come down to the earth. I haven't been in months.

[They're here already, she'll tolerate it. Akyta gestures with a tilt of her head: you're allowed to bother her.]

III.10.0 - face off

[Even before the war this wasn't really her scene. Akyta's wallflowering along the edges of the club, looking a little awkawrd and very much out of place-- and, well, human. One drink in, her claws and ears have remained, but her snout and the fur on her face haven't, so she hasn't quite noticed her strangely bare face, nor the cropped brunette hair poking out from under her hat.]

I'm having a wonderful time. [she says to the nearest orber with a grimace.] Done. Now, let's find this thing already. I've had enough of this training exercise.

wildcard;

[lmk if you'd like anything else or feel free to surprise me!]

[ As far as hospitable environments went, a desolate rock in the middle of some remote galaxy wasn't much to write home about. The view wasn't exactly what you could call beautiful, not unless you were into gray rocks. Lots and lots of gray rocks.

And the restaurant scene? Forget about it. Aside from month-old birthday cake and a dwindling supply of cocktail hotdogs, there wasn't much around for the discerning foodie. According to Jake, anyway. Though considering he was now the sole inhabitant of this rock, who else were you gonna ask? Talk about being a big dog in an desolate pond!

Jake chuckles at his internal running commentary. Maybe not the most original jokes, but slowly starving to death had a way of lowering a guy's standards. He was on week five of his one-way-trip to the furthest reaches of space, courtesy of his now-late father. Conversations with himself (aloud or in his head) were taking on a lot of the heavy lifting, entertainment-wise. Anything to keep the silence at bay. Silences in the vacuum of space could get preeeetty bleak.

Dying was pretty bleak too, Jake supposes, but that was small potatoes compared to the quiet.

So imagine his delight when new voice creeps into his daydreaming. What was he willing to do to erase his regret from existence? Gee, lady, that sounds like a lot of work but hey! If it'll keep this hallucination going a little while longer, let's get existential! ]

I ● get it in writing; two beds

[ Jake wakes up slow, almost immediately wincing from the brightness of the decor. White wasn't really a color Jake would describe as loud, but get enough of it together and it could raise a real din. Over a month spent in the dark reaches of space probably didn't help, either. ]

What deadworld is this supposed to be, anyway? [ Jake mumbles, sitting up and hopping off the bed to do a cursory sniff of the place. He was definitely dead, no two ways about that, but the rest of this place confuses him. Shouldn't he be talking to Death right now or something? Was there an orientation he'd overslept through? Also, why the heck was he still hungry? ] Swear to glob, if starving to death means you get cursed with some sorta eternal tummy ache, me and the head honcho are gonna have words.

[ Running commentary aside, his nose wasn't giving him much information. Jake sniffs under the bed, around the sheets, over to the second bed with the second person sleeping in it-- ]

Aw, dip. [ Jake blinks curiously at the newly-noticed stranger. ] Company.

[ Jake walks over on all fours, hopping up onto the bed to get a better look fellow recently deceased. Upon waking, this stranger will be met with the face of a jowly yellow dog laying down across their chest and looking at them with what could only be described as curiosity. ]

Rise and shine, sleepyhead. [ The dog speaks; sounding both unerringly chill and also decidedly like an adult man. Up to you which is weirder about that. ] Welcome to death.

II ● your new normal

[ It would take a few more repetitions for him to retain everything that Vivica chick shared with them, but Jake was at least confident death was off the table. That new lease on life cast plenty of things in a fresh light for Jake. One, his extremely empty gut wasn't an eternal curse. And two, the scent of his little brother clinging all over the station wasn't a hallucination after all.

He hasn't seen the kid in five weeks. Obviously, Jake was anxious to get searching and get this tearful reunion a-brewin', but here's the thing. Everybody gotta eat, right? Maybe he could knock out two birds with one stone on this one. Trotting off down the hall, nose pressed to the floor, Jake sets off to follow the twin scents of gross teenage boy and delicious space food. ]

a; the kitchen
[ The heart wants what the heart wants, and the nose was definitely subordinate to its heart-boss. Now normally, Jake would prefer to cook his raw ingredients into something greater than the sum of their parts. But man, five weeks of rationing cocktail weenies could make just about any gourmand rediscover the simple pleasures of sticking your face into a vat of pickles and inhaling.

Visitors to the kitchen pantry will probably see the trail of half-eaten pantry staples and spilled food before they see the little yellow dog at the center of it, doggedly chewing open a burlap sack of raw potatoes. ]

b; the armory
[ Stomach now temporarily sated, Jake's journey down the Finn-stink trail continues. His nose leads him next to what appeared to be some sort of... training area? Weapons of every type imaginable lined the walls and Jake finds himself pulling a face as he stood up on two legs to get a better look.

What were they supposed to use all these for, exactly?

Ears perking up upon sensing another person, Jake turns towards them with a wag of the tail. ]

Oh! Hey, buddy, you got a sec? [ He takes a few steps closer, paw raised in greeting. ] I'm looking for someone. Maybe you know 'em?

[ Jake's upheld paw suddenly isn't a paw at all, stretching itself into a... rectangle. A rectangle with two bear-ear shaped nubs on top. ]

I'm looking for a kid that looks like this. [ He nods again to the nubbed rectangle. ] Name's Finn. Kinda loud. Wears a dumb hat. Ringing any bells?

