[ OPEN ] July Catch-all!

[unrequite]

WHO: Midnight (unreserving) & You (you)
WHAT: Midnight, please calm down, it's only been a week, you can't be this much of a disaster already.
WHERE: Lots of places! Mostly in outdoor or public spaces he hasn't been to yet. If you would like a closed or specific prompt, please PM me or take a peek at my OOC intro so I can get you set up!
WHEN: Pre and post Sylvain's shitpost. Probably mostly pre-event!
WARNINGS: Most definitely alcohol use! Some references to death and terminal illness. Will update as necessary, please see Midnight's content warnings for possible canon-typical content.


a. day (a local gym)

[ Generic workout routine. He does arms and legs on alternating days for about two to three hours there starting at about 7 am, then an hour (or however long he has at the end of the day until, uh, midnight) before showering and going home. He may also steal a practice room and swing around a stick he's found in lieu of his sword... He should probably think about getting a practice sword made, huh.

He's friendly, cleans up after himself, and will spot for anyone, but also feel free to accost him walking in or out of the facilities! But also, if your character needs... well, less of a personal coach and more of a cheerleader, he's there for you. Why'd you ask him for this? I don't know, but he's so there for you at this lateral press, bench, tiny silicone dumbbells, whatever. He is rooting for you! ]

Two more in the set and you're done. Don't think about it, just do it!

b. day (shopping center)

[ Midnight just needs to go clothes shopping. That's it. He'll carry bags for people, he'll help out with menial tasks. Look at this guy, do gooding.

Okay, specifically: ]

Do you think anyone would mind if I procured that?

[ He points at a neon sign, a bright Edison light, a small discoball, a chandelier. Something very bright, flashy, and... probably not intended for sale. ]

I mean, I don't suppose there's a manager, and I wouldn't like to interfere with their marketing, but I quite like it.

[ ... He rolls up his sleeves, drags over a chair, and begins climbing. He's decided he doesn't need an opinion anymore, or just straight up didn't wait for an answer. Look, sometimes a guy just desires a lava lamp. ]

c. evening (town hall)

[ Once the dust settles and everyone is perfectly happy with the distinct lack of helpful information in the help center, Midnight will still arrive there in the evenings, haul out a bunch of books into an empty side room, and flip through them, a plastic bag of assorted drinks at his side. (Mostly alcohol and water.)

Weird nightclub looking vampire here, books open on his lap, spinning a pen between his fingers. Occasionally, if someone walks by his room and doesn't look too busy, he'll get up, go to the door, and gesture to them, an open book in his hand. ]

Hello, love. Do me a favor and write anything you like here.

[ He clicks the pen in his hand and offers it. Man's doing some experimenting! ]

d. night (the park)

[ Remember the stick he has at the gym? He needed to find it at some point. During the evenings, but honestly any time he isn't doing something else throughout the first three or four days, he'll be poking around the park, searching for fallen branches long and straight enough to do the trick. It'll take a while, and he definitely looks like he's lost something! (Or feel free to assume that you've already joined the hunt. Find a bird's nest with no birds! An odd little gravestone! Get stuck up a tree! Help!!!)

If that is overly gung-ho Boy Scout behavior, feel free to catch him a little later in the night, either from 9-10 pm or 1-2 am, sitting at a bench, workout bag sitting at his side, his running shoes neatly tied by their laces and looped around the strap.

He stares out into the darkness. That's... sort of it. It still seems like he's looking for something, but not to the point where he's about to get up and look for it. If one would like to sneak up on him using the cover of darkness, his eyes will slide over and lock on a little more quickly than what should be natural. He sees you.

He grins. (Even if he isn't surprised, he grins.) ]

Hello, darling. Having a pleasant walk?

e. morning (everywhere!)

[ Remember when we said Midnight starts his workout routine at 7 am? He actually starts at 6 am with a jog. He'll be everywhere, just exploring, and he'll use most of the subway systems to make his way back to his gym of choice. He is... not shy at all about his body, so he'll probably pull off his shirt once the sun comes up so he can cool down a bit.

