TDM: OCTOBER 2023

[citycenter]

TEST DRIVE MEME

JUMP TO MONTHLY PROMPT ↓ A TRAIN COMES INTO THE STATION. You wake up on a train. Your phone is buzzing. It's in your pocket, in your hand, on the seat next to you. It's a normal phone, and you're on a normal train car. One of the lights flickers, a little further down. The world is very quiet. It feels like you're right where you're meant to be. On the phone's surface is a white screen and the words— WELCOME TO THE CITY. BEGIN ORIENTATION? ▶ YES ▶ NO Please take a moment to complete your orientation. Once you're finished, the subway doors slide open to let you out onto the train platform. To your right, the platform continues on and eventually ends; to the left is a set of stairs that will lead you up into the station itself. The platform is quiet, clean, empty—there's no one else around, and the only sounds you can hear are your own footsteps, your own breaths, and the occasional faraway sound of a creaking pipe or rush of air. The train you disembarked will stay there as long as you do, its doors still open, until you finally decide to venture up into this new locale. As you make your way up the stairs to your left, you find yourself in the belly of City Hall station. The station is large, a sprawling underground mini-metropolis of corridors and storefronts. Here, you may find others like you, freshly-arrived city residents from other realms (or even your own). There is also a subway map, which will give you an idea of the layout of the neighborhood, and ticketing machines, which can currently only be used to buy tickets to a handful of stations located on lines 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 9. If you're hungry or in need of any kind of supplies, there are plenty of storefronts inside the subway station as well—snack stands, convenience stores, restaurants, clothing stores, a pharmacy, and a variety of empty shops that may or may not have ever been in use. Everything is unlocked, and you can take whatever you need. Characters may stay on the train platform indefinitely, and may re-board and re-disembark from the subway as many times as they like, but the train will not depart nor will the doors close. Once they go up the stairs into the train station, they may hear the train doors closing and the train departing. Another train will not arrive, no matter how long the character waits. Only once they come up the stairs into the station itself may characters encounter their fellow newly-arrived residents and take advantage of what the city has to offer. JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD. The station is located in the city center. It has three major exits that lead to areas of interest in the district, but there are several other smaller exits that lead in other directions around the neighborhood. You are welcome to use any of them, but may find the north, southwest, and east exits to be the most welcoming. TO THE NORTH The northern entrance to the station leads up into the sunlight and puts you out in a brickwork plaza. There's a modest building in front of you, three or four stories of stone with a welcoming facade. There's a sign above the entryway—it says City Hall. You may be tempted to explore, if you're interested in learning more about the city and how it functions, but prepare to find yourself disappointed—the folders in the records rooms are full of empty, blank sheets of paper, and the logbooks and balance sheets are similarly devoid of information. Immediately to the southwest of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. It looks welcoming, with an inviting glass facade and a sign above the entryway announcing it as the "TOURIST CENTER." It's a humble building with a receptionist's desk on the back wall opposite the entrance, empty magazine shelves lining the side walls, and a few spinning brochure racks full of blank pamphlets. Anyone is welcome to peruse the tourist literature, though they won't offer much information, being primarily filled with pictures of the surrounding area—City Hall, the park, a statue garden, and the surprisingly heavily-featured cemetery. There are a few sentences sprinkled throughout about basic offerings of the city, such as apartment complexes and office buildings, as well as a few maps with the same limited scope as the larger version on the wall behind the receptionist's desk. The main feature of the tourist center is the interactive kiosk installed dead in the center, right in the middle of a few rows of uncomfortable chairs that fill the small room. It's noticeably in the way of any would-be foot traffic through the tourist center, and something about the technology seems a little more modern than the computer behind the desk or the landline phone on the wall. The kiosk is a tall silver rectangle, about average adult height, and the upper half is a screen welcoming visitors to touch it to activate the kiosk. If you were to touch it, the screen would come to life with simple dialogue inviting visitors to ask it their questions. However, residents should note that the kiosk is only programmed to assist with exploration within the available areas of the city. It may not be able to answer every question, and tampering with the kiosk may result in unreliable or inaccurate answers! TO THE SOUTHWEST The western exit of the station takes you up into a city park, lush and green with a very light fog still hanging about the trees. There are lampposts on the walkways and benches where you could rest, and plenty of flora, although you can neither see nor hear any signs of animal life. You walk the paths that meander idly through the verdant grass and you feel a sense of peace, some of your unease about this place easing into a pleasant calm. The air smells fresh, like it's recently rained, and you'll find the grass ever so slightly damp should you decide to take a seat. As you make your way deeper into the park, the trees grow denser and the smell of soil and plant life grows stronger. This is the older part of the park, very nearly a forest, with ivy climbing the trunks of the trees and plants and shrubs growing riotously around their bases. As you turn a corner, you find yourself first in the statue garden, although the statues are harder to see now, choked as they are with ivy. There are many statues, some partially obscured, some fully—very few of them still stand free of the vines and clinging roots. (It doesn't feel quite as peaceful here.) If a statue's face looks a little bit familiar, you may not want to look at it too long. Continue down the path and you will find yourself in a graveyard, one that seems centuries old. Most of the headstones are worn away by time and covered in moss, rendering them impossible to read. The few that are free of moss are blank, or bear only suggestions of names too faint to be understood. (Was that the name of—no, it couldn't have been. Could it?) Many of the headstones stand at an angle or are toppled over completely, having been subjected to either strong winds or the roots of the trees that grow up from some of the graves, spreading branches toward the sky. TO THE EAST The final exit of the station, to the east, puts you out on a quiet surface street. Are you hungry? Or are you paralyzed by choice? There are plenty of restaurants, offering options of almost any food you can imagine. You could try a convenience store—it's well stocked, and the items there seem free for the taking. How about a restaurant? There's no one to take your order, but when you look in the kitchen, there's something on the stove, and it's just what you've been craving. Imagine that. A few blocks down, you come in through the lobby of a tall building and find yourself in a corporate office. The fluorescent lights are steady and unforgiving, and the cubicles and offices are empty. There are a few pieces of paper on desks, a few folders left in organizers, but everything is perfectly blank. Despite how empty and quiet the office is, it nonetheless gives you the feeling that just a few minutes ago, this place was bustling with workers going about their daily business. You enter another building and find yourself in the lobby of an apartment complex—finally, a place to rest. The first door you try opens easily into a completely empty living room, freshly vacuumed but without a single piece of furniture. It's a nice apartment, quiet, but with a little too much echo for your taste, maybe. Still, and perhaps oddly, you have no trouble envisioning what life here would be like. The second door you open leads to an apartment that feels lived-in. Why does it feel lived-in? It's fully furnished with items that seem to go together perfectly, true, but the feeling is more than that—the room feels like someone was just here, maybe standing right in the kitchen only moments before you swung the door open. The air is a perfectly comfortable temperature, and it somehow smells like home despite that you've never once set foot here before. The refrigerator is stocked, and the cabinets are full of spices and flatware and kitchen utensils. As you look around the living room, you find that there are pictures in frames on the walls and some of the flat surfaces—a seascape, a field, a shot of a city park bench. In each of the photos there's something just slightly wrong with the angle, as though the photographer were aiming for a subject that can no longer be seen. Characters are welcome to explore the district around the City Hall subway station to their heart's content. The City Hall building itself contains several floors of offices and file rooms, but none of them contain any particularly interesting information. Nonetheless, characters may wish to team up with other newcomers and try to find some hints about the nature of the city. They can also spend a while in the park, the statue garden, or the graveyard. In the blocks surrounding the station there are plenty of options for food and housing, as well as office buildings, storefronts, and alleyways to look around. There are no workers in any of the buildings, and there does not seem to be an honor system for payment, nor any consequences for taking food from the stores or setting up camp in an apartment or office building. JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS THE POISON'S IN THE DETAILS. CONTENT WARNINGS: Monthly prompt includes the potential for body horror, including: mold or fungus; spores; and hanahaki-like symptoms. It also includes the potential for violence, mutilation, or death. Please label potentially triggering content in subject headers and interact responsibly with threads! With the cacophony of the fun fair now gone, packed up and sent away for another year, the southern half of the park is now empty. That doesn't mean that the park itself is without attractions, though: up in the northern corner, sprawling out across the green, is a curious garden full of winding paths and draping trees, and within it, the smaller poison garden, where a variety of different flowers blossom and bloom along the gravel path. From roses to gladiolus, tulips to belladonna, this garden has many flora that residents may recognize from their homes, and some that they most certainly will not. As residents walk along the paths, observing and smelling and—for the brave—touching these plants, they will encounter a long wooden table, stretched out in the midst of fresh cut green grass. This table has been decorated for a party, though it seems that all the guests must be late. A strange variety of different sized chairs and cushions have been set out along the long length of the table; it seems to fit at least twenty people, maybe even more. Small dishes and porcelain tea cups lay in random design across the off-white table cloth, used flower doilies and half-folded napkins tucked here and there as though someone left in a hurry. Even stranger still, there are six large, ornate pots of tea, scattered about the table, each warm to the touch and, you guessed it: full of tea. You suddenly find yourself craving a cup, and tuck into one of the chairs to pour yourself some... ...but you didn't think that it would be that easy, did you? Once you've swallowed a mouthful, or even your whole cup, your body starts to feel strange. Depending on the color—or flavor—of the tea you're drinking, you're going to experience some side effects: Color Flavor Effect Red Hibiscus: This tart and fruity tea is naturally sweet. You will begin vomiting blood. The amount is up to your body's reaction. The correct antidote will fix you. Yellow Jasmine: This tea has a light, floral note, and is slightly sweet. You will hallucinate something terrifying near you, and may lash out and attack those around you. The correct antidote will fix you. Blue Pea Flower: This brilliantly-colored tea has a very delicate, woody flavor. You will gradually begin losing one of your senses (sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch). The correct antidote will fix you. Black English Breakfast: This is a full body tea, with rich undertones and a bold flavor. Something very terrible will begin happening to your body: your hair may start falling out, you may become covered in hives, or your skin may start opening into sores. The correct antidote will fix you. Green Green: This tea has a very clean, grassy flavor, like the earth. You will begin to transform into a terrifying creature or animal of your choosing. The correct antidote will fix you. Orange Ginger: This is a tea with a warming, slightly spicy taste. After drinking, you will suddenly fall into a death-like coma. A kiss may wake you, or the correct antidote. In a panic, you look for something to help you. Just beyond the table, tucked away into a wall of ivy, is an old wooden shelf, the lettering nearly worn all away on it. Little packets of seeds line the tiered shelves; there are no pictures on them, but the packets themselves seem to all be different colors—and you may notice that the colors match the colors of the various teas on the table. Ripping open the packet that matches the color of your tea, you find it contains actual seeds—will you swallow them and risk a plant growing in your stomach, just to see if it will counteract the effects of the tea? Oh, surely that's the stuff of fairytales, isn't it? Residents are welcome to explore the various paths around the outside of the garden, observing plants and flowers of their choosing. The tea party is open to all, and the tea will continue to be brewed somehow, no matter how many people drink it. Players can choose the extent of the negative effects on their character, or have their character remain unaffected by the tea entirely. In order to get rid of the negative effects, characters must either find the correct seed packet that matches their tea and eat the seeds, or wait twenty-four hours for the symptoms to subside. The seeds will not do anything but cure the character—though they're welcome to think something awful might happen. The tea party cannot be destroyed, and items that are moved from the table can only be moved within the perimeter of the poison garden. Characters are unable to steal things from the tea party; they will mysteriously return back to the table if taken beyond the aforementioned border. The tea party will remain there permanently, though the negative effects of the tea will mysteriously disappear after November 1st. JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS A DROP OF BLOOD OR A DROP OF EGO. At the apex of the path that winds around the poison garden is a large greenhouse that looks like it has seen better days. The panels are filthy, covered in dust and dirt and grime, and the doors creak on their hinges when you open them. Inside, the air is hot and musty, but the smell of herbs and spices fill your senses, letting you enjoy the atmosphere. The greenhouse is clearly separated into two different paths: the one to the left has a hanging sign which reads "DEADLY BEAUTIES" and the one to the right has a hanging sign which reads "BEAUTIFUL DEADLIES". Heading to the left, you decide to observe the various plants there. Shelf upon shelf of various potted plants watch you as you go past; some of them snap at the air, veiny teeth grasping for the delicious meat of fruit flies and ants, and some of them threaten to touch you, with vines that roll and curl outward for just a shivering touch. Overhead, tangles of vined plants and spiked ivy mix together, an oppressive shadow that makes you feel as though you're trapped in this place as you walk through. Be careful: these carnivorous plants might be beautiful, but they won't hesitate to get a little too friendly with you. The floor is caked with dirt, but some of those brown stains might not just be from mud and dust, smeared by shoe heels and work boots. These plants might want a taste of blood. Heading to the right, you find yourself in a beautiful space, the flowers so large they seem almost overwhelming. Have the plants gotten bigger, or have you simply gotten smaller? Gorgeous purple blossoms, pink petals, bright blue flowers and speckled white flowers cower and bend to cast you under them, like a flower-patterned umbrella sheltering you from the rain. The further you walk under them, however, the more you get the feeling that they're not just there to watch over you: they're there to explore you. At first, it's just a few gossipy whispers, so quiet you might not think they're real; then it's full-blown voices, the flowers bending and twisting as though to speak to each other in harsh, judgmental tones. What are they talking about? Well, they're talking about you—your secrets, your opinions, the things you don't want anyone else to know. These flowers are spilling your tea, and anyone walking along with you is going to hear it. The back of the greenhouse—if you make it there—has the same doors as the front. They open back out onto the winding, circular path of the poison garden, where you can head back home...or experience the whole thing over again. The greenhouse is rather large, and characters are welcome to walk through it along any path they wish. The carnivorous plants will possibly nip and bite at your characters, or try to restrain them, but they aren't very strong and can easily be broken away from. Feel free to imagine as much of a struggle as you wish, but they will not inflict any kind of mortal wounds on characters. The giant, oversized flowers will tell your character's secrets or their deepest darkest opinions—this is open to player choice. The flowers cannot be attacked or hurt, and the only way to get them to be quiet is for someone OTHER than the character they're talking about to scold them or tell them to be quiet. Alternatively, if you can walk the path hand in hand with another character, this will also cause them to go quiet. Plants cannot be taken from the greenhouse or killed, and they cannot be dug up from their pots. The greenhouse itself also cannot be destroyed, and any fire lit in the greenhouse will be immediately extinguished by an overhead sprinkler system. This place is meant for enjoyment and admiration, not crime! JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS WILDCARD. The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There are even some places that other residents have created! There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back. If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations. We highly recommend checking out the Character-Run Locations as well - they might be great places for new characters to get started! JUMP TO TOP ↑

