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raiamods ([personal profile] raiamods) wrote in [community profile] raiamemes2021-04-30 08:56 pm
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TDM 001


TEST DRIVE MEME 001 ❀
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore.

Please note: FOR THE FIRST 24 HOURS AFTER 'HATCHING', CHARACTERS WILL FEEL WEAK AND ANY POWERS THEY HAVE WILL NOT WORK.

Test drive meme threads can be considered game canon for players who are later accepted and wish to keep their CR. The rescue mission prompt will be a TDM-exclusive, but the other prompts that you see here will also appear on our first game log. There will, of course, be more going on that week.

Please reserve questions about consequences for altering or meaningfully investigating the setting for the first log of the game, where we will have a Mod Questions thread at the top of the log. On this test drive meme, please reserve this thread for clarification and setting questions.

On the first day of reserves (May 10th), only players who participate in the TDM will be allowed to reserve. You must link an AC-length thread from the TDM for early access. Starting on the 11th, any prospective player may submit a reserve. Our hope is that this will avoid overwhelming our reserves.

❀ HATCHING


Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.

Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.

The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?

Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.

The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.

A few notes:
☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning.

☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?

☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!

☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. The mods will not facilitate escape-plots/etc on test drive memes. However: if you app and are accepted you are more than welcome to chat with us about the possibility of having escaped or attempted it.

❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP

On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.

Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?

You're being allowed to mingle with the others. The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.

You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.

Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?

(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)

After a meal — it's hard to say which one you'd call it, since the whole crew is on rotating schedules — you may decide to wander the basecamp. Folks in every department could use a hand. Those willing to help out may get friendlier reception than those who play the tourist. For more info on what else you might find, check out the LOCATIONS page.

During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.

☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything they see that seems 'human made' will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.

☆ PCs will be warned about going beyond the shade of the dragon's wings. For the sake of the test drive mods will not be facilitating plots that deal with characters going further; we ask that players with an interest in exploring this wait until the game is fully open.

❀ RESCUE MISSION

"There's no time to waste," the woman says breathlessly as she grabs your arm. She pulls you to an augmented reality sand table and you will find yourself standing alongside some of the others you may recognize as having 'hatched' with you. There are murmurs by the Adamant's survivors as they pour over data. Maybe you remember Captain Childe from the stern interrogation she gave you a few days ago, but in any case but she's standing at the edge of the sand table looking at the distance scaled between the enormous huddle of HUD badges — the Adamant's survivors — and a tiny pocket of pulsing green some fifteen kilometers away.

"They knew better," Captain Childe says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "They should have been back hours ago."

"Fucking scientists," says a man with a faintly French accent. He is scarred and battle-worn, and looks properly pissed off. He's also sporting several fresh injuries, one of which seems to have warranted the use of a crutch. "They'd lose their heads if they weren't attached. Let them wait out the storm."

"No," the captain says. "They're too close to the Rat Nest. We don't need a repeat of —" she trails off, as if seeing you for the first time. She looks you up and down, and then: "You've been told by now that everyone here has to pitch in. If you know how to fight, be ready in ten minutes. You're our rescue squad." She turns and walks out, and there's an awkward moment where everyone present is looking at you to make a choice.

Ten minutes really isn't a lot of time to get ready to walk into danger. Or maybe you aren't a fighter. Maybe you just don't care. But either way, there are people looking to you. To see how you'll react. To see what you'll do. To see if you belong.

What'll it be, hatchling? Fight or flight? Maybe you ought to start coming up with a plan.

FIELD WORK

There's a cadre of scientists cut off by acid rain. From their last transmission, they were driven into the Rat Warrens — and you've been tasked with rescuing them. Too many members of the Security Team are themselves injured, and none of the remaining ones have experience leading a fire team. Let's hope you do — or at least that you can fake it.

Maybe you've hand-picked your team. Maybe you're just stuck with whoever else was closest. Either way, your companions are some of the people you might recognize as fellow 'hatchlings'. If you know them already — good, you've got a head start on what they might be capable of out in the field, and you can chat about the little things. You know, like the weather. Acid rain, gotta love it.

Either way. You're given few small slabs of surprisingly lightweight alloy that has a sheet of — is that hide from the Leviathan? — stretched across them, to divide up amongst your team. "Helps with the rain," Ensign Porter says, trying to sound cheerful despite the grim set to his jaw. "Just come back in one piece. I kinda feel responsible for you guys, you know?"

Before you know it, you're outfitted for the trip. Weapons (if you didn't have your own) and maybe some medical supplies, handed over with a grimace by Doc Sunya.

So then it's just you, your tiny team and a fifteen kilometer hike. Oh, and the acid rain. Luckily, the shields seem to be keeping it off, but it's hard to hear anything over the impact of the drops. Anyone want to play I never?

Or maybe you think you should make a break for it. This is your first time being outside the Leviathan unsupervised. You've got supplies, and other people with as little to lose here as you do. Maybe you should talk.

THE RAT WARREN

You've made it to the last transmitted location of the scientists. What you find doesn't bode well — one of them seemed to have an arm torn off — at least, you think it's an arm — the way it's been disintegrated by the rain makes it hard to tell.

One thing's certain, though. There are bloodstains leading into the nearby maw of a hole in the ground. There's a putrid odor wafting from it, and the sound of frantic scrabbling.

You have an idea of what might be down there. 'Giant rats with tentacles', Porter had said. Don't let the tentacles grab you, they leave chemical burns that usually result in amputation if they can't be treated immediately. But there's a chance the scientists are still alive, and you need to make your choice.

If you and your small team venture down into the darkness, what happens next is up to you. You'll be encountering hoards of these monsters. The scientists are still alive, but will they stay that way? And more importantly, can you get them back to the Leviathan in one piece?

PCs versus the local fauna, round one, FIGHT!

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to put player characters 'in charge' of the planning/logistics phase. If another PC tags into your thread, you and that player can decide which PC will be 'leading the charge'.

☆ Your character will have: a mini-railgun, a spear (if they don't have their items/weapons from home), a first-aid kit, the acid rain shields, ration bars (that are essentially condensed protein bars — they do not taste good) and one of the smartwatches, which will have a mini holographic HUD displayable on its interface. If your character is the sort to request other things, feel free to assume they received them (within reason — please remember that resource scarcity is the name of the game — feel free to be creative here!).

☆ There are fifteen kilometers to cover. If your character has an ability like superspeed/etc, please keep in mind it will work, but you also have your allies to consider. Normal walking time over this distance, given the difficulty of the environment (steep hills, acid rain, unknown territory, etc) would translate to several hours to an average person.

☆ Feel free to use the NPC scientists however you'd like. If you want your character to find some dead, you can. If you'd prefer they be rescued, that is also acceptable. These are essentially 'your' NPCs that you are using to facilitate the story at this point — the sky is the metaphoric limit!

❀ BOOZE

A week. You've been here for a week.

By now, you might have tried to venture out of Basecamp Leviathan and experienced firsthand the acid rains that the security officers warned you about. Or you might be teaching the kids at the schoolyard how to gamble. In any event, Thorkil seems to take pity on his disoriented new friends and taps his distillery for a little help.

Invitation passes by word of mouth to meet at the memorial wall. Moonshine of questionable quality is passed around in tin cups — hope no one's afraid of germs — as Thorkil explains the great relief it is to be gaining people instead of losing them. This settlement isn't big, and they aren't overburdened with hope or supplies, but there's been a lot of loss in the past three years. Some people might be willing to look at the arrival of these newcomers as a sign that things are turning around.

Bottoms up, hatchlings, and ... Happy Birthday?

A few notes:
☆ Feel free to turn this into an impromptu party. Maybe you're celebrating getting all the scientists back alive! Maybe it's something like a wake to remember them in the sad event of their passing. Either way, many of the engineers and other NPCs may join you in this moonlight drinking session, as well as whatever PCs you tag out to or are tagged by.)

