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TEST DRIVE ∞ March. 2026
Test Drive ∞ March 2026
The Second Dawn
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.
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 thread below to request an invite from another player.
Current characters can make top-levels to the TDM, but you must include prompts that are open to all. Please label CURRENT or NEW in the subject.
Current characters can make top-levels to the TDM, but you must include prompts that are open to all. Please label CURRENT or NEW in the subject.
∞ Summary ∞
IC-wise, arrivals are scattered from mid-month into the next month. 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 care instead...so take the car. It'll come in handy.
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. New arrivals will not be affected by the recent event.
Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. New arrivals will not be affected by the recent event.
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 texting or calling anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.
Scrapyard
Arrival & Introduction
Date: Late March into April
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.
In contrast to previous arrivals, you are greeted by two Yom Crook. Now working in pairs for once, it's clear the situation you've landed in is currently undergoing some...changes. In the distance, you see remnants of smoke rising from a looming city. Each Yom wears a mask ©. 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.
Yom tells you that they have bad news: recent riots have disrupted their supply chain, meaning they don't have many cars available. They also have some good news: you're getting a discount, since their offerings aren't up to standard. Of course, if your car later needs more repairs than typical, that's coming out of your pocket. At least the upfront loan is cut by half? Additionally, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free regardless.
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. Don't get too lax with your loan despite the discount. With the city in tatters and only just recovering, finding a job's a bit harder.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more suggestions than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.
In contrast to previous arrivals, you are greeted by two Yom Crook. Now working in pairs for once, it's clear the situation you've landed in is currently undergoing some...changes. In the distance, you see remnants of smoke rising from a looming city. Each Yom wears a mask ©. 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.
Yom tells you that they have bad news: recent riots have disrupted their supply chain, meaning they don't have many cars available. They also have some good news: you're getting a discount, since their offerings aren't up to standard. Of course, if your car later needs more repairs than typical, that's coming out of your pocket. At least the upfront loan is cut by half? Additionally, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free regardless.
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. Don't get too lax with your loan despite the discount. With the city in tatters and only just recovering, finding a job's a bit harder.
You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more suggestions 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: Your vehicle stalls on the road; your rickety passenger or driver-side door suddenly falls off; your tank of gas isn't enough to get you all the way to the city.
Panorama
Explore & Settle In
Conditions: Cool temperatures, spring rains, occasional sun
After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization...sort of. 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: the Pavilion, the Blocks, and the Sanctum. The commute between each district is roughly 1 hour, depending on where you start and end. There are shops and stores within walking distance of the Blocks, too. The division between the Pavilion and the Blocks isn't strict.
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.
Oh, and a third thing: a week-long blackout collapsed society a bit, so the usually pristine Sanctum and the rest of Panorama—already grungy, but now somehow worse—is now full of broken glass, bodies, and looters. The power's finally back on, thankfully, but the work to get things back in order isn't going well. Luckily for you, this means that you're the first set of fluxdrifts to have access to the Sanctum from the outset.
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.
Oh, and a third thing: a week-long blackout collapsed society a bit, so the usually pristine Sanctum and the rest of Panorama—already grungy, but now somehow worse—is now full of broken glass, bodies, and looters. The power's finally back on, thankfully, but the work to get things back in order isn't going well. Luckily for you, this means that you're the first set of fluxdrifts to have access to the Sanctum from the outset.
The Pavilion / The Blocks: Clean-Up Detail
The city just has a lot to clean up now that the lights are back on. Between the looting, the spoiled food, and the blood staining the sidewalks, residents are oscillating between giving up on the mess and doing their best to put their businesses and homes back together. While troublemakers remain aplenty, some are willing to lend a hand or who'll appreciate a hand given. And there are others still who'll pay you a decent sum for pitching in.
