ximilian: (Default)
ximilia mods ([personal profile] ximilian) wrote in [community profile] ximiliugh2021-08-19 10:36 am
Entry tags:

AUGUST TDM.

T D M . 0 3

// PART I. all that glitters  


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

The words, when they die out, leave you in emptiness — despairing, all-consuming, the kind that invites only the worst thoughts. What have you done? What have you agreed to do?

But then, from the emptiness, a golden light shines, and as you reach for it —

you wake up.

1.0   Perhaps it was less the golden light in your dream and more the insistent feeling of something metallic poking your side repeatedly, making beeping noises… wait, beeping noises?

When you look down, you’ll see a small robot staring at you and looking less than happy (maybe it has something to do with your disheveled state, maybe it's still mad about having to clean up after a certain pizza-induced mess). When you get up, it unleashes a series of beeps — and then furiously starts to scrub the floor.

Yes, the floor — instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself lying on a hallway, white walls and white floor surrounding you. You don’t have long to stare at the minimalistic look of everything around you before the little bot starts poking you again, the word MOVE blinking across its visor.

So better get out of its way! Perhaps you’re on the hallway on your own and leave on your own… or perhaps there’s someone else, sleeping near you. Maybe do them the courtesy of waking them up before this little angry bot does! Or perhaps you’re the poor soul still sleeping and needing a rescue before the beeps make it to you.


2.0   If you need a visit to the infirmary, the situation may be more dire — perhaps there’s blood on the wall that you wake up against, your clothes may be dirty or ragged… whatever it is that has happened to you before waking here and has left you injured, it sure doesn’t create a reassuring sight. Best get to the infirmary as soon as possible.... with some assistance, perhaps.

Once upright, 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.

TOP


// PART II. the new staycation  


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

3.0   The most pressing question that you might ask yourself is: but where will I stay? The question is answered once you walk through the winding white corridors to the common area. Behind it, there are three types of rooms: those with one bed, two beds and four beds. The rooms are clinical yet clean, and sparsely-furnished — and most importantly, most are occupied. So be prepared to get some roomies!


4.0   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.

And speaking of weapons: to put it to good use, head to the training room, where the entire purpose is to provide you with a space to spar and train to your heart’s content!


5.0   After you’ve exhausted yourself training, it’s time to grab a bite. For that, you should head to the kitchen, which… seems to be filled with a lot of leftovers: takeout boxes with an assorted collection of pizza slices, kung pao chicken, lamb curry... not to mention the entire tray of chocolate brownies. Feel free to eat your fill — or if takeout isn’t your cup of tea, open one of the large fridges to pick fresh ingredients and make your own lunch.


6.0   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. A new addition is a flower garden where there once was a meadow — now, roses, camellias, lilies and dozens of other flowers sway in the wind, all varieties in their own flower beds, with a winding path of stones leading through them. The path leads to where a bridge rises over a sparkling, babbling brook.

Here, 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.


7.0   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!


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

// VIVECA.AI
Hi everyone, just letting you know there’s a new supply drop. It should be a little more… well, organised than before. If you made requests for items earlier, you should find them in a separate pile near the platform.

Indeed, the platform near the personal quarters is still whirring with power, and new items form neat piles 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!

TOP


// PART III. bright young things  


(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   If you’ve been given a particular body change that might aid you in this mission, do not use it to your advantage.

B   Team up with a fellow Orber to uncover the hidden location.

C   Get up on stage and put on a performance during the simulation. Your song choice will determine the outcome of success in your investigation.

TOP


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 are currently open!
Apps open August 27.
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 listen for some clues about the second mission.
(Hint: there are four clues in total.)


NAV

firstroar: (pic#6165276)

all good

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)
The foreign concept is hard to parse, hard to focus on, and Blue can do nothing but bristle and brace himself for some new pain to come from it.

...Pain that doesn't come?

"What--" He can only gasp a little as the pain starts to ebb enough for him to focus, for a bit of vitality to back up the adrenaline coursing through him. Head still swimming, he looks to the arm in front of him, and then to the face of the person connected to it.

Who...?

"What's..." What is happening?
nothinglasts: ([shithouse]zvuvETz)

Do You Believe In Rock n Roll

[personal profile] nothinglasts 2021-08-20 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well, this really isn't what Natasha had expected to walk in on, but since Yelena's only halfway through the song, Natasha is going to take a seat in the back and listen.

She's trying not to dwell on how long it's been or what her regret might change between them, because if she hadn't wound up on the run, would she have reconnected with Yelena at all?

The thought does complicate things for her, but for now, she's going to wait until the end of the song to call attention to herself and then she'll be the well-dressed redhead clapping with a little too much gusto as she approaches the stage.
]
firstroar: (pic#6891933)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
His first impulse in danger is always to protect those around him. Now is no different, and the pain and memory of what was happening has escalated the sense of urgency. It just makes her reaction all the more baffling, so contradictory as it is, and it actually gives him some pause.

