July 2018 Test Drive Meme

[sodder]

JULY 2018 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to July's Test Drive Meme! This is our first Test Drive ever so let's make it a good one. This month's Test Drive's theme is: JAPANESE BASED HORROR.

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

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

CW: Psychological horror, supernatural horror, body horror with stitches, potential gore, potential burning.

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

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Prompt Three
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

THE SISTERS OF KOJI POND

The streets of Deerington are hazy this fine summer evening in July. Buzzing drunkenly through the tall wild grass on the sides of streets are the speckled dots of fireflies as they fly about. It's a bit muggy, the kind that makes your clothes hang from your body and cling against the slopes of your shoulders and arms. It's easy to feel lost in the tranquility of that perfect summer night. The stars are bright overhead, and there's a full moon in the sky that looks as big as a quarter from where you're standing. Distantly, it smells like somewhere someone is having a late night bonfire. If you listen hard enough, you could almost hear the crackling of the wood as it splinters and burns.

That's when you can hear the soft laughter of a woman. It's the appealing kind of laughter that maybe reminds you of a distant lover, a sister, a friend, or maybe even your own mother. Turning towards the laughter, you might see the shining glow of the moon tucking itself behind a nearby building. But no, the moon was still up in the sky where it belonged. Wasn't it? The moon has halved itself. That's all right. That's how it had been when you last looked. Wasn't it?

The laughter distracts you from the halved moon, sounding closer now. The exhale of a sigh and you feel that prickling sensation that you are not alone. That's when you see a white cat. The creature is sitting neatly in front of a street lamp, and it's positively otherworldly with its luminescent glow. So that's where the moon had gone. The cat appears perfectly normal except it has twin tails winding slowly back and forth behind it.

When the cat finally looks your way, it opens its mouth and a woman's laugh comes out of it, bright and cheerful.

The cat stands up and pads down the sidewalk, its tails twirling about in an almost mesmerizing motion. Behind you, the moon has gone from a half down to a thin crescent, the stars blacking out one after the other.

If you follow the cat, it takes you down winding streets. The cat takes you to Koji Pond. Above the sky has gone completely black, and there are no fireflies to see. The street lamps have gone completely out. It's just you and the woman-.

The woman? What had happened to the cat? No, it had always been a woman you were following, right? You can't mistaken a cat for a woman.

But there's not just one woman. There's two, you realize. Two at opposite ends of the pond. Each are wearing an identical moon-white kimono. One is laughing softly, but the other is staring blankly across the water. The grave woman wears her long black hair up in a tight bun, whereas the laughing woman's hair is flowing free and filled with soft flowers. The grim woman turns her flat, black eyes and gestures to you.

"Come here. Now."

The laughing woman tucks some hair behind her ear, looking your way. She radiates warmth and that summer sweetness you remembered feeling before the world went dark. "My sister is so cruel. Ignore her. Sit beside me."

Which woman will you go to? Neither of the women will pressure you, but you'll find that if you try to leave, your sight will grow darker and darker, though you won't be blind exactly. It's more like the light from all the worlds in existence have been stolen away and put into these two women. Everything beyond them is cast in darkness.

If you go to the stern woman, her tight expression will smooth out and she will bow her head, cupping her hands against her chest. From her sleeves, she will remove a silk bag of roasted soybeans. She hands them to you, not smiling, but not looking quite as severe as she had moments ago. "Scatter them."

Once you do, you'll notice the more you scatter, the more stars you bring back into the night sky. By the time you're done with the bag, the women will have both disappeared, and the white cat from before will be sitting where the stern woman once sat. Only this time, the cat has one tail.

However, if you decide to go to the laughing woman....

As you come closer, you'll notice that her hair is parted to hang evenly over her shoulders, and at the back of her neck is ...a mouth. A snarling mouth with sharp teeth. The closer you walk to her, the hotter and more stifling the air around you becomes. All you can hear is the woman laughing. Her face is reflected a million times in the water's surface in Koji Pond, all laughing, an entire auditorium's worth of laughter hurled at you.

You must overcome the laughter. The woman's hair will grow, wrapping itself around you wherever it can to drag you towards her. The moment you assault the woman, her laughter will turn to screams and the world all around you will feel as if you've been placed into an oven. Small fires will spark live in nearby bushes and across the grass.

It doesn't seem like regular objects can truly kill her though.

The other sister can't reach you, but she is throwing raw soybeans to you. They scatter all over the place. If you're quick on your feet, you'd think to pick them up. If you're even quicker, you'd think to throw the soybeans into the nearby fires to roast them. This seems to be the only way to really hurt the woman- and the only way to eventually banish her. But it'll take some time.

The worst part? The longer you stay near the woman, the sicker you'll feel. Maybe you'll come down with the cold, or maybe you'll grow blisters on your tongue. It doesn't matter: you'll grow terribly sick with some illness in the world and nothing will cure it until the woman has been abolished. And when she finally is? You will be left terribly weakened, but the stars will slowly come back as will the full moon.

I LOVE YOU: PLEASE LOVE ME BACK

It begins as a regular day in Deerington. The only problem is that there's really no such thing as a regular day in Deerington. When you come to, you'll find yourself feeling particularly emotional. Whether that's overly sad or happy, it doesn't seem to matter, because you're feeling everything so intensely. Maybe you just didn't sleep right, or maybe it's this weird dream you're having. Hopefully if you ignore it, it'll go away.

Except it doesn't go away. It's beginning to feel isolating being alone with your thoughts, even if they're happy, because it feels like you're near bursting to express yourself to someone.

When you finally cave, it's to the nearest person. The urge grows even louder inside of you until finally you're exclaiming loudly to the other person how you're feeling. Then you think to ask something that seems perfectly natural to you: you ask for a hug. Or maybe you ask for a handshake. Any contact.

Maybe the other person is sympathetic, or maybe they're feeling this emotional onslaught as much as you are. Either way, the moment your skin makes contact with another person's body, you'll feel a sudden swoop of sensation slide through your skin. It doesn't hurt, necessarily, but you've never felt anything quite like it before. And you don't want to stop touching this person wherever you may be touching them. As a matter of fact, you want to get closer. This urge does not need to be felt on both ends.

But the closer you get, the more yourself you begin to feel. Until at last you decide to look to where you have touched the other person.

Securing the two of you together are thick, coarse black stitches. Try and tug yourself away will result in atrocious pain on both ends. Anywhere your skin has touched the other person's will have been stitched to it. Careful getting hysterical though- the more emotional you become, the more likely you'll be to crowd closer to the person you're sewn into, and the more you'll fuse together. Better try and calm each other down first.

The solution is simple: you need to cut your way out of the bond. The tricky part is finding something to cut it with...and, well, the fact that the moment someone tries to cut the stitches, you'll both feel a hysterical urge to stay together forever.

It's possible to overcome that urge- but boy, do you need to have an iron will. Cutting the stitches is a miserable ordeal that hurts every snip of the way- but each time you cut a stitching, it fades away entirely as if it had never been there to begin with.

There is another option, of course. You could always jump into some water and get the stitches wet. Once you do, they'll melt right off you, not even leaving holes or dots behind. Surely you hadn't just imagined that, right?

THIS IS MY HOLE, IT WAS MADE FOR ME!

It is certainly a nice day for a refreshing hike into the woods! Or perhaps you have decided that a little exploration is in order for this new, strange town you have woken up to. At some point along the way, perhaps you find someone else on the trails of the National Park. No such thing as bad company, right? As you traverse towards Mount Rheum, the wind begins to pick up and you hear a low moaning. You could swear that you recognize that voice. Before you can place any names, the moaning stops and it's easy to think that maybe it was just the wind. Winds pulling through the trees always did make the strangest noises.

Except when the wind picks back up, you're more certain that you know this voice. Maybe it's the voice of your companion, or a loved one, a hated one from back home...Maybe it's even your own voice that you recognize. Each time the wind blows, the voice seems to change. It can't be the wind? It all seems to be coming from one direction: Mount Rheum.

You never quite reach the base of the mountain.

Even if you head straight on towards the mountain, when you pass through the line of trees that should technically open up to the base, you'll find no such thing. Instead, you'll find an enormous looming wall of gray slate. You can't even see the mountain behind it, it's so immense. How did you not see that from the forest? The wall seems to be tipped towards the mountain, and you think, just maybe, you could climb it. It crosses your mind for just a second before you notice something odd about the wall. From far away, it looks like a bunch of black smudges. But as you grow closer, you realize they aren't smudges at all. They are holes.

Holes the shape of human beings. And every single hole looks completely different from the next. There's hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, and they climb all the way up the slate wall. And there is one hole made specifically for you.

You may even find the hole that belongs to someone you know, or your companion, and every time the wind blows, you can hear the groaning voice of that person coming from within their hole.

It is impossible to get over the wall of gray slate. No matter how hard you may try. But it seems possible to find your own hole. You'd swear that the holes are moving. Examine the inside, and they seem to go on indefinitely. Put your hand inside any of them, and they will feel oddly warm. As warm as a human body. If you put your hand into the hole that belongs to the person you're with, they will feel a terrible coldness overcome them. Keep your hand in long enough, and you'll begin to see them die right in front of you. Better keep your hands to yourself....Or that'd be easier said than done if you didn't feel yourself grow in power, in intelligence just from stealing their life force.

Climbing into your own hole? You'll feel exhilarated! Alive! Like you have truly found the proof of your own soul. You don't want to leave your hole. It was made for you!

It is almost impossible to get out of your own hole. Chances are good you'll be slowly pulled into it, your body steadily crushed and stretched out, but you'll be conscious the entire time, and at some point you'll begin to moan horribly from the pain of it all.

Of course, you can always be saved. If someone climbs into your hole after you, it'll break apart the rock structure clenching down around you and they might be able to pull you out in time. You'll be left terribly weak, pale, and incapable of proper speech for a couple of hours...But at least you're not dead.

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]

If you have any questions about the TDM, feel free to ask here.

