March 2019 Test Drive Meme

[sodder]

MARCH 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to March’s Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: IRISH FOLKLORE.

All Test Drive Memes contain at least one clue to the Deerington's upcoming in-game events for the month! Keep your eyes peeled! But...not literally.

Characters may die during TDMs, but you do not need to count it towards a game-canonical death unless you want to. Consider it a freebie. All TDMs can be considered game canon as TDMs introduce minor aspects about the world of Deerington that can be revisited by characters later on in the game. You may also use TDMs for your application writing sample as well as AC.

CW: Demons, ghosts, bleeding from the face

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

KISS ME I'M IRISH

Did you know that Penobscot County has the highest Irish population in Maine? 38% of residents identify as Irish and they will not let you forget it. Deerington is apparently ready to embrace that, setting up a St. Patrick's Day block party for everyone to participate in! There's plenty of traditional Irish foods being serves, such as a hearty Irish stew with a side of delicious brown bread, bacon and cabbage, colcannon (easily the most delicious mash you'll ever have), and honey roasted ham! And, of course, there's plenty of drinks (both adult and child friendly) to wash it all down with! Help yourself to a pint, it's on the house!

And don't worry, it won't do anything funny to you this time.

If you're not interested in the food, though, there's still a kissing booth that's ready to go! But it looks like someone is missing from the seat. Whoever wanders too close to the booth, whether on purpose or accidental, they will find themselves drawn to it, and if they linger too long, they might even take a seat. How kind of you! If the seats already filled, you'll find yourself inclined to pucker up, even if it's not someone you'd normally give a smooch to. It's a holiday! Maybe you're just in the spirit. Each kiss is 1 credit and all donations go towards helping the hospital get up and running properly again, because let's be honest - it really needs all the help it can get.

People may also notice that the Bettys are around and are trying particularly hard to get people to wear something green. If they don't see them already donning it, they will start to offer them green flower crowns, green and gold pins (with real gold! Bite it if you don't believe us!), green body paint, green anything they can get you to wear, and they'll be particularly pushy about it for some reason. You can ignore them, of course, and eventually they'll walk off to try and talk someone else into taking their gifts.

If you are wearing green, then you're in luck! Everything will go just smoothly for you.

But if you chose not to, there's a bit of trouble to be had. The party might go normally, but shortly after, things start to get a little strange. You start to feel like you're being followed - hunted, even. You can't see them, but eventually you'll hear them, and that's almost worse. The sounds of tortured groans, screams of agony, and they seem to be getting closer. You'll start to feel invisible hands on you, grasping onto you with what feels like inhuman strength, and the very air will start to be sucked from your lungs. The closer you get to death, the more the creatures begin to materialize - rotting, skeletal figures with yellow eyes and faces that look like they belong to demons. The Sluagh are known for going after sinners most frequently, but sometimes, they'll simply take what they can get - and that seems to be you.

If you're lucky, someone who is wearing green will find you, and they'll be able to not only see what's attacking you but help you fight them off. The Sluagh seem to be weak to anyone who is proudly portraying the color favored by the Celtic gods, the connection to nature their undoing. Hit 'em with a tree branch and watch them scurry off.

TO WEEP, TO WAIL

For those who are walking home after the sun is down, whether drunkenly from the party or from the obligations of work or school, there will start to be strange sounds coming from the emptier portions of town - weeping from the graveyard, sniffling down alleys, or anguished wails from the fields out by the run down farm houses in Clark Acres. They echo through the otherwise strangely quiet streets of Deerington, but rather than feeling like you should run, a strange power pulls you forward.

Each sound eventually materializes into a woman; what form she takes can vary, though. The ghostly image of a pained, beautiful young woman who calls for her lost lover, or a cloaked, monstrous looking figure that bleeds from its eyes and screams over love betrayed, or perhaps that of a motherly figure, wailing for her children.

Regardless of how she may look, the result of getting closer can go one of two ways; if you approach her cautiously but with good intent, the woman will not attack you. Perhaps all she wants is a shoulder to cry on or a sympathetic ear to hear her tale. Those who are kind and don’t spook her will be rewarded with a small, polished piece of sandstone, a perfect size to fit in the palm of your hand. A small thanks before she disappears. Whenever you hold or rub the stone, you’ll be given a feeling of peace and any anxieties or troubles you may be having will temporarily ease.

Those who approach with ill intent or who approach too quickly will find that the banshee is quick to become aggressive. Her screams will raise to such a pitch that your head will feel like its splitting open and blood will begin to trickle from your ears, eyes, and nose. It will feel like the pressure is caving your body in on itself. The only means of defeating the banshee is touching her with gold. Whether it’s a ring, a necklace, or even the gold lining of one of the pins the Bettys gave at the party, the moment that the gold touches the banshee, she will disappear in a puff of smoke. If you don’t have any gold, you’d better hope you can outrun her - otherwise, it’s not too long before you really will be crushed from the inside out, and there’s no real coming back from there.

Character Arrival

You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.

There is not a collective "all these characters showed up at the exact same moment" occurrence in Deerington. Since characters fall asleep, die, or pass out at various times throughout all their worlds, it wouldn't make too much sense if they arrived in game all at the exact same time. There should be some discrepancy between character arrival, whether by a couple minutes, hours, or even days up to a week.

The players are entirely in control of how/when they want to play their characters arriving in Deerington. For TDMs, you can play it like your character has just arrived and that can be maintained as your game canon, or you can wait until game events for that moment. Or you don't need to acknowledge it at all. The flexibility for character allows a bit more of an organic feel to the character arrival situation, so please play it to whatever feels right for you.

If you are interested in having an "arrival" introduction for one of your TDM prompts, you are more than welcome to explore that option.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[sodder]

[mightdoriya]

Im so sorry but I have to ask because it's too funny not to

does having green hair count as wearing green

Yuu Kashima | Gekkan Shojo Nozaki-kun

[thesbian]

a) Gimme a Kyuss
[ Let's face it. Without a swam of fangirls doting on Kashima at every corner, and without the ability to give affections to said doting fangirls, well... things have been a bit lonely. The prospect of an empty kissing booth is, honestly, pretty tempting even without some mysterious force drawing people into it. So, eyes dodging left and right, Kashima slips into the booth and takes the seat with pride, grinning with excitement since honestly, these things are kind of fun! And she could use a little fun in her life..... Plus, helping out the hospital is kind of cool, right?

As you pass by, whether you did your best to ignore whatever princely stranger is sitting at the booth or approach willfully, Kashima is determined, and will, if necessary, half leap out of the booth to shout- or just speak normally: ] Heeeyyy! You want to donate a dollar to charity and get a kiss????

B) Wailing, wandering
[ Still new to the town, Kashima is lost, now only more lost as the strange echos have chased the poor thing into the woods, and the poor thing is cowering behind a tree, peeking out at any stranger.

