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

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.)

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!]

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.

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."

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. ]

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! ]

0:)

[widows_kiss]

[ It's cute he's worried about her. She's flattered.

Still, she settles into an easy, casual pose, one that doesn't outwardly look defensive, for all that she's angled herself slightly between the man in the chair and the two with the knives. The leader definitely looks the sort to be all bluster and send his goons to do most of the work for him while he looks big and tough, so she's guessing Knife #1 and #2 are the most imminent threats. Even if she uses that term lightly. ]

Well? What's it gonna be, boys? Gonna walk away while you still can?

[ No offense, chair guy.

Either way, the knife boys prove that they're going to continue to be idiots, because the one on her left lunges forward with a sneer, a quick jab at her that is definitely meant as more of a threat or a feint than an actual attack, but it was an opportunity all the same.

A twist, a sharp grip and yank of his wrist, a gasp of pain from him a moment before his knife falls neatly into her hand. A swipe of his ankle sends him reeling backwards, only to trip off the back of the sidewalk and land hard on the road behind him.

The other two gape at him even as she flips the knife into a more comfortable grip and smirks at them. ]

Next...?

[heavymetals]

[ Dumbfounded is a good way to describe how he feels like now, and he likely looks it, too. To him, it's been a few good months since they've last seen each other; Erik has had time to sit with his own thoughts, to find a new place, a new identity, the beginnings of a plan to settle somewhere relatively safe; somewhere that he won't be so easily recognized.

Charles looks and sounds as angry as the last time they've seen each other. What time did for Erik doesn't seem to have done the same for Charles— or perhaps this is a bridge that he has burned for good.

Perhaps it's the lack of immediate animosity that might tell Charles that it's been a little longer, for Erik; or maybe it's the beginnings of a beard he's now sporting, or the longer hair. He looks about as tired and sleep deprived as Charles, though, and as much in need of a good shower and a change of clothes, but that can definitely be blamed on this place. ]

How exactly do you imagine I'd have the ability to do all of this?

[ It's said pointedly, but tiredly, not ready for this fight that's absolutely about to happen. But he's not the one who'd be able to create an illusion this complex— it takes every last ounce of energy in him to keep that particular thought to himself.

But with Charles, no thought is really ever kept to himself, so. ]

[mississippis]

[ Of all the vehicles she doesn't expect to come into view, perhaps the last is a multicolored van. Her own bike seems dull in comparison, never mind out of order, and beggars can't be choosers, especially in this case.

Anyway, at least the guy who rolls down the window looks friendly enough, a little familiar even though the dark hair and unaged face throw her. His voice though, that makes her pause for a second, the tentative smile she's slapped on her face (mostly because she figures she has a better chance of getting help if she's not scowling), dims for a moment, like she's trying to figure out why it's so familiar.

It's also been years since she's seen the Professor or heard his voice.

The smile she's hoping will earn her some goodwill flickers back to life. The Professor's not the only British guy in the world (presumably, she doesn't know about this particular world) and she's probably seeing and hearing what she wants to, trying to make herself feel less adrift and nervous about climbing into a van with a total stranger. ]

Between you and me, you're the one with the running vehicle, so I'm not gonna complain about your driving. [Her own voice has a Southern lilt, and she amps that up as well, because a little bit more of it never hurts in these situations either. ] Do you think there's room in the back for the bike?

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?"

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. )

lucina | fire emblem: awakening

[heritors]

→ 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!! ]

[alwaysme]

He's a weird one, then. Might fit in with the Topsiders, but even that doesn't seem quite right.

She tosses one of the two weird vegetables to him. He might just let it drop. If he does she'll simply shrug and laugh him off and his silly bright-sunshine way of trying to scold her. It ain't gonna work, kid.

If he catches it though, whether out of surprise or weird instinct, she adds, "Oh, shame, now you look like my accomplice. You might as well eat in, then."

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!]

arrival.

[carcajous]

Ten days ago, Logan woke up, fell off the bed onto his ass, and kicked a robot across the tent. Scared the shit out of two other patients and one doctor. He still doesn't know what the hell is going on, can't figure out where the fuck he got booted to, but it's gotta have something to do with that damn time travelling bullshit they did, right? What else would it be?

At least he's not drowning anymore. That's nice.

