acatalepsy_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #5.

Entry tags:

TEST DRIVE MEME #5.

I ▫ main	IV ▫ premise			XI ▫ applications	XIV ▫ activity
II ▫ logs	V ▫ rules	VII ▫ bestiary	IX ▫ canon updates	XII ▫ taken	XV ▫ drop/hiatus
III ▫ ooc	VI ▫ faq	VIII ▫ setting	X ▫ mods	XIII ▫ reserves	XVI ▫ players

test drive meme #5

It happens in the blink of an eye.

One moment, you are home. Perhaps you are with your family, perhaps you are at work. It's a completely normal day . . . and then, suddenly, your stomach drops. You are overcome with a sudden sense of vertigo. You cannot see up, or down, or where you are.

You fall flat on your face. It's bright, warm, and humid . . . for now. Weirdly, the weather seems to be entirely in flux. One moment, it is warm and humid, and within the next handful of hours, it is starting to snow. Whatever is going on with Astoria seems to be messing with the atmosphere of the Temple, and as a result, you are having something of a wild entrance to Acatalepsy.

It takes a few seconds for you to gain composure and catch your breath. You are surrounded by ancient stone buildings, with carvings you do not recognize etched into the stone. There's a sense of nausea, overwhelming and sudden, when you realize you aren't in Kansas anymore.

Indeed, it seems as if you have fallen down the rabbit hole. A weird, mysterious, snowing-yet-humid rabbit hole.

THE TEMPLE OF BEGINNINGS.

Welcome to the "Home Base" of Astoria's Circle. What the actual name of the base is called is lost to the ages, and there's no sense of where you could find it, unless you started asking around.

At any rate, this is a central hub of the Circle, a place of powerful magic and mysterious energy. It is a scattering of ancient stone buildings and for the most part, it looks abandoned . . . except for what seems to be a few items, some rooms taken, items moved or organized, even a small garden planted. These are just the smallest hints that there are people here that have been here before you arrived.

Overall, it's fairly beautiful. However, it is definitely not modern.

Upon exploration, you find that the buildings are kept up by some kind of magic. Some of the rooms have items, things from other Circle members already settled, and others appear to be unclaimed. Pick your rooms, explore the grounds, see the beauty and wonder all around you in such a magical place. However, be careful -- there is some additional movement around the Temple that seems specific to the time of year.

HAPPY UN-BIRTHDAY.

The kitchen has become overtaken with a flurry of activity. Vines have woven their way into the area of the Temple typically reserved for food, and there is a massive tea party! What a splendiferous thing -- surely this can't be all that bad.

There is such a massive array of food here that it almost seems impossible to know where to start . . . tea and cookies set out with messages that read “EAT/DRINK ME." Well, if you insist. However . . . certain foods and drinks have certain effects upon your person that are wholly unexpected. Well, drat.

If you taste the rosehip tea, you are suddenly infatuated with the first individual you lay eyes on. They are everything to you. You think you may even want to propose, immediately, right now. Weddings, I love weddings!

Tasting the ladyfingers will cause you to spill your deepest secrets to whoever is nearby. Have a secret crush? Not anymore! The entire room has to know about it, and you somehow can't seem to shut up about whatever you've been trying to keep quiet.

A sip of the chamomile tea will cause you to become ridiculously sleepy. That corner looks like a particularly delightful place to take a nap, doesn't it? Maybe someone else wants to nap too.

The Madeline cakes cause a ridiculously high spike in happiness. Nothing can get you down, not even the grumpiest of people. Smile, smile, smile! You need to spread this joy to everyone in your reach.

A nibble of the scones will prevent you from lying. . . and, in addition, you will be brutally honest on whatever question you're asked. Maybe now is a bad time to give an opinion on your friend's outfit or new haircut, hm?

And, finally, the Earl Grey tea will cause an enhancement of your Astoria given powers. Make sure you have that under control, or you may accidentally blow out a window, depending on what it is.

YOU'RE LATE, YOU'RE LATE.

The Unseen Servants will be a little, well, mad. Not that anyone will be able to see them, but there will seem to be things moving around the Temple at random, whether they be sheets, clothing, food, furniture, etc. with very little if any logical reason to it. It almost appears like the sheets and the like are moving throughout the air without any rhyme or reason to it . . . someone certainly isn't happy that the Temple is all astray.

In addition, the Unseen Servants may also be attempting to steal things off of you. After all, you are also new to their world, and they want to make sure everything is put into their proper place, so beware any silent mischievous Unseen Servants dipping hands into pockets.

Also . . . some of the rooms in the Temple are shifting around. Certain entryways could lead you to a select location at random. You may have thought you were entering your room, but it appears you’ve wound up in someone else’s. Or the bathhouse. Or the forest. Either way, you may find yourself lost for a bit...until the Temple decides to stop playing tricks on you. Keep track of your location, or you may wind up in the Forest of the Fey by mistake.

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.

Should you approach the fighting ring, you’ll find that isn’t quite what you’d expect — there are no training dummies to be found, the rusted gates are colored a lavish gold, and the dirt ground has been replaced with a red and black checkered flooring. More notably, the ring itself seems to have expanded to make way for seating so that it’s become more of an arena than anything. There is an audience of spectators: many of them are typically known as the bestiary of this Temple. They are a bit more, er, refined and chatty today.

When you enter, the gates will shut behind you. They will not budge. You have now entered a makeshift Royal Court. Suddenly, a playing card manifests in your hand. It might be…

A Heart: A princess-like figure is displayed on this card. She appears to be singing.
A Diamond: A gallant knight-like figure is displayed on this card. He appears to be fighting.
A Queen: A refined queen-like figure is displayed on this card. She sits atop a throne, her finger pointed right at you.
A King: A triumphant-king like figure is displayed on this card. He stands on a podium for all to see.
A Joker: A jester-like figure is displayed on this card. He is dancing, laughing, and making a general fool of himself.

On the back reads a message that states “This card withholds your role. You’ll be permitted to leave once we are thoroughly entertained. Best of luck!” No further instruction is given. Those who have entered with you are in the same predicament. How will you interpret your card? Who are you stuck with and how will you satisfy the audience? Or are you a member of the audience instead? Either way, good luck getting out — it’s up to you!

COMMUNICATIONS.

Upon arriving, you will notice on whichever is your non-dominant hand, you will have a fairly simply screen. A smart watch, if you will. Upon exploration, you will find that it has a directory of all those here with you at the Temple of Beginnings- names, and access to a direct message to them. The watch also has video, audio, and text capabilities, as well as what looks like a collection of messages sent to everyone who wishes to open them. This is your 'network', and also how Astoria can reach out and communicate with you.

There is nothing keeping you from removing and/or losing your watch! But remember that you will not have access to this network without it.