- Powerwashing: The quickest way to get blood off concrete is to powerwash. As a result, several places will hire you to scrub the dried gore and viscera from the front of their establishment. Unfortunately, water tends to be unreliable in Panorama on the best of days, so you might wind up soaking wet, spraying innocent bystanders, or with a pump that just won't work unless you pause to repair it first. Good luck!
- Walled Off: Booby traps of all types were laid around Panorama during the blackout to deter thieves. One such warding spell has grown out of control and encased an entire block in a gelatin, preventing anyone from entering an entire block of shops and diners. Understandably, employees and customers alike are upset. To pitch in, you can shovel away the gelatinous goop or melt it, section by section. It'll take a bit of work over the next couple of days to tear it all down. Even if you're not usually inclined to assist, you might be convinced by the fact that you need to access a shop.
Also, the goop has an oddly enticing minty smell. Perhaps...a little taste won't hurt...? If you give in to your cravings, you may yourself become slightly goopy for a few hours, your fingers and limbs jiggling strangely like flubber.
The Sanctum: New Lodgings
The Sanctum is currently in a state of disrepair, thanks to the riots that broke out following the days-long blackout near the end of March. While the power's back up now, signs of looting, fires, and other damage and violence remains littered across the streets. The gates are also permanently down, having been blown up during that week, and no one's bothering to keep people out anymore: Panorama residents are free to go in and out of the Sanctum, including you. A few of the cameras are back online, but many are still in the process of being repaired.
- The Reef: Nearest to the gates, and the original carnage, is an area now covered in a mysterious organism, resembling kelp and other marine plants. Though it doesn't appear dangerous or contagious, it's latched onto surfaces along the block like a bizarre underwater feature without the water. Considering the research from the nearby T.M. Labs, which had been in the midst of exploring the concept of ocean life on a planet without an ocean, one can guess where they came from.
As a result, the more rundown buildings in the area have been cleared out, making it the perfect place to live in if you don't want to pay up. In exchange, you'll need to guard your belongings carefully. In the middle of the night, you might also be prone to pigeons, crows, and raccoons climbing through your window to eat your food or ravage your belongings. Still, it can't be much worse than the Blocks south of the city, can it? And it is free. Once you make it inside, you'll find that despite the damage, the apartments inside aren't that bad. The skeleton of these buildings, and the remaining furniture that's functional, is a grade higher than what you'd find in the motels back in the Blocks.
Of course, you might also find signs of what went wrong. Someone once lived here, after all. Where did they go? Is there a body in the tub? Books and belongings that signify a life cut short? How good do you feel taking over a home that belongs to the dead?
OPTIONAL PROMPTS: A pigeon is inside your home but refuses to leave; a plank from a boarded-up window falls from above and lands on you; you slip in the goop and are struggling to free yourself.
The Fringes
Quad 3: Child's Play
Conditions: Nighttime, raining.
Notes: A giant cube might be seen floating above the Fringes. Don't worry about it.
Notes: A giant cube might be seen floating above the Fringes. Don't worry about it.
As you're driving, you hear children singing, though the words aren't in any language you understand. Still, somehow you just know that these are the voices of children. If you follow the music, you'll come across a dilapidated playground filled with strange small, formless creatures with long tentacle-like arms and an otherwise human body. They go down the slides, ride around on an old tricycle, and play in the muddy puddles.
If you make physical contact with one of them, you'll experience one of the following:
If you make physical contact with one of them, you'll experience one of the following:
- You are compelled to give in to childlike urges you haven't let yourself indulge in for many years. You will invite whoever happens to be with you to play along. The feeling is gentle, more like someone quietly encouraging you to give in than a desire that takes over. The strange creatures may join you, and before you depart, they will give you a small wooden totem carved in a similar shape. You can sell it to the storm chasers for research, or you can simply keep it to remind you of a rare happy moment.
- You become overwhelmingly protective of these creatures you have never known until now. They almost feel like your own children, and you will guard them against perceived threats. In fact, the emotion is so great that you may mistake friendly gestures as danger and react accordingly.