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TDM QUESTIONS.

[citycenter]

Please direct all TDM-specific questions below. If you have a general question about the game premise or mechanics, please direct it to the FAQ page. Our taken page is here so you can see who is already in the game!

As a reminder, TDM top-levels should only be posted by potential new characters. Existing characters are encouraged to tag in, but should not top level; however, players may use the TDM prompts for catch-alls in the log comm.

Please include your character's name and character's canon in the subject line of your top level. Happy TDMing!

[immortalpoet]

When a character transforms into a creature via the tea effect, is their mind affected by the transformation as well?

[gripper]

Not to be that person (sorry), but what happens if a character is killed or kills while they're under the effects of the tea? I'm thinking mostly about the transformation one tbh. Do the same City rules apply, do we have to let you know, is the character cured of their creepy creature form... etc.

[scowlish]

How little of the tea would cause effects? If someone dipped their finger in and tasted their finger, would full effects apply?

[fauned]

hi, creature here.
is there a size limit to the terrifying creature/beast?

would it also be safe to assume that if they came with innate abilities (like say, a basilisk with a petrifying gaze) they'd be without those, or would it be a nerfed (20%) version of whatever they might come pre-built with?

annnddd last question, are humanoid creatures (dryads, hags, etc.) or partially humanoid (centaur, sphinx, etc.) ok, or do they have to be fully bestial in nature? unless it's all free game..

thank you!

[inlovewithmycar]

Okay a few questions!

Can repairs be made to the greenhouse (i.e. oiling the door hinges, cleaning the glass, replacing any damaged panes) and will they stick?

Can other plants be brought into the greenhouse to be grown or would the present occupants just kill any newcomers?

Can cuttings be taken from roses? And by extension, can any fruits/seeds/nuts/bulbs that the plants produce be harvested and grown elsewhere?

Jane Shepard || Mass Effect

[myflexibility]

Subway Station/The City

[Shepard was highly confused. She also wasn't happy with this. She frowned as she looked around. She had a threat to take care of and this wasn't helping at all. Her weapons were gone. All of them. She didn't like being unarmed in a strange place. She needed to get back to the Normandy. She tried the comm in her armor but all she got was static. She swore under her breath as she began to explore the city. She can be found strategically moving throughout the city.]

(OOC: Feel free to run into the angry Shep anywhere in the city. I will roll with whatever!)


The Poison's in the Details

[After exploring the city, she noticed the garden and decided to go see what was there. It reminded her of some of the gardens on the Citadel. Maybe there she could quiet the thoughts that were racing though her mind the longer she was stuck here. The flowers were kind of calming. She slowed her steps, but continued to move as she looked over the different flowers.

The tea party was highly suspicious though. She tried to keep herself away from it, but something kept drawing her closer. She gently pressed the back of her hand to one of the pots. Still warm. Why did she suddenly want to have some? Before she realized it, she had already poured a cup and took a sip...

...and instantly regretted it. The red tea she had tried caused a violent reaction in her body. She coughed as she fell to her knees, vomiting. What came up was just as red as the tea. This wasn't good.]

Shit.

[She looked around as she tried to get back on her feet before more coughing and retching started.]


A Drop of Blood or A Drop of Ego

[The last place that Shepard wanted to be was a greenhouse. Especially after what happened with the tea party. Still, she went inside and took the left path. She could handle some potentially violent plants, even without her weapons.

She paused for a moment to give a flat look to a plant that wanted to take a nibble when a vine tried to wrap around one of her wrists. She easily pulled her hand away and glanced around. She needed to get out of here, but she heard someone else in the greenhouse and she couldn't leave a civilian alone.]

poison garden

[killed]

[ Oh dear. It's a poison garden, and so he did expect somebody to be poisoned, but that doesn't mean seeing some poor soul throwing up blood was on today's agenda.

He lifts up the teacup she'd been drinking from, sniffing it before taking a small sip, but as expected there's nothing but the sweet taste of hibiscus. Fortunately for Hiyori he doesn't have the physical capacity to throw up blood any longer, and so he sets it back down before turning his full attention to the woman that can and more importantly is.

He bends down on one knee next to her, reaching a hand out before thinking better of it. ]

No... No, don't try to stand back up, or you're liable to collapse.

Power | Chainsawman

[poweredbystupid]

Train Station

[Power had arrived to the station in a kind of a stupor. She shouldn't be here. But where should she be? Did she even know? She wandered for a bit before sitting on a bench to catch her head. Despite her usual attitude, for once in her short life she was quiet. How long that would last who could really say...]


Restaurants

[This was more like it! Power had been voracious since arriving in the City. This had led her to rummaging through what had at one time been a kitchen for anything she shove down her throat to make the rumbling of her stomach subside.

Setting up what she had found at an abandoned table, she seemed to be mimicking some kind of fine dining set-up all by herself. With wine, bread, and anything else she managed to loot spread across the table in a kind of parody of what it was supposed to look like.]


Tea

[Pinkie's out. Fresh after filling herself with like way to much food and drink, why not be fancy for a bit? Having found the little tea party in her wanderings, Power would pass up a opportunity to show she was a woman of class and worth. A second after said liquid hit the back of her throat however, she almost instantly began to regret her decisions.

[Feel free to decide what horrible fate befalls her.] ]

OPEN

[Feel free to meet up with Power wherever in the city.]

tea

[killed]

[ dealer's choice but i rolled and it said blue for power if you want to mess with that

Hiyori has taken to spending time in the poison garden, if only in an effort to keep people from poisoning themselves... But in this case he's just a bit too late on suggesting that the person present not swallow down poison, and thus has to settle for watching to see what effect it will have.

His eyes flick down to see the color of tea, then back to her with a frown. ]

... I'm afraid that you're drinking poison, miss.