You, yes, you there. You seem friendly, making your way wherever you are going at such a late hour. Or maybe you seem just tough enough that ghosts will leave you alone!!! Hauntingly, frightened, a voice comes from behind the tree, peering out from behind it with a grim expression. ]

H- .... Hey......... C-can I walk with you?

[ ooc; PM or yogsothoth if you have questions or wanna plot a thing. ]

B!

[princessences]

[ How convenient, as Allura now lives in an area of town that isn't at all far from the park. You know, trees. Lots of trees! Perfect hiding places. And she's also very, very used to the sort of horrifying antics that take place. Caution can be exercised as well as one can, but never fully anticipated.

Ghosts...are definitely not the worst thing that she's encountered here. And she's tired.

Though she is not expecting a voice to come out of seemingly no where. Allura jumps slightly and whirls around, ready to face whatever--

Oh.

It's...just a person. (Probably.) A very scared person, apparently. Allura sighs, relaxing. ]

Yes, of course. Are you...lost?

Lucifer Morningstar | Lucifer (tv)

[morningstud]

Arrival
To say that waking up in a strange place, especially after certain intimate phone calls and being hit in the back of the head, doesn't disturb Lucifer is a complete understatement. He's disturbed, all right. Usually flitting from place to place is done with intention, not... seemingly just happening. Doubly so the whole dream thing; he can dream, all right, though not quite about things like this.

Right. Time to pretend he's done this on purpose, ended up... wherever this is. Some sort of collective unconscious beyond what he's already familiar with.

It's why he's approaching people at random, asking, "Hello there. You wouldn't happen to have any salve, would you? I've got a nasty burn on my back."

Kiss me, I'm Irish
If there's one thing Lucifer loves, it's a party. An excuse to dress up, even more so than usual? He's here for that. That's why he'll be seen around town in the most godawful suit imaginable.

Anyone who also happens to be wearing green will get him cheerfully approaching with a, "Enjoying the festivities? I love human superstitions! Can't get enough of them."

Anyone who isn't dressed in green will also be cheerfully approached, only this time with a, "I'm surprised you're not dressed up. Those women around here are very persuasive, don't you think?"

To Weep, to Wail
Walking home late at night from a club isn't a rarity for him. Well, it's rare that the party isn't happening in his own home, but he can't exactly miss Lux right now. He'll make a note of trying to build something a little like Lux later on, right now, there are other things to focus on. The soft sounds of crying, for one. It's enough to make him pause, taking a couple of cautious steps towards the noise.

"Hello? Are you all right?"

He can't see anybody, but just the same...

kiss me i'm irish

[4thwaller]

Conserving the magical healing chocolates from February was the name of the game, so Wade had left the house in his suit and all his errands had been put on pause when Darlene had started talking to him about how he'd needed to wear green. Then the flowercrown had been offered up and Wade had forgotten completely why he'd left the house in the first place. Give him an hour, he'll get back on topic... probably.

He doesn't expect for someone dressed almost as badly as him to start talking to him like they're already buddies. To be fair, no one's a stranger to Wade, so it doesn't bother him in the slightest. Maybe the guy was just curious about the big red body condom and the green flower crown. Either way, he lets out a snort of a laugh from behind his mask.

"I'm sure you're gonna stop loving them whenever the other shoe drops," Wade remarks a bit dryly. "Nice suit," says one weirdly dressed guy to another.

ALL MIGHT / BNHA

[brokenpeace]

i.

[A kissing booth is usually.. not something Toshinori would be interested in. If it weren't for that sign mentioning the credit going towards a new hospital, he wouldn't have approached at all. Of course he just planned on donating what he could without the trouble of making someone kiss him for it but that was before he realized there wasn't anyone actually manning the station. He waited around for fifteen minutes before making a decision-- one that didn't even need prompting from any outer force-- and takes a seat at the kissing booth counter himself. If it's to help build a hospital, he doesn't mind doing things even like this. Heroes help those in any way they can, even if sometimes.. it can lead to some very uh. Interesting. Situations.


(ooc note: anyone under the age of 18 will get their head pat rather than a kiss and maybe also will get bad life advice for free)]

ii.

[You're not wearing green and you're on the brink of death. The suffocating feeling of something around your throat, the sight of your vision starting to close in with those skeleton's looking at you with their bright yellow eyes. "This is it", you think. "This must be the end..."


...but it is not the end.

For, before you're able to lose consciousness, a fist suddenly drives right into the being that had been trying so hard to kill you in the first place.]

Do not worry, young citizen...

[A low, reassuring voice rings out and when you look up, you see him. A man that looks.. well. Kind of like a skeleton himself. Long blonde hair framing his face and black eyes with bright blue irises shining through. He's completely covered in green-- a flower crown, three boas, four rings, some bracelets.. he couldn't say no when he was offered, so now he's got more than what he knows what to do with and even though he looks weak enough to fall over in the wind, he smiles with the confidence of a man who has fought in many, many battles.]

For I am here!

iii.

[Toshinori was a Hero. Was, having retired recently but all the same, he can't say no to a person in need. Whether it be a child looking for their lost mother, a kitten stuck in a tree, or the ghost-like form of a woman, sobbing and wishing her dearly beloved would return to her. At first, when Toshinori stumbles upon her he was on guard, expecting her to be another one of those things that had been trying to kill people before. But she didn't seem.. malicious. She was weeping quite a bit and the sight of a woman crying tugged at the old man's heartstrings, even if she was plainly not corporeal. Maybe it was a Quirk? Or maybe it was someone who just looked like that to begin with. Either way, he approached her softly and carefully, walking with quiet footsteps to not startle her too badly.

"What seems to be the matter, young miss?"

That's what started the conversation, and he sat next to her on a grave as she told him of her woes. Their conversation lasted longer than he could have imagined and she thanked him when it was over, placing a stone in his hand that encompassed him immediately with warmth and comfort. He holds it in his palm and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as memories of his passed mentor fill his mind. It's probably quite the sight, this man who looks as though he could be dead himself sitting in the middle of a graveyard.. the moon casts a nice glow as well, really setting the mood.

He won't mind if you'd like to join him for a little while. He'll even share the comfort of that stone, if you look particularly weary or in need of it.]

III

[diamondize]

[Normally, Diamond tends not to wander out at night. The lack of sunlight makes them instantly sleepy, but there's been a sense of restlessness coming over them that made sleep difficult.

So, wandering! They don't encounter any ghostly spectres this night, mostly because Toshi totally got to her first, but they do pick up the sounds of talking and peek around in time to see the woman vanishing and Toshi sitting around there like that.

With no thought to if it might be strange to suddenly approach and speak to a stranger out of nowhere like this, Diamond wanders up. The moonlight reflects oddly off their hair, making it sparkles and shine even in the dark.]

Who was that?

