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?
▶ 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.
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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 center. 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.
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
AND IN THE END, WE’RE ALL CHASING THE SAME THING.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Monthly prompt includes the potential for rotten food, food waste, insects, vomiting, claustrophobia/tight spaces, as well as the potential for violence, mutilation, or death. Please label potentially triggering content in subject headers and interact responsibly with threads!
District Five is now open, and with it comes the bright, blinding lights of a large diner, nestled comfortably within the buildings. Per the signage on the outside, plastered to the windows, this diner touts the 'best food in the City' with 'killer milkshakes' and 'divine burgers', and comes decorated with bright, luminescent stars made out of orange and yellow lightbulbs, which blink in and out to some unknown timer. Creatively, of course, the name of this establishment appears to be just DINER'S—though there's no indication of who 'Diner' might be or why this place belongs to them. Large, round windows show the inside, which appears to be styled after a typical old-fashioned diner: there's a red-and-white checkered floor, bright yellow tables and booths, and a large wrap-around counter that seems to frame a large kitchen beyond it.
The building looks reasonable, from the outside, but once you make it past the door—with its helpful, cheerful little clang of bells—the diner stretches out before you like an ocean. It looks much wider on the inside, as though someone has taken the whole floor plan and stretched it this way and that like Play-Doh. It doesn't really matter though, does it? Once inside, you find yourself absolutely famished, and decide to seat yourself somewhere comfortable: in a cozy booth, on a cozy stool, tucked into a cozy chair.
The food arrives as it does with any other restaurant in the city; no one is necessarily there to make it for you, but it arrives once you've either voiced your order out loud, or simply thought it to yourself. One moment the table is empty, you look away to the bright menu board above the kitchen doorway, and the next moment, there's a plate there, full of exactly what you ordered. Perfect! You dig into your food, enjoying the peppy atmosphere and bright colors.
Still, you're not quite satiated by that much food, so you order again. This time, the food shows up a little wrong, but hey, they're probably busy back there in the kitchen, right? The fries are a little soggy, maybe, or a little frozen; the burger is a little too pink on the inside, or the bun's got a bit of mold. You try to eat around it.
But more food isn't coming until you clear your plate! So you choke down that half-frozen meat patty and find yourself still hungry. The next plate comes, worse than the previous: something is squirming around under all that mayonnaise, nestled within the moldy lettuce. Perhaps there are maggots there, clamoring for space in your burger patty, or maybe it's that the salad is flecked with tiny little spots of dirt, the vegetables half-rotted. You try to get up from the table, but nothing is happening—you're rooted in the spot, unable to move. Are you going to have the stomach to clear this plate again?
The diner is a larger, more decorated restaurant than any of the others in the city. It's reminiscent of the old-fashioned sort of diners popular in America, with malt milkshakes and bold colors and things of that nature. On the outside, it looks the same size as any other restaurant, but the inside seems much larger, almost to an unsettling degree. Characters are welcome to walk around and can access all places in the diner, including the kitchen, the bathroom, etc. The diner is a permanent location.
Characters will feel compelled to sit down and eat a meal, however. Once they sit, they will be stuck in that seat for two hours unless they are able to clear three plates of increasingly disgusting food. Feel free to make up whatever sort of food you wish! If characters share their meals with another character, no matter what plate they're on, they will be able to get up from the table immediately after they clear that plate together. The food cannot be destroyed, and if it's thrown off the table, it will come back again—only worse.
JUMP TO TOP ↑ | ↓ JUMP TO COMMENTS
WE ALL END UP IN THIS SAME ROOM FOR A REASON.
After that meal, you definitely have a bone to pick with the chef. Unfortunately, there isn't any staff in this restaurant, not even when you go behind the counter and start exploring the kitchen. It looks like a typical restaurant kitchen, complete with multiple burners, a large walk-in refrigeration unit, and plenty of counter space; there are stacks of plates and bowls and glasses, bins of ingredients, and everything else you can imagine a diner of this magnitude needing. Even though there's no one physically in the kitchen, it still feels, eerily, as though everyone has just stepped outside for a smoke break, or simply haven't arrived yet for their shift.
Is it that, though, or is this diner simply haunted? As you explore, you find yourself feeling paranoid, as though someone might be watching you from behind the counter, under the cabinets, inside the sink basin. No matter where you look, there's no one else there, though: except the other residents of the City who might be unfortunate enough to be with you. As you walk past one of the large ovens, you feel a sudden rush of hot air, like the door is opening to draw you inside; as you move towards the counter for salad prep, you find a knife stuck in the wooden cutting board, and another, that falls from the ceiling right in front of you. If you had only been an inch closer...