- You become obsessively concerned with their joy and will lose track of time playing with them. Each time you start to leave, they will beg for just "one more game" of toss or hopscotch, and you find yourself caving. It's not that you've forgotten who or where you are. You just don't realize how many hours have gone by. You ignore signs of thirst and pay little attention to any injuries you might've sustained on the road here. Perhaps a friend or a stranger can come by to snap you out of it. The childlike creatures will be disappointed, but they won't stop you from leaving.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
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INVITE REQUEST ∞
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, but if you don't hear from us, you can try again next TDM. Invites close when Reserves open on March 28.
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 FormTDM ∞ Questions
- 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. 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.
- Force your character's vehicle to have ridiculous decals or color schemes they'll hate.
- Give your character a low-level job in addition to the contract option provided.
- 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.
- Take a chunk of the goop with you in a Tupperware container.
- Perform pest control duties by attempting to safely remove and relocate pigeons and raccoons occupying abandoned buildings.
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.
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Edit: wait actually I also need to know-- would either the goop or the kelp have any natural instincts/memories to impart like "wow i wanna photosynthesize so good"
for mushroom reasons
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david haller, legion
also — i'm going to lean with outside of the whole high failure rate thing, overuse will lead to physical/mental fatigue and an inability to control his telepathy (ie. the noise will be Overwhelming and he'll probably cry.)
also² please check out his content warnings and opt-out, ty. )
SCRAPYARD
PANORAMA
FRINGES
OTHER
WILDCARD
ғʀɪɴɢᴇs;
Sometimes, in a manner that would probably be concerning for most other people, but that is alarmingly common for Jack, he simply blinks and finds himself coming back to the present having no memory of consciously choosing to go. He is simply there, in the space between one blink and the next, with no recollection of the passage of time, or the drive over. It's an unfortunate but long-running side-effect of his condition, and despite its inconveniences, he's pretty much gotten used to it.
Tonight, it's that last thing that brought him here, and coming back to the present is probably too generous of an interpretation of his mental state.
He sort of, kind of comes-to finding himself staring at another man from some ten or twelve feet away. A few yards further behind him, Jack's burgundy '98 Pontiac Sunfire sits with the keys in the ignition, the battery off, but the windshield wipers somehow inexplicably still sweeping back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, in a mesmerizing, hypnotic rhythm.
There are a few things wrong with Jack that David might notice — aside from the dark circles of sleeplessness under his eyes and his pale complexion, he's also missing the pinky absent from his left hand. Careful scrutiny of the rips of his jeans will reveal that his right leg is, in fact, a leg-shaped prosthetic beginning somewhere just below the knee. But, perhaps more important than any of that, are a few things only certain special individuals are capable of detecting. Maybe David can, maybe he can't. The children can, and they seem fascinated - insomuch as a creature without a face can project fascination. First, there is something extremely off about Jack's mind, and second, there is a staggering amount of energy, eldritch, void-rift, impossible, saturating him like a sponge. Like a fully-charged battery, waiting to be siphoned.
All this culminating strangeness should lead to a climactic first impression, one might think, but in actuality there's a dreamy, almost absurdly nonthreatening casualness in both posture and tone when Jack simply says: )
Hi.
( It's pleasant-apathetic, like the way dead-inside minimum wage customer service employees sound. Polite, neutral, and exhausted. Also, perhaps just a touch child-like — though that one may be harder to cotton onto. Jack was a fucking weird kid. )
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Panorama
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panorama.
'there's an obstacle' fjdklh jasnah
is she wrong tho.
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panorama
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fringes
thumbs up, good to know!
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waves hand (panorama)
here we go baby
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Nicholas D. Wolfwood | Trigun Maximum | New Player
1: Just taking in the view
[ It’s about an hour later that Wolfwood pulls over, the shitty bike that was all but dropped into his lap making grinding and choking sounds that he’s pretty sure a bike shouldn’t be making. He’ll drop down and take a look at the engine in a moment, but now that he’s got an excuse to stop, he’s taking it.