It's a struggle to focus and parse what's going on, but he can perceive the wave of worry coming from her has no attachment to the imminent destruction of Meggido.

So more's the confusion.

"What--" His teeth click as his jaw clenches against a sharp throb, and any further words are replaced by a hiss of air.

What is...happening...?
firstroar: (ʜᴇsɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"..."

They hadn't been talking at all! Yet he responded so casually, without any concern.

It's very strange.

"You...mentioned missions," Blue says next, sidestepping his own concern for the moment. "What do you mean?"
squatmance: (if this is how you folks make art)

ii.

[personal profile] squatmance 2021-08-20 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[A couple of seats down, Quentin's eyebrows raise, and he glances awkwardly from side to side. Is she... talking to him? Should he answer that? A slice of floppy pizza dangles from his hand as he waits for some kind of additional cue, long enough that its cheese begins to slide off.]

Must, uh- [Oh, he should swallow this bite.] Must not be that bad of a regret.

[Congratulations, Sayo. You've just met the most painfully unsociable man on this goddamn space station. He means well.]
firstroar: (ᴅɪsʙᴇʟɪᴇғ)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor's curiosity is met by a bit of apprehension and alarm at how casually he's being responded to. It was an errant thought...and having sensed no Mu nearby, the last thing Blue expects is to be responded to.

And if he were responded to? He'd imagine it would be out of revilement or fear.

"Invade," Blue echoes, only partly invested in the answer. It's more the person who speaks that's of interest to him now.

Curiosity now meets curiosity as the Mu turns to look at this stranger.

"You...heard my thoughts. Even though I did not send them to you with intent." And he isn't bothered by it!
atium: (Of Ages)

Vin Venture l Mistborn

[personal profile] atium 2021-08-20 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[I've just been Tempted with this since I'm rereading at the moment I guess. But Vin here is from Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn trilogy of novels. She grew up on the streets and then joined Kelsier and his crew to try pull off the most insane heist/take over of the Big Bad, basically. Info regarding Allomancy, her particular abilities regarding sculling back metals are in her journal. She is used to a spy/bodyguard/assassin sort of role back home, essentially. I figure in taking her from the Well of Ascension, near the end of the second book where she's in her later teenage years.]

01

[Vin is not so used to beeping. Technology is nowhere near this advanced back home so she's rather disoriented and confused as to what exactly the robots even are, though she does stand and shift when she sees the 'move' request. She sidesteps awkwardly, glancing around seeming rather lost and dazed, rather on edge and alert as she tries to take in the unfamiliar surroundings.]

What....where is this? Elend?!

[Given she last recalls finding the Well. Last recalls shoving that thing down Elend's throat. Well. Of course she had been right with him and assumes he has to be here somewhere too. Which might be in how she ends up finding and waking others? Or generally starts to wander and explore, if cautiously, glass dagger out at the ready. Though not right in anyone's face if she gently nudges them awake with a hand to the shoulder.]

You should probably get up. Are you alright?

02:

[She. Has no idea what to make of this ear piece. Or that voice when she can't see who it is. They didn't have radio or phones or anything of the sort back home so all of this is rather new and bizarre to her as she glances around expectantly in hearing someone speaking.]

Where......are you.....?

[But it's quickly enough clear that whoever was speaking wasn't there with her exactly. Even if Vin has no idea what an AI is. When she gets the map she follows it to the infirmary, at the least in checking if maybe Elend was there? She could at least check. Though what she finds there might mostly be foreign to her in having such treatments and the like available compared to what they have back home.]

03:

I'm....not so used to sharing a room with others. Not any more.

[So uh. Apologies about this young woman who regularly back home enters via a window and is up at all hours and barely sleeps. At least at the moment she isn't necessarily accompanied by her huge wolfhound Kandra? But she will still claim a bed anyway. May as well. Not that she sleeps much or even has much if anything of sentimental value.]

But I'll try not to keep you up or anything. I'm Vin.

[Says the tiny waif of a young woman of about nineteen or so, perching on the bed with the view of the door.]

4.0

Hm. I assume most of these weapons would use metal. I wonder if I could still figure another glass dagger here....

[It's just. Habit. To avoid having metal on her person besides her earring and the obvious of her vials of metal flakes mixed with alcohol to chug down to restore her supply in using it with Allomancy, a pouch of coins to pay for things, to use in battle or getting around. Vin picks up one of the spare daggers, inspecting it with narrowed eyes in noting the weight, the metal used in creating this.

