TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025

[thediadem]

Test Drive ∞ May 2025

The First Collision

©

Jump ⇅ :: Arrival — Panorama — Fringes — Invite Request

The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.

Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.

But first, you need to find a ride.

No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.

∞ Summary ∞

IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.

Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.

Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:

• Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
• Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
• Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
• Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
• Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.

TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.

TDM Questions? Here — Game Questions? FAQ

Setting — Taken — Reserves — Applications ::: ⇅ Top

Fluxdrift

Arrival & Introduction

Date: Throughout May

You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.

Then you open your eyes.

Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.

You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.

Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.

You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender

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Panorama

Explore & Settle In

Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers

After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.

You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.

The Pavilion: Free Samples

©

Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.

Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.

As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.

Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.

The Blocks: Power Outage

©

Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.

What do you do? You have three choices:

• Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
• Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
• Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall

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©

The Fringes

Quad 3: Lockdown

Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads

Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57

> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.

Whether you end up here on your own or you were following a tip on the Forum, the outcome is the same: you come to a stop in front of a 2-story office building that's flooded several inches deep. Emergency lights from a roadblock flicker through the stormy night. Stepping out of your car, you're soaked within seconds. When you check your phone, you don't have any bars. No calls in or out.

Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.

Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.

After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.

A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.

Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.

Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.

• To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
• The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
• With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
• If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.

Let's hope a friendly face comes along.

B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.

• The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
• Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
• You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
• Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.

Of course, you don't have to help anyone. You can leave the individual there, make a deal, or outright extort them. But remember, you're not the only person on these roads. You might want to play your cards carefully, even if altruism isn't your first instinct.

Main Navigation ::: ⇅ Top

Comments

INVITE REQUEST ∞

[thediadem]

If you don't know anyone in the game, or everyone you know has used up their invites for this round, you can request an invite here. An existing player (including the mods) might extend you an invite. Each TDM gives you a chance to request an invite.

We will respond to accepted TDM invite requests privately via PM. Please check your DW inbox. You will only get a response if you are invited. We'll process all outstanding requests to be accepted before reserves open, but will continue to look at additional submissions until applications close. If you don't hear from us by the time applications close, you're free to try again next TDM!

For the opening round, an existing player is any player with an initial mod-extended invite.

Interested parties who are already friendly with existing players should approach those players and go through the standard invitation process. However, if everyone you know is out of invites, you may use this section.

Before you request an invite for yourself:

• Participate on the TDM so other players can get to know you.
• You must have a way for us to judge if you'll be a good fit. This can be a musebox, meme/psl threads, or other games you were in. We'd like to see examples of how you RP and engage with other players.
• If you get an invite, you'll hear from us through PM before reserves open. Be sure to check your DW inbox.

Before you invite a TDM player:

• Reply to the Invites page for the player you want to invite.
• We will PM the player with an invitation if approved.
• Please do not reply to invitation requests directly yourself.
• By default, we will not disclose who invited whom, but you're welcome to let the person know on your own!

Request Form
<b>Player Name:</b> <b>Contact:</b> (A Plurk or Discord is a plus, but journal PM is acceptable. Our main emphasis will be on your visible RP history) <b>TDM Participation:</b> <a href="URLHERE">Link</a> (either a top-level or tag-in is fine) <b>RP History:</b> (Link to past threads, a musebox/open post, and/or previous communities you were a part of.)

[mississippis]

Player Name: M
Contact: mississippis

TDM Participation: Link
RP History: playing in Duplicity and Pixie Led, along with random PSLs and sometimes (though not recently) memes.

QUESTIONS ∞

[thediadem]

Permissible Actions
Actions you may take for this TDM without mod pre-approval:

• Ignore the car and hitch a ride with another character into Panorama. You'll still owe the same amount regardless since Yom Crook won't cover your medical bills if you don't accept their vehicle. You'll also need to double your loan if you want a vehicle later.
• Beat up or even kill a random NPC, especially during the power outage. Keep in mind three things: 1) all major actions should have narrative consequences; 2) NPCs in the Diadem are scrappier than average, likely armed, and potentially possess unique or powerful abilities themselves; 3) communicate and don't go overboard.
• Same goes for theft or mugging. Have fun, but keep it balanced and don't disrupt the spirit of the game.
• Raiders can be anywhere in the Fringes. Add them to the prompts if you want extra danger. Characters can also murder raiders.
• Force your character's vehicle to have ridiculous decals or color schemes they'll hate.
• Give your character a low-level job.
• Steal a phone. Just know the SIM card is separate so they'll either have to risk stealing that, too, or resign to paying for one.

If anything is unclear, please ask!
This includes if you're having trouble gauging appropriate consequences or the limits of certain actions. We're happy to guide you.

[shabby_magic]

How resistant are the windows in The Fringes Lockdown to magic? Can they be broken or changed by magic?

Charles Xavier | X-Men Movies

[thetruefocus]

ARRIVAL AND DRIVING

Charles wakes up in pain and without the steady arm of his right-hand man around him, both of which are troubling details that make it confusing before the masked person attempts to explain the situation. He might have been skeptical of the information given but it doesn't take much for their surface thoughts to reach him, and it is with cold acceptance that he asks if they have any wheelchairs on loan. It is sturdy but far less comfortable than the one Erik recently destroyed.

The only bright spot in this truly unfortunate situation is when there is a van option that is well-suited for him and his needs. It seems like a bit of a joke, the decoration on the sides fitting the young man he once was and no longer could be, but it works. And that's the first bit of good news. Once taught how to use it, Charles finds himself behind the wheel after years without and more than a little rusty because of it. He used to love driving his collection of cars on sunny days.

He is not the best driver now, as if all that experience went out the window. It is a learning curve and a van is both styled like the 60s but futuristic to him too so he stops and stalls more than once as he steers with his hands and accidentally hits the sudden brake rather than the gas. Perhaps someone is following him and doesn't expect the brake, bumping into him, surprised by someone stopping for no conceivable reason. Perhaps it's you who ends up on the receiving end of an unexpected bump as he hits the gas rather than the break, cringing at the sound of a crack of metal. Either way, he sticks his head out of the window, expression apologetic. "Terribly sorry about that it's ... been some quite time since I drove."

PANORAMA

Arriving in the city is actively a nightmare. The sudden incoming wave of chattering minds, emotional or sturdy, makes him grit his teeth and clench the wheel, continuing on very slowly as he starts and stops more than once. After setting up in a truly horrifyingly unimpressive motel, Charles goes to find these free samples as apparently he has access to no funds. He is a practical if frustrated man and waits his turn, although he might accidentally wheel over someone's toes or bump into them when the line goes forward but then stalls. "Bloody hell." He puts his head in his hands, massaging his temples with an open expression of pain crossing his bearded face.

"Oi, no cutting!" he tells someone if they try to muscle their way in, his tone sharp. He moves his fingers toward his temple but then thinks better of it and stews instead. "Hopefully they aren't going to run out," he says with a forced smile to whoever is in line with him. Eventually, he wheels his way out with a lap full of what he could scrounge, enough samples for him and at least one other person.

On the way back to the motel, which is frustratingly out of power, he runs into a pack of miscreants who have decided to skip the line and take what he's gainfully gathered. Charles doesn't seem afraid in the slightest as three men surround him, sighing as he eyes them. "Truly, my friends, I assure you, this is not what you want to do today. You can go now and forget about this." Yes, he tries to reason with them first. No need to go right to aggression when he holds the cards, although from the outside it appears they're picking on a helpless man.


THE FRINGES

Charles didn't know what to do when he first arrived so he started volunteering at the hospital, one of the rare places that seemed to be an easy option while he settled in. When news got around that there were surprising antibiotics showing up in the newest situation, he was already getting into his van to go look into it. Charles however is not someone who goes in alone. He will try to recruit people he sees. "The hospital could use some help, and I'm afraid it could be dangerous, and there is no obvious reward, but ... it would do good for people who need it. Please consider joining me."

Once he finds a partner, Charles makes a face when he makes it out of the car and water is already lapping at his tires. It could rust if this goes on too long. If he and his partner find themselves both trapped in the room together, Charles thinks quickly once it shuts down, glancing around them. "We must find the code." He sorts through the papers looking for an answer, and while focused at first on that, his mind starts to wander.

He blinks, confused, as unexpected but familiar words appear on the page. Names of people he used to know, but are lost now, and he flips back and forth between two single pages. Where were you, Charles? one says in bold letters, and he stops going through them abruptly, staring. He is entranced as a horrible pit drops into his stomach, and he freezes unhelpfully, as the water begins to rise past his ankles.

If his partner is separated from him, Charles will find the codes on his side, but realize there is nowhere to put them in. He will shout through the window as best as he can the details or use other means to end this.**

[**OOC note: he would use his telepathy to converse with the other person and help them, if that is something you would allow please give permission in the response.]

WILDCARD

Charles can be found helping at the hospital, miserably dealing with the cheap motels, trying to get around while wet from the storms, and struggling with his new wheelchair.

For other psychics or telepaths, they may experience his mind accidentally touching theirs, from either searching for people he knows or struggling with control after being surrounded by more people than usual. His pain is evident and perhaps it can be felt by someone unexpectedly touching his mind. He is not reading minds on purpose, this is solely open to characters who want to connect with him on the psychic plane.

Otherwise, hit me with whatever! Please feel free to message me on plurk @ theskyisnew or dm me with any questions.

panorama!

[pse]

[ Although recovering from her injuries upon entry have left her with an uncommon limp, Kimiko doesn't hesitate to cut in on three men attempting to intimidate a man in a wheelchair. Lips unhappily downturned, she shoves her way past one of the aggressors—neither the biggest nor the smallest, so mid-sized by all logic—and stands next to Charles's wheelchair. Rather like a guard dog at attention, her shoulders are puffed up and her body language is nearly feral.