He is truly minding his own business here, but he'll pause his run for anything, even if it's just a short conversation. Or just feel free to wonder why there's a shirtless, sweaty vampire on public transportation at like 7 am. Where does he need to be? Where does anyone need to be??? ]

f. day (city hall, again, late July)

[ Midnight has a seat he's pulled up to the information kiosk, but he doesn't use it all that often. He only sits to add to a growing list in a book he keeps on his person. If one would peek over his shoulder, the list is composed of questions, some pertinent, some less so. Please feel free to make one up, but the first on the list is definitely "Are you single?", which should tell you how seriously he's taking this endeavor. ]

g. evening (shopping district)

[ Not much to this prompt either, he's just poking around. Poking around at the restaurants and bars in the area, his planner occasionally out as he takes notes on... something or other. He tries to choose establishments that see less traffic, so it's very likely that wherever he finds someone, they're the only two in the building. ]

Sorry to interrupt your meal. Mind if I ask you a few questions?

h. wildcard

Feel free to make your own starter, or PM for one! Will match prose and bracket text, please start however you like.

Comments

day / shopping

[indwelt]

[ Turns out when you land yourself on an indefinite vacation to a deserted city with no time to pack beforehand, the importance of stocking up on outfits rises exponentially. Sure, there's a laundromat he can wash his clothes in, but what is he supposed to do while his single outfit is in the wash, stand around in nothing but his boxers? How terribly impolite.

So here he is, at the abandoned shopping mall, a few extra sweaters draped over one arm as he stares up at the disco ball hanging from the ceiling, squinting through his glasses to keep from being blinded entirely. It certainly is colorful... Not his choice of household decor but to each their own. The world would a far less exciting place if everyone had tehe same tastes anyway. ]

Think of it as longterm borrowing. Whenever you end up leaving, you can simply return it back to the store.

[ Nothing wrong with that, right?? ]

It reminds me of some of the lights Pom-Pom tested on the Express awhile back.

[unrequite]

[ Midnight looks around the base of the disco ball once he's up on this platform. (Let's say he's climbed one of the mannequin displays in an offbrand Uniqlo. Just shimmied his long ass right up there.)

He wonders if he could just. Pull it out? ]

Who's that? This "Pom-Pom" character.

[ A test pull. He'll address the ethics of whatever he's doing once he's done. Right now: ball. ]

[indwelt]

[ ...That's a pretty impressive balancing act he's got going on up there on the platform. Truly, the youths (because everyone's a youth when you're 82) fear so little these days. It still doesn't stop him from taking a step closer to where Midnight is, just in case something breaks and this whole operation goes tumbling down. Not that his feeble old man arms would be able to do much, but it's the thought that counts. ]

Pom-Pom's the conductor of the Astral Express. Oh, the Express is the train I was traveling on before I arrived here.

[ At some he probably ought to mention Pom-Pom's inhuman nature as a three foot tall talking rabbit-like creature, but no point in sweating the details right now. ]

They're very committed to making sure all the passengers aboard are well taken care of, with all their needs met. Not unlike this place, I suppose, but far more personable.

[unrequite]

[ Carpe diem! You only live once! Midnight's had too many brushes with death to value his own neck anymore. (Also, he read on the network that dying does nothing? A little unsettling, but he can work with that.)

Poor Grandpa. Midnight will be very careful, if only to prevent his new friend from breaking a hip. ]

Sounds like a lovely individual. I do love a good host.

[ Another test pull. The thing does seem like it's drilled pretty securely up there... He might need a screwdriver if the thing is too secure. (Oh, he'll probably need the spotlight to make it do the dancy light thing, too... Many considerations to make, here.) ]

Do you think we might ever see a host? If they have the wherewithal to handcuff us, I would like to think that there's someone to meet, if you understand me.

[indwelt]

[ Understand he does, confirmed by a small nod of his head. ]

People don't usually wake up in a strange place without someone behind the curtains conducting everything. But I can't say we'll get the honor of meeting our host any time soon. It would ruin the build-up of suspense of all this.

[ Not that this is some sort of mystery drama meant to be aired on television or anything.