[ The Finn-Shape stretches again, forming a little bell at the end of his arm. Jake shakes it around a little for emphasis but, being made of dog-flesh, it doesn't make much of a sound. ]

c; the sunlight room (closed to finn)
[ Whether it's his nose or directions that lead him here, Jake can tell the moment he sets off toward the sunlight room that he's on the right track. He can feel himself speeding up subconsciously, jogging down the halls past crew members and looking for all the world like somebody's lost dog.

Which... was true, kinda.

Even the promise of his brother isn't quite enough to keep Jake from losing focus just one more time. Walking into the fabricated oasis, Jake finds himself struck still. The sunlight room was beautiful; all white sloping hills and picturesque lakes and soft glowing suns. Maybe it wasn't the real thing, but up to a few hours ago Jake was sure he'd never see anything close to beauty ever again. Who says an echo of something perfect couldn't be perfect too, in its own way?

Nature wasn't the only thing the dog missed, though. Refocusing, Jake sets off running down the hill, voice raised loud enough to shatter the tranquil calm imbued into the space. He was gonna be that guy today, oh well.]

Finn? [ He shouts, stretching his neck to look around while he trotting ahead. There was something almost nostalgic about this, if you stripped away all the space weirdness and mystery. Jake spent most of his life shouting that kid's name exactly like this. ] Fiii-iiiin!

III ● change of face

[ As far as weird rooms Jake's walked into in his life, this one was definitely deserves a mid-to-high rank in his Top Ten Chill Hangs list. The music was pumping and some goofy dude was offering him a drink while making ominous promises about effects he might experience? Jake's never consented to anything so fast in his life.]

---

Yo! Yo, you!

[From the other end of the bar, a dog is waving. He's picked this particular person out for a reason; they, like him, still had their blue-juice in front of them untouched. Based on the diverse colors and spare-limbs around them, Jake has a pretty good idea what the drink was gonna do. Still, even when it comes to body-altering space booze, it always felt like a waste to drink alone.

... Additionally, Jake's was pretty sure the unique properties of his body meant this 'experience' was about to be a dud for him. Getting to watch a non-stretchy entity experience the horrifying joy of a second pair of legs for the first time, well, you gotta find your pleasures where you can!

He waves again to his prospective drinking buddy/guinea pig, beckoning them over to the stool beside him. ]

Don't be shy, pal. Got a toast cooking over here, I needs an audience!

Edited 2023-02-17 19:35 (UTC)

?.??//: Network

[ It's a strange feeling, like a blink and months have passed. He doesn't know how long he's been away or who is even still left onboard. Checking would be easy, but fear's still got a grip on him after all this time, worried about the people he won't find.

Worst of all, he doesn't know what to say... ]

I'm back.

What I miss?

II.5.0//: Your New Normal - Sunlight Room

[ Perhaps you just stumble across him, perhaps you're looking for him, but one of the first places Finn heads to is the Sunlight Room, as if to assure himself this is all real. If anything, seeing the snow again certainly solidifies it. The scene brings back a lot of memories, and he evidently decides not to run from them this time.

He slowly picks his way in the general direction of the kitchen, taking his time and admiring the scene, on his own for the moment and left with his thoughts. Really, he's looking around for any intricate snowmen. There were some pretty crazy ones last year. ]

II.7.0//: Your New Normal - The... Ximusic Room???

[ During his great adventures to re-familiarize himself with the place, Finn stumbles across a whole new room. Sure, he read the plaque, but had no idea what he'd find until he actually walked in.

For a long moment, he just stands in the middle of the room, blinking around like he's stuck in a daze. Then, suddenly, it occurs to him whose fingerprints are most likely all over this. An actual laugh manages to bubble out of him from the thought.

He'll be spending nearly an hour in here, poking and plucking at some of the instruments, maybe even trying out a chord (or whatever it's called) on a guitar. He likely stumbles in on your practice session or quite literally stumbles into you on his way out, distracted as he is by everything that's changed and everything that hasn't. ]

IV.0.0//: Wildcard

[ OOC: Feel free to find him anywhere on the station, including the sim room. Other than the prompts above, he'll particularly be going through the kitchen, mess, gym, infirmary, and checking to see if anyone moved into his old room. If you wanna chat, you can find me at linatrinch or PM me here. ♥ ]

1 . 0

( there have been occasions in marc's life where he's not been sure whether what he's experienced or experiencing is real. the dream had felt very much like a dream — in so far as those 'feel' like anything specific — but the other feeling, the dread and the tension in his chest at the question, that had felt real, not that it means anything.

he wakes quite suddenly — he's never been a heavy sleeper — and the stark, firm unfamiliarity of the bed and the room has him up and standing within moments. his gaze settles on the other bed, the other person, but he's not particularly inclined to wake them. not yet, anyway.

instead, he starts to — quietly — open and close the drawers to the bedside table, before moving on to closet. there are a few personal belongings that he recognises as his own and a few that he doesn't which, given the circumstances is — kind of to be expected, he guesses.

the ones that are his, he carefully pockets before the sound of movement from his roommate ("roommate") gives him pause and he glances back over his shoulder, meeting their gaze with his own. )

—Don't be scared. ( is that comforting? who knows, not marc, not really. but it's An Attempt^TM )

8 . 0

( the voice in his ear isn't exactly unfamiliar, not given his fondness for being connected to — well, whoever was willing to be at the other end of his cowl mic back home. frenchie, marlene, reese. it being unasked for is — something of an adjustment, but it's fine. he's fine.