[ Not that the warning will do her much good... If anything, it might make her panic more, but what else is there to do but warn her of the upcoming side effects and help her find a cure? Red causes haematemesis, green leads to mutations, and this...? ]

karlach cliffgate / baldur's gate 3

[heartburner]

arrival

( well. it’s probably not the strangest place she’s ever found herself before, but that doesn’t mean karlach’s happy to be here. she’s been stripped of her weapons, stripped of her friends, and she doesn’t know where to go next.

so she just goes. anywhere. searching for a clue as to why she’s here, or when she got here, or where her shit is. anything, really.

she cuts a striking image — six-foot-something, muscular, deep red skin that licks with flame the more stressed and angry she gets. her clothing seems almost melted off in places, because it is, revealing a map of burn scars on her flesh.

still, as intimidating as she may seem, she doesn’t approach the first person she sees with hostility. she wants to give them the benefit of a doubt. we’re all in this together, or whatever. )

You and me, then? ( she calls out to the stranger, who seems just as lost and confused as she is. it’s hard to decide whether that’s a good sign or a bad one. ) You haven’t seen any weapons lying around, have you? My hands are itching without something to hold. I don’t like this.



a drop of blood or a drop of ego

( by some stroke of luck, karlach skips the tea in the poison garden that day and makes her way right to the greenhouse instead. there’s something about the promise of seeing pretty plants that has her so very excited she can barely contain herself. she hasn’t seen a lot of plants in the last ten years. at this point even blades of grass are bloody exciting.

so she might go left, and find herself surrounded by plants that seem hungrier for a little more than sunlight and water. )

Hey, I’d watch it. I’m pretty sure that little fucker there is giving you the eye. Or he would be, if he had eyes. ( she nods towards a particularly hungry-looking plant that seems eager to chomp the moment it gets a chance. ) I dunno about you, but I’m thinking we should head back towards the door. Very slowly.

( or she might go right, where the plants seem keen to whisper about every doubt, every fear, every bad thing she’s ever felt about herself. they whisper names she doesn’t want to think about. they giggle about things they shouldn’t even know.

karlach doesn’t care if she’s alone or not, and she doesn’t care how it looks for a very large tiefling woman to be towering over a bunch of plants like they’re naughty children. she gets right in the little bastards’ … faces? whatever. she’s down there, teeth gritted into a snarl and she looks over the line of tittering plants who don’t seem at all bothered by her presence. )

Oi! Listen up, you. See this? ( she holds up a clenched fist, flames dancing off her skin as if she herself is on fire. because, well, she practically is. ) One more word and I will use it. I promise. You’ll go up faster than a scarecrow in a wheat field in the middle of a bloody fucking drought. Got it?

( the plants do not, in fact, seem as if they’ve got it. )



a trip to the diner

( as karlach wanders, she eventually comes upon a place that she doesn’t immediately clock as a restaurant, but curiosity drags her inside anyway with a jingle jangle of the bell that hangs above the door. it’s a retro-style diner — not that she has any sort of frame of reference for that — and she recognizes the rows of tables and seating, the long counter lined with stools, the service window. it’s an eatery.)

Oh, thank the gods, ( she says. to who? the walls, she supposes, because there’s certainly no one else around. ) I’m fucking starved.

( she stands patiently at the counter for all of thirty seconds before she calls out, but as with everything she’s seen in this place so far, things aren’t exactly normal here. no weary shopkeep emerges to greet her. there’s … still no one, actually.

odd, yeah, but at this point it’s expected.

she cranes her neck, trying to get a view into the kitchen through the service window, and what she glimpses back there might’ve made her heart stop if she still had one. the stove looks like it’s piled with food, and —

oh wait yeah she’s just going. fuck waiting for service.

karlach hops the counter easily enough and ducks into the kitchen, where she sees the stove’s piled high with exactly what she’s been dreaming of since … well, shit. probably for the last fucking decade. there are roasted meats and vegetables, leagues better than what anyone could ever prepare on the road, and flaky loaves of fresh bread with cheeses, a cake decorated with fresh fruits and berries. there are even mugs of ale, ripe for the taking.

and take she does. she starts grabbing platters and carrying them out to the front, lining them carefully on the counter before she ducks back into the kitchen to grab some more. at some point the jingle of the door alerts her to company, and she calls out from the back: )

Hope you’re hungry! There’s plenty, mate.



text; un: karlach

Hello?

Hello>

Is this like a sending stone?

Didn’t know they worked t his way.



wildcard

( something something i'm up for pretty much anything. i'll also match prose if you prefer. ALSO please let me know how comfortable you are with bg3 spoilers. i'm taking her from act 1 so she won't have a lot to spoil but i can be as vague as you want me to be. )

arrival bc... i Had to. spoilers are 👌

[fauned]

( it's not that she's never met a tiefling before, but this one cuts quite the striking figure! the broken off horn, the strange flame that licks at scarred skin - it all speaks to a woman who's been through hell in more ways than the purely metaphorical. while she's never been to the hells herself, a recent brush with a devil that left her with a branded knuckle makes fairly hard not to subconsciously seek out connections.

so when she speaks, the faun perks, and her expression melts into an easy smile as she holds her hand out. )

Not unless you want to improvise some. That's what most people have been doing, I think. But if you just want to hold something, I've got hands!

silver wolf ✦ honkai: star rail

[ex_nintendog588]

 — network.

USERNAME: SILVER WOLF

who put me in an indie horror
the assets arent even loading properly

---

 — i.
LOCATION: STARTING AREAS

( well, this sucks.

not only is she stranded, her connection to literally everyone else that isn't in this crazy little half-loaded city has been.. severed? which isn't ideal, but also nothing's outright tried to eat her face yet so it's probably fine.

encountering her isn't hard even if she's likely to just keep walking, there's a lot to the level to explore after all. some of the places where she'd likely stop to play with what's around would be the university, at a computer, playing minesweeper or solitaire and getting oddly possessive over this silly piece of old tech like she doesn't want to share it. which isn't very nice.

alternatively, she's gutted the thing to see what it's running on so maybe she can use the parts for something else.. only to be met with a whole lot of nothing! so she'll be sitting there for a little bit, downright confused with tools and bits of the case scattered all around her on the floor. don't trip over her. she's thinking.

the laundromat is another one, because she read somewhere that people have lost their stuff in it, so she's playing gacha with the machines. is she likely to ask for your hat or your glove or your jacket or something to have another go at a washer and dryer? yes. so hand it over.

... or maybe, she's just having a grand time making the worst thing you've ever laid your eyes on in the ice cream parlor. the flavors are nonsensical and layered in mysterious ways, the toppings are also equally unfitting and it looks like she was at a convenience store at some point considering there's chips and furikake and? fries? sprinkled on it. she knows what she's doing. clearly. no one could possibly make something so grotesque so confidently otherwise. )

---

 — ii.
LOCATION: THE GREENHOUSE, LEFT PATH

( speaking of getting her face eaten. anyway nature is evil, like actually. 'touch grass', they said, 'you need to go outside more', they said. well this grass seems keen to snap at her ankle or bits off of her ponytail and quite frankly she's very attached to them, thanks. she's lost sight of the exit at some point, likely the work of the hungry plants conveniently shrouding the paths, but eventually she'll turn on her heel to point an accusing finger at the flora. there's so many, but fuck this one in particular. )

I've had about enough of you. There isn't even anything fun to loot around here. You make a terrible dungeon and you should be ashamed of yourself.

( yeah, in lieu of aether editing, scolding them ought to work. someone get this tiny dog of a girl before she gets eaten. )

---

 — notes.

( wildcards are fun but why would you want to burden yourself with thinking of one and ALSO putting yourself through the trials that is interacting with a #gamergirl. )

Network; username: rabbit_ebrooks

[reaperrabbit]

nerd

argalia ♪ library of ruina

[entwinedfate]

a. from one cage to another

[ What a quaint place it is, stepping off the train. It would almost be too quiet if not for the aid still pressed familiarly against his ear, a perfect and lovely reminder of his loss. He takes a quick stock of his personal effects before he spots someone non-threatening and smiles softly, voice lilting with curiosity. ]

You wouldn't happen to be able to answer a few questions, would you? I'd be grateful for your help.

[ A picturesque gentleman, this one, down to his stylish blue suit. ]

b. party with a view

[ It is a lovely little tea party that's been set up, here.

But you don't get to be his age or Grade without knowing better than to take a sip from a cup you didn't bring yourself, and so Argalia is more than content to sit at the table with a cup of blue tea waiting to be tasted. Pea flower, he's already discerned on scent and color alone, and he muses out loud to himself: ]

I should have thought to bring a lemon to squeeze -- this tea in particular has a secret to its color.

[ Feel free to join him, truly -- he isn't going to be tasting anything first, and not every tea has something wrong with it, but he'd rather someone else die than himself. ]

c. left or right?

[ Now, here comes a fun game.

Argalia can be found on both paths, unafraid and unbothered by the plants down either way, so pick your poison: ]

i. left
Aren't you charming? Maybe I'll bring a few of you back with me.

[ A little green around the residence he chose couldn't hurt while he bided his time. Argalia looks like he's very well tamed the carnivorous plants with how he's carefully and soothingly petting one, but in truth he's already paid the price -- and gladly so. Everything needs blood to live. That's only natural.

Noticing another, though, he eases his hand against closed maw of one of the larger traps and smiles. ]

Don't be afraid. They're no different than you and I, feeding off others to survive. You could even say we're family.

[ In a way. Maybe more literal for others, but philosophically speaking... ]

ii. right
[ These flowers are a little more annoying, but only by virtue that he can hear their whispering tones far sooner than others might. It's a comfort in some ways at the same time, but he'd rather not hear them badmouthing his darling late-sister or claiming his selfishness in doing what he intends.

He is, however, keenly interested in the secrets of others over his own, and so he'll follow the differing words when they start up until he finds the source -- that is, you. ]

d. anything else?

[ If there's something else you'd like to do, just go for it! I'm mostly voicetesting him right now, and for who it matters to he's pulled after his third battle and before his final return. ]

c.i) blanket ruina spoilers hello..............

[gradenine]

[ if roland were to choose between the two ominous paths in this creepy garden, he'd obviously choose the one with the carnivorous plans chomping away at air, the ivy thick enough to blot out the light from outside the greenhouse. besides, with all his investigations coming up in smoke in most cases, he's not expecting too much from this place either.

oh, how he'd love to be wrong in this instance for once.

there's no mistaking the blue cloak, the pristine white hair that he shared with his sister, that leering voice. roland's brain is overloaded from information he'd gotten from angela last month that he hadn't considered this one oversight at all -- the fact that at some point, he would arrive. ]

Family, huh.

[ he clenches his gloved fists, his voice eerily calm. ]

Doubt you even grasp the mere concept of it.

[ hey, brother in law. ]

Brook | I'm the Grim Reaper

[reaperrabbit]

[Brook steps onto the subway platform barefoot, squinting, and double-wielding smartphones. The one in his right hand is the City-assigned device, recently cleared of its orientation survey and naturally deserving of all the suspicious looks he's shooting it. The phone in his left, however, is protected with a pink, bunny-themed case that matches the whole white rabbit thing he has going on. The frowns he frowns at that one are of a perhaps more worried nature.]

No signal...

[In the end, he pockets the pink one and gives his surroundings a slower, more attentive look around. He'd checked for immediate threats or landmarks, of course, but now he takes in the cleanliness of the place. Its utter, lifeless, well-kempt emptiness.]

Hm. Creepy.

