SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

SEPTEMBER 2020 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to September's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: CHILDREN/YOUNG ADULT HORROR.

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: Evil dollhouses, potential body horror (turning into a doll), heights, pranks with the potential to cause harm, some stalking vibes
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

THE EVIL DOLLHOUSE

When you wake up, you find you're not in your own bed, your own room, or even your own house. The room is well decorated, almost Victorian in fashion. The bed is pretty uncomfortable and you're not even sure the mattress is a real mattress. The chairs look like they might be made of plastic and the doors are flimsy. But it might not be what catches your eye, especially if you look out the window.

Through the clear panes (which also seem to be plastic), you will notice you do not see the town of Deerington, or even the outdoors at all. You see a living room that feels larger than life. There aren't any people in it, but as you look around at the fake looking furnishings and the strange view, you might be hit with a realization: you're inside a dollhouse.

The dollhouse has three floors for those who explore; the second floor you woke up on has two bedrooms and a fake little bathroom, all decorated in the same Victorian dollhouse style as the room you originally found yourself in. The bottom floor has a cute little kitchen with small porcelain dolls sitting around the table, a living room with all the basic furniture one would expect to find (in fact, it looks a great deal like the living room outside the windows), and an office filled with books that can't actually be pulled out of the shelves. On the very top floor is an attic. It's dusty and filled with broken toy beds and chairs, a few shattered doll pieces, and on the far wall you'll see another bookshelf. All seems... fairly standard, really, if you're used to seeing dollhouses.

But what there doesn't appear to be is an exit.

While searching, you may run into another Sleeper. A friend or a stranger, it's clear you're both stuck here together. And the longer the time ticks by, the more concerning things get. You might not notice at first, but anyone inside the dollhouse starts slowly... changing. It seems to go at a different pace for everyone, but the results are always the same. Your skin will start to become porcelain, your cheeks more rosy, your clothes made of cheaper cloth material, your joints become stiffer, and your eyes will start to become more and more glass like. If you don't get out of the dollhouse soon, it's clear that you may become the next doll at the kitchen table.

Searching the house again may feel fruitless, but keen observers may find light scratches on the floor in front of the bookshelf in the attic. Maybe they were like that because of someone moving things around or maybe there's a reason. If you decide to eventually pull the bookshelf aside, there will be a large door in the wall. It may seem strange, given that the wall only leads to the outside, but it's the only door to the outside that actually opens. You expect it to open up into the living room, but instead you'll see the grass of the park below. Far below. It's likely you could get hurt jumping, especially if you've started to turn to porcelain, but what other choice do you have?

Once characters take the plunge, they will find that they land rather softly in the grass, despite how high the jump may have seemed. As soon as you are out of the dollhouse, your body will have returned to complete normal.

And the house with the dollhouse in the living room will be nowhere in sight.

THOSE PESKY KIDS

You start off thinking maybe you're just forgetful and moved minor pieces around in your house without paying attention. You might think you're just seeing strange things out of the corner of your eye, because why wouldn't you? It's Deerington. Things are always strange. But each day, there's something weirder going on. Small objects might turn into entire rooms being rearranged, strange sightings out of the corner of your eye might turn into you swearing you saw a lake monster running through the street, and you swear you can hear the rattling of chains or the sounds of someone telling you to leave echoing in your house at night or following you down the street.

A haunting seems plausible. It wouldn't be the first time in Deerington. But no amount of herbs burned, or exorcisms performed, or chants and spell cast will make these things go away. In fact, they seem to just becoming more and more frequent, and more and more intense. Eventually, the strange creatures you see running around may start to try and attack you. They may start to try and kill you. But they always run off before you can attack back or show yourself to be stronger than them. It's probably the first time the monsters have ever been so easily scared.

Anyone who looks into it further may start to find weird clues lying around after a monster has been chased off. Footprints that don't look quite monster-like, tapes or records that when played will make strange rattling sounds like the chains you've been hearing, a piece of rubber that looks a lot like the monsters skin... Huh. The more you follow the clues, the more they'll lead you towards the answer to your dilemmas; these aren't hauntings.

They're pranks.

People can work together to catch a monster or ghost (or killing it, if you decide to); catching them will lead to them getting quite flustered and angry, struggling to get away. Pull off the mask or the sheet and underneath you'll find... a very disgruntled townsperson. Maybe your business was taking too much money away from theirs and they were hoping you'd close down with enough scares, maybe you talked back to them one time and they were looking for revenge, maybe you ruined their house or garden when you were fighting the things in Deerington that actually try to kill you, or maybe they were just having some "harmless" fun; they all have a different excuse, but they're clearly angry about getting caught.

They woulda gotten away with it if it weren't for you pesky Sleepers, after all.

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]

[sidecars]

so long as the character is INSIDE the dollhouse, can they potentially shatter? For example, if the character fell down the stairs and was turning into porcelain, could they shatter an arm or something?

Lance | Voltron

[azurestar]

Arrival Return

[Though Lance was isolating himself in the woods more often than not in the months before his sudden departure from Deerington, it's not there that he wakes upon his return. It's in his room at the Voltron House of Mouse. Distantly, he considers that might be a sign from the universe that he should figure his shit out already. But... his memories of said "shit" are hazy when he first returns.

It's the middle of the day when most people are likely out and about on the town, and he stumbles his way out to the front yard. Where he's immediately hit in the face by that strong warm wind coming down from the mountain.]

Woah! What the cheese?

[He hasn't said something like that in a while, but that might be what happens when you go home for a handful of weeks and then return to Nightmare Town just to be slammed in the face by nearly two years' worth of crazy memories.

The wind is enough to make him stumble a bit, and he braces himself on the trunk of one of the trees nearby. Something feels... strange, and it takes him a slow couple of minutes to realize what feels so off to him. Well, one of the things, there's a lot that's off, and... raw about the entire atmosphere here. But what's off about his immediate touching of the tree is that he's not killing it with radiation. He blinks in bewilderment and looks up at the very alive and flourishing branches with awe.]

Dollhouse

[Back in Nightmare Town, and back to all the weird shit that happens in it. Lance can be found in the dollhouse poking the cheek of one of the dolls sitting in the fake bathroom of all places. On the toilet. Which makes sense since dollhouses are owned by children, and if he's learned anything from his niece and nephew it's that putting Barbie on the toilet is the tamest thing they'll think to do that will make them giggle.

He sighs heavy and resigned at the memory of his family and rubs the back of his neck, not enjoying the nauseatingly familiar way it feels more plastic then it did a few minutes ago. Last time he was made into a doll was hardly the worst that has happened to him in Deerington, at least. Silver linings.]

Man, I sure didn't miss this crap. [He pats the doll's shoulder reassuringly.] Could be worse, though. Right, Stacey?

[And with that, "Stacey" is jostled enough to fall over headfirst into the bath tub and her cheap 50s era doll skirt falls to her waist exposing... well, her doll bits.]

Tis a Mystery!

[It's been less than a week, hardly a handful of days since he's been back and it's been a mixed back in many ways.

On the plus side: he got to go home and see his family, get some perspective and upon his return, he discovered that the powers he got from Moira aren't there anymore! Or in the very least, they're not going to kill people, he hasn't been ready to test beyond how many trees he doesn't kill with his touch. And he got to reunite with his best friends that he can only see here, and be there for his team.

On the down side: he's back in Deerington where he has been tortured and driven mad, and he's pretty sure he fucked up even worse than ever back home right before he came back to the nightmare. Oh, and some poltergeist or creature from the black lagoon has been stalking him and making his life miserable.

He can be found crouched in various places around the town, examining clues like he thinks he's Sherlock Holmes. A weird set of footprints there, a smattering of blood there, even a chunk of fur and another of scales? It might surprise people to know that he's actually pretty good at investigating this kind of stuff even if he looks like an over-invested LARPer while he's doing it.]

Hmmmm. [He leans down to smell his latest clue up close. His wolf daughter, Edelya sits a few feet nearby and cocks her head at him, he looks to her and frowns.] Don't give me that, of course I know what I'm doing!

Wildcard!

[Hit me up with anything you want, I'm game for most stuff. But if you're unsure then I can be contacted at spypigeon for plotting and questions!]

Dollhouse!!!

[tagartist]

[ Chloe had groaned at waking up in a dollhouse, the familiarity of it all too annoying to be terrifying anymore. She rubbed at her face and had pulled herself out of the uncomfortable bed, set on looking around for clues on how to fix this shit as quickly as possible, when she heard the talking in the bathroom. Normally, she'd just go and make some sarcastic quip, try and work together, and hope that they weren't an asshole about it. But she knows that voice and she wasn't expecting to hear it ever again. Especially not talking like he remembers.

She tries to crush down the bubble of hope in her chest, because maybe he's not real, or maybe she misheard and she's wrong, or maybe he'd be back but forget her specifically for some fucking reason, or a number of other catastrophized situations that pop into her head. She manages to somehow keep herself from simply barging into the room and tackling him, and instead goes to push the door open, leaning against the frame. ]

Wow. I can't believe your bashing top-tier Deerington entertainment.

Lev | The Last of Us Part II

[bowliever]

i. the dollhouse

(cw: doll murder)

[Lev doesn't like this place. First of all, you can't bust out through the windows (he tried) and the door doesn't seem to work no matter how hard he tries to break it open. Not to mention... everything is so... intact; there's no damage that he can climb or crawl under. It makes him feel exposed, like someone's watching him.