OOC: Also feel free to join us and other possible players on our discord server!

enjoy! ♥

Threaded | Flat

COMMUNICATIONS |
Oh hey, guess who's green, magnetic (usually), and back -- what did I miss? Who wants to give a lady the deets and juicy gossip?

WILDCARD |
( come @ me with any of the above scenarios! )

𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕦𝕟-𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪

[After finding a room and claiming it for herself (by slamming an axe through the wood of the door), Johanna followed the vines. They seemed to be growing more and more the longer she looked at them, but she shook it off. Everything here was weird. She shouldn't have left her axe behind...

But then she sees the tea party and sits down. She appears uneasy and when a cup of tea is passed to her, she drinks. Even though it seems like a really stupid idea. She's thirsty, she's cold (and humid), and sometimes you have to give in.]

What kind of tea is this?*

𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖

[Johanna went to find her axe again, after the tea incident. She yanked it out of the door and strapped it to her back. While walking around the temple, trying to find a way out-- Johanna is accosted by one of the Unseen Servants. It tries to take her axe.

Johanna, of course, takes off running through a doorway. It leads her to someone else's room... they'll see her struggle with an invisible force for the metal strapped to her back.]

Don't just sit there, help!

𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕

[Her card is the Joker. She wonders if that's how everyone back home saw her. The loudmouth that entertained the audience at home, the one who it couldn't get any worse for. She'd survive anything.

Johanna turns to her opponent.]

Did you get a card too?

ℂ𝕆𝕄𝕄𝕌ℕ𝕀ℂ𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊.

BEEP BOOP HOW DID I GET HERE BEEP BOOP

𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕕
*pick anything, I'm okay with any of the options.
ANYTHING GOES~ If you're not sure:

gnomeskull

[ Option 1 - Snow! ]

[Okay so the frantically changing weather is weird, but not the weirdest thing. The Summerlands have their moments of mercurial climate, so Quentin can't exactly say he's never seen it before. He's also not as distressed as he could be. He hasn't noticed his magic being affected yet, since whatever talent Astoria has given him has filled the gap of his usual illusion magic. So his human-disguise is woven and in place (though he's pretty sure that he's somewhere in the Summerlands; nothing outside of Faerie is this weird) just in case he runs into anyone.

The minute it starts snowing, Quentin forgets for a moment how annoyed he is at not being where he should be and not knowing what the heck is going on, and instead tilts his face up at the snowflakes with a grin. Snow!

He misses snow. When the snow squall starts piling up enough, he's quick to scoop up enough to pack into a snowball. He'll get back to exploring and figuring this out in a minute! He will! But first he's just going to throw this at the nearest tree because he can.

Except. It's only as the snowball leaves his fingertips that he realizes someone is standing there. Whether the little snow missile strikes that person or goes whizzing by too close for comfort, he's already calling out a,] Sorry! Sorry about that!

[ Option 2 - Unbirthday Party ]

[So. He should know better than to try food and drink that he doesn't know the source of. He should. He's seen poisonings up close before. He knows charms and enchantments can be worked through food. But he's starving. Super starving.

So the scones? He will devour them. They're tasty, okay? And unaware of just how honest he's feeling.] This is all really messed up.

[That's not exactly surprising honesty. But it is. And while he has his human illusion on, hiding his pointed ears and the other inhuman hallmarks of his appearance, he also announces,] I can't even tell if it's worth pretending to be human.

[Wait he shouldn't have said that.]

[ Option 3 - Playing Cards ]

[Quentin is staring at the card in his hand. A King. There is a moment where a rush of concern and defensiveness races over him. Is this a joke? Is someone messing with him on purpose, trying to hint that they know his secret? No way. That's not even possible. It definitely isn't.

He'll just go with that denial for now. He makes a face at the message on the back of the card.]

What is that even supposed to mean? [But for that matter, the closest person nearby,] Does your card say this too?

[ Option 4 - Wild Card ]

[ Anything not here, feel free to hit me up! ]

It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.

[ the child's journey begins in the temple, which is all too reminiscent of Home. It may not be nearly as modern, but there's a charm to this place like the ruins. the child makes friends with a barometz, carries it around in their arms like a precious little stuffed animal. it's almost as big as they are! but this is their friend, and they love it. the child, frisk, hasn't named it yet, but they think they will at some point today. or maybe it will name itself. strangely, it doesn't talk, but maybe it hasn't thought of something to say yet.

they don't claim a room at the temple of beginnings because they assume that just as they fell before, there is a way out of this set of ruins as well. instead, they inspect each other carefully. they paw through others' belongings. it's an easy feat with all the revolving doors. it's a little bit like a cartoon with a talking dog, but there's no mystery here - just a puzzle! maybe?

this is a lot of fluff to say that when you visit your room next, there's a child putting a barometz in an article of your own clothing! oh dear. but look how dashing it looks, and look how... completely unbothered by your arrival frisk is.

...they tie a ribbon on top of the barometz head, and then look back at you.

are they look for...approval? you be the judge. ]

Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.

[ the revolving doors lead frisk to so many new and interesting places. at some point, they've solved the puzzle (they think!) because they're spit out by the temple to a space near the lake. the lake poses a new problem, because frisk can't say they really know how to swim. they decide to walk around it, taking the little barometz with them. they trek around it, like mary and her little lamb.

and suddenly - onion-san returns.

well, this isn't onion-san. it's nessie. nessie pops her head over, the water rolling off her neck and head like rivers in their own right, and frisk looks so very, very tiny. they are so small. this is a ten year old who hasn't spoken at all in this top level so far, and while the barometz screeches and runs away, frisk stands underneath nessie's gaze. onion-san 2.0's shadow completely covers them, and from her position hulking over them, water drips onto frisk. the child stares blankly, nessie stares back.

nothing happens, for a moment.

frisk reaches out, curious...

but what about you? witnessing a small child reach out for a dinosaur, what course of action do you take? ]

Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle.

[ * The sight of a tea party fills you with determination.

frisk takes several of everything. they take tea and shove it in the freezer, because a tea party reminds them of a certain young spider lady, which makes them think of all the ice cream they ate with her. and in turn, they think of...

well, it's humid, and didn't he say that his ice cream was selling well in hotland?

tea cups are in the sink, stacked precariously. it was an accident. there's a pot on the stove, raw spaghetti inside. there are only three noodles, in fact, as if they have been placed gently in the pot one by one before someone abandoned that task. ladyfingers are arranged around teacups still full of tea, and scones are placed in a heart. there's a child by the freezer, scraping something out...

ah. they produce a teacup... and then present it to you. it's ... tea^(*) flavored shaved ice. off the side of a freezer.

your move. ]

...Your HP will be maxed out.