[variantcover]

Kiss me I'm at a party

OK, Gwen doesn't really know what to make of this strange place. But she's not one to turn down a party, so there she is! Dressed in an appropriately green t-shirt under a pink hoodie, with a dainty little flower crown to boot, she's ready to go! She'll be strolling along, avoiding the beer by trying all the food (she's a growing girl and growing girls get hungry). She might even get suckered into sitting at the kissing booth. It's a good thing she has chapstick in her backpack, because she's gonna need it!

"Alright, step right up! Smooches for a good cause! Kiss me I'm... Well, English-American, technically, but isn't everybody Irish around this time of year?" Never mind the fact that it was definitely not this time of year a day ago back on Earth-616.

The one who wails

[ On her walk home, Gwen is struck by the appearance of some strange wailing noises. This sounds like something worth investigating. More importantly, this sounds like something worth investigating in costume. She dons her Gwenpool garb, draws her gun, and seeks out the source of the noise. So, just to recap: she's approaching with good intentions, mostly. But she is also wearing a mask and carrying a weapon. Who wants to join in and see how this will go? ]

Network: video; un: nopantskilla

[ Gwen needs to figure out more about this place, and about the people who are here. So, she decides to try asking a question on a public forum. ]

Yo, Deerington-ites! Gwen Poole here. I've got a question: Is there anyone else here who has some experience traveling to different universes, who can tell me if that's really what's going down here? Because the last time something like this happened to me, it was on purpose, not some weird sort of dream-hallucination.

Also, does anyone know where I can get some swords? Asking for a friend.

Peace! [ She flashes a peace sign and cuts the feed. ]

[ ooc: will match prose or brackets. hmu @ objectpermanence for other ideas or plotting! ]

UN: HighKing

[spectacularlyhighking]

((ooc: I LOVE YOU FOR PLAYING GWENPOOL))

Deerington-ites? Please don't make that a thing, for the love of whatever deity you choose. My experience is more with different worlds than universes, but I suppose that might be close enough. As far as I can tell this is, indeed, some sort of dream-state. But it's no magic I've ever seen before.

As far as the swords? If you didn't come here with any I have no idea.

yasha | critical role

[orphanmaker]

( I'm still catching up on 2x52 so pls no spoilers and feel free to pm me if you have any questions etc )

KISS ME, I'M IRISH

It could be that she's tall and has a five-foot long greatsword strapped to her back, or it could be that she is made up of shades of black, white and grey in a sea of so much vibrant green, but Yasha feels more out of place than usual. There are things here she has never seen before, and though humans certainly make up the bulk of many towns she has wandered through, to see no tieflings or half-elves or any of the other peoples from home here is odd.

A stronger word than odd would suit, probably. Words aren't really her thing, though, and she's torn between wariness and worry and the part of her that's delighted by the brightness and colour. A pot of something green and waxy is thrust at her, and she murmurs a quiet thank you as she dips her fingers in and slowly drags it over the black line that runs from her lip to her chin. She can't see herself in the mirror, but she's pretty sure she's now appropriately festive, even if it's not to a standard Jester might approve of.

Eventually she finds her way to the food, watching carefully for any tell tale flashes of colour that might signify any of the others were in this crowd, but there's nothing. At least there's a chance for nourishment, though she eyes it a little cautiously.

"Have you... seen any rats?"


ROLLS TO ATTACK A MOTORBIKE.

This is strange. Caleb, maybe, would know what it is. He has magics and spells and is as clever as he is awkward. It is not like anything she has seen before, and Yasha circles the motorbike a third time as she tilts her head curiously. It shines, and there are so many different things lined along these roads. Even the material of the roads is different, and she crouches down to inspect a puddle under the thing, dipping her fingers into it and sniffing at it. Like oil, by texture, but probably the worst smelling oil she's encountered in a long while.

Whatever it is doesn't seem very stable, either. Standing, she sets one foot against it and shoves; the motorcycle topples and then crashes down onto its side.

"I don't like this," she murmurs, though admittedly it's about her circumstnaces generally moreso than the weird construct she just tipped over. It must have been defeated before she arrived, because even now it doesn't stir.



WILDCARD.

what did that motorbike ever do to you

[variantcover]

Welp. That sure is a Xena Warrior Princess looking somebody kicking over a motorcycle. Gwen thinks it's probably best if she intervenes.

"Uhhh... Hey now. No need to go tipping vehicles over. Everything alright here?"

Lucina | Fire Emblem: Awakening

[challengesfate]

[A: Kiss Me, I'm Irish]

[There's still a fair amount of Deerington that Lucina has trouble grasping, but a large party out-of-doors like this? Not hard to understand at all. The fare is simple yet hearty, something she is appreciative of, and while she keeps very, very far away from the kissing booth (why you would randomly kiss a stranger is beyond her), that doesn't save her from the Bettys and their gifts of greenery.

Seriously. Lucina has a lot of blue going on in general with her hair, it's no surprise that, even if she hesitantly accepted the first Betty's pin, more would still come over to her and insist she wear a few more things. It's...getting really awkward, honestly. Not to mention that those masks are creepy.

Oh, and would you look at that? You don't seem to be wearing any green, and the Bettys haven't come at you yet. (Hopefully the Sluagh haven't, either.) Lucina comes over and gently removes one of the flower crowns that had been plopped onto her head, or a string of green beads, and offers it to you.]

Excuse me? I've been told repeatedly that at this sort of celebration, we're to wear green. Would you like some? I have...a bit too much.

[She just wants to share, and maybe. Keep you safe from the scary masked women.]

[B: To Weep, To Wail]

[The graveyard in this town is a sad and dismal place. Not just because it's where the dead are left, but the sheer state it lays in...Lucina can't help but ache for it. It's why she comes here often, trying in her own small way to clean up the graves in as an unobtrusive way as possible. After all, it's what she would want for her parents, if their resting places were left this way.

It's not much of a surprise for her to hear such wailing there, though the sound is...almost otherworldly. When she finds the ghostly woman practically prostrate before a set of small, crooked headstones, a chill runs through her body, but she doesn't run.

This kind of scene is too familiar for her to fear it.]

Madam...excuse me, but...do you need some help?

[Her approach is as gentle as possible, though Lucina has no idea what she could be dealing with, and soon she finds herself sitting by the little headstones while the woman weeps on her shoulder, words unintelligable through the tears yet holding a grief Lucina understood all too well. Perhaps you see her attempt to put an arm around the woman from afar, or perhaps the woman disappears once you catch sight of Lucina, staring at the empty air in puzzlement, a small stone now resting in her palm. It's. Kind of a bizarre experience, to be honest.]

A

[totalclarity]

Oh? And I've not a scrap of green on me. [It's not really his color, and hardly Lucian to boot. Ignis holds out his hand to accept whatever is being offered. Sounds like plastic? Like a beaded necklace, perhaps.] Far be it for me not to look the part, and if having too much is an issue, I'll gladly take some off your hands.

minsu oh | original

[foxtrots]

kiss me, i'm irish (for today, anyway)

Are you gonna finish that?