She makes a dismissive little gesture at the one she figures is the ringleader. Run along now, in all but spoken words.

If Charles catches any thoughts, they'll be in Japanese. But her emotional state isn't buried deeply. She's concerned about him, and both unhappy about and unafraid of his would-be aggressors. ]

Jack Kline | Supernatural

[godjr]

ARRIVAL & DRIVING

Jack is very, very confused when he wakes up. He is used to being confused, that's his natural state of being most of the time, but this is new. He has been to another universe before, but it was just another version of his. He doesn't think that's the case here. He politely listens to everything he is told, nodding along, but brightens visibly when they say he can have a vehicle! "I like your mask," he tells Yom Crook politely.

"I have driven twice. It was very fun." He strikes up a conversation with anyone else who may be looking at the cars, unafraid of chatting with strangers. "I have seen movies with motorcycles, they look cool. I could probably drive one, right?" Jack can't see why not. He thinks immediately that Dean would be impressed with a motorcycle, he would think they're cool. There are other cars but none of them strike him as something the Winchesters would pick, and he is one of them, so in the end, he picks a blue motorcycle and a matching helmet.

Jack makes it only a little bit outside of the area before he crashes the motorcycle. It doesn't break but it does slide from underneath him more than once, and he then tries to be creative and make eights to get control, and then he falls off it some more. The strange thing is that every time he falls, and some of the time it looks like he should be severely injured, Jack just pops back up like nothing happened, adjusting the helmet on his head. It takes him five hours to drive the two-hour length to the city because he keeps crashing or driving in the wrong direction, but he's all smiles when he makes it there. Overall, a successful attempt, since he got there!

PANORAMA

Jack gets into the line at the supermarket because he sees the line and assumes it's for something important. "I wonder what is at the end of this. What do you think we're waiting for?" He says to anyone nearby. When he's not in line he is wandering the aisles, picking things up and looking at them with obvious confusion before putting them back. He may bump into someone while trying to take and put things back on the shelf, waving hello in a friendly way. "I don't think I know any of these brands. That's interesting, isn't it?" Otherwise he can be seen enjoying a sample outside the supermarket, looking delighted like it's the best thing he's ever tried.

He looks very seriously at the posters for jobs, tilting his head. "I wonder if there's an FBI here. I don't have my badge with me." He ends up offering to work both as a cash register and a graveyard shift, seemingly easy to convince and train.

When back at the motels, Jack looks surprised when a few suspicious-looking people corner him. Young and naive, he is an obvious mark for someone who knows what to look for. "Oh, I'm sorry. I can't give you any money, it's for me. But you could get a job at the supermarket with me." One of them has a bat and slaps it down into the other hand, but Jack looks at them without a shred of fear in his eyes.

THE FRINGES

Jack sees the message and curiously goes to investigate. 'Chaser' seems like a good title and he probably should be something better than a check-out guy someday. He doesn't think there's any hunting to be done here. After parking his motorcycle, he doesn't give a second glance to the water at his ankles and goes inside. "Oh, medicine! That's good." He sees it floating through the window.

When inside, Jack just looks around at first, wondering where the medicine is so he can bring it to someone, when he realizes someone appears to be trapped inside the room. He goes up to the window and knocks on it, slamming a fist with a heavy rattling, and looks confused that it didn't break. He used his actual strength and it didn't break? Worrisome. "I'm sorry, I can't break it open." The person's lips on the other side are moving and he can't hear them. "Hello?" he shouts louder, as if that will help.

If the other person manages to message or get through to him what needs to be done, Jack immediately goes to look for the pad to get them out. The shadows are a surprise, spreading everywhere. Jack is confused as they surround him and then jumps when out of nowhere something slices into his hand. The healing in response is fast, but he doesn't know how it happened. His eyes glow a vivid white-gold moments before he rips the panel off, and puts in the code.

"Hello!" he says with a wave when he returns to the area where the person is trapped. "I think there are monster shadows that are trying to eat us, we should probably leave." He sounds very, very calm saying that.


WILDCARD

Open to anything! Jack is friendly and will strike up a conversation with anyone. Jack has extraordinary supernatural power and it is possible that other people could pick up on it, especially anyone with the ability or sense for divinity/angelic leaning. Please feel free to message me on plurk @ theskyisnew or dm me with any questions.

driving...jack plz

[apapalypse]

[ This feels like a set-up, but at least the masked junkyard dealer doesn't pretend to give anything away for free. That would be way more suspicious. Joel takes the loan, though he doesn't have any intent on paying it back or staying around for long. A working car is a high value item and if he can drive away with one without risking his head, he'll take it. For now.

That doesn't mean he trusts it, though. He checks everything--under the hood, under the car, the bed. Not necessarily for quality--though he does want to make sure shit actually works--but for anything fishy someone who refuses to take off their mask might plant. Something that's set for this thing to blow up halfway down the highway and put you further into debt.

He's as content as it's possible for Joel Miller to be (without his adopted charge around, which that in and of itself is a big motivator to get the hell out of here and find her), except there's this. Guy. Just running his mouth like they're buddies.

Joel looks over from where he's checking the hood of the truck he's chosen. To the young man. Kid? Edging that border.

"I have seen movies with motorcycles, they look cool." ]

...Good for you.

[ "I could probably drive one, right?"

Is this a joke? He pointedly looks back to his work. ]

No.

𝐆ᴜꜱᴛᴀᴠᴇ ❧ ᴄʟᴀɪʀ ᴏʙꜱᴄᴜʀ: ᴇxᴘᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ 33

[stonethrow]

OPEN TO ALL ✴︎ EMP COMMENT FOR INFO & CONTACT ✴︎ BE WARY OF THREADS MARKED FOR SPOILERS
no spoilers for co:e33 will be mentioned in tags with non-canon mates

❧ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʜɪᴄʟᴇ

[stonethrow]

( one moment gustave was fighting a nevron in the caverns of stone wave cliffs, and the next—here he was, a migraine blossoming on the back of his head (did he get hit by the nevron, fall unconscious?), none of his fellow expeditioners nearby. disorienting is one way to put it, and his panic almost gives way to a stream of bile out of his empty stomach. some medicine they give him, and although he feels the electric tingles of anxiety under his skin, he's... better.

whatever 'better' can be defined as.

a solution is given to him, though: the idea that those he is looking for might very well be found at the end of the road, in panorama. it's not a certainty, but there's not much he can do, as yom crook (what an unpleasant name, he thinks) basically tosses him off to find his way, he's got other things to do.

after picking out a car that supplies his endless engineering curiosity with questions, he trails off to the side of the scrapyard, manual in hand, hesitantly handling the keys and passing the pages with a cinched brow. does the author of this manual accept feedback?

stepping to the side, he sits down (tumbling back a little, this cinder block was lower than he anticipated), checks his backpack to make sure he still has all his items with him—his journal, the lumina converter—before he starts poring over the pages of the manual. )

Automobiles — place the key onto the ignition...

( his words trail off as he glances up, realizing something that seems pretty important. this is a standard manual for every vehicle here. so— his arms droop between his knees, helplessly, speaking his grievances out to nobody in particular. )

Aren't these all different types of vehicles? How does one manual fit all?

Nadine Cross | The Stand

[nadine_he_loves]

Arrival/On the Road

Had Nadine lived a slightly more normal life, she'd have said that this was impossible. That she'd hit her head in an accident on a mountain road and all of this was some sort of coma-dream. She had been in some sort of accident, apparently. The memories of immediately prior to waking were a bit fuzzy.

A nasty gash on her head and a few badly bruised ribs certainly indicated an accident. She'd been suffering from dehydration, too, apparently.

But she hasn't lived a very normal life, and this seems about as possible as anything else that's happened to her. Sure, she was in some world that routinely pulled people into it via unknown forces. That's believable enough. Unknown forces have been controlling her life for the majority of it. Some stranger has patched her up and given her a twenty year old (by her estimation) station wagon on credit. A little harder to believe, but she doesn't have much choice but to accept it.

It seems to her there are two choices. Panic, focus on what she'd been doing before whatever had happened, what she was missing, how she'd be missed....or save all of that for later and just focus on the immediate while she figures out her situation.

The latter seems far more appealing in the moment. And practical. The practical thing is to focus on now, and getting to the promised city that lay a couple of hours away.

Which she'd be in the middle of doing, except her damn Volvo has blown a tire about forty five minutes into the journey. She's not sure what she ran over, but it had been impossible to see and punctured a neat little hole in the front left tire. She's on the side of the road, crouching by it to inspect it and wondering what the hell she's going to do about it. The few things she'd had with her aren't any help in fixing a tire, and she doesn't think she could change one herself even if the car has a spare.

"Damn it!"

Panorama - Apartment Blackouts

While Nadine is capable of living out of her car, it lacks certain things she considers necessities. Like a bathroom. Or a way to easily heat food. Or an actual bed. So she's shelled out some of her hard earner but meager savings to rent a room for a couple of nights. It's an awful room, like something out of a movie about the slums of New York or something, but it's an actual room. And God knows she's stayed in worse when she had to. And it has a television.

Besides, there's just something about being inside an actual building that gave the impression of better safety. It's likely an illusion, but it's a comforting one.

Or rather, it would be, if not for the sudden plunging into darkness that's just occurred. The hum of electronics that makes a steady background sound dies out, and there's something profoundly sad about the cease of the irritating buzz.

As quiet as it is inside, it doesn't seem to be the case outside. There's a bang against the door that makes her start, and she watches it for a moment before getting up. Before checking, she slips her handgun into the waist of her jeans, just in case. There's no second bang, like a heavy fist slamming against the wood, but she waits a moment longer before opening the door.

Nothing.

Frowning, she steps out, looking both ways for any sign of life.