[ curiouser and curiouser! ]

“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”

[ a courtroom, full of monsters.

a child, on trial.

the card, unforgettable: a heart! just like their own, as if anything else were more suitable.

this is the scene of the crime; a heartless display of a child's fear.

haha, nah, they stare blankly down at it, then up into the audience, looking around. this isn't the first time there's been such a crowd with their eyes on them, but frisk had an idea of what to do in that instance. it's all too easy to remember: a robot, a cheering audience, a call that they'll never forget, and the smell of smoke and feeling of metal rapidly losing it's heat. is such a display necessary here? they look around, and their brows knit together in thought.

a girl singing... well, that simply won't do. if only they'd drawn a knight or something else! what would mettaton do? a performance, for sure, but also: mettaton would try to kill them. they don't dwell on that much longer before deciding on something else. ]

Anybody have flour, eggs, and sugar?

[ IT'S A PIECE OF CAKE TO BAKE A PRETTY CAKE? will this actually work? who knows. maybe you should steer them elsewhere, or maybe you should help them actually bake. without an oven...? somehow.

the jury murmurs, the queen sneers. what will you do?]

“Begin at the beginning”, the King said gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

[ there's a new name on the network, but it's first post is a...

really blurry image? you can't tell what it is. there's another picture, and another, and another. you get the inclination whoever is using the camera here has no idea how to handle it. eventually, the person gives up...

for about twenty minutes. ]

😂😂😂😂😂😂
My friend
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Have you seen it
Arms too short for hugs 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

wildcard.

[ feel free to hit me up with your own prompt.
* = your choice of tea flavor. frisk is just giving you it in freezer burn shaved ice form! ]

happy unbirthday

[ arthur is trying not to look uncomfortable, but somehow that's just accentuating the obvious clash of culture. to say this isn't his scene would be an understatement. the fancy tea cups, the cookies...he stays away, eyeing it like it might just jump him if he gets too close. you might catch him talking to himself: ]

"Splendiferous"...yeah, sure.

[ to be fair, it's not just the tea cups or the splendor or the food he's never contemplated before. it's this whole situation. falling down the rabbit hole like the main character of a book, this snowing-yet-humid nonsense. it's been a day. and it isn't even afternoon yet. ]

you're late, you're late

Damnit, that's my --

[ arthur heads off after a thief, cursing himself and the thief besides for not paying enough attention to watch his things. a rookie mistake, just as much an idiot as the people he usually robs. he's sure he's about to catch the person when he turns a corner and ends up barreling straight into you, the room and scenery completely different than what he was expecting. ]

Oh, uh, begging your pardon. You see, I was just --

[ he looks around, but now there's no way he's going to catch the thief. that pocket watch had cost him seven whole dollars, damnit. ]

communications

There's a lot of little bubbles on this nonsense watch. Everytime I think I have them, they just come back again, and there's more messages of people talking about this and that. I don't mean to be cluttering up your watches, but I do have a request. Something was taken from me earlier. Do you have any idea where these thieving servants get up to when they're done harassing us? I'd like to give them a piece of my mind. Thank you in advance. -A.

un-birthday

[ tea is, generally, a tantalizing treat. not when it's been provided by a benefactor who has both 1) kidnapped him and 2) concealed their identity from him. so percival can be seen, thoroughly inspecting the teas and foods splayed across the table. he brings a cup to his nose, sniffing as though he were a bloodhound.

but then he stops. he stops because you're reaching for one of these delicacies, and it is absolutely his duty to reach forward and smack your hand away. ]

What do you think you're doing? [ he doesn't sound quite angry when he says it, no — more frigid than anything. ] All of this food could very well be poisoned.

off with your head

[ the gates shut behind him. he wants to jerk back and attempt to pry the gates open, but he does not — whatever has presented itself to him may be a challenge. even better, it might be a direct point of conflict that enables him to get out of this fantastical wasteland.

and then a card manifests in his hand. his eyes flicker over the jester, taking in the sight of his tomfoolery. it's then that he turns the card around, features hardening at the words before him. ]

Tch. Am I being made a fool of?

[ and so he marches onward, approaching you with little decorum. ]

You — show me your card.

I. Happy Unbirthday

[EAT/DRINK ME spells out the food, enticing Sakura to give it a shot, go wild, might as well lose all semblance of priority and have a bite to eat before attempting to escape from... wherever this place she's been stolen to.

Except even on her worst days, Sakura is not adventurous. She's not particularly stupid, either. The food gets a dubious glance as she saddles one of the walls of the kitchen, knowing the chances are high it's poisoned in some way, or perhaps just laden with magecrafts that will make her wish they were poisoned...

To anyone who comes marching into the kitchen, she'll stop them (timidly), shaking her head with a gesture to the tables]

Um -- I don't think they're safe to eat, actually...

[I mean, you do you, but she's just saying.]

II. You're Late, You're Late

-- W-wait, give that back!!

[You know what sucks more than questionable food she doesn't dare eat? Unseen servants getting all up in her business and stealing the red ribbon from her hair, prancing down the hall with it.

The ribbon must be precious to her. There's no other for this girl to come barreling down whatever Temple walkway you're in, prepared to mow over you on her conquest for vengeance. Should she collide with anyone, the girl will turn on her heel, bow with an apology, and then pivot right back on track with a yell in her voice]

That's mine!

[... Well, you could help, or just laugh. You'd be surprised how normal that second option is]

you're late, you're late.

[ The attempt to grab the unseen servant by the arm and twist it until it pops out of it's socket fails thanks to their lack of solid form.

So obviously the next step is grabbing the nearest firmly solid object – a fine celadon vase in goryeo style, likely a priceless and irreplaceable piece rescued from the sand of time -- in a blind rage and throwing it at them.

The Servant's “voice” is barely above a whisper, a haunting symphony of distorted groans that sound like they're filtered through water. Honestly, Dito would have found them kind of beautiful if they hadn't tried to lay hands on him earlier.

Finally, he turns towards the person who happened to stumble into the kitchen as the scene unfolded. ]

Are you just going to stand there looking like an idiot? -because it'd be really helpful of you if you could tell me how to kill these things or drop dead.

off with your head – audience.

[ The flower lambs and talking lake monsters don't take much to get used too. They're not much different than the humans really. The smile when they're happy, cry when they're sad and bleed like stuck pigs when you shove a knife through them.

Some of them even have useful information when threatened with those knives. Which is how he bypasses the gates and takes a seat next to a gently swaying Nymphs and a bundle of chattering tent bats snacking on overripe plums.

The checkered floor begins to fill with people and Dito watches in vague interest for a first few minutes, but as time passes and the fighting ring continues to offer him no fighting he starts to pick at the dirt under his nails and eaves drop on the bats gossip about colony happenings. ]

Hey, are any of of those – the plums, yeah. Are any of those really nasty? Too nasty to eat?