❀ OBLIGATORY NETWORK


Welcome people of all kinds to Basecamp Leviathan! I'd give you a hand moving in except...

I have no hands.
Because I'm an AI.
Get it?
It's a joke.

My name is Cartagena. But anyway, this isn't about me or the Adamant for once. This is about all of you. So if you would kindly fill out the following questionnaire to get to know each other; it would also be very helpful for my systems.

NOTE: Participation is MANDATORY.

That was another joke. It's all voluntary. You people and your free will.

1. What is your name?
2. Where are you from?
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
5. How old are you?
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?

Thank you for your participation! Please enjoy the rest of your stay here at Basecamp Leviathan.


fossils: (Default)

steve rogers | marvel cinematic universe

[personal profile] fossils 2021-05-01 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
a.EXPLORE BASECAMP
[ After the hatching Steve can be found in the mess hall eating rations without complaint — even that godawful coffee only gets a small wince. Hasn't exactly been fine dining on the run, and his stomach can't tell the difference. They don't say hunger's the best spice for nothing.

There's an empty seat on one side, he'll offer it up if asked. Afterward he'll be found cleaning up some of the dishes, or at the Bunks, set up in a quiet corner darning a hole in a hammock.

Later in the evening he'll stop around the Memorial Wall, giving most other folks a wide berth. ]
b.THE RAT WARREN
Pull him back— !

[ Thud thud thud thud, a barrage of tentacles slam into the Leviathan hide Steve's holding up like a shield, positioned in front of a downed scientist. As the tentacles pull back to whip around again he jams his spear into the mutated rat's open maw, violently yanking it back out again to the sound of its screeching death throes. A flailing tentacle just barely grazes his arm, discoloring the fabric of his stealth suit where it touches.

A second rat charges, and he lifts his shield in time to block its body as it hurtles toward him.

Grab the scientist or offer up some cover fire, shrieks and scratching down from the darkness means there's at least one more coming. ]
c.BOOZE
All yours.

[ He offers up the tin cup in his hand to the next person, passed to him before he could refuse. Gives a one shouldered shrug and tips his head. No point in wasting the stuff on him given how everything's in short supply. ]
d.WILD CARD
Don't see anything that works? Feel free to hit him up with another prompt!
striker: (pic#6615097)

Herc Hansen ∆ PacRim

[personal profile] striker 2021-05-01 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
∆∇ HATCHING

Dying is easy. It's something he's known all his life, he didn't need the Kaiju to drive that one home. What he has no scope or frame of reference for is living again, coming to in a wash of what could be Chuck's worst attempt at scrambled eggs and struggling, gasping for air.

He's had worse days by a narrow margin. Better ones, too. Ones that didn't see him with the point of a spear jabbing fiercely into his clavicle, ones that didn't involve being hustled off to a cage, ones that didn't involve too-quick showers and too-long interrogation settings. Ones that didn't involve being stared at trying to piss in a bucket.

Training accounts for a lot of things, but not the desperate worry of a parent. After one of the other prisoners has been brought back from a round of questioning, Herc leans into their space. "Looking for a boy named Chuck. Seen him?"



∆∇ FIELD WORK/RAT WARREN


Out of the fucking pan and all the rest that goes with it. He's been here less than a week and he's already knee-deep in monsters of a different sort. Not the monstrous levelers of cities that he's familiar with, but a monster's a monster. These ones are killing people just the same and even a million lightyears away from the only home he's ever known he can't leave people in the lurch. He'd like to think that's human nature, that ability to step into danger when the need presents itself.

He nudges your shoulder as you walk. "Best look out for each other, yeah? Going gets tough, I'll have your back."



∆∇ NETWORK

He stares at the questionnaire blankly for a solid minute. It's the sort of thing that's so frivolous that he almost forgot it used to be a trend on the Facebook of old, and it's that nostalgia tugging at the edge of his awareness that makes him thumb over to the keyboard and, bemusedly, reply:

1. Hercules Hansen, PPCD.
2. Earth. Sydney, Australia.
3. Air before a storm. The way the ozone crackles and the sky seems to breathe it all in. Sorry, can't describe it any better than that.
4. Humans are animal enough, eh?
5. Damn sight old enough.
6. Suppose so.
sunmon: (Default)

alina starkov (shadow & bone - spoilers!)

[personal profile] sunmon 2021-05-01 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
01. midnight in the garden of evil
[ they pull people out, one by one, as if they'll have more to say if they're alone, as if they'll know any more about what's going on here. alina sits in the corner of the cell, knees pulled to her chest. she's no stranger to cells, but there aren't enough places to hold all of the people who'd come out of those eggs, so they've been thrown in here together. cramped.

her heart hammers in her chest. she feels as weak and sickly as she had in keramzin, before the fold, before the little palace. and she hates it. she holds up her hand in front of her, staring into her palm, fingers tense like claws, but no light comes when she calls.

the next time one of the security officers comes to the cell, alina gets to her feet.
] Where are you taking them? When are you going to tell us what's going on?

[ but the guard isn't here for alina, so she doesn't answer. one person stumbles back into the holding block, and one stumbles out. ​]


02. you go first
[ by the time they're set loose to the rescue mission, it's hard not to feel like the expendables, sent out because they're the ones the adamant's crew won't miss. alina knows what that looks like. she goes only because it's dark by the time the crew fails to check in, an if this goes on too long, the people who are in her same position will be glad to have a grisha with them.

despite the smother of darkness around them, she does not try to make light again. she does not need to give them one more reason not to trust her.

that's how she winds up holding the edge of the dragon hide shield overhead to block the rain, staring off into the distance and wondering how far she could make it with just her knife. she doubts she'd be able to block the rain on her own, and its incessant drumming makes it hard to think.
]

Do you think there are other leviathans? [ she's squinting, trying to make out the horizon. ] Maybe some other part of the planet, where the rain isn't like this.


03. hello my name is
1. Alina Starkov
2. Keramzin, Ravka
3. Wildflowers. I guess it's a lot of different smells. They're not quite sweet. Kind of airy. And they itch your nose.
4. I think I'd like to be a falcon. You get to soar over everything and have very few natural predators.
5. 20.
6. I guess?


04. wildcard
[ hit me up with a prompt related to one of the test drive prompts. expect alina to keep to herself, quiet and mistrustful. her canonpoint is during the winter fete! so there will be spoilers at least that far, and her icons have spoilers through the end of the series. ]
Edited 2021-05-01 04:43 (UTC)
restoral: ([famira]gu0QOfT)

Bucky Barnes | MCU

[personal profile] restoral 2021-05-01 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
HATCH
[ Bucky had tried to fight once he'd been out of the egg, but his limbs had felt as much like jello as the disgusting goop he'd been covered in. Being dragged and threatened like that reminds him all too well of coming out of cryostasis. His heart beats in his chest, but no amount of struggle gets him anywhere.

From there, he's put in a cell to stew and stew he does. Fighting his way out isn't an option right now, but that doesn't mean he's giving them anything when they question him. He's had practice since starting his court-mandated therapy and he only gives short, clipped answers with a saccharine smile. He eats the starchy paste, because he's eaten worse, and he takes the short showers, because it's better than nothing.

When he sees a new face, he stares. It might be unnerving, but he'll give a little wave if eye contact is made.
]

EXPLORE
[ When Bucky's told that he's not an active threat, he almost laughs, but he's not sure if it comes from a place of doubt or relief to be seen like that. They're wrong, of course, but Bucky isn't looking to be an active threat right now.

The basecamp is bare bones in a lot of way, but Bucky's not worried about that. His apartment back on Earth had been pretty empty, anyway, and he's not sure if anyone other than his therapist or Sam will notice he's gone. A pang when he thinks about Sam, the only person who's likely to actually miss him. At least Bucky knows Sam will be fine without him.