There’s trees here. There’s clouds, not just duststorms, and there’s water in the air. The single sun gleams down weakly from behind those soft-looking grey clouds, and it’s clear that the road’s been wet recently.
Sure, on the horizon in one direction is a floating cube thing that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and just barely visible in the other direction are lights and towers of what looks to be a good sized city, but right here? Right here it’s quiet.
Don’t mind the broad-shouldered man in the tattered black suit. He’s just having a peaceful cigarette on the side of the road and trying to come to terms with the fact that this place looks a lot more like Heaven than Hell. ]
2: Child’s Play
[ It really doesn’t take much for Wolfwood to feel protective towards a flock of little kids... even if those kids don’t really have faces per se. Or arms. Or... look, they’re sweet enough kids, for all that they’re not entirely there, and something in his soul settles as he sits back on a dilapidated picnic table, watching them run about, shrieking with laughter. He’s dead, probably they’re dead, and maybe this is just how kids look in the afterlife! He’s not one to judge. So long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.
Fair warning to anyone else who might have followed the sounds of childish joy, though: he’s armed, and very likely to shoot first and ask questions never. ]
PANORAMA
[ Wolfwood pulls to a stop well outside of the city gates –- or what’s left of them -- and his heart sinks. This is more of what he’d been expecting to see when he’d opened his eyes -– rubble, and bloodstains, and a city that shows every sign of having been recently torn apart. He’s seen plenty of cities like this over the last year. He’s been responsible for cities looking like this.
So... so this must be his opportunity for redemption. Isn't it?
Without a moment’s further hesitation Wolfwood pockets his bike key and heads over to the nearest person. Please ignore the clear signs of old blood stains on that tattered (torn, and sliced, and bullet shot) black suit. They’re the clothes he died in, and it’s he only suit he owns.
How can I help? Put me to work.
[ He’s got a lot of lives to make up for, after all. ]
((ooc: Want to run into this guy somewhere else? Hit me up on
— panorama
so when wolfwood approached him with that tenacity, the urgency to help and serve, bruno turned to face him. he gently looked him up and down before rubbing his chin—
it might be possible this man knew little of the payment being offered to clean up, or maybe he wanted to work under bruno for payment? we'll he'll have to see, so for now he smiled just a bit before folding his arms. )
Think you can find us some protective clothing? Maybe some kind of cloth or something, we'll be dealing with quite the bit of dirt and biohazards after all.
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wildcard;
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panorama
2 - child's play
1. fringes
WILDCARDING IT HERE
clara oswald ✦ doctor who ✦ current player
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[ Wolfwood's spent most of the day hauling rubble (and clearing bodies out from beneath said rubble), and all he really wants at this point is a wash and a bed, in that order. Maybe a beer, too. Maybe three beers. Somebody had pointed him towards the Sanctum as a good place to find lodging, and he's just about accepted that they were messing with him when he spots the feathery... what is that? ]
Hmm?
[ There's a young woman who seems just as curious about the feathers as he is, and Wolfwood can't help but laugh a little at her question. ]
Nah. Most of what they say's not worth listenin' to.
[ He waves at the feathery thing, and please don't mind the filth coating his tattered suit. He'll find fresh clothes eventually! Probably. ]
Is that thing alive?
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let's dispose of a body
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blocks
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sanctum.
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ii. sanctum
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I.
maelle | clair obscur: expedition 33 | new
ii
He blinks, only seeming to notice that someone else was speaking to him belatedly; turning his head, he spies a young woman who has been delegated the same job as he, except she seems to be adhering to the task better than him, simply by way of holding the overlarge hose meant to wash away the gelatin. Holmes seems to have abandoned the very idea for the sake of investigating this odd once-booby-trap goop.
Still, he offers helpfully(?):]
Ah, there was... [Eyes trail down to the chunk of flesh, then back up.] Chaos in the streets, so to speak. Riots, looting, raiders come to cause bodily harm... You are quite lucky to have missed it.