[ A few of the bats tilt their heads curiously, but the youngest of the cluster sifts through their collection before rolling a plum with a large green-grey mold spot and sagging skin over to him.

He picks up the plum; sticking his thumb into the mold spot and watching the brown juice and grey flesh ooze out under pressure. ]

Thanks.

[ He launches the plum at the nearest card holder. Aiming for the head, naturally. ]

communications.

dshgfdgfjhgkjhlhlkjljlkjlkjljk
fgfhfgjhgthtkukuyil
dgfgfhgfjghjh
wh asat the fucvk

wild card.
feed me seymour

[unbirthday party*]

[This wasn't the first time she'd woken up disoriented, and like before she's greeted with indifferent silence: no celebration, no crying babies and the like. No fanfare. This had been, however, the first time she'd decrystallized flat on her face, sputtering, inelegant and graceless in a way she almost never was.

That had been a few hours earlier, and her face still smarts. She figures the whole thing'll be one big bruise come morning, but the more pressing issue is that since she's been all among the living again, she's realized in short order that wherever she is, she sure as hell can't put a name to the place. Doesn't look like Cocoon, nor Gran Pulse, certainly not the great expanse of field she and Vanille had looked out on when they'd finished their Focus at last, safely cradled in the great spire holding up the little world above their own.

Worse than that though, is that she can't find Vanille. Hadn't seen her at all, and this more than anything is what gets her close to panicking. She's still searching for her, with a quiet and unerring sort of focus now, after all other usual methods had borne no fruit, when she stumbles upon this...

Bizarre setup.

Maybe there were no crying women and babies, but this sure looked like a feast. Of a sort, anyway. Hell of a lot of dessert. It's not wise to go about eating food laid out of nowhere, but it's more foolish still not to eat when you didn't know where your next meal was gonna be.

The signage laid out seems a lot like a trap, though. Like such a blatantly obvious trap that she's wondering if it's made itself genuine.

Hm.

She nudges the person nearest her in the ribs, who is, if she times it right (and that's the idea), is probably right in the middle of drinking said tea.]

Hey.

[She affords the spread a brief nod. Leans back in her seat.]

So you're just going for it, huh? You born yesterday, or what?

(* pick whatever effect you'd like! it's your world)

[off with your head]

I haven't got anymore goddamn time for this nonsense!

[Fang has been going in doors and ending up in other places for a period of time she has deemed as "enough." She has tilted over from vaguely panicked into "incensed," and this is bad just in general but especially bad because you're stuck with her. Sorry bout it!

Her own card is tossed, dismissively, to the ground below. It lands face-up, revealing the imperious Queen, but she's too busy trying to knock the gate over by hitting it with her spear as much as possible. The only thing she's managing is tiring herself out.

You might wanna talk her down. Or not! Up to you, boo.]

[communications]

Whatever fal'Cie's in charge of this mess is a regular whackjob. Few chocobo eggs short a dozen, I think.

[The voice filters in is a drawl, all easy-going again.

(She's probably found Vanille by now.)] "Astoria's" what it's calling itself, right? 'Least that's what I've heard from some of you. Figures.

Well, since I'm as settled as I'm gonna be, I'm missing a set of bracelets, of all the things to be missing. Whoever's got 'em, you're one hell of a thief, for starters. Second, I'd like them back. They're special. Sure you've got something like that, somewhere.

[we're painting the roses red (wildcard)]

[anything your heart desires! or if none of my prompts were working for you and you wanted to do something else. as a note, Fang's (proposed) Astoria granted power is that of an emotional sponge — she can absorb all your character's bad feelings and take them onto herself for a time! If you want to do something specifically dealing with that, please PM me or contact me @ plurk

godsibb]

Edited 2019-01-21 04:57 (UTC)

Arrivals:

This....it's so cold!

[Would the weather make up its mind already? Sora is freezing over here. And not just because he is in shorts and short sleeves, but he's used to the more tropical climate of his precious Destiny Islands home. Not......snow. So he's shivering, trying to hug himself a little as if that might keep him slightly warmer, along with trying to keep moving in his investigating this place.]

Happy Unbirthday:

Tea? I guess I can try. It's been a while since I had some. Kind of reminds me of Wonderland.....

[What with the Hare and Hatter and all. So Sora might be oblivious to the potential consequences of drinking some, being newer here. Hence his trying some and ending up with the chamomile, which.....might mean he ends up dozing. Not that that is an unfamiliar situation for him, but still. Someone might want to try waking the sleepy teen slumped in the chair with his cheek against the table.]

Late:

H-hey! Get back here! I need that!

[Because one of these Servants have pinched something from his pocket. Cue Sora chasing after them as best he can in seeing the item in question at least? Or, he's trying to. This may mean he isn't paying quite as much attention to his surroundings as he should be though, and thus bump into people along the way.

Literally.

Or maybe he is just utterly lost in wandering and exploring in trying to find his way around this place. Pausing in one of the hallways and rubbing at the back of his neck.]

.....This place is like a maze.

Communications:

sjkgjskgjsgkjskj

hoi fgies thkso wiork?

[.....Sora never was the best with technology.....]

✦ Happy Un-birthday —

[ there are many questions to be had, all yet to be answered. lightning can accept that she is no longer where she is supposed to be; she is neither running nor fighting. it was all supposed to be over — perhaps that's the significance of the name of the place. temple of beginnings, astoria calls it. just as her journey had ended, now another starts anew.

she doesn't buy it completely — this rabbit hole with all its whimsy clamor and commotion. but the witch must have known; travelling between dimensions, something lightning has no experience prior, takes a lot of a person. she may no longer be fighting soldiers, but now she finds that her greatest enemy is the nausea she's been pitted against since her arrival. thus, tea becomes a welcome, natural remedy to some of her problems.

chamomile for the nerves, they said, as she becomes aware that her face has become sore with how deeply she's been frowning— still, she decides, resolutely, not to drink something that might relax her. the last thing she needs to do is relax, given the circumstances. but she will eye the rosehip tea and madeline cakes. she can be found by a high table, tea in front of her. but she glances over to you, seeing if you would eat or drink first, all the while bringing the tea to her lips. she hasn't yet sipped it, and it may be obvious to a keen observer. she has make sure it's not laced with anything that may harm her, after all? ]

✦ You're Late, You're Late —

[ this kind of magic is new to her. hell, all magic is new to her... and lightning was certainly never debriefed about the unseen servants. as such, she plays right into one particular mischievous servant when it snatches her weapon right from her sheath, running off with it. ] What—!! Hey— stop right there or you're dead!