He watches as the man does his thing, equal parts fascination and concern written all over his face. Clearly the desire for bright dancing lights had been something born from impulse. Nothing wrong with that - spur of the moment decisions are often as, if not more, rewarding than those carefully planned out - but it does make this whole thing a tad more difficult. ]

Would you like me to find some tools for you? Maybe some sort of wrench, or a screwdriver?

[ There aren't any police around these parts, but the thought of them standing around committing what might as well be considered theft has a trickle of unease sliding down his spine nonetheless. ]

[unrequite]

Mmm... Well, you know, I've been thinking about those handcuffs recently.

[ what ]

With regards to people and crime, and whatnot. I wanted to see what constitutes a crime in the eyes of our good hosts.

[ oh.

He looks down and grins. ]

You should get me some tools if you'd like to experiment with me. [ ... phrasing? ] I've already ruled out public intoxication, unfortunately, so vandalism and theft is next on the list. If you don't want to be an accessory to my crimes, I'd suggest you close your eyes and think pleasant thoughts while I woo this lady down.

a!

[centile]

[being kidnapped is no reason not to keep up with working out, and mob knows captain musashi and the body improvement club would be disappointed if he let himself slack. so when mob finds a gym he tries to keep it in his memory and go to it regularly, or at least for the same amount of time he'd spend on club days.

so there's a 14 year old who is wildly out of shape in the gym sometimes. he keeps to himself, cleans up, is also pretty polite all things considered. he often works out to the point of nearly passing out, aka it doesn't take much to get him to that state but boy, does he not give up.

like now, using the babiest barbells imaginable, sweating and trying his best to get just another lift in. the fact someone is cheering him on? that makes him blink but then nod, determined. two more!]

Fight... on... [he manages the club motto and gets those final two, letting the weight fall to floor as he wheezes a little. give him a moment before he's looking up, a faint smile. he did it!!]

[unrequite]

[ HIGH. FIVE. (If the poor kid is too tuckered out to high five him, Midnight will gently pick up his wrist and bring that five to him.)

He will then sit down next to the bench, fold his legs, and look around for the kid's water bottle to hand to him. (He... he did bring a water bottle, right? Can he sit up? Who is looking after these kids, man?) ]

Was that your last set?

[ He asks that pretty conversationally, genuinely curious. Fitness is a process he takes very seriously, and he's not about to belittle someone who's taking some very brave steps in the right direction. ]

[indwelt]

anyway

[indwelt]

[ what—


oh. ]

Seems like a lot of folks have been looking into that recently.

[ Said with a half-smile. While he's not keen on seeing anyone handcuffed (or memory wiped) again in the name of judicial punishment, better they get an ideal of what sentencing they're looking at than to stumble upon it unawares. ]

I'm not exactly an innocent old man myself. You'd be surprised at the kinds of things you get dragged into when you're accompanying a group of kids on their adventures through space.

[ The words themselves might sound deprecating but the warmth in his voice implies anything but. His newly acquired clothes get set aside while he goes to sift through the nearby shelves in search of anything usable. A hammer? Probably not, unless Midnight doesn't mind doing a bit of reconstruction. A length of rope? No thanks to any ideas of bondage (for now). Give him a minute to continue digging.... ]

LMF

[unrequite]

Old, huh...

[ Midnight had returned his attention to the disco ball, but he looks down at Welt again, somewhat bemused. Welt doesn't look a day over 35. (Although Midnight's one to talk... Vampire genetics have given him some flawless 30 year old looks that will stay with him for. Well. A bit.) ]

Not sure if I swallow that. The lack of innocence seems much more realistic. [ phr- this is a losing battle, never mind. ] The space travel, too.

[ He watches Welt sift through possible supplies for a bit before turning his attention upward again, this time to the small spotlight nearby, similarly drilled into the ceiling. ]

What crimes are you committing with your little flock, hm?

[indwelt]

[ Look, sometimes you're forced to blow up yourself up for the sake of saving the world and rebuild your entire physical body from a consciousness stored in a rock and things get a little fucky in the process and you stop aging, it's fine.

But if Midnight's looking for any sort of explanation, one isn't forthcoming. At least, not anything more than a placid smile. ]

Oh you know, destruction of property, breaking and entering, withholding information from the local authorities. Just the usual business.