Whether there were any other Allomancers, she's just so used to being cautious on having metal. So other Allomancers couldn't use that to their advantage against her in a fight.]


5.0

There's so much.....? We can just. Take however much we want?

[Back home given the siege they had been dealing with and all. Well. Food was more scarce. They were rationing. And she had grown up on the streets. She's much less accustomed to having plenty of food than most. So of course Vin is just staring wide-eyed at all the food. She doesn't even recognize some of this either for that matter.

Probably old habits would die hard and she would pilfer some to take back to her room for an emergency supply. To have to snack on later just in case. As if it would all be gone by the time she was next hungry.]


8.0

[Vin is rummaging through the supplies to find anything that might seem familiar. She's also discovering a lot she has no idea on. Such as the CD as she holds it up and frowns, raising an eyebrow as she pouts in wondering aloud what exactly it was. What id did.]

What is this? Some sort of weapon you throw?

Wildcard:

[Feel free to pm or poke me on Plurk over @ [plurk.com profile] caprican if any of these don't work/you want a different prompt I didn't go with here.]
firstroar: (ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴇ)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
The stranger's presence becomes incredibly potent upon physical contact, and Blue shudders and freezes mid-stagger as the mix of wonder and sudden concern floods his senses. There's a strange notion of readiness that he doesn't understand at all - some anticipation of action on this stranger's part that doesn't make sense. It's that foreign concept of a healer that Blue lacks.

"What--" Blue's voice is breathless and quiet as he reaches and grasps at the wrist connected to that hand. From there, thoughts flow.

What is this...? Who? Who are you?
egraegis: (141)

athrun zala | gundam seed destiny

[personal profile] egraegis 2021-08-20 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
( 2.0: oops not dead yet )

[Athrun comes to consciousness with a loud hacking noise, which he recognizes a few seconds later as his own throat trying to expel more blood than is strictly healthy. He's sprawled against a wall in the middle of an unfamiliar hallway, alive (which is a surprise to him) but not well (which is not). Each breath is raspy and struggling, and the hand he wipes his mouth with is already bloody. This… isn't great. And he's alone, which doesn't bode well for Meyrin.

He can't focus on much beyond the thought of continuing his escape, so he braces himself against the wall and starts staggering forward, looking for clues on where to go and leaving a trail of blood behind. Something buzzes in his ear, but his hearing isn't working so great, still ringing from an explosion he should not have survived.]


( 4.0: my best friend gun-chan )

[He arrived with a gun, but guns need ammunition, and he's still too on edge to feel reassured without a supply, so his next stop after coming to terms with his new situation is the armory, to stock up. He's good enough with machinery that he shouldn't have too much difficulty figuring out how to get himself what he needs, at least. Should he find himself in the company of someone else utilizing the room, however, he hesitates.]

Ah, sorry to intrude.

( 6.0: there's no place like the ex-girlfriend's home )

[Once he's settled to a satisfying degree and no longer bleeding to death, Athrun tries something he does very rarely: give himself time to rest and recuperate. He has a lot to think about, after all. When he finds the sunlight room, he heads in and parks himself on the stone path that winds through the flowers, closing his eyes to better feel the breeze. It might almost seem as if he's asleep, but his eyes will snap open at the approach of all but the most stealthy.]

( a wild card approaches )

[Give me a different prompt :B ilu]
bindsthedead: (art-cause for concern)

[personal profile] bindsthedead 2021-08-20 09:58 pm (UTC)(link)
The face he finds is that of a young woman, dark haired and dark eyed but eerily pale, with an openly concerned expression on her face and a mark on her forehead that's still glowing faintly.

Ah. He was speaking inside her head, although Sabriel doesn't smell the hot-metal stench, or feel the other sensations that came with Free Magic. And he certainly wasn't behaving like a Free Magic sorcerer or spirit to act, which makes it an easy choice to make. He's someone who needs help, and a new crew member.

"I'm a Charter Mage, and I just used a healing spell on you, and now I'm taking you to the infirmary," Sabriel explains, as gently as she can. For all that her skin is a sickly shade of white, she's clearly strong enough to support him, guiding him with gentle but firm steps down the hallway, even as she keeps one worried eye on him, trying to see if she missed any other injuries.

"As for what's happening in a more general sense- we are on the Ximilia, a space station. Apparently we're all here because we agreed to a bargain, in order to undo our regrets." There's more she'd like to say, more details about the orbs, and all the unanswered questions about the people running the station and the orbs themselves, but right now- clearly, this man needs rest and medical attention, not getting a bunch of mysteries dropped on his head.
lucere: (♕ The waning thoughts of a bygone age)

Regis Lucis Caelum | FFXV

[personal profile] lucere 2021-08-20 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Awakening
cw: mentions of death & injury
[For all intents and purposes, Regis Lucis Caelum should be dead. However, he's not dead. Far from it judging how badly his wounds ache. It takes the old king a moment to arise but he immediately regrets it once he does. While he's uncertain what fate has in store for him now, Regis could tell he was most certainly still alive despite the gaping wound in his chest. That within itself is a miracle, especially since not many would be able to survive such an injury but Regis knew better.