[a question you might find yourself being asked, because the minsu thinks that the "five-second rule" is about the time between bites. there is really only one thing that matters to him: the food. and minsu likes the food here, all the meat and potatoes and bread, hearty food that's heavy in his stomach. even when he's finished eating, he makes himself a sandwich for the road - bread and bacon and ham and bacon and maybe just a little more bacon to finish it off.

his cheeks are bulging with a mouthful of it as he approaches the kissing booth. minsu looks at the booth itself, then the empty seat.

and then he plants himself in it. he does stop chewing to pucker his lips at anyone passing by. that's how you do it, right.]

to weep, to wail

[minsu's not afraid of the dark. fortunately, he's not afraid of ghostly, ghastly women either. he's more worried than anything, careful with his approach and crouching down in front of her.]

Ah...

[but he's not sure what to do next. just watching her is enough to give him the sniffles and make him blink quickly against his own tears. minsu looks around for help, someone else who will hopefully approach as carefully as he did and get her to stop crying.

and then maybe give minsu a hug too. it's been a long day.]

weepin' and wailin'

[variantcover]

[ Gwen hears sniffling and crying, and the Big Dumb Hero in her can't help but want to investigate. She strays from the sidewalk to find a creepy looking woman sobbing, with a guy crouched in front of her looking miserable as well. ]

Uh... Pity party of two? Everything okay over here?

grant ward | agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.

[operation]

Block Party

[ Grant Ward had always suspected that death wouldn't be the end of everything; that it wouldn't bring him peace. Coulson had crushed the life out of him and he had hoped -- thought that would be it, but nope. He's here now. Here in this weird little town, in this messed up little world. How long has it been since his arrival? A few hours? A day now? Or two? Maybe three...

Keeping track of time just seems a heck of a lot unnecessary after all that's happened.

A stranger offers him a bottle of beer and Ward takes it with a smile and a nod in thanks before continuing down the street. Like everyone else here, he's simply checking out the festivities. It all feels pretty damned surreal, but this town, this place -- it doesn't seem all that bad.

He might get something to eat. Or wander a little too close to the kissing booth. Or get a green pin affixed to his jacket. Or lose that damned pin and be a prime target for the Sluagh.

Just about anything can happen really. ]

[morethan084]

[These parties are never just parties, there's always a catch. Last month had just been a reminder that, even if something seemed safe, it wasn't. She's still dealing with slight bruising around her neck, but it's easy to cover up this time of the year. The bruised ribs were no joke either, but Skye couldn't sit still long enough. There was always something going around here, and Skye never did well just stewing in her own thoughts.

This time, she doesn't eat anything that is put out, nor does she let the Bettys put anything on her. She was already wearing a deep green scarf anyway. Despite being out here, Skye is still in her own head. Well, until she spotted someone she never expected to see again. At first, her eyes drifted past him, because of the facial hair, but then she does a double take and...]

Ward?!

[She's not sure what emotion is winning out here, relief or concern. Either way, she's hurrying over to where he was and doesn't think twice about wrapping her arms around him. Sorry if you're holding something, Ward. Standing on her tiptoes, Skye buries her face into his neck.]

You're actually here.

[She's still unsure if that's a good thing or not. Right now it seems like relief is winning out though as she's on the verge of crying because of it.]

Sora | Kingdom Hearts

[oathkeeper]

[A]

[It’s not that Sora didn’t want to wear any green to the party it’s just that Sora is a little late getting there and is making his way to the party right now. He’s been getting lost quite frequently in this new place with streets and places he doesn’t know. He hasn’t had a chance to get to the party in a timely manner and because of that he finds himself wandering about without a spot of green on his person.

Sora looks over his shoulder for what feels like the tenth time because he swears he can feel someone watching him. Or following him? And it’s creepy how the wind howls just enough that it makes it sound like something’s growling.]

Talk about a step up from Halloween Town… Where is this place?

[He hurries down the street and turns the corner but as soon as he does Sora feels a hand grip his arm and he’s suddenly yanked backwards. He yells and starts to flail his arms and fight against whatever it is.]

Hey--!! Let Go! What's going on-?!

[But suddenly he feels his lungs sapped of breath and Sora inhales awkwardly as that grasp starts to drain him of air. He struggles… Help! He might need a hand here!]

[B]

[Sora has seen his fair share of spooky things in his lifetime so he doesn’t feel that particularly afraid of ghosts. Sure, he feels a little unease in his stomach and he’s not quite sure how he should approach the ghost of the lady swaying before him but he’s certainly going to try.]

Uhh… Are you alright? It’s pretty lonely out here, maybe you’re lost?

[Making friends with ghosts that look like they could kill you seems like a great idea. But ghosts are spirits that used to be people and maybe she just needs to talk to someone who will listen.]

A

[tinygreen]

[Sorry, Slaugh, the tiniest paladin happens to be wearing the dreaded color. Bayard in hand, Pidge slashes at the creature to make it let go of the boy.]

Back off, thing!

[She doesn't know what it is. Not an alien, for sure. Looking back at the other brunette, she frowns.] Can you stand? The monsters here tend to need more than one person to take them out.

Agent Phil Coulson | MCU/Agents of SHIELD | block party

[loveslola]

[Tahiti. This time for real.
The last time Coulson closed his eyes he was sure that was it, that it was his time to rest and he could simply stop.

.. really he should know better.
This is now the.. what? third, fourth time around? But after life in SHIELD, the Avengers Initiative, Loki and everything that had passed after, his definition of weird is growing relatively broad.

So he peruses the block party, no longer in his usual suit but he's wearing a green shirt beneath his jacket and has a beer in hand as he wanders. Time to read the terrain and take in the sights as well as the locals because wherever he is? It's hell and gone from home.]

[morethan084]

[Skye is wary of party going on, considering the last time she went to a holiday-themed event it ended badly for her. Still, she turns up anyway. This time not making the mistake of eating or drinking anything offered, even though it seems that so far, no one is acting out.

She's hovering near one of the food booths, studying others to see if there's any reaction to what they're eating. Maybe it's a little much on her part, but now that she's seen just how bad things can get, she doesn't want to be in that position again. Skye has learned to expect the unexpected, but when someone else comes to the front of the line to order, well...]

Coulson?

[Skye has been worrying about the team for months, ever since she arrived here. And now she can't help but feel like this is some sort of prank, or hallucination.]

Newt Scamander | Harry Potter

[newtralize]

[Newt really wasn't much of a partygoer, although he did quite like the spread of food and drink that they had. He wasn't Irish by any means, but it was something of familiarity. Not English, but not foreign to him in the least.

He should have just stuck around the party and had food and be merry though.