[ lightning immediately bolts after it, and as they approach the corner, the unseen servant will toss the stolen weapon to you, in which will become abundantly clear that it's being pursued after. except when she takes the turn and sees you with her weapon, lightning assumes that you have finally decided to turn visible.

she's approaching fast, hand curled into a fist, and she's ready to pounce.

now it's up to you to choose: fight, or flight? the ball is literally in your court. ]

✦ Communications —

@lightning So how exactly does one spread good throughout the world?

✦ Wildcard + Notes —

[ feel free to throw me anything. pm if discussion needed but i can swing anything. also, it's extremely unlikely that i will be able to app this round since i have a pretty busy rest of the month, in case anyone else is thinking of apping her... ]

Edited 2019-01-21 06:04 (UTC)

happy unbirthday.

( she finds the adjustment from observer to attempted participant an easy enough transition— any plans to ensconce herself in some quiet corner and find reprieve are dashed once she's gotten to the kitchen anyway. for Teresa, it's an interesting inconvenience, which is the most tolerable kind; the incessant clatter and fuss that accompanies this kind of thing is easy to be swept away in when one allows it. people seem to orbit central attractions, some layout of various things of sweet scenes and sweeter tastes.

she wears her smile placid as she watches, pleased to note no groans of agony or sudden contractions of unbearable pain. if anything is poisoned, it's slow-working, and she hardly seems the only prudential one present. people are certainly making interesting choices, while some stay indecisive and suspicious, lingering and allowing others to serve as test subjects to their own temptations.

watching is fun, but waiting gets a bit boring. she leans in close, arms folded to make the intrusion as small as possible, and allows a faint lilt of interest in her tone. ) You won't die.

( she glances over, baiting for eye contact. )

Some people act funny on it. Or so I've heard.

( and seen. quite a bit now. her smile stays faint, but there's a bit of an attempt for involvement in her eyes, like someone capturing whatever proximity to camaraderie they can. )

Then again, people drink to feel funny when they're in stressful situations. Are you stressed?

Off With Your Head

( nary a jump or jolt from this one. when the gates shut, she's choosing to focus on the person accompanying her instead, ready to assess if they're going to be an asset or an obstacle.

a soft, "what's this?", and she's holding her given card close to her chest after an obliged glance, tapping its edge once at the dip of her clavicle. if this is to be a spectacle, so be it — she's only hoping her partner can keep up. )

You. ( not quite demanding when delivered so kindly. ) You got one of these as well, right?

( she holds the card between two fingers, facing it away in what's probably an unnecessarily mysterious move. )

The good thing about our predicament is if we don't need to get along. Just show me yours and I'll get us out.

Wildcard.

( if you're unsure, pm me, but most things can be rolled with. )

1. TEMPLE OF BEGINNINGS.

[So rooms are ripe for the claiming, are they? So there are empty rooms abound for newcomers, huh? That doesn't appeal to Mettaton as much as finding already furnished quarters, and it just so happens he's picked yours.

Upon returning to your room, there's an unfamiliar, anachronistic object residing within, a metallic rectangle juxtaposed against the natural stone and linen. It might be easy to assume that this is somebody's unwanted trash, if not for the way he props himself up in a lounging position against his arm, cradling his body with a hand.

He's on your bed, and as soon as you enter, his screen lights up bright yellow.]

WELL WELL WELL. ENTERING WITHOUT KNOCKING, ARE WE...? HOW NAUGHTY. THE AUDACITY OF SOME PEOPLE.

[...This is your room. Isn't it?]

NO WORRIES, BEAUTIFUL. I'LL ALLOW IT. HOW COULD YOU ABSTAIN FROM ENTERING, KNOWING I AWAIT WITHIN? YOU MUST BE BARELY ABLE TO CONTAIN YOUR CURIOSITY! AND ANYWAY. IT ISN'T AS THOUGH THESE DOORS HAVE A PROPER LOCK ON THEM!

[Mettaton flourishes with his free hand in a shrug, but stays put.]

2. HAPPY UN-BIRTHDAY.

CAN'T TAKE YOUR EYES OFF ME, CAN YOU, DARLING?

[It's as if he can't stop doing really obnoxious things in multiple different locations! What a treat! Mettaton's cleared part of the table in order to accommodate his boxy figure, where he reclines against a mess of pillows while seemingly sipping a cup of tea. He holds one finger out high and elegant, but it's hard to determine if it's his pinkie: he only has three fingers and a thumb. Nonetheless, it's hard not to stare: he's made himself a fixture of the table more imposing than the spread of food.

More curiously, there is no mouth for him to receive this serving of tea. He brings it back up to the area just beneath his screen, which displays the letter "M" on it in red against yellow. He... sips. Maybe.]

INSTEAD OF LOOKING ON LIKE A LOVESTRUCK SPECTATOR, WHY NOT JOIN ME? I'M NOT SO UNTOUCHABLE THAT I WOULD DENY YOUR COMPANY! SURELY YOU DIDN'T COME IN HERE JUST TO WATCH AN INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE ROBOT SIP HIS TEA, DID YOU??

[You could accept. There are all sorts of various effects you could be unfortunately burdened with, and Mettaton, none at all.]

3. OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.

[The tables have turned. Mettaton is so used to being the one in charge of the performance that, upon passing the tantalizing golden gates and rolling onto red carpet that seems so in his element, he doesn't realize that he's arrived on stage with somebody already there. The gate slams shut.]

OH MY.

[Before he gets a chance to address his company, they are both presented with cards and become assigned actors-in-arms. Mettaton holds it in front of him and regards it in silence, the tiles of his screen individually alternating between red and yellow at random while he considers his "role".

A heart manifests in red upon his visage. Mettaton skips right to the act, clasping together his hands and facing their audience.]

ONCE UPON A TIME, A PRINCESS EXISTED. [Mettaton pauses, allowing the cliché to resound in the arena before he plants one hand on his "hip" and gestures impatiently with the other.] ...YOU ALL KNOW HOW THE STORY GOES: LONELY PRINCESS YEARNS FOR ETERNITY SPENT WITH ENCHANTING PRINCE. FINALLY, SHE MEETS HIM, THE LOVE OF HER LIFE. FINALLY, SHE HAS FOUND HER PLACE IN THE WORLD, AND CAN REST EASY AT THE SIDE OF HER NOBLE PRINCE. HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

BUT WHAT OF THE PRINCESSES WHO DON'T WANT A PRINCE? WHAT OF THE PRINCESSES... LIKE ME? [He presses the back of his hand to the rough equivalent of his "forehead", his screen flickering dim yellow. The robotic star continues on in a voice terribly ill-suited for a princess in its deep, mechanically auto-tuned tones.] NOT ONLY DOES THE VERY NOTION OF MARRYING OFF TO AN INEXPERIENCED PRINCE BORE ME, BUT NONE OF THE PRINCES I'VE EVER MET APPRECIATE ME FOR WHO I TRULY AM INSIDE. DAYS GO BY AND I YEARN NOT FOR A PRINCE, BUT FOR AN EXCEPTION TO THAT TIRED TALE!