He died. In fact, Regis knows he died. The second a Caelum falls, they're brought to the halls of the afterlife before their forebearers. His spirit was consumed by the Ring of the Lucii, the single most powerful artifact in the world forged by Bahamut himself. This ring has long been passed down the Caelum line for centuries bestowing each new wielder with the blessing of the Crystal. It's with this in mind that Regis cannot believe he still draws breath.

He should be dead but he's not. Most certainly not since there's something loud and small beeping at him now. Still somewhat disoriented by his current predicament, Regis turns his head to catch a glimpse at the little mechanical menace harassing him. It's a robot, a rather small robot but a robot nonetheless. The little bastard keeps beeping angrily at him, continuously poking at his side under he manages to the strength to rise. Regis stares down at the robot for a long while as he fights back the temptation to zap it. He's particularly petty after being roused in such a manner but he fights back the urge. Instead, he chooses to stand once he manages to brace his balance upon a nearby wall. He's without his scepter meaning it will be difficult for him to walk with this bad knee.
]

What sort of trickery is this?

[ He mutters to himself as he glances along the hallway. It seems he's not the only one here but he is the first to rise and is probably the only one still dripping blood. That little robot is having a field day trying to clean everything up.]


II. The Armory
[After paying a visit to the infirmary earlier, Regis decides to wander. While there's not much to see here on the space station, the breathtaking view of the cosmos was almost enough to keep him entertained. Traveling among the stars is nothing more than a fantasy where he's from. Space exploration isn't something he ever paid much thought towards, especially since the heavens above are thought to be the Astrals domain. However, he finds himself second-guessing his beliefs once he gets a glimpse of the vast unknown from the safety of this space station.

Even so, it's not enough to keep him from wandering further down the hall. That's how he eventually finds the armory. While most of the weaponry here looks as foreign and alien as the space station itself, thankfully some of these weapons look familiar to him. That's a good thing since he's in the market for a new sword or two. Imagine his surprise when he realized his Royal Armiger was empty. The Royal Arms were gone, all spirited away during his untimely death. While he's more than capable of casting a spell or two, Regis cannot help but yearn for the weight of a sturdy sword.
]

A fine sword. [He mutters to himself as he examines one of the many swords upon the weapons rack.] The hilt is a little flimsy but suppose it will do.

[It's been a while since he last wielded a sword without the aid of magic but Regis seems eager to try.]


III. Bright Young Things
[A drink? He couldn't help but arch his brows a little once the sharply-dressed bartender offers him a champagne flute. This place feels oddly real for just a mere simulation. Between the jazzy music and the cheerful but bizarre-looking patrons, everything about this cozy club feels remarkably real. It's almost he stepped back in time, a simpler time, where war and bloodshed didn't exist. It's a little startling since Regis half-expected the worst when the doors behind him closed but now, he can't help but relax a little. That, of course, was his first mistake.

A curious hum escapes him after he samples the contents of his glass. While this blue concoction is rather tart but smooth, Regis cannot help but lament that it's more like champagne than anything else. He prefers bourbon, of course. Either that or cognac. Regis was never really a fan of champagne but for this evening, he'll stomach it. After all, he would be remiss to turn his nose at a free drink. This is his second mistake.

No sooner does Regis finishes the champagne, the charges start. However, he was completely unaware of the change, especially since he didn't feel any pain once he sprouted dragon-like webbed wings upon his back. No, he didn't notice that at all until one of the wings fluttered behind him accidentally knocking a glass off the nearby counter. This marks the beginning a rather bizarre night.
]

My apologies, I didn't mean to---

[He pauses suddenly once he hears something else shatter when he turns. Those pesky black wings are just knocking anything not bolted on the counter down. It's a bit of a mess.]


IV. Wildcard
(feel free to make your own prompts!)
Edited 2021-08-20 21:59 (UTC)
attackbrows: (➤ o67)

the doctor | doctor who

[personal profile] attackbrows 2021-08-20 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Part I // All that Glitters

1.0 (a)
[You heard what the tiny robot said. Time to get a move on. Not until the Doctor gets some answers around here. Fortunately, others are (quite literally) lying around here, at his disposal.

And so he hops over and kneels to give you a few light smacks on the cheek.]


Hey! You! Wakey-wakey! No time to dawdle about in Lala land.

1.0 (b)
[OR

He walks back one step too close and accidentally greets one of your body parts with the heel of his shoe and has an accidental tumble.]