Wildcard

[OOC: Feel free to throw a scenario at me! Also I will match tag style, brackets a-okay!]

on the road

[bananaclip]

When Dayna took the loan for her vehicle they'd supplied her with a rusted 4-door extended cab Chevy pick-up, a real workhorse, which pleased her. She doesn't think this vehicle will get very good gas mileage but that doesn't seem to matter here.

She's some way off when she sees the woman standing by her car on the side of the road, inspecting the tire. Dayna doesn't know if the woman knows how to change a tire, but she knows it's the kind of job that's easier with a helper. Besides, if the woman doesn't know how, Dayna can make quick work of it. She pulls in behind the other vehicle and cuts her engine.

She gets out, glancing down the road to make sure no one's right behind to hit her if she walks to the other vehicle, then approaches Nadine.

"You need some help?"

Renoir ⚔ Clair Obscur: Expedition 33

[betenoir]

Open Threads ⚔ Closed on Request ⚔ EMP & Contact Info ⚔ Marked for spoilers
Spoilers reserved for castmates and prior discussion

⚔ The Blocks

[betenoir]

[ Three strikes on the ground.

Three slow blows in succession echo around.

Three times the pattern repeats.

Until a lone figure emerges from the middle distance with his weight resting upon a wooden cane. Looking up at the heavens, comfortable walking in the openness of the night air rather than those crowded blocks in which everyone finds themselves. Those who announce themselves will draw his attention down to earth. Strangers are acknowledged with a guarded stare and cocking of the head. Those observant enough to notice will see this man has carried himself through dangerous situations.

But those familiar with this figure receive nothing but silence. They are observed with a cold and controlled stare: an ominous warning for those who remember their first encounter.

Or worse.

As for the one person more familiar with him than anyone? Well, that’s complicated.]

verso 🗡️ clair obscur: expedition 33

[reverso]

((ooc; this is a spoiler-free top level for the game! certain threads might contain spoilers depending on the direction they head (most likely the ones with potential castmates), but I will try to remain conscientious and mark them accordingly!))

—one

[With a name like Crook, Verso’s not entirely surprised he’s been tossed out on his own with both a strange new vehicle and a debt to pay. Much of this is baffling, perhaps enough so that he might question the validity of all around him, but what is there to do but to either gawk uselessly, or try to give this new (it doesn’t look terribly new, all things considered) motorcycle a spin? Best to focus on the problems far more prominent, the ones staring him in the face — the storm in his mind can wait for now.

Anyway. It goes about as well as one would assume.

That is:

A: [You run into him before he roars off, awkwardly sitting atop his bike as he quirks a brow at you and your newly-acquired vehicle. A flippant, but friendly enough:]

Don’t suppose you’d take a passenger in yours before I make a fool of myself on this thing?

[Maybe you’ve got like an actual car? A truck? Maybe you can give him a ride and haul his motorcycle along for the ride.]

B: [He’s off like a bat shot out of hell, for how fast he’s going on this blasted thing. The road blazes by him in a blur; he clenches his teeth, fists in a white-knuckled grip. And from his exclamation down this long stretch of road, one can assume this is more via a lack of familiarity his vehicle, rather than a purposeful choice:]

Putain!

[Oh, he’s fast approaching another vehicle. Maybe if he swerves fast enough he can avoid either a head-on collision or the most embarrassing fender bender known to man. One that’s sure to send him flying.]

Hey! Hey! Careful!

[The screech of tires. He swerves. Just how badly does this go?]

—two

[Badly enough that Verso looks like he’s Had A Day by the time he’s made it to Panorama, and the atmosphere of the city isn’t doing him any favors. It’s maze-like and overcrowded—he’s constantly bumping shoulders with people who don’t seem to pay him any mind—and he’s found himself somewhat hungry.

But he’s lucky enough to find the supermarket, and thus indulge himself in the free samples since he’s not much of anything else to his name to purchase a proper meal. So, the cheese line it is. He grabs more than one sample. The cabbage dumplings are next. Then a sip of the juice. And when he gets in line for the chocolate-covered alien eggs—]

…Oh. [Well. Actually.] Those don’t look too bad actually.

[Perhaps you grab the last of the samples, however, which has him frowning, and offering a little cube of cheese.]

How about a trade?

—three

[Honestly? He’s happy to just remain here in the dark until things sort themselves out. When the lights flicker and throws his room into pitch darkness, he murmurs-]

Wonderful!

[-but otherwise doesn’t move as he listens to the hubbub of others panicking beyond the thin walls around his room.

That is, until he hears screaming.

Only then does he sigh a bit heavily, rise to his feet, and grope his way through the dark to open his door and peer out down the hall… for what good it does.]

You all right? What’s going on out here?

[ARE YOU BEING ROBBED?? DO YOU NEED HELP? Or is there someone else in that bleak darkness that needs assistance?]

—wildcard

[whatever your heart fancies!]

good with spoilers up to the mansion scene in act 2! also 1a, forgot

[pse]

[ Kimiko's vehicle is a large, black SUV with rust in the wheel well, a clear dent in the passenger door, and several cracks in the rear windshield. But it gets her from point A to point B while having the good sense to not resemble a bumblebee, so she certainly isn't going to complain. She rolls her window all the way down to give Verso her undivided attention, and then nods.

She presses the button to open the back hatch. Nothing happens. She presses it again. Nothing happens. After the third time, she gives up and climbs out of the vehicle. A small cloud of dust kicks up when her boots land on the ground and Verso will see for the first time how much the SUV dwarfs her, Maelle-sized as she is. With a wave of her hand toward the passenger seat, she gestures to his bike.

How good is Verso at charades, incidentally? ]

Rogue | XMCU

[mississippis]

Arrival and Introduction

One second she's being half dragged, half carried through the halls of what had once been the Institute, security lights flickering and strobing and leaving her disoriented. But as she stumbles, legs still weak from too long on an experimentation slab, falling face first against the metal grates below, things shift and everything goes dark.

The Sentinels had been right behind them, sharp spikes coming up through the floor, and she's certain this must be what death is: a jolt, a wail, and sudden darkness.

The next thing she knows, her eyes fly open and she's on a cot that's, amazingly, a million times more comfortable than what she's used to in the Lab. Though that's not saying much. She's used to nothing more than the floor and a blanket that's more holes than fabric. There's something -- someone? -- looking down at her and she thinks for a second that they must have been captured, that Bobby and Erik must be in a similar situation, all because they'd tried to rescue her.

Still, despite being so mind-numbingly used to being poked and prodded and studied, the unfamiliarity of the mask makes her shriek, and she's kicking back at the blankets, trying to get away from it.

The explanation that follows actually helps more than it should. It doesn't really clear things up for her, but the overarching theme, the one that matters most, is that she's not the Lab anymore. Whatever this place is, she's free to leave it, free to take a vehicle, on the hook for a loan maybe, but even that seems inconsequential compared to where she'd come from.

Rogue gets on the road as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger, certain that if she does, all this will somehow fade and she'll wake up back in her cell.

The drive is also more relaxing than it should be. It's been years since she's been behind the wheel of anything. Years since she's been outside. And the motorcycle she's been given provides plenty of that. She doesn't bother with the helmet, doesn't think she can handle the idea of being enclosed that way, and ends up speeding for most of the trip.

About an hour and a half in, she begins to hear a faint rattle, then a sputter, and her speed decreases. This is the catch, she thinks, because, of course, there had to be one. She'd known it had to be built in somewhere.

Pulling over to the side of the road, she climbs off the bike, messing with the mitten-like gloves that are part of her lab uniform so she can at least try to get a sense of what's gone wrong. Without tools, though, she finds herself groaning in frustration and kicking the back wheel of the bike before long.

So far, no one's passed by, but as she gears up for a second kick, she hears the familiar rumble of an engine that seems to be getting closer. As much as she doesn't want to draw unwanted attention to herself, it's not like she has a choice, so by the time the vehicle is within eyesight, she's waving it down.

Power Outage

A lot like the cot she'd woken up on, the motel almost seems lush compared to the lab. Even the power outage doesn't bother her much, even if it means that there's not much to do but sit and brood.

Rogue had gotten used to the dim, eerie glow of her cell, to having nothing but occasional visits to a slab to break up the monotony. Having to try to keep her mind steady when there's nothing to cling to. But she's not used to being in a place where she can interact with people, where, when she hears screaming, she can actually go to it, instead of futilely banging her fists on her plexiglass enclosure or huddling up in a ball while trying to drown it out.

So when she hears shrieking from what sounds like a few rooms down, she grabs the first thing she can get her hands on -- a lamp that's otherwise useless without power -- and races out of her room, dimly aware that she's ready to take a swing at the first thing she sees no matter who or what it is.

Set Free

If she has to pay back the loan for the bike, she might as well use the thing now that she's gotten it to start again.

She's gotten soaked on the drive over and realizes the bike might not have been the smartest choice, but what's done is done. Unfortunately, the building she's stopped in front of doesn't look like it's going to provide a whole lot of shelter, not when she approaches and realizes that the water comes up to her knees.

She'd be more bothered by each step splashing her with more water if the rain hadn't been coming down so hard, but maybe, hopefully, she can get inside and get to high ground. Even pulling herself up onto a desk for a little bit and trying to dry out her shoes would be a welcome relief.

With nothing but the emergency lights from the roadblocks to illuminate things for her, she has to get close to the windows to see inside. There are crates, bobbing around in the water, but, more alarmingly, is that someone seems to be trapped inside.

She raps her knuckles against the window, trying to get their attention, before moving to find a place to try to pull the window open.

Wildcard

[ Wildcards are more than welcome! If you'd like to plot something else out, feel free to contact me on Plurk (mississippis). ]

Arrival! Yay Rogue!