After his first couple of meals, he starts to look around the camp more. There's still a baseline worry in the back of his head that he is dangerous and that there could be some ulterior motive to whatever brought him here, but there's only so much information to be gathered.

He pauses at the armory, curious enough to ask a few light questions and smart enough to leave it at that.

His next stop is the baths, but he doesn't undress. Luxuries can come later, but it's nice to know it's there if everything doesn't go to hell first.

Finally, he perches himself on a large rock just outside the Leviathan but still under the shade it provides. Just outside the basecamp, he's able to find a moment to clear his head without wandering off far enough to do anything stupid. That's for tomorrow. Today, he'll just listen until he hears footsteps coming.
]

Sneaking up on me?

RESCUE
[ Bucky's happy to help, but being asked to go out and help people leaves something swelling in his chest. Nerves, he tells himself, but maybe it's something else. For a long time he's been stuck fighting just to survive. Before that, it had been violence at the orders of HYDRA. He's not sure if he remembers what it feels like to really do much else, but he's not going to say no to the order. It's the first thing that's felt half-right since he left Wakanda.

With nothing but a railgun and a rain-shield, Bucky feels somehow both under-equipped and over-equipped at the same time. As they prepare to leave, he doesn't really take in the faces around him, but he regrets that once they're moving through the weather. He's not even sure who among them might know how to fight, but he does eye someone who looks like maybe their weapon doesn't look entirely at home in their hands and he moves closer to keep an eye. He also tries to get an eye on who else looks ready to fight. By the time they've found where the scientists should be, he's ready to go into danger.
]

Who else is coming?

NETWORK
1. James
2. Brooklyn
3. I can't describe fresh rain to someone without a nose
4. wolf
5. 106
6. it was painless


WILDCARD
[ Feel free to hit me with something else or check in with me at [plurk.com profile] blauren. ]
ketterdam: (pic#14849108)

kaz brekker | shadow and bone

[personal profile] ketterdam 2021-05-01 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
book familiar+show specific (will mark for any spoilers that arise, please do the same) pm me if you'd like a custom starter or would like to hash something out! starters appended so i'm not smacking anyone in the teeth with a hugeass text box bc i, uh, i got wordy.
morozova: [ used with permission ] (pic#14857532)

the darkling | shadow & bone - spoilers possible

[personal profile] morozova 2021-05-01 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
⬗ ⎯ BASECAMP
( three days spent in a cell has left the darkling with much to consider. he has no idea where he is — the names the locals have shared mean nothing to him — or how he came to be here. that his hosts appear to have no answers offers him little by way of comfort.

still, after days of confinement, he's more than happy to take advantage of his freedom. the fastest way to find answers is to seek them out, himself.

which is how he eventually ends up at the memorial wall. the names on the wall mean nothing to him, much like they hadn't in novokribirsk. but it's clear that they'd meant something to someone. )


So many lives lost. ( perhaps he heard your approach or perhaps he's just musing idly. regardless, he turns from the wall to study you. ) How long, do you think, before they add more?

( more than that, what else is being kept from them? )


⬗ ⎯ RESCUE MISSION
( they really must be desperate.

but then he can't fault their logic, either. with resources strained, it makes sense that they would send out anyone they could stand to lose. not that this bodes particularly well for the lost scientists. with no ties to this place and its people, there's really nothing keeping them all from running.

not that he plans on doing that — well, not yet.

they're at a sufficient distance from the base camp — and, by the saints, is that a dragon? — before he'll hazard, tone idle: )
What could possibly be worth such risk?


⬗ ⎯ NETWORK
1. Aleksander Kirigan.
2. Os Alta, Ravka, most recently.
3. Snowfall. And it's really more of an absence of smell. The air turns crisp and still. Everything feels new. Fresh. Full of endless possibilities.
4. A black bear, perhaps. They're curious creatures. Patient.
5. I'm as old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth.
6. It was certainly diverting.


⬗ ⎯ WILDCARD
( have an idea? feel free to hit me up on [plurk.com profile] resurrectionist or via pm! canon point is ep 07: "the unsea", just after killing the stag. i'll mark any spoilers. )
Edited 2021-05-01 05:20 (UTC)
freightcars: (208)

Bucky Barnes | F&TWS

[personal profile] freightcars 2021-05-01 05:16 am (UTC)(link)
the hatchening

( Some time between the shells, the shower, and the interrogation, Bucky Barnes can be found posted up in a cell. He doesn't look particularly panicked by the situation, nor excessively disturbed over having hatched his way here. If anything, he looks a little annoyed — inconvenienced, even. Positively resigned and put-upon.

He sits reclined back against the wall, man-spreading, elbows on the rest behind him and arms (metal and all) hanging lazily down. If he catches someone looking at him, he won't even shift position. He just dryly, tonelessly asks:
)

First time?


i am the brute squad

( How is it he's here less than a week and he's already fighting? Here he was, minding his own business, on his way to get some delicious terrible gravy protein slop, and the next thing you know he's in a war room staring down at a damn battle map.

You're our rescue squad.

Never before has a man looked more like he's rolling his eyes without ever actually rolling his eyes.
)

Of course I am.

( But he recognizes the need to pull his weight here, he's got to justify all the not-insignificant rations they're letting him shovel down to almost-kind-of satisfy his metabolism, so. Here he is, armed and strapped and ready to roll out.

Catch him:
→ holding a shield over somebody before acid rain hits them
→ squatting down to examine a fallen arm, to ballpark how recently it was severed
→ catching a tentacle mid-air with a metal hand before it can wrap around someone
→ dragging someone injured out, or carrying them over his shoulder
)


sorry, I was texting

1. What is your name?
Bucky

2. Where are you from?
Earth
Brooklyn

3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
are you kidding me
is this seriously what we're doing right now
we're on a god damn alien planet and we just hatched out of giant eggs

apple pie or clean laundry
it's a toss-up

4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
apparently there are dragons now so
seems stupid to aim lower

5. How old are you?
106

6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?
unsubscribe


wild card

( hit me! canon point is ep 2 of falcon & the winter soldier )
Edited 2021-05-01 05:21 (UTC)
mylawn: (pic#10433702)

76 | overwatch

[personal profile] mylawn 2021-05-01 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
i. a nice egg in this trying time
[Who has two thumbs and is not having a nice time? This guy, who is currently being forced into the cell you are currently in. He’s clearly trying his very best to put up a fight, despite being entirely too old for this, completely disoriented, and not in any kind of state to throw hands. Still, he throws hands regardless, even as the holding cell door more-or-less slams in his face. In an apparent last-ditch effort to improve his situation, he outright body-checks it, or attempts to, given his current physical state. He still manages something of an inhuman snarl, a sound more befitting of a caged animal than anything else. Very pleasant.

Having exhausted all his options, his next course of action is to wheel around a little woozily, taking in the rest of the cell. 76 had obviously hoped to spot an exit. He is clearly disappointed, and possibly enraged by what he sees instead.
]

Who the hell are you supposed to be?

[That’s you. You better tell him who the hell you’re supposed to be! Also he’s still covered in goo and it’s gross.]
ii. field work
[Generally speaking, 76 is still wrapping his mind around being on an alien planet—back home, they’d only made it as far as the moon, and it hadn’t exactly ended well. What is familiar is a gun in his hand and a team and an objective, which means he can compartmentalize all of his feelings about the current state of things and focus on the mission. It’s what he’s good at, after all.

That said, it doesn’t take a particularly brilliant tactical mind to figure out what's happened here. The trail of blood and the hole in the ground says it all, and he finds himself groaning behind his visor.
]

Well, someone's gotta go first.