Part II // The New Staycation

5.0
[The kitchen is about as good of a place if you want to get the lay of the land and who exactly is mucking about here. That’s why the Doctor is having a seat with his feet kicked up on top of the countertop where he’s tucking into a delightful meal.

Well, maybe. It’s hard to tell how good the food is with how indifferent the Doctor looks as he takes another sporkful of food from a container. There's a label on the container. Someone’s name, perhaps? It doesn’t exactly stop him from tucking into half a portion’s worth.]


7.0
[There’s quite a handful of scientists at the lab. No question about that. The Doctor might be, somewhat, of an expert on his own accord, but that’s not what he is here for.

Far from it. The truth is the acoustics here in the lab are good enough to have a jam session.

So don’t mind the middle-aged man donning a black Crombie coat layered with a zip-over hoodie and a grungy white band t-shirt, playing a jaunty little tune on his electric guitar.

OR

Rather, maybe you mind when there is a little feedback coming out from one of the speakers and now the Doctor can’t help but look teensy bit cross about it.]


No, no, no! Come on! I had you right minutes ago. [He cries whilst petting said speaker.] Don’t make me go back to using wires.

Part III // Bright Young Things

10.0 (cw: body modification)

[If there’s anything that annoys the Doctor the most, it’s having others tell you you must eat or drink a thing to get inside their establishment. It sucks the fun out of enjoying something at your own leisure rather than some requirement.

No matter, he takes the drink in one go and goes off in his merry way. He doesn’t even take notice of the effects of the beverage. Too much to see, too much to do. There’s an orb to be found.

That is until he turns around the corner and passes by a mirror. He stops to turn around, looking back in the mirror. His expression is about as owlish as it can be. Out of caution, he reaches over to the mirror to see if there’s any trickery* being played here.

From the corner of his eye, he glances at someone standing/walking by him. Not knowing if it’s one of the Orbers or AIs.]


A disguise within a simulation is about as oxymoronic as you can get.

(*ooc note: open to anything on this front. feel free to assume any body-swap shenanigans taking place or have your character assume their own changes.)
elbowroom: (Chatting)

2.0 Infirmary

[personal profile] elbowroom 2021-08-20 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[The next person to enter the infirmary isn't looking any better than he is. She's oozing blood from some kind of wound in her shoulder, and pressing a piece of cloth into it to staunch the bleeding.

She also... doesn't appear to be human. Standing before him is a lanky, ape-like woman wearing coveralls and a backwards baseball cap.
]

What?

[Jonesy came to the infirmary for medical help, so the request for cigarettes catches her off guard for a moment - but only for a moment before she reaches into one of her pockets for something with her one free hand.]

Oh, uh. No cigarettes, but you can take a hit off of my vape if you want.
silvercrusader: (happy ⚔ well hey there chum)

jean-pierre polnareff | jojo's bizarre adventure | ota

[personal profile] silvercrusader 2021-08-20 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
part i; the one with intros;

01;

Move? You move, how about?

[It's muttered to himself, an irritated grumble that has no real thought behind it. Polnareff's barely awake, honestly; for half a moment, it seems as if he thinks he's in a hospital, but ah . . . no. No, he isn't, is he, and the moment he realizes, he springs to his feet. There's dirt and blood stained on his clothes; there's redness around his left hand and right foot, where metallic prostestics gleam. He glances around warily, but though he's tensed for a threat, there's nothing . . .

Nothing yet, anyway.

But best to be wary. A strange silver creature springs out next to him, hovering over his shoulder. Lantern-yellow eyes peer around warily; it grips its sword tightly, its body fluid and ready to strike. Polnareff doesn't give it a second glance; instead, he comes forward, standing over one of the bodies.

Not dead, or at least not yet. But who knows if it's a friend or a foe? Carefully, cautiously, he nudges them with the tip of his boot.]


Oi! You dead or all right or what?

[Like, yeah, he made a bargain, but who's to say this is what he asked for? Best be on his guard.]

part ii; the one where he's messing with powers and swords;

01;

[The training room is where he heads first, because of course it is. Food's important, and so's knowing the layout of his new home, but he's got a lot of stress built up. Exercise is always the way to release it.

It takes a while. Running first, round and round til he loses count of how many laps he's done, his lungs burning in his chest and his breath harsh and sharp. Then: more basic exercises. Pushups and situps, working patiently and thoroughly through each muscle group, gritting his teeth each time he feels the strain. And it's good, it is, but it's not quite enough.

So then he draws out his weapon.

Ah, but that's the trick, see: Chariot doesn't really look like a weapon, does he? A ghostly apparition that suddenly and swiftly appears behind Polnareff, looking like a strange mixture between fencer and robot. He's visible for only an instant, and then suddenly seems to surge through Polnareff: not quite in him, but then again, not exactly next to him either. The end result is that Polnareff almost looks as though he's wearing armor, albeit in bits and pieces scattered across his body.

