FEBRUARY 2021 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

FEBRUARY 2021 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to February's Test Drive Meme!

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: Prompt 1; Grimp Reaper image, feelings of being stalked, repeated death, Groundhog Day/Russian Doll themes, talks of car accidents and suicide/murder. Prompt 2; Image of a heart, organs on the outside of the body (heart), very mild body horror.

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

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

BEREFT OF HOPE

The day feels the same as any other in Deerington. You wake up, you go through your routines, you wait to see if something creepy is going to be lurking around every corner, and then you go get breakfast. There's nothing too unusual going on, though sometimes you get the strangest feeling that someone might be looking at you from afar. Watching you. Waiting. For what, who knows, but isn't that just the normal vibe in this town anyway? You're starting to maybe get used to feeling perpetually anxious that you're being stalked. It might not even really make you think much of it at all. You continue to go about your day. Things still go as normal.

Until you die.

Maybe you were hit by a car, or you choked on your morning bagel, or a piano fell on you, or a townsperson who was going off the deep end decided to drag you off and murder you in Deerington Park; however it happens, you absolutely remember dying. The details are a little fuzzy around the edges, but you do remember seeing someone standing near by when it all happened, a shadowy figure you can't quite recall the face of. Maybe that's who had been watching you.

Dying isn't necessary the weird part, though. People die in Deerington all the time and come back remembering the details, usually with a fancy new scar to show off to everyone (or more likely keep desperately hidden because of your trauma ridden guilt). This time, though— this time sticks out. Because you don't go through the normal death process. There's no calming valley with a strange deer, there's no fruit, nothing about it is the way that it's supposed to be. You just were dead one second and now... you're not. Maybe it was a bad dream? You're in your bed, that's usual, but you're in the same clothes (or lack thereof) that you went to bed in the night before. The sun is shining through the window and...

Everything is exactly the same as it was yesterday.

If you've ever been a fan of Bill Murray at home, you can probably guess what's going on here. Or at least have your suspicions. You go about your routine again, you greet some of the same people, you eat the same breakfast (or maybe you switch things up just to try and break the cycle), and you still have that strange feeling of being watched. Every person you meet doesn't remember seeing you before your death and certainly none of them remembering you dying, no matter how public it was. You can try to convince them, but they're probably not going to listen, or they'll think that it's Deerington just fucking with your head again.

So you go outside. Same time, same place. And you die. Again.

Things start to repeat. Some people might start to snap from it and start to try and die in different ways. Some people might try the age old rule of learning from your mistakes, of being a better person, and try to spend the whole day being kind or trying to find some significant moment they're supposed to focus on to make this all better. Some people might just break down after a while and think there is no way out. Because nothing seems to be working. It's happening over, and over, and you're meeting the same people over and over, and you're doing the same things over and over, and you're dying over and over, so what's the point of even getting up out of bed now?

But there is a way to end it; find someone who is going through the same thing. All the other people you've seen, Sleepers or not, have had no recollection of you dying or of this all being a repeat day. Eventually, though, you might start to notice another person who is having the same discussion with another, desperately trying to tell them that this is all happening repeatedly and you can't figure out how to make it stop. When you realize there's another person having the same issue as you, you can start talking to them. Maybe you won't realize what you need to do at first, you might even end up dying together a few times before you finally realize— you have to save the other.

Every day you've died at the exact same time in roughly the exact same place, whether you took your own life or it was done outside of your own control. Prevent your comrade from dying all together until the sun goes down and the cycle will finally be broken for both of you. It just might be hard to do when the forces of the town are pretty hellbent on making sure you both die.

THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART

Happy Valentine's Day! Deerington seems to be trying to get somewhat in the mood of romance this month, the town decorated with hearts and tiny cherub statues and all sorts of delicious displays of chocolate in the windows of most stores. Don't worry! They're just normal chocolates. Eating them will do nothing to you unless you've got problems with controlling your blood sugar levels or an unfortunate allergy. Buy some for your sweetie! There are even some beautiful looking chocolate covered strawberries at the Hart Mart that could be perfect for a romantic evening...

One morning, you'll wake up to a gift wrapped in pink paper with a red bow on a table in your home. It's clearly marked for you and it's from a secret admirer. Did you even know you had a secret admirer? If you choose to not open the gift (this is Deerington, this could obviously be bad news), it will do exactly what one would expect it to in a town like this; the package will follow you. It will show up on your desk at work. It will show up on the counter at the store you frequent. It will show up on a bench. In your car. Next to your bike. On your porch. On your best friend's porch. Anywhere you go, the present will be there. Waiting. You can't ignore it forever.

When you finally cave and open the gift, you'll find a truly fitting present for such a romantic holiday: a heart. It might be human, it might not, but it's still beating. You can watch it pulse, but it's surprisingly neat, no blood to be found anywhere in the box or in the heart itself. It just sits there, thudding away, waiting for you to pick it up. No one really wants to touch a heart, but if you know Deerington, you know this heart probably actually belongs to someone, and if you're new? Well, you're gonna figure out how this all works pretty quickly.

Pick up the heart and you'll get a flash of memory. Someone else's most precious moment. It will be burned in your mind and the heart will start to faintly glow as you hold it. Walk with the beating heart in your hands and it will start to change. The closer you get to who the heart belongs to, the stronger the glow will get, and the faster the heart will beat. Eventually, you'll find them— someone who looks empty, soulless, like a walking ghost more than a person. You can save them by putting the heart back where it belongs— you'll have to use some strong force, but slam the organ against their chest, and it will sink right back into place. Your hand will even go a few inches into their chest before you let go and yank yourself free. There's no scar, no hole, no blood. But the life will come back into the person in one fell swoop, like breathing again after almost drowning.

If you choose not to put their heart back in their chest, they will be forced to do whatever you say so long as you are in possession of their heart; however they will get steadily weaker and by the end of a full day, they will die.

Enjoy your Valentine.

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]

[survivalthroughhate]

I gotta ask.......so what would happen if a character tried to eat the heart?

manabu yuuki - the galaxy railways - ota

[siriusly]

[tl;dr, whomst is this: good space cop boy, too soft, too dumb. labrador retriever with fluffy hair and a gun. punch him.]

o1. main street

A dream, huh...

[what's what the letter said! among some other weird things. Manabu tends to trust things at face-value -- action over intention and all that -- but it's hard to get a full sense of the right of things when it's just words on a paper and a basket full of...stuff.

he left most of it in the house, save for some things that seemed sensible: his gun, of course; the town map, a license, and a couple pieces of dried fruit from a jar. the fruit's not as sensible, but...the mention of having to eat something or else, while being rather more like a kid's ghost story than useful advice, still sat uncomfortably with him enough to do something about it.

he's now walking up main street, following the map to get to the police station. authority figures will help him make sense of things, he figures.

also...]

Er, sorry...?

[what's with people treating him like he's a leper? that's the fifth person to cross the street rather than walk near or past him. at least, as far as he's noticed. quite a few stink-eyes to boot! he frowns, looking down at himself, giving his collar a cursory sniff. no, he's...he doesn't stink, he's sure?

he sighs, picking at the raised collar before startling.]

Wh-?! I--!

[his fingers! they're...disintegrating? or is it just the gloves it--no, oh no, that's...

the map goes sailing out of his hands while Manabu flusters, yanking his glove off and watching in horror as his fingers appear to be crumbling to fine dust in the air.]


o2. police dept cw: racism, police violence

I'm just asking if you'd-- GNUH-!

[a tightly-clenched fist rams itself into Manabu's middle, knocking the wind and words right out of him, causing his eyes to water and his knees to buckle. he slumps onto the sidewalk, catching himself by his hands before he can really eat the pavement, left to wheeze while the officer sniffs and remarks on his so called "uppity behavior."

Manabu grits his teeth, furious, but still unable to get enough breath for a retort, save for the glare he shoots up. that seems message enough, and it seems he's about to meet a boot to the head for his trouble.]



o3. a message post online

This isn't the REAL planet Earth, is it? Does it go by a different name? Or is it just that because of dream stuff?


o4. wildcard
[show me the world, shining shimmering, etc.]

o3.

[subject_013]

It's adjacent to Earth or one version of it, so I doubt a different name would apply. From what we know of the nature of the place, it appears to be a sub-dimension attached to a spot in the state of Maine.

Soubi Agatsuma | Loveless | OTA

[pinnedwings]

important: Soubi's warnings and opt-out page; happy to match your style.

Bereft of Hope
[cw: blood, death, feelings of being stalked]

The first time it happens is a bad dream. The second time is cause for concern. The third is cause for dread.

Every time, Soubi wakes up back in his bed, in the same clothes he remembers putting on the day before, none the worse for the wear. But, every day, he dies. The mark on his throat is killing him. Soubi looks at himself in the mirror, but the bandage around his neck is clean and neatly covers the scars there. He tries not going out. He doesn't leave the apartment.

He dies anyway.

He goes out again the next day (same day?) and everything repeats itself. Has he lost his mind? No one that he asks about it believes him, no one seems to remember the horrific scene in the park that keeps playing out. He tries different things: he tries to avoid the places he's been before. He tries to avoid the people he keeps seeing.

Nothing changes. Every day ends the same way. Every morning begins the same way. And every day, it feels like someone is watching as his life fades. He doesn't know who or what it is, but it starts looking familiar. And he is not surprised that it leaves him there to die every time.