[thetruefocus]

[ It's been many years since the last time Charles drove and it has not come back to him right away, it is not in fact like riding a bike, as much as he expected it to be. Still, it seems like a straight enough shot to the city in the distance, and he is doing his best to learn the way to use the pedals and hand grip. For now, there are almost no minds on the road, so he is not yet attacked by the noise of the city.

He does see someone pulled to the side of the road and frowns, testing out the brakes of his colorful van and coming to a very slow crawl until he's right beside her. It will be decades before this Charles Xavier will meet Rogue as a young woman, but perhaps there is enough of him in his face to seem familiar when he rolls down the window and looks out of it. ]

Hello! I'm afraid I am not much help as a mechanic, but there's room in the van if you need a ride.

[ Dark hair is in a wave to his chin, a straggly beard on his face, but his eyes are clear as he curiously looks at the first person he's seen since he left the automobile area. He doesn't snoop of course, his mind easily blocked away from a singular person, and he tries to smile reassuringly toward her. ]

I can't say I'm a fantastic driver so you might have to bear with me.

Jinx | Arcane | (will match style)

[alwaysme]

((Contact. Jinx's canon point is her last appearance in the s2 finale. A note that Jinx does NOT have her signature braids. It should be minor but I do have an opt-out post for her and I will cw anything that might dip into Bad.))

A. The Scrapyard - Arrival

[It's not the first time Jinx has heard voices.

Heck, it's not even the first time Jinx has had someone else in her head--no, that was a more recent event. Before this. Not that she remembers much.

Just another one to add to the growing pile.

She'd used to it.

Just like she's used to fighting for her life, though this time maybe it was less of a fight. She just didn't expect to wake up on another medical table, screaming, expecting a different doctor, expecting more Shimmer, expecting--

No. Silco wouldn't be here.

She took the pills offered to her and complemented Yom Crook on their car and instead finds herself sidled with--what? What's she supposed to do with this? Unlike Yom Crook and their matching with their car, Jinx in all her brightly covered paints stands out. Stands out in the entire Scrapyard, really. ] They wanted to give me this hunk of junk? No. It's fine.

[She turns away. Yom Crook has already long since left her vicinity.] I'll fix her up, I've dealt with worse. Did the doctor do anything to me? [She turns again, mumbling, then focuses on the nearest person and their vehicle and grins.] Oh, I see, you got first choice, huh? [It's hard to tell if she's serious.]


B. Panorama - Light Theft

She's quick. Quicker than most. Blink and you might miss it. Stare too hard and you might see the heat illusion of pink stretch and streak after her as though catching up with her body. She's used to growing up on the streets as a child, fending for what she might need. Less when she was older. More out of habit, more because she wanted it and no one could possibly question her without questioning Silco backing her.

If she stole it, they should have been better at protecting their wares, after all. Not very good at that, are they?

So perhaps you noticed her swipe from the stand, just two strange-looking vegetables that aren't out for sampling that she had her eye on when she first passed through here. You may spot her, but she spots you, putting a coy middle finger to her lips. It looks brass, unlike the rest of her fleshy fingers.

With her right hand she taps the small bag she hid the stolen food away and gestures at you before ducking down an alleyway.

You can either rat her out or follow and partake in her meal.


C. The Fringes - Sealed In (cw: past trauma, mental health)

[Look.

She was getting stir-crazy. And she wanted some parts. And she didn't want to take a job like sales clerk or whatever they kept posting for. And her room hasn't had power in days. And she's taken apart the TV and put it back together more times than she can count (they won't notice anything's wrong. probably.).

Point is: she's let herself become a shut-in when really she needs to get out there and explore and find a way to get money and get situated and some dumb text message is just an excuse.

So some meds? Easy. Cha-ching. Doesn't matter the world, drugs make the world go round. She knows that lesson very, very well.

And then the lock buzzed. And then there was water.

She's been almost drowned enough times, all by choice, that the rising water at first doesn't bother her. But there's something more at work here and as she says quietly no, no, no to a voice there's other faces bobbing in the water and those are new. Those don't belong to her.

But there's a different face that doesn't vanish under the water, beyond the glass. Your face on the other side.] HEY! Hey, can you help a girl out?!

I had to. Light theft.

[godjr]

Jack is mostly walking around the supermarket because he finds it interesting, and he doesn't recognize everything there. He waited in the line for a sample which was interesting, but then he thought he would look at everything else. There was a sign for a job opening and he's never had a real job, so it seemed like a good idea. For now though he's getting familiar with the store, and his eyes wander over the shelves. His gaze catches when he sees the woman swiping food from the stand.

He knows what stealing it, obviously, and generally it's wrong, but sometimes it's right, as his family has explained to him before. There are usually reasons they are allowed to ignore the rules, so maybe she has the same situation. He nods when she asks him not to say anything, he thinks that's why she put her finger to her lips, and he raises his eyebrows when she gestures him forward.

Jack follows her toward the alleyway, lifting a hand in greeting. "Hello!" He is about as non-threatening as a person can get in the way he holds himself. "I don't think you were supposed to take that."

𝓦𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝓜𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅 ⬡ 𝐌𝐂𝐔

[carmesi]

OPEN TO ALL ✴︎ EMP COMMENT FOR INFO & CONTACT
wanda's canon point is post-civil war, being imprisoned in the raft

⬡ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄

[carmesi]

( there are many questions and considerations that wanda could pose to yom crook—about her arrival, this place, the scorched marks on her arms, the lingering feeling of a burnt ache on her neck. and yet she asks nothing, barely says a word, and just accepts the offer of taking a vehicle and incurring a loan with a deadpan thanks before letting him get back to his business.

the raft is meant to be, as far as she understands it, an impenetrable prison, and she had already forsaken all hope of an escape or some kind of intervention in her stead. and yet, here she is, nursing injuries that she imagines are related to an attempted dissidence on her behalf gone awry; her memories are a little spotty, and perhaps that should be worrisome, except she can't help but think that—joining the avengers was entirely disappointing, and so resentfulness lingers within her. she feels used, and while she doesn't regret supporting steve... it stings that it all had resulted in confinement, yet again.

it is with unrestrained certainty that wanda recognizes her powers as the problem, a curse that she must keep hidden from others. this place, as she understands it, is a new world: a place for new beginnings.

she has nothing on her person but the blue uniform of the prison, and shoes with shoddy soles that won't last her more than a few days.

with literally nothing to lose, she finds herself working an older model bike; these types of vehicles she has tried before, under tutelage back at the compound, but she's a little rusty. the engine comes to life, the light blinks on with a switch, and wanda revs the engine—

entirely too hard.

thankfully (thankfully!) she only just about turns the brakes with a loud screeching of the tires, nearly slamming onto another moving vehicle. she swallows hard, making eye contact with another 'fluxdrift', as yom crook called the lot of them. )

— sorry.

( she tries to exude confidence in her ability to drive this thing, but she really looks like she's just escaped either a place she had been either institutionalized at or detained. )

You were in the way.

Connor | Detroit: Become Human

[someonetostay]

Arrival

In addition to being programmed with such capabilities, Connor has in fact driven before. Once. So it’s not at all ominous as he slips behind the wheel of his — new to him — Oldsmobile. And if it’s a little beat up, even more-so than some of the other cars on offer: well, someone back home might have said that was charming.

He drives slow. Perhaps excruciatingly slow. What’s the speed limit? He’s scanning for signs: something, anything, when he accidentally hits another car. Not too hard, from how fast he was driving, but Connor still tries to roll the window down. It takes a few moments, getting stuck at a most inopportune time, before he can finally see outside.

“Are you hurt?”

Free Samples

If Connor were human, the free samples might appear appetizing. Some part of him almost wants to try them: just to see, and because he can. They’re free. No one here would stop him.

It’s tempting — but no, what he needs is thirium. And a job, apparently: what sort of work might an android find here? Will he be loathed like back home? Will it matter?

He turns to the person behind him and asks: “Have you seen any thirium here” — then, remembering the slang term — “or perhaps blue blood?”

Power Outage

The power outage is, if nothing else, unsettling. Instead of sitting on his musty motel bed — there’s no reason for him to power down at present; no necessary updates for him to install — Connor heads outside. Knocking on the door nearest his, he waits for the occupant to open up.

In his hands are a few scrawny dandelions, dirt still clinging to their stems. The yellow color is pleasant, isn’t it? Surely Connor’s neighbor at the motel will be pleased by such an offering.

Wildcard

(Feel free to go wild! My Plurk is Giangio if you might want to discuss anything. I am up for absolute shenanigans. Connor is an android! Brackets style is also totally welcome; I will match.)

Free Samples

[godjr]

Jack is curious about the samples and he rarely got to go to the store back home, outside of the occasional chore from Dean, but he's always found them interesting. The one he knew didn't have samples like that. He is waiting patiently, curiously looking around the place. He doesn't feel any fear being here, more confusion than anything else. It's a more pleasant new universe than what he's experienced before.

He looks up from the box he was reading when the other man speaks and his eyebrows furrow. "Thirium? Thirium." He says it a second time to make sure that he has it right so he can search his mind for it. "No, but I am new here." Maybe they have it.

"I've never heard of blue blood before. Unless you mean the term when someone is from nobility. Is that what you mean?"

thomas lawrence | conclave

[servusfidelis]

(ooc: prose or brackets are fine, idk if/when i'll app we're just feelin it out. opt out is here if needed <3 )

01. arrival;

[Theoretically, Lawrence can drive. He just hasn't in a very good while. His world at the Vatican has grown smaller the longer he's kept his post, and his responsibilities have kept him largely tied to his desk, or at least to Rome-- so, he hasn't actually owned a car in years. And it shows. He's totally grandpa-driving this beat-up station wagon right now, holding people up behind him and looking visibly anxious when others honk and tailgate him before completely passing Lawrence entirely.

But he's fine! He's totally fine. He's gonna make it. Disregard his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, Lawrence is a-ok.