[ Is that usual......well. ]

They're good kids though. They just have a tendency to jump without looking ahead, as the saying goes. [ But anyway. ] How's this?

[ He holds up screwdriver, one of those Phillips head ones. ]

[unrequite]

[ Midnight grins as he keeps track of all of the screw locations in his head. You know, he respects that. He, too, dislikes giving people answers.

He looks down, squints. ]

Might be a bit too small. Toss it here.

[ He holds out a hand and makes a grabby gesture. Only one way to find out, right? ]

Do you mind the consequences? Time spent in handcuffs is time that could be better spent somewhere else.

[ He means the city's policing, but he could also be talking about getting in trouble with the authorities wherever Welt's from. Honestly, he's just chatting to chat. ]

[centile]

[midnight you are saving his life. meaning he does try to raise his arm and might need that help in giving a very weak high five but hey? high five had. they did it.

he did bring a water bottle- hydration is important! body improvement club taught him this. he's a little slumped where he's sitting as he takes a drink, letting out a little sigh in relief.]

Yes. [if he does anymore he'll probably pass out anyway.] I only just started working out this semester.

[as if that isn't painfully obvious. he offers a small smile though.] Thank you for the support. You come here a lot?

[unrequite]

[ Midnight grins another toothy grin in return. A bit of a fangy grin! It's very heartfelt, though. ]

You're welcome. I do, every day. Self-improvement only comes with constant, steady practice, after all. That you're persisting after months of training speaks well of your character, young sir.

[ This is the last time I'll say this, but Midnight really, truly means what he says. All of it! He never skips out unless he's physically incapable of doing a full set, and even then he has shorter plans for when he's sick or short on time. ]

What's your name?

c

[miyagimagic]

[ Daniel can't help but wander back out towards the town hall.

Sure, he already was here earlier. Sure, he's found out that it doesn't seem like there's anything important here - nothing that could lead him towards finding a way out of here, anyway. Nothing that would actually lead him home, which is where he wants to go.

But he can't help but hope that there's something. Maybe he just overlooked it. And he should probably go out anyway, instead of sitting inside by himself and feeling utterly miserable, especially with his physical state still not being great.

It's why - rather than an immediate verbal response - Daniel just.. gives Midnight a look.

It's somewhere in the middle of confusion and something more judgemental.

He raises an eyebrow, as if to say 'why,' not quite grabbing the pen yet. Despite the fact that Daniel isn't asking why out loud, it's still written all over his face as he looks at the other. ]

[indwelt]

[ Bold of him to trust an old man wearing glasses to toss him anything. What if he aims wrong and bonks the guy on the head? But thankfully there's no injury immediately forthcoming, Welt tossing over the screwdriver with surprisingly good aim; so long as Midnight makes a smidgeon of effort, it ought to be a successful relay.

There's a lot he could say in reply to that question. When previous consequences have resulted in both the loss of his physical body and years spent in an imaginary dimension, a simple set of handcuffs doesn't seem so bad. But all that is probably too much to unload on a first meeting. ]

Not like I really have anywhere else to be. [ Well— ] I suppose there are people waiting for me back home, but there's no point in rushing things when we know so little about our circumstances. Besides—

[ and here he shoots Midnight a lopsided smil,e ]

Time learning more about the rules of this place and what we can and can't do is still a pretty good use of time.

[unrequite]

[ Midnight just wiggles his eyebrows and grins, seeing if he'll take it, before giving into a laugh and turning a page to where his own handwriting spreads over the pages. He doesn't seem bothered by the judgment, slight as it is. ]

It's an experiment. See, this is a proper book —

[ He flips to the cover, displaying it in its blank glory. ]

— or at least it doesn't look like it's intended to be a logbook or journal, does it? I've been told that things tend to reset here, so I want to see if that extends to books that otherwise, well... miss the point.

[ He reopens it and flips back to a blank page. ]

As far as I'm concerned, a blank book is a journal. Or a sketchbook. Any manner of lovely things. I'd like to see if the City agrees.

d!

[bemist]

[ Gebura sucks at being idle, unless she's in a safe enough place to... well, meditate with her eyes closed. Which is more or less a nap, which is more or less not something that's going to happen while she remains on high alert even after a month of being here.