But he has the sword, too. A breath, settling into the ready position . . . and then he fights. So swiftly he's a blur; thrusts and feints, throwing his body into it, leaps and turns . . . it's an impressive display of athleticism, if nothing else, but there's some kind of anger driving him. Something that keeps him going, on and on, and maybe he just doesn't notice he's got an audience. Hopefully he does, because sooner or later that silver sword will blur and he'll turn and—]


HEY!

[And the sword just disappears, about half a second away from slicing someone to ribbons. So does the armor, and Chariot too; all that's left is a very aggravated looking Frenchman.]

Don't you know better than to sneak up on somebody like that?

[Sneak's a strong word, but.]

02;

[Item drop! New clothes! And honestly, his are looking a bit grimy, covered in blood and dust, so you better believe he's gonna show up. He goes into the clothes almost immediately, holding up . . . oh, what a shirt. It's bright pink, for starters, and has a weird little corset pattern in black stitched in on the front.]

Hey, whaddya think?

[He holds it up, splaying it over his torso. Also: he's super talking to you! Yes, you! Answer his question, bud! Fashion is on the line!]

part iii; the one where polnareff parties like he's a fucking porn star;

3.1; mingling;


[See, this? This is way more his speed. From the second he walks in Polnareff relaxes, grinning faintly as he takes in the sights. Music! Dancing! Admittedly, some weird shit going on with a few of the guests, but hey, it's a party in space, why not! And shit, it's great when he gets to mix work with play.

It's not that he's forgotten the mission, mind. But who says he can't enjoy himself while he does? So yeah, sure, he drinks the damn thing, and when nothing immediately happens he forgets about it a little while, in favor of mingling.

Drinking! Dancing! And eventually returning to the sidelines, grinning a litle manically, because oh, it's been forever since he's gotten to do something that isn't life or death. It's been forever since the stakes have been so low, and maybe he's coping with something, maybe this is all just an excuse not to think, but you know what? He'll take it.]


Are all the missions this easy, or what?

[Though you know what a part of partying is? Flirting! He's twenty-two and it's been forever since he's gotten to flirt, so the first age-appropriate woman he sees, he's gonna come over with a grin.]

Bonjour.

[Hello shouldn't be able to sound flirtatious, but here we are, and that's the vibe he's putting out.]

So, uh, I guess I can't ask if you come here often, huh . . . I dunno, how bout if you look for orbs often?

[Come be hit on by him. Or save some poor NPC from him, either/or.]

3.2; transformation;

[Of course, it's not all play. He's got a job to do, and more than that, a task to accomplish. Sing on stage, well, that's easy! But singing does not an orb get, and this kind of thing will take more than one person. So he snags someone by the elbow, yanking them behind some convenient pillar.]

Hey. You in this to get the orb or what? Cuz I got a pla—

[A pla? He's got a pla? Or, no, he just didn't finish his sentence, because suddenly everything looks weird. Like, everything is suddenly way clearer, but also all the colors are different? He's got cat eyes, the pupils now slits, though at least he retains the same blue color. And oh, some ears, too, that's almost cute, though they do rather blend in with his hair . . .]

Woah.

You— hey, you seeing this?

[Obviously it's the club that's changing, not him. Jesus, Polnareff.]
peerlesscucumber: (state | without drowning)

3.9.0

[personal profile] peerlesscucumber 2021-08-20 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Shen Qingqiu studied the room at large, marveling at how advanced the holograms were. He'd only imagined things like this being possible a lifetime ago, or in a more recent lifetime by the sheer power of illusions or dreams, but they're waking: each part of this hologram possesses a face, and they're all in a setting he cannot imagine anyone from his world inventing.

As it is, he lowers the fan still in his hand, meeting the gaze of the young man (? hell if he knows) likewise in the simulation room.

"So it would seem," he says, fanning himself with a negligent air, his eyes narrowed, but his expression otherwise inscrutable.

Yeah, of course we're the only real ones here! That doesn't make whatever that shady barkeep's offering you any less real! Also, who's stupid enough to say yes to something like that?! It's guaranteed to have some shitty side effect that makes life a pain in the—

A blink, slow, as he parses the rest of what his unscripted companion said. "Not hearing thoughts... Such counts among your natural abilities?"

It strikes him then, between the errant thought of ah, cool! and of course you can't read a construct, the programming's in machine language not another one, the sinking realisation: wait, this guy reads minds?!