After an hour of this, white smoke starts to billow from under the hood. (Ha-ha, he thinks, ruefully; what a fantastic joke He is making of me.) The man pulls over right away, and moments later, there is an old Catholic priest with rolled-up cassock sleeves trying his damnedest to figure out whether his car's just overheating or whether he's in the explosion zone right now.

And, honestly, part of him is praying for the latter, just a little. Why, God, do things always happen to him? Lawrence removes his zuchetto, crushing the red cap in his fist, and stares bleakly out at the highway, hoping some kind soul will take notice.]

02. samples;

[They keep cutting Peepaw off in the cheese line. :(

Eventually, Lawrence gives up-- he's too polite to shove his way through, even if he'd really like a piece of cool alien cheese-- and meanders towards another vendor offering samples. These, however, are the chocolate covered alien eggs. He is old, and set in his ways and his palate, but he is still unfailingly polite and cannot turn down the kind offer when he gets an alien egg shoved into his hands.

Objectively, it's pretty good. Subjectively, the savory-sweet crunch, coupled with how stressful his last day-- week-- several months have all been? He cannot eat this. His tastebuds reject it. His weak stomach is already starting to hurt. And yet, he finishes it with a (somewhat pained) smile.]

Lovely. That is-- [no, please, don't offer him another! Panic flashes in his eyes, briefly, before he can pull his stolid mask back on,] --really, wonderful to try.

[Please God someone else eat this for him. He turns politely to the nearest warm body and passes them the second chocolate alien egg.] Would you like one? They're quite good. [HELP.]

03. power outage;

A - guess i'll die.jpg
[Lawrence is in the dark. Okay. He can deal. At least until they figure this out-- which, he prays, will be sooner rather than later. Thank the Lord he made it here with a rosary in his pocket. The familiar prayers are a beacon of calm amidst all this uncertainty, so he takes a seat on the end of his ratty motel bed and pulls the rosary out of his pocket. He takes a deep breath, running his fingers over the well-worn beads.

From the other side of the thin wall, you may be able to hear the drone of the Hail Mary, over and over again.]

B - senior calls for aid
[He's gotten through an entire rosary and the power is still not back on, so. Guess Lawrence has to go deal with that now!!!!!!

He may have spent a lot of time in the bubble of the Vatican, but he certainly wasn't born yesterday. He's new, and confused, and although he's not especially frail, he's not a young man anymore: an able-bodied attacker his size would almost certainly get the better of him. If he doesn't get out of here or find someone to travel with, he will get mugged. His aim is to get out of the motel entirely, so with light footsteps, he makes his way through the halls, attempting to move as quietly and discreetly as possible.

Unless he bumps into someone first.] Oh! I beg your pardon. [Hello, kind and hopefully combat-ready stranger: a Catholic cardinal is backing away sheepishly and muttering his apologies. The man is old, perhaps pushing 70, and he looks visibly exhausted and just a bit rattled. It's been a long day!] Have you heard whether the power will be returning anytime soon?

wildcard;
[anything works, i am flying by the seat of my pants here lol. you can also reach me at smithsyndicate or on my emp comment if you wanna plot anything specific!]

3b

[potentialman]

[ Megumi doesn't have enough working knowledge of the Catholic church that he'd stake his life on it, but he's ninety percent sure that's how cardinals dress. Someone high up on that scale, anyway, and...honestly, if being a tired-looking elderly man wasn't already a huge blinking target on this guy's chest, being a priest just seems like another nail in the figurative coffin.

He may not be worried about the eventual fate of his own soul, but he's pretty sure if he lets a literal priest get shanked in this dank hellhole, his sister would never forgive him. ]

Nothing concrete. But I've gotten the impression this happens fairly often.

[ Hello, sir. A lanky Japanese fifteen-year-old probably doesn't register too highly on the threat meter of anyone who isn't already operating on anime logic, but appearances can be deceiving? ]

emet-selch / ffxiv

[unsunder]

🌙 OOC NOTE

There will be spoilers through the end of Endwalker in these prompts/threads. If you’re still working your way through the game, best to avoid! Absolutely no worries there and I’ll catch you later. ❤️

Also, if you think it would be relevant for a first meeting/TDM scenario, I have a permissions post here regarding Emet-Selch’s ability to see souls. Ty!

I. 🌙 TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES (ARRIVAL)

[ This is, in fact, not how he wanted to be woken up. If he had a bit more say in the matter, he would very much like to not be woken up at all, but as ever, the universe has a twisted sense of humor, so here he is. Denied the chance to rest yet again.

Emet-Selch is hard-pressed to find a way in which things could be worse, but it seems the universe is out to get him yet again. He is pretty firm with this Yom Crook character (and why would he be at all inclined to trust someone with “crook” in their name, anyway?) that he will not be needing a vehicle, thank you very much. As if to demonstrate his utter lack of need to rely on such things, a wave of shadow swims up around his form, swallowing him whole.

And then it flickers, like a light about to go out. Once, twice, three times in quick succession, and Emet-Selch is unceremoniously spat back out, precisely three feet to the left of where he started, looking absolutely livid.

He whips around, jabbing a finger at Yom Crook and anyone else who happens to be nearby to catch the show. ]

Not a word. Not. A. Word.

[ Looks like he’ll be needing that car after all. ]

II. 🌙 HOTEL, MOTEL, HOLIDAY INN (POWER OUTAGE)

[ An Ascian is used to the dark, so when the power goes out without warning, Emet-Selch is struck with both a feeling of familiarity, and an exhausted sort of resignation. Given the last few days he’s had, this might as well happen, you know?

He sits there in the dark for who knows how long, contemplating the merits of either going for a walk or taking a nap or some secret third option he’s yet to consider, when some just up and breaks into his room.

This is not the day, and he is not the man to trifle with.

What follows is an extremely loud, but startlingly brief bout of commotion. Things are thrown, furniture is broken, and there’s a fair bit of yelling – mostly coming from the would-be thief. All of it culminates in a blindingly bright flash of purple light that expels the thief from the motel room, sending them slamming into the wall in the hall outside, and skittering away.

A moment later, Emet-Selch pokes his head out of the room to peer at their retreating form. Are there more? There might be.

No doubt he’s drawn some attention with all that. ]

What?

[ Come to see what the commotion was? Or perhaps you’re dealing with a problem yourself. He can help. Probably. With enough motivation. ]

III. 🌙 WILDCARD

[ Hit me with whatever! If you want to plot something, shoot me a DM. ]

techincal difficulties

[widows_kiss]

Performance issues?

[ There's a redhead straddling a motorcycle not far away, casually looking entirely too comfortable despite having just been yanked from certain death. Or out of a soulstone. She's not actually certain. Either way, she's breathing when she didn't expect to be, even if she's been tossed into some weird Mad Max alternate universe. She wonders if Rhodey had a theory about this outcome.

Her lips twitch in the efforts of holding back a smirk - efforts that utterly fail as she watches his outrage when his... shadow-thingy doesn't seem to work the way he intends. ]

Don't worry, I'm told it happens to a lot of people.

scott summers ── x-men cinematic universe

[opticular]

The Pavilion

[ Scott has been in this world for a few days now. While the injury on his left side hasn't healed completely, because he wasn't blessed with a mutation that allows for that to happen, it doesn't seem to bother him. Sure, he'll look like he's wincing whenever he's moving but a lot of his expressions are hidden beneath his ruby glasses. Good thing, too, because he'd like to be as lowkey as possible.

Of course, he opted for a sweet ride instead of being in debt for medical bills. It's the best one he can find and it has served him well ever since his arrival. Since he only has his X-Men uniform on his back upon arriving to this place a couple of days ago, which was tattered by the impact of his fall, he was able to put together a tank top with holes in it and a gray hoodie from a junkyard he happened to pass by. Beggars can't be choosers. He's been trained to experience worse things.

Which brings him to actually try and parse out what this place is even about. He has tried asking locals- fellow fluxdrifts, and so far, he can only piece together some stuff. Keeping up with the Forum has been helpful but he could only gather so much. So he's here now trying samples in a supermarket and pocketing a flier advertising for a cash register or a graveyard shift in the warehouse positions.

One might also bump into him, to which he'd politely say - ]

Sorry about that. Just trying to get some stuff.

The Blocks

[ Of course, the power went out. Great. As if things can't get any worse in this place. To be fair, Scott has already expected this, and yet, it still bums him out.

So while dressed in his tank top filled with holes trying to sew his tattered uniform, he sits in the dark for a bit while he tries to stop himself from sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose over and over again.

At one point, he'll knock on other people's doors to try and negotiate sharing a room, but for the most part, Scott will don his gray hoodie and go out to find somewhere else to stay. ]

OOC

[ Feel free to tag-in with a wildcard and I'll roll with it! I can also match style. If you have any other ideas or you'd wanna plot, hit me up at justinify! ]

blocks. :3

[carcajous]

[ Y'know, about ten, fifteen years back, he'd recognize exactly who was behind his door before he opened it. He'd smell it. It's been a long damn time, though. A really long time. The bodies have stacked so high, he'd say he lost track, except he hasn't. He knows the count, every single one of them.

And the big fuckin' irony is, Scott was the first. First name struck out on his list. Bet the guy would love that, he used to think.

Point is, Logan hasn't got any idea who it is knocking, couldn't care less, most definitely isn't about to get up and open it. He's good here, alone in the dark. He can see well enough. Sure as hell doesn't need anybody making trouble in a room he's paid for. He just wants to burn a cigar and catch his signature two hours of sleep. Maybe three, if he's had a real good night.

When the knock comes a second time, he frowns through the cloud of smoke. Seriously? All the doors along this block, they gotta pick his?