Even the refrigeration unit can turn on you. If you find yourself inside of it, seeking out the source of all of those delicious—and not so delicious—hot dogs and burgers, the door might shut behind you, locking you inside. The further you walk inside of it, the longer it seems to get, as though there is simply no end to the shelves of produce and meat; the more you walk, the colder it gets. But don't worry! If you make it out of the large walk-in fridge, you can warm yourself up by the stovetops—which might just catch your clothes on fire!
Out of the kitchen, then, you decide to calm yourself with some tunes. In the corner, similar to the ice cream shop, is a large colorful jukebox, which creaks and groans with some unknown song you've never heard of. There's a small metal tray that juts out of the front of the machine, with a handwritten sign that says PAYMENT on it, written in red ink. You can put all sorts of things here—perhaps a coin from your home world, or a marble from one of the City arcades, a lock of human hair, a bloody tissue... Once the tray has been pushed in, and the jukebox accepts your payment, it will play a new song: something warm and cheery, perhaps something familiar you've been wanting to hear! Of course, this song only plays once—no matter what you do after, you cannot play another song. Everyone deserves a turn, right?
The kitchen will be full of perils that the player can impose upon their character. These perils are not necessarily life-threatening, but they could be if left unattended. Some of our examples include: knives falling from the ceiling, stoves turning up into large flames, being locked in the freezer, etc. Characters can be rescued by any other character, and will find themselves more encouraged to be heroic than usual; they will find themselves valuing the safety of others more than their own, when they're inside the diner kitchen.
There is no penalty for any death that may occur because of mishaps in the diner, unless another character is directly responsible for that death.
The jukebox in the dining part of the diner will only play spooky non-music unless a character inserts something into the payment tray. Please come up with anything you like that could be accepted, though the machine would prefer it to be something the player may not want to part with, or something that isn't necessarily a common form of payment. Characters can pay only once, and hear only one song of their choosing. Afterwards, the jukebox will go back to playing the spooky non-music until another character pays.
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!
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citylogs2024-01-01 08:44 pm
TDM QUESTIONS.
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!
ellie | tlou.
b
hers is an unfamiliar face, and he's learned a few lessons about startling people-- he's in clear view when he comes near, hands kept away from the wooden sword slung around his waist.]
... you good?
[as much as anyone can be. it always feels a little like a dumb question, you know? but it's an opening regardless.]
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I've been better. [She stands, rubbing her face with rough knuckles. There's no use in pretending she didn't cry, but the urge lingers, bound up in her pride.]
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LOCKED IN THE LOCK IN.
It's a good half hour before she staggers back up onto her feet, rinsing her face and mouth one last time at the sink before heading out. She has never had the most vibrant pallor, but at this stage she's so pale it's a wonder she's still alive. The usual grace that guides her steps is lacking, and so too is her natural stealth, but even so, Vanessa can only think of heading into the kitchen to find someone or something responsible to take this out on. Instead, she meets a fist with her face the moment she steps into the kitchen.
It doesn't knock her completely over, but only because the doorframe catches her when she stumbles back, and her hand flys to the side of her face with a gasp.
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Her knuckles hurt pleasingly.
Shame comes slower than Ellie would like, but it does come. This wman is a woman, just that; maybe not unarmed but not intentionally a foe. Ellie takes a step back, mostly to get some distance from her own actions. "Shit," she says, "sorry," then, "fuck."
Ellie puts both hands up, which just leaves the ruin of her off hand more visible. One finger missing entirely, and the pinky next to it half gone. Teeth marks grace the heel. The wounds look fresh, less than a week old.
"I didn't-" mean to? No, that's more of a lie than Ellie can, in this moment of clarify, tolerate. "You spooked me."
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A!
She's popped from one store to wander into the other building when Ellie's outcry calls her attention. "Hey, you good?" She calls out, wandering around, her heels clicking a little against the floor. It's cold, but that doesn't mean Miu's completely forgone her short skirts and heels, though she's added a stylish coat and a scarf with it.
She turns the corner and pauses, eyebrows raised. "Oh. Uhh... You need help?" Ellie certainly looks like she needs help. A lot of it, actually, and most Miu figures she's not qualified to handle. But the first aid lessons from the local doctor has to come in handy at some point.