[The joke is that he will certainly go first. It's possible he's just trying to see if there's anyone here with more of a death wish than him.]
iii. booze
[Even the booze here is terrible! Not that 76 cares, really. The thing about having been around the block is that he can almost always say he’s had worse, and despite three days of being treated like a threat (which, fair—he did try to throw hands a few times), and horrible alien rat monsters, this is probably not the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. The interplanetary kidnapping is new, but 76 knows how to keep his head down and operate as part of a military outfit. After the business with the scientists, the survivors of the Adamant owe him a lot more than a drink, at this point.

He’s content to “enjoy” it by himself, but makes a concentrated effort not to scare away anyone happens to wander into his general vicinity. Easier said than done.
]

Here.

[You look like you could use it, maybe. He’s holding out a cup in your direction, though it isn’t offered without caveat.]

It’s bad.
iv. network
[He could just leave it alone—that would be the best course of action, really, given that he’s on a strange planet full of strange people, he’s been integrated into an unknown military organization, and this is a strange AI. Better to stay off the network entirely and be as much of a non-entity as possible, at least until he has more of a handle on the situation. That would be the smart thing to do.

But 76 is powerless and frustrated, and the thought of being even a little bit of a thorn in someone’s side makes him feel a little more in control.
]

1. N/A
2. N/A
3. N/A
4. N/A
5. N/A
6. 2/10


[Take that, you…survey…]
v. wildcard
[I will do anything you want just come at me.]
trassel: (Default)

matthias helvar | shadow & bone

[personal profile] trassel 2021-05-01 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
a friendly wake-up call

[ The attempt to resist is — later, when alone, he admits — half-hearted. Matthias only takes up one corner of the cell. The slime is cleaned off silent and systematic. He speaks to no one, offering only a name, if asked. Time enough in the past few weeks has been devoted to struggling through the snow — at least less endurance is asked of him now. ]

[ He's not that good at being patient — the bio-breaks or the shower afford little means of determining how vast this place is, and what strangeness has him hearing Fjerdan. Though, all things do end. The moment they ask questions, he asks his own in turn, and the answers are — not satisfying. And yet no one can make them ring of lies, and no one holds him back when he cuts Trass out of the egg, feeling his friend's huff of warm breath, and the slick of it on his fur. ]

[ They're inseparable, after that. ]

[ At least Trass makes friends easily. Sit at the table anywhere within Matthias' line of sight and a massive white wolf with a prominent scar over his right eye may prowl towards you, curiously, interested in what you're eating. ]

[ ooc: matthias can also be found in the armoury, looking at the railguns, the bunks, where Trassel needs a bit more space, and the gymnasium. Please feel free to prompt with these locations and I can write up something for you. ]

field work

Is this your first time outside?

[ The question is brusque, almost unfriendly if not for the fact that matthias is looking over his partner for the expedition with keen interest, especially if you're carrying a railgun. He himself appears to have only a large knife. ]

network, audio

[ Annoyed, after some fiddling, ]

What is this meant to do?

[ Not used to the weight and feel of it, equipment as necessary as a knife and irks him to adjust to. So someone wasn't interested in reading, oop ]

[ A beat, and then, a curious, ]

How did it keep talking?

wildcard!

[ ooc: if none of these work, happy to write up anything else. i will default to no spoilers but be warned they may come up. ]
tridential: (pic#14867913)

Finnick Odair (thg)

[personal profile] tridential 2021-05-01 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
basecamp.

[At first, he thinks it's an Arena. Instinct takes over when someone levers a weapon at him, and he fights. When you've lived alongside fear long enough you can weather it like a storm on the ocean, and he's a strong swimmer. Act first. Worry about the rest in the quiet moments that come between thunderclaps.

But no one kills him when they fight him down to the ground. There's no knife at his throat, no bullet in the head. No one asks about alliances, no one recognizes him. His face hasn't been his own since he was a boy. The cage is almost a relief. Better than other places he could be taken.

Finnick passes time by tapping a rhythm into the bars and when they take him out for questioning he is all smiles and winsome charm, and then when they step into a private room the first thing he does is wrap his arm around the throat of his jailer and squeeze.

(He doesn't talk. Where are you from, who are you, what are you doing here? He doesn't talk. He thinks about sugar melting on the tongue, about fish hooks, about dying in a lightless place)

He's taken back to the cage. When he's released days later, given his weapons, his belongings he spends his time disassembling everything. He doesn't know what he's looking for. Something. Something. A tracker in the haft of the trident. Poison. He thinks about mutts, and shudders. Keeps his back to every wall.

Tries, sometimes, to step into the man he'd been in the Capitol. Function over form. He looks for Annie in the sea of faces. He looks for Katniss. Johanna. Anyone. He's felt this alone once before, on the train back from his victory tour.

He repairs nets. Eats in the mess hall. He feels invisible, anonymous. Someone asks his name and he can't reply.

He doesn't track the days. Just knows that on one of them, he gets up and sits down in the mess hall across from someone he's never seen.]


Could use a bit of salt, don't you think?


network | anon

If you could redo a day in your life, would you?

[Idle question. Useless, really. But he isn't going to answer the AI's questions, and he isn't going to announce himself, and he doesn't want to talk while simultaneously recognizing that he's craving human connection, even this bastardized version of it.

So he compromises. He can still deal in secrets, even here.]
recursive: (1)

yuuta okkotsu | jujutsu kaisen

[personal profile] recursive 2021-05-01 07:14 am (UTC)(link)
( ooc: i will conform to either brackets or prose! )

i. return to the scene of the slime
( ever since he had managed to struggle through his enervation and fumble his way through the thin membrane of the alien egg he'd awoken in (and subsequently been dragged off to alternating confinement and interrogation for a few days), he'd wanted to go back. with such a bizarre occurrence, of course he wanted to have another look around. after days of being questioned, all he has are questions, and none of them were getting satisfactorily answered just wandering around through the camp. where are they? how did they get there — and why did it involve a big, gooey eggsack? for what purpose were they here in the first place?

really, yuuta doesn't expect to find much, but it seems as good a place as any to begin.

dried blue ooze coats the floor; he is careful in the placement of each of his footsteps as he makes his way back into the central chrysalis, and it seems he isn't the only one who had this idea. going off what little he remembers from his strained few minutes here on ethyraia, he's made his way back to the egg he'd woken up in, and someone else is investigating the same space. actually — someone else is picking up something which makes yuuta's eyes go wide. )


Ah - excuse me? ( the item in question that you are holding is a katana, encased in both a sheath and a case which could be slung over one shoulder. ) That's mine. So, if you wouldn't mind...

( feel free to doubt him. this kid looks like a stiff breeze would snap him in two. )

ii. rodents of unusual size
a. ( when forming the rescue team, yuuta had silently fallen into rank, seemingly not the type to try to shoulder the mantle of leader. as soon as they arrive to the location of the research team's last whereabouts, however, he shoulders past the other squad members as soon as he sees the first injured man. he takes a knee alongside him, murmuring some questions and assuaging words to him as he grisly sight of what had once been an arm and shoulder. he keeps speaking to him as he lifts a right hand to the wound — anyone nearby with any affinity for magic or the supernatural might see it wreath in bluish-black energy which he applies to the space. it doesn't do anything as miraculous as grow his arm back, but it does staunch the bleeding and begin to knit together the mess of degraded flesh.

to stabilize the injured man was yuuta's priority first and foremost, and when he feels he's done what he can to prevent him from any immediate further injury or death, he stands and returns to the rest of the group. on the way here, there hadn't been much to him or his presence — it wouldn't be odd to think him a fool to come along at all, based on appearance alone — but with the dire situation at hand, his mien changes. he grows serious and, honestly, a little uncanny. )


Going in there without any plan could wind up only putting the scientists in more danger. ( and if that's the case, why had they even come all the way out here? )

b. ( so what does one do in the aftermath of the big fight, valiantly endeavoring to save a group of wayward scientists from certain, bloody death at the teeth (and tentacles?) of a massive colony of space rats?

well, you figure out how to get back in one piece. the road out here had been long, and now that they had to return — through the same acid rain that had stranded these researchers out here in the first place and now with many among their number injured or unable to walk — that road seemed to stretch longer still. with the recovering group huddled under the shelter of an overhanging crag, yuuta studies the people and their supplies with his hand at his chin, mentally working out potential solutions. unfortunately, there aren't many that are terribly satisfactory. even the riskiest plans would still mean slow going returning to the leviathan. )


Rigging some stretchers for those who can't walk would be best, but I don't think we have enough rain shields to protect that kind of surface area... ( it might seem at first that he's just talking to himself, but then he turns to you to rope you into this deliberation. ) It's either that or we carry them on our backs, but that would make it even harder to get around. What do you think?