Anyway, it may or may not also be around the time Scott hears a distinctly familiar: ] Fuck off.

megumi fushiguro | jujutsu kaisen

[potentialman]

arrival;
[ Megumi is familiar with cars, at least-and he's gotten the impression that this puts him ahead of where some people are starting from. He's never given thought to driving himself, though; even if Jujutsu High didn't have the assistant managers around to chauffeur, it's just not a thing most people bother with in Tokyo.

So the look he's giving Yom Crook is extremely dubious. ]

So you habitually extend predatory loans to underage, unlicensed drivers...and this is completely legal?

[ He doesn't actually care much if whatever he winds up doing is legal or not; he follows his conscience and whatever anyone thinks of that isn't his problem. But given that he's arriving from the conservative double-whammy of Japan in general and jujutsu society in particular, the apparent laxity here is...mind-boggling, honestly.

Yom Crook eventually scuttles off to talk to an arrival who looks a bit more receptive to the pitch, because Megumi is still standing here, unconvinced and deep in thought. There are advantages to driving that he can't really deny, but there are just as many headaches, and he's really not loving the idea of winding up stranded on the roadside with only a poorly-written user's manual to try to fix whatever breaks.

It's even odds whether he caves in first or hitches a ride. ]


panorama: blackout;
[ He's barely checked in and is still only halfway down the hall to his motel room when the lights flicker and die, and the hallway plunges into darkness. ]

Ugh.

[ No natural light, no emergency lighting, and now no way to actually read the numbers on the doors and find the one he's looking for. Megumi reaches up and traces a hand over the numbers on the closest door—thankfully, they're raised and not merely written. Still a few more down, probably, so he keeps one hand trailing along the wall and starts counting every time he hits a door frame.

This is fine. He's got this.

Sadly, the darkness also leaves him no way to see that somebody carelessly dropped--something?--in the hall and never picked it up, and when his foot hits the debris, he trips, falls forward, and abruptly breaks his fall by banging his head on the nearest door (possibly yours?). ]

Dammit.


the fringes;
[ The building could pass for any of the myriad places Megumi's been on curse investigations and exorcisms, aside from the flooding (which narrows it down to a smaller handful of them). He glances at his phone--no bars--and shoves it back in his pocket.

Just like old times, indeed.

Which means he's also just waiting for things to go dramatically, horribly wrong, because that's always part of how it goes too, isn't it?

Of course, if this really were old times... His gaze drifts to whoever he's arrived with. Backup is good, but it just drives home how far from home he actually is, to be standing here with a stranger who happened to be going in the same direction, rather than one of the people it should be.

Getting caught up in his own thoughts isn't going to get this done any faster. ]

You ready?


wildcard?
( Or whatever else! I'll match format if you'd rather prose, PM or atkascha if you need anything. )

Arrival

[alwaysme]

I don't think legality is something they particularly are worried about, chum. [She overheard him talking earlier while she was debating if there was anything she could nab for her station wagon without making herself a Bigger Problem financially later (no).

She thinks she could find a way to wriggle herself out of her debt. Just needs to find herself a bigger fish and prove her value to them.

But she... doesn't particularly want to go that route right now unless she's in a bind.

She scouts his ride. Maybe...] 'Unlicensed' you said. Licensing sounds like a scam, anyway. Do you know how to drive?

lucina | fire emblem: awakening

[tolight]

→ FLUXDRIFT

[ Look. She's offered a car and it seems unwise to leave it, considering the state of her and the distance to the next city ( there's a back and forth as she tries to wrap her mind around what a drive is, but that's neither here or there ). Yom Crook makes the terms clear, and they seem reasonable enough. She's given basic instructions. She's ridden horses before. It should be fine, right?

Wrong.

Her arm is in a sling and there's a bandage over her cheek when she's pulled up by the side of the whatever counts as a road. It's pure chance she didn't end up in the middle of it, let's be honest. Lucina's standing at the side of a car ( which... may or may not end up being the middle of the road. Please don't run her over. Or do? ), eyebrows knit together and her lips turned into a frown as she continues her staring contest with a flat tire. Eventually, she turns her head towards the vague shapes of tall buildings in the distance — just towards that, she had been told — trying to gauge how long that'd take.

Honestly, maybe she just walks. ]

→ PANORAMA

[ She's been to markets, but never a grocery store. The options — or the illusion of options, considering most of the aisles are empty — are a little overwhelming. Wide eyes keep flitting between the two shelves until she turns herself all the way back around, a hand on her sword at the side out of habit more than anything else.

But by the time she runs into someone else, she's actually hovering over one of the sample tables. In her hand is a little paper cup, and in the paper cup is something round and chocolatey. Inside that though... is that even edible?

She looks up. ] Oh. Would you like to try some? It looked rather unfamiliar, but the taste is rather sweet. I didn't expect that. [ ... She's not talking about the chocolate, is she? Either way, she's offering an alien egg of your own to try. ]

→ FRINGES (QUAD 3)

[ The last few moments go something like this: she's drawn to the windows of the store like a moth to a flame, face pressed close to the glass in an attempt to peer inside. Possibly startles whoever has managed to get stuck there. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before she's gotten the gist of what's going on, and she's rushing towards the back of the building. Unfortunately — she's gone for a while.

( The shadows and the unsettling weight of eyes on the back of her head are one thing. So is the open gash on her palm, a faint ache on her elbow. The rest of it ... less so. She bites the inside of her cheek hard, the taste of blood filling her mouth in an attempt to focus. It's just enough to punch the last few codes in. )

When she rushes to the front — after she needs to rub the last of the symbols from the corners of her vision — the water is well on its way to being sucked in. ] What—

[ It takes her a second before she's hauling herself towards the open door of the store, wading past rushing waters, the giant sinkhole in the sky be damned. Maybe she hasn't noticed that you've already gotten out. Maybe you're still stuck there. It doesn't matter; she's not going to leave alone. ]

→ WILDCARD

[ Obligatory wildcard option — but I love writing personalized starters, so please let me write one for you! Just give me a prompt or an idea of what they could be doing, and I'm more than happy to start us off. If you want to discuss anything in depth, my PMs are open!! ]

wildcard

[frostfist]

[ After a bit of back-and-forth with the guy in charge and a careful onceover of the various vehicles housed in the log, Wriothesley thinks he's got his choice in transporation narrowed down. A smaller size means better maneuverability and less fuel consumption, and a more streamlined design should mean easier acceleration. For someone who usually hoofs it on his own, a motorcycle seems like the ideal choice.

Right?

Wrong. Wherever Lucina might be in the Scrapyard, checking out her options or simply getting a feel for things, there's the unpleasant scent of exhaust filling the air and the unholy screech of tires against ground, along with a rather frantic voice. ]

Watch out—

[ He goes zipping past, only to collide with a nearby wall. Turns out the brakes don't work on this one. At least he hadn't been going too fast. ]

Arthur Hastings | We Happy Few

[smilefornow]

On The Road

At first, Arthur thought he'd somehow ended up on the mainland. Where else could he be? He's not in Wellington, that's for sure. And he had been nearly at the bridge when he'd...er...been caught in that entirely accidental and wholly unavoidable explosion in the mines. Maybe he'd blasted himself right into the water and washed up on the far shore.

That is not, of course, the case. No, he has found himself over the rainbow, down the rabbit hole, and other applicable literary references. Like he'd somehow fallen through one of Dr. Faraday's portals. Hell, maybe that's exactly what happened! She made them with high concentrations of motilene, and he'd ignited a whole lot of motilene...er, well, the entirely accidental explosion had. Not him.

Either way, here he is, hands all slathered up with burn cream and bandaged, staring at the manual he's awkwardly holding. He has barely left The Scrapyard. He finds himself in possession of a micro bus in rather unfortunate condition. It's paint is faded and darkened in some spots, there's a few superficial dents on either side, and the driver's door makes an unpleasant screeching noise when opened. All of those things are, he surmises, easily fixable with time and tools and sovereigns. Or whatever they use for money here.

The more pressing issue is he is expected to drive it. He does not know how to drive. He drove a Jubilator, one. And somehow, despite it only having two controls and being on a track, he had managed to crash it. The controls for the little bus look very, very complicated in comparison. He looks from the open manual in his hands to the bus, frowning. Just getting it this far had been nearly a disaster. At least one of those dents may not have been there when Arthur first took the keys...

"Bloody hell, I'm going to kill someone!"

Panorama - Supermarket Samples

So far, Arthur has seen quite a few benefits to this place. Much fewer people trying to kill him, for one. Less deadly fogs. No deranged tyrannical government that may or may not actually exist. And, best of all, food! What he, at least, considers an abundance of it.

Just the fact that food can run out and then be replaced at all is rather amazing. At least to a man who's been surviving on random weeds and flower bulbs and thirty year old war rations.

There's enough food here that they just give out bits of it! Completely free! To anyone who wanted some! It's absolute madness. But madness Arthur highly approves of. Only...oh. Dear. The queue is a mess. It's barely a queue, it's just people grouped around and jostling! It seems that's the way things are done, but the idea of joining in the chaos makes him recoil a little inside. It's just not proper!

Well...when in Rome. He does his best, but simply ends up behind the small crowd muttering 'er...excuse me...' and 'pardon....' while politely raising his hand to try and catch someone's attention.

Fuckity duck, but he wants some of those samples....

Wild Card

[OOC: Throw a scenario at me, I'm down for anything! Will match tagging style, brackets welcome!]

Samples

[alwaysme]

She shoulders up besides him like they're friends.

(He's further ahead in the line/crowd than she would have managed.)

But boy, he needs her help, and it's a win-win for both of them.

"You gotta shout, man." She taps a fist to her belly and mimics drawing in a deep breath. "Come on, let it out." In example, she hoots and hollers, flailing her hand more than his polite wave, and shouts, "Over here, we've been waiting for hours, what kinda service is this!"