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i !!
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iii
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iii!! e33 act 1 spoilers in this thread probably
yippie!!!
why did i say probably... it's spoilers all the way down......
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ii.
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iii yolo
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powerwashing;
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iii/rooftop
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III - 7/10 stars
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Ethan Winters | Resident Evil | New Player
Goo is pretty gross, but it's almost quaint in comparison to some of the organic, ah, substances that Ethan is familiar with. Sure, why not? He's built a dodgy home-grown flamethrower before and can just as easily do it again.
"You might want to stand back a bit? If you want to help, once it gets melting, keep the drain clear?"
Ethan stands in the hallway with a heavy package wrapped in an old sheet over one shoulder. He'd been cleaning out the apartment he's unofficially claimed and as a part of that, he's hauling out what's left of the previous residents. At least they'd been dead for long enough that it's not too sloppy of a job?
"Hey, can you hold the door a minute?" Be a good neighbour, won't you?
After getting out of his car, Ethan spots the 'children' and stills. He takes a long, frustrated breath, counts to ten, and then ten again. You'd think that being dragged into another world would spare him meeting tentacle-faced weirdos, but his luck is just that poor. That said, they don't seem actively awful: they don't seem to be laying eggs in someone's chest, eating faces, or whatever baby BOWs do. (Are they even BOWs?) Maybe they're genuinely just the local maggot-face babies that everyone else knows about. Is it ragweed and slime-toddler season? Given that his own daughter is basically a mushroom, what right does he have to throw stones?
He keeps leaning against the passenger door, waiting and watching to see what's going to happen. Someone else can go in first. Someone else should go in first. He should let that happen.
Although, maybe, if he's feeling generous, he might warn a stranger? "I dunno if those kids are alright."
Questions, comments, want a custom starter? Have a wildcard that lives in your heart longing to be free? hmu, bb.
— "and if we do it together, it won't take long"
She passes the man in the entryway with a wide stride and, reaching with a bare right hand, hauls the door open. With the heel of her boot, she props it in place.
"Sorry for your loss," she offers. It doesn't sound like she means it, though. Perhaps just being polite.
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tidying up
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ai thao kha | oc | NEW
💫 Scrapyard
💫 Panorama - Clean Up
💫 The Fringes
clean up
she is mostly minding her own business when she hears the stomach growl. there's a pause as she peeks over at her. hm... ]
Oh. Yeah, I do. [ not really, but the other girl seems embarrassed, so tifa will play along. ] Thanks.
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Clean up at the jelly!
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the fringes
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din djarin | star wars | new
s c r a p y a r d
p a n o r a m a
f r i n g e s
w i l d c a r d
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This hunk of shit wouldn't hit second gear rollin' downhill, and you want it to fly?
[ Don't mind the tattered and bloodstained suit. The guy in the suit is fine -- the clothes are just ruined, is all. ]
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panorama
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ғʀɪɴɢᴇs;
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panorama!
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scrapyard
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scrapyard.
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Senecia Yakshini | Original Character | New Player
Fringes
He was willing to stay hidden so long as the strange woman remained at the edge of the playground, but the instant he thinks she might be considering moving anywhere near those kids he stands up out of his hiding place. His black hair and black suit render him nearly invisible in the shadows, and his gruff voice carries easily over the children's giggles. ]
There's nothing for you here.
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ii. panorama
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panorama
nahla ake ★ star trek (current player, new character)
pavilion
Sure. Can't be that hard, right?
[ From her confident swagger as she saunters over and the way she twirls the cue stick with a flourish, she seems to be an expert at the game...and then she promptly scuffs her first attempt as she whiffs nothing but air. Her second shot has her hitting way too hard, the balls flying off the table entirely.
Maybe...she is also hustling...? ]
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clean-up!