So instead he creeps around corners, bow at the ready, trying to head off the threat that he's pretty sure is there. You know, like those weird dolls that he doesn't get are supposed to be dolls because he grow up post-apocalypse?

If he catches sight of another sleeper at the edge of the kitchen, he'll put a finger to his lips and gesture for them to keep down and silent. If you're inclined to listen to a thirteen year old with scars on his face anyway.

Then he'll stand and fire off a perfect shot right into the back of one of the doll's head. The head, being made of hard porcelain, promptly cracks in half and clatters to the floor as the body of the doll collapses onto the table. None of the other dolls move.

With a frown, he goes over to expect the poor headless doll. He prods at it with his foot like he doesn't understand what it is.]

...What the fuck?

ii. it's a leap of faith.

[So after he commits violent doll murder, Lev realizes there isn't a threat in this house as much as the house itself is a threat. His fingers harden and his bow becomes more difficult to use. There's still no exit. The only thing he can find is a bookshelf in the attic that has scratches on the floor.

When he manages to push it away... he finds himself staring down, down, down into a park below. Much higher than it should be. He can even hear the wind whistle as it does at great heights.

He looks back and then looks outside again.]

This is the only way out. We have to jump.

[If you seem nervous, he'll offer you a hand. Or maybe you're just gonna watch this kid yeet himself.

Either way, before he jumps. He mutters a prayer with his hand held in front of his face and head bowed:]

May she guide us.

[AND JUMP.]

iii. stick the landing

[Aaaaaand Lev lands onto the grass and stumbles a bit. He'd been expecting to try and roll to mitigate damage but instead he just... lands with a minor impact, like the force he took off with wasn't proportional to the distance that he just jumped.


He glances upwards, expecting to see the Dollhouse, only to find it gone. He frowns. But if there was someone there with him, his expression will lighten and he'll walk over to the other Sleeper and observe them, almost curiously, especially if they seem frazzled.]

See? We were able to make it alright.

ix. wildcard

[Feel free to choose you own adventure! My PMs are open or you can hit me up at mythal]

the dollhouse

[glimpulsive]

[ So that finger to his lips? Totally warranted, because Glimmer was about to react in any number of loud ways to seeing another person here. He may have heard her on the other end of the first floor, "muttering" (stage muttering at best) about where this creepy place is and why she can't teleport, UGH!

He is not, however, able to stop her gasping at the doll murder. ]

What are you doing! What if they'd been a real person! You can't just use tech to attack people that haven't attacked you!

SIDESWIPE | Transformers RiD

[redshitlord]

>> ARRIVAL <<
[ ... okay. Weird dreams aside, he's pretty sure this isn't the right scrapyard. Dreams can be chalked up to some new, lame, Decepticon stunt. Stranger things have happened! Totally! It's plausible! Right? Right. Good call, brain module.]

[But it doesn't exactly explain anything. Like where he is or why he can't get any return pings on the comms. That's new and mildly alarming.]

Whatever...

[Maybe they dumped him. Some small part of his spark would not be entirely shocked by that, at this point. Probably Strongarm's fault. Or, maybe, says the more charitable part of him, it's just a prank. It's just Grim and Russel being dorks. Yeah - that's why he's in a strange place all alone. Sure.]

Real funny, guys! I'm laughing on the inside! Like, split my seams laughing!

[As the 15' tall, bright cherry red Autobot just strolls out of Deerington's junkyard. No big deal.]


>> MEDDLING KIDS <<
[And later on... passers by may encounter what looks like someone in a cartoon Scream mask - you know the type - being chased by...]

[By a cherry red sportscar. Just whipping down the street like he's on the freeway. Occasionally flashing his headlights at the fleeing figure.]

[That's. Normal, right?]

kids!

[royalfling]

Whoa! [ Wu watches, rapt, as the car zips past him ] Whoa whoa whoa that's the coolest Satomobile I've ever seen! Wait! [ He starts to run after the car, seemingly heedless of the fact that it was chasing someone. ] Hold up! I want a ride!

Ford Pines | Gravity Falls

[cryptograms]

( a. dollhouse )
[ Ford wishes he could say this is the first time he had some sort of strange dream only to wake up somewhere unfamiliar and potentially dangerous, but it isn't. It's not even the second or third time. The fifth, maybe...?

Well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that this house is clearly having some sort of (probably negative) effect on him, and he needs to get away before it worsens. He does take a moment to stop and scribble down some notes, only to discover that his pen appears to have been replaced by some sort of plastic replica. Very annoying.

Naturally, Ford's working on a way out, but before he tries the attic he goes for a more direct approach. He's disassembled some of the dollhouse furniture and is standing at one of the windows when another dollhouse resident catches his attention. Without another thought he lifts his hand (sharp observers might note that he has six fingers) in a wave, trying to get their attention. ]

Excuse me! Could you lend a hand?

[ He taps a chair leg against the window's plastic pane. ]

If we apply enough pressure we may be able to pop this right out of its frame!

( b. investigation preparation )
[ Ford is not in his potentially haunted house, as exciting as that idea might be. Instead he's out preparing to return to his potentially haunted house. Whether he's at the department store or the art store, he's loaded down with an strange assortment of items. Pens, sketchbooks, photography equipment, a multimeter, a soldering iron, a voice recorder, a spool of wire, zip ties... it's quite the collection. Ford didn't bother grabbing a basket, so one is likely to encounter all of that stuff stacked neatly on the floor. As for Ford himself, he's climbed up the nearest shelving unit and is now rummaging through the boxes on the top shelf in search of something that wasn't restocked in time. Just a normal thing for a man in his sixties to get up to.

After a moment, Ford withdraws a package from one of the boxes with a triumphant aha! It's only after he's turned his gaze down to begin his descent that he realizes he has company. ]

Oh - my apologies. Am I in your way?

[ Between his coat and the fact that he's pretty tall, he's blocking off a not insignificant portion of the shelf. ]

( c. wildcard )
[ PM me here or at begleiter to plot something, or write your own starter! ]

B.

[laminae]

[Fern has never really considered himself the artistic type, but Luna has been a good influence on him recently. That combined with an abundance of free time, and he's found himself in the art store for once, reluctantly poking around the paint supplies before deciding on something infinitely less complicated.

There is a single plain sketch book in his hand, and he's heading down this next aisle to find a pencil and eraser to go with it when he finds some random guy... ransacking the place? It looks like he's ransacking the place. He stops there, looking down at the stack of stuff on the ground and the guy climbing down off the shelving.]

Dude, are you gonna buy out the whole store or something?

[Or just steal, which seems legit to him. Either way there is one confused kid made entirely out of grass with flowers apparently sprouting out of his grass braid questioning just what the heck is going on.]

matt murdock | marvel 616

[motiontostrike]

the evil dollhouse

Matt wakes with a start, head pounding and nostrils full of the scent of wood varnish. To say that something isn’t right would be a redundancy — nothing has been right since he fell asleep in Hell’s Kitchen and awoke to 1950s Maine. Foggy has been telling him for years that he needs a vacation. That he should get out of the city, and clear his mind for a little while. He’d been starting to think it might not be such a bad idea. Maybe he’d head back to San Francisco and drop in on some old friends, or even overseas for a little while. Whatever play this is, it’s sure no coastal seafood tour.

He groans and stretches, waiting for the fog to clear and expecting to remember where he stumbled in from last night. He remembers an underground club and a scratchy jazz record. Too many drinks, and a woman with a voice like a wind chime… No, maybe that was the night before. Matt swings his legs over the bed, but when his feet hit the floor they do so with a strange thump. There’s something wrong about the floorboards, something missing. Matt stomps again, listening to the hollow reverberation off the furniture around him. Everything is flimsy and patchwork, like balsa wood.

“Hello?” he calls, then listens to the way his voice pingpongs around the space. Something definitely isn’t right. Matt makes his way to the doorway of the bedroom and into the hall, calling out again. “Anyone else out there?” Not that he doesn’t know. From down the hallway, he hears shuffling.

those pesky kids

There are plenty of good reasons for Matt to be meticulous about his possessions. He doesn’t lose things. The idea that he would inadvertently misplace something is bordering on absurd. Far more likely than some early-onset dementia is that someone — or something — is fucking with him. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that it could be a something, but just what that means in a town like Deerington is a mystery that Matt is still uncovering. If there’s a reason he’s been brought here, he’s yet to have found it. If one of his old foes is responsible for this delusion, they’ve yet to reveal themselves. Or maybe he simply hasn’t tugged at the curtains hard enough to bring the whole façade crashing down, but he’s getting damn close now. He really misses that coffee cup.

Without the proper vessel in which to enjoy his necessary morning fix, he’s in search of a diner when something detracts him. Whoever is following him doesn’t have the sense to maintain distance. The smell of Aqua Net hairspray and modacrylic fiber are unmistakable. He’s not familiar enough with the town yet to be sure he can lose them, but at the next alley Matt hangs a hard left. The footsteps increase to a gallop, and Matt rushes towards the next block.

To any onlookers, it appears that the blind man in the suit is being pursued by a hairy, bipedal waheela.

around town

While the map of town isn’t an entirely useless thing, Matt can still think of no better way to learn his surroundings than by walking them. It isn’t the name of the streets or the angle of their intersection that gives shape to the world around him. The puzzle of Deerington is only going to be solved by a thorough examination of the town and its inhabitants themselves.