[Brook continues to give the vacant platform a good, long stare, until it's patently clear that nothing is going to happen. Then he scowls over his shoulder at the subway train that still hasn't left. Finally, he heaves a huge, put-upon sigh.]

Fine.

[Up the stairs he goes.]

a. Not All Who Wander Are Lost... But This Guy Sure Is

[He wanders, a pale slip of a thing in no apparent hurry, first through the City Hall station, whose empty storefronts he ignores, and then out into the eastern part of District 1. He chooses not to enter the buildings here, either, even wrinkling his nose in baffled disinterest at some of the enticing aromas wafting from the restaurants. Brook explores none of it, as if, however inviting the City attempts to make itself, he's absolutely positive he's not on the guest list. He just keeps going. And going. And going...

...Right over the borderline between accessible territory and yet-unlocked City. It sets him right back the way he came, of course, but Brook doesn't even seem to notice. He keeps walking, minding his surroundings but clearly not paying enough attention to discern that he's going in circles, because he does it again. And again. And again. For hours, he just keeps walking. This city devoid of people, its lack of gang graffiti and drug deals and piss and blood in the streets, unnerves him, though he hates to admit it. His legs are starting to feel weird, too, but he can't place the sensation. He just keeps walking.

Eventually--and it's well into the twilight hours, ages since he arrived--he stops in the middle of the street and complains:]

It all looks the same.

b. All Hail Lightstalker, Banisher of the Void

text; un: rabbit_ebrooks

have you seen this weird dog?

[Embedded beneath that line of text is a smartphone photo of--a smartphone, held in a pink-gloved hand. The second phone displays a photo of a hairless, wall-eyed cat in a sweater.]

now you have. =:3




this is probly too much to ask, but where can i get a phone charger that fucking works in this place?

c. Get Ojigi with It

[Not entering buildings is getting Brook nowhere, so he finally enters the greenhouse. Since it seems profoundly abandoned, he won't run into anyone else inside, he figures. He takes the left side path to explore.

A short way in, he pauses. Blood isn't an unfamiliar sight--or smell. In fact, he might not have registered the old, brown stains at all, except that he's barefoot. Brook wrinkles his nose as he lifts one foot to inspect the sole.]

What...?

[A plant behind him stirs, opening its "mouth" slowly like a hunter tasting the air. When it lunges, Brook looks more startled than anything as its teeth close around his arm.]

What?!

[He jerks away, tearing the head with its champing maw loose, and stares at his arm as the decapitated flytrap falls away. He's bleeding. It broke skin. What? How?

More rustling. Brook snaps his head up, then bounds away, black bands of energy coiling around his feet and ankles like sports wraps. Even this isn't right, though. He shoots his legs a look like they're failing him, though he's definitely faster than the plants. Even when he vaults noisily over a shelf of pots, knocking several over, he blurts out--]

Why isn't it working?!

d. Choose Your Own Adventure

[Wildcard me! Brook will be wandering all over, not recognizing that he can get hungry and tired now, so he could ostensibly turn up just about anywhere in the unlocked portions of the City. You can reach me at asherdashery or on Discord at asherdashery. I'm still working on permissions/info/icons/keywords for Brook, so please pardon ongoing construction.]

c.

[scowlish]

[The greenhouse sets Onni's senses on edge, something about it has an oppressive feeling of being trapped, of being watched by an invisible presence. Not an unfamiliar feeling, but certainly an unwelcome one after being somewhat free of it for a few hours, as strange as that had been in and of itself. Part of him thinks he should turn back and take the same path he's traveled to get here to go back and get out of this place, but part of him is also too stubborn, having decided on this path and gone as far as he has. A few steps forward, though, and that feeling intensifies, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge, and he shakes his head. No. Definitely going back now.

Or at least, he's about to, when he spots a pale, skinny form just around a bend in the path up ahead, moving slowly at first and then in a burst of energy as if something's happened.]

Lalli?!

[Called out, almost without thinking, and he bursts into a run around that bend in the path, just in time to see the boy there shake off the biting head of one of the plants and burst off to the side, knocking over a rack of pots and asking why something isn't working. He goes still for a moment. Pale, skinny, with longish hair, just like Lalli, but it's not Lalli. That voice has too much inflection in it, isn't right.

Still, he takes a step forward, lifting a hand.]

What isn't working?

[Does his voice sound a little grumpy from discovering that it's not his little cousin he's just spotted in the greenhouse? Maybe. But he's not being abrasive on purpose.]

kell | shades of magic

[priste]

to the southwest

[ The park feels more familiar than anything else this city has had to offer so far, so that's where Kell ultimately finds himself. The technology had been new, almost overwhelming, the City Hall had been useless, and the tourist center felt like a glorified map.

But the city park is oddly nice, enough to remind him of London (which one? take your pick), with the air even smelling just a bit like rain.

Kell takes a deep breath and then looks across the grass and the trees, his eyes (one regular blue, one solid black) watching the way the leaves slowly dance in the wind. And then he tries to focus, reaching his hand out like he might grasp something. The leaves seem to rustle just a little bit more than they had the moment prior, but there's no big display of magic, no gale or tempest. He closes his hand and the leaves return to their typical swaying as if nothing at all had happened, and as far as Kell was concerned, that might as well be the case. ]

This isn't right.

the poison's in the details.

[ Honestly, he ought to know better than to join a tea party so suspiciously set. But he can't get over the desire to do so, and he finds himself seated at the table, the very picture of a good guest.

The only saving grace for him (for the moment) is that he's yet to pick his poison. He opens a couple of pots and checks inside of them, trying to decide which one seems best. If he's caught checking them out, he'll say ]

Oh, I was just looking. Please, don't let me interrupt you.

[ Perhaps the red, or perhaps... ]

a drop of blood or a drop of ego

[ Why he's still exploring after all of that is anyone's guess, but Kell next finds himself in the Greenhouse. He heads towards the right, where all the large flowers are. Just when he's thinking about how they're actually quite beautiful, the whispering starts:

...he's just their pet, poor thing...all that magic and for what?...

It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There's no doubt that they're talking about him. ]

That's quite enough. You shouldn't gossip where others can hear you.

[ But while that might have worked back in his London, the plants have a mind of their own, and the whispers grow louder, turning into real voices as the flowers turn to speak judgmentally towards one another.

Well, and to kill your own kind? When you're the only ones left? How vicious! How terrible! ]

I said, that's enough.

[ Kell's magic doesn't spring to his fingertips the way it should. He manages only a pittance of a flame, not nearly enough to scare a small plant, much less these gossiping monstrosities. ]

wildcard.

[ feel free to run into Kell wherever! Kell is from the end of a darker shade of magic and I haven't read the new book yet so this is a spoiler free zone except for the first book. ]

a drop of blood (spoilers for asom/cw a bit of suicidal ideation)

[voxt]

[ Holland is in a rough way. He's better off than he should be, after Kell left him for dead, but with his magic so limited, he's barely got the energy to stand. Not that he'll let it show. His clothes, once white and pristine, are tattered and nearly brown with dried blood.

Truthfully he doesn't know what to do now. He'd expected to die. He'd wanted it, to free him from that damned seal that made him into Athos' puppet. Yet now here he is. Some strange city in some strange place. Disconnected from everything, and everyone -- except perhaps the spoiled prince of Red London.

Holland hangs back and watches Kell suffer, feeling a mix of derision and amusement as the other Antari makes his feeble attempt at fighting back. Well, it's good to know they're at least both limited. And Holland has always been stronger, there is at least that.

He steps closer, making himself known. His calm face hides nearly all emotion. Nearly. His eyes burn hot with anger, just barely concealed. ]

You should pay attention. You might learn something from what they have to say.

onni hotakainen ❄ stand still stay silent

[scowlish]

i. Graveyard

[This place isn't exactly unfamiliar. Onni is used to abandoned cities, though they're usually grown over, toppled over, gone through by animals and trolls and beasts. That is to say, they're a mess, and this place is clean by comparison. It sets him a little on edge, a city like this, bright and new and clean and completely empty, and he keeps his breath mask firmly on in case it's something like the Rash that's caused the people who obviously used to live here to flee or die or disappear. The fact that the train is still working and the lights are still on makes it obvious that whatever's happened here has happened recently, and it can't have been good.

Onni doesn't ever really expect anything good.

The park feels a little more like home, and the overgrown cemetery even moreso, with its toppling graves and worn down stone. Still, cemeteries have always set him a little on edge, especially after recent events, and this isn't somewhere he wants to be either. He's making his way out when he spots it, in the middle of a little copse of trees, a small stone lying on the ground, just like the one he'd dropped off at the family graveyard - Tuuri Hotakainen 69-91.

For a moment, he's still, and then he drops to his knees in front of it, staring at it, his eyes filling with tears for a moment. What is this doing here?! He'd dropped it off already, at home, with the gravestones of everyone else he'd known and loved, besides Lalli, where it belonged.]

Why is this here?!

[He asks it out loud, not necessarily addressed to anyone, still on his knees and pointing at the stone, looking for all the world like he's somehow both offended and on the verge of tears.]

ii. Convenience Store

[It had taken him a while to get over seeing Tuuri's headstone at the cemetery, some time alone, secluded in another part of the park, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest and his head against them, just mourning to himself, away from anyone else, no one to witness it. Just the way he likes it. Needs it.

Eventually, though, he'd been roused by hunger and decided to try to hunt. Completely fruitless, because there are no wild animals, it seems, and not even any tracks from their recent passage. He can't even find small songbirds, and so eventually he decides he'll have to forage in the city. He doesn't even think to go into one of the restaurants, because there are no people and so that means there'll be no food there, doesn't it? Besides, whatever's open could be contaminated, could be the source of whatever killed these people. Best to look for sealed things, though still not ideal.

Rooting around in the convenience store, he has no real concern over payment or anything of the sort, though he has a few krona in his pockets. You don't exactly have to pay in the Silent World, and for all that there are no beasts or trolls, this is effectively the Silent World, abandoned and empty of people. Picking up a bag of some kind of snack, he turns it over and over in his hands, looking for an expiration date, trying to suss out whether the item is expired or not. He has no idea what's in it, other than that it's something made of potatoes, which sounds relatively nourishing.]

Best consumed within one year.

[He says it in a sort of neutral tone, with just a hint of disapproval. Maybe not so nourishing, if it lasts that long. And then someone else enters the store and he startles, the bag dropping from his hand, his other reaching instinctively for his no-longer-present spear. Hissing through his teeth, he straightens and snatches up the snack he'd been looking at, eyes on the 'intruder.']

