acatalepsy_ooc | test drive meme # 3

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test drive meme # 3

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 #3

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.

All you hear is a voice -- light, bubbly, warm, soothing, in your ear:

Don't worry, darling. This won't hurt a bit~ ♥

For those who recognize the voice, it will sound a bit strained. Possibly tired. But the moment happens so quickly it's hard to pin down, and once that moment is over, you fall flat on your face. It's bright, warm, and humid. It takes a few seconds for you to gain composure and catch your breath. You think, for half a moment, that a hand is on your back, rubbing between your shoulder blades in comfort, but when you open your eyes, no one is there. 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.

Even worse, it looks like the tinier inhabitants of the Forest of the Fey are acting a little cheeky.

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 -- the sprites that reside within the Forest of the Fey seem to be exceptionally active, today, and tricks abound wherever you look.

KINGS AND QUEENS.

Typically, the sprites of the Forest of the Fey remain within the protective canopy of the surroundings. However, there seems to be something different in the air, and these little bastards are flitting about and giving out flower crowns to everyone. They are beautifully made, intricate and gloriously decorative, and most people would be happy to adorn one!

There's just one problem, though -- they don't come off. No matter how hard you try, those damn flower crowns are stuck on your head, and you cannot remove them no matter how hard you try. Hope you enjoy being a fairy princess for a day.

And, if you are alighted with a flower crown, your skin turns the same color as whatever flowers now sit upon your head. A wreath of blue roses? Congratulations, Violet Beauregard -- you're now as blue as a blueberry. The effect wears off in about an hour, and you can remove the flower crown then -- but have fun being every shade of the rainbow as the sprites take their time to torment the new arrivals.

BALLOONS FOR EVERYONE.

Normally, there are some animals that wander within the ancient stone buildings of the Temple. Tiny little white bats, sheep that grow on the vine . . . that sort of thing. However, the sprites have elected to add a little bit more flair the Temple, and balloon animals have invaded the living space. Where the sprites got the idea for balloon animals, no one can really be sure -- Astoria seems to think the sprites are waltzing through the spirit realm and seem to have garnered an idea there, whatever that's supposed to mean.

So, no matter where you go, there are balloon animals. Little dogs, brightly colored fish, dinosaurs, giraffes . . . except they seem to move, and make noise, and act like their real counterparts. Tiny balloon dogs nip at your heels, balloon fish flicker about in the waters that sprinkle themselves throughout the Forest, and balloon birds float through the skies.

Bonus? If you pop them, they explode into (biodegradable) glitter.

DECAYED DECADENCE.

Despite the shenanigans from the sprites, however, there seems to be something happening within the Temple that may be cause of concern. Flower crowns and balloon animals aside, there seem to be odd spots of the Temple that suddenly wilt . . . flowers that bend over and wither at a moment's notice, saplings that seem to creak as if suddenly dried from the inside out . . . and it seems, oddly enough, that it happens whenever you, an Arrival, get closer to the wild life.

Astoria seems to think that something is wrong . . . perhaps something the Circle members brought back from their last trip. An illness, or something more? Care to poke about and see how far you're willing to take it? Or does your magical gift enable the protection of plant growth? Try out your green thumb and see if you can help.

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! ♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Something about Hank’s posture changes, tightens up, and a lot of the humor goes out of his face. Just that tone of voice goes a little way toward convincing him - well, not that this guy’s sane or sober, of course not, but at least that he ought to be more wary when he pokes fun at the bullshit. And then he offers to show Hank something like proof and Hank narrows his eyes, looking interested.]

I’m no historian but sure, that’d be worth taking a look at. But, wait, let me guess - you don’t have it on you.

[His voice goes high and mocking for a moment.]

‘Oh, I’m totally twenty-one, officer, I just left my ID at home!’ Right? This is that whole deal? Lemme tell you, kid, I’ve heard that one before.

[He grits his teeth.]

Obviously I don't carry around a whole extra set of clothes with me.

[Especially not some that say "look at me, I'm an escaped convict."]

But they're right back at the temple, so I can show you. Probably wouldn't even take 10 minutes, and you don't look like you have anywhere else to be.

[He considers this. He shrugs.]