( ooc: Blue's welcome to whatever you'd like him to have of Shen Qingqiu's internal monologues or emotions! )
bindsthedead: (art-shock)

[personal profile] bindsthedead 2021-08-20 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Well, that blood trail isn't a good sign, even if Sabriel's senses don't detect any immediate death. So Sabriel follows the trail, frowning slightly. A new arrival? She'd expect the people already here to have a bit more sense and go straight to the infirmary or call for a healer, rather than bleeding everywhere.

And then she spots him- a young man, around her age. Frowning, Sabriel steps forward.]


You're hurt- let's get you to the infirmary, and I'll see what I can do.
silvercrusader: i'm in the mob in the future you know (talk ⚔ capisce?)

10.0;

[personal profile] silvercrusader 2021-08-20 10:12 pm (UTC)(link)
What, you think blending in is a waste of time? Some people have to practice being sneaky.

[Not him, surely, says the man with silver hair all gelled straight up for some godforsaken reason. He's got a glass in one hand and an easygoing manner, but there's something sharper in his gaze that suggests he's, you know, not totally blowing this off in favor of partying.]

Besides: bet I could think of something more oxymoronic.

[Does he know what an oxymoron is? Debatable.]
squatmance: (pretending we know things)

4.0

[personal profile] squatmance 2021-08-20 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[An atrociously-rumpled, youngish man is standing in the doorway of the armory, limbs tense and splayed as though he's been trying to press against something for cover throughout Percy's display. The look on his face is mixed between utter panic and mild outrage, like he's caught someone pissing where they're not supposed to and might potentially get beaten up for it.

No, that didn't happen in sixth grade.]


We're in a- Can you just shoot in a space station? [If the bullets didn't damage anything, his hand gestures might. He's a practiced expressive flailer.] What if it punctures the hull?
egraegis: (80)

[personal profile] egraegis 2021-08-20 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[He stumbles backwards as she approaches- or, well, he tries. He mostly falls away from her, and is lucky to catch himself before he faceplants. Balance not so great right now, turns out.]

Stay back! [She's not wearing a recognizable uniform, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything good or bad.] Who are... you with?

[If she's ZAFT, he needs to run. If she's Alliance, he... still needs to run. If she's a civilian he needs to get away from her because he's the dangerous one.]
firstroar: (pic#6892322)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
What a surreal feeling it is, being guided along without much awareness of moving at all, because so much else is clawing at his focus. She speaks, but so much of it doesn't connect to anything he understands. Space station he gets, because--

Meggido.

Nazca...!


His steps falter, and he has to hasten to clutch at her arm and shoulder to keep from pitching forward.

"Nazca," he echoes aloud, his eye going wide, expression fraught. "Did they escape...?!"
firstroar: (pic#6891944)

[personal profile] firstroar 2021-08-20 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Vocal, unchecked thoughts are nothing new to Blue. It's just peculiar how...lively they are, for someone who looks far older than a child untouched by the Mother computers. Human society where he's from strips its adult population of their personal memories, fogging them out and glossing them over with common notions of nostalgia. It creates a kind of synchronicity within the minds of humans he's known before...

No such vibration comes from the thoughts he picks up now in this room of shades and puppets. Moreover, when brought before someone who can hear his thoughts, his first reaction isn't a Mu! Kill it!

Curiouser and curiouser.

"...It does," Blue replies slowly, gauging the reaction to such.
adoube: (next right up)

fire in the hall(way)

[personal profile] adoube 2021-08-20 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sleep and stillness — a sum of particle-moments, motes of dust and the blinked violence of reassembling cognition. Lent to rest too long; he remembers himself, the cursory standard protocols to study the alien thing, his body, the negative deadened space of its surroundings.

Facts of the — cage, crystalline: colour (absent, white of him and white of the floor and white where his tongue hits teeth, slack), gravity (operational, uncalibrated), warmth (seeping in, the line of Dio's limbs flickered).

Emotions, dissonant: awake. (no; rewind; 'wakefulness' — state of his fleshly husk). Barrelling stiffness where his fingers claw (ache of inertia, sharpened) the flattened ground spread. Confusion (no; he exists. Knows the blood-toothed crepuscular edges of biological status quo; he exists, drenched in a sea of silence that crests to spume into — )

...irritation. Ah. There. Stoked like engine flame, explosive. Flowered. Dio's? But he's barely — please excuse, please excuse, summoning the dregs of his strength to coalesce into a working form, on hands and knees and his head tilted — he's barely awake.