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cleanup;
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pavillion - pool
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ilya rozanov | heated rivalry | new
PANORAMA - POWERWASHING
FRINGES
OTHER
feel free to hit me up my contact post, pm, or discord on request!
Powerwashing
He is quiet and deeply focused on his task when he suddenly gets sprayed from the side. He might have been able to fly away if he saw it coming, but it startles him out of his reverie. Since his last shirt was covered in blood and had bullet holes in it, this is not the worst thing that could happen to a white shirt of his, or his jeans. There is still some blood on his jeans he hasn't fully gotten out, by his shoes and across the knees.
Warm blue eyes fall on the man who did it, but he doesn't look playful, so it must have been an accident. The water managed to really soak him, and he doesn't react the way most people would. He's almost too calm as he gives Ilya a tentative wave.)
They get stuck sometimes. It's not your fault.
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MY SON!!!!!!! MY BABY BOY!!! (i love ilya so much im so excited to see you here!!!!) (panaroma)
😊😊blushing like ilya rozanov doesn't
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scrapyard.
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panorama
original dinosuar!
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power washing
Re: power washing
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powerwashing
Re: powerwashing
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gustave / clair obscur: expedition 33 / new
[ He has his clothes. He has his sword. He has a car now, apparently. And he's still alive.
That's about all Gustave can say about his current situation. Yes, he's gotten the explanation; no, it didn't make sense nor bring him any comfort. Urgently asking after his companions or about the white-haired man got him nothing but a few exasperated looks. So here he stands: bewildered, only barely not doubling over from pain from the enormous wound in his midsection (he looked; it's bad; the bandages couldn't go back on fast enough) thanks to the dubious pills provided by that mechanical Gestral-ish being that apparently did surgery on him, and completely, utterly alone. He can't even decide if that's better or worse than the alternative, considering his circumstances.
The car keys are in his hand, and the car itself sits before him: a crusty-looking station wagon. Under normal conditions, he'd probably be thrilled and intrigued by this relatively advanced piece of tech. Under current conditions, however? Gustave hasn't even gotten in the driver's seat. Instead, he's still in the Scrapyard, standing by the driver's seat door, elbows on the window arch and face in his hands, looking like he's about to have a nervous breakdown. ]
2. quite handy
[ Wait, there's one other thing he has: debt. Apparently. By the time he's reached Panorama, he's accepted the situation - more or less - and decides that he may as well start pitching in. He has to pay off said debt, obviously, but he's also not the type who can just sit around and watch everyone else work while he does nothing. And, of course, there's the fact that he very, desperately, horribly needs to occupy his mind with something or else he'll start sinking into a mental black hole thinking about Maelle and the others.
Power washing it is!
Gustave doesn't know what a power washer is, but inspecting one has him getting the idea pretty quickly. He's also intimately familiar with cleaning up cities after disaster, and, unfortunately, recently familiar with scenes of extreme violence. After a few bouts of nausea from the smell of decaying blood, he barely notices. The struggles of people around him trying to make use of the equipment catch his attention more than the browning organ tissue stuck to the drywall. ]
Um -- hello. I, erm... I think I know what's wrong with yours, [ he says, gesturing to the malfunctioning pressure washer nearby. One might notice said hand is apparently prosthetic. ] Let me take a look at it? I can fix it. Probably.
[ a pause. he seems to remember something. ]
My name's Gustave. By the way.
3. wildcard
[ Anything else! He'll probably be crashing somewhere in the Sanctum because he doesn't want to get even MORE in debt trying to pay for housing... squatting it is!! He'll feel very bad about it, though. If you want to figure out something specific, shoot me a PM.