[He sobs quietly, covering his screen with his hands. Maybe it's time for this to turn into a dialogue?]

4. WILDCARD.

[Hit me with something else. Hell, you can even pick any of the prompts and approach it differently i.e. off with your head, but with a different set of cards. I'll work with it.]

un-birthday

[ free items? good shit. instead of seating themself like a proper guest, kris opts to shove the madelines and lady fingers into their pouch. they stop, however, to reach for a silver spoon and address the many cups of tea splayed across the table. the spoon slowly enters the tea.

they watch in silence before drawing the spoon back out. ]

Huh.

[ they glance at you, eyes still concealed by their bangs. ]

Max out your HP.

off with your head

[ it isn't anything they aren't used to. the card materializes in their hand. the tuck it beneath their armor plate. and without a single word, they walk to the center of the arena.

silence overtakes the court. kris stares at the audience — hard.

and then they raise a leg. it extends gracefully, their other foot arching until they're en pointe.

they then begin to pirouette.

the audience observes, interested. their eyes widen in unison. and then kris stops, leaps, and extends a hand to you.

they seem to be inviting you to dance.

> accept
> decline ]

communications

@kaseyf
whats poppin auughghhgh
its lit in here huh

i. you're late

Hey, wait—!!

[Not that Miles even knows who or what he's shouting at, but that's definitely his mask being whisked away in midair, somehow just always out of his reach. He's running at top speed trying to get it back, yanking and grabbing only to get empty air. There's a good chance you'll get a gangly teenager barreling into you as he tries to catch up, but on the off chance Miles actually manages to think ahead when he spots you in his flying mask's path:]

Sorry, but can you help me get that? That mask, the black one, heading straight for you— I'd appreciate it!

[Help a kid out?]

ii. communications

soooo, anyone else here know what "alice in wonderland" is?

iii. wildcard

[lmk if you'd like to do something else! i'm more than likely game for it.]

Edited 2019-01-21 10:41 (UTC)

[ARRIVAL]
[It is a juxtaposition between where she had been to where she is now. It's not the weather, or the changes that seem to occur in the few minutes it takes her to assess the situation. The heat to the snow is strange, yes, but after all this time, Carolina has seen stranger. It's not even the vertigo that plays in her stomach, as she'd still been recovering from being locked in her armour. That has been normal as Carolina has certainly not been at the top of her game.

Rather, it's the lack of people that worries her, in particular certain Sim Troopers in a variety of colours that vaguely fall under the category of Red and Blue. Her comms prove useless, picking nothing up from anyone that she tries to hail, and as she gives her stomach a few seconds to settle, she knows that something has happened. She just doesn't know what, and that's going to gnaw at her. Her suit appears to be fine, although she's lacking all her weapons, not that that has ever slowed her down, but it does bring a frown under her helmet.

Even going through her memories yields nothing, and with a sigh, the armoured individual straightens. Another mess. So be it. It's not the first mess that she's found herself in and she knows that it's not going to be the last mess either. They do keep appearing, and likely will until the day where she does finally meet her end. Flexing her hands, rolling her shoulders, she does note that she doesn't feel quite as drained as she had been, although there is still that edge of fatigue to her. Not enough to make her fall down again, and that is enough to have her set off through the ancient stone buildings.

She's dressed in that cyan (Greenish-blue, aquamarine, turquoise) armour, maybe an imposing sight, maybe a foreign sight to anyone who has never seen anything like it before. Yet anyone she runs across she is going to grill.]

Hey. You. I have some questions.

[YOU'RE LATE]
[She's ignored the feast that is going on, for while her stomach might give a little growl, she's not someone who is just going to go and start eating random food that has been left out. Others might, which is why she had lingered for a while, waiting to see if any familiar colours of armour would come in to view, but in the end, it had yielding nothing. There is a part of her that acknowledges that she likely would have heard something if they were here. Either a noise, or maybe something set of fire, or- well, she could go on all day in what they could have gotten up to.

What it means for her is that she's going to investigate this place further.

It is those little things that do catch her attention as she searches for clues, although at the same time she can't explain them as there is nothing there when she does move closer to look. A draft, maybe, that's fluttered the curtain, or just an old 'house' shifting. The tug on her hip where her grappling hook rests has her thinking for a moment that she's caught on something, but there's nothing nearby. If someone does happen to be nearby, her helmet turns towards them.]

Was that you?

[Slightly accusing, because don't touch her shit.

She does continue, mentally mapping the area out, searching every spot that she can find, although there are several times when she does enter a door, only to pause, fully armoured in the doorway.] That shouldn't-

[She's been off her game, but she hasn't been that far off of her game. Even when a door closes and Carolina is fully aware of what should be behind it when she exits, it's something else completely. Now it is just getting frustrating and someone is clearly messing with her. It's clear that whatever it is, there's not going to be an easy answer, so she works her way back to the entrance where she had started, and that's where she stays for the time, armoured body resting against a stone wall, mentally shuffling through what she has learned, little of it useful.]

[COMMUNICATIONS]
[text @carolina]
[She still isn't certain about any of this, and what, essentially this watch is, the other alternatives haven't yielded any results.]

I'm looking for any information that anyone has on individuals in armor.
In particular, Red or Blue.
Or various shades thereof.

[WILDCARD]
[Have at her. She will be in her armour for the time being. Feel free to run in to her, literally, anywhere.]

[ooc; will write to match whatever format]

𝟭. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

[ Thanks, Pepper hates this already.

She spends the first moments trying not to take a page out of Tony's book and have an outright panic attack. Goodness knows she's seen plenty of weird things lately that she once thought impossible, but this? This is a whole other ballgame. Eventually she gets a hold of herself enough to start thinking more rationally. Freaking out isn't going to solve this. Calmer but not really any more reassured, Pepper takes to wandering the temple, poking her head through open doorways to see if there's anything worthwhile inside and casing out the common areas. She isn't entirely sure what she's looking for; answers, maybe. This "Astoria" person. Anything or anyone who might help her figure things out.

She looks distinctly out of place in her corporate power suit and high heels among the less than modern spaces-- and she's probably also looking just as lost as she feels. H e l p please? ]

𝟮. 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘂𝗻-𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆

[ A tea party. It's quaint, cute even. At least until Pepper spies the signs, little instructions to go ahead and consume the tasty-looking morsels laid out. It instantly makes her suspicious. Where's the catch? She judges there's a 50-50 percent chance that there are strings attached to the offerings, considering the circumstances of being brought to this place by some otherwordly power in the first place. It's enough to give a girl some misgivings.