Soubi doesn't know how long it's been. He's outside of the cafe he likes, smoking, and waiting for this day to end the way the last five, ten, hundred have. He doesn't know if he is trapped inside his own head or in someone else's manipulated reality. He is considering the difference when he hears it. Someone trying to tell another person that they've died and that they keep dying. He looks side-long, watching the person adamantly trying to explain what's happening to them. In the end, they're brushed off, the same way Soubi has been whenever he tries to ask about what's happening. Whenever he tries to suggest that something is wrong.

He flicks his cigarette to the ground, hesitating for a breath before he pushes away from the wall to approach them.

"I believe you."

Beating Heart
[cw: gore]

A. Finding someone's heart

There is something unnerving about the wrapped gift appearing in his apartment. Soubi ignores it at first, as that seems to be the most reasonable thing to do. He hasn't been here long enough to have a secret admirer, and he hasn't seen Kio anywhere, so he doubts it's from him. And Kio is the only person he knows that would do something that ridiculous.

Well, maybe Yuiko.

But it seems there is no getting away from it. He keeps seeing the same box around town, no matter where he goes. Innocuous, wrapped in pink tissue paper, and waiting for him. There is something unnerving and sinister about that. The gift, whoever it is from, underestimates Soubi's ability to ignore things he doesn't like.

He manages to go days without acknowledging it.

When it appears at the table he likes in a cafe, however, Soubi thinks there will be no getting rid of it until he does something about it. There is the brief temptation to throw it into the lake or destroy it somehow, but then he looks at the label. Secret admirer is written in familiar handwriting and that gives him pause.

Finding a beating heart is--unexpected. For a long moment, he sits there, holding the lid of the box and looking down at the lump of muscle still pulsing as if it's alive. He thinks, unbidden, of a cat. This is the sort of gift a cat might leave, possibly after playing with the original owner of the heart to death.

Seimei.

Soubi sets the lid aside and reaches in to pick up the heart. The memory that hits him is not his own: it is warm, tender. He nearly drops the heart and realizes, as the moment passes, that it's glowing.

He leaves the cafe carrying the heart in the tissue paper it came in, having left the box itself behind. It hasn't stopped glowing. If anything, as he moves, the pulse picks up. Soubi pauses, then starts moving back in the direction he came. The heart slows again. This is quite possibly the most grim version of hot-or-cold he's ever played. But he feels compelled to play it all the same.

[Soubi has someone's heart!! He's likely to return it. Let me know what memory he might have seen and feel free to come across him.]

B. Find his heart

He woke up feeling strange. Empty. More empty than he remembers. Soubi goes through the motions of his day without really being part of any of them. When he walks through the town, he isn't sure where he means to go.

[If you find Soubi's heart, his memory will most likely involve Ritsuka. Take your pick between their first meeting, Ritsuka trying to cheer him up by cooking for him, or Kio annoying him into friendship.]

Wildcard
[Find Soubi around town! If you have questions, PM or ping me at givemedragons]

Beating Heart B.

[in_loveless_memory]

The two of them made quite a pair. Just as Soubi could ignore something for days, so too could Ritsuka. When he finally DID open the box, well, Ritsuka knew the memory as soon as he held it. Mostly because HE was in it and he knew very well the other in the memory, although, seeing it from Soubi's point of view and FEELING it from Soubi's point of view was neither pleasant or... unpleasant if he was being honest with himself.

It was just a matter now of finding Soubi. He had Yuiko with him, clear orders to the pokemon to watch for the tall spectacle-wearing blond, having a picture of him printed out and in his room certainly.... made the search easier.

"SOUBI!" Ritsuka runs over to the tall man when he sees him, just idly standing on the street, being knocked into by others. He is clutching the box to his chest, panting as he gets to him. Immediately hugging onto the older man, his free hand curling in his clothes.

"Soubi! This- this I think is..." But Soubi wasn't hugging him back or even seemed to respond to him. Oh no! Was he dead? What was he to do?

Chung Myung Go | Hotel del Luna

[fireflirt]

I. ARRIVAL

[ Death is not exactly something unfamiliar to Chung Myung at this point in his existence, but strangely pain has become a distant memory. True physical pain at least has eluded him for over a thousand years now, though that kind of thing tends to happen when you've been lacking a proper body for so long.

It's why the first thing that sticks out vividly in his mind the minute his eyes open was the pain of the rocks digging into his back. It's also why he checks for a pulse, and marvels at how his body (an actual body) feels warm for the first time in a very long time.

By the time he steps out of the house he looks pretty put together, if not a little atypical dressed for a rural town in Maine. Still, the way he's quizzically examining everything around him really gives away the fact that he's newly arrived, and if you happen to get too close to him he might even call out to you. ]

Oi!

[ And then, in a politer afterthought. ]

Excuse me!


II. GROUNDHOG DAY

A. Here We Go Again [CW: Depictions of accidents]

[ The first time he died was when he was hit by a car. As it turns out being a ghost for long enough that you learn about the existence of cars isn't actually the same thing as having a good understanding of pedestrian safety.

The second time happens when he's careful to avoid the car, but wanders towards the woods shortly after. If a tree falls in the forest and one man is around to hear it the sound it makes will be a mix between bone crunching and squashing. Not exactly pleasant.

He's only on his third day of this mess, but he's already become wary. He didn't like the sensation of dying the first time it happened to him all those years ago, and he's not exactly looking for multiple repeats.

That's why you can find him by the side of the road right now, hesitating to even stick a toe out into the street as he checks for cars repeatedly, despite the street being empty. ]

B. You Too?

[ Chung Myung hasn't really been talking to people much about his trials with mortality of late. His focus as largely been on trying to determined where that watchful gaze he's felt has been coming from, but with little success. It's actually be complete chance that he happens to be loitering nearby when he overhears someone insisting that they've been reliving the same day over and over again for some time now.

His gaze snaps up in a second, and while the person Groundhog Day Jr. is talking to might be dismissive, Chung Myung sure as hell has every reason to believe them.

Almost overly casually he inserts himself into the situation by asking-- ]

What was the last way you died?


III. THE TELL-TALE HEART

[ Well, Chung Myung can safely say this is the second worst gift he's ever received in his life, and considering the worst "gift" was a doozie of one, that's saying something. He probably shouldn't have opened the box in the first place, because he's wondering if he has now cursed himself by doing so. He tried to throw it out initially, but the thing has managed to follow him around since then.

And while he hasn't actually touched the heart or taken it out of the box yet, walking around the streets with a pulsating human organ clearly visible in the lidless box you carry isn't the greatest look.

He smiles a little too widely at a passerby, subtly tilting the box towards him to hide the heart as he waits for them to pass by, and lets out an audible sigh once they do. There's a frown on his face now as he pulls the box away from himself to look in distaste at the contents. ]

What am I supposed to do with you? What will it take to make you leave?

[ Because apparently the answer isn't to abandon it on every possible surface he can find. That's how he lost the lid in the first place, but tragically maintained the rest of the gift he wasn't able to hide. ]

arrival

[mislay]

[ For someone undead, he's not particularly fond of dying. It's a thought that's crossed his mind the last few days he's been in the town, trying to get his bearings and work out some kind of system that makes sense. It's why he's retraced his steps to the place he'd woken up in, hoping for more answers than he's gotten in the last forty-eight hours. Still nothing.

Except someone yelling and trying to get his attention.

He quickly turns, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. It's just a little after the sun's set, masking most of his silhouette in the shadows. So, really, he's almost impressed someone had been able to see him. Maybe it's the porch light illuminating the sidewalk. Maybe it's something else. It's hard to say. ]

What do you want? [ His tone is neutral, mostly. He's not mad about being interrupted. ]

Mollymauk Tealeaf | Critical Role | OTA

[gravechoked]

[ ooc: hello! Just as a head’s up, I don’t currently have any icons for Molly, though I’ve commissioned some and they are currently being worked on! So for the tdm, I’ll be stuck with just using this one icon for now, if that's okay. Sorry about that, and I hope it's not too much of a bother! Also, this is probably a given, but all prompts contain spoilers for Critical Role's second campaign, so I'd avoid Molly if spoilers are something you're trying to avoid. ]

ARRIVAL

[ The last thing Mollymauk remembers – is dying.

Then, the dream. He recalls wincing in pain, a horrible searing sensation as stones and rocks dug into his back. He was being dragged along, he thinks, though he isn’t sure. He recalls being afraid, though he’d never admit it – and thinking to himself that this had better not be the afterlife.

He’s rapidly losing hope on that front, though. Gods, is this really it for him? Two years of life, he’d had, and they’d been good years, make no mistake, but… dying like this leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He hopes Yasha is okay. That she doesn’t miss him too much.

But Yasha… she’ll grieve for him, won’t she? He hates that. She should be happy, she… she shouldn’t have to lose anyone else. Hopefully she’ll remember him with a smile and a laugh, knowing that’s what he would’ve wanted. The legacy he’d want to leave behind.

But she’s still captured, isn’t she? Is she okay? …Of course she’s not. What about the others? That fight hadn’t been looking good for any of them. Maybe he’ll be meeting them here sooner than he thought…

…Dying sure hurt more than he expected. Molly is used to pain, but that was… not a pleasant experience, on any level.

It takes a while before Molly finds the energy to sit up. Lying here in his own misery isn’t going to change the situation he’s in – he’s dead, better get used to it. He can’t quite manage to shake off that bitterness, that empty, hollow feeling in his stomach, but… that’s only natural, right? No-one can blame him for that. Time to deal with it.

He picks up the letter, and takes the basket. And an hour later, he’s out of the house, ready to explore – and figure out just what the hell is going on.