(it's not fine.)

he doesn't know what he'd been expecting from the supply drop, but from the momentary furrow of his eyebrows, this doesn't seem to be it. still, it doesn't stop him from picking out a cd, familiarity and recognition quickly dancing across his features before he places it back down in the pile. )

Is it like this every time? ( startlingly mundane, he means. )

3 . 0

( marc's always been very particular about how he presents himself when it comes to moon knight and mr. knight — aesthetically, anyway. he's always tried to be particular about how he presents himself in all other aspects, but it's not something that's ever worked out well.

he'd found himself waking with some of his personal belongings — a white suit, shoes — but not all of his weapons. there had been no crescent darts and no moon stick. at first, he'd thought that perhaps it was because this wasn't real — how many times had he wanted to walk back so many of his decisions and choices? — before deciding that it probably wasn't that, either.

real or not — it feels real enough — he still wants his weapons. he doesn't like guns: he's used them more than enough in his past lives (technically and metaphorically) to gravitate towards nearly anything else, not to mention it's a little difficult to make a gun moon themed.

he browses the room, mild curiosity set on his features before drifting towards the machine. immediately, suddenly, he thinks that this would probably be more up frenchie's street, or soldier's, rather than his, but here he is. a sideways glance at the other person in the room, punctuated by a gesture at the machine. )

You first.

wildcard

( open to other prompts and options if none of the above work! feel free to shoot me a pm if there's anything you want to discuss, content warnings + opt-out for moon knight are located here, canon point is tentatively circa mackay's (current) run. )

i. GET IT IN WRITING.

( lara jean doesn't remember falling sleep but from waking up and learning she is absolutely not in her bed sends a wave of panic through her. everything is else is completely unfamiliar and it leaves an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

she has had her share of dreams that tend to feel a little too real when she's caught up in fantasy of it all but this? it isn't like her usual dreams either. she has regrets just like anyone else but being able to undo them? there is no way that was real. it seemed more like wishful thinking more than anything, kind of like how she is hoping that she'll wake up any minute from now to hear the sound of her dad calling for her or her sister barging into her room. she is unfortunately met with complete silence though as she pushes herself up to sit more comfortably on the bed, her mind is already buzzing with a million thoughts.

if you're lucky person who happens to be her roommate, it is not something she has noticed yet as she starts babbling to herself in the form of a mantra. is it denial? or does she really believe that she can will herself to wake up? who really knows but for a good few minutes her words are on repeat as she tries not to freak out ) No— this is so not happening. This isn't real. I'm totally dreaming. Come on— wake up already ! ( a deep breath, following by a sound of frustration as she tries to pinch herself )

ii. YOUR NEW NORMAL.

( it is much later but after a while, lara jean can no longer deny the reality of her new situation. being in space with a group of complete strangers for the same purpose of working towards undoing regrets that they respectively had.

it all seemed like such an impossibility but here she was with every fiber of her being hoping that there was an ounce of truth it because it would save her the headache of having to everything she is going through right now. she knows she isn't alone but it feels like it from knowing no one here and it makes her miss her sisters even more. she tries to put on a brave face though as she wanders through the ship to get familiar with everything and soon enough she finds herself entering the sunlight room.

it feels like stepping into one of her romantic fantasies. okay well not quite but it does fall under some winter cliche though of meeting her one true love as she takes a stroll in the park or something along those lines. she is completely aware of how silly that is and how some people would tell her as much but for a brief moment it lets her escape from her worries ) Wow.

This is amazing, right? ( she can't help but stare in awe because while she knows it just an illusion caused by the room itself, it is remarkably real ) I was expecting it to be a little less chilly though given the name of this room.

iii. CHANGE OF FACE.

( it would be an understatement that it has been a challenge for lara jean to get used to life on the station and needless to say it was a little daunting hearing about these missions they would be going on to retrieve the orb so she approaches the simulation room to get some practice in for whatever they are going to be thrown into.

she has never been to a club before much less a bar especially since wasn't even old enough for it. it really isn't her scene either so this already isn't going as she planned especially if it was a requirement to go further and that wasn't even touching on the potential side effects that seemed to be hinted at.

her hesitation is immediate as she looks at the bartender almost like a deer in the headlights. it's only a simulation but is this even legal? would it count as breaking the law and haunt her for the rest of her life? she takes a deep breath once more and if she happens to notice anyone nearby she'll eventually speak up to catch their attention, trying to not let her nerves get the best of her ) Um. Hey— is drinking strange liquids like this before starting a mission considered normal?

iv. WILDCARD

( ooc: come at me with anything else or shoot me a pm if you would like to plot something out! lara jean will be around everywhere getting used to things and trying not to panic too much. currently undecided for canon point, possibly leaning towards some time during the first movie )

Edited 2023-02-17 20:39 (UTC)

3.0 (ish)
[A weapon is at its best when it's honed and cared for. Clint might be a little older and not that much wiser for it, but he'll put the same care into training as he always does. There's not a whole lot in the training room, not even really a gym as such, but it's a calm place to work out on the daily. Spar, if anyone cares to.