No. Irritation, transferred, sourced in the shine of a man's sho — look up; nod — man's shoe, and in the traitor's stab of hungry sound to Dio's left, as something collides with his rib, and —

...it's not that Dio doesn't mean to swat the robot, exactly. Or to exert the great, groaning weight of his twig body until it curls around its steely hide, and gravity (a wonder, even uncalibrated) propels them both down in a convulsive tumble of man-boy-bot-squealing symbiote. It's in the aftermath, when the battle has been done and won and bled and gone, and the bot is a merciful victor, rolling back and forth inanely to hoover a collapsed Dio's stomach — it's then that Dio erupts in hiccuped laughter, waving first at himself, then at the man, then at their robot overlord. ]


We surrender! We surrender! Your highness, how do you do? Weeeeee surreeeeeeeeeendeeeeeeeeeeeer. Tooooo. Yoooooou. [ And softened, ferried the man's way with a wink: ] Tell it we surrender!
elbowroom: (Default)

10

[personal profile] elbowroom 2021-08-20 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know, I think it's kind of fun.

[Body modifications are nothing new to Jonesy. She already had colorful hair all over her body, hands in place of her feet, and no shortage of cybernetic enhancements. One would be hard-pressed to tell that she used to look like a normal human being.

Needless to say, she has an empty glass in her hand as well when she approaches the Doctor.
]

It sort of makes the whole thing feel like a twist on an old spy movie. Anyone could look like anything here, you know?

[As she says that, her simian-like ears morph and change shape before the doctor's eyes, turning into long, rabbit ears poking out the top of her head.]

The point of contention I have has more to do with the energy expenditure of this whole simulation. It seems like there would be better ways to achieve this without making everything physically appear to be a certain way.
squatmance: (you bet all in stride)

1.0 (a)

[personal profile] squatmance 2021-08-20 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[Look. Of all the things Quentin expected to see the next time he opened his eyes - if he opened them at all - an aggressive old man literally slapping his face was not among them. Maybe an idyllic field, or his dad, or just- nothing. So for a few moments, all he can do is gape and blink, before he chokes out: ]

What the fuck?

[On instinct, he swipes up at his attacker - hands, ideally, but he'd settle for face - and tries to scoot back. He gets nowhere fast, still disoriented and dizzy and wearing ancient sneakers worn down smooth as a seal against the metal floors.]
antisocials: (Default)

cal kestis | star wars jedi: fallen order

[personal profile] antisocials 2021-08-20 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
i. you're not BD!

[okay, cal is no stranger to the trilling and beeping of robots. he's got a companion of his own, after all, that's pretty much one of his closest friends.

hell, bee-dee is family.

the robot that's yelling at him is not beedee. which -- uh. where is bd-1?

cal scrambles from his spot in the hallway, disheveled and -- ow. his head. what happened? where is he. he's pretty sure that he hasn't been captured again but he really can't remember anything from the night before. there's a weird taste in his mouth of cheese and tomatoes, but that doesn't help.

the robot squeaks again and cal can't understand it. also not good. uh-- still, worth an ask so he kneels down to speak to it. if he's lucky, the screen will give some useful information? or someone will come by and either he'll figure out that he's not on safe territory or everything is fine. what could go wrong?]
Do you know where BD-1 is? Who are you working for, little guy?

iv. robot friend acquired, time to blow off some steam.

[cal's in the training room once he finds where bd's been hiding, making friends with some of the other robots and exploring the ship. not really hiding but socializing, the traitor.

beedee seems to be content to follow him once they're reunited, happy to give the report of what he's found and who he's met. cal's not been a friends and get to know folks most of his life, not too closely -- not when hiding, and that's a habit hard to shake even though he knows he has people now.

plus, he misses the familiar of the mantis over this ship. the size of this thing, though, that's nice. it's more spacious for sure. the training room is way better than anything they could fit into his quarters. hey, that's optimism. he's learning, you hear that, cere!

so he's utilizing that, going through some forms with his lightsaber. beedee's projecting an image of training sphere that he's following, because he hasn't explored enough to see if there's actually one of those here yet. that's what he needs pronto.

when he senses someone step into the room, well, instinct is to turn the saber to them before realizing this is a friend and not a foe.]
Hey! Uh.. whoops. Sorry. Hi. [lightsaber off, hands behind his back. smooth, cal, smooth.]

x. freaky friday, it's body swap time!

[the drink's pretty good, cal thinks as he sips it. not too sweet, not bad.

cal doesn't even notice, as he walks around the room that it does anything to him. his hearing is suddenly better but maybe the thing's affecting his ears and amplifying his ability to sense things; that's normal.

not weird.

he doesn't notice that he's got a new set of ears, resembling a fox's sticking from the top of his head. totally normal. wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened at this rate, really.

moving as carefully as he can, somewhat tense, cal notices someone he'd seen before they'd arrived at the location for the mission. he's sure they're from the ship.]
Hey. Uh, find anything? [go in with foolish confidence even if you haven't met yet? a bad idea? yeah, probably.]

[ooc: open to anything with this one!]

wild card.

[ooc: hit me up on this journal if you'd like something else!]