( leaving them behind doesn't seem to be an option to yuuta. )

iii. wildcard
( anything not encompassed above! feel free to pm me if you want to discuss or work anything out. )
dissemblance: (pic#14842216)

natasha romanoff | mcu (does anyone still care about endgame spoilers??)

[personal profile] dissemblance 2021-05-01 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙

not her first alien planet. given the way her week is going, probably not her last. she hits the ground running, because the problem with having a purpose is that it doesn't go away just because you've died. thanos left vormir without his daughter, they'd all assumed dead. but she isn't. she draws breath. has a pulse. pinching herself sure didn't do anything out of the ordinary.

she has a list of priorities born of ruthless precision, but spiders are patient by their nature. something about good things and those who wait.

she minds her p's and q's. plays nice. she considers lying, when they ask her name. decides, ultimately, that she died natasha romanoff, and she deserves to belong to herself in whatever comes after.

natasha slings a leg over the bench to straddle it and takes a seat beside a stranger. she studies their plate a moment and then, in a conspiratorial whisper:


I'm pretty sure my broccoli's bigger. Wanna swap?

these are some pretty sad vegetables, honestly.


 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘

all business. there are places where a spy beats a soldier, but the battlefield? she knows which she prefers. she moves with purpose, shield slung over her shoulder not unlike a certain someone of her acquaintance, and a bag slung crosswise on her body. ammunition — what could be spared, anyway.

You know, for a murderous planet full of things that want to kill us, you have to admit there's nothing wrong with that view.

it's said lightly with a sideways look at her companion. does she mean the sky? the dragon? the weird plants? who knows.


 𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 @𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑒𝑣𝑠𝑘𝑦

Anyone want to trade 'venomous rat tail' for 'carnivorous plant spores'? I've almost got an an alien planet bingo. It'd really make my day.

irreverent? sure. but it's not every day you come back from the dead.

there's a repeating frequency embedded in her message, heavily encoded. the frequency itself sounds a little like dance of the cygnets. what lies beneath it, though, needs a cipher to crack. a day in the life of ivan denisovich, a copy helpfully provided by the smartwatch's impressive library. the combination of letters and words otherwise all but meaningless. anyone who takes the time to figure it out will find themselves looking at a message that simply says 'HELLO MCFLY — HOW WAS PROM? ;)'



wildcard me, pm for a starter, world's our oyster, etc.
Edited 2021-05-01 07:32 (UTC)
cryptoherpetology: (073)

Alex Price | InCryptid

[personal profile] cryptoherpetology 2021-05-01 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
Cracking the Egg

For someone who's bred countless animals that hatch from eggs, Alex doesn't actually connect that that's what he's doing until he's on the floor, wiping goo out of his eyes which do not have his glasses in front of them. That's a bigger problem for his vision than the goop- which, to be honest, while gross, isn't the most disgusting thing he's been covered in. Between the gun in his face being fuzzier than it should be and feeling like his body weighs about four times as much as it should, there's not a lot he can do to avoid the containment cell.

He's quiet when locked up, though clearly actively listening to what everyone around him is saying. There's no use in trying to fight something before he has any idea what it is- or where he is, for that matter.

On the third day, he's getting really tired of squinting. When someone sits down next to him, he can't help but blurt out:]


What do you think the chances of there being an optometrist here are?

Field Work

[Thank god someone had thought to look in the egg he'd broken out of for his glasses, and that he'd opted for the scratch-proof coating when he'd last gotten his prescription updated. "You might fall into a new reality and be expected to pull your weight" hadn't been on his mind at the time, but with his family and his luck, it wouldn't be too outlandish if he had.

Maybe that's why he seems to be taking all the strangeness of this world in stride. In stride doesn't mean blasé, though- he's using his smartwatch to record dictated field notes about the terrain, the rate of the acid rainfall, and thoughts on what kind of wildlife would live in an ecosystem like this. It has the benefit of keeping him aware of his surroundings while also providing him with a security blanket of sorts in the form of the life sciences. Nothing around him is familiar, he's on a different world, but the scientific method still works exactly the same way.

He does, eventually, realize that he should probably talk to the other people there instead of his future self.]


These scientific field teams clearly need better training if they're coming out here often. My grandmother always said to treat filed work like going to war; eat when you can, sleep when you can, and don't get any drunker than anyone around you.

I don't think these people have met my grandmother. [He's not ruling it out though. Alice Healy-Price's trips around the backroads of the multiverse are frequent enough to have gained her something of a reputation in the right (and wrong) circles.]

Rat Warren

[Oh thank god, something familiar. Not that he's seen creatures like this before exactly, but shooting at things that look like escaped science experiments while they try to maul and eat everything around them? He's in his element here.

He counted out his ammunition on the walk over, and is counting each shot that he squeezes off, getting better at predicting the movements of the creatures the longer he watches them, and methodically clears out a path to one of the injured scientists.]


Go [He reloads while he says it.] I'll keep them off you as much as I can, but be careful at that half-bend, I won't have a clear shot until you're past that rock there.
unclesam: (Default)

Sam Wilson | MCU / FATWS (post series, beware spoilers)

[personal profile] unclesam 2021-05-01 08:29 am (UTC)(link)

❖ 1. Base Camp

I spy with my little eye...

[ He mutters it casually to whoever's nearby, and how he finishes depends entirely on where you meet him. Generally speaking, he makes himself useful just about everywhere, helping with an odd task here and there, in a thinly veiled attempt at getting the lay of the land. The good-natured talk and friendly approach is genuine, but beyond that the eyes dart around, gathering what information Sam can glean from his surroundings. Taking the measure of the situation, trying to get a read on people.

The following options are what he says depending on where you happen to run into him:

At the aid station: '... way too few supplies.'
In the mess hall: '... the end of all joy.'
Outside, under the dragon's wing and taking in the surroundings: '... something red.'
In the Central Chrysalis, while unearthing a striking shield and matching gear from one of the eggs: '... the jackpot!']

❖ 2. Field Work

[ Speeches are a thing with the job, Sam's coming to realize. He'd always kind of assumed it was just a Steve Rogers thing, but no. No, it's definitely fine printed somewhere in the job description. You don the stars and stripes, you are contractually obligated to find yourself in situations in which motivational speeches are required.

Thankfull, this is part of his pre-avenger skillset. Well, the rescue mission briefing is, at least.

So he lays it out simple, firm but kind, especially for those who look a little spooked, a little green behind the ears. Prioritize saving lives, always, do not chase kills, do not go at it alone, have your partners' backs.

Sam's good at keeping his own mood and energy up on the way to the rescue site. Still some check-ins have to be made en route, in case they encountered wounded survivors or get hurt themselves: ]


So on a scale of 'can't thread a needle' to 'neurosurgeon', how good you gonna be with that first aid kit?

❖ 3. Rat Warren

On your six!