To those who have never seen a tiefling before, and to even those who have… he’s probably quite a sight. But standing out has never been something that put Molly off. ]

BEREFT OF HOPE

[ Death. It seems Molly just can’t get enough of it.

By now, he’s lost track of how many times he’s died. Each and every time, it hurts, and each and every time he wakes up like nothing had ever happened. He’s been stabbed more times than he can count, he’s fallen from heights, he’s been hit by one of those weird cart-like contraptions… he’s choked, he’s… he doesn’t want to remember it, to be honest.

And, come on. Molly knew that he was going to die eventually, though to be honest, he’s not sure that he’d ever quite come to terms with that fact… but, fair enough. If he’s dead, he can accept that.

But now, for the first time in a long, long time, he’s starting to lose hope. This is what his afterlife is like? He hadn’t been the best person, he’d been an asshole, he knows that – but he hadn’t been that awful, had he? He tried to bring happiness to people’s lives. He didn’t like to hurt people, and sure, maybe he’d laugh at them and maybe he’d scam them, but he tried to make people’s lives better, too. To leave every place a little better than he found it.

Is this punishment for something Lucien had done? No – that can’t be it. Because Lucien is somebody else.

Sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere, Molly starts laughing hysterically. Because, okay, it’s not funny – but it is a little funny, isn’t it? This whole situation is just- absurd. And if his laugh sounds a little unsettling, a little unhinged, well, that’s his business.

Eventually, Molly notices someone staring. And smiling as though nothing is wrong, he turns. ]

Sorry. It’s a long story.

THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART [ cw: mention of stalking. ]

A | Finding the heart

[ Well, Molly can safely say that he’s never received a gift quite like this before.

It looks like a heart. A beating heart, just sitting there in a box. It is a heart, as far as Molly can tell. Luckily, he’s never been particularly squeamish, though that’s not to say it’s not unsettling. So once he’s past the initial strangeness of it, he’s not quite sure what to do with it.

Looking up for a second, Molly checks around him to make sure that no-one’s spying on him, or anything creepy like that. Having a stalker would be a new experience for him, but there’s a first time for everything. Once he’s confident enough, he slowly… ever so slowly decides to poke it with one finger. Not his smartest idea, but hey, whoever said he was smart?

And with that – images suddenly flash into his head. He sees…? ]

B | Needing a heart.

[ Empty.

He’s empty again.

He’s barely even aware of it. With a lifeless, soulless expression, Molly wanders. Aimlessly, without meaning or purpose, he walks - and it’s if he’s barely alive at all.

Deep down, he’s afraid. Deep down, he knows that something is wrong, very wrong. It doesn’t feel right. It’s not good. But it’s all swamped by that horrible emptiness, drowning everything else out – and with barely a thought in his head, all he can manage to do is walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Until he wanders right past you. ]

WILDCARD

[ Feel free to throw anything you'd like at me here! ]

finding the heart

[measuringdicks]

[He sees seven children all in a circle, standing tall, standing strong. Their hands are linked and dripping with blood, and there is a powerful connection that runs through them, a magic all their own that seems to swell. Then they let go, and the moment breaks and fades, like spun sugar melting in his mouth.

The person the heart belongs to?

Listlessly wandering around just nearby, trying to kick a rock down the sidewalk and failing miserably, because his foot just keeps passing through the rock. Richie’s easy to spot: he’s a little older than he was in the memory, hair a mess, but those are the same Coke-bottle glasses he had in them.

Also he’s ineffectually trying to kick at a rock, that too.]

Yuki Takeya | School-Live! | ota

[fantasyreality]

[Arrival]

[The last thing Yuki remembers is falling asleep during their car ride. So either her friends brought her into a house to rest for a while or... this is all one very vivid dream! Either way, she steps out the house cautiously. She doesn't see anyone right away, and that makes her feel a little scared.]

Hello? Any monsters out here...?

[Bereft of Hope]

[It happens so fast, being hit by a car. Then killed by a stray flying baseball. Then falling down an open manhole.

Each time they happen, they hurt, but Yuki doesn't register really dying from it. It does make her increasingly nervous every time she goes out though. If you talk to her, or try to get her attention in any way, she'll let out a surprised scream.]

Aughhh, don't hurt me!

[Beating Heart]

[Yuki likes gifts, so she unwraps the gift she finds right away. Only what she finds inside gets her heart racing, panicked feelings grow inside of her as she looks over the beating heart. She's seen guts and blood before, and seeing it brings up old memories she doesn't want to remember.

She stares at the heart, trying desperately to calm herself.]

Ha... haha... what a bad joke...

arrival!

[gravechoked]

Not that I've seen. Though it wouldn't surprise me to see a few show up - I'd keep your eyes peeled if I were you.

[ Mollymauk answers Yuki pretty casually, though it seems like she'd been talking to herself more than anyone else. Of course, Molly... well, to those who haven't seen a tiefling before, he might look very much like a monster himself, depending on how you see him. At the very least, he's obviously not human. But it'll probably be fine. Right? ]

Savage Opress / Star Wars: The Clone Wars

[opress]

i. Arrival
Content Warnings: Descriptions of impalement, death.

[Savage remembered dying, the feel of both of his hearts being pinned to the back of his ribs and the heat of those blades dissipating so that his blood had no where to go but fill his chest. It hadn't been frightening, more... shameful that he had lived and died a failed apprentice for every master that had claimed him.

Perhaps worse than that was the feel of his mother's magic curling away from him, reverting him to a body that he had been born into. It hadn't lasted long, and he remembered a familiar face, remembered the anger and hatred ebbing away to just a sense of disappointment. He should have been more.

The voices, the strange animals with antlers and then he was opening up his eyes to stare at a foreign ceiling in a foreign feeling bed with foreign noises beyond. 'Mother? Brother? Slowly he rose, clutching his chest were two round scars stood out stark against his yellow and tattooed skin, and he clutched at the old injuries as he stumbled to his feet.

Unfortunately, the metal prosthetic grafted to his left shoulder was too large for his current Zabrak form, and he tipped over as he shouldered through the door and stumbled into a front yard he had never seen before. There were humanoids like his brother's enemies wandering around.

He forced himself to his feet, listing to the left as he literally shouldered the too large prosthetic and hopped the white picket fence to run awkwardly down the street, confused an agitated. What strange backwater planet was this? Who were these people? They didn't look or act like Mandalorians.

He found a tall building in the middle of town and managed to climb it through force of will and with the power of his legs. At the top, he had a better vantage point but he was left with more questions than answers.

He raised his head and howled out a sound that all Nightbrothers were taught when requiring aide from the clan. The sound carried surprisingly well, sounding almost like a musical scream some foreign wild animal might make.]

ii. Heart Shaped Box
a. The Search
[Gifts were not the Zabrak way. They had to earn all manner of rights to anything, so he was incredibly suspicious of the box that suddenly appeared to him. He avoided it as some kind of trick to put his guard down. It just kept showing up wherever he went, be it exploring town, in the forest or even when he sat down to process the information he had gathered.

Finally, he opened it like it may be an explosive. It was a heart, a beating heart.

Oddly enough, Savage found himself quite taken with it, grinning with how it glowed when he picked it up. The memory was one that had him on his feet, not his memory which at times were a blur of action and near death experiences. And where would a Dathomirian Zabrak keep a heart? On a necklace of course as if it were a trophy. It also freed up his hands and he was ever economical about that in case of a fight.

Savage wasn't one of relying much on words and even less about asking for directions. He headed out searching for the owner of the heart, and this wasn't his first needle-in-a-haystack expedition. What was one town compared to the Outer Rim?

Like before, he relied on the glow of the heart, how it beat against his chest as he closed the distance on the person in question. And when he seemed to be in the right place, he pointed at the individual in question.]

You!

b. The Found

[His memory was one of warmth and comfort, a rare moment of quiet in the middle of the night. It felt like a triumph and with that victory was a sensation of belonging, of love born between two of the same blood.

Loud purring filled his head, a low tone of two throats vibrating just off of being in complete unison. A red and black head with a crown of horns was in sight, resting against his armoured stomach, and his own head was dipped forward so his chin rested on his own chest. A large grey blanket covered his brother to the shoulders and draped either side over his hips and legs.

It was the first time his elder brother had willingly fallen asleep on him, the first time he didn't have to use force for the comforting pile of Zabrak resting together. It was warm, comfortable, and disarming.

Savage himself was massive, standing at over seven-feet tall and wore potent armour. If he was moving at any more than a slow zombie-like shuffle, he would likely be more intimidating.

His golden eyes were dull, staring at the ground as he moved like a lumbering giant. His lips occasionally moved, the word caught on them inaudible as he waited for one of his two hearts to be returned to him. Worse than the spell that compelled loyalty by his mother, he would serve and serve well.

But his hatred was drained out of him. He wasn't impulsive, violent or impressive. One foot in front of the other, directionless.]

ii b

[morai]

[ The hearts are heavy, glowing dimly against her hand. When she first opened the gift she expected to find something similar to what appeared in her blessing basket. Finding two hearts was... unexpected. Still, she touched one and the memory that seared into her mind felt something like a dream. She recognized the horned features and color palette. Night Brothers. But the memory wasn't one of death but of comfort, innocence, and family.

In search of the recipient, Ahsoka spots a zombie-like figure standing in complete stillness. It's not Maul, but she moves in their direction anyway. The hearts inside the small box she carries them in dim halting her steps. It was worth a try, she thinks, feeling a tug of regret at the state of the stranger before turning away from them. She can't do anything for them, but she can do something for the figure in the memory. She still doesn't know what to make of what she saw, but it doesn't matter, the hearts aren't hers to keep.