He’s wary of any traps, but he’s also curious. And hungry. During his first few days in Deerington, Matt can be found checking local restaurants for the best club sandwich, digging through the racks at the local clothing stores for something a little more seasonally-appropriate, and circling the local chapel, looking awfully pensive.

those pesky kids

[howlett]

Determined as some of Deerington's creatures are to wreak havoc, the townsfolk aren't proving to be quite as cunning as the things summoned by wider world. Costumes aside they do nothing to disguise their scent, but the closer the man with the white cane get's the more Logan's certain he doesn't need to be told that.

He slings an elbow out the window of his truck and exhales a lungful of cigar smoke. "I don't remember you with a guide dog, Murdock."

Neal Caffrey | White Collar | CRAU | OTA

[bluesteal]

Arrival— [closed to Cable]

[ One dream leads into another, or so it must seem on the outset for Neal Caffrey. Awakening in a strange place with little knowledge as to the circumstances surrounding the shift isn't nearly as jarring now as it had been the first time around. Besides being quite skilled at landing on his feet, anything — or near anything — is preferential to waking up in the dingy dismalness of the Down.

Sitting up in bed, Neal tries to shake off the strange dream that lingers on the periphery, head full of bizarre, ghostly music and imagery. It altogether feels desperate and relieving, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions unbidden, but not necessarily unwanted. How long had he wanted to wake up elsewhere? It had felt like years even if it had only been months.

Exploring this new location, he finds a quaint condominium that isn't entirely unreminiscent of what he'd been used to before his arrival in Duplicity. There's an old world charm to it, from the carved wood to the vaulted ceilings to the heavy drapes, each reading as if they were precisely curated exactly to Neal's standards. ]

Not bad...

[ It's his initial assessment as he allows his senses to shift and settle, as he reminds himself not to trust his own eyes until it's clear and obvious what he's seeing isn't just another fever dream. ]


The Evil Dollhouse— [OTA]
cw: evil dollhouses, potential body horror (turning into a doll), heights, potential bodily harm

[ Quick on his feet — a puzzler if ever there was one — Neal hones in on the scratches on the floor of the attic as soon as he possibly can. He's practically supernatural in his ability to cut through the minutiae, to see past the things that could easily be mistaken as important but have no relative value to the situation.

Hiking at his trousers and kneeling stiffly, he peers down at the marks with intense eyes, bright blue and keenly focused. He runs his fingertips across the scrapes, head lifting to observe the bookshelf. By now he's come to realize that everything in this so-called house is fake, at least on some level, and as he squints at the books and knick knacks, he can see each section is made from a piece of printed cardboard made to look like what it's meant to be, but failing in its purpose with such close observation.

Standing again, Neal skirts around to the side of the bookcase and presses both hands to the thin plywood, pushing with some effort. It yields under the force he applies, but only just. ]

Hey, give me a hand with this. I think it might be the way out.

[ If his companion is willing and able, together they'll succeed in moving aside the bookshelf and revealing the outside world, fantastically out of place but a relief nonetheless considering a moment ago they were trapped.

Of course, it sure is a long way down... ]


Those Pesky Kids— [OTA]
cw: pranks with the potential to cause harm, some stalking vibes

[ Neal is beautiful, tall, pleasant, intelligent — modelesque and picture perfect, for lack of a better description — but he's not exactly... brave. Far from cowardly, Neal Caffrey is the epitome of savvy, in fact, quick to understand his own boundaries (even if they number very few).

When the "haunting" begins, it would be safe to say that Neal is freaked out. He's seen a lot, especially in the last couple of years, but ghosts are a form of dead people and Neal has never been on board with the afterlife. It's not just his own grappling with mortality, but the softness of an intellectual as well, someone who would much rather think his way out of a situation than fight through it. ]

Did you see that? What was that?

[ Eyes as wide as can be, Neal has moved himself behind his companion, not exactly using them as a shield, but not not using them in that manner, either. "Scaredy Cat" would be particularly apt in describing Neal, as his often mercurial nature would make that assessment rather on point.

The so-called ghost, rattling its chains, crosses their path a second time and Neal ducks some, both to make himself appear smaller and also to lesson the chances of being seen. ]

We should run, right? We should run...


Wildcard— [OTA]
[ Don't see something here? Hit me up with a random prompt of any variety and I will be glad to roll with it! ]

---

OOC— Neal Caffrey is taken from post-canon White Collar and has nine months of CRAU history from Duplicity. I will avoid most major spoilers as well as mention of his past CRAU experience unless expressively given permission. Please include this in your header as "spoilers okay" or "CRAU okay" when replying. Blanks will be considered as opting out by default. Will match style.

the wildest of cards

[wwrench]

Autumn in Deerington just feels right somehow. Maybe it's the return to a landscape not unlike his first introduction to the place, or maybe it's his impending nuptials. Whatever the reason, when the new month rolls around and things begin to return to a pace approaching some version of "normal," Wes feels like he can breathe a little easier. Even the ceaseless oddities of this place seem well-considered, somehow, when set against the backdrop of changing leaves and darkening skies.

Despite his fears to the contrary, Grady has come back to life after all. For a man who's been shot and severed and stabbed more times than Wes has energy to count, the death flu seems to make him inconsolable. But he's back, and Wes has yet to realize that the appearance of one cabin resident will spell the withdrawal of another.

He hasn't seen Jean-Paul all day -- which isn't unusual, but is hardly preferable -- so when he spots him from outside the window of Grady's shop, he's more pleased than he is surprised. It's already getting dark, but Wes figures he can give them both a ride back to the cabin, so he pushes open the door and sidles up behind the man. Wes winds his arms around his waist and hugs him at the back, signing in front of the both of them.

When did your hair get so long? We ought to trim it when we get home.

Sayaka Miki | Puella Magi Madoka Magica

[onlyoneregret]

Arrival

[At first Sayaka wondered if their plan had failed and they'd been trapped in another one of Incubator's traps. However, it quickly became clear that this was, in fact, not another of their tricks. What had happened? She wasn't sure. They were just about to go pick up Homura, but here she was, in a completely new place. Alone, it would seem.

It didn't take long for her to go out in her magical girl outfit - something she had woken up in. She doesn't have her weapons ready (because she can get them out fairly quickly), but she is on alert.

This definitely looked like one of those western towns she had seen in old films. She looks around at anyone she might find.]

Hi! Sorry, new here. Can you tell me a bit about this place?


Doll House

[She had to stop waking up like this.

While Sayaka had never actually played with a dollhouse, she did know what they looked like. And the more she looked around, the more sure she was about where she was. Now she might as well be trapped in a witch labyrinth except of course she wasn't.

By the time she's done exploring the place she starts noticing her skin is starting to turn into porcelain. Stiff and shiny.]

Seriously?

[Guess she has no choice put to look for the exit again. She doesn't want to turn into a doll, after all.

She calls out to when she notices someone.]

Oooi... any luck with finding a way out?

arrival

[prayed]

[ Kyoko hears Sayaka before she sees her, and the sound of the familiar voice makes her heart stop. Her muscles freeze in place, and she finds herself as eager to look as she is terrified. How many times had this place taunted her? How many times had her hopes been crushed?

She turns to face Sayaka, looking as though she'd just seen a ghost. Her heart races, her hands tremble, and a lump seems to lodge itself into her throat.

She was asking people about this place, so she must have just arrived. But that meant... Does that mean...? Questions race throughout her mind, and in the end Kyoko manages to utter just a single word: ]

S-Sayaka...

[ She's really here, right? ]

David Alleyne - Marvel 616

[helpdesk_hero]

Pesky Sleepers

The problem with haunting someone is that when you do it, you've really got to mean it. Otherwise someone who has actually been through it before just raises a curious eyebrow. The leave being whispered around as David walked the streets didn't bother him, not when the last time someone whispered those words at him, they tended to be accompanied by chemistry labs almost exploding, or tables levitating, or knives hovering above them and almost falling into him from above.

Ultimately, though, words escalate to things damaged, escalates to sightings, escalates to, well, this.

A man in his early twenties wearing strange yellow sunglasses and looking utterly unimpressed by what seems to be a yeti. The thing roars and lunges, fist swinging. The man ducks the obviously telegraphed punch, grabs the arm at wrist and elbow, and with a quick step forward and around has the form bent over and whimpering in pain.

"If you're going to play at monstrous, you need to be more convincing. I've seen way scarier than you."

And, when he catches sight of someone nearby he just offers a shrug.

"This thing's arm isn't nearly beefy enough for what it's supposed to be. Feels like a costume. You mind checking to see if it's a mask. Don't worry, it won't bite."

The yeti growls as if to protest, but David just twists the arm up into a more awkward position.

"If you do, I'm dislocating your shoulder. Do you really want that?"

And look, just like that the thing is acquiescing.


Around Town

A) One of the most important things about surviving in a new place, in a new situation, was learning the new terrain. Which was why David found himself wandering. He moves through the town, looking, seeking. What he'll find, he doesn't know. But the place feels... quaint. Feels sweet. He wanders past small bakery and smiles at the scent it makes in the air, smiles at the design of the ice cream shop, and he pauses outside of the pizza shop and then smiles. As a Chicago native, he's picky as hell.

"Oh hell yes," he grins as he slips into the pizza shop and heads right up to the counter. Because he sees the truth of the place. "I haven't had proper pizza in forever."