Who are you?

iii. The Poison's In the Details

[It seems there are two parks here, and for that Onni is grateful. He doesn't really want to sleep in the same park that had the cemetery with his sister's headstone in it, and he needs somewhere to sleep, a place to make camp. It doesn't occur to him to go into one of the buildings and simply sleep in an apartment or house intended for someone who's vanished, left without a trace other than the accoutrements of their daily life left behind. It's...creepy, and seems in poor taste.

It's as he's making his way through this second park that he runs into the flower garden, looking for all the world like the gardener has just left, well-tended and beautiful. Even he has to admit it's beautiful - nature has always invoked that response from him. As he wanders through it, certain that this is no place to make camp, but wanting to see more of it, he runs into a table set out with what looks like a tea party set up on it.

Approaching cautiously, he looks over the table with its pots of tea and cups splayed everywhere, the doilies and napkins tucked here and there as if someone had simply gotten up and left this thing here. The moment he touches one of the pots of tea and realizes that it's still warm, he feels the compulsion to drink it, strong and intense. It's been a long time since he had tea, and these ones smell good, even from a distance.

But Onni has spent his entire life fighting against the enticements of the spirit world, and this has the markings of that all over it. So he resists, though he stands staring at the pots for much longer than he intends to before glancing up and noticing someone else pouring themselves a cup of tea, looking entranced.]

That's a bad idea.

[He snaps it out without thinking, stepping toward the other person as if he could bar them from trying the tea.]

iv. Network

Username: onni

[The video function switches on, showing a very unflattering view of the underside of his chin and up his nostrils, then turns off. A moment later, text shows up on the screen.]

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz, . 1234 !@#$

what is this?

hello

v. Wildcard

Want to tag me but none of these work for you? No problem! Just shoot me a starter of your own. Alternately, send me a PM or hit me up on discord at "onlilypads" to plot out a scene and I'll write you a custom starter!

ii, ONNI......... MY MAN!!!!!!

[icanfixer]

[ someone who doesn't exactly look like a threat, the short young woman pausing at the door before stepping in so it doesn't close on her with a hearty call: ]

I am Don Quixote, valiant Fixer employed by the heroic Limbus Company! And also, part-time employee at the most wondrous Bookstore that has recently made itself home here. Prithee, ser, be at ease, for I am only here to restock on the delectable gummy worms.

[ which happen to be past him, though don doesn't seem too concerned as she goes to move beyond him with a happy hum. ]

They have fast become a staple in my life, and a week without them is a dire week indeed! Are thee fond of sweets, ser?

lilias perlutia / epic seven

[repressive]

🜲 GRAVEYARD.

[ while the general outline of the city park is nothing in comparison to the perlutia family home, lilias still manages to find solace in the immediate greenery. despite the dreary vibe, it still manages to assuage some of her nerves, and offers her an odd sense of peace she felt only within the confines of that space. naturally, this is not home, however, and so while it’s a nice reprieve from the city itself, it doesn’t mean she’s entirely dropped her guard.

the graveyard looked aged and unkempt. odd considering how eerily well-managed everywhere else appeared to be. for a second, she feels like she saw a familiar name. dittman— no, there’s no way. she opens her mouth, only to close it.

maybe from hearing a noise, she asks without turning back: ] Do you believe in fate? [ this definitely sounds like a pick-up line out of context, but she sounds a bit too serious for it to land that way. ]

🜲 POISON'S IN THE DETAILS.

[ becoming city lord meant there was no limit to how many dangers followed her. not just from opposing nations, but even inwards of her country's own borders. hence, it only makes sense that one such an individual would be perpetually on-guard. that said, something about this little tea set up drew her closer. naturally, it’s not nearly as lavish as she was accustomed to, it was lackluster and simple at best, but who could deny a nice cup of tea?

was it not about the quality of the tea leaves over mere presentation? or so she believes and so she finds herself neatly poised at a seat at the table. she boldly sits at the head of it, as if this entire set-up had been made specifically for her.

she places her chin neatly on her hands and she leans forward. ] Care to join me for a cup of tea? It would be quite wasteful, perhaps even over-indulgent, to have it all for myself.

🜲 A DROP OF EGO.

[ there were so many fascinating plants in this greenhouse, that lilias can't deny her genuine curiosity. while some of the creatures that existed in the perland plains could have readily been considered dangerous, they were still fairly different from the plant-like creatures here. but, as much as she may marvel about them, she can't deny being shocked to actually hear them as well.

as far as she knew, those who could speak to plants or spirits of the planet were far and few between. she knows she does not harbor such skills and can only presume in that case... that it's these plants who were capable of speech all on their own. in whispers, she hears: Isn't that Lilias? She's a liar. She promised to gift her childhood friend with beautiful women, hadn't she? But, where are they? Oh, and don't even get me started on how she's a warmonger. An absolute tyrant! oh. that isn't what she expected at all.

she peers at the plants momentarily, before turning her head to the stranger beside her. ] I assure you it isn't nearly as nefarious as they make it seem. [ defense coming in 3, 2, 1... ]

🜲 NETWORK — UN: PERLUTIA

A general inquiry, if I may. Is it typical to lose your personal effects once you arrive here? Is there any method in order to re-obtain them?

Warmest regards,
Lilias Perlutia

🜲 WILDCARD.

[ hi, feel free to hit me with whatever if you want, or you can leave a comment and i can give you a wildcard instead! for the tea, i am cool with any tea— if you want to plan, feel free to dm me, or we can wing it! ♥ ]

ego, because ilu too much

[pluvious]

[ neuvillette, too, would like to think that he possesses no power to speak to or influence the greenery around him, even with his identity as a dragon sovereign; of course, whether or not the dragon sovereign of dendro or his predecessor did, however, remains to be seen. and yet, here he is, listening to voices that remind him of voices in the fountain of lucine, the words they speak full of barbs and insults meant to cut and hurt.

his expression stays impassive as he listens to the flowers as they hurl accusations toward the lady next to him, his gaze simply flickering from blossom to blossom. they do say that the most potent of poisons are often hidden under the loveliest of camouflages.

she promised to gift her childhood friend with beautiful women.

is this the female version of yoshida??? ]

It is not my place to judge another person outside of the court of justice, so you need not explain yourself. If anything, I would like to offer my apologies if these are things I'm not meant to hear.

[ it's not as if he has a choice, but still, the point stands. ]

Astarion Ancunín | Baldur's Gate 3

[vampires_pawn]

i. arrival

[ Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any stranger…

First, there had been the nautiloid. Then, his plunge from the sky, which had inexplicably not ended with his viscera splattered liberally across a nameless beach.

And now there’s… this. Whatever this is. Astarion had made it out of the sealed metal chamber quickly enough once he figured out how to use the device buzzing away in his hand, but this new space offers no more answers than the last. The sprawling underground vault of steel and smooth-carved, too-uniform tile seems to stretch out in all directions, just as alien as the mindflayer ship—though fortunately less fleshy. Unnatural white light glares down from the ceiling and every few meters there are glowing signs, marked with unfamiliar symbols and arrows pointing in different directions.

Astarion, his supply of shock and awe having already been exhausted for the day, manages a put-upon sigh. ]

I don’t suppose any of these point towards Baldur’s Gate?

[ Between his embroidered doublet, pointed ears, and red eyes, Astarion looks utterly out of place as he stands there in the middle of the station. Still, he does make some attempt not to look completely lost.

One word he recognizes on the signs? Exit. Without another word, he begins to move in the indicated direction. With any luck, he can at least make it out of this bewildering subterranean vault—and, he thinks with relish, back into the sunlight once more. ]

ii. don’tcha know that you’re toxic

[ Astarion knows something is off about the tea the second he approaches the table—mostly because he finds himself actually wanting to drink it. For a man of his particular appetites, that’s a strange feeling indeed. He eyes the cups warily, wondering if a charm might be at play.

There’s also the matter of finding this little tableaux in the middle of a poison garden. Naturally, Astarion had recognized several of the deadlier varieties of flora on his way in.

When he sees someone else come upon the spot, however, he keeps this information to himself. Instead, he gestures to the table in front of them. ]

Quite the charming little scene we’ve stumbled across, isn’t it? [ he remarks, favoring them with an easy smile. ] Though tea isn’t really my drink.

[ Maybe it’s this person’s, though. If they want to indulge and give him a firsthand demonstration of this “tea’s” potency? Astarion certainly isn’t going to stop them. ]

iii. a drop of blood

[ Astarion has a fairly good idea of what to expect when he takes the leftward path through the greenhouse. The smell of blood is thick around these plants and he hasn’t missed that they seem rather sharper and more excitable than your typical garden residents. Still, he’d been hoping that his own cold dead blood wouldn’t appeal to their carnivorous sensibilities. It would be a useful little place to have to himself: a garden full of twisting, thorny vines hostile to everyone except him—but alas, it’s not to be. It isn’t long before he has to swat away a tooth-lined tendril or two, apparently unbothered by their would-be prey’s undead nature. ]

Really, [ Astarion hisses, glancing between the plant and a fresh cut on his forearm. ] Would a little bit of solidarity be too much to ask?

[ After all, it seems rather gauche for blood drinkers to feed on each other, doesn’t it? ]

iv. a drop of ego

[ After his disappointment with the greenhouse’s leftward path, Astarion tries his luck with the right. The words “BEAUTIFUL DEADLIES” on the sign gives him hope that the flowers on display might lend themselves well to poison-brewing. Still, if these are poisonous varieties, they’re certainly bigger than anything he’s ever seen in Faerûn.

And then come the whispers. At first, Astarion thinks they must be coming from someone on the path with him, but no sooner than he’s turned to face them in one direction does he hear fresh murmurs from another.

”Blood drinker,” they whisper. ”Child-snatcher. His master is looking for him, isn’t he? Poor thing. Poor slave. Poor spawn.”

Astarion feels his cold blood run colder. Where is it coming from? And more importantly—

His eyes snap to whoever else might be on the trail with him, too rattled to completely conceal the intensity in his gaze. Can they hear it, too? ]

Arrival :)

[bardstorming]

[Dorian finds himself wandering to the station almost every other day. He's not sure when (or if) new people will show up, and if they do- he wants to know if others will arrive.

He looks a tad bit absentminded as he stares at the stairs and the bottom of them, watching people climb up, but not seeing anyone familiar. He even almost misses the question asked, but catches the end of it.]

Baldur's Gate? ...I'm sorry, I've never heard of such a place. And it certainly isn't here.

genya shinazugawa | kny

[demawn]

cw: blood, death, trauma, volatile emotions. kny spoilers.

---

[ Plip. Plip. Plip.

Consciousness rolls in a hazy cloud. Metallic tang saturates his mouth, tongue stiff against the back of still-sharpened teeth. Plip, plip—drip cuts through the fog. When the young slayer’s eyes crack open, pin-point pupils needle in on dull brown dabbled with fresh dots of filmy red.