Sometime later, the hearts start to glow brighter leading her to the wrong Night Brother. She stops a few feet from the massive zombie-like figure and tries to recall the details in the flash of memory. She thought it was Maul, but this was Savage. When did he get here? Feeling a little out of sorts at the mistaken identity, it takes a moment for her to step forward. She knows what she has to do. Despite their past allegiances, she picks up both hearts letting the box drop at her feet. At 5'1, without the added 5 inches of her montrals, the armored man dwarfs her. It doesn't intimidate her, but it does mean she has to step onto her toes. Letting the box hit the ground beside her, Ahsoka takes one heart in each hand and with a little help from the Force, she slams the twin hearts into his chest before stepping back to give him room. ]

larus / original ( ota )

[mislay]

arrival.

[ Strange places aren't unusual for him.

It's more knowing nothing that sets him on edge.

He drags himself out of the bed he's tucked so delicately in, checking the state of his clothes and everything else on his person. Normal. The ache in his head though? Not so much. Larus is careful about checking the outside through the curtain of the window in the room despite that, noting that it was growing darker outside. Good. He didn't want to test the strength of the sun when he doesn't know anything other than... a few things. The phone – if it can really be called that – he finds on a nearby table allows him to access a great deal of information, but he doesn't have the time to read all of it now. Instead, he leaves the building he's in and wanders down the street until he finds someone who looks willing to talk a little about what is going on. ]

Could you tell me where you're from? [ He rethinks that question and adds, ] Originally.

[ Hopefully, he doesn't appear too out of sorts or happens to be the only one in a strange new place. ]

bereft of hope. cw: mentions of death

[ Larus has died before. He's just never died like this.

The first time feels more like an accident than anything, moving through the streets in the middle of the night – is it closer to two in the morning? three? – before he blinks and wakes up... when he hadn't fallen asleep? He doesn't require sleep the way normal humans do anyhow, so it's disconcerting and confusing. Then again, most of the things about this place are confusing. He shakes his head and ties his hair back, exactly the same way he'd done before he'd left the last time and slips out into the darkness with a strange sort of resolve.

It happens again. And again.

Every death is more poignant than the one before it too, pain a sensation he wakes up to every time. The ache in his neck from having his head pulled from his shoulders, the puncture of various objects straight through his heart and chest —

Larus begins spending the hours before his seemingly inevitable death watching the others he happens upon and listening to something that ticks him off to whatever's happening, and the next time he chokes on his own blood, he thinks he might know what to do. Maybe. It's someone who'd been begging one of the other locals to help them, searching them out seconds before there's the distinct sound of a telephone pole cracking and aiming to crush them into the pavement. Larus' speed is on his side, gripping them by the arm and using the momentum to send them both rolling out of the way. Sparks fly, glass shattering, but no one's dead. Are they? ]

Are you hurt? [ It's the first time he's spoken to someone else since this has started, but it's an important question, he thinks. ]

wildcard.

[ open to pretty much anything else! if someone's interested in doing the heart prompt, i'd be more than happy to discuss things and set it up. feel free to hit him up with a text and tell him to stop being a creep too lmao. info about larus can be found HERE. quick breakdown: he's a vampire who's very good at stalking people for information and making connections to be used later. he's also no stranger to death/killing (obviously). will match style. hit me up with a pm if you have questions or what to plot things! ]

arrival

[kyley_b]

[It's probably not the safest thing to be sat on a park bench at nightfall in a little town where you don't know where anything is and everything is creepy.

Still, that's what Kyle's doing, and looking none too pleased about it, either - arms crossed, slouched down, stupid gangly legs sticking out. He looks up at the question.]

Colorado. What, are you taking a census?

Kyle Broflovski | South Park (adult CRAU) | OTA

[kyley_b]

1. BEREFT OF HOPE
cw: gory death

There's a million ways to die. He's actually witnessed hundreds of them (although he doesn't remember them all) and if asked how he himself wanted to go he would probably say that, yes, quietly in his sleep, please and thank you, preferably after a good meal and several orgasms. Realistically, he assumed he'd die from some sort of medical complication later in life, or (the worst, surely) in a traffic accident of some sort.

Kyle was not expecting to go out so stupidly.

He's just getting out of the bathtub. That's it. He had a shower in the evening, washed his hair (wondering for the millionth time if maybe - just maybe - it might not dry into a frizzy puffball for once), reached for towel, stepped of the tub, and slipped on a puddle of water. Bad enough if he'd gone down and hit his head, sure, but no. No, he tries to right himself, overbalances, and falls toward the bathroom door.

There's a coathook on the back of the door.

The last thing Kyle remembers is a meaty, wet, popping sound as his eyeball is burst by the hook on its way to drive itself into his brain.

And then he wakes up. Goes about his day. And it happens again. And again. And again. Kyle is a smart guy, and he's seen Groundhog Day. The very idea makes him feel a little ill because it makes no sense, sure, but he's a problem solver at heart.

Which is why you might be approached by a six-foot-two pissed-off looking ginger.

"Dude! Have you died in the last twenty-four hours?! Like... a couple of times?"


2. THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART

a. never thought i'd hear my heart beat so loud

Handling a random heart has got to be unsanitary.

Upon opening the mystery box (because who can resist such a thing?) Kyle's initial reaction had been horror, but then there was always the possibility that it was a fake, some sort of special effects prop or something. So he'd picked the organ up and been assaulted by a memory that was very much NOT his own.

That's how he's wound up wandering around town, holding the heart like a particularly grisly compass. It's fine, he was in the Scouts, he can figure this out, sure.

If it's yours, he'll be approaching carefully. "Uh. Hi. Are you, uh. Missing something? Wow, you look awful."


b. can't believe there's something left in my chest anymore

Or maybe you got a present. Such a nice one, too! Look at it all bloody and beating in that box there. Maybe not as great as chocolates, but oh well.

If you choose to touch it, your will indeed have a flash of memory: the smell of fresh bread, a photo album beside you on a single bed, and the warm comforting weight of a young child hugging you as tightly as he can.

Following the beat and pulse of the heart will lead you eventually to a vacant looking husk of a young man, sitting on one of Deerington's benches, staring at the sky.


3. Wildcard! Because why not.

2a

[helpdesk_hero]

It's not the first time he's been without his heart. Not by a long shot. But it's definitely the first time he's gone this long without it. At least the memory wasn't too bad.

A man with the bluest eyes and hair as white as snow, leaning forward. A smile playing over his lips, mischief in his eyes, chaos in the flash of white teeth as he leaned in and lips pressed against David's and then words, whispered almost faster than sound itself against his lips.

Coffee and noodles and more I think.

A simple memory, short and poignant. And gone from David as he sat silently at a table in the cafe, staring out through the window. Sill and not even looking to the person who was approaching, speaking.

Special Agent Dale Cooper | Twin Peaks

[coopercoffee]

A. Bereft of Hope - cw: blood, murder, gore, guns -

[It's the same thing. Over and over again.

It seemingly doesn't matter what he's doing. It's like every day he tries something different, tries to change his fate, tries to do something else. But it doesn't seem to work.

Because out of nowhere, someone--he can't see who--

--shoots him in the stomach.

And every time he's forgotten his bullet-proof vest.

He sees it, the blood spreading out over his crisp white shirt under his dark suit, the disappointment that he's lost yet again, that the mystery won't be solved.

Is that what's bothering him even more here? Not just that he's getting killed over and over again, but that he won't know, he doesn't know, that he can't find out who did it?

It's earlier in the day and he's darting through the streets, speaking into a tape recorder. It's yet to be seen if that tape recorder is actually working.]

Diane, I'm not sure what day it is, but it's happening again. My plan for today is to see if I'm being followed, and to perhaps construct some kind of rudimentary bulletproof vest. I'm also going to see if there is anyone that might have it out for me...or is connected to Josie Packard.

B. The Beating of his Hideous Heart A -

[Dale Cooper stands in the middle of the street, lips pursed, staring at the thing in the box.

I don't want this, is his first thought.

Someone's missing a very clean heart, is his second.

This seems more like evidence to a murder for him, except that it's still beating.

Ah.

Well, that doesn't bother him either, somehow, the fact that it's impossible is something he takes completely in stride. In fact, the next person he sees on the sidewalk he shows the gruesome contents of the box to.]

I don't suppose this is yours, is it?

C. The Beating of his Hideous Heart B -

[He stands there, on the side of the street, staring blankly at the daily life passing him by. People run into him but it makes him do very little other than stumble to the side. It's like he's a ghost, or some kind of automaton.

Sometimes if someone pushes him hard enough, he'll walk in that direction a little, shuffling his feet until some sight or the other distracts him.

He seems just...very lost. Something in him is missing and he can't find it. Sometimes he'll mumble something, or repeat something he's overheard nearby.]

Call for help.

This is the face of someone who spied the red room (B)

[imaglyphwitch]

Luz had been hearing about these hearts, and honestly, it was a little creepy. She'd gotten one herself though, so she did finally open the box and examine it a moment, then, curiosity piqued, she touched it.

She was definitely not ready for the slew of images she got, and knew for certain some of it was going to end up in her dreams tonight. There were a slew of faces, a cracked mirror, laughing, these wavy red lines and the persistent images of trees and shadows: it was a little too much like Deerington, except she could feel the malice there that was a little different, and once she closed the box, she immediately was out to find who it belonged to.