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"Fine!" Ellie says the word like it was ripped out of her. Like she ripped it out of herself. Slowly, angrily, she pulls her bleeding hand from her armpit so she can pull off her backpack and find some gauze. "Fuck fuck fuck," a whispered mantra.
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a
Allowing for the possibility, however improbable, that whoever is out there means her no harm, Sam holds the blade behind her back as she sets off to follow the sound. She doesn't get close when she does find the source. It's an undeniable relief to come across another person but that could easily turn into regret if Sam isn't careful.
She pokes her head out from behind an empty shelf. "Say fuck one more time, that should do it."
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She knows from experience that people making backchat aren't the type to savagely attack in the next breath. If you're feeling snarky, that's letting off steam. It doesn't mean Ellie's safe, but she's not in the immediate danger of being in someone's sights, potential prey.
So she rolls her eyes. "Oh, fuck off." There isn't much heat behind it. Paranoia can get exhausting fast, and while Ellie's got plenty of capacity for the art, putting the burden down, even for a second, is a welcome respite.
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Is this what the people in charge here meant? Forcing them into showing this sort of pain to each other, forcing them into said pain in the first place. He doesn't like the thought of it, but Daniel knows he can't just abandon a relatively young-looking girl like this by herself, no matter how awkward it is to just walk in on this.
So he moves a little closer - not careful to not be too close, wanting to give her some space in the middle of this.
".. hey," he speaks up, his voice a little on the softer side.
It's fine, though. Her tears are so silent that it's not like he has to make himself audible over some sobbing.
"Did you see a familiar name..?"
wildcard cause Jessica can only go out at night
But she doesn’t want to stink of old blood, so in she goes. Hyper sensitive of her surroundings, Jessica moves slowly and quietly. It doesn’t take long to find the department store and more importantly it doesn’t take long for retail therapy to take hold with all the clothes free for the taking. Despite herself Jessica is enjoying putting on the many dresses. Still, she can’t just shop for dresses alone - Jessica knows a lady’s wardrobe must be well rounded.
When she goes to the outdoorsy section she goes straight into the retail zone - flipping through the many flannel shirts to find one that can fit her. Her predatory (vampiric ) instincts rise up, honing in on her goal. So lost in the hunt she doesn’t see Ellie until there is movement at the corner of her eye. Jessica’s animalistic side takes over immediately and she turns, fangs out, eyes crazed in a way only wild animals can show.
cloud strife / ffvii
same day, different problem.
wildcard.
same day different problem
[on most occasions, the place is not trying to kill them. the other occasions are what he has a carved wooden sword for, but it's still not much defense against a number of knives; he has it held in a defensive position, trying to at least deflect what he can, when he's bumped into and then pulled in what feels like a single, extended motion.
before he knows it, the walk-in door locks with a soft click after closing, and he exhales a slightly shaky breath.]
...if we don't end up with hypothermia before we find it, anyway.
[that's punctuated with a little shiver. he's wearing a sweater beneath his jacket, but it's chilly in here.]
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cloud glances at the other without another word at first, abandoning his knife on one of the shelves as he tries to shoulder at the door. his strength, enhanced by various amounts of mako, only causes it to groan a few times before it remains still. the only other sounds besides their breathing is the steady stream of cool air filtering into the fridge. )
Maybe we can block the vent. ( so that doesn't happen, he means to say. )
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misfired text because i know how important his PANASONIC FOMA P900IV FLIP PHONE FROM 2004 is to him;
[As misfires go, it's certainly a...well. It's certainly something?]
LET HIM LIVE HIS EARLY 2000's LIFE OK
You've got the wrong number. ( oh, and just because: )
Don't be so lazy next time either.
human innovation reached its peak with the flip phone, i support him
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1/2
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yeah lets chase ghosts why not
she's got french toast, some cuts of ham, fruit and some orange juice. it's alright. she's had better. )
Mm?
( halfway through a bite, a face she's never seen before sits in front of her, and she suddenly grows possessive over her plate. squinting at him a little, she chews thoughtfully. )
No? But this sort of thing happens every now and then.
( with her mouth still kind of full of toast.. )
Are you lost?
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she reminds him of some sort of lost summon that no one's ever found. or someone who could very well have been living in the lifestream. maybe that's what this was; maybe he was dead, and this was his mind's way of coping with that fact. )
I'm not lost. ( sort of. anyway, he isn't going to take her plate despite how hungry he feels. ) And what do you mean? This happens every now and then? What happens?