[deheaded]

hello!! what would happen if shuten tried to make friends with the nekomata before it made its way to the lake?

as in

tried to lead the little fiend closer to where people are gathered........

she's not up to anything why do you ask

Gabriel Caron | OC

[discursivedream]

Koji Pond
It’s such a lovely night. Perhaps this place isn’t so terrible after all. It’s new and interesting enough that Gabriel doesn’t mind being pulled away from his life back in the real world.
He’s strolling through the perfect summer evening when the moon halves, and then reduces to a sliver. The woman’s laughter is unnerving, but Gabriel’s a curious and reckless young man who doesn’t mind strange situations. He follows the cat through the town, stopping when he encounters you.
“Good evening.” Gabriel’s a charismatic grad student with flecks of paint on his hands and an easy smile, so he greets you as if you’ve just this moment become good friends. “I’ve found this radioactive cat. What do you think?”

Please Love Me
Gabriel is terribly susceptible to the need to be loved. He’s driven at all times by a desire for attention, so it doesn’t seem unusual at all that today he’s feeling especially emotional and needy. He’s alone in this place, after all, and he hasn’t lived alone in his life. There’s always been someone to give him attention and affection. Gabriel’s made sure of it.
This morning, the need to have someone to want him is overwhelming. Gabriel heads to the lake, since the romantic and the aesthetic sides of his nature both agree that a foggy morning by the side of the lake is the best place to find the sort of lonely and romantic souls who have a soft spot for artist-philosophers like him. He can be found on a scenic bench by the side of the lake, watching the sun burn away the fog. As you approach, he will wave and smile invitingly. Please pay attention to him. Please love him.

Artist’s Model
Gabriel’s looking for inspiration today, and models. He has a few pieces in mind that he wants to do, but all of them will have to wait until he can secure appropriate models and a studio. That’s in the works. Today, at least, he has a large drawing pad under his arm and a case of pencils in his back pocket, and he’s wandering Deerington looking for something to sketch. He has little interest in still lifes or backgrounds, but he will approach characters in any reasonably-public place: the library, an outdoor patio at a restaurant, town park, coffee shop…
“Excuse me.” Gabriel’s a charismatic and handsome twenty-five year old young man, and his friendly smile beams at you. “May I sketch you?”

Artist’s Model - Coffee Shop

[imaginationswoes]

Coffee wasn't just a warm cup of caffeinated comfort that had been piled with sugar and cream, it was also a little bit of love in each sip. That was an exaggeration but Airy had recently arrived in a strange new world that was very little like the world she had known and she had found coffee.

She could have gone to a bar but she didn't really want her drunk addled mind to start thinking of weird and disturbing theories about this world. First coffee, drinking was for a more desperate time or in the comfort of her new home so she could pass out in peace.

The steam filled her nose and a light, pleased smile pulled at her lips. She was sitting towards the front window, passively watching people as they walked by. Airy was used to living in a small town and whenever she accidently made eye contact with someone, she smiled and waved. It was the polite thing to do but was also sometimes interpreted as a start to a conversation. Not that Airy minded but that was rarely her initial intention.

She blinked at Gabriel's question and then glanced around the small café. "Are you sure you'd want to draw me?" Airy didn't think that sitting was all that exciting but at the same time, she wasn't going anywhere until her coffee was done.

klaus mikaelson, the originals. ota.

[poppycock]

I LOVE YOU: PLEASE LOVE ME BACK

tw: thoughts of violence, imprisonment, alcoholism.
( klaus hardly needs reason to feel particularly emotional, considering he has plenty reasons saved and stacked up before he even graced this quaint and entirely unwelcome town of deerington just a few days ago. that he's here at all in some demented acid-trip nightmare of horror's greatest hits is just the cherry on top. pity. he used to enjoy hitchcock.

he supposes it could be worse. he could be bored. lucky for the population of this dreamy town, he hasn't felt the ennui, or the motivation, enough to start dropping heads. (it could be that's a tad dramatic. he's certainly done his homework; he has an idea of what might befell him if he does. more likely he's considering ways to test the restrictions placed upon them all, who or what has imposed them, and why.)

this morning, however, starts with an aching, black loneliness that weighs on his heart unlike the days before. it reminds him of his cold, dank cell; it reminds him of this cage, not unlike all the others. he paces a path, back and forth in his rooms, until he cannot countenance thoughts of his family or of his creeping madness, his desire for — someone. anyone. anyone he loves and cares for.

he strikes out to pace the town instead, his hands in white-knuckled fists, uncertain if he wants to tear open someone's throat or rip the next unfortunate soul apart.

perhaps what he really needs is a drink. )

feel free to encounter klaus around town or at the bar!

THIS IS MY HOLE, IT WAS MADE FOR ME!

Bloody hell.

( he should have known. he did, perhaps, even as his heart beat out of his chest and imperative drove him forward. how could he ignore the call and screams of someone he loves, even if it would only lead him to some horrible and torturous... game. because that's what this is, is it not?

his loved one is not in trouble. and if they are —

the horror on klaus' face filters away and hardens. either way, there could be something to gain here. he reaches for the first hole. )

this is my hole, it was made for me;

[tribridfreakshow]

[She's made a mistake, that much she knew.

The hole had been hers, just her size and perfectly comfortable when it had first beckoned her inside, and it had felt right in the beginning. Not so much now, though, as the rock around her cradled a little too hard to keep her still, to bury her within the confines of the wall. Her bones ached by this point, her limbs stretching just enough to be uncomfortable, and Hope groaned softly as she tried to move again.

No luck.

She couldn't rely on magic either, not when this place seemed to twist everything no matter what she tried to do. But she could hear movement distantly above her, as if someone was shifting against the rocks, and she called out on the slim belief that someone would hear her.]

Hello?

Dana Scully | The X-Files

[starbuckaroobanzai]

i. Arrival
[In a way it had begun almost like a familiar dream, a recurring nightmare so well-trod that she slipped into it like old running shoes, without discomfort -- the forest not unlike all the other forests of Scully's dreams, a stand-in for something primordial, some lizard-brain terror of the hemmed-in dark. The helplessness too is familiar, an old standard, terrifying while awake, dizzying while asleep. An old, old fear, flashes of memory: bound and gagged in the trunk of a car, cowering in a closet, staring down the barrel of a gun. She knows where the dreams come from, but now as she wakes she finds she can't recall ever having one quite like it before, quite so vivid or so strange. But that isn't, she comes blearily to recognise, by any means the strangest or most alarming thing about this morning.

There's a cold sweat prickling on Scully's skin as she sits bolt upright in the bed that isn't hers, the scent of the place all wrong, the fabric, the sensation. There's a moment of dizzy panic, the certainty that she must be on a case, this must be a motel, she must have forgotten -- waking disoriented isn't entirely unfamiliar -- but she knows better. She knows better, and that's terrifying. More confusing still is that in the scrabble to get up and outside, she finds she's still in possession of her cell phone, her badge, and her gun, that she's not barred in, that... well, aside from the fact that she's got no idea where she is and how she got here, there's nothing immediately alarming about the place at all.

Out on the street she turns a slow circle. It looks just like any other small town she and Mulder might pass through pursuing some case or another, but not one she recognises. How the hell...?

It's as she's executing the final few steps of her slow rotation that she catches sight of someone making their way along the sidewalk up the street, and she hurries to catch them, desperate for any kind of information.]

Hey. Hey! Excuse me!

[Her tone is sharp, the voice that of someone accustomed to giving orders and being listened to.]

ii. The Sisters of Koji Pond
[Her instinct is to explore. Sitting inside just doesn't feel right, not when there's still so much she doesn't know about where she is and why she's here. The absence of information grates on her, gets under her skin, makes it impossible to get comfortable, to sit still, to wait. As the sun starts to sink she has the wild idea to try to orient herself by the stars, as though if all else fails she might just pick a direction and start walking.

It's a nice evening, though, and through the strangeness of everything that niceness tugs at her guard. The streets through which she walks all seem in the fading light, with the lazy buzzing of distant cicadas, to be utterly benign in a way which tugs abruptly and unexpectedly at her heartstrings. Don't you ever just want to stop? Get out of the damn car?

She's shaken it off even before the first quiet, fluting laugh. She's lost here, after all, without the one person in the world she could bring herself to trust implicitly. The reality of the situation is enough to make her skin crawl, and when the laughter does come she slows her steps, glancing sharply about to try to locate its source.

Nothing. Nothing yet, anyway, but she's not much further along when it comes again, closer this time.]

Okay...

[It's barely even a murmur, self-directed noise, just something to fill the silence. She reaches into her jacket to touch her gun in its holster. What's the big deal? It's a nice night. There are bound to be other people out. That rationalized, Scully continues on her way, shoulders hunched against the absurd sensation that she's being watched, a sensation she's considering when she reaches the street corner just as someone else rounds it.

She yelps. It's undignified, it's ridiculous, but it happens.]

Jesus!

[She puts a hand to her chest and sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her head.]

Sorry! Sorry. God, I don't know why that startled me.

[justbeingknife]

[ As it turned out, that someone was a tall man in a dark suit. Frankly, he looked out of place among the neat suburban residences around him -- and even moreso compared to the few men and women about their business in this section of town, with their 1950s dress and pastel-colored hair.