It does get them attention.

Sorry, Arthur, it gets them attention.

They'll get their samples, sure, but it might not be with the best reception.

lune | clair obscur: expedition 33

[chromas]

threads open to all ♢ spoiler-free for expedition 33 unless with canonmates or discussed ♢ emp comment for further plotting

arrival — flat tire

[chromas]

ARRIVAL — flat tire

[ despite knowing nothing about the concept of driving a car, it had only taken a bit of focused meditative study for lune to comprehend the mechanics behind it, fidgeting in the seat for far too long if only to memorize every required piece to get it moving. she's not a perfect study by any means — no, this would probably be more suited for gustave to be more equipped towards learning the mastery of it — but she's attentive enough to grasp what gets it moving, as well as motivated enough to simply keep moving and see more of this peculiar world she's stepped into.

not that she gets nearly quite as far as she hopes to.

the colorful van certainly hadn't been her top choice, but once she'd realized she couldn't quite so easily store items away with pictos and chroma, it became fairly evident she'd need the space. except it's about an hour along the drive that she feels the sudden jagged motions of the vehicle, the way one corner seems to bounce uncomfortably, forcing her to pull to a stop.

a flat tire, she realizes, hands on her hips once she's standing on the roadside, bare feet flat on gravel that's far too warm on her skin. she'd seen another tire stored in the back, but it still raised another question, crouching down to study her new obstacle as she taps her fingers on the metal rim. ]

Now, how do I get you off? [ she asks of her new friend, the tire with a deep nail puncture torn into its side, pulling the manual out from her back pocket to start swiftly gazing over its pages. ]

sunday | honkai: star rail

[catharses]

arriving + car adventures

[ Get ready for the warp jump, the conductor says, and Sunday sits in his seat with hands gripping his knees slightly in both anticipation mixed with a little dread of the unknown and excitement in equal measure. Amphoreus - a place no one knows much about, and he's eager to begin this journey to the stars despite the cost of which he leaves behind. The countdown begins and he shuts his eyes, excitement now winning out along with a wave of dizziness he was told to expect. Except when he blinks his eyes open... no one else is around, and he's certainly not on the Astral Express. Now nothing here is familiar and Sunday spares a moment to stand there utterly puzzled. Perhaps the others are somewhere else and he just needs to find them.

It takes a minute to regain steadiness as he walks out of the tent to find... cars?

The explanation for why comes rather quickly, even if he's a bit skeptical. These cars certainly aren't the luxury ones he knows. Not even close but even if they were, Sunday's not sure he can recall the last time he drove himself somewhere. After he buys ("buys") the car there's a good chance he'll be lost in studying the driving manual very carefully while either sitting in the driver's seat or outside of it. The expression on Sunday's face is of deep concentration even if much of those instructions are familiar. A conversation with someone else who either knows what they're doing (or doesn't) might be helpful.

And as for the car he has to attain before that? What he settles on is this car because it reminds him just enough of cars he knows from the appearance... mostly. Depending on when someone arrives, they might be there for any stage of his ill-fated negotiation where he absolutely pays Entirely Too Much for the car in exchange for that medical debt. Supposedly. Either way, Sunday seems pleased enough since if the city's really as far as claimed, it's time to get going.

It's just that - well. Driving this size of car is more difficult when it's actually not at all like the sleek ones despite (vaguely) resembling them. Turning's a bit difficult when one of the signals works intermittently and even though he's not often driving at a fast speed, collisions certainly happen. Not even just with other cars - a street sign or two might also get knocked over while navigating - though with either, he'll sheepishly step out of the car to examine the damage. ]

Well. It certainly seems I have some more practice to do.

[ Hopefully not in taking out more signs. And surely an apology is forthcoming if it was your car he hit? Give him a second to remember that's necessary. ]

panorama

[ Turns out it wasn't an exaggeration about the travel time, so it's good to see the city approach. It's crowded and a bit overwhelming with so much to learn, but Sunday still walks confidently through the streets as if unconcerned for his safety. This is not the star system of Asdana, but he sees no reason to not believe the Harmony isn't in reach and wouldn't lend THEIR grace to solving any problems.

Much like his brief time before boarding the Astral Express, there's the problem of his nearly empty wallet to solve as he stops at the grocery store. Whatever credits he has with him are useless, he's realized rather quickly, so time to figure something else out. A problem solved quite nicely for now by those free samples on his first trip, and again on the next ones even if he has (a tiny bit of) funds by then.

Everything he tries is quite good, but it's the chocolate-covered alien eggs catch his eye. There's no hesitation from Sunday in picking one up to try, since - ]

This reminds me a bit of when my sister used to send me sweets and I'd try all sorts of things I'd never had before. I've found the best things that way, though I'm still hoping to find a good egg tart around here somewhere.

[ Announced to whoever might be nearby, in case they need some encouragement whether they wanted it or not since he's already volunteering his opinion.

It takes quite a few days and quite a few adventures before Sunday thinks he's found what's as close to a routine. So much for that when the power outages hit. The phone he's acquired isn't much by way of light so it's a good thing the room he's in is fairly small as he carefully makes his way to the door. The hallway isn't in any better state when the hallway's somehow even dimmer than his room as he peers out into the darkness, but it does reveal there's a lack of light everywhere.

The sound of a door opening somewhere behind him has Sunday starting to turn towards it, but that's before there's a lot of shouting just muffled enough so he can't quite tell what's going on as someone runs down a connected corridor. Either way, it's enough to get him to look back towards where he'd heard that door open. ]

What do you suppose is happening over there?

[ The sort of thing he'd normally hold back from investigating as evidenced by still standing right where he is, but. It's getting louder, and that's concerning. ]

the fringes

[ The lack of service isn't ideal, Sunday thinks as he frowns down at the phone he's become rather attached to. The hope of hearing from someone he knew dwindles a little more each day he's here, but he's not thinking about that in favor of being useful.

Which was going great if he's joined someone inside this building after an offer of partnering up as they've been searching and agreed to retrieve the crates together, but not so much as he looks up at the sound of the lock buzzing to discover that message. Muttering something about this being unfortunate (perhaps the understatement of all time), Sunday turns to begin going through the desk's contents. None of it is notable; it seems a lot like the contents of his own desk back in a study he'll never return to until something written on a notebook hidden beneath a stack of documents catches his eye. On it is scrawled something about a triple-faced soul, and he abruptly freezes into place. It's not so much the mention of Xipe which gets him, but what's scrawled after it: a recitation of rites he's done many times before. How is it here? Has another member of The Family arrived before him?

Of course, if he's by himself in the room when the doors sealed, maybe that partner on the outside or someone walking by can get his attention and get him back to the task. The water's rising, after all. ]

wildcard + ooc note

( Feel free to tag in with anything else of your choice or to change the direction of any of these prompts! I'm 100% in for any and all situations, and I'm also happy to write up more specific starters if we want to plot something too.

As an important note, Sunday has a variety of powers which are listed here in an opt in post (you can also opt out of him partially or entirely here). These are written roughly off his canon powers and are opt out by default for player characters. They won't be used without permission, though he may mention them or use them on an NPC depending on the situation! If you'd like any of them to feature in a thread please feel free to fill out the form. I'm up for talking anything out via PM, on my EMP comment, or you can find me at indech at any time! )

panorama

[frostfist]

[ He's on his way back from a shift at the supermarket when the lights go out, keys tugged out from his jacket pocket as he clambers up the last of the steps. It's not ideal timing - hard to heat up water for tea when nothing'll turn on - but his mental rearranging's interrupted first by a cacophony of voices, and then a single one separate from the rest.

Turning, he makes out the vague outline of a figure framed by a doorway. ]

Dunno. [ Light. Casual. He's pretty sure he hasn't met this particular building neighbor, but the city is a big place and he hasn't been here all that long. ] One way to find out though.

[ With a nod of his head towards the commotion. ]

Though if you don't like getting roped into unwanted tussles, I'd recommend you head back inside.

henry creel 🕷️ stranger things

[vecna]

001: DRIVING 20 IN A 60

[Henry Creel is very, very good at keeping politeness hewn onto his face, but when he is presented with the apparent “only” option of car left, something strains in his smile.]

It’s hideous.

[One might assume there are not-so-great association with an old-timey car like this one, but he’s left with little choice. It would be a bad idea, perhaps, to not accept a mode of transportation when he has nothing else to his name. And ultimately, Henry takes it off the “lot”, so to speak.

Driving is not exactly something he has experience in. So, sometime down that long stretch of road, you might come across a teal car driving achingly slow. Perilously slow. Geriatrically slow.

Dare you honk your horn at him? Or maybe you can get him to pull over and see if he needs any help…]

002: BLACKOUT

[He’s unfortunately already in the hallway when the lights in the motel go out, throwing everything into the darkness. It surprises him, of course, but only briefly… and certainly not enough to pull him away from the vending machine in front of him.

Well, then.

A loud, sudden shatter of glass. It may be impossible to perceive—unless you’ve some way to see in the darkness, of course!—but the vending machine’s front is obliterated, glass crumbled to the floor, just a mess at his feet. How’d this happen? Don’t worry about it.

Henry reaches forward, blindly groping for whatever free snacks are now at his disposal. Is this thievery? Yeah, what of it.

He can sense the mind of someone nearby. Their presence, brushing up against his thoughts.]

If you don’t tell, I won’t. I’ll even share.

003: LOCKDOWN

[It’s hard to imagine Henry ended up here via an act of selflessness, but selfishness isn’t out of the question. Regardless of the reasoning, he’s now sealed in as the water around them begins to rise, and the amiable mask slips — it’s all scowling and impatience from this man now, cutting his glance to the other poor fool stuck in the same situation.]

Someone must have written the password down somewhere.