B) Later on he ends up slipping in to the book store, only to pause and stare in shock up at the ceiling. Were there really books up there? Was there really whispering going on? Books weren't supposed to do that. Well, except for truly magical tomes. He's pretty certain some of what he knows from Dr. Strange said that it was possible. And it was the really scary books that whispered.

"They aren't supposed to do that, are they?


C) The end of his afternoon of wandering was a stop in the floral shop. For the life of him, this place didn't have nearly enough plants. David just wanted to be around the rich green, smell the moisture in the air, taste the plant-life around him. Krakoa. He missed Krakoa already.

"I don't s uppose there are any tropical plants for sale, are there? I could use... well, a few dozen. Sort of missing the tropics."

Wildcard

[OOC: Have another idea? Start something and I'll jump in to it. Or ask for something and I'll shape something up.]

pesky pesky!

[variantcover]

There's only one handsome young black man who wears glasses like that. How helpful it is, Gwen thinks, when characters show up wearing their trademark outfits.

"Sure thing, Prod!" she cheerfully agrees, bouncing up behind the 'yeti' and taking a closer look. "Oh, yeah, costume for sure. There's a zipper right here." And she is now pulling that zipper down to reveal the townie inside, dressed in a threadbare white undershirt and red polka dot boxers. Gwen makes a face.

"Dude, I get that it's hot inside a sasquatch cosplay, but have a little common decency!"

Lysithea | Fire Emblem Three Houses

[morethanachild]

[a. the dollhouse]

Oh - what an exquisite abode.

[Lysithea wanders around the house carefully, examining the furnishings and decorations. She pauses in front of the dolls in the kitchen and gingerly picks one up, smiling as she looks upon its gentle features.]

It's certainly a more pleasant awakening than the previous one. But isn't this very odd?

[She frowns as she squeezes the kitchen table and chair. Beneath her hands, they feel... well, she finds it hard to describe. They're not of a material that she's ever encountered before. Smooth to the touch, a bit...]

Not the kind of furniture a grand house like this deserves. I find it strange. What say you? Does this kind of thing happen often around here?

[b. those pesky kids]

Aha!

[Lysithea - who, it will be noted, stands a solid six feet back with half her body hidden behind a conveniently placed nearby tree - thrusts a finger outwards in satisfaction as her companion unmasks the disgruntled townsperson. By most standards, she had not carried herself terribly well in the preceding investigation. Her major contribution had been to sling about ideas like 'burn down the house' or 'utterly exterminate all beings of spiritual provenance such that not even the barest trace of their soul remains'.]

I-I obviously knew this would have a... a rational explanation! There's no such thing as ghosts! ...Well, no, I know there are creatures of... unknown origin here, but I mean -- there's no such thing as... floating bedsheet ghosts!

As if we would ever be taken in by such a preposterous act.

[Lysithea had been taken in by such an preposterous act.]

Take them away!

A

[ninetieskid]

[Jubilee had chalked the weird house up to just another one of Deerington's pranks and had gotten dressed and headed downstairs to explore and see about finding a way out. Running a hand through her tousled mop of dark hair as she watched the younger girl poking around, she tried to remain unobtrusive till she was spoken to.]

Oh sure, all the time.

[Stepping into the kitchen, hands shoved into the pockets of her bright yellow trenchcoat, Jubilee grins.]

This town does all kinds of weird stuff. Sometimes there are mechanical bears that try and kill you, other times there are life-sized doll houses.

Guessing you just woke up here. No injuries or anything, right?

dimitri alexandre blaiddyd | fire emblem: three houses | ota

[saviourking]

i. dollhouse

[ Growing used to the sensation of waking up in a different location than you’d fallen asleep seems like an ill omen, but there is no denying it’s easier the second time. Still worrying, of course. Just... less immediately terrifying.

Dimitri is quick to take stock of the unfamiliar surroundings and eager to search for an escape alongside whoever else may be nearby. At some point, once the introductions have been made and when it becomes clear a door is not planning to magically appear before them, he turns to his companion. ]

We may need to consider creating an exit, if necessary.

[ Property damage has often occasionally been an unintentional consequence of his strength. This may well be the first time it’s been the goal instead. ]

ii. dollhouse (going down?)

[ There were many students back at Garreg Mach who suffered from a fear of heights, but Dimitri has never counted himself among them. On the contrary, he’s always found the idea of soaring across the skies mounted on a wyvern (or griffin, if one takes inspiration from tales of old) to be an enthralling one. A skill left untrained only because his own combat style would never mesh properly with the tactics required.

Now, however… ]

Please allow me to go first.

[ The bizarre material spreading across their limbs is a clear warning that remaining in this house longer than necessary is a danger, but so is diving recklessly towards the distant ground. Better to test it first rather than risk them both. ]

Once I’ve landed, I’ll find a way to signal so you know it’s safe to follow.

iii. network; text (un: dimitri)

[ The Fluid is truly a fascinating device. Sturdy, compact, and entirely unlike anything found throughout Fódlan.

It is also, as the time spent painstakingly typing this entry proves, a source of unexpected challenges. He had thought text would be the least disruptive option, reminiscent in some regards to the simple act of letter writing. A woeful underestimation of the task. ]

Hello?

Ah. Please ignore the unnecessary question mark.

This is my first time handling such unique technology and I am not yet familiar with the full capabilities. That being said, I wanted to express my gratitude for the documentation provided. Were it not for the comprehensive guide, I fear I would be entirely lost.

Are there similar instructions available for the other devices present? If so, where would they be found?

Otherwise, any assistance on the purpose and usage of these items would be appreciated. I am happy to offer my own skills as payment for this exchange as well.

With thanks,

Dimitri

wildcard

[ Interested in another starter? Just let me know! I'm reachable through PM or over plurk @ solarias. ]

ii. going down?

[bowliever]

[Lev is already leaning outside of the opening, trying to get a sense for what to anticipate in the jump that he's already certain that he has to take. When a voice speaks behind him, he looks over at the man who is offering to jump first.]

Hmm, I don't think there's a way to signal anything. Otherwise we'd probably see other people. Or at least their bodies, right?

[Grim for a kid, apparently.]

I know this is the way to go.

Cable | XMCU | CRAU

[morepouches]

Those Pesky Kids
[ Cable doesn't give a fuck what stupid thing is haunting him. Moving around a fork or hiding his utility pouch is one thing, but now his daughter's bear is missing and he's out for fucking blood.

He doesn't believe in stupid fucking ghosts, but what he does believe in is a wide array of Mutant powers that could be used to poke the proverbial bear.

Too bad they chose the wrong fucking bear.

As soon as he sees it's gone, he charges out into the street in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants and wielding his impossibly large and complicated gun. All the metal parts of his chest and arm are on full display and he gives exactly zero shits about that right now. ]

I'm going to sever your hands and shove them down your throat!

Wildcard
[ Down for whatever. Note: Cable's a CRAU from Duplicity, but it's made very little difference to his personality. He's still just Cable at heart. ]

[honeybadgered]

[Gabby stares because even for her, it's not every day a massive shirtless part-metal dude comes charging out and threatens dismemberment. Admittedly, she's not sure she's who the threat is meant for, since, well, she's a thirteen year old girl and she doesn't look even a quarter as tough as she actually is.

But she recognizes this particular massive partially-metal dude, so she grins and holds her hands out.]

Okay!

Madoka Kaname | Puella Magi Madoka Magica

[protectshope]

I. Arrival

I.A Wandering Town
[It felt strange to walk on her old feet. Madoka hadn't looked 'like this' in quite some time. Her pigtails were shorter and her hair ribbons were yellow, not red. She had given those red ones away when she last saw Homura.

Yet, here she is. Her kidnapping doesn't alarm Madoka in the same way it might another: She trusts that she is only a piece of her wish. As long as that wish came true, the Law of the Cycle will always exist. If she was kidnapped, she'd spawn again in the same way that she respawns to destroy her own Soul Gem. There was no one to miss her, no one to recognize she was gone, and therefore no one to hurt over her kidnapping.

What was strange was how she existed at all. This should have been impossible. Townspeople looked at her, with their eyes, like she was a real being. At one point, she had pet a dog. Madoka even made a purchase at a store, buying herself some band-aids in case anyone looked hurt (or if she fell, as she often does.)]

How strange... The buildings don't all looked like they're loved. [She observes, standing in front of the police station in particular.] Does crime just not happen here..?

I.B Hart Mart
[What does it say about her that her feet walked her to a convenience store? Surely nothing good. But here she is, walking up and down aisles with a puzzled look on her face. Madoka hasn't eaten in ages. Well, eaten more than the food in that jar. Not that she minds, of course! Her job as the Law of the Cycle keeps her busy and that body doesn't need food.

But man. Has she ever missed chocolate?? She's in the candy section before she can question herself, finger tracing the labels of old fashioned American sweets. After a few seconds, she gives an uneasy giggle.]

What am I even doing..? Chocolate should be the least of my concerns. [She smiles sadly at the display.] I wonder if these taste funny? I've heard American candy is super sweet. [which makes her want it more....]

I. Dollhouse Life

[Madoka was, at first, kind of enchanted by all of this. She's always wanted a dollhouse. Hitomi had one, but it was so fancy that Madoka only dared to look... Now she's inside of one! This is amazing! The furniture is so 'small' and oddly intricate, the paper lining the walls is kinda lame, and the books are out of reach in a new way.

She's delighted to wander around, admiring the rooms. That is, until she reaches for a plastic teacup and discovers that her finger won't bend. It's stuck pointing (very rude,) and has a porcelain shine to it. Madoka recoils her hand, examining it with an expression more confused than alarmed.]