Majima stopped and turned at Scully's address. She didn't look injured at a glance, but that didn't mean part of the town hadn't reared back to bite her. ]

What's wrong? Somethin' after ya?

gwen stacy . spider-gwen

[gwennie]

arrival / riley's
[ oddly! this isn't the first time Gwen's woken up in a world she doesn't belong in. granted, she's usually approached by someone and asked to leave to go help with some potential universal threat, but still. her first reaction isn't to panic. she was quick to assess what kind of shape she was in - she's got her backpack, her costume is in it. and- other stuff she doesn't remember being in there, but she'll figure that out later. for now she's just getting up and trying to find her way out of this house. even though, as she wanders down the hall to the stairs, there's nothing all that threatening about the place. it's almost- normal? maybe Jessica tugged her here mid-nap. like that would be at all possible. whatever, she can be optimistic sometimes.

once she's out of the house she's faced with more normal, to the point where it's a little unnerving.

she tries her phone, of course. a few times. but no dice. which again, weirdly normal for someone that has a watch that allows her to jump to different universes. a watch she doesn't seem to have here, by the way, but she assumes whoever brought her here has it. uncool, y'know, to take someone's stuff? but she'll get it back when she finds them. she's so sure it's Jess. it's gotta be.

eventually her wandering brings her to Riley's, which- a skating rink? for real? she's not hating on it, especially when she steps inside and hears the old tunes playing. she doesn't hate it, no. but she is starving, which is why she follows the smell of glorious 'za until she's taking a seat at the bar that's not actually a bar, but people are eating there. yeah.

see! this is a good idea. solid plan, Gwen. can't explore properly with an empty stomach, right? ]

please love me back
[ it's not unusual for Gwen to wake up feeling particularly bummed out. not that she's sad all the time, just exhausted, in a way. her brain is very, very slow to wake up, like she's in a fog, yeah. but eventually she gets there. sort of. today it feels like something is dragging her down more than usual, but, she doesn't really think anything of it. she has to figure this place out, right, see if she can find somebody she knows. but the more she walks around, the less focus she feels. which- is the opposite of how this works, y'know? usually once she gets going she can dig in and start putting together some clues. but no. right now all she really wants is to just- ]

I'm so pissed! [ she sounds a little more scared than pissed when she speaks up to the person closest to her, eyes wide ] If they needed our help, they should have just asked. [ "they", whoever "they" was, they said she was needed when she first woke up here in that forest ] But no, now we're stuck here and nobody knows what the hell is going on and I just want to go home.

[ now normally, Gwen would never be this open. to anyone, especially not to a stranger. there's a little red flag waving around in the back of her head, but she can't seem to focus on that. all she can focus on is the fact that there's this person, right here, who's here for her. maybe. hopefully. ]

this is my hole, it was made for me
[ welp, if there was ever a reason to don her Spider-Woman costume in this new, weird town, this would be it. quiet voices wailing in the distance? yeah. she couldn't get her webshooters on fast enough. she's still got her backpack on, but otherwise she's fully decked out in her costume, ready for something Not So Cool to go down. ]

Hello? [ she just keeps rushing deeper into the forest until she hits that wall. which... is horrifying at first glance, by the way, but if there's one thing spideys can easily overcome, it's ridiculously high walls being the main obstacle between her and being able to help someone. hey! this is kinda great. of all the things she had to face here in this weirdo town, a big wall isn't the worst. right? she's got this. ] I'm going to get you out of there, okay? I'll find you, just hold on! [ she's optimistic, yeah. the cries sound distant, almost, but as she climbs and climbs and climbs it seems to be getting closer. the heat from each hole she passes is more than a little unsettling, but it doesn't distract her for long.

it's only once she finds the hole where those moans are coming from that she gets her game-face on, moving to stand in the hole, which- whoa. holy power trip. what is that all about? she steps in a little further and even though the rocks break apart to reveal the person she's assuming was caught in trouble, it only feels stronger. that power. whoa.

get a grip, Stacy! ]

I'm- here to help.

[ she could stand to sound more confident, probably ]

pls love me back

[nerded]

Yeah. I wanna go home too. I've been wanting to go home since day one.

[ Not to say that Peter Parker hasn't met some really cool people here, but everything else? Is kinda 24/7 terrifying, and he hates it, and he wants a refund. And a one-way ticket back home.

He hadn't meant to be so free and easy with his response, especially to a perfect stranger. But here he is. He turns to the girl beside him and blinks - like, just.

Whoa.

He fixes his posture and recomposes himself. ] Did you just - did you get here just now?

prompto argentum / ffxv

[mercurio]

ARRIVAL

[he wakes up.]

[and thrashes right out of the bed he's woken up in.]

[prompto is on the floor, staring with wide eyes at it before he starts looking around himself. he hasn't seen a bed in days, much less a house unoccupied like this one. it's been weeks since he, gladio, and ignis arrived back in lucis after the rather anti-climatic end of their journey in the crystal room, in gralea. there's no way that he should be in a bed or a home, out on a hunt as he last remembers himself being off on.]

[picking himself up, prompto goes through the house in silence and with trepidation, pressing against walls and taking steps at an agonizing pace.]

[outside, he finds himself in a neighborhood, and he guesses at a direction before heading down main street and ending up at a gas station.]

Hello?

[this doesn't seem like lucis at all. and that freaks him out.] Is anyone there!

KOJI POND

[prompto stares warily at the two women. his initial suspicion of his surroundings changing had dissolved into relief when he saw a cat, but his heart started hammering against his chest again as it laughed a woman's laugh.]

[it feels like he has no choice but to follow the cat as jumps from its perch, walking with purpose down the street, as if expecting to be followed.]

This is a terrible idea...

[speaking to himself is the only way he can make himself slightly brave about the whole situation, although it doesn't make him smarter about it. and it's not like he has a choice, right? he feels horribly like he's being watched, and it doesn't help that his surroundings seem to become darker with every step he takes.]

[he pats down at his vest blindly and turns on the flashlight attached to it for these occasions.]

[unsurprisingly, it doesn't seem to make that much of a difference. still, the cat is quite stark against the surrounding darkness. so, muttering under his breath, he keeps going despite his general hesitation. his hands pat at the wall of the streets until they give way to a clearing, to a pond, where two women stand.]

[eyes widening, he takes several steps back and yells in both surprise and fright when he bumps into someone else.]

Shiva! Don't do that!

[hissed out, panic in his voice as he tries to grasp at your shoulders and find some balance, even as he stares out towards the direction of the pond.]

I think we gotta go. This screams bad choices all over.

[where to, to the darkness all around them?]

LOVE ME BACK

[usually, prompto has a hard time letting words filter through his brain before he says them. it's easy for him to fall victim to his self-inflicted embarrassment, but he's used to that by now. despite this, he's usually capable of keeping to himself for days without problem; a learned mechanic of growing up mostly by himself in an empty home.]

[but despite all this, today seems to be the day that he can't quite keep it to himself.]

[soon as he finds someone, he explodes:]

I just- [a second of trying to reel in the wordage about to escape him] I just feel like a lot of what I'm doing is gonna be worth nothing in the end! It feels really hopeless!

[......]

[that out of the way, he looks down at his feet, at his fidgeting hands, and then turns his gaze up.]

But we got this, right?

[maybe prompto is trying to lessen his feelings of hopelessness by giving himself an out on the possibility of getting things right. even more, he raises his hand curled into a fist. for a fist bump. duh.]

KOJI POND

[justbeingknife]

If that demon cat's even gonna let us go. I thought this was supposed to be an American horror town.

[ Majima was trying to cast back in his memory, recall what he remembered learning as a kid about forked cats. Was there anything you were supposed to do in response?

Unfortunately, he was kind of coming up empty on useful advice. ]

Look -- everything's going dark. The town, the sky...

John Blake | The Dark Knight Rises

[oversight]

Sew Close and Yet Sew Far Away—

Oh, no, I hadn't—

[ He's stammering over his words, talking over everything. Had he asked for this contact? Had they agreed? At the time, at the height of his emotional distress, John Blake hadn't had the necessarily willpower to stop himself from reaching out. He thought he might have initiated contact — grabbed on to the person nearest him out of some reflex — and now that he's starting to see the implications of such an act, panic is beginning to set in. ]

Oh fu- Sorry, I dunno what I was doin'—

[ That same flare of emotion that had caused him to latch on is now forcing his heart to race, the consequences of this contact now quickly descending on him. God, he's so angry — at himself all of a sudden — so furious as the threads blur in an out of view. Behind his vision colored red, the connection doesn't look nearly clinical enough; It's careless and painful just like him, and to make matters worse, all that pain and anguish he feels with each tugging distance implies he's subjecting someone else to the same pain. He's actively hurting someone because he couldn't keep control.]

Is this—? This is my fault. Was so angry. Just wanted— just wanted someone to listen and I—

[ His grip tightens. He wants to hold this person that much harder, this stranger he's doomed, this unwitting victim of his inability to keep himself in check.

Dammit. Dammit! He thought he'd gotten over this. But instead, he'd built a mask and hid from it instead. He thought he'd learned to turn all of it off, but now he realizes he's just too weak to do this alone.

He can't let go.

He won't let go. ]


Holey Human Spectacle, Batman—

[ Quite recently, a parade of people had been passing by in one odd state or another. At first they'd appeared mostly excited, and when asked about it, they were all too willing to share their destination: Mount Rheum.

—Hadn't you heard? —It's really something to see. —My friend said she'd never be the same! —You really ought to see it yourself...

When he was a detective — even when he was a cop — he'd been trained to look for certain signs of distress, be it emotional, chemical, or physical in nature, and for what he's seeing around, it's hard to decide which is in play. The more he hears, the more interested John Blake finds himself in this suddenly captivating phenomenon.

Taking a hike, he follows the fast-wearing path, easily led to the appropriate destination by a stream of others interested in what there is to see. Upon spying the wall — the human hole-pocked cliff side — a sense of wonder accompanies the goosebumps that take over this awfully momentous feeling moment.

He looks around at his companions, suddenly invigorated. ]

You hear that? Sounds like— I got here just in time.

[ Like he's a lucky man. John's already found it — he's found his place, where he belongs. This was made for him. The whispering is as close to his ear as the people who had brought him here. Can anyone else hear it? It sounds like—]

Feels like it's invitin' me. [ He reaches out his hand, feels the warm layer of air just beyond the outline, the perfect duplication of his specific form. The urge to get closer feels so strong, but can he give in to his inherit curiosity and unabashed desire to investigate anything out of the ordinary and take that first step inside?] It's a perfect fit...


Mister or Miscellaneous—

[[ OOC: Anything goes! Double points for puns. 8D ]]

Cut the strings, Pinocchio (TW: vomit)

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky had seen him coming and he'd flinched away, struck by the overwhelming urge to apologize, which he'd tried to do as the man had approached him. For what? Basically everything. He'd practically been ready to apologize for existing, but Blake had been unrelenting as he'd closed in on Bucky's personal space and grabbed him by the bicep of his arm.