Sure, walk me back somewhere private so you can kill me and eat my liver.

[He frowns out into the distance for a moment, listening for barks, then starts walking in the direction of whatever building strikes him as the most temple-y.]

So long as you find my dog and keep him fed, you can sacrifice me to whatever freaky temple shit you want. That sound like a deal?

[Hank's headed in the right general direction, so Firo walks alongside him and will eventually start steering them towards the run-down stone building that contains his room.

Firo's lip curls as he recalls not only slurping up Szilard's liver himself but also Dragon's vivid descriptions of chomping down on human flesh.

No thank you.]

That's disgusting. And if you brought a dog all the way here, you should be prepared to take care of him yourself. Don't pawn it off on others, especially if you don't know they're trustworthy.

[After giving an impromptu lecture on responsibility, Firo should probably let the guy know that he's seen a dog. But, you know.]

Oh my god, a lecture about responsibility. Meeting you really was a gift. So annoying some weird drunk guy into coming over to see your etchings is okay, but me making a joke about you taking care of my dog if you eat me, that was over the line? Are you sure you're not even a little bit high?

I already told you, we don't do that stuff.

["That stuff" being drugs, but it also applies to cannibalism, usually.]

How'd you even bring him, anyway?

[There were quite a few people with Firo when Astoria yanked him--he supposes he should be grateful he didn't drag any of them with him here, like Huey's knifed corpse.]

I didn't bring him anywhere, he was just here when I woke up. Hey, maybe he brought me, like some kind of magic reindeer dog. Does that slot into your crazy little witch world or are dogs not allowed?

It's not my world. I don't make or know the rules. For all I know, maybe Astoria just likes dogs.

[Firo stops outside the building and waves for Hank to do the same. He doesn't want to bring someone he barely knows into his room.]

Wait out here. I'll be right back.

[Hank grunts and leans against the wall. With nothing to do, he finds his eyes trying to close. He kind of zones for a little bit, and yawns whenever the kid comes out.]

So you don't wanna get me alone, huh? Guess you're not a mad axe murderer after all.

[Firo shrugs.]

Nobody with any sense wants to invite a strange drunk guy into their room.

[Without another word, he hands the neatly folded blue chambray shirt to Hank and then crosses his arms. The shirt is clearly a little worn, but only from typical use--this is no antique dug out of a museum. And there's the "USP Alcatraz" label inside and on the back.]

[Hank muffles another yawn against a fist and takes the shirt, looking over it.]

This isn't even that old. Could be a recreation, some people go in for that. You do know that the simplest explanation for this is still that you're just a really dedicated cosplayer, right?

[Firo slumps against the wall and presses one hand against his forehead.

All that for nothing... He thought for sure he had it.]

It's not old because Alcatraz opened months ago, back in the summer. I was only there for a couple weeks when I got brought here.

And why exactly would I wanna make something that makes me look an escaped con, huh? You know if I walked around wearing that in public back home they'd shoot first and ask questions later.

I don't know about you, but where I come from a lot of girls go in for that whole convict thing. Some guys too. There's plenty of reason why someone'd be nuts enough to want to be one, people got some pretty twisted minds, you know?

[Hank holds the shirt out, offering it back to him.]

They really put prisoners in like, normal blue shirts? What if one of your idols escaped and some poor guy was wandering around nearby who just really liked the color blue, how do the cops know they're not gonna shoot him by accident?

[Why would he care what girls are into? Firo holds onto that response, though, embarrassed that it's even come up, and is actually grateful when Hank moves on from that point.

Firo takes the shirt, holding it to show Hank the back.]

I'm gonna venture a guess that most normal blue shirts don't say "USP Alcatraz" on the back. The innocent civilians are safe as long as they're not dumb enough to go writing that on their clothes.

[Plus, since in his time the get-up is so obviously "federal inmate," he can't imagine anyone wearing it willingly outside prison. And it doesn't occur to him that times might've changed in 20-whenever-the-hell.]

Anyway, don't ask me why the feds do what they do. If you'd met any of those guys, you'd know they're a buncha blabbering morons. The Bureau of Investigation really knows how to pick 'em.