And to shoot.

There might be some who haven't met him yet, that don't know that he's not going to go in for a gun, or, what, some kind of high-tech laser beam, or whatever. No, when he's got a bow in his hands, he's in his element. It's to his specs. Of course it came with him, and his quiver, and a good number of arrows. He'll stop by the armory as needed for more ammo--new ideas for specialized arrows, mostly. It's not the same as making them himself, but he doesn't trust the lab to have anything that he needs.

Not that he really trusts most of this, either. But it's what he's got. Now, where can he find some proper targets...]

5.0
[It feels a little bit like home.

There's a pang in his chest about it as he sits at the edge of the bridge, feet dangling toward the frozen brook. The birds sound about right. He thinks, he thinks he can see fish under the surface if he squints hard enough. But probably not.]

Does it feel fake to you? [At whoever's approaching with snow crunching under their shoes.] Cuz it is. Fake, I mean. But it feels like it could be something close to real.

10.0
[Drinking on the job? Don't mind if he do. It's all a simulation, after all. And he's had to do jobs in clubs often enough and had personal fun in clubs often enough that nothing about this really bothers him.

Mostly because he doesn't realize the change at first.

It's laughable, really, because they're big and obvious, but they feel perfectly natural, moving the way he wants them to move, and so long as he doesn't stretch out, he's not in the way. And someone's having some kind of laugh, because when he does finally notice with a start, his big feathery wings fluff out in agitation.]

Okay, yeah, I see. I get it, give the hawk some wings, yeah, real funny.

11.0
Hold my drink. I'm gonna go liven things up a little.

[Sorry, whoever happens to have been standing by him for this.

So this part seems obvious. Cause a distraction to let allies search around for the orb, slip backstage, try and get under the stage, wherever the hell it is. And sure, Clint's normally someone who sticks to the shadows, a history of being a spy and an assassin and worse. But this is a fake simulation, there's a very fun and easy to fulfill task in mind, and it's potentially helpful to the mission.

Plus, when's the last time he did some karaoke?]

Ladies and gentlemen, [distraction time a go, grin on his face, grabbing the mic stand left behind by the bewitching-voiced woman, temporary wings giving a flutter] ladies and gentlemen and those among us who are neither ladies nor gentlemen, I see we've got a great crowd here tonight. [And hopefully that crowd does not include people who should be moving and looking.] First? Round of drinks on me! [What? Simulation won't need real money to pay. And: distraction.] And second? [...Oh the music is starting. Brace yourselves.]
[i'm sorry/you're welcome]

[ ooc: Please see Theo's Info, Permissions and Opt-Out Post for details on her psychometric abilities as well as some general CWs. Please be aware that if your character touches her bare skin, it will trigger her psychometric abilities, meaning she will be able to tell something about your character - how they're feeling right now, what their deal is in general, what their baggage is, anything you want to share. I won't have her initiate physical skin on skin touch without prior plotting, and she herself avoids this, too, but let me know if you'd like to play with it! ]

❖ // PART I. GET IT IN WRITING

Luke is in the Red Room...

[ Theo mutters the words before her eyes open, and then a desperate gulp of air as Theo comes too, hands blindly reaching out and around her, as if pushing back an assailant that is no longer there. She lies still for a moment, breaths heavy and desperate, heart beat erratic. The last thing she remembers... red, a red light, a red door, a smiling, rotten face.

Luke, on the floor... rat poison and a needle...

… What are you willing to do to erase your regret from existence? ]

Shirley?

[ It was a mistake, going back to the house, and Theo scrambles upright with an air of near panic, tries to orient herself in the unfamiliar surroundings. A brief touch to her own neck, to the inside of her elbow - and then cold dread settles in. She's fine, she's unharmed, but she doesn't remember falling asleep in Hill House, nor does the remember waking up in a place that she can rationally explain.

Worse, she's wearing a t-shirt. Her arms and hands are bare. The gloves are gone, and that more than anything shocks Theo out of disoriented fear. Someone approaches her, and she doesn't even register that it's not Shirley but a stranger, just pushes herself up and away, curling her arms tight around her self. ]

Don't touch me - don't touch me!

❖ // PART II. YOUR NEW NORMAL

[ Theo wanders the station with her arms tightly wrapped around her, bare hands tucked away to minimize the risk of the bare skin of her arms and hands touching anyone or anything as much as possible. She beelines it to the supply drop first things first. Haunted houses, space stations, sure, fuck her day, to be honest. She's not gonna make it without gloves, that much she knows, and for once it's not even about keeping others away. This is simple self-preservation. Would she be able to feel the depth of space if she touched the hull? Fuck. Fuck, no way she's gonna so much as try.

That still leaves her with the more than uncomfortable prospect of having to dig through a pile of clothes like leaves, if you encounter her by the supply drop. She's looking at it all without touching for a long moment, as if it's the biggest obstacle ever instead of just a pile of random items and clothes. ]

Fuck. [ And after another moment, once more for emphasis: ] Fuck.