Also important: I have a spoiler opt-out post HERE. Please drop off a comment there if you'd like to avoid spoilers for COE33, or just let me know in your subject line or w/e! ]
handy... also e33 act 1 spoilers within
So she joins the people trying to clean up after the chaos (a monumental task, of course, given the scale and length of the conflict). Has a task assigned, and a...tool, whatever a power washer is. Sounds self-explanatory, at least. ]
Really? [ The expeditioner heaves a sigh as her own device malfunctions almost immediately, soaking her nearly head to toe in not just water, but some of the gore that had been on the wall in front of her. Nerves still a little frayed, she takes a moment to collect herself, mouth a thin line, it could be worse, it could always be worse —
Then...she hears it. A voice so familiar that it makes her stomach leap before her mind can even process it. Her first assumption is not that he's here, because...well. She'd very recently suffered a bout of madness such that her past, present, and future all played out at the same time. A decent chunk of that had involved her deceased friend, of course, and so this isn't the first time she's heard his voice lately.
It'd be the first real time, though. And the madness has passed, or...so she'd though. So when Sciel turns, sees the familiar back of another expeditioner as he kindly introduces himself to another fluxdrift, the nozzle of the power washer falls abruptly from her hand.
Easy. It'd all seemed real, remember? Oh, but Sciel doesn't operate ruled by logic and reason. She drifts over as if sleepwalking, green eyes wide. Daring to hope. ]
...Gustave? [ Like the arena all over again. You're alive. Please, god, let it be true. ]
🥺
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2
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2, here be spoilers
yippeeeee
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i
sipp do you care about spoilers i don't remember
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1
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2ish
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wildcards
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hopefully ur not sick of #1 yet, also spoilers obv
never
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ii. sorry not sorry to dogpile you (spoilers totally fine btw!)
i welcome the dogpiling
bruno bucciarati — jjba — new
with a chip on his shoulder, he had rolled into his new car and drove off at top speed until something or another came into view. the hot sun rolling down behind him as he drove away said all he felt; a radiating energy marred by dismay and anger at his situation, but he couldn't do much about it, simply leave his emotions to lay.
--
it'd been a while since he arrived in the city, parking his car far and out of reach, keeping an eye out for any suspicious people or danger. he'd kept his head low, tried to cover up the unique outfit he was wearing to prevent attention from being drawn to him and remained in the shadows using his stand ability to peer into conversations. there was talk of hiring cleaners for money, something that got his attention. the type of cleaning was actually literal however, a task he didn't really mind.
what he did mind was the various people walking by and stepping on his hose, causing it too build up in pressure and splash the wall [and him]. after getting some kind of routine with power washing the walls, he began moving quicker and cleaning things up; until the hose finally got him by swinging upwards and splashing him wet with water. )
That's enough!
( with his thick and heavy italian accent roaring in the small alleyway he was in, he rolled his sleeve up and punched the wall in front of him in anger, accidentally bring it down.
oops hopefully no one was on the other side. )
— the fringes (protective)
so anyone else who happened to be lured in by the sounds of children singing would be met by bruno with a long plywood stick in hand, a defensive expression on his person. at 6'0" with muscles to back up that firm expression, bruno was far from one to bne messed with.
even if he did look either fashionable or like a clown depending on the appreciation of the person approaching him. )
— new lodgings
still his kindness isn't without some kind of ulterior motive behind it; truthfully he wanted information and the address to the nearest cell phone store. )
You should be more careful about where you're sleeping, mio amico, these creatures seem to not discriminate between actual food and biting humans for a meal. Still, I'll have to admit you're more brave than me for even trying to sleep here.
— wildcard
wildcard + character info
fringes, team mom meet team mom
[ Despite having a truly... awful experience during her last visit into the Fringes, it was hard to deny the boon that exploring the Fringes offered. She had acquired a rather beautiful collection of silk plants and wedding decorates which she felt suited her bath house quite well, and craved more of that good fortune. But, the additional distance she can put between herself and the city is nice. Her threads, far reaching, had grown weary of the emotional knot that tangled so many souls there. Out here, very little touched her threads, but for one... interesting sight.