He blankly stares at his filthy hands. Blood stains into the grooves of his fingerprints, the fortune lines along his palms, a damning memento of what just happened.

But why is he whole? He had been cleaved in half, only clinging to life at the end due to ingesting that demon’s genetic material and copying his—Genya’s hand snaps up to scrub over his mouth. Chapped lips, a ridge of teeth that don’t normally belong to him … but after checking over the rest of his body, that’s the only remainder of Kokushibo’s abilities. Not cleaved, not on the precipice of dying, even if he’s still haggard from the battle and stained in its aftermath.

He must be dead. Is this death? The afterlife? Why is he like this, where is his family? Why is there still so much feeling?

Emotion belt-snaps through his system. Hot tears gush down his messy face as he staggers off the train like a dead man walking, shuddering with shallow breaths. Panic attack? Can the dead even have a panic attack? Maybe so—tears dribble down his jawline and throat as he grips onto the wall for support, palm smearing brown across subway tile. It’s cold. ]

i. reaching out in the dark

[ Mind caught in vivid memories and gnarled emotion, he walks without knowing where he’s going. Droplets trail behind him, hulking figure a frightening sight stained with crusting blood from head to toe. Vision blurred by tears that keep coming, he can’t stop them, Genya reaches out to grab at the first silhouette he can make out. ]

Where, wh… where? [ he grinds his teeth, choking through the words while clutching at the stranger like they’re his last lifeline, ] Dead? Are we dead? Is he here too?

[ Whoever he is, the young man does not elaborate. Unable to elaborate. The only relief he feels is that he did his job, he protected his brother, he managed to say what he wanted to say for so long so there are no regrets—but he hadn’t expected to come-to like this.

Another rush of tears come with that thought. Whoever you are, sorry for this huge guy bleeding and crying all over you. He’s having a day. ]

ii. walking along a shadowed path

[ Time has passed since he first slogged off the train in a panicked haze. With air filling his lungs over and over, the heart beneath his ribs continuing to pump, and the throb of pain from all the superficial cuts that remain… if this is death, it’s nothing like he had expected. It feels too lifelike.

Genya’s managed to find the pharmaceutical aisles in one of the convenience stores. Crouching in the aisle, he peels open a few boxes of ace bandages and gauze. There are medications but he doesn’t recognize any; a few painkillers have been out to the side for further bottle-reading.

The wipes he found in the aisle have done a piss-poor job in cleaning him up, but at least his face is recognizable from a bloody ghoul. Grunting, the youth grinds his teeth again and then drops the gauze he’s been trying to circle around his bicep. He can’t hold the tail of the bandage in his mouth with fangs like this—and it might take a little longer for them to get back to normal. So, he brazenly yanks the tooth out of his mouth and throws it behind him.

Were you standing there? Congratulations. You just got hit by a random bloody tooth.

Or were you watching? He’ll finally notice a gaze, looking up through squinted red eyes, a haphazard figure trying to patch himself up. He’s wary of someone having noticed him yank out the tooth, which is why he doesn’t address it—he’ll just glance aside, hesitant, before gruffly asking, ]

… Can you help me. I can’t do it myself.

[ The bandages. They’re sloppy and not tight enough over his cuts. His body is still numb, fingertips not responding the tight way, making this exceptionally difficult. ]

iii. head toward the horizon’s breaking light

[ Not heaven, not hell, but something different altogether. Genya is wary when he begins exploring the topography of the city and even more so as he finds signs of life and none of the life. Restaurants where meals are mid-cook, offices where materials are left out … and apartment buildings where people should live.

Is this the work of the demons…? But it doesn’t seem like it?

Unsure, Genya begins to open doors to random apartments. Most are empty, as if the residents had just up and vanished. Not an unusual sight for a demon slayer to find. Worry builds in his chest; did some demon come snatch the people away?

Which why his opening of doors becomes more aggressive as he does reconnaissance. He may have no weapons and may not be strong like Tanjirou or Sanemi but he can’t in good conscience ignore this. It’s just too familiar. Too indicative of danger.

Which is why there’s a tall young man opening your chosen apartment’s door without warning. He’s surprised at finding another person, and then flushes, realizing how wildly rude it is to just burst in. Which is why he says shit under his breath and then, ]

Sorry—sorry.

[ He then closes the door, waits a beat while he wipes the cold, embarrassed sweat off his face, and then knocks very politely.

Alternatively, if your apartment door is locked there will be a suspicious thud outside the door before he jiggles the door handle, ]

Anyone in there? You alright?

iv. a drop of blood

[ This greenhouse has seen better days.

Despite that, Genya still heads inside, half still scouting the city and half seeing some peace to collect his thoughts. The last few days have been a whirlwind of emotion and experience, and so much of it has yet to settle.

At first the walk is calming, but soon the fine hairs along his nape prickle. Glancing up, he needles in on few sneaky vines trying to curl around his ankles—and not just his. ]

Watch out. [ whoever you are, this youth who does not look particularly friendly is putting himself between you and the reaching vines of the plants, ] These aren’t normal.

[ No, not normal, but eager. The vines continue to curl outward, looking for a gap to slide in and wrap around one of their limbs. ]

v. a drop of ego

[ The plants are certainly beautiful—but beautiful things can be cruel. What was supposed to be a leisurely walk to gather his thoughts and situation has quickly turned sour.

Bright pops of color blend together. The slayer stands on the pathway, glaring daggers into the throng of flora, but despite the defiant look his face is pale. The whispers bother him.

You’re weak, you’re weak, you’re weak. You can’t protect anyone. All your loved ones will probably die, and what can you do about it? How are you going to get stronger?

Genya’s brow furrows heavily before he sticks out a long leg and stomps on a particularly ruthless bud. Don’t say that shit—don’t say it where people can hear it. Even if it’s true. ]

They’re—shit. What kind of place is this?

[ He scrubs the sole of his foot over the poor, trampled flower for good measure. Then he sniffs, wiping under his nose to try and scrub away the fuzzy feeling brought on by a surge of emotion. ]

iii.

[rainswords]

[ Suddenly finding himself face-to-face with a stranger he can't help but yelp in surprise especially when said stranger decided that the best way to enter his residence was by violently bursting into the apartment with the door banging loudly against the wall. Perhaps it was a coincidence that Xingqiu was standing in the foyer at the time as it is obvious that he wasn't planning to out anywhere, not without wearing shoes anyway.

It's that initial shock that has left him mute! And in that moment he takes the time to take in the stranger's appearance. A serious and resolute expression wavers before his eyes and soon the young man's face becomes a bright shade of red. A muttered curse and swift apology follow before his door is unceremoniously closed without any sort of explanation as to why his privacy was intruded upon. Of course, he is confused. This isn't what he was expecting, nor why he had dressed nicely for. Not bothering to grab his shoes he opens the door even before a knock comes.

So of course, he is going to catch the young man with his hand raised about to get his attention. Perhaps he should be upset, however, he can see this is an honest mistake anyone could have made. Really, he should be locking his door now that there are more people living in the city. ]

Good afternoon.

Are you looking for a place to stay or have you forgotten where you've taken up residence? Otherwise, I am curious as to why you chose to enter my home.

chesed | library of ruina

[beanallright]

a. a train comes into the station.

[ There doesn't appear to be any clear indications on whether this subway train is divided into business class and the rest of this city's rabble.

Fascinating.

While others might feel alarmed about landing in unfamiliar circumstances, Chesed's never been able to resist the allure of something new. As the subway pulls into the platform, he rises without a word. Its doors creak open, allowing him the freedom to step over the gap and onto solid concrete.

It seems there's nowhere to go but up. He alights up the stairs, immediately heading for the glowing subway map. ]

Numbered lines... It seems the architect of this station was not known for their impeccable naming senses.

[ It's a statement one might expect to be attributed to an irritated person, but instead, Chesed punctuates the ending with a light laugh. ]

b. welcome to the neighborhood, to the southwest.

[ He'd simply selected the first exit his eyes landed upon.

It's silent. Eerie. If it weren't for the rich greenery and soft damp grass rustling beneath his shoes, Chesed might even consider it spooky. Instead, he stops to occasionally inhale the scent of dew.

The fresh smell and silence is something of a rarity, a privilege.

He's more than content to continue wandering down the meandering path, finally pausing at the sight of a cemetery in disarray. But that's not necessarily a correct description, he thinks to himself. It is not disarray for Mother Nature to reclaim a space that had once belonged to her.

Chesed crouches by a crumbling headstone, thin fingers carefully clearing away ivy vines. Even in this clandestine cemetery, humanity finds its own way of interfering with the natural world.

It's a simpler compulsion that has him working in silence. To be forgotten -- it is a sad thing indeed. ]

c. the poison's in the details.

[ Yet another reason why, between coffee and tea, it's coffee that's the superior beverage. Why Chesed finds himself craving tea of all things is beyond him, but he's too busy pouring himself a cup of tea to contemplate where that strong compulsion is coming from.

...and why on earth is the liquid landing in the teacup blue?

Instead of spending more time dwelling on that thought, he lifts the cup to his lips and drains it of its contents. It tastes... fine, actually, and he even appreciates the delicate flavor washing over his tongue.

What he doesn't appreciate is how his vision grows hazier by the second, objects blurring into shapes and colors blending into one another. It's unfortunate, Chesed thinks, given how he hadn't had the chance to properly appreciate the garden. Now, it seems he's being robbed of the ability to do so.

He lifts the empty cup in his hands to his nose and takes a cautious sniff. The gentle scent of the tea lingers. Good. If he can't appreciate the visual splendor of the gardens, at least he can appreciate each flower's smell. ]

d. wildcard.

[ Feel free to throw something at me if none of these starters are working for you! My permissions page isn't set up, but tbh I'll generally roll with anything. ]

b.... 1/2..... god.... gomen

[bemist]

[ Gebura takes time every so often to check out the graveyard. Not really to linger in the melancholy of a place that apparently has empty graves because why should that make sense in a place like this, but because it's quiet. Cool kids don't go to the graveyard, they go to livelier places and when she definitely wants to avoid the more hyperactive crowd (or even just the friendly one), she comes here.

Well, so much for that plan, because she gets maybe ten steps in, spots that head of blue hair... ]

Hanta Sero | My Hero Academia

[discountspiderman]

I AM...HERE?