There was also a man in her head, one that was dressed like some kind of business man with slicked back hair, but the face was hazy because there were so many other images. So Luz was out and about, looking for anyone that might match what she'd just seen.

Daniel Powell | Archive 81

[recorderheart]

[a. bereft]

[ It feels like it ought to be a relief; knowing that even when his body has been carved apart and replaced he can still die. Instead, he's caught in a loop that leaves him more and more rattled with each repetition of his death.

His first death was almost simple. A car jumped the curb and there was nothing but incandescent pain before everything went black and things reset. Next, it was the library, bookshelves collapsing to crush him. From there it gets more and more outlandish, a murder in the park as he tried to get back to his apartment, taken by a monster crawling down the hallway.

Daniel's nerves are beginning to fray, jumping at every shadow as it gets later in the day. He puts on a thick hoodie to cover the worst of his physical modifications and starts looking for answers. ]

Hey, have you noticed the days repeating? Please, this can't just be happening to me-

[ And as he gets brushed off the more frantic he gets, his internal bits clicking mechanically and whirring as his distress heightens. ]

[b. telltale heart (cw: body horror)]

[ Daniel's heart was human once before he was taken to the City to be their mapmaker. Now it is a strange, damaged thing, meat intertwined with machine in a way that is both grotesque and lovely. Parts of it have been removed and replaced with a tape recorder that runs constantly in a counterpoint to the beating of the flesh.

There is a moment when it is touched when the recipient of the heart will see a brief memory: Daniel standing before a mirror as he stares at the horror show his body has become. Over a third of his chest has been carved away and replaced with what looks like a stereo, pieces working their way up to his neck and across his cheekbone. His arm stops at the elbow, changing to a skeleton-like mechanical prosthesis. His left leg has been wholesale replaced as well. Horror and revulsion crawls through him, paralyzing his throat as a voice calls from the other side of the door.

"Daniel, isn't your new body wonderful? I did put so much work into it, into making you into something completely new and beautiful-"'

The memory ends as Daniel begins to gag, his paralysis easing as disgust takes its place.

In the present, Daniel can be found inside the library, his eyes dead and empty as he stands within the stacks. There is nothing there, nothing animating him as he waits for someone to bring back the missing piece of him. ]

[c. network]

un: d.powell

are there any doctors here who are good with weird stuff?
not normal sort of weird stuff
it's kind of hard to explain

c; un: warden

[topnerdfacts]

I'm not a doctor officially, but I have been studying medicine for some time.

What do you mean by "weird?" I can take a look if your condition is difficult to describe through words, of course.

Dorian Pavus ✹ Dragon Age ✹ OTA

[liberaltus]

✹ bereft of hope

[Okay Dorian was well aware of his own magnetism but this attraction that death apparently had for him was inconvenient bordering on monotonous...and quite frankly he was too beautiful to die. Nevermind dying multiple times.

Dorian had experience with things like time magic and he himself was a necromancer so things like time loops and death didn't stymie him, not for long anyway. Granted he had to get over the initial distress and then when it finally occurred to him what was going he became more solution motivated.

He began marking the events and the time of his death, roughly, so he knew how much time he would have to find answers to his problematic state of affairs. At first, he didn't think that interrogating people would yield any results it seemed like a fruitless exercise in futility...until he happened to overhear a conversation, one that described his own predicament to a T.

Pleased that he was finally getting somewhere he sauntered up to his target, stopping them from moving on because he knew it would be just as pointless for them. Putting on his best come-hither-ing air and pairing it with his playful, velvety voice he approached the subject almost as if it was a conversation they were having about any old day.]

Sounds as though you and I are having exactly the same day [he smiles pleasantly coming off as nonthreatening as possible for a man with a staff that had a skull perched on top of it with tentacles trailing out of the base of said skull like a deranged kraken] personally I think death loses its mystique after the first few times.

✹ the beating of his hideous heart

a; finding the heart

[Much to his own credit Dorian had been actively avoiding the box with no small degree of concentrated effort all day long. As predisposed as he might be to gifts, he was not quick to trust anything from an admirer who refused to make themselves known. Not this far away from his own homeland anyway.

He was a mage, a scrupulous one at that, he'd seen what damage could be done by flirting with the unknown for the sake of knowledge, power, or reckless fun. Curious as his mind was he exercised caution and was by and large skeptical of most things until he could test their mettle against his cynicism.

But this gift was not like any other gift he'd ever seen. Toss it out and it would come back. Ignore it and it would follow. It was enough to grate on his own well-fortified nerves and so he eventually opened it.]

Well...that's only mildly disgusting though to be fair not the most hideous hear I've ever seen [perhaps the clear absence of blood and other bodily attachments curtail his disgust enough for him to touch it] I hope they don't expect us to eat it...oh?

[Suddenly the velvety voices in his head and the imageries in his mind do not speak to him with the same timbre and clarity of his own voice and thoughts. It was a memory, an intrusion that did not belong to him at all and that was, perhaps, more disturbing than the heart itself.

And then it began to glow.]

b; needing the heart
[If a sensation could be ascribed to what it felt like to be a Tranquil then this was it, this had to be it. The stripping of emotion and his ability to consent and to be ordered about should one opt not to return to him his heart. On the one hand, you'd have a rather powerful mage at your disposal until that mage expired, on the other hand, he's a powerful mage who wouldn't be expired for very long.

The cherished memories are really just flashes of things, filtered through a blue lens, perhaps tainted by sadness, bittersweet perhaps?

A memory of a very young child playing with a wooden toy duck, one that had wheels that he could tug around with him under the watchful gaze of an attentive father.

Another memory of Dorian performing complex feats of magic at a very young age before a panel, it's a test of sorts and he makes it look effortless. There were murmurs circling the rotunda, whispers of his prodigal skill and his young age before the memory focuses on his father once more, proud of his son, tears in his eyes.

Another memory of both father and son walking side by side having a conversation about magic, blood magic, to be specific, and Dorian listening intensively, almost admiringly as his father delineates the dangers and weaknesses involved "...blood magic is the last resort of the weak mind..."

For his part Dorian could be found leaning up against a tree gazing blankly off into space with very little desire to do much else, engage in any of the activities that made him happy.]

bereft of hope

[fireflirt]

[ Monotonous was a surprisingly good way to describe all of these deaths. The first death that Chung Myung had been through had been a genuinely harrowing experience, but everything he's experienced in this town had felt so devoid of significance it almost felt insulting to the memory of how he became a ghost in the first place.

He's never been overly fond of pain either, and while so far they'd all be relatively quick, it was starting to steadily wear him down to have to experience that over and over and over again.

In all honesty, Chung Myung had also not been discussing his multiple deaths with anyone else around him, but as his nerves began to fray it finally came out, somewhat short and snappish at an innocent person who made a relatively innocuous comment. An innocent person who also seems more than happy to try and slide away when Dorian approaches, glad to be done with the ramblings of an apparent lunatic.

When Chung Myung turns to face Dorian he looks exhausted. Physically he seems fine, but there's a weariness in his expression that gives away just how many times he's been reliving this miserable loop. ]

If you can put up with it even a few times, then you're already a more tolerant man than I am.

Thor | MCU

[lordofthunder]

[a. hideous heart - searching]

[ To find a gift waiting for him is a pleasant surprise, Thor is quite used to tribute and there is always a sense of delight as he pulls open the box. Except-

This is not the sort of thing one is given on Midgard, of that he is quite sure. Tentatively, he pokes it with one finger and freezes as a memory flashes through his mind, one not his own. Hm, clearly this belongs to someone in need. Not really taking the time to consider how it will look for a man running carrying a beating heart in his hands, Thor heads out to seek out someone in desperate need of a heart.

Wanna help out the large, ripped dude out? He will not hesitate to ask if you've seen someone who seems to be missing something important. ]

[b. hideous heart - waiting]

[ Without his heart, without that quintessential animating force Thor is an empty shell. He walks the streets on Deerington like a ghost. Anyone who finds his heart will likely see a moment from the last few years. Moments of battle or camaraderie or perhaps a moment talking to his brother. ]

[c. network]

UN: THORGODOFTHUN

GREETINGS DEERINGTON
I AM THOR GOD OF THUNDER AND I AM IN SEARCH OF A PORTAL HOME TO ASGARD
IS THERE PERHAPS A BEAST TO CONQUER OR A MAGICAL ARTIFACT I MIGHT USE?
I ALSO WONDER IF ANYONE HAS SEEN MY COMRADES THEY ARE CALLED THE AVENGERS AND THEY ARE QUITE MIGHTY
I ALSO SEEK MY BROTHER LOKI
DARK HAIR, GREEN CLOTHING, A GENERAL AIR OF WEASELINESS TO HIM
OR PERHAPS MY FRIEND THE HULK
HE IS ALSO GREEN BUT IT IS ALL OVER AND HE TENDS TO BE RATHER ANGRY ABOUT
WELL
EVERYTHING
ANY AID WOULD BE MOST APPRECIATED THANK YOU

text; un: alicecooper

[inaminute]

[ well that's a lot to unpack. kind of. ]

two questions for you
one: why are you screaming at the network?
two: what's your hair look like?

sam wilson / mcu

[pararescued]

bereft of hope. cw: mentions of death

[ as if waking up in some creepy house isn't bad enough, he has to relive real messed up version of ground hog's day too?

sam's not a fan. hell, he's not a fan of any of this because there are honestly no answers to any of it, but he'll get to the bottom of it eventually. when he's not, you know, dying in some crazy fashion. the first time, he'd simply been minding his own business and heard the click of a gun – damn, he's not good enough to figure out what kind from behind (he's not the super soldier here) – before waking up in the bed he's claimed as his own. then, it's getting run over by an honest to god delivery truck. the last time that had almost happened, he'd at least had his wings to miss splattering on the window.

is it morbid he'd have preferred a semi?

it's all pretty fucked up if anybody asks him. (they're not, for the record.)

and so, by the time the fifth – sixth? tenth? – time rolls around, he's paranoid to the point he plants himself at the corner of a partially busy street to keep an eye out for the next final destination that'd land him back where he'd started. he's tense, feeling it in his shoulders, and when the heavy sound of footsteps crunch behind him, his reflexes have him turning to take up a defensive position before he catches himself at the sight of the body there. just some normal person not looking to kill him. probably.

he flashes that trademark smile of his, trying to keep the edge out of it. ]

You come here often? [ be cool, sam. just be cool. ]

network. un: falcon

Cool place. Must come with a cool story, right?
Anyone care to drop the deets?
If you're not the type to offer it for free, I'm open.
Just name your price

[ can't say he'll be willing to pay it, but he'll hear you out at least. ]

I get the feeling there's a whole lot more I'm missing anyway.
Must be my lucky day

wildcard.