( as he speaks, a plate just appears before him with the same items fearne is eating but a little more appetizing. cloud knows then, immediately, he probably shouldn't touch anything on it. )
chasing ghosts. bugs-in-food cw.
Ellie breathes hard and rough. "Don't touch anything."
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There's a sharp ache in the back of his head, causing him to grind his teeth. He ignores it in favor of attempting a retreat.
"Give me your hand." If he can get a hold on her, maybe they can make a hasty escape back outside.
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Gregory House | House M.D.
( content warning: graphic description of serious leg injury, drug abuse. )
[ There is no reason for House to stop in the middle of the park. Any person can take one glance and spot nothing out of the ordinary. There are trees and benches. Typical park stuff. And he doesn’t want to stop. Yet his leg is hitting a note of pain that is all too familiar. The sharp contractions of what little thigh muscles remain on his left thigh only slow his pace to a full stop.
Thankfully, this isn’t Jumanji. House can at least plop down onto the park bench without fear of a monkey climbing down to eat his feet.
And so he takes a moment to sit back, throw his head back and suck in a harsh, pained breath. His hand drags over to the inside of his jacket pocket to pull out a medicine bottle. ]
You know — [ He thumbs the top open with his thumb. ] It’s rude to stare.
[ Call it a hunch, but he can deduce a pair of eyes staring at his person. Are these eyes judgmental? Sympathetic? Who knows? That’s not what’s important. ]
Unless you’re willing to cough up some cold hard cash. These gams aren’t cheap!
••• Part o2. — We All End Up In This Same Room For a Reason
( content warning: descriptions of rotten food, vomit mention, bodily injuries. )
a. — Out of the Frying Pan…
[ This place blows chunks. But the only one who is blowing chunks is the forty-something-year-old man, hunched over the neatly displayed kielbasas inside the walk-in fridge. The combination of rotten deli meats and maggots is doing a whopper on a stomach (and psyche). He didn’t think it was possible to ween him off of his precious rueben sandwich, but now…? We’re looking at least a month before his lips touch rye bread.
Once House gathers what little of composure he has left, he snatches a lettuce leaf from off the produce shelf to wipe his mouth. With no one to be crabby over his cursed lunch, he makes a beeline for the door and pushes the door open…
It doesn’t budge. When he tries to jiggle the door handle, it won’t move an inch. He can’t get out. ]
Hey! [ He yells, pounding at the frigid metal door. ] Hey! Anyone out there?!
b. — …Into the Fire.
[ The Tale of the Cursed Diner is nearly at an end. All House can do is stand there in front of the jukebox in all of its audacity. He stares down at the payment note for a beat before rummaging into his pocket to toss in a rusted penny. ]
I usually tip handsomely after someone murders me with a KitchenAid. Try again next time.
[ His tone of sarcasm is as thick as the rotten sandwich he choked down.
And without missing a beat, the jukebox plays out a song. All House can do is exhale as he sinks to the floor, legs splayed and back leaning against the machine.
The Diagnostician is in it for the long haul. ]
••• WILDCARD — Pick Your Poison.
[ Tag-in with a new prompt! I’m down for any way you wish our characters to crash into each other. Shoot me a DM if you have questions! ]
01.
[If modern medicine still existed, it would be obvious she's showing the early warning signs of an incumbent panic attack.]
[Deerlike (as in, those in headlights, another reference Ellie doesn't understand), she takes a step back from this man and his fake injury. Her back hits the rough mossy hide of a tree. She forgets to breathe.] F-fuck you.
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1
Seems like the other has made the choice for him. ]
Sorry. No money anywhere here in town.
[ It makes him figure the other is probably new. Or maybe just making a joke.
.. or both of the above. Honestly, going by House's tone, it could be both. ]
I just wanted to know if you're alright. [ Obviously not, given the other's pained breaths, but judging by Daniel's tone he seems to mean more if there's anything I could do for you than anything else with that statement. ]
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Jessica Hamby | True Blood
lost your balance on a tightrope
"You are going to be so sorry when I get an eatin' disorder!"
Those were the last words Jessica spoke in a childish fury, denied again to eat properly by Bill. She stood behind the door waiting for the satisfying slam which never came. A blink and she’s sitting on a subway train. She’s still in her blood-orange dress and red shoes, and in her hand is a cell phone. It looked one similar to the one she stole from the limo driver. She hesitated in doing this orientation but what the hell.