His one arm because the metal replacement Stark is working on isn't ready yet and his left arm is still just gone.

Without looking at the contact, he moves to jerk his arm away and the pain knocks the wind out of him. ]

What did you--?

[ He stares at it, the jagged stitches pulling at his skin, and he'd like to think he's a pretty unshakable guy when it comes to blood, but he can feel the bile rising in his throat and he gags.

When he opens his mouth to try to apologize again, he has to turn his head quickly away, doubling over and yanking at the stitches in the process as his stomach empties its contents on the grass. ]

So--sorry!

Cyrus Crautz | Original Character

[soulist]

Arrival

[ Cyrus wakes up with a gasp and promptly proceeds to have a coughing fit as he stumbles from his bed and outside. He's more or less okay aside from that horrible cough wracking his body as he wanders aimlessly through the town. He'll try to calm down and stop himself as he props one hand against the side of a building his shoulders shuddering with those horrible wet coughs. His robotic left arm is a stark contrast to everything else around him as it hangs limply at his side, and he looks totally out of place as he finally looks around, the coughing having finally stopped.

He doesn't notice anyone immediately but he'll start to walk through the town with a curious and wary expression on his face. ] Hello? Anyone else here?

[ Hopefully he wasn't in some desolate village on a random planet somewhere. He'll fiddles with the watch on his wrist in putting something but the only noise is a robotic voice saying "error unable to reach inter-dimensional navigational satellite. None within area." Cyrus will cough into his right hand as he looks up at the sky. ] None around here, huh? Must be pretty far from home then.

Koji Pond

Really doubt it's a good idea to follow this thing but... [ Cyrus will turn to notice the blackening of the entire world around him, his breath catching in his throat. It reminds him of Nox Verga and the soul that can tell of inherently evil things causes a sharp pain in his chest. It knocks the wind out of him for a moment almost bringing him to his knees. He might pant a little as he clutches his chest and then proceeds to follow the cat. ]

But if we don't who knows what'll happen.

arrival

[justbeingknife]

This is 1950's Maine. You're not gonna find any of that shit out here on the regular.

[ Majima fished a cigarette out of his carton, then produced a lighter from the pocket of his dark suit jacket. He'd emerged from the door of one of the nearby shops, and seemed about ready to take a break. ]

You want spooky bleeding walls and giant spiders, though, ya came to the right place.

Niall Lynch | The Raven Cycle

[pygmalionist]

arrival, hair of the dog

This is a dream.

Niall knows it for what it is because he's spent forty years crossing from the waking world into dreams and back again, taking with him whatever he liked. To creatures like himself, a dream is simply another world to be explored and manipulated, as real as the one he just departed. So for all of Deerington's strangeness, he remains unfazed. It may be a good dream or it may be a bad one, but he'll navigate it like any other.

When he tires of the house (his house, he presumes it's meant to be), he wanders out to the street and makes his way through town. It isn't the town he just left behind, but it might as well be, for the mildly unsettling sleepiness and beauty of it. For now, he rather likes it. He expects his mind may change.

He finally finds the pub - adorably named Hair of the Dog - and saunters in, taking a seat at the bar. He wears his smile like armor, a pleasant expression to deflect whatever nightmares might be lurking in the periphery. In general, if he is friendly to a dream, a dream will be friendly to him. "I'll have a pint," he tells the bartender with his genial Belfast lilt, and nods when it's delivered. "Much obliged."

THIS IS MY HOLE, IT WAS MADE FOR ME!

Niall has not forgotten the dream within a dream that welcomed him before. It was far more interesting than the town, and because the dream refuses to take him back there when he asks, he does the next best thing and goes searching for it himself. The woods make a natural starting point, and besides, the woods are a favorite place in any dream.

After he's arrived, though, the wind picks up and carries Aurora's voice with it. That catches his attention immediately, for she's not only his wife, but once served as his guide through these worlds. He can trust her, he thinks, not to lead him astray.

As he walks, however, the voice distorts and changes. He hears his children, his parents, his long-dead friends. A trick after all. But Niall isn't a coward, and he's curious enough to see what sort of trap awaits him, even if it means slipping into a nightmare.

"Ah," he breathes as the wall of slate reveals itself to him. What an evil thing that wants him so desperately.

Despite recognizing it, he approaches, following the lying voices to a particular carving. He lays his hand against the stone, feeling its alluring warmth. "Are you my tomb?" he asks it, wryly amused, and fondly pets it as if it were a living thing.

wildcard

Anything goes. Action or prose OK.

Arrival: Hair of the Dog

[almightythirst]

As the bouncer at Hair of the Dog, Jesse is well acquainted with all their regulars, and he knows the locals from the "outsiders" pretty well on top of that. He was one of the first batch of newcomers to arrive in town after all, which makes it less a matter of catching up and more of just keeping an eye out for the inevitable, wide-eyed newbies.

So he knows the moment he sees Niall that the man has recently landed, even if he doesn't have the expected "wide-eyed newbie" look. He seems impressively calm, in fact. It's curious enough that Jesse elects to take a break and join Niall at the counter. The night is a slow one anyway, and there's only so much standing around you can do before you start to go stir crazy. This town is weird like that. There's either nothing happening at all, or the damn sky is falling and bringing all sorts of nastiness down with it.

"Welcome to town, stranger," he drawls in his signature southern lilt. The accent is almost aggressively American. Doesn't take more than a look at the bartender to get a glass of whiskey. He'd order a shot, but he's technically still working.

"Been here long?"

Bruce Banner | MCU

[therapissed]

I - Stitchery

Bruce isn't one to reach out to others. He's spent literal years avoiding human contact at all costs, and he's gotten quite good at it. But the urge for even just a small thing like a handshake starts to get the better of him? He knows something's up, and immediately goes as far as he can from everyone else short of leaving the town (yeah, he's not repeating that for a while...), hunkering down by Lake Tomie and taking deep, slow breaths.

The desire to touch and be touched is so damn strong and it almost physically hurts-! He ends up hugging himself tight and tucking into as small a ball as he can, trying to focus on breathing, insisting it's just in his head, he can get through this.

Can he?


II - (w)Holesome fun

Bruce found his hole very quickly. The urge to climb in was strong, but he barely resisted - probably because he didn't so much as touch it with a finger, instead opting to skirt around it, staring longingly into the perfect, warm space...

But he avoids it and turns away, looking around at all the other holes. Is there a Hulk shaped hole? Now that would be ridiculous.

Then as he's moving, trying to see if anyone is stuck, a horrible sudden chill goes through him, and he just knows.

Snapping his head up, he calls, "Please, step away from that hole."

holy guacamole

[lednikovyy]

Bucky can't help giving into the call of the mountain. He can't help the way his feet take him to it, one foot in front of the other until he comes to the holes.

He remembers, distantly, that one of the deer had tried to stop him and it had torn his sleeve in the process, but considering the fact that that arm is entirely missing, the sleeve's not much of a concern. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he remembers that the deer protect them, but that thought can't overcome the need he has to find his place here.

Climbing up the surface is hard, even for him. He's got all his strength, but only one arm and a lot of weight to pull up and just when he thinks he's finally found the right one, he hears a voice and his head snaps towards it.

"I can't."

clary fairchild | shadowhunters

[pencilled]

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY; (option 1)

[ The comic book store doesn’t get a lot of patrons — or, at least, ones that will interact with her. She’s not sure why she was hired, in all honesty. A lot of the townspeople refuse to let her ring them up, and don’t interact with her when they come for their tournaments.

But. It’s a paycheck. And she can catch up on some of the older issues of the indie comics she prefers to read while she sits and mans the cash register. She likes the quiet the place affords her. And if she’s being entirely honest, she likes that it reminds her of Simon. True, the patrons don’t look like him — he’s not a saturated, technicolor, person. But he liked comics, and he liked card games, and if she can have even just a little piece of home, then she’ll take it.

Even if it is a little boring.

She’s got an old, faded, copy of an old Marvel comic titled ‘Mystic Comics’, today, paged open to a story about a minion of Satan known as The Black Widow. She’s still glancing up every now and then when the door opens and the bell signalling someone is walking in sounds, and she raises her hand in a wave. ]

Welcome! Can I help you find something today?

IS THAT ANIME? (option 2)

[ On her days off from work and classes, Clary spends time at the cafe. She’ll be the first to tell you that she bleeds coffee, although she does find it a little weird that the baristas there can never seem to remember her order or her name, despite the fact she’s there almost every day.

She is, at least, left alone for the most part, by the Townies. Which is good, because it means she can people watch. The bright colors of the people who live here always catch her artistic eye, and today is no different.

She’s seated in a corner, sketchpad out, colored pencils scattered on the table in front of her. She’s in luck today, too — she opted to get a croissant with her latte, so if you get her attention, she might actually respond, unless she’s too busy trying to capture the exact shade of pink that colors the hair of the barista currently manning the espresso bar. ]


THE SISTERS OF KOJI POND (option 3)
[ Tonight’s walk home from work feels… different. She chalks it up to the weather, sticky hot, her clothing making her feel like nothing more than a sweaty sausage. She’s looking forward to a shower, but the lazy night coupled with the smell of a distant bonfire has Clary taking her time on her route. It’s peaceful, if soggy, and she almost doesn’t hear the laughter at first.

Clary stops in her tracks, her heart seizing up, because &mdash ] Mom?

[ It’s not the thick air that keeps her from breathing. Clary whirls around, distress marring her features until her gaze lands on the cat. The consternation of seeing it stops her movement, and her confusion is only compounded when it opens it’s jaw and laughs — exactly like her mother.

When it stands up, Clary follow, pulling her seraph blade from the sheathe on her thigh, although she doesn’t extend it. Not yet. There’s something weird going on here, and as the cat travels on, so does she, her suspicion (and fear) only growing the longer she trails after. It’s the darkness that causes her to release her weapon, the sight of the two women sending an otherworldly chill down her spine.