[ She does it though. Takes a deep breath, and then starts reaching into the supply drop, rummaging around and ignoring almost everything she finds, though she's careful not to mess the piles up too much. If you happen upon her like this, you'll notice she often pulls back from the supplies, walks a few paces, shakes her bare arms out. Mutters to herself before diving back in. This happens a few times before she pulls back more fully, frustrated, pushing a hand through her hair and glaring at the supply drop like it's personally offended her. Voices her frustration quiet but sharp: ]

A dozen threadbare t-shirts, you'd think they'd cough up some fucking gloves to put on top of the pile...

[ Gloves are eventually acquired one way or another, and Theo's next order of business is to to explore the rest of the station. If you happen to pass her in any random corridor or hallway, Theo might not pay you much mind except for a passing glance, unless you pass close to her - in which case she suddenly flinches, frowning at the person just passing her and rubbing her wrist as if they'd grabbed her. ]

Hey, what the fuck?

[ Later still, Theo's in the mess hall, nursing a steaming mug. If you happen to pass by her and have a nose for such thing, it's very obvious that her coffee is more than generously spiked with whiskey - and so, presumably, is the thermos flask sitting by her elbow. If approached, Theo looks up, blue eyes wary but not hostile. ]

What?

❖ Network. UN: crain.

So for those of you who have been here a while: how has this been working out so far?

I. Arrival — infirmary

[Chishiya wakes slowly, blinking a few times before looking around. He takes in his new surroundings with a detached sort of bemusement.]

Hoh. This is different.

[The last thing he remembers is bleeding out in the streets of Tokyo (from two gun shot wounds, one in his lower left side, the other in the right side of his chest), so the first thing he does is check his injuries, and his eyebrows go up in surprise. They have been tended to. Adequately, even.

More than adequately, if he’s honest, but he doesn’t always feel like being honest.]

Very different.

[Well, he can’t stay here forever if he wants to figure out what the hell is going on. He takes a deep breath and sits up slowly, gingerly, wincing a little. He’s still sore, which doesn’t surprise him. It would take a miracle to not have pain after being shot twice and he’s not inclined to believe in those.

Once he’s out of bed and dressed he starts his day exploration right there in the infirmary, actually. He can’t help but be curious. He hasn’t seen a hospital setting this well stocked in…weeks? Months? Time in Borderland doesn’t make a lot of sense. He might also be looking to swipe a few things. Old habits and all that.]

II. Snacks and People Watching

[Once he takes note of his new earpiece and figures out how to use it, that’s when his exploration begins in earnest. The technology is impressive and the map is useful. He follows it first to the kitchen. Realistically he needs food, he’s not sure when he last ate and he did lose a lot of blood. He heads into the pantry area and proceeds to peruse the selection of food that’s available, taking note of the variety. Japanese foods along side American and European snacks. Interesting.

He eventually settles on some senbei crackers and a bottle of juice before finding a spot to eat. He chooses a high traffic area, but off to the side, slightly out way so he can people watch a little. He might as well get a feel for what other types of people are here with him.]

III. Causing A Scene

[If it’s not one thing, it’s another. It used to be games, now it’s missions. But, it’s fine. He can work with this. The mission, so far, is much tamer than any game he’s played in Borderland.

He moves through the room, hands casually in his pockets as he weaves effortlessly through the crowd, keeping an eye out for anything of interest. But, well, here’s the thing. Apparently he has a personal task he needs to perform.

So when he spots another orber, minding their own business with a drink in their hand, he sidles up to them. Perhaps the orber in question is you.]

Hey, mind if I borrow this?

["Borrow" is not at all the correct word to use because what he actually does is pluck the drink from your hand and then turn to throw it, smashing it loudly against the nearest wall.]

(If none of these work for you, feel free to toss a wildcard at me, I’m down for anything.)

Edited 2023-02-17 23:18 (UTC)

✪ // PART I. GET IT IN WRITING

[ Waking up disoriented and needing a moment to pull himself together, to remember where he is - that much isn't unusual. Occupational hazard, and not the first time it's happened on the station either. This... isn't quite like that, and Sam's on his feet with the instincts of someone combat trained before the sense of 'not where he's meant to be' has fully settled in.

Last thing he remembers is the teleporter platform, and then...

He doesn't think he passed out, this time. Not quite. And so it's with a growing, sinking sense of dread that he notices he's in a room devoid of personal touches. Not his room - not their room. Does that mean...

He pushes up off the bed too fast, almost stumbles, but moves to the door. Anyone in the room with him already awake will notice that attempt at a hasty retreat - but should the occupant of the room be new to this place, an unfamiliar (or at least, not familiar from Ximilia) face, Sam's priorities shift to them when he notices them. ]

Hey. You okay?

✪ // Network. UN: redwing.

an assortment of aliens walks into a bar... finish the joke, if you're new here. best one gets a gold star.
for the old familiar faces, anyone up for a comeback tour?

[ What, Sam Wilson covering up complex feelings with stupid jokes? Never. ]

✪ // PART II. YOUR NEW NORMAL

[ Checking the perimeter is a force of habit, and as such Sam is methodical about exploring his environment, re-familiarizing himself with the station, single-minded determination to avoid thinking about some absences.