Still, the sight makes her wistful. There's nothing wrong with tea, she rather likes a cup every now and then. That doesn't stop her from sighing (mostly) to herself; ]

And not a cup of coffee in sight. [ She could really use some caffeine right about now. ]

𝟯. 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

So this superpower business is actually legit?
Anyone get anything interesting?

[ OOC: There will likely be spoilers for the end of RDR2 here; please be aware! ]

The Temple

[ This all still feels like a dream to Arthur. He shouldn't be here - he shouldn't be anywhere, really - and yet here he is. His last memory was the rising sun and the feeling of cold rock against his back. Pain and a slow sensation of falling, of encroaching darkness and then - then he doesn't remember anything until he woke up in warm grass under a different sky. Or it had been warm grass, up until it had started snowing and he'd been left cursing to himself about his lack of a coat. Fortunately, he'd been directed to this place. A temple or something, that looked like it belonged in a storybook or some old ruin over in Europe.

He'd never been, of course, but he'd read about them. Romans and Greeks and all of those other ancient civilizations.

Not quite as modern, he thinks. No electricity, no steam. He's roughed it in worse places before. Of course, he's also been healthier before. He's crossing between buildings when he feels that weakness and pain rush up to crush his chest again and he has to pause to lean against a stone pillar, covering his mouth with his fist as he's wracked by a fit of painful coughs. He's almost bent double, trying to catch his breath.

Well, that hasn't changed, apparently. ]

An Unbirthday

[ The spread that they're presented with is unreal to him. Then again, a lot of this is unreal to Arthur Morgan. A part of him is pretty sure he's dead and this is Hell or Heaven or something or maybe he's dying and he's just hallucinating every last bit of this. Either way, there's no where to go but forward.

He's not used to "polite" society. Definitely not. He can kind of fake it, but it's not like he grew up with this sort of thing. Like that garden party in Saint Denis, but... not quite as disgusting, in a way. Less of a slimy feeling. This is just surreal.

He regards the table for a long moment and then glances at a neighbor, slowly reaching out to pick up a teacup in a piss-poor imitation of high society, complete with extended pinky. ]

It's supposed to go something like this, isn't it?

[ He sounds just a little sardonic. ]

Wildcard

[ Feel free to hit him up in another place or location! Not picky and I'll roll with just about anything. ]

Edited 2019-01-21 18:34 (UTC)

𝐢. 𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓.

[Molly has absolutely no idea what happened. One minute, he's bedding down for the night after Hupperdook, and the next he's flat on his face in some bizarre place. And the only reason he knows it's not a dream is because he doesn't do a whole lot of dreaming and when he does it's either much weirder than this or much more unpleasant. Ergo. Something is wrong.

He's anxious about the fact that he seems to be missing his group, which is the first thing on his mind as he hunts through the Temple, but as soon as he finds the bathhouse... Literally nothing else matters. Bathhouses work miracles and it will provide him with the answers he needs. Also, he hasn't been in one since Zadash.

So yes, surprise. There's an extremely comfortable lavender tiefling looking like he's living his best life in one of the pools and as he hears someone approaching, and without opening his eyes, he laconically responds with:] I'm considering this my compensation for you kidnapping me to your temple. And if you could tell my friends where I am, that would be lovely. They're lost without me.

𝐢𝐢. 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐔𝐍-𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘.

[There's a saying for people with higher intelligence scores who have more than two years of memories- never eat the food in the Feywild. Unfortunately, Molly has never heard that phrase and would flick you off if you told it to him. Putting things in his gullet that he shouldn't is sort of his entire MO.

Also these are sweets and tea, and, like the bathhouse, suitable compensation for how fucked everything suddenly got.

(a. The chamomile tea does its work well. Molly had been planning to rest before he got here and between that, the bath, and the lovely sleepy tea, that corner does look particularly inviting... if not deeply uncomfortable. With heavy-lidded eyes, he seeks out whoever either looks sleepy or very cuddly and flails a hand out to get their attention.] C'mon, don't be shy. We're in this together, and sleeping alone in this situation is awful. [LET HIM CUDDLE YOU.]

(b. The Madeline cakes pretty much put Molly in a much, much more chipper version of his usual mood, so of course, he's making a grand ass out of himself, offering toasts and compliments over the silliest of things. Of course, if you're really grumpy and not here for this, he may retaliate by pushing into your space to make you deal with him at a closer angle... and also to pick your pocket. Because clearly you need a little less if you're in this kind of a mood. Jerk.

(c. And, finally, the scones.... Which to a consummate liar like Molly actually taste terrible. He's finished one, but he's frowning at the rest like they've personally offended him.] Are they supposed to taste like that?

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

[Molly has a Joker card, which says everything that needs to be said, but he's also leaning over the shoulder of the person who's walked in here with him to see what they've got too.] So. How good are you at being entertaining?

[Because he has Ideas. :) It's fine.]

Edited 2019-01-21 18:48 (UTC)

happy un-birthday

[ Vane, never being one to disregard a person's hard work, can't help but gravitate towards the large array of foods and beverages sorted out. It doesn't help that there's messages encouraging them to eat and drink -- it would be rude of him to simply ignore the effort that was put into all of this? Clearly? He has to show his appreciation for such a lovely party! ]

Whoa~ This is really delicious! I wonder what they put in these... [ He's genuinely curious! These cookies are divine. ] The grandmas back home can make somethin' a little better, but these are still really good!

[ Parched; Vane then looks for a drink to wash everything down. It only takes a moment for him to make a final decision on the rosehip tea, drinking without any hesitation -- whether or not someone should condemn him for sheer confidence or stupidity is still up for grabs. When he looks to the cup again there's nothing but a smile on his face, but the moment he lifts his head and turns to the person beside him that there's an evident change to his expression.

It's scary how immediate it is, and yet in his perspective it just feels so incredibly natural: his hammers against his chest, face flushed as his eyes go wide in surprise and... admiration? Whatever.

Vane immediately drops to a knee, grabbing this individual by the hand. ] W-W-W... Will you -- [ HE'S BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY... ALL HIS LIFE! ] Will you marry me!?

off with your head

[ The sound of the gate closing behind him earns a breath of surprise. His shoulders shoot up, hand moving to where his weapon should be before he recognizes that there is no immediate danger. Instead, there's a card that has manifested in his hand. Tilting his head one way, he examines the princess-like figure before flipping the card over to see the message written on the back. ]

Huh?

[ He switches between the picture and the message several times, evidently confused, until he finally releases a small chuckle; amused. The person trapped with him earns a smile, an attempt to lighten the blow of the situation with warm friendliness. ] So it's kind of like a talent show, yeah? Hey, what did you end up getting?