Did I hurt it...? Hm. [She holds the finger at eye level,] It looks... Plastic?! [Porcelain. But the feeling of panic would be the same.]

Dollhous Life

[trancheuse]

UGH! Damnit!

[Bang crash. There was a sound from the next room as someone flopped out of the bed and groaned, getting to her feet only a little after waking. Oh, for Roy's sake. It was a blasted doll house. She was in a doll house. you had to be kidding her.

Yanking the door open, she caught sight of a pink haired girl staring at her upturned finger like it was really curious and blinked.]

Ehhhhh? What're you looking at there?

Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor | Red, White and Royal Blue

[hisroyalheretic]

[ Arrival - closed to Alex ]

[ Henry isn't accustomed to the idea of falling asleep in one place and waking up somewhere entirely new. That sort of thing speaks to a catastrophic failure in his security, after all.

And yet, here he is doing exactly that. Henry jerks awake stretched out on a couch that isn't quite long enough for him, one leg dangling over empty air. It's only for a moment before the prince of wales falls off the damn thing onto the floor with a resounding thump that is impossible to miss. ]

What the hell...?

[ Henry staggers to his feet, still clad in the clothes he fell asleep in as he takes in his surroundings properly. This is not his rooms in Kensington Palace, this isn't anything he's ever seen before in his life. Everything has the surreal feeling that comes from waking up from a nap and he heads for the nearest doorway in order to figure out where the fuck he is and what exactly is going on.

Surprise, Alex. Did you order a boyfriend delivery? ]


[ Dollhouse ]

You have got to be joking.

[ If it's a joke, it happens to be a rather poor one. Henry pulls books off of a nearby bookshelf and scowls as he realizes each one is a hollow block with nothing on the inside. There is a metaphor somewhere in that but he's too frustrated to give it more than a passing thought. Poetry and metaphor comes after escape in every scenario. ]

Have you found anything that might be a way out?

[ He tries not to sound demanding, tries to take deep breaths even as he realizes that his hands are beginning to feel... stiffer, less dexterous than they were only fifteen minutes ago. ]

I don't know how long we have but I think the sooner we get out of here, the better.


[ Around town ]

[ If there is one thing that Henry is absolutely positive will never lose the shine of novelty, it is walking around Deerington without any personal security following him about. Over the years he's entertained endless fantasies of being just a regular person instead of a prince but he's never for a moment expected anything to come of those dreams.

So being able to walk down the street free of escorts or security is a luxury he's not willing to pass up. He can be found aroundm familiarizing himself with the local sights and scenery. More often than not he can be found haunting the bookstore and any coffee shops in proximity of it. Some things don't change even after he's been whisked away to another world. ]

[ wildcard ]

[ Exactly what it says on the tin. If there's something you want to do with Henry, feel free to hit me up for it either via pm or at blackskymetro! ]

[bisexualdisaster]

[In Alex's defense, this place frequently tries to murder him. Also he's definitely provoked at least one Sith Lord into wanting him dead. So when he hears a thump, he grabs the lacrosse stick he's acquired and raises it over his shoulder. It won't be enough to save him if Maul is really here to attack him, but hey, better than going down empty handed.

He's currently wearing nothing but boxers, and he crouches by the door, ready to swing the stick at the intruder. The door starts to open, and he swings.

...he's going to be very sorry in about two seconds.]

Charlie Emily | The Fourth Closet

[springlock]

one: arrival + pesky kids

[ Charlie is exhausted. She remembers John's apartment, with John and Jessica and Marla, their voices lilting around her as she slept. At first, they had seemed like a dream, like Aunt Jen, like the box, but then her dreams had changed. There was a forest, a deer, and sharp rocks in her back, and...

Charlie doesn't wake up immediately, too back and forth between consciousness. When she does finally wake, she's surprised at first to find that she's completely alone, then suddenly she sits up in bed, seeing that the world around her is completely unfamiliar to her.

It isn't John's apartment, and it isn't her dad's house, either. She guesses that shouldn't be surprising, as she reminds herself with a sort of pang that her father's house is a pile of rubble now. A pile of rubble atop of a vast, confusing underground complex that she hasn't gotten a second to even think about before waking up in a completely new, completely foreign place.

Without hesitation, Charlie whips off the covers, leaves the bedroom, and finds her way quickly out of the house. The streets are even more confusing. One look outside and Charlie knows it's not just that she's not at John's apartment anymore, but that she isn't in Hurricane anymore. Is this even Utah? Maybe somewhere up at a higher elevation...

But Charlie barely gets a moment to think about it before she sees movement down the street, a shambling shape moving towards a person walking away from her. The person doesn't see the shape, stalking towards them, and Charlie feels her chest tighten. Without thinking, she runs after them, and sees the shape raising a twisted-looking arm, ready to strike towards the person walking away. ]

Look out! [ She screams this as loudly as she can, fear washing over her in a wave so high it could have knocked her over. Her hands twitch, wishing she had some kind of weapon, before spotting a large stick in a nearby yard, under a tree. It isn't much at all, certainly not the baseball bat she'd hoped to find when her eyes scanned the nearby porches, but it will have to do. Charlie rushes to grab it, turning to look back at the shape and the person it had reached to attack. Her heart is pounding in her chest.

Well, she feels like it is, at least. ]


two: the evil dollhouse

[ It's only been a short time here, but when Charlie wakes in yet another unfamiliar room, she almost wants to scream.

Instead, she rises from her bed, looks around, and realizes quickly that everything around her is... different.

It had taken getting used to the 1950s look of everything around her. The style was far from the 90s looks of things she was used to, and she hadn't realized how many things she took for granted. But as she looks across the new room, she knows that the things around her aren't just different, they're ... somehow not right.

Slowly getting out of bed, Charlie crosses the room, towards the dresser, and reaches for one of the knobs. But the drawer doesn't pull out. In fact, none of them do. The dresser appears to be one piece of wood, shaped to look like it has drawers and knobs.

She's in a dollhouse.

Charlie doesn't notice any change to her for a while. She begins to explore the house around her, its strange features and unsettling decor, until the very real fact that she cannot figure out how to leave becomes apparent.

Charlie sits on the hard couch in the dollhouse's downstairs living room, putting her face in her hands. But she jolts back when the smooth skin of her face touches cold, hard things that can't possibly be her hands, because she hadn't felt anything touch her hands at all. As she stares down at her own palms, though, Charlie sees that her hands are... changing.

She remembers her childhood doll, Ella, coming out on her track, the teacup and saucer in her small, cold, porcelain hands. Charlie wants to throw up, and those same cold hands clap over her mouth, trying to keep her sick in.

She has to get out of here. She's so focused on that that she doesn't hear anyone else reach the bottom of the stairs and enter the living room. Her hands are still pressed against her mouth, and she's breathing deeply, slowly, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

The last time she'd thought like this (I have to get out of here, now), it had been in a decaying, abandoned pizzeria.

That thought certainly isn't bringing her any comfort, but if she'd survived that, she could survive this too, couldn't she? Except that she'd had help then. She hadn't been alone. ]



three: wildcard!

[ Feel free to start with or request a specific prompt! ]

pesky kids

[measuringdicks]

[The monster is not the first monster that has tried to stalk Richie around town this week. In fact, it’s not even the first monster to take a personal interest in Richie, that would be the murderous sewer clown all the way back in Derry, but that was a real monster. This one?

The second Charlie gets in between them, the monster actually freezes, as if weighing its chances against an armed Sleeper. Then it turns on its tail to run away, dropping something in its wake.

Richie watches all this while munching on an ice cream bar.]

That’s a pretty shitty monster. [Munch, munch.] Usually you have to actually hit them before they get the picture and fuck off.

Nico di Angelo | Camp Half-Blood Chronicles

[obitus]

Arrival (Graveyard)

When you're a demigod, you get real accustomed to getting magically tossed around the world by capricious gods with unknowable agendas, so really it's not the new location that's freaking Nico out, it's that no one has shown up to demand anything from him yet and it has been almost a full day. Very... not like the gods he knows. He's only relieved for a little while before it starts getting straight up worrisome.

So after attempting to return to camp doesn't work, and trying to head to the Underworld to get Hades' opinion is likewise ineffective (and leaves him feeling strange and disconnected and terribly uncomfortable, but let's not get into any of those), he gravitates towards the place in town that feels the most like home. Namely, the graveyard.

Listen, he is nothing if not a strong believer in staying On Brand.

The fact that the graveyard is a muggy swamp now is inconvenient and, you know, really disrespectful, but it's not enough to stop him. He abandons his shoes and socks on a relatively dry patch of sidewalk almost all the way back up by the church, rolls his pants up the best he can given the fact that they're jeans, and then wades in with a sword still strapped to his belt.

Arrival (Hart Mart)

Alas, graveyards aren't enough to sustain grumpy goth boys, no matter how good they are for the aesthetic, so a few hours later finds Nico in the Hart Mart leaving muddy footprints up and down the isles. His sneakers have been tied to his sword belt by their shoelaces, and his black jeans are still rolled up to mid-calf but have clearly gotten soaked to up past the knees, and he doesn't seem chilly even though the refrigerated section is on full blast behind him and he's just in an old, worn out black t-shirt with skulls on the chest.

He's very busy, see, looking wistfully at the Twinkies. "These are kinda like bread, right?" And therefore, you know, free?