Perhaps you find him in the armory. He'll be working the machine, movements practices as if he's done this a million times by now. His heart's not in the joke he makes - he remembers making it before, when he first gcame here. ]

Y'know, if I accidentally create a glitter bomb, I guarantee for nothing.

[ The sunlight room is still as sweet as he remembers, and relaxes something clenched in Sam's shoulders, even though it makes his heart hurt, too. He's made for the open sky, not for closed quarters in goddamn space, thank you very much. He sits in the shade of a tree near the river, watches the way light reflects on the water. If you catch him unawares, his gaze is far away and haunted, though his eyes remain dry. He looks like his world has ended and he's not quite figured out how he feels about it. If alerted to the presence of someone else, Sam glances up, and tries to pull a smile over the expression, to look welcoming. It may or may not be obvious he's not quite feeling it.

The training room draws his attention as well. And if you find Sam here, you might hear him before you spot him - there's the occasional metallic clunking noise, as Sam trains with his shield (form looking considerably better than it does in the beginning of that nice montage). He's built, and he puts in the work - tirelessly so. The dark skin of both is arms is further darkened by bruises that look almost subtle on him but would be nasty on paler skin. Sam's a man who knows he needs to put in twice as much effort, and so he does - and then some. And perhaps it's obvious he's throwing himself into this to avoid thinking and doing other things. If you wait long enough, you might notice he's definitely going to overdo it if left to his own devices. But hey, if anyone's in need of a sparring partner, he's happy to provide. Sam's a tall, muscular man, but surprisingly nimble, and his fighting style is much more based in martial arts and acrobatics than brute force. If you leave him to it, or just observe for a while, you will eventually notice him reach a point where he should call it quits for the day, and just pushes past with no regards for his own well-being - the increasing amount of scrapes and bruises on his arms a testament to that.

Later, he will be in the med bay, moving to the supply cupboards as if he's done so a hundred times before, rummaging around for something to treat his hand with - his knuckles look bruised, clearly tender, like he punches a hard surface. If anyone else in here needs some patching up of some kind, Sam clearly knows his way around and is happy to provide assistance. And if anyone works in here - well. He clearly knows what he's doing in treating his own physical bruises, at least, lost in thought though he may be. ]

Edited 2023-02-17 22:01 (UTC)

🔮 // PART II —

4.0 - kitchen.
[ In the kitchen, the sounds of activity. You wouldn't be exaggerating to think there were a small team of chefs working away at a meal, but enter and you'll find just the one man cooking.

One man and his small army of self-operating appliances and utensils: knives chopping tomatoes on a chopping board that helpfully provides itself, bread pushing itself into a toaster, water pouring itself over salad leaves. The only part Stephen seems to be handling manually is the dropping of strips of bacon into a pan, monitoring them as they sizzle happily away. ]

Put your order in quickly if you're hungry.

[ He's making BLTs, this is the only order he will accept. ]

7.0 - music room
[ It takes a few days for Stephen to finally seek out the distraction of the music room. He's been in once before on his exploration of the station, but when his third night in space brings no rest his wandering eventually finds him seated at the piano stool.

Magic courses through his hands, easing neural pathways that usually snarl with pain, creating routes where damage has severed them, and with this help he begins to play. He struggles a little in places, the rhythm of it dips and halts and notes he aims for are replaced with easier alternatives, but the song is forgiving, and he's absorbed enough in the playing that he won't notice as anyone else comes in. ]

🔮 // PART III —

10.0 - the club
[ The drink goes down too easy but it doesn't matter. This isn't real, there are no Sands of Nisanti hidden amongst the bubbles, let what happens happen.

What he doesn't know is that his newly cybernetic eyes are, among possible other things, lie-displaying. White lies he tells slowly bleach the color from his irises, more deliberate untruth turns them a bright gold. Which is going to come in handy if he can just figure it out, because his task in here is to say the opposite of what he means.

It's a simulation, but its realism is impressive. So, with that in mind, Stephen makes his way to the bartender for a glass of something less transformative. Catch him at the bar, sipping on a martini and watching the crowd with eyes that pierce gold. ("Nothing," he'd told the bartender when asked how he could help, and ended up subtly stealing a water to transform into liquor when the barkeep was off delivering more flutes.)]

🔮 // NETWORK —

un: strange

If you see/have seen a cloak flying around - red fabric, blue patch - kindly let me know where and when
I wouldn't try to contain it, it's in a mood

( open to anything else too! if you'd like to plot anything out, feel free to hit me up at

miscreates )

Edited 2023-02-17 23:05 (UTC)

[ooc: Prob taking her from the end of Well of Ascension (the second of the trilogy) and if anyone was curious, info is in her journal, for some basics. Still have her app locked as I finish that up.]

1.0:

a: arrival:

[Vin has always been an incredibly light sleeper. It comes from a life on the streets, where she had to be mindful of others around and whether they could be trusted or not. Mostly, not. So of course when she comes to and senses some sort of presence seeming to be a little close for comfort, she reacts, eyes wide and instinctively going to reach for her glass dagger to defend herself if necessary. Only to find it missing? So. Of course, she doesn't outright attack whoever it is, mostly because before instinct can kick in she obviously notes the unfamiliar surroundings. Which has her pausing, glancing around.]