[ open to all sorts of crazy shenanigans! still trying to decide on canon point, so i'm flexible as far as that goes. possibly considering somewhere in infinity war though. will match style! pm if you'd like to hash out things and i'll write a starter. let's gooooo ]

text; un: alicecooper

[inaminute]

[ if this is who she thinks it is, he's definitely about to hit her in some sort of feels given, you know, everything thanos that happened. ]

if by cool story you mean scary story then yeah
you're in for a real treat 🙂
so you like birds?

Bucky Barnes | MCU [TW: PTSD, war, human experimentation]

[priyatel]

Arrival
He's falling. He's falling. He falling.

He opens his eyes and lands, but every time he closes them, he feels like he's falling again. Was it all a dream? Is this a dream? He doesn't known. Maybe this is where you go when you die.

He reads the note, eats something and heads out with his rifle strapped to his back. Enemy territory seems like his best case scenario here, so he peeks out before he opens the door and as he makes his way out into the town, he always keeps his back to things and stays in cover. The town might not look like a warzone, but Bucky's mind is still in a war and he's got the uniform to boot.

To anyone who might recognize it, he looks like he's stepped right out of a World War 2 film right down to the rifle. He's more out of place from the lack of a war than the town that seems to only be a few years ahead of when he's from.

Groundhog Day
Once he gets closer to the center of town, he climbs up onto a local business roof to get a better view of the town. It looks normal enough, if a little peculiar. He's still trying to keep his cover, hugging walls and peering down to the street through the scope of his rifle. It wouldn't be hard to mistake him for having malicious intent with the way he's lying on his front.

That's when he sees a blinding light flash across the square. Something jogs his memory and he's back in Azzano. Back in that trench before--

He rolls to the side on reflex.

He's falling.

He opens his eyes.

Network
32557038. Status: alive.

Groundhog Day

[kyley_b]

Kyle's pretty sure he's seen that guy die twice, now.

His first thought was oh shit, a sniper, because Kyle's grown up in modern America, and specifically in a small town that seems to get raided by the FBI and the ATF and all manner of others an awful lot, but closer inspection reveals the guy appears to be dressed for a WWII reenactment.

And then he falls and splatters everywhere, which is pretty gross, and Kyle goes home where he promptly dies himself.

The day repeats. And yeah, there's army sniper guy again, and really how many times can you let a guy roll off a roof?

"Hey! HEY! Dude!" Kyle starts waving his arms. "You gotta come down from there!"

Star Butterfly | svtfoe

[mewmans]

Bereft of Hope
[Star is pretty on edge after four days in a row of dying. It would be one thing if it was some kind of honorable death in battle or something. Or even something totally cool. Nope, no cool death for Star Butterfly. She gets to repeatedly die jumping off a swing at the playground. She manages to get up so high, which is awesome, but then she scratches the landing and breaks her neck.

It's getting pretty old.

She's dragging her feet and has dark circles under her eyes. She's on her way to the playground now. ]

Time to report for duty. Star Butterfly, dead girl walking! Look away, gentle townspeople! Don't try to stop me, oh! Hey you, wait for me!

[She stops being over the top long enough to witness someone else that looks as terrible as she does. She runs right on over.]

Soooo, this might be a weird question but you haven't been...um...well, you haven't been dying a lot recently? [She nervously looks left than right as she twiddles her fingers.]

Have you?

[Please tell her you have.]

Beating Heart

Waaaaaaaait!

[Cue a fourteen year old girl running through the city street right toward you. She's already over the whole gross ew a beating heart thing and is trying to figure out why she feels compelled to carry around the stupid thing. It's been glowing, but now it's so bright she knows she must be close to something important.

And there you are, a walking husk of what might be a person. Star isn't really sure. All she knows is she's holding a glowing heart that isn't hers and she just instinctively knows what to do.]

You forgot your heart!

[She shouts and keeps running. she doesn't stop until she's directly in the personal space of the owner of the heart in her hands. ]

Aha! Here you go! [She slams the heart right against their chest with a surprising amount of force. Girl is scrawny but she's strong.

Strong and also looking incredibly proud of herself. She dusts off the edge of the skirt of her dress and shuffles the toe of her boot against the pavement.]

Don't worry, you can thank me later.

Beating Heart

[ghostharasser]

[Congrats Star, you just slam dunked a beating heart into the body of a very soulless looking 13-year-old boy. He’s small, so he definitely gets flung back a few feet, and lands with a thud on the ground. His lumberjack hat falling just at Star’s feet. At least that probably confirms she found the right kid from the memory she got from his heart.]

[He doesn’t move for a moment or two, and just when it seems like maybe he actually croaked, he gasps and lurches up, clutching at his chest in terror and alarm.]

What the heck!?

Zed Martin | DCTV

[stayinthevision]

I. Bereft of Hope

[ The first time it happens, it seems like it's just another one of her visions. Angels and demons appear and disappear in her dreams, but she always wakes up. She goes about her business as best as she can, going to work, going to see a friend, going to the Hart Mart... But wherever she goes, there's always that feeling that she's being watched.

Someone or something is there, but whenever she tries to get a better look, there's nothing to be seen. And then there's the headaches, worse than they've ever been. It all ends the same way too, beginning with a massive seizure that comes from out of nowhere and ending with her not coming back from it.

But then it repeats itself, all in one strange, vicious circle. Now she's on her fifth time going through the motions and dying again, and she's starting to crack.

Someone crosses paths with her, and she gives them the angriest glare she can manage. ]

Come to watch the show? I won't even charge you for it, but for your sake, I hope you're not squeamish.

II. Finding a Heart

A heart in a box? Really?

[ Zed ought to be more disgusted, or experiencing more revulsion, but for reasons she really can't begin to understand, the heart in a box is, well- just a heart in a box.

Sure, it's disturbing to hold said box and feel the heart beating, but as long as it's in the box, it's not so bad, right? Right. The random flash of a memory that doesn't belong to her was weird, but it was also clear: this heart belongs to someone, and she needs to get it back to them.

The heart is the strangest sort of beacon she's ever seen, and at first, she doesn't even notice it, but it starts to glow, growing brighter the closer she gets to... someone. The owner of the heart, perhaps?

Finally, she spots them, walking along looking all soulless and empty. That simply won't do, so she just closes in on them, and without preamble, all but slams the heart right into where a heart should go.

Never mind that this is all so incredibly weird and wrong, even for Zed. But a person should not go around without a heart, so in this case, her priority is to slam the heart in where it belongs and ask questions later. ]

You're going to be all right now.

[ Hopefully. ]

III. Needing a Heart

[ The tables have turned now, and Zed is now heart-less. There's no spark driving her actions; she's just walking the streets like a zombie, minus the shuffle and the moans. If anyone finds her heart, they might witness Zed spending time with John and Chas, or just with John on his own, all fond moments between friends. ]

finding a heart | i only have this one icon for now otl BUT

[gravechoked]

[ Mollymauk gasps as the heart is thrust into him, and all of a sudden he's wheezing, his breaths coming out heavy and uneven as he tries to process what the hell just happened.

He was... what had he been doing? The sensation was... familiar, in an awful way, and all of a sudden, he remembers in vivid detail what it was like to have woken up empty. The day he first came to life - memories left long forgotten suddenly push their way into his brain, one after the other, and he can barely find it in himself not to collapse on the spot.

...Eventually, he looks up, meeting the eyes of a stranger. Don't think about it, he tells himself. Don't think about it.]

Thank you, that was... uh, thank you.

James Vega | Mass Effect | OTA

[armsmaster]

BEREFT OF HOPE

[ He's not proud of it, but a few days pass the exact same way before his brain engages enough to try putting a stop to it. It's dying choking on eggs that's his limit, it turns out. Not the eggs - a betrayal too heavy for this lieutenant to carry - and with a "hell no" trailing him as he marches around the town (avoiding anything that looks too much like it'll kill him) trying to find answers, he looks pissed.

It's chance that have snatches of a different conversation prick up his ears, hulking stature turning surprisingly gracefully on that 180 he's spinning. Sometimes he's a little too used to being in military mode to think he might be coming across intimidating. ]

Hey. Yeah, you. Did I just hear you're playing the same shitty do-over every day too?

THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART

Mierda.