Dollhouse

Not that Nico really makes a habit of having good times, but he is certainly not experiencing one right now. His sword has been fused into its sheath, which is just plastic now, and all of his attempts to slip into the shadows and teleport himself the hell out of the dollhouse have so far been ineffective.

And he's nervous about it, which means he's leaking an aura of fear and death around himself and every room he stalks between. Like the hair standing up on the back of a neck, hearing footsteps when no one else is home, just an added layer of creepiness to the whole existential terror of slowly turning into one of the porcelain dolls sitting at the table. Nico only stops looking like an angry ghost stalking through the house when he has walked through most of it already and it has started to get harder to move his fingers.

Mostly because it really does shatter the illusion when he throws back his head and shouts, "what do you even want?!" Like he's expecting a deeply annoying godly face to poke itself into the windows and actually answer, instead of fellow people who are stuck in the dollhouse with him.

Wildcard

[Throw me a starter if none of these appear or PM me and we can work something else out! I'm open to anything.]

Dollhouse

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus comes running when he hears a teenager shouting from the next room over, an odd combination of concerned that something bad might be happening, glad that he's not alone in this strange dollhouse, and maybe a little hopeful that someone else has found something that seems responsible for all this. He finds the boy seemingly alone, which quashes that last part, but also takes care of the first too, at least mostly.

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one here," says Orpheus, fiddling with the strap of his now-stringless balsa wood guitar nervously. "Are you all right? Do you know what's going on here?"

Orpheus hasn't seen this young man around before, but it's not like he knows all the Sleepers in Deerington yet. He could've been around longer than Orpheus has, for all he knows.

Kristoff Bjorgman | Frozen

[arendelicious]

ARRIVAL

[ Strange sights probably aren't something Deerington isn't use to, but Kristoff isn't unaware of the weird looks he's still getting. Apparently none of the townsfolk have ever seen a full grown man gripping the harness of a giant caribou, digging his feet into the pavement as he tries to pull him away from the entrance to the Hart Mart.

Especially not when the two seem to be having an argument. Sort of. ]

Sven, no! Stop it! Bad reindeer! [ He feels his feet slide a little further and bends his knees to try and get better leverage, his words spaced out between heavy tugs to drag the animal backward. ] We're not— going— into the— creepy store— in a creepy town!

[ The reindeer huffs, turning to finally look at Kristoff as he stomps his hooves on the ground. Kristoff lets go of the harness, his shoulders deflating slightly, and his voice drops a pitch or two as he... talks... for Sven.

This is normal. ]

But there's carrots in there.

Yeah, I know, buddy. But I don't think eating strange food in a place we don't even know is safe yet is the brightest idea. We'll find... some other way to get you carrots.

[ He just doesn't know how yet.

This idea apparently isn't good enough, as after giving him a long, unimpressed look, Sven turns back to try and march into the Hart Mart again, leaving Kristoff to scramble after him to get a hold of his harness just as he gets to the door, not noticing how they might be making it a lot harder for people to get in. Or out, for that matter. ]

DOLLHOUSE

[ A little over three years ago, Kristoff never would have even seen a dollhouse to know what was going on. He'd have thought giants or a shrinking spell (the latter still isn't ruled out) and he'd wonder why someone would want to keep an entire house in their sitting chambers. But this isn't as foreign now that he's seen the childhood toys that Elsa and Anna grew up with, and he's only... mildly creeped out as he pokes at one of the dolls at the kitchen table, watching it topple out of its chair and land with a small cracking sound on the floor.

Oops.

He goes to carefully pick it up and place it back in its seat, muttering all the while. ]

One week without some weird kind of magic curse. That's all I'm asking. One week.

WILDCARD

[[ If neither of these appeal to you, feel free to bring your own scene! He's from after the events of Frozen 2. ]]

Arrival

[droptheious]

[You know, Varian was only taking a stroll. That's all he was doing. He wasn't expecting to come across a crazy reindeer man on his way home- but sometimes life is just Like That. He watches the theatrics between the two of them for a moment.

Atop his shoulders, Ruddiger chitters at him. Varian shrugs. ]

I don't know why he's doing the voice either. Maybe he's crazy.

[Then, a little louder, so the crazy reindeer man can hear him:]

Uh- the store's pretty harmless. I don't think anything'll attck you in there.

Albert Wesker / Resident Evil (video game series) [CWs on prompts]

[subject_013]

Permissions/Opt-in


1. THOSE PESKY KIDS

1.1: Who Goes There? (Arrival) [CW: Stalkerish behaviour]

Something might rustle in the next room, followed by a creak as of someone getting up from a bed and their footsteps moving about a room, taking it in

A voice whispers, like a ghostly warning. The footsteps stop mid-stride, as if the intruder in the next room has detected another intruder.

“I would leave as you’ve requested, but I’ve only just arrived,” says a husky male voice, with a playful yet dangerous lilt to the words, as if a tiger had become human and decided to cajole its prey. “Allow me to choose the path I’m going to follow?”

Stepping into the room reveals the speaker as a tall, lean but robust blond man, clad in a black turtleneck jersey over black dress slacks, sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing a very fresh-looking antler tattoo, his back to the door as he examines the items on a table against one wall, a few sheets of paper in one black leather gloved hand. Though for the moment, he’s turned his attention toward the bed.

A noise like chains dragging on a floor rattles in the wall behind the bed. He might gather himself a bit, like an alert

Though on hearing someone approach, he may look over his shoulder, though it may not seem like he’s looking directly at the interloper, due to the dark sunglasses he wears.

“Did you hear that noise?” he asks, in a husky baritone voice, clearly desiring confirmation.


2.2: Out on the Street [CW: Stalkerish behaviour, misanthropy]

He’d gone out for some supplies that afternoon, most notably looking for a couple bottles of red wine, as he can’t help thinking he’s going to need something with substance to process everything going on, but not so strong it fogs the process. His initial recon of the town has mostly been that: getting the lay of the place and committing it to memory. Also it serves to establish his cover: the man in black about town, one of the newcomers but no one to suspect. Its not entirely unlike the two years he spent hiding in plain sight in Raccoon City. He may not be the man he was then, but one can fall back on old patterns when the need arises. The shadows have started to lengthen, early even for this time of year when the nights grow longer. Odd. But so much about this place seems odd, which may well facilitate hiding in plain sight.

Something groans behind him. He doesn’t slow down to listen, it’s a sound he’s heard so often that he barely hears it any longer. A figure shambles past his peripheral vision, ducking into the shade of a large maple tree, its oddly gilded foliage (odd, for what appears to be Maine, unless this is a new variant or the result of someone’s experimentation), hiding behind the thick trunk. Best not to let the interloper know they’ve been spotted. He continues walking at the same pace, shifting his brown bag of supplies from one arm to the other.

Footsteps shuffle behind him as he passes a bookstore. Another, louder groan rises. This would raise the hairs on the back of another’s neck, but as unsettling as this might be, he’s long since learned to keep fear from mastering him. Even still, where did this thing come from and why is it following him?

He glances over his shoulder, just enough to see something in a shabby grey suit, it’s greenish-grey face smeared with red, shuffle behind the corner of a building or perhaps a tree trunk. Well. That better not be what he thinks it is, and not as most people would frame the sentiment. If it is what he thinks it is, why hasn’t it tried to attack him? Or can it smell something on him?

To the next passerby, he asks, trying to sound concerned, but there’s likely a hint of Dull Surprise as well, though he could be so put off by the sight that it’s flattened his affect.

“Was that a zombie ducking out of sight behind me?”


2. Network – un:A_Wesker

[Audio]

[A throaty, male-sound voice speaks, with what sounds like either an upper-crust New England accent or an aristocratic British accent.]

If I might venture an inquiry: Is there anywhere that one might post a resume? Since there’s no easy way out of this place and it doesn’t appear that any of us, myself included, are likely to ‘wake up’ from it any tine soon, one may as well fill the time to the best of ones ability. That said, if there’s any place looking for an ...involuntarily furloughed biochemistry researcher with a double doctorate in genetics and virology, please contact me via this message? However, don’t address me as ‘Doctor Wesker’. It keeps people from getting ideas that require awkward explanations. In other words: unless you have an infectious illness and it’s linked to a cluster of similar cases, I’m not the sort of Doctor you need.

[A pause, then a soft in-breath, as if he’s gauging how to phrase the next question.]

Also, I have to ask, is there something in the air in this locality which induces hallucinations or are we truly seeing ghosts? The supernatural rarely made its presence known in the world I awoke from, and therefore… These sights fall outside the usual range of experience. Anything else that appeared supernatural had a scientific explanation.

Wildcard

{{Feel free to toss a starter on here if nothing catches your attention, or PM me on the account if you want to set up something. As horrible a human as he can be – if you’d even consider him still human – he’s going to be on his best behaviour for the time being, the better to hide in plain sight….))

2.2

[boyobscured]

It's far enough before Credence's shift at the theatre that he has time to run errands. So he's out doing that when Wesker stops him on the street. He's more or less used to that happening, really. New people show up in Deerington pretty regularly, and everyone always has questions. He certainly did when he arrived. He sometimes still does, because it's not as if anything is ever still or quiet in this town for more than a few days.

There have been some sorts of...things...moving around. But Credence hasn't seen one, really, and all he's heard is mostly noises he can't follow or make out entirely. He chalks it up to just one more Deerington thing.

He glances up at Wesker when he asks the question.