Wait, where.....?

[This was not where she remembered being back home. It is decidedly not back home. She recalls a strange dream, but is still taking it in, letting it sink in with the realization that it had apparently somehow happened? Something about a regret? Fixing something?]

--

b: the earpiece:

[The earpiece? She guesses they are meant to go in the ears, given the shape. But she also removes it and throws it to the ground when she hears the voice coming from it. She is unused to such technology, more used to communicating in person or if by distance, through letters. Not like this, in hearing someone's voice if they were not right in front of her or somewhere close by in earshot. Which her hearing is always enhanced anyway through her burning her metals, burning Tin to increase her physical abilities, her sight and hearing to be better aware of her surroundings and any potential threats.]

What was that? Who -- how....?

3.0:

[An armory. Vin was of course going to check that out. She is used to her glass dagger, avoiding metals in case of other allomancers being able to potentially impact her weapons by Pushing or Pulling on them. But that doesn't mean she isn't curious, coming in to have a look at least. Her eyes are wide as she takes it all in. The technology she has no idea about. The amount of metal around that she can see numerous blue lines shooting towards at least on her end in being able to sense metals. Her head tilts as she simply initially stands back observing the others working, taking it all in quietly.

Eventually, she might come over in approaching the work area though. Turning one of the daggers over in her hand.]

I wonder if anyone here has considered other materials.

5.0:

This is....?

[It reminds her of that picture Kelsier had shown her. The flower. Only there's so much greenery. So much colour. So bright in here. Vin squints as she adjusts to the artificial sunlight but does close her eyes in basking in it. The warmth of it. Back home, the rising ash falls from the ash mounds meant they didn't really see the sun and sky so clearly, they couldn't grow things like flowers. Though there were stories of a time long ago when such things were possible, did exist. Vin's just never experienced that herself. So she might be in here a while, admiring it all and basking in the sunlight.]

This is amazing.....

[And it really does have her ache in missing Kelsier. In wishing he were here to see this. That Sazed and Elend were missing this.]

6.0:

A laboratory? Hm....

[Vin glances around, watching the others working here, observing and noting what seems to be readily available. While she has a couple of spare vials on her, she doesn't have any doubts that would last her too long.]

I suppose asking if some replacements for my vials might be easy enough. At least for most of the basic metals....probably not atium.

[Of course, this is not home so she isn't anticipating that something specific to her home might be available here. When it is obvious there aren't any mines on this ship.]

8.0:

[New supplies? She can't say she isn't curious to see what has arrived. Though some things she comes across she has...no idea what it is. Like the CD. She holds it up, raising an eyebrow and admiring the way the light plays off of the back of it, possibly getting her fingerprints on the back as she holds it.]

Do you throw it? Is that it? Some sort of ranged weapon?

[She asks whoever might also be searching to rummage through the supplies nearby.]

9.0:

Temporary changes?

[So this was some sort of test? A practice run? Is what she vaguely gathers from this room. Vin thus agrees to at least try. It seems like a good idea. And is probably hardly that dangerous, compared to what she was facing back home. So she agrees and downs the drink, though what he says does have her wary. Wondering what sort of changes to expect exactly.]

10.0:

.....blue....?

[Oh? Is that what the guy had meant? About changes? Changing colour was a little weird but not as bad as she figured? Unless Vin was simply unable to tell for any of the other changes. Yet. It does remind her of the koloss back home though. The blue of their skin, the way it stretched from how huge they would grow. Vin holds out her hands in front of her, head tilting as she notes the change in colour.]

11.0:

The stage? The musicians?

[From what she gathers, talking to the others here. It sounds like this orb thing might be connected to the performers? But of course it might be a little hard to just go up there and check it out, without drawing attention. But perhaps they might finish up soon and then she or someone else could check the performers out? Or maybe at least while they were playing, find where their rooms were and check that area out? Though of course she suspects there would be security. And that she probably shouldn't just go around killing the guards just doing their job.]

Maybe they have it? Or, it must be nearby for them to be using it?

Wildcard:

[ooc: basically if something here doesn't quite work? idk. pm or hit me up on Plurk @ caprican to plot if you want!]

5.0

[ you would think that karolina would be a little more bewildered over being up in space but actually with how her life has been going lately, it undeniably falls on the scale of being normal sort of weird. she remembers having very distinct dream about regrets and in finding herself on this space station, it's not hard to determine that the two are interconnected.

is it unsettling? sure. does she think it could be some trick? possibly but she tries to remain optimistic while keeping vigilante as she wanders through the station with her focus on two things: trying to find out if her friends similarly found themselves here and to get acquainted with her new surroundings.

it is inevitable that karolina finds herself in the sunlight room. she is no stranger to illusions, she knows it isn't real but she finds herself captivated by it regardless. the snow is surprising though much like the cold air that makes her consider that she should have worn something a bit warmer but it was nice and peaceful in a way. she follows the path towards the bridge but instead of walking across it, she wandering closer just near the edge of the brook just appreciating the view for a moment.

she can feel it start to get a bit chillier so when she thinks no one is around and it happens to be less crowded, her appearance slowly starts to change:

a. it starts with her hand glowing brightly in a very vivid rainbow hue as she reaches out to touch the water to see how strong the illusion if it would melt just from her touch or hovering slightly above the surface to get to the other side as a bit of practice for her powers.

b. alternatively you could catch her as she is fully changed mostly to help keep herself warm only to immediately shift back a bit too late when she hears footsteps or the sound of an unfamiliar voice talking to her ] Oh— hi. I didn't realize anyone else would be down here this late.