The city doesn't call to him, doesn't much care for it, and so the road's where he ends up. Despite all of its quirks, as Charles might've called it, he still prefers it out here. Besides, he's not gonna get any answers by sitting around, surrounded by peeling wallpaper. Enough time's passed that he doesn't expect to run into anybody he knows. Figures—why would anybody else be here? Or maybe he's just kinda hoping nobody will, 'cause if they are, it means he didn't just screw up his own path, he screwed up everybody else's, too.

Funny, that that's what he's thinking about when who else does he catch waving on the side of the road but Rogue. He pauses, blinks. Tries to think if it's a trick or something messing with his head. He'd know her anywhere, but it's been...God, he doesn't have a clue how long since he thought they'd lost her for good. Sometimes, he's pretty sure the war went for an extra fifty years, and nobody fuckin' noticed except him.

But it's her. (Right?)

He pulls up. Real or not, it doesn't matter; he's not gonna turn away if there's a chance.

For a second, he's just. Staring, watching. His gaze travels down the strip of white along her hair, the outfit he recognizes isn't exactly hers. She looks about the right age, the age she'd been when he last saw her. He doesn't know what to say.

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

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! )

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. ]

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]

[thetruefocus]

[ As soon as he says it, he understands the ridiculousness of the idea, but it is difficult not to see a problem after what they've gone through and not thought perhaps Erik caused it. Unfair, perhaps, but he is just as new to other universes as Erik is. He does take in all the details he sees with Erik. Blue eyes hone in on him quickly, focused, noting all the differences and similarities. Hungry, in a way, since he thought they were about to be parted indefinitely again.

He doesn't reach out with his mind, nor does he need to. He knows he's telling the truth. ]

I don't know.

[ It's said with some amount of frustration because he knows that he is terribly wrong, but losing the high ground of their conversation has recently become easier. The tension in his expression gentles and he sighs, looking away from him. He thought the distance between them stretched on and on, and yet there Erik is, only a few feet away. His hand tightens on the wheels of his new chair, far from the complex one that Hank designed for him back home, and he presses his lips together tightly.

Is it relief that he feels, at some semblance of familiarity? Or is that cruel, in a way, to be glad to see someone stuck in the same situation? Erik's presence has become heavy where it once was featherlight. He is wearing the same clothing that Erik may have seen him in that day in DC, he has no change of them yet. There is even still blood on the collar, for now. ]

Sorry.

[ It's painful to say but Charles hates being unfair. He's been out of practice with people, and Erik has a way of dragging reactions out of him. ]

How long have you been here?

⚔ The Scrapyard

[betenoir]

[Waking up in another reality is a harrowing experience. His body and mind ache over an hour after regaining consciousness. The bloodcurdling scream of a young woman had pierced his ears during a monochrome nightmare. Now here in the waking world it feels like her voice has etched itself into his bones.

His body is exhausted. His mind is lethargic

But he cannot allow himself to rest and ignores how his fears and emotions linger when he puts himself to work.

Perhaps the individual standing behind him finds his examination of a broken engine curious. Or they have sensed something a little untoward with how deeply he is focusing upon reading the manual or analysing various sketches and drafts of machinery. But he shows his awareness of their presence when he asks a question.]

Do you understand why great artists and engineers are alike?

[pse]

[ It takes her a moment to get her bearings again after Charles turns the scene on its head, flips the board upside down and scatters and rearranges all the pieces, but she lets Albert go. His arm will be sore for a day or three, that's it. He doesn't know how lucky he is.

As they retreat, their steps too unison and too symmetrical, Kimiko's body language goes from feral wolf to defensive tortoise as she considers Charles.

The last time she saw someone act the men did, so stricken and stilled by a simple verbal command, she was twelve years old and in the fighting pit of the Shining Light. Her opponents looked like the men did: slack, blank-eyed, clay waiting to be moulded. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks, none too quietly and in a messy, emotional pidgin of Japanese and Tagalog and English, this man is a supe.

Maybe she's internalised more of Butcher's crusade than she ever wanted to. But she's no longer seeing Charles as the diminutive waif in the chair that needs protection, and she's less inclined to be gentle. She doesn't step back into the previously occupied space she'd held next to his chair. She ought to walk away, but— It isn't always easy to do that.

Fortunately, she did shove quite a few crumpled slips of paper into her coat. She pulls one out now and hands it to him.

On one side: I didn't take your keys.
On the other side: Are you okay?

Look, paper and graphite aren't exactly cheap. ]

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.

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! )

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! )