At first, the kissing booth may seem empty. Is someone actually sitting in the chair? Approaching it will confirm that, yes, someone is definitely sitting in the chair. He's hunched over and looking like he's trying to make himself disappear though.

That is (1) Magizoologist who rather be anywhere than where he currently is. Which is sitting in a kissing booth to get kissed. He's not Irish, but his appearance kind of fits the part. Reddish brown mess of hair and he's changed the color of his coat to be green to match the festivities. At the very least, he could certainly tell you a lot about leprechauns.

Give the guy a kiss. It's going to a good cause!] H-Hullo...

[spectacularlyhighking]

[A party is a good enough reason to finally leave his house. He's still got some healing to do (mostly that spiderweb of lines across a good portion of his body) but he's feeling more himself.

He was walking around, taking in the sights when he realizes that he recognizes that mop of hair. Curious, Eliot strolls over, an eyebrow raised.]

Hello, yourself.

Ignis Scientia | Final Fantasy XV

[totalclarity]

[A]
Oh, ah, why yes, certainly. [Ignis awkwardly bows his head so that the Bettys can bestow upon him a green flower crown. He hasn't got a single bit of green on him otherwise, but, like...how was he supposed to know? He can't see all the green.

That's because tall dark and pointy-haired has a walking cane and what appear to be sunglasses over eyes that, even with the glasses, seem to bear some gnarly scarring. He's blind as dicks. But he'll not turn down someone's hospitality at a party.] Thank you very kindly. [His fingers run daintily over the crown.] I shall have to get into the holiday spirit.

[It's the food part that interests him most. While he hasn't yet retained his full set of skills, still working on it in his state, he can still help out. Taste test, or do some serving, or even the barest bit of cooking if it needs done. If it's odd to see a blind man seasoning the meat, wait until you see him effortlessly chop up vegetables with a blade without hesitation. No matter what it is he helps with, he does insist on helping, even for a short time.

He certainly has a few questions, though.] I am to take it this Saint Patrick is an important figure in the area, but why? Did he found this Ireland?

[B]
[He hears the weeping woman before most ever could. The streets are not yet familiar to him, the memorization slow, but he picks up his pace nevertheless. An echo like a more enclosed space, and his fingers find the corner of a building--an alley, then. He stands at the entrance, hands folded over the head of his cane. What would Noct do?

He'd help, of course.]

Miss? Are you quite all right?

[He can do little else but be cautious. First for his own sake, not knowing what there might be to trip over save for what he feels with his cane, and because he's had too many surprises for one lifetime and doesn't want to have to fight off anything nasty. Banshees do not, specifically, exist in Eos, but similar enough beings and creatures do.]

I'm not going to hurt you. I'd like to help, if I can.

[It means his encounter goes well, and it means you can find him later puzzling over the stone. Is it a charm? Has it some magical property? He certainly feels calmer just by its weight and warmth, at least...]

A

[tinygreen]

[It is very impressive to see a blind man cook. Pidge is in awe to say the least, and doesn't mind answering questions as she watches this obvious pro.]

Nope. Saint Patrick was a Catholic priest if I remember correctly. He chased all the snakes out of Ireland or something, which I find hard to believe since I don't know if Ireland ever had snakes. Legends can be a bit weird about what person did what as the story gets passed along to different generations. He's also credited with making shamrocks popular since they have three leaves which can present the holy trinity. I'm not very religious myself, but there's just some things you get taught as a kid.

demyan reyes | original character

[tasteofink]

warnings: body horror, vomit, gore. all prompts.

i. kissing booth.

( Demyan leaves the place laughing, mouth dripping a thick, black ichor; the laugh rolls into a groan. He clutches at his sides, glancing over to the nearest person. )

You want some too ... ?

ii. to weep, to wail.

( The compassionate side of Demyan, that true and deep part of him, bleeds out from underneath all the rest. He sees the banshee; his eyebrows knit upwards, face and countenance betraying that pity and concern.

He draws closer, murmuring, hand reached out. )

Oh, you poor thing ...

( He hears her out; the thing is, however, that after the tale is told and the small stone is won, he looks worse for wear ... to say the least.

He's missing a couple teeth, there's a cut to his temple, his lip is split and arm is broken ... It's par the course for him, but anyone looking upon him here wouldn't know that ... )

i

[totalclarity]

[If only he knew. If only Ignis knew the state of the man, face dripping with black pitch, flashed to him like a private joke. A one-sided joke, as he couldn't see the man's daemonic face then as he can't now.

All he knows now is that there's something wrong with this man. He frowns deeply.]

I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate.

Castiel | Supernatural

[heraldingangel]

i. the slaugh

[ The day draws to a close and he can feel their approach. It's not demons, but something else, something just as sinister. They follow him through the streets, inching closer the more the light makes way for the night. It's after dark when finally has a good sense of them - the old gods - and Castiel stands below a street light ready to face them down.

They come from above and his angel blade meets their attack. They come from the sides, and he fights them, and they come from below and he struggles to set himself free. ]


ii. the wails

[ You may be running away from a Banshee, or might just have spooked her or even approached her. Either way, for tonight you've got your own guardian angel. Once threatened, the wind kicks up and the sound of wings can be heard along the wing. One moment you're along the next, there's a man in a trench coat between you and the Banshee with gold in hand. ]


iii. the wildcard

[ ooc; feel free to make-up your own scenario and cas will go along with it - the more ridiculous the better! ]

ii.

[thecareergirl]

[Tina doesn't mean to encounter a Banshee, but, then again, Tina doesn't mean to encounter a lot of things in life; this is just another to add to the ever growing list.

She's walking along an empty-looking street when she first hears the sounds of what seems to be a woman weeping; unable to resist the sounds of someone in need, she turns and heads towards the source of the noise.

The woman seems to materialize out of thin air, and as Tina comes closer, that weeping sound turns into a noise much more potent - Tina feels her entire body tense as a piercing ache echoes throughout her head. She moves to grab for her wand, but winds up clutching at her head instead, feeling like she's about to explode at any moment.

Which is when she hears the rush of wind and catches sight of the man in the trenchcoat as he suddenly appears, a glint of something in his hand.]

Be careful! She seems dangerous.

[She has to shout, what with her hands covering parts of her ears. She wants to warn the stranger as much as she can.]

Klaus Hargreeves "Number Four" | The Umbrella Academy

[patrickswazyed]

Kiss Me! I might be 1/4 Irish!

A young man with guy-liner and a black, patchy, fur-lined black jacket in a sleek, black silk skirt and high-top black Chuck Taylors is walking around picking at the foods and stuffing his face while carrying a pint and washing it down. He's starving for some reason, maybe because he can't remember the last time he ate something, or maybe it's just the munchies. Eventually he makes his way around to where he spots a few kissing booths taking donations for kisses and gets an idea. He leaves the general party area and digs out a large enough bit of cardboard to make his own "Kissing booth" using a knife he finds near the food and smearing some sort of dark condiment on the front for lettering. He folds it just enough at the sides that it stands sort of on its own? He steals a stool from who knows where and sits in his "booth" holding it up as he props himself in the window, chin in hand and waits. Surely he can get cash this way, right? Who cares about the donations, he'll lie and then go find some drugs to buy when he's made enough.