"Zombie?" he asks. He's heard the word, but only a few times. Walking dead, right? That's what a zombie is. "I...don't know. I didn't see anything. It would be strange to just see one, wouldn't it?" The last time he heard anything about zombies in this town, there was definitely more than one.

Jake Epping | 11/22/63

[welltravelled]

Arrival - dearly diner

Jake knows exactly where he is. He's in Maine, again, for some godforsaken reason, and from the looks of things around him, it's not 2011. Doesn't quite look like 1963 either. If he could figure out who was president, that would narrow it down, but... no one he'd tried to talk to so far has seemed really interested in speaking with him. He'd had a couple false starts with people he'd seen in the streets, and really, as he's learned, there's no casual way to ask someone questions he should know the answers to.

So he does what he knows how to do best - he steps into the local diner.

The place reminds him of Al's in some ways, but it has more people in it than Al's ever seemed to. He sticks his hands in his pockets, finds some good old 1950s cash in there, and sits down at the diner's bar area, smiling at the waitress behind the counter.

Everybody smiles more in the past, he's learned that much. And by now, he's kind of gotten adjusted to it, too.

"That food smells amazing," he says to the person sitting next to him, because random conversation is a little more acceptable back then (now?), too, and Jake's still operating like he's stepped through another portal. He's a little jarred and needs to get his bearings, sure, but this isn't his first waltz either. "Have you been here before? I'm new in town, myself."


the dollhouse

This, he knows, is not somewhere he got by stepping through a portal - or if it was, it was a different portal than he'd been through before.

Jake's gone through the house, calmly enough, looking for any clues to why he was there or for a way out. So far, he's found nothing but plastic furniture and the terrifying prospect of the gigantic living room outside the windows. Even if he does get out, where exactly is he going to go?

He's starting up the stairs again to sweep the second floor for clues when he notices his knees feel a little painful, a little harder to move. He stares down at his legs, troubled, but forces his way back up the stairs.

As he does, he may run into someone else, waking up in the dollhouse for the first time, or looking around on their own.

arrival

[measuringdicks]

That person might be a mite older than the last time Jake saw him, and certainly much more modern-looking—Richie’s taken to modern-day fashion like a duck to water, and band t-shirts and jeans make a much more frequent appearance on him than they used to. But when he looks up at Jake, it’s unmistakably Richie from the ditchie, eating a waffle drenched in maple syrup.

“Oh, no, I’m new in town too,” says Richie. “But I got friends here who told me about this place, so here I am.” He pops a bit of waffle into his mouth, chews, swallows. “For a shitty nightmare town outta some horror movie, they make some fucking great waffles.”

Reaper (John Grimm) | DOOM

[c24]

Dollhouse — Meet Cute

You've got to be shitting me... [ There might've been more bite to those words twelve hours ago, but Reaper is too mentally exhausted for passion. Deadpan will have to suffice for now as he stares out the window of a three-storey house, where broken concrete and budding weeds should be. Instead he finds carpet and furniture the size of aircraft carriers. If this is an anxiety dream, he doesn't appreciate the metaphors.

In the distance something creaks, and Reaper goes from befuddled to frosty in a heartbeat. Sam. It's an easy sound to isolate with his newfound capabilities. He can hear the world as never before, see it, and smell it, and taste it like he's been reborn.

His assault rifle is poised to fire as he quickly assesses the hallway, then the next bedroom. No one around. Reaper follows the cutesy dollhouse hallway down and hears the same creak again to the left. With a calming breath, he turns the corner and aims at what he finds—a person. ]

Who are you?

Dollhouse — Escaped (cw: body mutilation)

[ Reaper didn't expect to make it out of the dollhouse after he had shattered his arm from a fall down the second-floor staircase. Now his open socket of a shoulder had begun shedding chips of porcelain behind him, like a trail of breadcrumbs, as he and his newfound comrade scaled a bookshelf to reach the attic and beyond.

He didn't think things could get much worse now that they were out of the frying pan— that is, until they jumped into the fire.

As a porcelain doll he had felt hardly any pain. His busted shoulder was a dull inconvenience. But tumbling down to a shifting world and into grass (he fucking knew there had to be grass down here!), he finds himself once again fleshy—and in a world of hurt. ]

Fuck! Ohh, fuck me— [ Shock sets in quickly; a blessed relief as he squirms like a fish in the grass. ]

Around Deerington

[ A bar seemed like a good idea. It's dark, no one hassles you, and there's liquor. But after three glasses of top-shelf scotch, he's feeling a whole lot of nothing. Now sits a fourth in front of him on the bar counter. Reaper stares at it long and hard, considering if it's even worth the effort of drinking it at this point. ]

Meet Cute

[bluesteal]

[ Neal is on a search of his own, only vaguely aware of the sound of another person moving around. He doesn't expect trouble — this is a dollhouse for God's sake — so when he comes around the corner to try to meet his companion and he's faced with a gun... ]

Whoa, whoa!

[ His hands immediately fly up into a prone surrender, eyes widening into large, round, very blue points of obvious concern. He detests guns and especially hates having them pointed at him. ]

I'm just a guy. No threat, I swear!

[ In fact, he's practically the opposite of a threat, all things considered. Sure he's a really great shot, but when push comes to shove, Neal would sooner hide than push, shove, or shoot. ]

Avantika | Critical Role | OTA

[damndreamchaser]

A. Around Town/Arrival

[On one hand, Avantika's no longer in manacles, which is a plus. Having her wounds mysteriously patched up is also rather convenient. On the other, this entire situation is an unknown, which doesn't sit well with her at all. She was more unsettled than outright frightened, at least for now; this was reason for exploration, not panic.

And so she finds herself wandering the streets of Deerfield, eyes wide, rapier in hand. This, to her, is a new world. If you're lucky, you might just witness an eleven pirate looking quizzically at a parked car, poking at it with her foot before finally speaking in a French-like accent.]

-the fuck?

B. Dollhouse

[Back in the attic after her initial search of the house, Avantika's eyes fall back to the doll pieces lying shattered on the floor. She'll pick one up to examine it, turning it over in her hands, before glancing back at whoever happens to be in the room with her.]

I think our little family downstairs has some secrets.

C. Other
[Have a different idea? Go for it.]

b) yesss avantika. With a yo ho ho and an Ukatooooa

[glitchinthesystem]

[ He really hates being in this place. He already lived out the nightmare of turning into a toy last month and now it might happen again? No, no thanks.

Still, he looks over to the woman he's joined by in the attic as she brings up dolls from downstairs. He raises a brow before his eyes go to the pieces of broken porcelain. Kicking at them, he looks back to the woman; ]

So. Should we like go smash them to bits until they let us out?

Because I'm all for that fucking plan. [ Even if there were some good toys in this town didn't mean these ones were, and if it's something caused by this nightmare town he's totally fine with breaking them. ]

Daughter Dooley | Old Gods of Appalachia

[hollerwitch]

I. Arrival
[These woods are different. She knows it as soon as she steps into them, reaching out for the Green. It's there, curling up and around her, but there's a sickness to it, too. Pulsing, pitch black vines that rope through the trees and snake on the ground. There is sickness here, a wrongness ages old that wants fixing. She's one witch, and a powerful one to be sure, but still one.

She'll need a home out here properly, one away from the folk in town. Finding the right spot for it is proving a challenge though. Wherever she goes, she seems to encounter people in the woods. She's never seen many eager to wander into the wilds when there's a place like that town. She's used to the odd hunter, but this? It's practically a thoroughfare out here.]

Have mercy upon me, but is there anywhere people aren't trampling through like cattle to the river?

[The demand is to whomever she's found in her latest hunt for a spot to set up camp. She's a woman dressed in frontier garb, leather armor over linens and her furs stowed on the pack she's carrying. One hand rests on her hip, and her lips are twisted in some annoyance.]


II. Dollhouse
[Now Edie and Catie Dooley didn't raise no fool. Their daughter has known almost as much of her life as a changed thing as not. She'd seen her body going younger, loosing all marks of her womanhood thanks to that twisted bargain she'd made with the stag. And this? This is no curse she's led herself to.

That doesn't mean she can ignore it and hope it gets better. So, she hunts through the house, searching for ways out, testing doors and windows until she hears movement behind her. The woman throws a glance over her shoulder, face gone stiff on one side as the porcelain's taken her.]

Where've you searched, then? No sense as us looking in the same place twice.

((Feel free to hit me up on Plurk for anything specific at switalia.))

Arrival!

[obitus]

[Nico has done a lot of roughing it over the years, but he's certainly not out here looking to set up a house when there are actual beds in town and no one hates him enough to have kicked him out of it yet. He just found himself drawn to the snaking darkness clinging to the trees and the forest floor, the pull of nature sickening and twisting, not dying exactly but certainly becoming... worse. He doesn't have her expertise, but his instinct for following it is unnervingly good, and all his other attempts to slip into the shadows of the town and leave this place have been ineffective, so what if he just needs to find darker, deeper shadows? Something that's got the same flavor of magic that he has under his skin, death and the Underworld, very old and very powerful despite the fact that he appears to be just an unimpressive, skinny teenager.

It's probably a bad idea, at the very least it's a dangerous one, but he's at his wits end here.

Once he gets called out by the woman wandering nearby he crosses his arms over his chest and turns to squint at her, trying for aloof but mostly hitting petulant instead, having not really expected to be noticed. Not that he's blending in with anything out here in his ever fashionable sneakers, black jeans and a t-shirt with skulls on it combo, especially not with the big black sword tapped to his belt that he has clearly thwacked against some of the foliage given at least one muddy leaf stuck to the broadside of the sheath, but those are minor details.] Is that what you're doing, too?