She can’t see anything — even to her Sight they look normal, but something isn’t right, even as the far woman sternly tells her to come and the near woman laughs and tells her to stay. Clary tosses a glance the other woman’s way, but steps closer to the laughing woman —

And immediately regrets that choice. Her blade is dropped to the ground as hair shoots out, wrapping around her wrists and throat, tight enough that Clary can barely breathe, the heat hitting her like a wall. She digs her heels into the ground, but it’s soft and doesn’t do much.

And the woman laughs and laughs. ]


BYOB (option 4)
(( got a different idea? feel free to leave me a prompt of your own! you can also catch me on plurk at johanssons if you want to brainstorm something. ))

option 1;

[nojockey]

[ by now, sean's figured out that this place is as different from thisby as can be. the population's thinner than skarmouth's and much more colorful at that, aggressively american (to sean's island sensibilities), and full of things he's never seen before in his life. diners, for one, a library as huge as st. columba's, pubs and entertainment the likes of which had never come to sean's tiny island.

so, with corr squared away (as well as he can be, anyhow), sean's doing a bit of exploring, wandering through the town on foot and popping into shops as he sees fit. flights of fancy don't suit him, but it's nonetheless a flight of fancy that drives him into the shop with the comics in the window. ]

I don't know. [ that's the truth. sean's not looking for anything particular, so he's not sure if she can help him find it. he's never even actually seen a comic book before. ] What sort of store is this?

shuten douji 🎀 fate/grand order

[deheaded]

ARRIVAL. ( no aliens this time. )
NOTE: link provided is semi-nsfw! cw: alcoholism

[ this is not death — of that, shuten is sure. she has been dead. she has faced death with a demon's face and not backed down, embraced fully her nature and her fate, and this — is wrong. heroic spirits don't sleep, so the very action of waking up makes shuten's mind bend itself around in confusion. soft music and a comfortable bed; even if servants all had their own rooms at chaldea, this is much, much different. there's nothing about this place in her mind at all and that is perhaps the most unsettling piece of information shuten has: the absence of information. upon summoning to chaldea she would be told everything there is to know about the time she had been brought to, but now there is nothing. no location, no year, no sensation of magic tethering her to her new master.

whatever magic this is, it's powerful, and shuten's purple eyes harden for a moment before she relaxes. almost never is an oni caught off-guard by something, so this is a welcome change of pace from all the fun chaldea brings to her. of course she'll miss her master, but the time in front of her should be spent entertaining herself. and so shuten pulls on her purple kimono and lets it hang open, not bothering to tie the obi just yet.

choice a, for the men
she'll save that for when she finds a rather gorgeous looking man while she's traveling the streets, tipping her head to the side and lifting a fingertip to her lips. ] Ah, you there, boy! [ within her mind she hopes that this man is uncomfortable with the amount of skin she's showing, and she approaches on seemingly bare feet. ] Boy, could you help me?

[ something about her — maybe it's her short stature, barely crossing into five feet — or maybe it's her cute face, but something about this woman seems trustworthy. surely there's no harm in helping her with whatever it is she needs, right?

choice b, for the lush
well, her name means "little drunkard," so perhaps it's no surprise that later on in the day, shuten douji can be found in the bar the hair of the dog, several empty glasses of varying sizes and shapes spread out in front of her. despite all the alcohol she's consumed (and it has been a fair amount), she is no worse for wear, completely in control of herself as she orders another round. there might be a group of people around her, or she might be alone, but either way, if you make eye contact with her, her smile will beckon you closer. a delicate hand props up her chin, and shuten slides her foot out in front of her chair. ] And how long have you been here? [ she'll begin like it's the middle of a conversation, like the two characters have been friends for ages. when she smiles — is that a fang? no, couldn't be. must be a trick of the light, surely. ]

KOJI POND. ( just like home. )
cw: references to people-eating.

[ finally, she'll hum to herself upon seeing the twin-tailed cat make its way down the street, something of home. not home in chaldea, but home in kyoto, when gods and monsters rampaged in nature surrounding humanity's many towns. the laughter is different, but shuten isn't fussed at all, instead gently making her way toward the creature once it's paused, reaching a hand forward to slide a fingertip between its ears. a second of touch is all that the cat will allow before continuing to make its way through the streets, but it doesn't get too far ahead. shuten considers following it, perhaps trying to catch it. after all, they are both humanitarians...

choice c, for the brave
shuten can be found either casually walking down the street with a giant, blue glass drinking gourd strapped to her back, or just... casually... leaping around from rooftop to rooftop in a game of demons, almost as though she's trying to play tag with the creature. she'll drop down in front of the almost glowing white cat before reaching into her kimono sleeve and pulling out a small piece of meat. it's a magical construct, no nutritional value at all, but maybe the cat doesn't know that. how silly, a woman like her playing with a cat in the summer's eve like this. but hey, if you ask nicely, she can make some food for your character too, and you can both try to feed the stray.

choice d, for the indecisive
the pop and hiss of the bonfire in the distance makes shuten pause for a split second. perhaps it would be better to join the humans, to drink and, perhaps, to feast. no... no, the pull of something familiar is too great, and so shuten continues her walk down to the pond, stopping only when she sees that her nekomata friend is running toward the water. a demon shuten is, but even she knows that cats have an aversion to such things, and her hands fold into the long material of her kimono sleeves.

the world is darkening, and before her stand two women. this is the first time shuten has ever seen a nekomata become human again, and that gives her pause. but perhaps... they're not human? nekomata aren't known for their shapeshifting, and it is with a sigh that shuten shrugs the drinking gourd off of her back and sets up camp on the soft ground beneath her. a red laquer dish manifests in her hand and the alcohol (it is alcohol, the smell guarantees it) is shimmering and multi-colored. it looks almost poisonous, but it doesn't stop shuten from lifting the dish to her lips and taking a sip as someone else approaches the pond. ]

Which will you choose?

[ her voice cuts through the thick darkness, soft but carrying a kind of authority befitting one of japan's great calamities. ]

WILDCARD
pm me if you wanna do something different!!

x'rhun tia | final fantasy xiv

[vermillon]

the sisters of koji pond

[A cat with two tails? You don't see that every day-- X'rhun himself only has one, and its fur is standing on end despite his curiosity, showing that he does have a healthy dose of caution despite his intrigue. That's why he has one hand on the hilt of his blade as he follows it all the way to the sisters.

He's not expecting someone else with him though, and cant tell if they're friend or foe. But now that he has someone else to worry about, whether they're a fellow in not knowing what in the world is going on. X'rhun wont take much chances when it comes to safety, his and possibly his companion's as well.]

Seems we've a difficult choice ahead of us, my friend! [As much as he tries to sound pleasant and unbothered, his Gyr Abanian accent is thicker than usual with how strained he sounds. Tired. And just a little pained.]

Personally... [His voice lowers, until it's no more than a deep rumble in his throat.] I think I would prefer to approach the more solemn sibling. I'm wary of the other-- a cheerful face can be a truly effective facade.

[It's not a choice for who is better-- it's a choice for who is the lesser of two dangers, X'rhun thinks.]

this is my hole!

[Perhaps attempting to reach the mountain in his condition is not the best of ideas. But X'rhun is nothing but tenacious, and he doesn't think much of himself to begin with.

And if he sees someone attempting to go at it by their lonesome... Well, he cant help but lend a hand, even if his side is threatening to kill him. He tries to keep up the cheerful chatter through the journey to ignore the ominous moaning his ears pick up in the wind, but stops completely short when he sees that giant slab of rock.]

I-- [He reels back, furry tail swinging behind him and agitating his cape and coattails.]

What in Azeyma's name...?

oh it's a wildcard

[His tail lashing behind him is the only outward indicator of X'rhun's agitation. If one were to pay more attention when he sweeps his hat off of his head, though, they would also see his ears twitching. And if one were to stick around a little longer, they'd find him yanking at the cravat, undoing the straps and clasps of his coat, and pulling it open to reveal... A long and deep slash curving around the left side of his abdomen, still fresh and bleeding. A previously clean cut made messy with blood and exertion. How did that go unnoticed for a while? Because his outfit is red, of course.

No wonder X'rhun is really not having a good day. He has been walking around with a would like that.]

Ah, Twelve take me. That's unfortunate...

[Then his ears stop twitching, before laying back flat against his hair, and his tail fluffs out. He's only just sensed someone nearby and is not pleased.]

Who's there?

oh it's a wildcard

[justbeingknife]

Unfortunate's one way to put it. How long you been walking around cut up like that?

[ Long enough, it seemed. Majima took in the wound, the cravat, the... ears... ]

We're close to the F.E.A.R. building. Want me to patch ya up?

sean kendrick / the scorpio races

[nojockey]

ARRIVAL

[ a bed. a house he doesn't recognize. sounds that are not his home, air that smells different than what he knows. all things that tell sean, with the certainty of knowing his own name, that this is a dream. without the tang of salt on the air or the sound of hoarse-throated gulls cawing above, this place is unfamiliar enough to let him believe that it isn't real.

it can't be real. it can't, but it is, enough so that he should treat it as such.

so. letter read, beans eaten, keys in his pocket and jacket on. he notes with some curiosity the things on his person: holly berries and salt in his pockets, ribbon and iron. corr's saddle hangs on the arm of a chair, with his bridle and his reins, but there's no sea here, so how can there be a capall? even in sean's nightmares he would never bring a water horse so far onto land that the sea didn't taste of salt on his lips.

through the window, the sound of hooves on concrete. he is wrong; corr is here. sean knows that too, somehow instinctive, can smell the brine and seaweed and foam. but when he goes outside with his hand reaching for the ribbon in his pocket, corr is nowhere to be seen.

it's with some urgency that sean makes his way up the streets, asking passersby (manx accent heavy): ] Have you seen a horse? Sixteen hands, red stallion. Might be eating something you'd think a horse shouldn't. [ like, uh, a person. or a person's dog. ]

[stilinski]

[Stiles still isn't used to being here, or as used to it as he imagines is possible which is still not very much. Every day brings new oddities, sometimes horrors, and just as often the uncanniness of viewing something familiar through a fog of terror. He's constantly counting fingers and reading any scrap of text around him to check whether or not this is a dream, or maybe if he's once again fallen prey to something that's very good at convincing him that reality is not what it should be.