[ Sure is a beating heart he's got cradled surprisingly gently in one large hand. This whole town is loco, and the box that had been following him around like some kind of straight-edged stalker had been begging to be opened. James Vega might be a lot of things, but patient in the face of mystery boxes isn't one of them.

By the time he's out in the town proper, he's suppressed how fucked up this all is in favor of getting some answers. Or, y'know, finding this heart's owner. Glowing, jack-rabbiting heart absorbing most of his attention, he reaches out and catches the arm of the nearest person he thinks might be able to help. ]

What the hell do I do with this?

The beating of his hideous heart

[morethan084]

[Daisy is in her own head when someone grabs her arm, frantically asking her a question. It's not until she sees the heart in his hand that she finds out what the "this" is.]

Put it back where you found it?

[How the fuc---?

What?]

Bucky Barnes | MCU | OTA

[advanced]

[i: Arrival]

[This... is not where he was before.

Bucky is sadly used to disturbing and hyper-realistic dreams, though they've never featured deer before, and so he doesn't immediately connect that with waking up in this strange place. The echoes of that voice bounce inside his head but it has to be nonsense, who the hell would want his help? His first instinct is to get out of the room before anyone comes, regroup elsewhere and figure out what the hell is happening. He doesn't want to accidentally run into whoever brought him here, so he takes the window down to the street rather than risk the door.

And he finds... nothing familiar. Damn. Damn.

He falls back on his training, distasteful as it might be, to keep from panicking. Assimilate information, assess the situation, and go from there. First step: find out where he is as unobtrustively as possible.

Which is why he is now stalking random people from a distance, like a creepy black-clad shadow, trying to eavesdrop on their conversations. Feel free to be one of those unfortunate enough to be stalked.]

[ii: Beating Heart : open for this to be anyone's heart!]

[The box is an unwelcome development.

He ignores it for days, focused on trying to figure out this strange new world and his place in it. There are much more pressing things to be dealing with than a stupid, apparently teleporting, box. He knows it's not a bomb, he did a thorough inspection to make sure, but it could still contain something dangerous so he doesn't open it.

But having it show up wherever he goes is scratching on his last nerve, just stoking the flames of a paranoia that's never really too far beneath the surface thanks to being hunted by pretty much every world government.

It's by accident that he opens it. It just appears next to him on the street and he catches it with his foot, ripping the packaging, knocking it over, and spilling the contents out.]

What the--?

[The words slip out without him noticing, fixated on the horrifying sight of a goddamn heart spilled out on the ground before him.]

I

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Martin is engaged in the strikingly suspicious activity of walking to work at the library. He's got a wary eye on his surroundings after the last several weeks and he's been stalked by his boyfriend often enough to know what that feels like. It's why he stops and turns on his heel after crossing the street and looks around, hands on his hips.]

Um! Excuse me? If there's something you need could you just ask? I've got sort of a thing about people watching me and not saying anything. It's pretty creepy.

Phil "Agent" Coulson - AoS and OTA

[loveslola]

Bereft of Hope

[Okay. So he's no stranger to his own mortality but this is getting a little ridiculous. There was getting elbowed into traffic and hit by a car. Trying to avoid the car the next day and getting knocked into open rebar and impaled through the chest and wasn't that a trip down memory lane he didn't really want to take?

Short answer - no.

Every morning he wakes up and it's the same. No evidence of past trauma, no sudden compulsion to draw strange symbols and thankfully no evidence of a SHIELD Guest House. But Phil Coulson is a professional so every morning he follows the same ritual of showering, dressing and heading out in search of coffee, trying to subtly alter his routine to try and head off his death and every time he wakes up with the coppery smell of blood still in his nostrils.

But he doesn't stay in, he's out and exploring, but looking remarkably uneasy right around 1:30.

He really doesn't want to die. Again. Which is probably why he's distracted enough to accidentally bump into a passerby. He pulls back with a mild smile even if he looks a little harried.] Sorry. I.. my mind was somewhere else.

Arrival
[Since becoming part of SHIELD Coulson has witnessed his fair share of strange things. Skrulls. Kree. Aliens and magic and the impossible quickly became just another part of the job description.

The town is strange, to be sure but Coulson isn't one to shy away from strange dreams or an even stranger town he doesn't recall voluntarily going to. Coffee in hand he's out early, surveying the town when he makes eye contact with another resident.] I wonder how long the quiet will last.

[Because it never does.]

AHHHH AC <3 I'm playing her from between the end of season 3 and before season 4

[morethan084]

[He's not even talking to her, but she recognizes his voice immediately. Her first instinct is to run, which is exactly what she had been. Running from him. Running from everyone. But that was back home and here? Things are different. Complicated. She remembers him being here for a little while before disappearing.

It makes her feelings about him complicated.

She doesn't run, but she doesn't speak up either. Not yet. For now she watches him as he talks to someone else from a distance.]

Mipha | Zelda: BoTW/AoC | OTA

[fishoujo]

Arrival
[There is a fish standing in the snow. She's holding a trident type weapon, almost twice as big as she is - and... shivering. Sure, she'd woken up indoors. But it was not any sort of dwelling she'd ever seen before. Nor were any of the others present. So naturally, she had gone out to find them, only...]

[To stop and stare in absolute shock at the white winter world around her. Mipha isn't very tall by human standards, and the snow drifts around make her look even smaller, somehow. But her hands are steady on her weapon, and she's pulled the blue sash around her shoulders like a cloak.]

Please - please excuse me? [To anyone passing by.] I-I'm so sorry. But... where is this place?

[Excuse her stammering, it's really goddamn cold.]


Terrible Heart
[Okay, so, you see a lot of things when your power is healing wounds. But an actual heart? In a box? That's beyond anything she's ever seen.]

[Poor Mipha probably screamed. And probably slammed the lid on the box.]

[But - maybe it's curiosity. Or maybe it's the weird pull of the town. But, in the end, she'll give in. Lift it. And the inevitable flash of memory is - it's a lot. If she weren't white (and red) already, she'd have gone paler.]

[Determination pulls her back out into the cold, carrying the heart like a precious, fragile object.]

Don't worry - we shall find your home.

Arrival MIPHA...

[ghostharasser]

[There were a number of non humans in Deerington, so the presence of one isn’t all that surprising. It is surprising when someone new shows up and their appearance is very striking. Mipha definitely sticks out, so when Dipper sees her as he’s walking down the side walk, he slows to a stop and stares. Fascinating! She looks like some sort of reverse-mermaid maybe? A siren?]

[Then, he remembers he should have some manners, and instead crosses the street to greet her. He’s curious, but also she looks really cold and might need some help.]

[So, that is who has come to answer you, Mipha: A 4-foot-six not!hylian with round ears and an eyepatch.]

Hey! Hey, you look new, did you just get here?

Melinda May | AoS | OTA

[busmom]

I. Bereft of Hope

[ May is not a gamer. She understands the gist of the term, but she has much more important things to do than spend hours taking out fictional, computerized enemies. There are enough enemies in the real world that need to be taken care of, because- well, they're just too stubborn and persistent to leave well enough alone.

But even with her limited understanding of the gaming world, she can't help but feel that everything about this situation that she's found herself in reminds her of one of those silly video games. It all starts off normally enough; she wakes up, she takes a shower, gets dressed, and heads out the door.

It's idyllic enough, she supposes, even though there's something very strange about this place called Deerington. Maybe it's that it's too idyllic. There's ripples of something below the surface, but even she with her above-average intuition can't work out what that might be.

Yet, anyway.

But regardless, around 11:00 on the dot, the scenario begins to unfold again. It's strange, though, because it shifts every time. The first time, it was just a run of the mill car accident. The second, it was an attempted robbery gone wrong. This time, she's walking down the street, when she finds herself gradually being surrounded by the strangest monsters she's ever seen. She tries to fight, but she's quickly overpowered, and suddenly, everything dissolves into a haze of red.

When she wakes up again, she's right back where she started, and 11:00 is right around the corner. By now, May is 100% done with all this, and she's 200% done with dying. Not that that percentage is really accurate, but she's not thinking about that right now.

What she is thinking about is the unfortunate individual who's just crossed paths with her. Normally, she wouldn't bother with warning them away, but now that this is her fourth time repeating this same scenario (but who knows what her death will look like this time?), she figures she might as well try sparing someone from having to witness an unpleasant scene. ]

I wouldn't go that way if I were you.

II. Hideous Heart

[ So either May has found a heart, or she's lost hers. If she's found one, she can be found walking with it in her hand, looking for its owner, her expression grim. It shouldn't be possible for someone to survive without their heart, so either this is just a terribly macabre joke, or it's actually the reality at the moment. Neither option is all that attractive, but she figures she can't waste time thinking about that.

Someone out there needs to get their heart back, and she's going to give it to them if it's the last thing she does.

And when the tables have turned and May herself is without a heart, she's still walking around, but it's without purpose, almost automatic. To the untrained eye, maybe there's not much difference between how May acts normally and how she's acting now that she's missing her heart, but she might as well be walking in circles now, or drifting like a boat with a broken rudder.

At the rate she's going, she could walk until her legs give out, but hopefully she'll get her heart back before that happens. ]

bereft of hope; cw: decapitation, death by birds, death by ice

[owllady]

[ Eda's tired.

Well, she's not physically tired. She wakes up every day like it's the first one, ready for her day.

Except every day is the same. Not the usual my-life-is-a-circle same, but exactly the same: Luz says bye to her before she goes off to do whatever Luz does, Eda trudges downstairs and eats something, then she heads out out into town to set up her stand. But something always happens. Once, she flew straight into a telephone line, and, instead of how it should be, she died. She doesn't die losing her head, but she must have, because the next thing she knew, she woke up, Luz said goodbye, and she headed out into town.