[ The tunnels aren't big enough to fully unfold the metal wings on his back, but Sam's fought in tight quarters before, and he's athletic enough to make use of those surroundings. Flipping over a person with a short boost from the jetpack on his back, Sam plants himself firmly between the wounded, unconscious scientist, a member of his team, and the Roden of Unusual Size bearing down on them.

What? He's seen that movie. He's got a sister. Shut up.

The thing barrels into the shield hard, and Sam's wings don't unfurl so much as slam down and into the ground like sharp beams, anchoring him in place and able to brace against the onslought, greedy tentacles trying to lick around the edges of the shield, claws scraping over its surface. ]


Get them clear!

[ He's not moving until the wounded are out of dodge. Do that, or help him dispatch the small group of rats that are about to join the fray. ]

❖ 4. Network

1. Sam
2. Earth. Louisiana.
3. Summer rain on grass, a breeze over open water. Ain't poetic enough for more.
4. This feels like a trap designed to get me to say 'falcon'. Let's go with 'if it flies, it's dope, unless it's a wasp, them fuck it'.
5. Too old for this shit.
6. Would have been better with 6 fewers questions.


❖ 5. Wildcard / Plotting

[ Feel free to throw me a pm or contact me on [plurk.com profile] inkcharm, or just hit me with any other prompt. ]
webshoots: (( mask ) i'll be honest)

peter parker, marvel

[personal profile] webshoots 2021-05-01 08:48 am (UTC)(link)
—hatching
[ it's fair, peter thinks, to say that this is weird. like, objectively speaking, because he knows weird, capital-W. he and it are intimately acquainted, but the question is: where does this sit on the list of 'top five strange and unusual situations peter parker has found himself in'? he's tempted to say it's just shy of top five, because there's a veritable list of WeirdTM that peter's lived (quote-unquote) through and would really rather not experience again.

there had been a moment, somewhere between the (only slightly, thanks) desperate punching of what turned out to be an — egg and not another two week burial in soil and the futile attempt to wipe away blue goo-slash-goop-slash-snot-slash-birthing fluids, question mark, where he'd been filled with the feeling — moreso than the thought — that he was never going to be clean again.

then there had been another moment, one where he'd taken a breath to really try and come to terms with the, you know, everything of the everything — he didn't need to ask about not being in new york anymore, because see: everything — but he hadn't really expecting to have spears pointed at him (wasn't rebirthing supposed to be a momentous, celebratory moment?)—

—eh, no, the spear pointing was, on reflection, probably the most familiar part of the equation.

and dealing with it would have been a lot easier if he hadn't felt so tired. so groggy. so much the human embodiment of:

'you slept, but you did it wrong'.

so finding himself in a holding cell with other, equally "and we thought we'd dress up as ian holm as ash for halloween" is not the weirdest part of the equation.

but like, it's still kinda weird, y'know? day in the life of, blah blah blah. ]


—D'you think it's durian fruit? [ solid ice breaker. ]


—new number, innit

@parker

Oof, I think we're all operating on different definitions of the word 'joke'.

Also: if anyone finds some red slippers in the lost and found, let me know. I think I dropped them somewhere around the first exit-right of Earth.


—wildcard
( for i am a tired, old lady. if you wanna do something else: that cool. if you wanna hmu to discuss doing something else: that cool too. send me a pm! )
Edited 2021-05-01 08:51 (UTC)
bestaround: (pic#)

9S • nier: automata

[personal profile] bestaround 2021-05-01 10:49 am (UTC)(link)
ONE; hatching
[ This is, without a doubt, the grossest 9S has ever felt in his life.

Not that it does much to dampen his current irritation. He gets tossed into a cell—and not without one of the few who handled him here grumbling about how a scrawny looking kid could be so heavy—and despite how coated he is in slime, is quick to get back up and start pounding at the door with a fist. The exit is locked tight, refusing to budge. ]


Hey! Get the hell back here and let me out!!

[ Have the misfortune of sharing a cell? Maybe you ought to tell him to chill out. ]

TWO; basecamp
[ When 9S is handed a tray of mystery slop, he's hardly able to get a word in to explain he doesn't need anything to eat. The one going around serving those like him, however, is busy and just wants to get their work done, so he's left with... well, mystery slop. Maybe he could at least try it... but nothing about the meal provided looks appetizing at all.

Curiously, 9S inspects the piece of broccoli, turning it between two fingers; although there's what seems to be a black piece of cloth wrapped around his face, apparently it does little to hinder his eyesight. If someone takes a seat nearby, he'll look back up. ]


... You want any of this?

THREE; the rat warren
[ The smears of red trailing down into the large opening is neither a good nor welcoming sight. With a grimace, 9S pauses a short distance away from the edge, attempting to peer down from his position—but no such luck. There's nothing to see, but there's a lot to smell.

And so, he glances over his shoulder to whoever has accompanied—or, most likely, lead—him all this way. ]


You don't have to go down there.

[ This short statured kid, however? Totally ready (okay, more like reluctantly ready) to go in your stead. At least he's got a bronze colored katana floating at his backside, so he isn't completely unprepared. ]

OBLIGATORY WILDCARD
( slap down your own prompt, tweak any of the above, whatever I'm easy! feel free to pm if you'd like to plot something out. )
nonscriptum: no, just really jaded (am I shocked?)

Nathan Drake ◆ Uncharted

[personal profile] nonscriptum 2021-05-01 11:47 am (UTC)(link)
HOLDING HELL CELL
[ This would not be the first time that Nathan Drake has woken up in strange and unsavory circumstances. It wouldn't even be the tenth, if he was really being honest with himself, but the egg came as a surprise. One minute he's listing into an alcohol-induced sleep on a planet that doesn't feel like it's really his anymore, with few people left to make it worthwhile, and the next he's sucking in a mouthful of blue raspberry-colored slime before he can even manage to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen.

The welcome wagon was less friendly than he'd hoped, too, and any and all attempts at informing them that no, really, it's cool, he’s done this before and can you put down the spear fell upon deaf ears.

It's fine. He's been in prison before and this is no different except for everything about it. There’s little indication of release on the first day and the forced incarceration has him probing at fellow "inmates" in the holding area, or helpfully passing a mostly-dry towel to the person next to him.
]

You know, I was in a Turkish prison one time for about three months? They made us all share the same bucket. This is like the Ritz by comparison.


THE NEW NORMAL
[ A little unanticipated doctor visit that garnered some questioning looks, a fashionable new (old) set of clothes, and he feels a lot more himself - if not completely back to normal. At this point Nate would be shocked if anything turned out to be as simple as dying. When you've been given this many chances it's hard not to think the universe has something out for you, and his erstwhile interrogators seemed fairly alarmed at his blasé approach to the whole thing. Turns out "oh, no, this is my third time being world-napped" is a controversial statement.

He stops being so careless with his statements after that. It's difficult enough adjusting without a friendly face in sight, more so with the prospect of (frankly) unappetizing food on the table, which is about as lackluster a meal as anyone can get. In the mess hall he poses deep philosophical questions-
]

So...do I wanna know what's in this?

[ -and grabs a cup of the worst coffee he's ever tried in his life, which is really saying something, because, prison. ]

Oh, God. Juan Valdez is rolling in his grave.

[ The rest of the Adamant's base camp he actually enjoys exploring, wandering through various areas aimlessly before realizing the side-eye he's earning is a little much, and subsequent efforts to make himself useful seem to garner more goodwill. In the armory he can be found loudly declaring "holy crap, this thing is insane" at one of the rail guns, earning the squint of the security officers present, and his meandering eventually takes him to the memorial wall, which is - unfortunately - a lot bigger than anyone here probably wants it to be. ]

...Jesus. Out of the frying pan.