[ One thing his parents had instilled in Sero from an early age was that, whenever you're lost somewhere, you look for the police. However, with no real indication of a police booth in the train station, or anywhere above ground once he emerges, he aims for what seems like the next best thing: City Hall. It isn't exactly an embassy, but they would probably know how to point him in the right direction for it, or at least be able to help him get his bearings and let him know where he is (and maybe even how he got here). Unfortunately, the vibe of the place the moment he enters isn't exactly welcoming. In fact, the eerie stillness and stark emptiness of the place is downright spooky. It doesn't take more than a minute for him to make the unsettling connection that City Hall is just like the street leading to it from the train station: devoid of life. It's sort of making him wish he had gotten up the nerve to talk to one of the few people he'd come across on the way up...even though he hadn't been entirely sure they were there. Noises should generally mean people (not ghosts), but the longer he stands in this space, and all of its quiet, the colder the prickling on the back of his neck gets.

Not that he's, you know, afraid or anything, or believes in ghosts.

Yet, somehow, that doesn't stop him from outright panicking and turning tail the moment what was definitely the wind blows in from some unseen open window, and a loud CLUNK emits from far beyond the counter. Sero doesn't hesitate, doesn't let even one bit of his heroic instincts take the reins, and simply hightails it out of the building through the same door that he entered.

Unfortunately for you, that also means a full head-on collision with a lanky, nearly 5-foot-10 teenager, that's hard enough to knock at least one of you to the pavement.

If you heard him screaming right before impact...no you didn't. ]


GET IN, LOSER

[ So, the thing is, while his pajamas are definitely comfortable enough, they're not exactly everyday wear. He'd been lucky enough to come across a shoe store on his expedition to find a place to stay, but with no real indication that he'll be leaving any time soon (and no opportunity to have packed for the trip), there's really only one good place Sero can think of to make it a one-stop shopping day: the local mall. Granted, the last time he'd been able to go to the mall was with the gaggle of the rest of his class, and that hadn't exactly turned out to be a fun day for everyone. But he's fairly certain that Shigaraki and his gang aren't anywhere to be found here. And, even if they are, he's at least somewhat comforted by the idea that if his own Quirk isn't working the way it's supposed to, neither will any of theirs.

...That doesn't mean he wouldn't rather be shopping in a group, rather than by himself, but at least this way he won't have to worry about taking too long picking things out, trying things on, or wandering the layout to even find stores that might have clothes comfortable enough to accommodate his admittedly unusual build. He's not assuming that this place will have the same kinds of accommodating clothing back home does, but, again, if it'll be anywhere it should be at the mall, right?

Yet, to his chagrin, even before he enters the place, he gets the same chilly feeling that City Hall had given him. The building is enormous, sprawling beyond a parking lot without a single vehicle in it. And the building looks old, like nobody's been around to clean it or even inspect it in years, maybe decades. Are all the buildings going to be like this? The government buildings, the street-corner shops, the apartments... ]

Where the heck is everyone?

[ Frowning, and not really sure he's feeling any more excited about trying to find a new outfit or while walking around in his jammies, Sero takes a step forward to pull open the door of the brandless department store. ]


ONE LUMP, OR TWO?

(ooc: for my own sake, i'm requesting just one tag-in per flavor for this one! option d is open to multiple tag-ins. )

[ The park, somehow, is the least strange thing he's come across in the couple of days he's been here. Sure, it's just as empty as everywhere else, but it kinda feels more...natural that way. Parks are meant to be relaxing, meant to give you time and space to meditate on things or just take a breather out in the air and sunshine. While things haven't exactly been stressful in the same way they usually were, Sero doesn't mind the reprieve, and is happy to let his feet wander along the gently worn pathway. And the atmosphere is working. He's feeling almost at ease despite the general weirdness of everything—unnntil it gets weird again. ]

For real?

[ A tea party. In the middle of the forest, chairs askew as if someone's only just abandoned the table. But that doesn't seem quite right either, with the way some of the cups seem half-filled, liquid even still gently steaming in some of them as if they were only just poured. He reaches for the closest one, dipping his nose near the cup to give it a long sniff, drawn in by its—

(a) bright orange color, and is sort of relieved at the immediate familiarity of ginger. Perhaps it isn't the brightest idea, but a bit of a pick-me-up and the warm allure of the tea feels strangely hard to resist, especially since he hadn't brought any snacks with him. Bottom's up!

(b) delicate floral scent. He's sure Yaomomo has brewed this a million times at the dorm, and would probably scold him for not remembering which flower it is. Rose? Chrysanthemum? Jasmine? Whatever it is, it smells a little too heady for his taste, and the strangely clear yellow of it isn't exactly appetizing either, if the crinkle of his nose and the bombastic side eye he gives is any indication.

(c) juicy, red color. But the second he puts it back, he cringes, one eye shut as his tongue rolls out with disdain and surprise at not just the lack of sweetness but the puckering tartness of what is definitely not juice. And perhaps it burns just a bit on the way down, causing a tickle that quickly begins to escalate into a coughing fit.

(d) oh, hey! There is someone else here! Maybe it makes more sense to split a pot than to start drinking out of random, already-poured cups! ]


WILDCARD
( Want to do something else? Sero is amicable, confident, and just a little bit sassy, but he's easy to get along and make friends with. As a 16-year-old, he's likely to be found in any number of places, but especially the gym or the pool, or even an arcade, the bowling alley or the ice cream parlor, and of course, the citizen(?)-run Welcome Diner! However, he is also a steadfast hero-in-training, and is equally likely (maybe even more likely) to be out looking for other people, either to make connections or just to help out with an odd job (especially if you need something stuck together). )

i am... here

[redfeathers]

( Hawks is once again reminded of his missing wings when he hears that scream just before something makes impact with him. There's a soft grunt as Hawks as Sero makes contact with him, the collision sending a jolt of pain through him from the still healing burns under his bandages and clothes. But beyond that small sound, he's quiet as he's toppled over, landing on his behind. There's a louder thunk as his phone falls from his hand as well, dropping heavily onto the ground beside him.

He gives a quick shake of his head to recover from the jar of the fall, but otherwise, he seems entirely unphased from his spot on the floor. He tilts his head up, taking in the person who ran into him.

There's a flash of recognition in the back of his thoughts. A UA student. One of Tokoyami's classmates, specifically. Not one he can recall ever talking to personally, but someone familiar all the same.

The marks at the corner of his eyes crinkle as he smiles under the mask on his face, tilting his head in greeting and lifting one hand in greeting. )

hawks | my hero academia

[redfeathers]

TOURIST CENTER

( If you find yourself in the tourist center, you'll hear the soft shuffle of papers. It might not be immediately obvious where it's coming from until a hand appears from behind the desk to set a folder on top of it. There's a growing stack there of empty folders and a few otherwise useless papers, and after another moment, the hand reappears and there's a peek of messy blond hair and a stretch of white. Hawks is busy going through what he can find in a quest for information, but so far? It's been a lot of nothing.

If you greet him, you'll find his head perk up over the edge of the desk to offer the view of the top of his head - blond hair and rows of bandage both above and below a pair of bright golden eyes. If you decide to move closer to the desk without a word, the shuffling will continue. Either way, you'll be greeted with a computerized voice from the other side of the desk. )

Looking for something?

DEADLY BEAUTIES

( Hawks wouldn't say he has any particular affinity for plants, let alone a confined space like a green house, but he's made his way here in his wandering all the same. Both signs are greeted with a curious tilt of his head, but he's otherwise quiet as he makes his way through.

The bright eyes are turned upward, watching the vines overhead as he goes. His trek is cut short when one of those potted plants darts on, snapping at him. He's more than fast enough to move out of the path of those tiny teeth, but it doesn't stop another from taking its shot. Not a place he wants to be, he decides quickly, but just as he turns to head back for the exit, he's stopped by the curl of a vine that descends in front of him, just shy of touching him. He makes a soft, rough sound in the back of his throat as he steps around it, though the sound of footsteps nearby catches his attention.

Without looking, he's tapping quickly at the phone in his hand, the computerized voice from the phone saying: )

Careful. These guys are a little too friendly.

PHARMACY

( After his stint in the green house, any place where he's not stuck in a small glass building with overly friendly plants is welcome. He's made his way through a few other places, but his current stop is the pharmacy. If you happen to be in the area, you'll hear a few soft 'thumps' from one of the aisles. If you follow the sound, you'll find Hawks crouched neatly as he pulls a few things from one of the bottom shelves. Every minute or so, a couple boxes fall into the cart before he's reaching for something different.

A glance towards the basket will reveal a few different boxes of gauze and bandages, some disinfectant, and various items meant to treat burns.
If you're wondering why, a quick look at him will show most his face and neck are covered by bandages. Your presence will catch his attention quickly, but given his mouth covering, no verbal greeting comes. Instead, there's only a tip of the blond head, a shift of his brows and turn at the corner of his eyes that says under all that, he's smiling. He holds up one of his hands, showing the front of the box to you.

There's a small shake of his hand, his way of asking, do you need it? )

NETWORK, GENERAL | un: hawks

Anyone feel like helping a guy change some bandages?

NETWORK, PLANTS | un: hawks

Are all of the plants here touchy feely or is it just the greenhouse?

WILD CARD/MISC.

( ooc Of note, Hawks is currently injured, and his upper body is bandaged up. He doesn't have his wings, and he'll be using his device to verbally communicate.

In general, he'll will be out and about getting a feel for different things. You're welcome to run into him wherever or send him a network on the message. If you'd like a specific starter or want to discuss something, feel free to DM. )

deadly beauties

[scowlish]

I've noticed.

[Onni says it in a sort of deadpan voice, watching as a vine starts to snake toward the other man again, just out of the edge of his peripheral vision. Lifting a hand, he slaps the vine away and reaches out to give him a little tug on the shoulder.]

We should get out of here.

[Dropping the momentary grip on his shoulder, Onni turns, lifting his hands to bat at more vines, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the other man is coming.]

I've never seen plants like this, have you?

Vash the Stampede // Trigun Stampede

[bountyfull]

THE STATION

[ Vash is Stubborn. He's also at least semi-comfortable with the level of machinery and technology here in a way that many people from his planet might not be. It's not exactly the same as what he's used to there, nor is it anything like on the SEEDS ship. It's somewhere weirdly in between, which is part of what makes this place feel so dreamlike.

The rest, of course, is the fact that it's so desolately empty. Quiet like you could hear a pin drop, too. It makes every movement he makes seem so much louder in retrospect. He steps off the train, then back on. The doors close and then open again and Vash steps off again, like he's waiting for the train to do something, go somewhere. It doesn't, of course. It's probably almost comical if anyone were to happen on him as he does this, but considering he doesn't expect it, he feels no need to restrain himself as he puzzles his out.

Eventually, he lifts a sea-green prosthetic hand up to rub at the back of the undercut of his hair. ]

Jeez. This really doesn't make sense, does it?