So he has a bad habit of walking around while looking at his hands, touching thumb to index and middle and ring and pinky while mumbling numbers to himself. He's in the middle of this ritual when the words red stallion jar him from his thoughts, and he looks up at the man he'd almost smacked into without realizing it.]

How the hell did you lose a red horse that has sixteen hands?

Airy Miller ~ Original Character

[imaginationswoes]

ARRIVAL/CITY

This wasn't right and it wasn't just the fact that she'd woken up in a strange bed, in a strange house, with a basket of stuff for her. That actually felt fairly normal... which made Airy wonder if she had to rethink her more recent life choices.

Later, there would be time to think later. Right now she had a note that looked like it was typed on a typewriter, which was pretty cool, and she had to eat some of the food. It kind of reminded her of the exact opposite of that Labyrinth movie with the monster that had eyes in his palms. Pan's Labyrinth! That's what it had been called. Airy really hadn't liked that movie. Well she did, she's seen it more than once, but there was no good reason to like it. It had been very disturbing.

Airy spent a good hour staring at the basket, in the middle of her new home, zoning out. She didn't eat anything yet. Her stomach wasn't agreeing with her and she was fairly sure that if she ate something that she'd just throw it back up again.

So she gathered what little focus she had left and went exploring.

It felt like the right thing to do though Airy was finding the towns people both creepy and unhelpful. Those betty people reminded her a little too much of an old-timey cartoon but without the comical wiggle of a large finger.

After what felt like a long trek through town and no Pokémon Go to keep her occupied, she found a bench and took a seat. It was nice out, nice-ish, but the weather didn't really settle Airy's nerves. "I spent 18 years in Maine and had never heard of this place." Which made her think that she wasn't actually in Maine.

"And I'm talking to myself. I am somewhere weird and I'm talking to myself." She closed her eyes and exhaled, giving herself a moment or two to gather her thoughts.

Airy didn't know how much time had passed but after awhile, her stomach rumbled... loudly.

SISTERS

She had always liked animals, Airy had volunteered at the animals shelter in the next town over through most of High School, but she had never seen a cat with two tails. Okay, it wasn't the weirdest thing she's seen and it was actually quite pretty but it was still pretty weird.

"Hey." Airy called to it as she followed a few steps behind. Her sneakers scrapped against the ground and the cat... wasn't a cat. "Huh?" She blinked, paused, and after a moment or two of staring rudely at the woman she continued to follow. That's what it wanted... wasn't it? For her to follow it.

Her steps slowed to a stop as she came across the two women. "Okay..."

Bright azure blue eyes looked around her but there was only darkness and... the women were talking to her? Airy turned sharply towards the pair. It was rude not to look at someone who was talking to you. "Excuse me but..." They wanted her to sit with them. That wasn't so bad but it did beg the question of where Airy should sit. Her first instinct was to sit by the laughing woman except, it looked like the other woman needed the company more. She looked... so sad. Airy didn't like seeing her that sad.

She bowed towards the laughing woman and spoke. "I'm sorry. I'll sit with you next time." And then turned away, to see if maybe she could cheer up the woman who wasn't smiling.

HOLE

Exploring quickly turned into getting lost and Airy was beginning to expect a cannibalistic version of the Cheshire cat to show up in the forest and point her in the wrong direction. That didn't happen but she was ready for it.

"I don't get lost." She proclaimed to a tree; which thankfully did not talk back to her. "But I'm lost..." This time she admitted it to the forest floor which also didn't respond.

Airy sighed but continued forward. "Hello?! Anyone out there?" What was that thing about not moving if you got lost? Would that work if no one knew she was out here?

She continued through the underbrush, stopping in front of a large stone wall. "Wow." Bright blue eyes dragged up the length of the wall before she cautiously stepped closer. There were marks that were... people shaped. Of course they were people shaped. Airy put her foot on the stone and tried to climb while avoiding the people shaped holes. She was fairly sure that something would pop out and eat her if she got too close. She was also thinking that she'd be able to see over the trees and find her way back to the town if she climbed high enough.

That didn't happen. What did happen involved a very ungraceful tumble back to the forest floor and a loud thump followed by a pained groan.

WILDCARD

[ooc: I am good with any of the TD prompts if you want something else or anything really. Airy is an OC but I have a lot of information about her and her powers on her journal. Feel free to let me know if you have any questions. She was born in Maine and finds this whole world weird. She's also an adorable cinnamon roll. If you want to poke me I'm at mizuyoko. I am also cool with Airy dying if someone wants to do the before/during/after of that.]

Hole

[shuttersense]

She had heard a voice. A new voice. Usually the lures in were a little more nonsensical, or moans or groans. Instead...it sounded as if someone was lost.

So Rei left the trail, walking with a camera in one hand-though she did pause for a few moments when she heard the groan. Wait...they might need her help.

Rei bit down on her lip, and kept going, bursting through the tree line-and saw the gray wall, and the woman on the ground.

"Oh dear." She strode forward, and set her camera to the side. "Hey. Are you all right?"

Daryl Dixon | The Walking Dead (forgive me I have no icons yet)

[a_tiger]

Koji Pond

When Daryl walked down the street, he responded to the sound nearby by turning fast on his heel and pointing his crossbow down at.. a cat. A cat with two tails? What the hell? This place had some weird critters. He wasn't sure what to make of the thing, but he felt compelled to follow it for some reason.

Fearless as he was, Daryl went all the way to the pond, and when he was forced to choose between the two... well, he never liked being told what to do. Not unless it was coming from a friend. Clearly, he chose poorly. The hair wound around him and began dragging him toward the laughing woman.

"Get offa me!" Daryl responded by pointing his crossbow and firing. And that really pissed her off. The fires spring up and Daryl continues to fight with the woman. He pushes away whenever he can, only to be grabbed again. He tries to stab her with his knife, thrusting it deep into her chest, but it does nothing. The longer he struggles, the weaker he feels until he's losing all of his energy.

How's he supposed to figure out he's got to roast some damn beans to win this fight??


Arrival

Daryl is no stranger to bad dreams, but that one was weirder than most. When he woke up in bed, he was in a cold sweat. For a few moments, he just stared at the ceiling, mistaking the room for one at the Hilltop. Something didn't feel right, though, and he knew it once he sat up in bed and looked around. "The hell?"

Once out of bed, he looked around but there was no sign of his things. At least he woke up in his regular clothes, but that was only a slight comfort. Where were his weapons? His crossbow? "Shit." Daryl muttered to himself and took a look out the window, but it was dark. Then he turned his attention to the door and tested it, only to find it unlocked. If someone had snatched him up, they weren't too smart if they were going to leave his room unlocked and unguarded.

He went creeping about the house, taking every corner cautiously until he was sure the place was empty. In the kitchen, he found a butcher knife and held it securely in his hand. Now armed, he would venture out the front door appearing as though he expected to be attacked at any moment.

Wildcard!

[Down for anything!]

Arrival

[imaginationswoes]

Airy was passing by Daryl's door at the exact moment that he had dared to venture outside. She screamed. That felt like the correct reaction when someone was holding a knife and looked like they were going to stab something with it. Her hand moved over her heart and as she stumbled backwards she slammed her shoulders against the opposite wall.

"Hey!" Her voice was indignant. "Why are you carrying a knife like that?! You could stab someone!" That was probably the idea but after waking up in a strange new town, Airy really didn't want to think about random people also stabbing her with knifes.

That would really suck.

jack frost ❄ rise of the guardians

[winterwork]

▪ arrival.

[ Jack Frost doesn't belong anywhere. Arriving in a world that isn't his own (not that it was ever really his anyway) almost doesn't shake him as much as he'd have expected. After all, he'd just ruined Easter, ruined the possibility of the only friends he'd found in over two hundred years, and ruined the chance to ever truly understand who he really is. He wouldn't have been surprised if the spirits had decided to exile him away elsewhere.

When he floats through the wind, an instinct that comes from the muscle memory in holding his wooden staff that allows him the ability to glide up, he rushes up forward, aiming amongst the clouds. Getting away from the ground and everyone on it was a bad habit he'd rather not outgrow.

But he's stopped. ]

Wind? [ He calls out to what he's always seen as an old friend, for as much as the weather can be a friend, but his shoulders droop in his old hoodie when there's no response in the form of being taken higher.

Was he trapped here? Was this part of his punishment for failing as a Guardian?

Swooping down, he glides to perch on the rough surface of a fence overlooking a sidewalk, balancing himself with ease. With a furrowed brow, distraught lingering on his face, he gives his staff a light wave, in the hopes for something hopeful.

Suddenly, a light snowfall glitters from above in a small perimeter around him and he manages the hint of a difficult smile. ]

Least I still got that going for me.

▪ the sisters of koji pond.

[ Jack has come to engage with his share of peculiar spirits, being a very peculiar one himself. But these prior engagements have always been limited in their wake since spirits don't have spare fondness for a mischievous boy like himself who sees little room for work and all the time for play.

He doesn't doubt these women share similar qualities with himself in the otherwordly sense, but there's - something not right.

His bare feet shuffle against the floor hearing comfort in the lightness of her laughter, like an old familiar song he can't quite remember the lyrics to, and if he listens carefully, he thinks he can almost hear the joyful cry of his name on her tongue - Jack! Jack!

A smile begins to rise at the corner of his lips ...

And then the expanse of her slick hair wraps around his frail, lithe body, ensnaring him in darkness as he screams in anguish. Jack wriggles around in the trap but the hair tightens between his fingers and the crooked staff, preventing him from summoning a possible ice spell that could save him from the torment. ]

Wha-!? H-hey! Let go!

sisters of koji pond.

[nerded]

[ Amidst the long ropes of thick black hair is a line of webbing that cuts through some of the strands to twist around Jack's arm like an anchor.

Spider-Man, from the fairly high vantage point of a particularly dark lamp post, pulls him forward with as much of his strength as he can muster. These sisters aren't messing around.