"You there! Kiss me for a good cause! $1 for the forehead, $2 for the cheek, $5 for your lips, $10 if you want tongue." He waggles his brows and grins with that last one.

The Betties do catch up with him and one way or another he'll get some big shamrock stickers to paste over his nipples on his see-through black shirt. Totally in the spirit of things!

>Option B.
Klaus is able to hear/see/speak with the dead, this will work at times even while high in deer, which he currently is though he's slowly coming down. He can help anyone not wearing green! At least he can try and probably fail miserably!

To Weep, To Wail

Klaus has been having a rough time finding anyone selling anything that might help the fact he's coming down hard, complete with shakes, twitching, headaches and general paranoia. On top of that he can hear the voices creeping in slowly. He's been unusually alone all day, normally he would see Ben by his side, but he doesn't appear to have come to this place with him. Instead he's getting the unsettling voices of the dead trapped in Deerington. Which is only made worse by the wailing and sobbing he hears that's entirely too clear. Of course he immediately just assumes he's the only one aware of it and does his best to try and just ignore the sound. He's staggeringly drunk, but it's not enough to dull the ache of his lack of high or to quiet the voices in his head, and the louder ones are somehow not allowing him to just simply walk away.

Instead he catches himself looking over his shoulder, back towards the alley he passed that he swears he heard it coming from. He eventually, frustratingly stops and turns back to go check it out. He slinks near the corner of the alley and slowly peers around it to the crying voice.

"Hello?" He whispers, then slowly creeps further into the darkened space, "I can hear you... can you please leave me alone? I really can't help you if you're--"

Thats when a ghostly woman looks up from where she's crouched and sobbing, sniffling in his direction. Klaus pauses, shoulders and back going rigid as he watches her with caution and she watches him in return. She starts wailing some mans name at him and he frowns.

"Look, I'm sorry I don't know who that is, please just... move on or whatever it is you need to do. I don't know what you want?" He's fidgeting and looking around the alley and eventually pulls out his pack of cigarettes to fumble one out of the pack and light it. All the while the ghost is probably speaking to him and he's not even really trying to seem interested but humming and nodding as if he is listening.

"Do you smoke? Can ghosts smoke?" she doesn't appear to be answering him, but as he sighs and takes a drag she seems to calm down and slowly approaches him. He takes a small step back, rigid and unsure, until she gently reaches out to hand him something. He hesitates but holds out an inked palm and she deposits a rock there.

"oh...A rock? Gee... thanks, just what I always..." And with that she's gone. "...wanted."

He stares where she once floated, then looks around, up one side, then the other, than straight up above and around. Then with a shrug he starts to leave the alley, not really paying attention as he's puffing away on his cigarette and staring at the stone, trying to figure out if it's worth anything or if it does something, or if it's just a rock. If he's not careful he'll bump into whoever might be walking home.

Wildcard

"Hey!" He calls out to someone and picks up the pace to catch up to them, "Hi, excuse me....can you help me maybe? I'm wondering if you know where one might go to get some...uhm... pain killers or really any kind of pills? I need ... I forgot my medicine in my other jacket, silly me! it's very important. Could you please help a brother out?"

Wildcard 2.0

Choose your own adventure! Please feel free to drop a starter here, I will match formats! Or hit me up on Plurk @ aceofswords or Discord @ AceOfSwords#5694 or just PM this journal.

Wildcard

[oldschooltrashmouth]

Richie turns to face the kid with a knowing smile. He's never done enough to venture into junkie territory, but he knows how good a little help from Prince Valium can be, or a visit to Dr. Feelgood. Tom Petty was kidding himself if he thought there could ever be one last dance with Mary Jane, for that matter. But the matter at hand is not really about him, it's about this kid, and how bad off he might be.

"I might be able to figure something out." Richie lowers his voice. "How bad is it? You shakin', kid?"

Richie Tozier | IT (1990) | OTA

[oldschooltrashmouth]

Mr. Nell, The Irish Cop

This sure as shit isn't Derry, but some of the bones look real close. Richie's got his sunglasses on, and he's not taking them off for love or money, no sirree bob, you bet your fur. But the block party vibe is real familiar, and he has almost visceral flashbacks to bean suppahs and old biddies swapping deviled egg recipes while his father told him to just sit still for five minutes, Jesus, Richie. It's better than what he thought he'd be getting up to today, for sure, so he meanders up to the food tables, loading up a doubled-up paper plate with ham, brown bread, and a bowl of stew. The colcannon, he leaves, because fart pate was never his favorite, not ever. It's not sushi and In N' Out, for sure, and it's odd that it all feels so familiar.

He's humming a bar of California Dreamin' under his breath when a Betty accosts him with a green felt bowler. Without missing a beat, he slips into Mr. Nell.

"Faith n' begorrah, lass, d'ye hafta be gettin' all over a lad when he's tuckin' in like that? Jayyyyyyysus, saints pr'serve us."

Richie reaches up and gives the fedora a rakish tilt, and is about to say something more to the Betty, but she's already off to outfit the next Sleeper. So the quip falls to whoever's standing nearby.

"And here I thought maybe getting pinched would be the first action I'd seen in weeks!"


Wildcard

((OTA! Hit me up at hopepunk if you want to toss ideas around.))

Death the Kid | Soul Eater

[gunningforsymmetry]

Green
[The flower crown pressed into his hands by a masked, soulless, endlessly cheerful nightmare woman makes Kid feel a little unsure, a little concerned, but when in Maine....

He settles the loop of greenery on his head, carefully positioning it so the weight is just right, and tries to enjoy the party. Except. Except. Absolutely no one has taken any thought to how they're dressed, and there are off-center pins on lapels and smears of green paint on cheeks and flower crowns sitting lopsidedly on heads and absolutely no one appears concerned by this chaos.]

Excuse me! [Sorry, there's a short, pale, dark-haired (except for the stripes, don't mention the stripes) teenager in a black and white suit with a flower crown on his head marching up to you, and not ready to take no for an answer.

He's actually not even asking a question, just grabbing your shirt to adjust your pin or tugging you closer to his height to fix your flower crown or waving a brush loaded with green paint (whatever matches the green you're wearing now)

Don't worry. He just has to fix something.]

Grey
[He's unarmed, and he hates it. More for the lack of the presence of those two familiar, stabilizing souls than because he feels like he's in any danger. Kid rarely feels like he's in danger.