[With his telekinesis, an entire metal desk floats up and flings itself at the door. It crashes angrily then falls back down with a splash. More helpfully: the movement has dislodged a handful of notepads and binders from its drawers, which now float freely on the water's surface. For now, anyway.]

Don’t just stand there. Look for it.

WILDCARD

[this bad boy can fit so many prompts in it]

003 lockdown with my bff 5eva

[healbuff]

Oh, shit.

[A telekinetic? That's useful, more than useful, but there's little time to be in awe as the water rises up around them. River's quick to listen to the other man and starts rifling through the notepads and binders, trying to see what jumps out at him regarding the release code.]

No, nope, nada, nope again, nada...

[Even though he's designated as a GP, he isn't a stranger to emergency situations. His eyes quickly scan various documents and his hands discard anything useless. Fortunately, the triple-laminated binder catches his attention first.]

Got it!

[He lets out a deep breath, keeping his pulse steady as he flips through it.]

Oh, boy, that's a lot of symbols.

Frank Castle | Punisher

[terrorisms]

( open starters below; hit me on plurk at paingravy or discord @righteously for anything. down to match format for brackets or prose. warnings for violence, language, and general assholery.
no remaining invites to offer, unfortunately! )

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍

[terrorisms]

( The last thing he remembers is oncoming headlights, the screeching of brakes, and the slam of an impact. He'd been traveling — nowhere in particular, just drifting — when an oncoming car ran a red light and T-boned him at an intersection. Blinding white, sharp pain, then nothing.

And then this. This place. A masked figure that he very nearly bodies to the fucking ground, except the vertigo kicks in first, and he staggers back onto the cot, too doped up on something to fly immediately into attack dog mode. That's the only reason he listens. The only reason he absorbs anything — bleary as it is at first, unreal as it seems.

Then again, after the attack on New York, after aliens, androids, and wizards, what's left to question anymore? This type of shit's normally out of his wheelhouse, but the wheelhouse fucking abducted him, so what else is there to do but figure shit out?

He gets to pick from a cherry t-top convertible with no top to go with it, a rust-bucket of a Yamaha, or the option he ultimately settles on: a soccer mom van. On the back, a bumper that reads coexist, and a little stick figure family decal on the back glass depicts a very nice lesbian couple, two stick figure kids, and several stick figure cats.

It takes him another day for the drugs to wear off completely before he's fit to drive. He leaves as the sun is setting, and an hour later, rolls up on the current scene.

It's one of the oldest scams in the book. A classic. Someone left a baby stroller on the side of the road, with just enough of something bundled into it to be concerning. He can make out the tail lights of another car braking to a stop to investigate, and he curses under his breath; god damn it, come on, don't be stupid-

The moment that good Samaritan opens their driver's side door, a small group of assholes spring out from the ditch, from behind rubble and broken down buildings, from behind hiding spots, to descend on whoever happens to be dumb of ass and pure of heart enough to fall for it.

Frank sighs. Pulls over.
And gets out of the car. )

Dean Winchester | Supernatural

[righteously]

( open starters below; hit me on plurk at paingravy or discord @righteously for anything. down to match format for brackets or prose. warnings for violence & functional alcoholism.
no remaining invites to offer, unfortunately! )

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴠɪʟɪᴏɴ

[righteously]

( Ya boi is here for one thing and one thing only: free samples.

There's nothing like it, okay, and he's a man of simple pleasures. It's tiny little food on toothpicks that people just give out for free, what's not to love? Granted, okay, yeah, the alien egg thing threw him off a little the first time — and the second time... but by the third time he circles around he's finally embraced the weird and he's ready to eagerly reach for it-

-only to have his hand slapped away by the woman manning the tray.

"Sir, you've been by here three times already-" )

Twice!

( He corrects instantly, knee-jerk defensive and hugging his slapped hand to his chest like it was the most grievous of injuries. Truly, the only thing wounded is his pride.

"Regardless, this ain't a charity, fly-boy," she snaps, with just enough 'tude to send him immediately into Prickly Bitch mode. )

Hey- I don't see any friggin' rules posted anywhere saying you can only have two-

( She points to a sign perched on the table beside the tray. It reads: Free Samples! Limit: 2.

There's a long pause. )

Oh. Huh. Yeah, well, you should really make that bigger, what is it, a sign for ants?

marc spector, marvel comics

[vestments]

⏾ PANORAMA, power outage

( if asked, marc would claim he prefers the dark, or maybe he'd say that it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't sleep at night — although judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes, the ones that suggest a habitual lack of sleep rather than the occasional, infrequent bout of insomnia, one might wonder if he sleeps at all.

(the answer's yes, but for maybe four hours — five if he's lucky — a night.)

what makes him less comfortable is the motel. it's been a long time since he's had to share accommodations, and though he's tempted to ride the dark out quietly, alone, it's not especially thrilling. he'd heard whispers that staying, being known to be alone, invited trouble during times like this, and that'd elicited a grim sort of amusement, the kind that's more promise and threat than humour.

what protector of the travellers of night would he be if he did nothing?

and so he leaves his room, seemingly unarmed, seemingly just a man — neither are lies, he's both, but he moves with the quiet stealth that comes with both training and practise, that says he's used to being a weapon should it come to it, that getting hurt is the least of his concerns and, maybe, he'd welcome it.

he stops outside one door, listening. intent. considering. two people, maybe three—, he decides, and moves on. the next is quieter, and he leans into the door, raises a fist and knocks, sharp and perfunctory, before waiting.

maybe it's your room, or maybe you round the corner and find him stood there, hand resting on the door handle, surprise and expectancy competing for dominance in his expression.

he pauses.

then— )

You shouldn't be out here alone.

( it's not meant to be a threat. )

⏾ THE FRINGES, set free

( he'd gravitated towards a motorbike — he'd had several at one point, back when steven grant had a long island mansion and back before marc spector had destroyed his own reputation. for the third, and certainly not the final time.

and then he'd been left with just the one, which he'd had custom painted white because he'd decided it was moon knight's bike, not marc spector's. the one he has here, now, is nothing like that one. sure, it's quick enough, but it's not flashy. it's nothing he'd choose given the option of choice — realchoice, not whatever yom crook had offered.

but it does the job and that's what matters, even out here. even in the rain.

he's cold — of course he is, he's hardly dressed for the weather, not all in white, a three-piece suit from head to toe. jacket. waistcoat. boots. gloves. fussy crescent moons as buttons and cufflinks. signs of wear, unrelated to the rain — smudges of dirt here and there, dark red-come-brown at the edges of sleeves and on the knuckles of his gloves.

apparently, marc's unbothered.

he pauses just once, gaze flickering towards the sky, not quite curious but searching. a moment after that, and he's at a window. through the lack of light outside, it's easyish to see inside, easyish to catch sight of the person inside. he doesn't try tapping, not as his first option, instead — marc spector being marc spector and a man of escalation — he pulls out a truncheon, the only weapon he'd found on his person after coming to.

a step back, a determined swing, a thud — not the smash he'd been expecting — and that's it. he grimaces, mouth curling down in a sharp expression of unhappiness, one punctuated by a frustrated almost-growl, a—) Fuck, ( that's muttered low and more to himself than the person inside or anyone that might have turned up after him.

once he realises there is someone else, he'll step back away from the window, shoes crunching against the ground as he turns. for a moment, he's quiet, brown eyes dark and studious, the furrow of his brow obscured by sodden, almost-wavy hair. his mouth thins and he inhales, gesturing towards the window in a tight, restrained motion. )

We need to find a way inside.

( blunt, chicago-accented for any familiar, albeit softened by years of travel. it's not quite unhappy, but it's edging towards it, as if displeasure's his permanent state of being and he'll brook no arguments on the concept of 'we' given the person trapped inside the building. )

⏾ WILDCARD + OOC

( feel free to hmu with anything else! anywhere else! i'll match style if you prefer prose.

fwiw, marc has zero powers or abilities, however i do have an info post here, as well as a post for content warnings. if you want to discuss anything, pp me at spandex! or else hit up my emp. )

panorama, power outage

[kingsroads]

[ It is indeed Strange's room. And he is there alone. Jonathan Strange, a man closer to forty than thirty, with more gray in his hair than he'd like to admit, sits near the window with the confidence of a straight white man who hasn't had anything bad happen to him. Him? Not alone? Ridiculous, it would be just as nonsensical to room with a stranger!

Considering that his clothing is Regency England, Pride and Prejudice style, it's also apparent that he simply might not be aware of the dangers surrounding him. ]

You needn't worry. I managed to acquit myself quite well in the Peninsula, [ he says with the confidence that Marc knows what the fuck the Peninsula means. That English accent and devil-may-care attitude in his tone of voice mark him even more as "not from here." ] Besides, what do they plan on doing, robbing me? Any potential brigands shall be disappointed—I have nothing on hand.

Laura Howlett | XMCU

[valle]

( open starters below; hit me on plurk at paingravy or discord @righteously for anything. totally down to match format for brackets or prose. warnings for violence & possible references to historical child abuse/neglect.
no remaining invites to offer, unfortunately! )

𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑

[valle]

( She decides on an old cloth-top Jeep that's seen better days. Worse for the wear, but she's assured it's reliable. They can't read it from her expression that she doesn't know any better, too carefully stoic and stone-faced to know whether or not she buys in or if she suspects anything — but it's usually the latter. Wariness is her default setting.

Which is why she isn't exactly surprised when she barely makes it forty minutes down the road before the back left tire goes completely fucking flat. There's a spare in the back, but there's one issue:

Nobody ever taught her how to change a tire.

Catch her silently trying to fumble through it herself with... middling results, maybe stop and offer to help if you're feeling generous. She doesn't seem inclined to flag anybody down for it, so anyone that happens to watch for any length of time will get a nice, frustrating view of her spending the better part of half an hour figuring it out )