After completing it she got off the train and explored the City Hall station. She looked through the various stores, calling out the same names over and over again. “Sookie? Bill!” She checked her phone and saw none of any familiar names.
With no response after several frustrating minutes, Jessica had to face the fact they aren’t here. It didn’t take long for her to realize it was daytime - her body felt like it was getting the crud and worse, her eyes and ears started to bleed out. Gross. She had to find a room to sleep away the day. The stores were filled with food and other things, but no workers. Restaurants were equally empty. Ducking her head to avoid anyone seeing her bloody face, Jessica fled to an empty restaurant and went into bathroom to clean up her face.
these days I haven’t been sleeping
Figuring that it would be stupid for her to talk to anyone while she’s like this - weakening and hungry - maybe she should get into a manager’s office and stay there until it’s dark.
Certain no one had followed her, she slipped out to the bathroom and found an office next to the kitchen. Not noticing the lack of paperwork in the office, Jessica sat down on the floor behind the desk and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.
Although should someone enter the office as she slept, they would find not a sleeping girl but a corpse, pale and still.
AFTER DARK (tw; blood, hunger, spoiled food, blood vomiting, real nasty vampire eating stuff)
in a big city, they just dropped me off
The moment the sun died Jessica was quick to leave the subway station. There are people around but for once she was feeling too skittish to really want to reach out. The emptiness of the city spooked her, like she’s trapped in a ghost town. It reminds her of the time she was kidnapped by vampires to be turned, even though it’s completely unrelated.
The stores in the subway station didn’t have Tru Blood, so Jessica went to a grocery store to find some. Granted she wasn’t expecting any but here they are in the refrigerated food aisle - except it wasn’t in bottles but in blood bags. Some were labeled as “cow” or “horse” or “dog”, but others labeled “synthetic”. It seriously threw her off and made her realized just how weird this entire city is. It made her wonder if there’s a store that can give human blood in blood bags.
Figuring that’s something she can work out another time, she grabbed the bags with synthetic blood. It’ll taste as shitty as TruBlood but it’s something. After dumping the fifth bag into her shopping cart she realized she’s being watched. She looked up and saw someone. “What are you staring at?” Jessica barked before grabbing her shopping cart for a quick getaway.
something gone terribly wrong
With her plastic bags of synthetic blood swinging in her pale fists, Jessica is now looking for a place to warm the blood. It’s there she saw the diner and figured it will be like the restaurant she used previously: empty and available for use. Maybe there will be a microwave to use.
She should have known something was wrong when she entered the diner. It was larger on the inside, and it seemed more spooky than the other places. And there, on one of the tables, was a cheeseburger with fries and a shake. Jessica had a terrible, terrible urge to eat it. It’s worst her own bloodlust - and she knew something was wretched. She can’t eat human food. She can’t -
Jessica Hamby sat down on the chair and started to eat the cheeseburger. Oh, it reminded her of her childhood, of the few happy memories of when she wasn’t bossed and beaten by her dickhead of a father. But her stomach roiled but she can’t stop, won’t stop and when she finished off her meal she ordered another.
The shopping bags fell off her side and the blood bags scattered on the floor. The soft sound of the bags flopping over broke her over her trance. She looked down at her new meal and her stomach roiled unpleasantly as she see a little mold on the bun and the half frozen tries. She tried to reach over for her synthetic blood but she’s frozen.
but now I’ll go sit on the floor
Jessica fled the diner after she was able to eat the rotten meals and break free, but not without vomiting copious amounts of her own blood. With her dress stained a dark red and her face covered in vomited blood. She grabbed her synthetic blood bags before leaving, desperate to find any shelter. She went to the closest apartment building and randomly picked a room figuring it would be empty as the rest of this godddamn city.
She was horribly wrong. She didn’t realize she couldn’t enter the apartment until she banged her head hard against the door. Blood loss and hysteria led her to collapse on the floor. Realizing the door was either locked or already occupied and lacked the invitation to go in, she couldn’t help herself but loudly sobbing at the unfair situation she was in. This was the worst night she ever had, worst than the night of her turning.
She wept hard as tears flow over her cheeks, making her face completely covered in blood. Once again, she gathered her blood bags as they fell out of the brown paper bag she placed them in.
WILDCARD
[ Just a wildcard option ;) Just remember your character have to be out at night as Jessica can’t walk in the daylight! ]