He certainly doesn't feel like there's any danger here, not as he sits on a tombstone and listens to a rag-wrapped ghost wail and cry about betrayal and vengeance and whatever else it is that ghosts care about.

Kid doesn't have anywhere else to be, so he sits patiently and waits and lets the specter finish her complaint (and that's what saves him tonight). She leaves behind a stone as a quiet thank-you, and he sits toying with it for a moment before heading back home, the shadows of his cape shifting around him and yellow eyes glowing faintly in the dark.]

Green

[silvertongueheir]

[Franciscus likes to think the asymmetry of the pin on his lapel looks nice on him, so he's pretty surprised when he's grabbed by a teen trying to "fix" it.]

Excuse me. What are you trying to do here? [He doesn't pull away just yet, though.]

elliot richards | oc

[despising]

( info & permissions! )


KISS ME I'M IRISH

[ Elliot is hungry not the kind of hungry that gets sated by any of the various foods being given out freely, but that doesn't stop him from taking the first drink offered to him, already muttering a shut up to a voice that he realises too late isn't there.

Not having Grant tethered to him feels weird. His soul feel like it's got an open sore simply from the lack of another touching back and he's not actually sure if it's actual damage or just him being too freaked out by feeling so alone for once. He lets out a frustrated noise and kicks back the drink, appreciating the warm burn in his throat. At some point during his wandering around, drinking and trying to find a ghost, he ends up inspiring a Betty to draw on his face with green facepaint. This resulted in a handful of shamrocks on his face connected by swooping vines. It's not his first rodeo, Magdy and Maxwell have had fun with paints and his face before. Though, the Betty didn't seem completely off her face on drugs... well, maybe...

He's in America if the accents are anything to go by. Not that he knows enough about America to place any of them to an actual state. So, the first person he sees that doesn't seem too busy, he'll be speaking up to, his South African accent sticking out like a sore thumb. ] What part of America is this?

[ He'll also be around to help anyone from the Sluagh; this weird teenage looking kid showing far too little alarm at the monsters attacking, and instead trying to touch them. And boy will it be a trip if he actually manages. Goddamn, he is so hungry, he might even come out of nowhere to snatch up one of the spirits harassing your character. Don't worry, much like a possum, he is just gross but probably more nervous about any living character than they are about him. ]

NETWORK: VIDEO ; UN: GHOSTWHISPERER

[ Elliot looks tired, but much healthier than he had the first time he was in Deerington. Not that he remembers it one bit. His request for information is of a completely different matter this go-round. ]

How many people have died here?

[ Seriously, this place feels like walking in a graveyard.

That's probably a morbid way to greet the network, so he goes with something a little less gruesome. He's in America, it's a little safer being out and proud about being a witch. ] Can someone point me in the direction of an occult shop? And a calculator.

WILDCARD

( tl;dr Elliot is a necromantic witch that looks like, well, this but is actually 25 so treat him like a kid and he'll curb-stomp. I had him here when the game first opened, but he has no memory of that, if your character remembers him, feel free to hit me with that CR! He's fast talking, has the same accent as trevor noah, and is covered in tattoos. I can be found at susrien )

smooches!

[variantcover]

[ That's not an accent Gwen has heard before, so she has some trouble placing it. She looks up from her minty milkshake and shrugs. ]

New England, somewhere? Not sure, just got here.

Isaac Mendez | Heroes (NBC)

[foresaw]

1. Block party

[ He is not wearing green. In fact, one would be hard pressed to pick out the red paint from the red blood that’s been splattered across his clothing. If you asked him the difference, he wouldn’t be able to tell you; he can’t remember the last time he painted something that wasn’t fire or blood or explosions.

One thing is for certain though: he is about to throw down with the Bettys if they don’t stop trying to force flower crowns onto his head and pins onto his shirt. ]

Get away from me.

[ He snarls at them until they give up, leaving him to his red-stained existence. All he wants to do is get away from the crowd. He has no interest in celebrating anything. ]

2. Sluagh-augh

[ The feeling of paranoia isn’t new to Isaac. He felt it every time he came down from his high and had to lay eyes on what he’d painted. The sounds of screams aren’t new either; he heard them echoing for days in his nightmares before he was finally put out of his misery. He had been prepared for that part. After all, he’d seen it coming. He’d painted his own death from every conceivable angle and when it finally happened, he faced it with acceptance. He saw the future, but escaping death wasn’t in it.

When it becomes difficult to breathe, he shrugs it off as the beginnings of withdrawal. Of course, that’s part of living, isn’t it? At least when it comes to his life. Ridiculous, he thinks when the skeletal figures materialize—another sign of withdrawal, clearly. Like something out of a bad comic book.

If you happen to come across him, you’ll find that he’s not fighting any of it, he’s simply laughing as he inches toward a second death. ]

3. Network; text. UN: mendez

how far from new york is this place?

[ Short, sweet, to the point. ]

4. Wildcard

[ what year is it. if you want to throw something at me, feel free. or grab me at muttonchops ]

text

[reaction]

ah, new york, new york. i remember being such a party animal back in new york. had the time of my life. but how sure are you it still exists in this brand new world, hm?

mary adler - gifted

[computative]

arrival;

[ Everything is scary when she wakes up. Her eyes stay dramatically, clenched shut for a moment, pretending to be asleep in a fashion that wouldn't fool even the most idiotic observer. But when she opens them,she's alone. And that dream still haunts her.

The next hour is a bit of a blur. Frank doesn't show up. No one does. There should be a bevy of people who try to help her, someone to stop her from leaving the house once she's unable to find Frank or Roberta or anyone she knows. (her search is as exhaustive as a seven-year old's search can be). But again, no one stops her.

So once she's outside, she's barefoot and lost. She needs to find the police station, they can help her find Frank and... Fred. The cat. The best cat ever. First find Frank, then Fred. ]

Frank! Fraaaaank! [ Her voice tiny but mighty. She's fairly calm for a child lost in a weird place.] Fred? Fredddd! Where are you? Roberta? [ When she sees you, she'll approach you with a little bit of a scowl.] Have you seen anyone named Frank around here? Or Roberta? Or maybe a cat? An orange, monocular cat?

[reaction]

[ Monocular? Damon raises an eyebrow at the kid whose voice is giving him a headache. How does an itty bitty thing like her use big adult-y words anyways? He takes another shot of whiskey, hoping that the little one will find someone else to bother, but when she continues to stand beside him, he puts on a fake smile and returns his attention to her. Oh, wouldn't Stefan and Elena be proud of him right now? ]

Mm. [ Okay. He'll bite. Figuratively. ] And where did you last see them?

Peter Parker | Marvel 616

[spectacularluck]

[ Green has never been his color. He knows that because a suspiciously high amount of people on his gallery of rogues seem to favor the color, so really, at this point its gotta be his direct opposite. But the nice thing about St. Patrick's Day is that he can see tons of people wearing green costumes with a reduced amount of chances that they're out to kill him.