It's a kind of dumb luck that Spidey just so happened to be swinging through the city, but a part of him had been following the white cat too. Kind of. Well - sort of. Maybe he'd been on a kind of patrol, looking for clues about this place right up until he'd heard the cry for help. Maybe he heard laughter, too. ]

Hold on! [ Did we mention he's wearing red and blue spandex? And for a second, Spider-Man's eyes - the eyes on his mask, that is - widen in surprise. He hadn't expected the hair to start extending forward, reaching for him like super creepy fingers. ] Uh - I've got you, I've got you! [ He has to leap out of the way, still tethered to Jack by way of web. ] - whoa!

[ This isn't exactly going to plan. ]

shuri | mcu

[nanoengineer]

ARRIVAL;

[ sleep comes infrequently for shuri, pushed aside for work and research. it's necessary only when the sentences in her head become disjointed and her train of thought falters. she doesn't remember making it to her bed when she wakes up on the forest floor staring up at impossibly tall trees.

it's almost pleasant, leaves blowing gently in the wind. leaf litter and o horizon soft beneath her body. it's almost pleasant. and then it's not. the once soft leaves on the ground kick up around her, dislodging small rocks and sharp sticks that poke and claw at her back as she's dragged across the forest floor. it hurts and the world shifts and tilts, making her stomach flip and shuri's a breath away from screaming when she hears a voice.

"I'm so sorry, but you might be able to help..."

it takes a moment for her to recognize the voice as real. that the words hold meaning and shuri's just grasped hold of them when the voice continues.

"Promise... you won't be gone for long."

the thud is low, but unmistakable and the time between the voice and the hooves is so sharp she doesn't know what's happening until the deer is standing over her. shuri lets out a loud piercing scream, fear making her limbs shake as it bites and pushes at her. she can't see anything, the green blur of the trees above her and the brown fur of the deer. her heart is racing and then she's waking up in a soft, unfamiliar bed and slipping from the sheets in a loud thud against the floor. shuri blinks for a moment, heart still racing and when she looks around the room... she doesn't recognize a thing. ]

Where the hell am I? [ she asks, more to make sure that the voice actually works than anything else. ]

I LOVE YOU: PLEASE LOVE ME BACK;

[ the morning is beautiful. unlike any other. shuri can feel the happiness in her chest, sprouting like a seedling and shooting up like vines of ivy. it's the first time she can remember feeling true, deep happiness and it feels like it's building up inside her. she wants to run and scream and laugh, because life is beautiful despite everything. despite the world she's ended up in. it's gorgeous and crazy and someone needs to share this feeling with her. someone, somewhere out there must feel the same way.

the sun outside is warm and bright, brighter still than it had been yesterday. she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, that feeling of intense and unabashed happiness extending out to her limbs and fingers. she sees them from a distance, someone walking up the street and shuri can't help but grin wide. she throws out an arm and waves furiously. ]

Good morning! [ she calls out enthusiastically, once they're in earshot. ] Is this not the most beautiful day you have seen here?

arrival

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky doesn't keep a very close eye on the people appearing here. Half the time, even if he knows them, they don't recognize him, and the other people he knows he keeps a close enough eye on, but he knows that if anyone else familiar shows up, he'll stumble onto them one way or another.

Today, he's been following one of the deer--a cute, stumpy one who seems playful--through the woods behind some houses. He can't always tell when they're trying to tell him something or when they just want him to give them treats, but he doesn't really mind either way. It's not like his time is exactly precious here.

At first, he thinks he's hearing things when he hears Shuri through the window, but he has to take a closer look, even as the deer he'd been following sprints away.

That's what brings him to the window near her bed in a T-shirt and jeans, the left sleeve hanging empty. His facial hair is a little more trimmed than she might be used to seeing on him, but he hasn't cut his hair any shorter. ]

Shuri?

Logan \\\ X-Men Movies/The Wolverine /// OTA

[donthithimintheballs]

\\\Arrival///

"Jean?" he tried to say at first while dreaming, being dragged across the ground roughly wasn't a new sensation for him but being unable to tell what that voice speaking was, was a new one. Deer, voices he couldn't recognize, being dragged, and then waking up with a start in a bed that wasn't his.

In a house he didn't know. With a basket of gifts he didn't want. The man snarled, alone in a strange house and a note in hand telling him to keep this shit. What the hell was going on? He was DREAMING? Well if that was so, where was Jean? Where were all the horrible dreams of him stabbing someone awake?

Pushing forward he headed for the front door, stepping out and squinting a moment. Why did it feel so foggy here? Maybe it was just a dream after all. In the distance a fuzzy figure was walking hi way. So that was where he was going to start.

"Hey, bub! Gotta moment?" Logan says, be it a man or woman. He's tall and in jeans and a beaten and battered white tank top. He'd clearly seen better times, even for just waking up.

\\\The Sisters of Koji Pond///

This was Japanese for sure. This was Japan? Was he awake again? The dream seemed foggy though, and that cat has two tails. Must be dreaming, but he had just been in Japan before he woke up, or at least found himself in this place.

He jerked to a stop as he realized he was looking at two ladies and not a cat now. And when they were across from a pond from each other. One demanded he go to her now, the other laughed and spoke of impoliteness. He felt like he was being forced to choose a side when all he wanted to do was leave.

"Look, ladies. No offence, but I got someone waiting for me back in the waking, so..." He waved a hand at them and started to try walking back the way he came ... only to have to stop as it appears someone ELSE was standing there. Or just arrived maybe? "For fucks sake..."

Logan stopped there, taking a step back again to look at whoever just arrived. He himself was dusty mess of ripped jeans and a dirty tank top that had seen better days. Boots were old and tired, hair was sticking up on end at either side of his head (like a bad cartoon superhero creature), and his eyes were tired of all this. He frowned at the person before saying, simply enough. "Sorry."

Eames | Inception

[phishy]

𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻.

(The job was supposed to be completed. Which meant one of two things: Dom had lied about there being more levels or someone Eames had fucked over in the past had finally caught up to him. The troubling thing was that he had well and truly fucked over many people in the past to the extent that this wasn't a far stretched possibility.

What truly stumped him was the fact that this dream felt extremely potent. Whoever built it had no intention of him being fooled into thinking he was living his regular life. Oh no. The architecture was immaculate. Made Ariadne's work look like a fourth grader's attempt at dream building. He was taking a stroll, trying to get a grasp on what was going on. A cigarette was hanging from his lip, unlit, as he approached various different objects, ghosting his hands over them and picking up the intricate detail.

If he didn't know any better, he'd be duped properly by this place. The brick felt real under his finger tips. He finally stops, flicking his lighter and lighting up his cigarette. Another oddity was that the subconscious of this person seemed mixed up with people who...felt real to Eames. He knew the difference, all right, better than most.

Eventually he removed his glock. A few of the Townspeople eyed him warily, and some even crossed streets. Interesting. He checked his gun. It was fully loaded. Then he proceeded to raise it up to his temple only to stop short. Sighing, he shook his head.)

Bloody hell. Last thing I need....(He puts his hands on his hips, gun included, and stares up at the sky.) Who did I fuck over so badly?

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂.

(Maybe this really was a dream. Two tailed cats? Oh, lord, he knows the name of the damned thing. What was it again? He'd seen ancient Japanese scrolls back in someone's home once. Every instinct told him not to investigate. But ah, he was never very good at following his own advice. Besides, there was a bit of shamelessness to him when it came to being in a dream world. He knew the thread of Limbo was very real....

...However, he also knew that the realities of dreams could be bent. This dream in particular seemed very flexible. So sue him for seeing if someone had managed to go beyond replicating the real world. That'd be incredible, frankly. So he follows the cat. He notices the stars dotting out, and he thinks that this might be it. The big reveal.

Except he winds up with two birds and, at some point, a companion. He stares from the laughing woman to the stern woman and then to whoever was the lucky duck to have joined him in his merry chase.)

I guess curiosity really does kill the cat. (He cracks a grin because apparently now was the time for God awful jokes.) Call me superstitious, but I've got a hunch these broads don't mean very well.

Arrival

[justbeingknife]

[ There was the brief jingle of a shop bell as Majima stepped out onto the street. ]

You on that many shit lists?

[ He glanced over Eames's handgun, then back up at what was apparently the kind of man who'd hold a gun to his own head. True, it was all supposed to be a dream, but... ]

Haven't seen you around before. Just get here?

Loki | The Bifrost Incident

[gotaholdonme]

Arrival:
She walks like she's being pulled along, like the world has a hold of her and she's just drifting along for the ride. Loki doesn't know how she got here, how the world turned upside down and she ended up in this place. It's strange, ghostly in her mind and even though she's not sure what happened, she's here now, away from where she had been.

And she's relieved.

She hardly knew what was happening to her before but this is peaceful in comparison. No one gawks at her as she moves through the carriages, no one whispers about her. The things in her brain still stir, restless and hungry and eager, but that's almost normal at this point.

She's used to them, at least a little bit, but this place is new and strange. It's a dream she's not sure she wants to wake up from and more than anything, it's a little freedom from the world she had been in before now.

Loki looks around, curious to see if there is anyone who might ping her brain as familiar, though she's not expecting it. When she sees someone interesting, she'll follow them, quiet and interested, confused and uncertain. She's not entirely sure what she's doing but she's going to explore one way or the other.

Koji Pond
She doesn't trust the laughter, doesn't trust the way the woman smiles. Something in her mind riles up against the kindness, hisses and growls, and she finds herself going to the more stoic one instead.

It's all odd, confusing and strange and she's not sure she's doing anything right but does as she's told, watching as the sky lights up with scattered stars once again. She doesn't turn her head to look behind her, though she considers it for a moment.

Instead Loki walks away, confused and holding onto a single soybean, keeping one of those stars for herself, just in case she might need it later.

The Word Eater | Original Chracter

[saysweetprayers]

Arrival

Well, this is... different. He's strolling through the streets, studying the place he has found himself in. It's a curious thing, he's never experienced something like this before. It's different and that? Well, that's exciting.

A part of him recognizes this dreaming place, knows it as his brother's feeding ground, but it's not his domain and thus he has no power here. No more than he had on the normal plane of existence he chooses to live upon. He does notice though, the tingle in his throat, the desire for language.