[ Vash who the fuck are you talking to, buddy? ]

CONVENIENCE STORE

[ He hadn't really expected to run into anyone here, really. Not after spending so much of his time alone so far. So when he rounds a corner in one of the stocked convenience stores with a few bags of chips and snacks in his arms he doesn't expect to walk slam into someone else. Like some sort of comedy show Vash manages to scramble and stay upright, catching the bags in his arms before they fall to the ground.

He looks a little startled, and then, when he registers that he's run into someone and not something his expression shifts to concern. He's immediately stuffing the snacks onto a shelf or tossing them onto the floor to offer a hand up or to brush the person off. ]

Woah, sorry. Didn't expect anyone else to be in here! Are you ok?

POISONED TEA

I dunno... I guess it's kind of inviting, but I've never been a real fan of drinking things I don't recognize...

[ He looks...apprehensive. Sure, the food and drinks he'd found in the convenience store upon arrival were fine, but there's something about this that has him feeling a little unsettled. Maybe it's because the whole situation is unsettling and now he's filled his nervous stomach with enough junkfood that he's less keen on taking big risks because he's got a weakness for snacks.

But also, maybe, it's just strange to come upon a tea party already in progress. Vash glances to his company (who knows how long they've been wandering around together, honestly) and tilts his head to the side a bit, one eyebrow lifting in question. ]

For someplace so empty, it really seems like it's safer to wander around with someone else, huh?

A DROP OF BLOOD

[ Heading left, the atmosphere in this place isn't any lighter. It's different but in a way that doesn't feel any less eerie. In fact, the strange, sharp looking plants are a little alarming, despite Vash's realization that he rather likes the color green and the way the air smells when the ground is damp. In here, the scent is certainly less pleasant, and when he looks closer to the stained dirt, he can tell why.

He was lucky enough to not be alone when he chose this particular path, so after a moment he turns and watches their reaction to their surroundings, his own expression hidden behind semi-reflective round shades. ]

So... I think we might want to play it a little safe here. What do you think?

[ In the shadows of the aisles, underneath the tables that hold some of the shorter plants something in the shadows moves, undulating in the darkness in a way that almost seems like a predator stalking its prey. Vash hasn't noticed it, not yet, but it's there—waiting. ]

NETWORK | UN: STAMPEDE

[ Before any of his other adventures, and shortly after finding himself stepping off of an empty, eerie train... ]
Uhhhh, so...
This place feels pretty empty.

Is it?
Hello?

WILDCARD

[ If none of these suit, please feel free to make something up on your own! Vash is going to be exploring just about everywhere he can, and would definitely be drawn to the greener parts of the city out of sheer curiosity. If you would like you can also hit me up over on plurk at kermitkin ]

Network; username: rabbit_ebrooks

[reaperrabbit]

hello (hello) ((hello)) (((hello)))

yea idk it's pretty empty as far as i've seen so far.
there's some people ig?
but not enough for a whole fucking city.

Rosella of Daventry | King's Quest IV

[savewell]

A — OH, WORM

[In the midst of the city park stands a girl of about eighteen years of age, looking for all the world like she's walked straight out of one of Charles Perrault's fairy tales: long golden hair, brilliant blue eyes, white princess dress with blue accents as crisp and pristine as a summer sky. It's a strikingly fitting environment, in its way — the fresh air, the lush green of the flora, the quiet atmosphere of nature all around. Truly, she is the very picture of elegance and taste —

Or would be, except for the part where she walks straight off the path, gets down on her knees, and starts digging around in the dirt with her bare hands, utterly unmindful of how it covers her pristine fingers with clumpy soil and grass stains, or dampens the skirt of her gown from the dew.]

Oh, bother, there must be one around somewhere. With all the damp, surely...

[She glances around, visibly checking the empty branches of the nearby trees like she's looking for something in particular, then sighs and resumes her seemingly fruitless grubbing.]

B — TEA IS FOR TREACHEROUS

[Well, here's one place that a princess straight out of a fairytale looks right at home: at a garden tea party that seems straight out of Alice in Wonderland. At first, she just sort of wanders around the perimeter of long table, idly fiddling with a white rose she'd plucked from the curious garden on her way in; after a little while, she gets brave about it, and moves a little closer as the pretty teacups and smell of the tea begins to draw her in.

And then, of course, the compulsion hits.]

Well...surely just one wouldn't hurt, would it?

[She glances around, surveying the area for any other attendees of the party, and if you happen to be nearby, she'll gesture politely to the teapots in the center.]

Oh! Would you care to join me? I, er — I rather think it's all here to be enjoyed, don't you? It seems that way, at least, and I'd be more than happy to pour...

[Which color tea will she select? Only time will tell — please choose between blue, yellow, or orange when tagging in, or leave it up to me to randomize!]

C — THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENERHOUSE

[Whatever possessed her to come into the greenhouse at all? A natural sense of curiosity, probably, and a compulsion to seek out help wherever and however she might find it, even in the unlikeliest of places. The greenhouse has a foreboding air to it, even just a few steps inside the doors, and Rosella finds herself standing there on the horns of a dilemma for quite a conspicuous length of time, peering uncertainly at the two signs directing left and right, seeming to try to weigh out which sounds worse — DEADLY BEAUTIES or BEAUTIFUL DEADLIES.

The thing is, they're both bad. They're bad grammatically and they're bad in implication. Really, she ought to just leave altogether —

Thief, comes a whisper from the right-side path, making her freeze even as she's beginning to turn around and leave the way she came.]

...Is — is someone there?

[For a minute, all is silent; it's as she's turning to go once more that the whisper comes again.

Murderer.

This time, she really does stop short, and the way she calls back is rough and not very ladylike at all.]

I said, is someone there!

[Silence again. Lingering, oppressive silence. And finally, finally, Rosella takes the poisoned bait, and against her judgment begins to edge down the path of BEAUTIFUL DEADLIES.]

D — WILDCARD

[None of the above prompts hitting you? Feel free to toss one my way, or ask for a custom prompt of a different variety!]

[OOC: Credit for the fanart link in Prompt A goes to oglops!]

A

[reposing]

[The dress isn't the most shocking thing for Alucard to see. It does mark her quite clearly for who she is, as nobility, perhaps one of the English or French. Difficult to say, but that isn't the important part here.

No, the more... confusing portion of this is watching this presumably noble woman dig her hands around in the muck for. Something.]

And just what treasure are you hoping to dig up?

Adrian "Alucard" Ţepeş | Castlevania

[reposing]

i. arrival

[You ever have one of those days where you're like--]

This might as well fucking happen.

[--right, like that one.

Now, Alucard has had better days. It might be hard to believe but over a year ago, he was decently happy, but it turns out that zealot followers of a church executing your doctor mother and causing your vampire father to spiral into madness is just a good way to kick off for a very terrible time, and it sure hasn't stopped since. He's sporting an unfortunate hangover, and he's squinting as he stumbles off of the train, feeling oddly sapped of his strength. The train is an interesting design, he thinks mildly, an itch of interest in the back of his mind but shelved for the time being.

After all, more importantly, he's wondering how the hell this has happened while also genuinely accepting that it might as well be par for the course.

A remotely social man might stop and ask questions, but Alucard isn't really inclined to do it that way, so as he bumps into a person here and there, he simply grumbles under his breath and keeps pushing forward. Just before he gets to the exit of the station, he realizes something.]

Where the fuck is my sword?


ii. the dog one

[So. Mistakes were made.

One of them being that Alucard had thought to transform into his wolf form to remain more inconspicuous and, ideally, less likely for people to want to talk to him. The only problem is that he's quickly discovered that on top of many of is usual abilities being sapped, he's currently stuck like this for awhile yet. How long, he doesn't know, but long enough that he's pretty pissed about it.

So one can easily spot a rather large white wolf with intense golden eyes and a long scar on his chest sniffing around the city, huffing to himself, and somehow giving off the sensation that he's rather cross despite not being able to say a damned thing.]


iii. the network one | text | un: just.alucard

So. Pros and cons of being here.

Pros: I'm not reminded of home every waking moment.

Cons: I can't just crush a rock with my bare hands if I felt like it.

Those are the main things I have so far.

Your turn.

iii. - text; un: archon

[onlythans]

and just how often do you feel like crushing rocks with your bare hands, out of curiosity?

a rough estimation would do if you aren't able to quantify it precisely

Christo | Disgaea 5

[evangelclairvoyance]

A. is for Arrival -- Subway

Interesting... This one has signal, but this one's almost dead. And I'm sure I charged it earlier...

[A young man with somewhat... plastic-looking horns sets both cell phones down on the table in front of him and adjusts his glasses, humming thoughtfully as he he looks between them.]

And I know for a fact I get signal in most Netherworlds. Just where is this?


B is for Bad Ideas -- Greenhouse Tea

...And so you decided to drink tea from an abandoned picnic table in a suspicious, overgrown greenhouse that advertises itself on the fact that it only contains poisonous plants?

[Not that there isn't some odd sort of pull trying to get him to drink the stuff as well, but that's not important right now. What IS important is judging this person for their clearly terrible decisions. He's not mad (most people make terrible decisions compared to a genius like himself). He's just disappointed.]

((Please make sure to list which tea your character drank!))


C. is for Cpamphlets. They can't all be winners. -- Out in front of the tourist center

[Christo has been kidnapped my mysterious people and dumped in a city and all he got was this lousy t-shirt tourist pamphlet. Not that he hasn't tried! Empty books, unhelpful kiosks, no people in charge to speak to whatsoever...

There are other options, of course--namely those people who are in much the same situation as himself, but reaching out when he doesn't even know what sort of world this sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

And so he's left with this. And he wonders just how desperate for information he really is.]

A cemetary as a charm point for a city as big as this... I'm not sure how I feel about that.

cphamplets

[bountyfull]

Well, I guess it would be important for anyone who lived here.

[ He says, but the expression on his face likely indicates that he feels much the same as Christo. There's really not much reason to put something in a pamphlet, like it's some kind of tourist attraction. It's weird, and kind of gauche. ]

Not that... it seems that anyone is in this city but people like us.

[ The horns have certainly been noticed but Vash has not remarked about them. Maybe he's just being polite, but also it's really none of his business. ]

Maki Zen'in | Jujutsu Kaisen

[fuckthefamily]

Maki exits the train once it stops, phone and pamphlet tucked away as she surveys the station. Quieter than she's used to, at least in regards to the stations in Tokyo but the lack of people pretty much explains that. And once she's exited into the city proper, through the east exit, the entire situation becomes more disturbing.

She's never been around this much silence in a city and while her footsteps keep moving forward, her attention is on everything around her, listening for any sounds as she picks her way through the streets, checking the restaurants and shops for any signs of life.

Because there has to be someone else here.

[Anime compliant, only up to most recent episode but I'm playing pre Shibuya for this. Also open to wildcards for any of the other prompts.]