Yuichiro Hyakuya l Owari no Seraph

[wieldless]

Possible content warnings include: human experimentation, attempted murder of a child, actual murder of multiple children, vampires and the associated blood drinking and such, children used as livestock for their blood by said vampires, apocalypse with a virus outbreak.

Arrival:

[Yuu is initially in his blood stained white and black livestock uniform from Sanguinem when he wakes up. It seems to reinforce to him that it all hadn't just been a dream that the others were killed by Ferid as they had tried to escape. He wakes up crying. Before he glances around and notes the unfamiliar surroundings. The quiet. That it isn't Sanguinem. That Akane and the rest weren't waking him up or anything. He pokes around the room, finding the basket, pocketing the things in it and basically all but devouring the jar of food because it was so rare for them to get actual food back in Sanguinem and all. He finds a change of clothes in the wardrobe and changes, shoving his uniform in the rubbish bin before heading off to explore.

He's cautious, and there's a definite weight and shape of the old fashioned gun he has in his hoodie pocket as he makes his way around while using the map to explore some further from his accommodation. The moment he steps outside, he is all but blinded by the sun. Not having really seen it in years back home. He all but jumps back from the heat and light of it, before basking in it with a smile as he walks.]

I missed the sun....! The blue sky. Clouds!

Doll House:

[Yuu explores. Frowning and pouting when he can't seem to open the main front door. Or any windows to try climb through. He climbs on the furniture since maybe the lower windows were the only ones he couldn't seem to open? But nope. Yuu starts getting more frustrated. Weirded out when he notices the dolls and spots the seemingly much larger room outside the doll house.

He tries tipping over one of the chairs, to see if he could break it and use the leg of it or something to smash at the window to get out that way. Which is apparently also a no.

The books frustrate him further since that doesn't seem to give any answers when he can't even actually read any of it with them being apparently stuck to the shelf somehow. He pales slightly as he notices his fingers starting to stiffen.]

W-what.....? Why can't I....?

[He pales as the realization starts to sink in. How was this even possible?!]

No. I am not. I vowed to avenge them. I can't just become a doll here. There's gotta be some way back out. I just need to find it!

[Cue Yuichiro stomping around being rather loud as he explores further trying to figure what he had missed. There had to be a way out if there was a way he ended up here after all.]

Those Pesky Kids:

[Because of course somehow, for as confusing as all this was, Yuu still could be easily spooked. Given his past with living underground as livestock for the vampires and all. He thus seems determined in figuring what was going on. If he sees -- or thinks he sees something or someone about to attack him or following him, he will turn and pull out Ferid's gun on them in attempt to intimidate them into fleeing. And he won't hesitate to shoot at them if they don't. He shot Ferid back home. He could pull the trigger again if he had to.]

Leave me alone!

[....yes this is a twelve year old with a gun. And the answer to where he acquired it is that he stole it back home. Or, Mika did and Yuu picked it up after him.]

[bowliever]

[Lev actually wasn't trailing the other kid. He's on the trail of something else and thought perhaps the other Sleeper was as well. He never imagined someone would assume him to be a hunter.

When the gun is pointed at him, he stands from his crouched position and cocks his head at the other boy. Kids with guns isn't uncommon where he's from so he's not surprised at it. But he doesn't feel like the kid actually wants to fire the gun either.

Instead, Lev nods at the woods in the distance behind them and says.]

I wasn't following you. I was following that.

[There's a strange shape moving in the distant woods. A shape that doesn't look human or like any familiar animal.]

felix hugo fraldarius ( fe3h )

[encarnizado]

( arrival )

[ It has been some time since Felix arrived in Deerington. A few weeks, maybe. He's gotten over most of the initial shock, figured out his phone, and stopped expressing muted alarm every time an electric light turns on and off. He's since learned his lesson about staying the hell out of the middle of the road after dealing with a few confrontations, shall we say, with cars.

One thing he hasn't gotten over is television.

For the most part he hasn't bothered with any of the amenities in his own home, choosing to stick to what he knows and live the way he's used to (as much as he can do, considering). But today he is out on an errand, looking as ridiculously out of place as ever in his swordsman attire with a katana strapped to his back, when he passes by one of those TV shops with the displays turned on in the window. He winds up standing there utterly mesmerized, which is highly unlike him, by what's playing: daytime soaps. He has no idea how stupid it is. In fact, he might even think it's something that's really happening somewhere, somehow. (He's not entirely wrong?)

It's a dramatic scene. Josh betrayed Brad by running off with Jessica, and there was a horrible accident and now Jessica is dead. Josh is retaliating by holding Brad's younger brother at gunpoint while standing on the edge of a cliff. It's a whole bunch of shit. And Felix is very uncomfortably invested in this hostage situation he has no control over. It's only if someone comes along to snap him out of it that he looks away, frowning. ]

There's no use in just standing here. This is between the two of them.

( dollhouse )

[ Felix is easy to spot, stalking throughout the dollhouse aggravatedly. His pace is more or less measured, but it's clear by the look on his face that he's becoming increasingly more agitated the longer this hunt for an exit goes on. And it does go on for awhile. He doesn't stop to talk to anyone for the most part, although if he recognizes them or they've got that sort of look about them like they're disciplined, he may abruptly demand: ]

You. What is this place, and how do I get out?

[ ... Buuuut the likelihood of him stopping to talk is highly improbable otherwise. In the meantime, eventually, he finds the lovely little dolly teaparty and all of a sudden his stride stops short. By this point he's started to go a little glassy, if you will, himself. It's enough that when, after a few extended seconds of standing and staring at the dolls, he turns abruptly around to leave and cracks his cheek against the doorframe. It creates a spiderweb fracture right in the center of his cheek and makes a sound just like breaking glass would, but it's hard to say if Felix stops again there in the doorway because it hurts or because he's surprised. The wide-eyed look could go either way. ]

( text post/un: FHF )

I've found a lost cat. She has the name Emergency Rations on her tag. Whoever owns her, come and get her. She won't leave me alone and I can't be bothered with feeding her.

[ spoilers: he can. and he will. ]

Text - UN: Prodigy

[helpdesk_hero]

I don't know who the cat belongs to, but giving it back to them is clearly a mistake.

terry mcginnis ( batman beyond )

[futurebat]

i. the terry prompt

Great. You decide to binge a few horror vids once and you wake up as a doll in some kid's dollhouse. Schway.

[ This is definitely not how he wanted to spend his day around here but, well, looks like he doesn't have much of a choice. Or time for that matter if his porcelain looking hand is anything to go by. Yeah, that's... not good.

He's been around this dollhouse a couple time already and every time he thinks he's found himself a way out, he's met with a dead end and dead eyes from the other dolls in here. He's on his way down the stairs when taking a step down, he finds his leg suddenly a lot more stiff than it should be and... yeah. He sure is going down those stairs with a LOUD tumble.

A smack against the victorian floral wall at the bottom of the stairs, he groans as he rubs at the back of his head and tries to get himself up with these stiff joints he's got going on. ]

Clearly someone's way of telling me I'm not working out enough because... that really hurt.

ii. the batman prompt

[ Even in a dream, it's another night that ends in y for Batman. Schway.

He's been keeping an eye on this one particular rowdy looking duo in masks making their way through the streets of Deerington, having already come to discover "The Authority" here and not gonna lie, it made him a chuckle a bit. From a bat to cats cleaning up the streets. He wonders what Bruce would think of that given his relationship with felines.

But when it doesn't look as if those creepy kitties are going to make their appearance with this particular break-in, that's when he tosses a couple of his batarangs to pin one of their arms to a lamp post and the shoulder of the other's jacket to the wall. ]

Trick or Treat.

[ And there up on the rooftop with his chin propped in the palm of his hand and leg up on the ledge, he looks down to them with a disappointed Batman face. They may not be Jokerz or even The Royal Flush family but still up to no good from the looks of it. Something to do, right? ]

Little early for Halloween aren't you? Or do you guys always look like that?

[ But "The Authority", surprisingly, does show up then and Batman can't help but gesture to the two pinned crooks. ]

Oh, come on! You're totally taking the credit here.

[ He can't believe he's actually arguing with spooky looking cats but, here he is, doing just that. Not like they really care. But with jumping down, he holds his hand out for the batarangs before realizing he's asking cats to get those for him. Right. Just gonna get those himself then. ]

Kinda gonna need these back. Don't really have my source here for more of those.

[ Does he miss Bruce? A mystery. Either way, look, it's Batman! Twirling a red and black batarang around his finger and looking a little sour as he turns on his heel. ]

So much for being vengeance around here.

iii. the wildcard prompt

[ find terry at the arcade or diner while batman will be up on the rooftops because that's what batman does. ]

1

[arclightning]

[ How have they missed each other this whole time? Mako's been exploring the whole house, too, but he's getting pretty stiff and pretty desperate and very much nowhere. Starting to think he needs to work on his detective skills more. Maybe all that time guarding a prince instead of doing his real job made him rusty?

Enough to come running (awkwardly and stiffly) at the sound of a crash, and hold out a hand to poor Terry. ] Or you're just turning into a creepy doll. You okay? Did anything... [ He doesn't wanna say "break," because it's kind of horrifying to think about, but. ]