She died. This time, by a freak flock of birds flying into her and pushing her off her staff.

She tried to stay home one day, but Margot dragged her outside and bam! Dead by slipping on some ice.

Today, she's trying walking into town. She traded her usual heels for boots with a heating spell on them.

No dying today. She has her eyes peeled, but she's just so tired.

When something new happens, this woman she's never seen before calls out to her, she looks up, taking a long minute to see her. ]

Let me guess: big monster. Flesh-eating birds. Oh, how about townspeople on a witch hunt.

"Zib" | Invader Zim (Comics)

[zib]

Arrival

[Believe it or not, suddenly slipping into a nightmare universe is almost an upgrade in comparison to where Zib--no, Dib, he's still Dib--was before. At least here there are actually other living people to converse with, supplies, proper food... there's even what appears to be other species and maybe even aliens that are not Irken, thank god.

The problem, however, is that he's a hybrid of one, or at least looks like one, and he really doesn't want people staring too hard at the back of his head where the PAK is connected. For all he knows, he'll get executed on sight if someone recognizes it, so he's made to start scavenging for something to cover the back of his head. And metal, and tools. Anything he can get his hands on because maybe now he can go back to his plans, invent something to put things back on track like he had before, even if that Zim had claimed that his plans shouldn't possible anymore.

So as a result, today you'll spot what looks like a 13(??) year-old kid digging through a trash can for anything worth salvaging. He doesn't have any money and doesn't really know if it's okay to go walking through a store empty handed (what is this universe's customs anyway in their version of Maine, do they shoot people if they don't have anything to barter with even just walking in), so dumpster diving it is. He has a green tinge to his skin, so one would be forgiven for thinking that he's sick. There's also that weird thing lodged to the back of his head that doesn't look very comfortable to wear that comes into view as his makeshift hoodie slides down by accident while bending to try to get something...]

Bereft of Hope

[Zib gets some food, gets his clothes clean and something to cover the PAK, and he even finds a place of shelter. So things seem to be going good.

... And then he dies. Something grabs the back of his head, and he doesn't see who or what it is in time before the PAK is violently torn out from where it's lodged into his skull, and any hope he had that maybe it'll be fine, I'm not like Zim, maybe I can survive without it is quickly obliterated when he dies in the span of 10 minutes before he can recover it and attach it back to his body.

But then he wakes up, back in his bed, PAK attached, and is left to wonder if he was having a nightmare.

Until it happens again, and again, and again even though he tries to avoid taking the same routes he walked each time. He still dies, either by the PAK being removed or being attacked in some manner by an unknown enemy, or even from stupid things like choking on a sandwich when he attempts to not leave his home for a day. Trying to come up with an invention to fix it doesn't seem to work either when the day keeps resetting before he can get it running.

Finally, Zib ends up grabbing at any random person on the street, not caring anymore that he looks like a crazy person at this point ("My poor, insane son" comes to mind unbidden and he attempts to shake the memory of his Dad's words away) as he speaks.]

You, what day is it? Do you remember seeing me in this spot before? Or the car that swerved and hit me three feet to the left of here and then a bunch of rats came out of that manhole to try to eat my skin after?

[... Or maybe he hallucinated that particular death. Long story, he doesn't want to elaborate.]

The Beating of His Hideous Heart

[... Zib hates that this is actually not the weirdest thing he's found inside of a box before. He's seen organs in places they shouldn't be, so his reaction is more curious than disgusted with it at this point. And upon touching it... hmm. Well that's not his memory that he just saw (and not Zim's, as that's a horrifying thing he has to deal with sometimes when recalling knowledge from the PAK), and so he walks with this gross heart in his hand until he finally seems to come across the source of who it belongs to.

And stares.]

Uh, is this yours?

[A pause]

... Actually, how are you even alive without this, this is usually pretty important to have on the inside of your body. Unless...

[And then, he suddenly reaches out with his other hand not holding the heart to sort of thump it a few times against the other's chest, head tilted as if he's trying to listen for something. Shakes the other person back and forth, side to side.]

Okay, I can't hear anything weird in there like a cowbell or bag of marbles... ugh, I wish I had my goggles for this so that I could see what it looks like in there...

[Hey Zib, you wanna maybe put your curiosity aside and... give them their heart back?? Instead of just prodding a person who is probably dying without it???]

Wildcard

[If you have something else you wanna do with this stupid roach boy, feel free to hit me up here! You can also PM this journal if you want something super specific to do with one of the prompts.]

arrival

[mewmans]

[Star's standing off to the side of the dumpster, curiously watching him rifle through things. She's slowly picking out pieces of candy from a bag and eats it while she observes him. A piece of junk comes flying out from the trash and lands at her feet.

Oho. This looks like the perfect opening for friendship!

She holds the candy in one hand and the piece of junk in the other.]

You dropped your...um...oh wow!

[She notices the back of his head and drops the tin can she's been holding. It's forgotten now, all her attention is on him.]

Did you know you have something stuck to the back of your head?

yūko ichihara | ×××HOLiC | ota

[equaltrades]

01 post-arrival

( what a bothersome turn of events! but what is destined cannot be changed, or so it seems for now. what can be determined, however, is how the witch decides to spend her free time here in this strange place.

of course, yūko acquaints herself with the local tavern first and foremost. as luck has it, the proprietors allow for smoking indoors. catch this mysterious woman propped up at the bar counter, smoking from a long, thin pipe and gazing over the rest of the bar. whatever she's thinking is hard to guess, but she is distracted enough to reach a hand over for the same drink of someone close by. )

Ah, so clumsy! My mistake.

02 hideous heart

( a gift with a grave price indeed! understanding in some way the gravity of the task at hand, yūko doesn't waste time in trying to return the item in the box. taking care of the delicate heart inside, she walks dutifully around the town in an attempt to find the heart's true owner.

tsk-tsk, such a serious condition this is!

following its glow, she turns the corner and addresses the person in front of her. the unearthly light seems to shine in telltale slivers through the tiny cracks in the box. )

Excuse me for a moment. You aren't missing something important, by chance?

03 wildcard

( anything and everything! )

Yuuko! <3 also uh. I guess 2? as hilarious as her drinking in TRC is.

[keystaff]

[Sakura doesn't necessarily react, much if at all to the question, given her more dull appearance and comparative lifelessness to her usual bouncy, cheerful and vibrant self. She simply glances down at it, blinking for a moment before giving a nod. It does after all appear to be hers. She can't really deny that, can she? When it's reacting to her presence and all, it seems.]

wally west • dc comics (rebirth)

[otherflash]

01 — bereft of hope (cw: language, i guess??)

[ how many deaths does it take for a person to reach their breaking point of frustration?

that's a question wally is currently dealing with as the last day—or would that be days?—has not gone well. the first few deaths had seen him be stabbed, blown up, hit with a car rescuing a kid, and dealing with a rock that apparently had a sinister intent when it tripped him while he was running. no matter the changes he makes, the day always ends up the same with his demise.

and after each death, wally would rush around looking for answers because people don't just die so they can relive the same day over and over and over again. there has to be a perfectly logical answer for this mayhem and a way to break the loop. except each day's investigation had led to nowheresville beyond the strange sensation that he's being watched and the seemingly never-ending cycle would continue without a hitch.

it's when his death count is close to approaching double digits that he finds himself at wit's end and slumps down into an outside bench, the palms of his hands rubbing at his eyes as if he could scrub this nightmarish scenario from his memory, and muttering something rather loudly that sounds suspiciously like "this can't be fucking happening" repeatedly to himself.

nobody would blame anyone for walking right by this potential crazy person, but perhaps a kind soul will take pity on him, or better yet, help him with whatever the hell is going on. ]

02 — a hearty delivery

[ what is wally supposed to do with a heart in a box? he hasn't dared to touch the heart directly, because why would you, but it appears to be beating and healthy if you ignore how it's currently not inside a body. granted, that's a pretty big thing to overlook, but the possibility it belongs to someone can't be discounted in this place.

not wanting to take any chances, he throws on his flash suit and sets out to speed around town. covering ground is easy enough for a speedster, but he doesn't have much luck on his search for the potential owner or a clue about what is happening beyond the whole secret admirer business which he knows nothing about as he runs around.

his lack of success eventually forces him to take more of a proactive approach, and he begins to skid to a stop in front of anyone in the vicinity, the bluish-white lightning that accompanies the use of his abilities crackling around him for a moment, and he holds up the box with the heart inside out for the person to see, before he asks as casually as possible: ]

This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?

[ if not, he's just a creep with a heart in a box that can't really explain why he has a heart in a box. ]

03 — network (un: walls)

y'know, i never actually thought i'd miss a telepathic gorilla and his groupies trying to take over the city back home. but this place? man, it sure is something.

[ whatever that something is certainly isn't meant to be a compliment. ]

though i admit i'm a little curious about what the weirdest thing to happen around here might be?

01

[beastfootforward]

[Someone else has been suffering from the constant dying. There's a green teen walking around who is currently on edge, as he's trying to run through every possible way he could subvert any potential death. So far, everything's failed, and he does not know what to do.

But his attention is soon grabbed by someone he doesn't think he's noticed before. Someone sitting on a bench, muttering to himself, and looking somewhat familiar to Gar. While he feels hesitant about this stranger, he looks towards him and hesitantly speaks.]

H-hello?