10.0

[ from knowing this was meant as practice for future missions along with her own curiousity that she decided to take part in the simulation. it all seemed pretty normal so far though the bartender did seem a little sketchy but she rolls with it, taking the drink that gets offered to her and downing it quickly before turning to her fellow orber nearby]

That wasn't so bad— but let me guess, there's a catch to it? Because I'm not sure how drinking is going to help us with the mission. [ whether it's that she has changed colour or gained a pair of wings, she clearly hasn't noticed the changes just yet ]

WILDCARD

[ choose your own adventure! not too sure if her canon falls under the mcu umbrella so i will be keeping it vague on who she knows in general for mcu-verse but other than that if you would like another scenario feel free to go wild and encounter karolina elsewhere!]

i.1.0

[ Baixi knows instantly upon waking that he is not where he should be. After years of honing his senses and observational skills, he would be disappointed in himself if he didn't. Even before he opens his eyes, he can tell from the feel of the pillow on his face that this is not the bed he fell asleep in, can tell from the ambient air currents that this room is larger than the room he has been sharing with his teammates.

Slowly, and with an abundance of caution, he opens his eyes. Nothing happens, so he goes a step further and rolls from his side onto his back. Again, no actions taken against him. So he sits up. Then stands.

There are three other beds in the room, but he can see that the people in them are not Kenan or Kwang-Jo. He risks taking a step closer, to see who the person lying in the bed is... But doesn't anticipate that his approach may cause them to wake up. Instantly, he backs up, shifting his posture to aim for something casual.

(He was never any good at being casual.) ]

Um... Good morning. I don't... Do you know where we are?

ii.3/4/6.0

After becoming aware of his earpiece and receiving the AI's briefing, Baixi decides to explore the rest of the station, under the guise of stretching his legs. He cuts an unassuming figure— just an overweight, pimply teenager. And that's the persona he will try to keep up around strangers. But if you happen to catch him alone, his behaviors will be markedly different.

In the ARMORY, he can be found furiously working away at the terminal interface, creating weapon after weapon. Testing the limits of what this machine can produce.

In the TRAINING ROOM, he practices martial arts, running through forms that are recognizable as a few different styles: kung fu, tai chi, krav maga, kickboxing.

In the LAB, he can either be found poring over lines of code at a computer, fingers typing with the intense speed of a seasoned programmer; or he is digging through parts, looking for anything he can solder together into a working circuit board.

iii.11.C

[ When the simulation first started up, Baixi tried politely turning down the robotic bartender's offer of a drink, explaining that he is underage, and will stick to cola. But the drink he is given doesn't seem to be alcoholic anyway. It tastes sweet, but not overly sweet like American colas. For some reason, the taste of it reminds him of when he first received news of his acceptance into the Academy of the Bat...

What he doesn't realize until the drink is all gone, is that it has turned his skin an inhuman shade of BLUE. This is... disturbing, to say the least. But Baixi has a mission to finish, so he doesn't let the change in hue disturb him.

What bothers him more than the blue skin, is the fact that he's been assigned the personal mission of... getting on stage in front of a crowd of strangers (the number of whom are simulated he does not know), and performing. But he's not about to back down from this task. What good would he be to this crew if he can't even complete a simulated mission?

So there he is, standing center stage, spotlight on him, microphone in hand. He takes a deep breath, clearly looking uncomfortable. But, backing track or no, he lifts the mic to his lips, and starts an awkward rendition of the first song that comes to his mind. He has no idea if the Mandarin lyrics are subject to the earpiece's automatic translation filter, but half the lyrics are in English anyway. ]

iv.#.wildcard

[ OOC: probably not apping, if that influences whether you tag ing or not. HMU @ millennialfalcon if you want to plot out an alternate starter. will match prose or brackets, whichever you prefer. ]

Edited 2023-02-18 00:11 (UTC)

3.0

[He has so many questions about where he is and what this is all about. Rather than waste time and energy worrying, he is going to rearm himself to the best of his ability. So you might find a silent Korean man waiting patiently as he seems to be amassing a small stockpile of weaponry. Do you approach him or...?]

5.0

[Being inside a spaceship, Joon-gi isn't expecting to find a park, of all things. It's startling enough that he wanders around on the paths, looking around to try to find where he hears birds. Because he's wearing all black and silver, he stands out among the white landscape.]

This...this is a marvel. I don't think I've seen this much nature in years, and this isn't even real.

7.0

[With no way to contact his friends for the moment, Joon-gi is at a loss of what to do. However, the sound of people singing and playing instruments is a bit of familiarity. He'll certainly clap along to other people singing, but doesn't seem inclined to participate.]

I...would rather listen. I mean, I suppose I could try, but...

Or just wildcard it, it'll be funny, trust me

Edited 2023-02-18 00:19 (UTC)

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galadriel | rings of power

obi-wan kenobi | star wars

iris black | countdown to countdown