NETWORK
1. Nathan Drake
2. Originally? Earth
3. There's a kind of salty sharp smell to the ocean when it cuts through the muggy heat of a jungle. Everything is rich and dark. It's hard to describe but it just feels old.
4. Maybe a lemur? This is a pretty difficult question.
5. 39 when I left Earth. Couple years "abroad" so 41 now.
6. It had its moments.

Anybody else been around the multiverse block before?


WILDCARD
[Feel free to hmu on plurk at [plurk.com profile] uncalendula or discord at uncalendula#5439 if you want to plot anything else out and none of these prompts strike your fancy! I'm easy. :)]
sallyfaced: (Converging with MACHINERY)

Sal Fisher | Sally Face

[personal profile] sallyfaced 2021-05-01 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
A: Holding cells

    [One containment cell to another isn't much of a shocker to Sal, even if his perception of time is a little warped and he's not actually sure how long it's been since he was last detained. Doesn't really matter, he guesses.

    He couldn't grab his guitar, which is kind of annoying, but it likely wouldn't be much help here anyway. Nothing seems to be too haunted or cursed about this place — not that he can see, anyway. It definitely doesn't feel like it.

    He's sitting against the side of the containment cell, not paying mind to the onlookers until a kid stops and asks about his mask. Why's he wearing it? What's he hiding?]


    I have a really big zit and I'm self conscious, [is the tired response, to which the child scrunches his face and goes on his merry way.]


B: Base camp

    [He's had prison food before so this...it's really not that terrible in comparison. Sal was never a picky eater either. But the one thing he absolutely wants nothing to do with? This coffee. He can't stand the stuff. Which is why he's nudging it towards whoever just happens to be sitting close enough.]

    Hey, do you want mine? Not much of a coffee guy.

    [Even if he were, drinking from a cup without taking off his mask is a pain in the ass.]


C: Network


    [This is a really strange questionnaire, but since the person posing these questions seems to have a sense of humor, he'll indulge, though he chooses to be brief in his answers.]

    1. sally face
    2. new jersey originally, earth ig?? its complicated
    3. weed, bcuz my sense of smell is kinda messed up and its one of the few things i smell pretty clearly. idk how to describe it. smells kinda like burnt rope??
    4. a cat
    5. sure. good job champ


D: WILDCARD

[hmu with literally anything, go nuts.]
neversmall: (02)

Nina Zenik | Shadow and Bone (show but book influenced) | OTA!

[personal profile] neversmall 2021-05-01 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)
-- Explore the Base Camp--

[ Nina’s been well-trained, if not for situations like this, than for all situations. Assess the situation; blend in; make allies; prioritize. She is… not very good at blending in, but in all other objectives she is very good. It is with relief that when she returns to the pod she finds a deep red Kefta, along with a few other helpful things from home. She’s been out of uniform for months now, and there’s a certain amount of security that comes with fastening the Fabrikator-made cloth around her. Not only is it bulletproof, but it’s a nice reminder that - alone as she is, on another world as she is, she has people who trusted in her.

She’d been ready to leave all of them behind. There was regret, there, but only the faint aftertaste of it. The choice had been all-but-made, and now it was taken out of her hands.

Assessing the situation leads her down to the mess hall. It’s got to be better than nothing, right? And it is. But not by much. ]


This is terrible, [ she says with obvious relish, making a face as she takes a sip of coffee. ] But it’s warm. How’s yours?

[ It’s not hard to spot her later. She’s made her way to the infirmary. As a Heartrender, not only can she ease pain, but, although she’s no Healer, the body is part of her province. She can command skin to knit, encourage healing - she’s not going to overextend herself, but the laughter and the easing of pain, the quickening of healing marks her presence. Have you ever heard such laughter coming from a sick room? Then you haven’t seen Nina, flirting outrageously with a fresh amputee as she holds her hand and eases her pain.

At night, she’ll be wandering through the camp, seemingly just to meet people. But her green eyes miss nothing, as she searches out all the strengths and weakness of the camp. ]


-- Rescue Mission --

[ ‘You’re our rescue squad.’

Well. Nina hadn’t been planning on revealing her offensive capabilities this soon, but she knows the value of proving herself -- and getting out of the camp while having an easy way to get back in is ideal.

Plus. People need help. She turns to you and raises her eyebrows. ]


Shall we?

[ In the field, she holds up the lightweight shield with surprising ease, but she’s very clearly disturbed by the first impact of acid rain. As it continues to pour, she shivers a little. She wants to push out a hand, test the kefta against the rain, but at the same time… no. ]

Oh, I don’t like this at all.

[ At the Rat Warren it… does not look good. Nina glances back from the hole toward the team. Going down into the dark does not appeal, but they’re here for a reason. She takes a deep breath. ]

Any ideas?

-- Network: --

1. What is your name? Nina Zenik
2. Where are you from? Ravka
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose. If you can imagine crisp, buttery, sweet, and savory - then you can imagine fresh waffles, straight off the griddle, hot and crisp and tempting beyond all belief.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be? A dragon.
5. How old are you? Nineteen.
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire? I did! What’s an AI?


-- Wildcard --

[ Hmu with anything or PM this journal ]
Edited 2021-05-01 13:18 (UTC)
cleaningsolutions: (Default)

Marion "Mops" Adamopoulos | Janitors of the Post-Apocalypse | OTA

[personal profile] cleaningsolutions 2021-05-01 02:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[Mops looks a little... off, compared to the NPCs. Her blood is black, which shows in the tint of her skin, her gray lips, her dark sclera. She doesn't stand exactly upright and her arms are long and heavy, with very large hands. Her teeth and nails aren't quite right either, both having been clipped down severely when she was cured.

Otherwise, she's tall but not incredibly so, very stocky, has a few wrinkles, and her graying dark hair is pulled back into a bun. A green visor goes over one eye and houses her assistive AI, Doc.]


hatching

[What Mops should be doing is evaluating the situation and these strangers while also calling on her twelve years in the Hygiene and Sanitation track of the EMC to one, get this cell not reeking, and two, reminisce about other times she's had to deal with weird goo. What Mops is doing instead is crying, and not like a stoic tear going down each cheek, though that's definitely how it started when she was being brought in. Now it's bad. Now she's sobbing into a clean rag she pulled out of her jumpsuit.]

Real humans...!

basecamp - mess hall

[Mops looks slightly nauseated watching people eat with their mouths. For her ears only, Doc says, None of them have the virus, you know. If natural humans had a chance of losing their minds at dinner, Jane Austen would have brought it up.

There's a port in her abdomen that she can spoon mash into. Mops up and blushes when she realizes people will see, and that the NPCs absolutely find this weird - the skin on her face gets darker and shinier - but she gets on with it.]


You'd think they'd never seen someone eat before.

basecamp - other

[The sound carries down the pipes and is audible long before you see Mops' feet and legs protruding from a crawlspace. She's on her back in a great puddle of water, working with a will at those selfsame pipes and trying to stop the leak she's lying in. Mops is a janitor, but on a Krakau ship that also means 'plumber', among other things.]

Hey, can you pass me that canister of solder? The little red one.
welts: (pic#14854658)

sado | original character

[personal profile] welts 2021-05-01 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
basecamp.
[ There's a lot of people around here. A mess hall is a mess hall. Maybe you're trying to keep down the coffee — and having the (objectively) right reaction to it — or maybe you're just minding your business, and it's all incidental. Regardless, people come and people go, including a blonde woman that spends maybe about three seconds seated next to you before picking up her tray and moving somewhere else.

Seeing his opening, Sado takes it.
]

Man.

[ The guy says, genially. Specifically: it's this guy. Tall. Sort of unshaven. The kind of relaxed that suggests maybe he hasn't thought too hard about waking up out of an egg. Sado puts down his tray and takes a seat. That lone piece of broccoli wobbles a bit on his plate, unappetizingly, but it's the first thing to get speared on the end of his fork. ]

What'd you do to piss her off?