That, as it turns out, is also different.

"hello," he says, his voice soft, almost tentative. He's hardly spoken in all his years, the feeling often leaving him feeling disgusted, but now? Now things are different. In the Dreaming, as he's coming to think of it, there's a strangeness to producing his own words, an excitement to it.

"Well," he says to himself. "This is going to be fun."


Koji Pond
He finds himself face to face with the two women, a choice being presented to him. Of course he's been around long enough to see this trap, to know what is the better option yet there's still a part of him that is tempted to see what happens when he goes with the laughter and supposed lightness the less stoic of the two provides.

He's not going to, not right now, but he seriously considers it all the same.

In the end, he goes with the safer option, choosing to scatter the soybeans and let the stars light his way back away from that particular bit of strangeness.

The last soybean gets tossed into the air, lighting up the sky and he smiles, turning his head towards the stars.

"It's not going to be dull here," he whispers to the sky. "Now is it?"

Allura | Voltron

[princessences]

Arrival.

[ It's often that Allura dreams in green. Of the rolling hills that climb up to the mountains, fields of soft grass dotted with the magenta flowers she loved so dearly. Of a home that exists only in memory. There's sadness and comfort in that, but she tries to lean on the latter. The dream starts out familiar, but the fields give way to trees, so tall and imposing that they can blot out the sun. Vibrant green turns to shadow and she is definitely no longer "home".

The sensation of being dragged, unfamiliar voices, a creature she's never seen before all register and feel too real. It's not the most terrifying dream she's ever had, but it is unwelcome. She resists and there is immediate relief when she jerks awake.

Relief that dissipates as soon as her eyes open.

This is not her room. This is not the Castle. Everything about it is immediately wrong and Allura figures she must be dreaming again. Except the dream is slow, tick by tick, and suddenly so uneventful as she sits up on an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by wood rather than smooth metal. The air smells different. The sheets she grips are different. She picks up music that might be gentle, but to her more sensitive hearing and the growing panic in her stomach feels threatening.

No. Do not panic, she tells herself.

Slow breaths.

If this is a dream it's a terrifyingly realistic one. But Allura has since experienced alternate realities, hidden and mystical realms that ought not exist. If the Castleship had somehow gotten caught in a time rift--yet, if they were making a jump Allura should have been involved...--well, there are possibilities and she must consider all of them. And be on guard.

The building itself seems quaint to her, but gives no clues as to her location that she understands. Stepping outside is not any better. She is clearly in some sort of residential area, though the architecture is all off. She tries to hail the ship, tapping one of her earrings. ]

Come in! This is Allura. Do you read me?

[ Silence. ]

Coran? Come in! Is anyone there?

[ This is increasingly frustrating. And probably not the best time for Allura to be approached. Which is why when she hears a step too close, she's on the defensive immediately and whirls around. ]

Who is there!?

Sisters of Koji Pond.

[ The weather is a little oppressive, but not unbearable. She much prefers the heat to the cold if she has that option, so Allura takes the summer evening as an opportunity to explore and note her new surroundings. Had this been a visit of her own choosing she might very well find the place agreeable, but she has her reservations. It's calm and as is she, much more so than she had been upon arrival.

The streets make her feel as if she has traveled back in time. Back into the ancient histories when the farthest Alteans had traveled was to the cliffs and clouds of their home, ever dreaming of the stars beyond. Long, long, long ago, even before her 10,000 year rest. It does make her feel a little trapped, but she does her best to ignore it.

The moon is beautiful, after all. Or at least it had been. What happened to it? Allura pauses in her walk, brows furrowing as she looks up at the sky. ]

...I could have sworn--

[ The laughter pulls her attention down to the ground. And before her stands a cat. But, for all she knows, cats normally have two tails and a glow of their own in this place, so this is likely just another example of the local fauna. It is kind of cute. Allura smiles and kneels down, resting her arms on her knees. ]

Hello, there. You surprised me! But you're very cute, you know.

[ And then it laughs. Very human-like.

That is...normal, isn't it? Why does it feel wrong? Well, she is in no position to judge. There is a lot that Allura is still learning about this place. ]

Oh...! I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in any patronizing way.

[ Someone please help the alien as she talks to this monster cat like it's no big deal. ]

Arrival

[shuttersense]

Easy.

[Seeing the way that Allura had walked out of the house had Rei venture over, curious as to what she was up to. But at the whirl around, Rei had her hands up, her expression placid, even calm.]

I'm not armed.

[And Allura...yeah she could beat up Rei pretty easily. She may be five foot six, but she's slender with it.

And notably, there are twin tattoos of antlers just under her collarbones, the edges just hidden under her shirt.]

And I'm not here to hurt you.

scott lang | marvel 616

[antelligent]

pondy rock anthem

[ Scott can be pretty moronic sometimes, but he's pretty damn sure that he isn't moronic enough to pick the friendly-looking motherfucker on the other side of the pond. It's your classic Japanese horror set-up (not that Scott is good at the horror genre, because it's made him weep here and there throughout his many years of life, believe him), complete with the mystical animal creature and now the two weird ladies by the weird pond with the weird sky. He learned long ago through miles of experience with Creepypasta, scary urban legends, and the general horrific history of international cinema that in scenarios like this with a choice between something terrifying and something comforting, you always go for the terrifying option.

Which means that he's scattering soybeans now, his nose crinkling because it smells pretty fantastic. Like he ought to be finding some raw fish to cut, really, though he imagines if he tried searching for any in the pond one of the women might be kicking his ass for it.

He doesn't really notice the stars coming out in the sky. He notices that the place seems to get brighter, sure, but only after several amounts of beans have been scattered, and even then the change in lighting ends up mattering less and less. This is because when Scott takes a moment to lift his head and regard the grim woman who'd given him the beans, he also takes note of someone else across the pond-- someone else who might be looking at either side: at the happy woman, and the grumpy woman with her unsuspecting redhead boy toy.

And he realises.

Shit. ]

Hey! Come this way! [ Because he swears to God if this bojo ruins the atmosphere of safety Scott's cultivated for himself because they picked the wrong woman, then he's going to throw himself into the pond face down. ]

stitchy love songs

[ Today is simultaneously the best and worst day of his life, and Scott isn't sure if he wants to laugh or cry. All he knows is that he wakes up feeling horribly, awfully alone, and that's more than he already feels it on a daily basis. He rolls out of sleep and he's miserable, and he's miserable all morning because it seems there's no-one around.

That being said, actually seeing someone has his heart stopping. His eyes softening. And he opens his mouth to call out. ]

Hey! Hi, good morning! [ His voice cracks, tears starting to well up in the corners of his eyes, and normally he'd feel embarrassed, but-- something tells him that he shouldn't. That this is okay. That the hollowing emptiness in his chest is fine, because it's all going to be okay soon.

Besides, it's not everyday that Scott sees someone from a considerable distance away and then tells himself you know what, I wanna snuggle that person. Sure, he's felt the random urge to hold someone (who doesn't), but usually he has enough self-control not to hug the first person he sees, even if more often than not his life is falling apart and he never really knows what to do about it. All those years of restraint-- surely life's got to throw him a bone now, right? ] You-- yeah, I'm talking to you! Are you running away? Please don't run away!

[ And, because hopefully said person doesn't ignore him for whatever reason, Scott jogs all the way over there and lifts his hand up in something like a wave. He has never been good at this whole self-introduction thing, and he can imagine the totally creepy agenda of wanting to hold someone close only makes that worse.

It's not like he's going to say "I'm Scott, can I hug you?", though. Please. ]

This place is off the charts with freaky, right? [ He laughs, rubbing the side of his neck. ] Uh... to be honest, I'm barely holding in a-- a, uh, minor emotional breakdown. You know. As you do.

And I was wondering... I'm Scott. Can I hug you?

[ Well. At least he didn't say it right away. ]

where the wild(card) things are

[ Hit him up. Or just hit him. Yadda yadda. I'm more than happy to write a starter for us as well, feel free to PM me to discuss thread ideas! ]

arrival;

[voicelog]

[ the manor seems to be very active lately.

new housemates popping up left and right. tony doesn't particularly mind the sudden increase in occupancy, but he does need to assess them himself first. he doesn't like the idea of someone dangerous potentially showing up and living there, especially since there are kids staying with him now.

but the new arrival in question is not a threat. no, it's... he's an old friend.

the image of the man transmitting through to his feed from the security cameras installed in the house leaves him stunned, to say the least. could it really be him? crazier things have happened, but the last time he saw him—

entering into his temporary home in this nightmarish dreamscape, tony can feel his anticipation, his hesitation, begin to evolve into something akin to... hope for the first time since he'd awoken here. but he doesn't allow it to grow any further. there is a possibility that it isn't him — at least not the him from his world.

it's not hard to locate someone in a place rigged with cameras, so he finds the redhead easily. stopping in the doorway, tony furrows his brows as he utters one defining word: ] ...Scott?

Henry Coles | Impulse

[nakedsingularity]

Arrival-ish

<sub>[There are so many things wrong with this place, she doesn't know where to start--the biggest being she's here when she needs to get home. Now.

Her imagination fills in the blanks with the worst scenarios. Either she just left her mother alive with a dead body, or there will be two waiting for her when she gets back. No, more than likely Thomas and Jenna will get home first and walk in on the carnage. God, the amount of blood Bill must have left... And Jenna-- Jesus, Jenna's seen enough in that house. Is Henry responsible for her discovering another dead mom?

Her heart gives its usual painful, lurching flutter when she thinks along these lines. Sucking in a breath, she presses down on her chest as if physically preventing it from beating out of her skin. She has to get back. One step at a time.

The ancient-looking Deerington school buses are just the kind of public hazard she needs, racing down the roads uncaring of what--or who--might be in their way. So Henry waits. She waits on the street corner watching one of the telltale buses make one of its careening turns around the corner. Almost. She takes a few steps back, calves tensing in anticipation. Almost.

When it's bearing down on her position, Henry breaks into a run, pushing against the flow of foot traffic to lunge in front of it.]</sub>