So she does something like patrols, moving about silently throughout the city at night, just liking the thought of being present in the off-chance that something happens.

What happens now, it seems, is passing this guy at close to 10 at night and having him call out to her.

Reluctantly, Gebura's stride slows, the faint orange glow of her cigarette flaring up slightly as she inhales. ]

I don't walk for the joy of it. What are you doing here?

[ ... on a bench. At night. Is this host work? ]

[unrequite]

Right you are.

[ (A good smile. Midnight thinks this grandpa is pretty all right.)

Midnight is very fortunately gifted with some stellar spatial awareness. (Vampire stuff. Nerfed at the moment.) He grabs the screwdriver, looks at it carefully, then reaches up and tries it with the disco ball. Just too small for it to work, although he keeps fiddling with it, trying to make it work. ]

Could you look for another? The same shape, but I think this might only work for the spotlight.

[ He switches over, still chatting away. ]

People waiting at home... Your little flock, then? Is it right to call it a flock? You seem a bit mother fowlbeast, if I may say so.

[indwelt]

[ He laughs good-naturedly at the description, turning back to the eclectic selection of tools on display to do as told, the clang of metal against metal echoing through the air. ]

Is that how I come off? [ He can see it, when he leans back and thinks about it. ] Technically speaking, I'm a father, but I suppose herding youngsters around is more stereotypically the role assigned to a mother figure.

[ In which case, he definitely qualifies for the role of mother fowlbeast. ]

[unrequite]

[ ma'am. he'd be insulted. he is always hosting. the grind don't stop at dawn! there are always women to serenade!!!! ]

I was waiting here for you, Miss Gebura. [ ... ] In interest of our perpetual agreement to keep things honest, that was a joke, but I'm very happy to see you again. I was hoping we'd cross paths at some point.

[ He scoots over and pats the seat next to him. The expression on his face could be best described as ":)?". ]

Please. If you don't walk for the joy of it, might I suggest sitting?

night/park

[cinaedus]

[ Camille, despite his recent past of sneaking into all sorts of locations whether covert or not, is not in the habit of sneaking up on people. It would be difficult anyway, with his looks - he tends to stand out, and he's used to working with that. It's even more difficult now, the click of well-polished heels along the walkway. The sound isn't offensive amidst the silence of the evening, but it is certainly noticeable.

He notices the man some distance away, but doesn't hurry in his steps. He might be lost in thought, were Camille to wager. But when the other turns to him, speaks, the kindred pauses just a moment longer than necessary.

It's an impulse, like it always is, the response like fight-or-flight, like his heart jumps briefly into his throat, like he can remember what those truly are anymore. It's the urge of the beast to push out, to dominate. It's a split second before Camille places why: this man is like him — though, not quite, is he? Neither is he lupine, or ghoul. No, he thinks even as he smiles sweetly in return, this man is most like himself. ]

It's a beautiful night. I hope I am not interrupting your evening unduly. [ His voice is soft, warm, not like a blanket in winter but like the spice of mulled wine sitting pleasantly in the belly. ]

[unrequite]

[ While Midnight isn't quite catching the same connection, his eyes do float downward, then back up to give the stranger's eyes an approving look. He's very familiar with those who walk through life expecting to draw one's eye. He does the same. ]

If this is what constitutes an interruption in your eyes, I think I'd like to request several more.

[ Midnight smiles, moves to the side, and gestures to the empty space. ]

Join me.

[miyagimagic]

[ Well, at least this makes a little more sense.

It gets Daniel to step into the room more properly - mostly to head right for a chair, so he can actually sit down as he's considering all of it. There's bruises on Daniel's face and throat that might indicate why he has to sit down to consider it in the first place. He doesn't look that old, after all.

Then he lifts up a hand, ready to accept the pen if Midnight will hand it to him again.

Even if there's no verbal agreement, his intent is clear - he'll help with this experiment, if it might tell them anything more at all about this place.

If it'll get them anywhere closer to getting out of here.

If the other will grant him the pen and the book, Daniel will bend over it to start writing. He actually angles the book so Midnight can see, since the message is definitely also intended for him at the same time. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

He starts to write, attempting a-- ]

Sorry. I can't speak.