[i: unbirthday]

[When you enter the kitchen, you may encounter someone who looks rather strange. Stranger than usual, at least. He's a small man-- about two and a half feet tall-- dressed in nice-looking, if old-fashioned clothing with a purple beret on his long hair in a ponytail. You might be forgiven for assuming he was a child if not for the long, scruffy sideburns and general adult shape of his face.

He's also floating on what looks like a giant purple ethereal hand, perusing the snacks.] Oh, yeah. No, this looks totally legit. There is nothing suspicious about this buffet at all.

[He glances in your direction.] What do you think? Should I dispel magic? Or just... ah, hell, let's just go for it. More fun, right?

[ii: you're late]

[The unseen servants rush down the hall, in their hands a beautiful, slender sword with a silvered blade. Running behind them is the same small man.] Hi, yes, I'm going to really need you to put that sword down! I really need it, in theory!

[He mutters something, and then steps through a glowing purple door that appears out of nowhere; exiting right in front of the culprits.] Sic 'em, Simon II! Unseen Servant combat!

[Another Unseen Servant joins the fray!

In the process, the sword gets tossed... directly in your direction. Hope you're good at dodging.]

[iii: off with your head]

[Scanlan looks down at the card in his hand, depicting a jester. He then looks up at the court.] So... all we have to do is make an ass out of ourselves?

Great! That's my specialty. [A glance in your direction.] So, are you the tomfoolery type or the shenanigans type? Because I'm like, ten seconds from just mooning everyone in the room.

→un-birthday

[ It'd be extremely rude of him to not participate in his own welcoming party. Heh, of course that's what this is. From being chosen from the Gods themselves to being served with tea and pastries, they had truly rolled out the red carpet for him. Though he would've also accepted some kind of liquor, or money, or something.

Karamatsu chuckled to himself, trying to decide on where to start. Hm, maybe one of the Madeline cakes? And it might be good to wash it down with some Earl Grey, to show how classy he is. It's all so delicious!

Oh, but a fan approaches. Someone who's clearly here to enjoy the festivities and welcome him here, right? Well, there's only one thing for him to do. Pushing up his sunglasses, he laughs uproariously.

Obnoxiously. ]

Be merry, all! It's a true celebration! Let's party!

[ Oh god, he's loud. ]

→communications (video)

[ Music.

Karamatsu can be found sitting outside, staring at the sky, turning his head far enough to get his profile... even though he's having a hard time keeping the watch steady enough to keep it from looking compelling or decent in any way. He's broadcasting to everyone, silent for a good ten seconds before-- ]

Heh. [ Of course.] I've heard your world call out that it's in danger. Can you hear nature weeping silently, the breeze aching for someone to keep the Earth intact?

[ He chuckles a few more times. ]

I'd like you all to know... your trouble has come to an end.

[ And he begins to turn his head, slightly at an angle... ]

You can couOOOOOOOW!

[ He instantly feels the sharpest goddamn pain in his neck and the next thing you may be able to see is a first person view of someone rolling back and forth on the ground in sheer pain, yelling until the feed cuts out. ]

→wildcard

[ He's a Wild Man.

Hit me with what you have. ]

Beginning
[Ionasal is completely lost. This is the third time she's been dragged into another world, and it's never easy. It feels like a nightmare. If only she could pinch herself and wake up back in bed with her fiance. The most disturbing part is that she can't feel her connection with him. She can't feel anything beyond her regular senses with Oversight. So Ion can only call out to him with a fearful voice:]

Zero? Zero...Don't- please don't take him away from me... [Or take her away from him. She wants to go back. The thought of her not seeing her fiance again makes her heart race. With her hands trembling, she grips the front of her shirt as she struggles to breathe. It hurts, and her head won't stop spinning. A few snowflakes begin to fall with a quick temperature change, and Ion's almost certain this isn't because of her emotions affecting her surroundings. At that realization, she buries her face in her hands and begins to cry. Everything's a mess.]

Happy Unbirthday
[Once she's collected herself and gone inside the base, Ion stumbles across the kitchen. She should know better than to partake in suspicious food, but she's hungry and the scones look delicious. At least nothing seems to be different while she's eating it...]

Comms - text
How many of you have been to a different world before?

Edited 2019-01-22 02:07 (UTC)

happy un-birthday.
[ Eating and drinking in a magical land is a good idea in maybe 10% of fairy tales. Possibly less. Jun's natural suspicion also keeps him from actually consuming anything.

But everything does... smell good. Jun picks at a few of the labels, lifting plates and bottles to read the labels when the curiosity gets the better of him.

However, when he sees someone else reaching for anything, he doesn't quite keep his mouth shut. ]

You're not going to eat that, are you?

[ Because that would be stupid, his tone implies. ]

you're late, you're late.
[ He's supposed to have a roomto himself. He's also supposed to be able to walk through a door, turn around, and see the room he'd just left.

Of course it can't be that easy. Jun finds himself lost for the fifth time in about as many minutes, and for someone used to having a nearly infallible sense of direction, it's beyond frustrating.

So forgive him if he makes a strangled noise of annoyance loud enough to disturb people. It gets louder when he almost trips over an invisible obstacle in a somewhat comical way. ]

communications.
i feel like snow white in all of the worst ways.
do guns exist here.

[ OOC: Jun is a 25 y/o who could read minds and (badly) communicate with ghosts before his arrival here. He used to be a fake psychic with those powers. And now he can talk to and understand animals instead of any of that! ]

arrival;

[ Portals and the unknown are not unfamiliar to Edward, but waking up in a place where it's both hot one second and snowing the next isn't what he expected. He has to get to Central, has to dig his way out of the tunnels, but this? Is this one of Father's tricks? ]

A-Al? ...Teacher? Alphonse! [ The name claws its way out of his throat before he can gather himself. He pushes himself to his feet when thunder rumbles overhead, the snow melting away into a torrential downpour. ] What the hell?! [ He reaches out and touches one of the stone pillars and its carvings, nothing like he's ever seen before. He looks like he might throw up, pale around the edges and eyes wide, glassy. Did he fall through another gate, another portal? Has he failed everyone he loved?

He slams a fist into the stone, and might very well grab the first person he sees. ] Where the hell is this place?

unseen servants;

[ Ed was just minding his own business when something started tugging at his automail. Plucking at his fingers and the plates of his arm, until one finally gave a good, harsh yank, sending Ed tumbling across the floor, and into the feet of someone walking by. ]

H-hey! What was that for?! [ Whoops, he might think you're the one responsible. Never mind that the unseen servants might see Edward's automail as a problem. ]

communications;

id this thinj on?

[ ... so maybe he needs to take his time when he's texting. He's never done this before and to say he's impatient is an understatement. ]

Edited 2019-01-22 04:42 (UTC)

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