[ Sado grins. Sociable, friendly. Well, friendly enough, for a guy who starts in on his crumbled protein with gusto. ]



basecamp 2.0.
[ You'll find him other places, too. Helping repair hammocks, or cleaning dishes. Talking intently but quietly to the injured in the infirmary. Simple things that just about anyone could do. And hell, if he can manage it, playing hide and seek with one of the kids around here. (And yeah, he'll cheat, so you bet he'll rope someone into helping him. These kids are kicking his ass.) ]



booze.
[ Invitation passes by word of mouth. Over the last seven days, whenever he's had a second, the memorial wall's been a place Sado's lingered around — reigniting the odd candle, carefully reading names. Trying to fix the broken paw of a little carved bear figurine, once.

Still trying to fix it, in fact. He's posted up a little ways from the main action. Whoever's kind enough to bring him a tin cup gets him to look up from his project (what looks suspiciously like old twine being used as a makeshift brace to reattach that paw), but Sado shakes his head.
]

Thanks, but I got my hands a little full. 'Sides—

[ Smiling — and one hand carefully keeping bear and paw secure — he fishes out a pendant from the inside of his shirt. A small symbol pressed into a metal disc, hanging from a well-worn chain. It's a shape that obviously has some sort of significance, judging by the way Sado shrugs it off good-humoredly, as if its presence alone explains everything. ]

—married to the job.



wildcard.
[ Up for whatever! Feel free to spitball anything, if you have an idea I'll follow through. ]
warfares: @tomwaits (pic#13987461)

ben solo | star wars: post-tros

[personal profile] warfares 2021-05-01 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
⧋ ⎯ ᴍᴇss ʜᴀʟʟ
( ben's been in line, got his suspect plate of edibles and a lukewarm cup of sludge and now he's looking for somewhere to settle. most of the places have been taken over already by either the crew or the other survivors.

most look at him with that mix of wariness and curiosity as he passes, and he has to swallow down the urge to duck his head and hunch his shoulders, to make himself appear smaller.

he's never much liked being seen )


Mind if I sit here? ( because at this point he's tempted to just duck outside, settle somewhere quieter. )


⧋ ⎯ ʀᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʀʀᴇɴ
Kriff! ( in spite of himself, ben is surprised when the creature's face splits, transforming into a writhing mass of flesh.

porter's words stick in his mind: whatever you do, don't let them touch you. except that they've come so far, already. turning back doesn't feel like much of an option. )


Go on. I'll distract them.


⧋ ⎯ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ

1. Ben Solo
2. Hanna City, Chandrila.
3. The ocean. It smells like water and salt and cold sun. Bracing.
4. Great Thranta.
5. 30.
6. Would that make a difference?


⧋ ⎯ ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ
( have an idea? feel free to hit me up on [plurk.com profile] resurrectionist or via pm. canon point is post-tros. )
angerberg: (pic#14132775)

yennefer of vengerberg (witcher netflix)

[personal profile] angerberg 2021-05-01 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
01. sidequest
[ at the earliest opportunity, after they are released from the prison cells they'd been stuffed into, yennefer makes her way back to the central chrysalis. her magic still feels weak and wan, distant. it's hard to say whether it's this creature, or whether it's the amount of chaos she had expended in the battle. she refuses to entertain the latter, so she investigates the former. she slips off quietly just after lunch, while the locals are offering tours. she doesn't want a tour. she wants out.

the splattered remains of the eggs are still strewn about the floor of the room. yennefer kicks some goopy fluid off her boot as she draws nearer to the core of the place, giving a soft scoff of disgust as she does. it stinks of something unfamiliar, something sour that sits high in her nose.

the central chrysalis glows with a dull light, like it's alive. like it's a beacon. yennefer tries to yoke enough chaos to reach out to it, to perceive it in some way, but falls short. again and again.

with a frustrated noise, she kicks one of the nearby eggs. it gives a sick crack, and the shells peel away. there's something inside. an item? yennefer crouches, knocks away more of the shell to examine it. it might belong to her, or it might belong to someone else. ​
]


02. every woman for herself
[ they roll through the base like locusts, and yennefer looks up from the theater equipment that she's inspecting when the herald comes in to announce that they're trying to recruit volunteers for some rescue mission. her expression turns like milk that's gone off. ]

Why would any of us do that? [ she can remember their faces. dead sorceresses. sorceresses who'd given their lives for worthy conflicts that were not their own. tissaia. ] We're not your cannon fodder.


03. allow me to introduce myself
You realize, of course, that this exercise is pointless. Any of us could lie, and we have no motive to honesty.


04. wildcard
[ hit me up with a prompt related to one of the test drive prompts. ]
maipokerface: (012)

Mai | ATLA

[personal profile] maipokerface 2021-05-01 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[I] HATCHING;
[a] [She's a mess, an absolute filthy mess. Sharing a cell with her is like sharing a cell with a rumbling black cloud, the air heavy with her displeasure and that gray aura of her more pitch-black.

What weaponry she had on her person was more or less useless with the amount of goop she was coated with and the absolute weakness she felt those first twenty-hour hours. It's all she can do to sit in a corner of the cell attempting to keep out of eyesight of anyone who might look in and just... seethe.

So maybe you glance her way at some point or maybe you just breathe in a particularly annoying way. Whatever it is, when she does eventually speak it's as friendly as her looks.]


Stop.

[b] [Thankfully showers are offered -- eventually. The slime takes a good deal of scrubbing to get it off after hours of settling onto seemingly every inch of her but whatever, Mai manages with what soap there is.

Naturally though she had to get bitten by bad luck once more when she finds there's one towel left.]


You've got to be kidding me.

[Any good feelings that came with getting all of that gunk off of her are immediately squandered.]

[II] BASECAMP;
[The meal is nothing to write home about but Mai isn't about to complain about it after first being confined and stuck in a goopy mess for hours. Once it's over though she's more than ready to wander around wherever it is they're at -- a cave of some sort?

Except it's definitely not a cave. It isn't until she's managed to wander outside of what she thought was a cave and into the shade of that she actually looks up at what's overhead and just sort of stops dead in her tracks.]


... Is that a wing?

[She asks it so blandly it would be hard to tell the sheer surprise she feels just from the tone of her voice.]

[III] RESCUE MISSION - THE RAT WARREN;
[Mai almost groans out loud the moment Captain Childe looks her way. In that instant being pulled up to the sand table goes from something she cares absolutely nothing about to something she had to be invested in. Not because the Captain had laid out orders -- Mai wasn't exactly the sort to take orders from anyone after all. It was the command that everyone had to pitch in and after seeing the meager supplies from food to the damn towels... Mai wasn't heartless. She's seen the kids around here and now and then thinks of Tom-Tom back home.

To hell with me and my heart.

So here she is, letting one of her knives slip into her hand as easily as she breathes.]


Giant rats with tentacles, huh.

[Boy does she sound unenthused by that idea.]

[IV] BOOZE;
[Mai isn't exactly unaccustomed to liquor. Yeah she might not have drank back home but parties and celebrations in the Fire Nation always involved some alcohol of some sort. She's taste-tested a little here and there but none that she's found enjoyable in the least.

Today though marks a week of this mess and when the invitation passes around she decides to knock off from teaching school kids how to throw knives to maybe socialize some? If she's got to be here then she might as well get to know someone. She's never exactly been the life of the party no matter where the party was but she's utterly alone here and has to have some connections eventually given the close quarters.

When she arrives though someone shoves a drink into her hand and she can't help but give it a test sniff first. Her nose wrinkles almost instantly, tears rising up in the corners of her eyes because, well.]


That smells terrible.

[Welcome to questionable moonshine.]


[V] WILDCARD;
[Don't see a prompt here that you want? Feel free to hit me up with anything you like here! PM for any questions/plotting.]

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