The food is nice, the drinks are decent, and the kissing booth is ... something. He hadn't exactly meant to take a seat, but before he knew it he found himself drawn to the booth and then sitting in it, and by the time he realized he'd decided that, well, there are worse things he could do to help with a hospital.

So here he is, sitting in the kissing booth, wearing a green flower crown, and trying to advertise his services, because he might as well go all the way out ]

I could be either the best or the worst kiss you'll ever have. Only one way to find out?

[ For anyone not interested in kissing action, he can be found trying as much food as he possibly can ]

[variantcover]

[ Gwen walks past the kissing booth and does a double take. Is that Peter Parker?? ]

I'll pay double if I can kiss you upside down.

Maggie Lacivi | Ava's Demon

[lacivious]

KISS ME I'M IRISH

Maggie flicks her ponytail, a sign of extreme boredom on her end. She has no idea who in the world St. Patrick is and why he is so important in the first place but she is only interested because of all the green. Green is one of her main colors so she knew she already aced it but, just to show off, she accepted one of those flower crowns that were being handed out too. She had tried getting, what they call, "a pint" but she had been denied immediately. Something about being too young or something.

Anyone who would come across her would see her staring intensely at the little juice box that she has been given. Maggie struggles with opening it. The products here are a lot different than where she comes from. She hasn't had a juice box in her entire life. "Ugh! Who even puts juice in a box anyways!" Maggie yells before throwing it in a random direction then crosses her arms with a pout.

TO WEEP, TO WAIL

"You've got to be kidding me..." Maggie mumbles under her breath. Why can't she just have a normal walk in the dead of night? She takes a deep breath. "Okay, Maggie, stay calm. And don't stray from the path." She says to herself. If she kept walking straight, nothing can come get her. That's how it works, right? That is the only thing that is pushing Maggie onward, so, that's how it is going to work in her head. Maggie continues to walk, the feeling of uneasy only getting more and more oppressive.

She hears something shift behind her and she immediately gets on guard. "Who's there?!" She gets into a fighting stance or, well, one that she thinks looks relatively dangerous. "I'll fight you! Don't think I wont!"

neither of them are irish... we'll see about the kissing

[variantcover]

Luckily or unluckily, that random direction happens to be Gwen's direction, and Gwen catches the flying juice box pretty easily.

"Aw yeah, free juice!" She rips the straw free from the packaging and pierces the carton. That's when she notices the green haired girl.

"Oh... Was this yours?"

jesse pinkman | breaking bad

[chemethtry]

» LATE AT NIGHT @ THE HART MART — OPEN TO ANYONE
Hey, um—

[ A barefoot, skinny little tweaker of a guy in a garish pumpkin t-shirt and what looks like baggy pyjama pants has just exited the Hart Mart. He's rubbing the back of his neck, an anxious squeezing massage, while trying with all his might to not appear like he's on the brink of having a bewildered panic attack. His blue eyes are owlish while he pulls his mouth into an attempted imitation of a friendly smile at the person he's stopped by the store's entrance. ]

Y-You wouldn't happen to have any smokes on you... would you?
» TO WEEP, TO WAIL @ THE STREETS AT NIGHT — OPEN TO ANYONE
[ Thank fuck — cigarettes finally acquired. He needs something a whole lot stronger than nicotine to calm his rattled nerves, but at least the taste of cigarette smoke being sucked down his throat and into his lungs is familiar. He'll chainsmoke any kind of familiar he can cling onto right now. Jesse digs another fresh cigarette out of the pack clutched in his hand as he walks down the dark, uneasily quiet street and purses it between his lips. Cups a slightly trembling hand around the end, flicks the lighter to ignite the tip—

And halts in his tracks at the ghostly sound shivering somewhere ahead of him in the darkness. The flame casts a soft, eerie glow across Jesse's face as his eyes snap up in the sound's direction. There it is again, a little louder... and again, louder still. A wailing sound? Someone crying? Or something crying? Something approaching him? ...Yes. Approaching him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle on end like a cold chill. Run, you sonofabich! he mentally screams at himself. Yet, he remains rooted on the spot. Takes a hesitant barefoot step forward, in fact. ]

Y-Yo— [ Trying to sound tough. The unsteadiness in Jesse's voice belies him, though. Lighter still aflame, the cigarette bobs between his lips as he adds: ] Who's there?

to weep, to wail

[lacivious]

 [Maggie, herself, is walking on the sidewalk doing her best to stay cool. Panicking would not help her in this situation and would probably bring whatever is wailing and cry towards her. Like, they'd feed off of her negative emotions or something. She didn't want her emotions fed on! They are hers and hers alone! Maggie takes a deep breath, speeding up her walk a bit.  

She pauses when she sees a guy not too far away from her. He seems just as freaked out as she is, if not a bit more. Pulling a bit of a little joke would help her feel better, at least.] 

Ooooo. I'm the ghoooost of your braaaain.

[Maggie chuckles before finally approaching him, making herself known.] 

If I were a monster, I would have definitely eaten you already. You could have at least tried sounding more convincing. 

[laminae]

Kiss me I'm green.

[This isn't right. Fern isn't actually sure what any of this is, but he's pretty sure this isn't right. The last thing he remembers is being on the losing end of a robot arm's weed whacker attachment, and then POOF, and then something about a bucket, maybe. His memories are a little fuzzy so he isn't too clear on that last one. Kind of tough to have clear memories when you've been weed wacked into oblivion and all.

So why is he in some weird town that's holding some even weirder party? Is this even Ooo? More importantly....

He looks down at his hands.

How is he back in one piece? He's absolutely certain he donked up that trap-Finn-and-secretly-replace-him plan. So why is he here? He stares down at himself for a few minutes more, but eventually pulls himself out of his confusion to grab the arm of the nearest person.]

Hey, where am I?

[At least he looks like he fits in. Sort of. He's got the green down no problem but, uh. That is definitely one kid made out of grass.]

Too weep, to wail, to fight evil monsters.

[Now he's something he's used to. Fern has been out all day wandering, unsure of what to make of all of this, so the sight of a monstrous bleeding monster is exactly what he needs! Unlike a certain hero of Ooo he makes no attempt to figure out whether the situation actually warrants a violent solution, he just grins toothily.

With some suddenly very sharp teeth, and a demonic glow to his eyes.

There's an ominous whistling as an equally green, equally grassy sword slides out from his arm, and he advances on the creature.]

2

[gunningforsymmetry]

[Kid has already discovered the actual way to handle these things, has quietly walked up to one and listened to her cry and got a rock for his trouble. The rock sits in his pocket, and the weight doesn't bother him.

But as the green figure rushes towards the ghost, Kid stands off to the side, wrapped in shadows and quietly watching from an alley (he doesn't mean to be creepy, but it just sort of happens sometimes). He's going to watch and see how this fight goes.]