[Thinking of you, Victor. Fuck you, wherever the hell you are right now.

Of course, the BI doesn't actually decide on prison uniforms, but Firo figures all feds are essentially the same.]

[Hank laughs.]

Hey, what the fuck? What do you know, something we can agree on. Fuck the feds.

[Hank holds out a fist. Fistbump him, you weird wannabe-convict asshole, and seal the bond of mutual dislike.]

[Firo blinks at the sudden change--but, hey, fuck the feds! A lopsided smile appears on his face, but he considers Hank's fist because... what does that mean. He'll just offer his hand for a handshake and hope that that's what Hank was going for.

As if he's not making this super awkward with his ignorance of fistbumps, Firo nods at the same time.]

Fuck the feds. What's your beef with 'em?

[Hank considers the kid's hand for like, less than a second before he decides to fistbump the open palm anyway. Look at that, they made it work.]

Eh, it's not so much that they take our cases as the way they take em, you know? Like, 'ooh, you oughta be so grateful you got to be in the same room with the FBI, how bout you bend down and kiss our ass for the privilege', you know? They're not all that terrible, yeah, but even the good ones are a little bit up their own ass. They must put something in the water up there at their headquarters, I don't know.

[OK! Apparently this is how people do it in this guy's time. But they've made it work.

Too bad this camaraderie founded on mutual hatred is probably going to vanish in 3, 2, 1...]

Eh, who knows. I know a cop who got poached by the feds, and he was an ass even before he joined.

[A pause as Firo rewinds Hank's words. Wait. He glances sidelong at Hank. Sighs. Fights the urge to punch himself in the face.]

"Take your cases"..? So you're a cop?

[Oh god damn it. But, seriously now, a cop walks around dressed like that? He just looks like a bum!]

[A cop who's a bum! A bum who's (occasionally) a cop! Come and see the amazing spectacle. He walks! He talks! He blows chunks on himself and passes out! Hank's a multitasker.]

Well, yeah. Didn't I say that? What, you worried I'm gonna cuff you with my boxers and drag you away to witch-jail?

[Boxer cuffs are a horrific image, and Firo rears back in disgust while immediately trying to erase it from his mind. His tone is pure disbelief.]

You're a cop and they let you walk around like that? Edward woulda' wrung your neck if he worked with you!

[He's not sure whose side he would've been rooting for, in that case. And it's not even just the boxers but the hair and the... everything.]

What?

[Hank leans back, all the better to lean on the wall all cool-like with one arm and do a slow, sleepy wave for emphasis with the other.]

Okay, I get it. You think we all live in the precinct together, like, paint each other's toenails in our off time and gossip about who's out of uniform. So that's where I must of been zapped from, right? Or I was out patrolling and then this witch bippity boppity boomed me here. That's how you're uh, thinking my night went?

I don't--

[He is sounding pretty defensive since minus the toenail painting that is pretty damn similar to what he would've thought. Maybe with a bit more perp beating and such, but similar.]

So what were you doing?

[Come on, Firo, do you really want to know?]

[Oh yeah, Firo, there's totally competitive police brutality too but only on Tuesdays, after the boys all get together for meatloaf night.]

Well. [Hank sucks at his teeth, thinking, looking serious.] I started out frolicking in a field of wildflowers, helped a couple dozen little old ladies over the crosswalk, was thinking of putting on a tapdancing show at the children's hospital next but this was just all I could find to wear.

What could I possibly have been doing, kid? Look at me.

[Look at him. Smell him. For fuck's sake.]

[No thank you.

Thanks to their frail bond over hating federal investigators, Firo doesn't try to make a barb about Hank's recreational activities (yet). He just looks him up and down very superficially, wrinkles his nose a little, and goes back to looking out ahead of them.]

Huh. Guess you got a pretty rude awakening.

You know, you can get actual clothes around here if you ask.

Oh yeah? What a fancy little magic hotel you've got here. Think they'd make me some cool prison duds like yours?

[There's not even any reason to antagonize this guy any more, but fuck, what else is he going to do? All this shit is impossible. It's impossible and he doesn't have a single experience in his life that tells him how to deal with it. What he does have experience with? Pissing people off. It's comforting.]

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