It's not the singing children which has her curious, but an isolated man. There's no reason for one to be in such a trifling diffusion zone, least of all for resources, and he seems... on edge, she thinks! A small worry settles in as she turns her car into the strange playground. It would be no good if he's been enraptured by the tricks of this place.
Bruno will hear the car drive up first – and then see it: a strange, purple SUV with horns sprouting from its rear. Aglaea steps out of the car, dressed nicely, with pants instead, knowing better about the danger of the Fringes. In every regard, she is beautiful.
She'll approach close enough to Bruno not to be within his reach, but certainly close enough to speak with him. Her hand brushes the tip of her hair and regards him for a quite moment. ]
Greetings, [ she says with a distant smile. Her eyes, unfocused, see past him. ] You may call me Aglaea. Might I ask what you're doing here?
mom 2 mom connect
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the pavilion cleaning detail
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new lodgings
han sooyoung | omniscient reader's viewpoint | new!
( ii; the blocks| jello time )
( iii; pavilion | drama time )
(iv; wildcard)
☙ wrap it up
She looks like she just walked out of a 1920s jazz club... because she sort of has. ]
Considering the state of most the autocars here, those designs may be all that's holding it together.
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jello time
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erenville . ffxiv . new!
02. i'm at goop.
03. weird science
arrival (shh don't tell anyone im here)
But what it means is that he slows his bike to a stop on spying Erenville parked on the side of the road. Not everyone stopped out here is in need of assistance—indeed on more than one occasion people have attempted to ambush him for his altruism—but Estinien will stop regardless; it costs him little and less to do so. ]
Are you in need of assistance?
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goopin (you can tell everyone it's ok)
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arrival
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Weeeird Science
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weird science
arrival
koana ✧ final fantasy xiv ✧ new!
☙ the reef
She's standing in the doorway, looking concerned. A deck of cards is in her hands, but for the moment she's stopped her shuffling, looking about. "There are more of them. The dead. In most of the rooms. I've looked for one that isn't a tomb and haven't had any luck."
She chuckles, though there's very little humor in it. "I knew the free set of wheels was too good to be true."
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the reef
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the reef.
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clean-up
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clean-up
Mira - Kpop Demon Hunters - New Player
Mira isn’t dead. Somehow.
She remembers the demon attack on the train, how it filtered out to the roof of the car they were on, how she stabbed a demon in front of her as one was coming behind her, how she stepped back just as a heavy demon landed on the other side, how the impact jostled her ankle out from under her, how she toppled over the side, letting out one single quiet curse-
She was pretty sure her brain was supposed to be splattered all over the tracks?
It was throbbing like hell when two masked weirdos ushered her to a scrapyard full of half broken vehicles and told her to pick her poison. Her ankle also felt stiff, and if it weren’t for the combination of the two she might have run one of them through with her gok-do. Instead, she let a doctor push meds into her hand and bid her good luck as she drove off in a peeling blue jeep.
At least it wasn’t grape juice this time?
Driving away from one of the few fights she didn’t pick, the adrenaline was starting to wear off. Something in the jeep she picked was rattling loudly but she barely heard it. She was one of the biggest stars in the world this morning. Now she’s in debt? To someone she’s never seen for something she never asked for?
And alone.
Mira hated being alone.
She kept her eyes wide, locked on the road with a growing anger putting pressure on her tear ducts, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled off the road, popped a pill, took a few increasingly heavy breaths and then slammed her fists on the wheel in rage.
Clean-up
This is totally exactly as much fun as fighting demons.
Totally. It doesn’t suck rotten eggs to hack slimy sticky goo into chunks so it’s easier to shovel. Really, Mira is just thrilled to help. Thrilled She loves helping people. Loves it! It’s the best! There is nothing she wants to do more!
...This would be so much easier if Zoey were here. At least Zoey would smile. The people she’s helping are...probably grateful? But they sure look sour about the whole thing. She’s not even 100% sure what happened, and her (let’s face it) terminal case of RBF hasn’t made people forthcoming.
Actually if she’s honest with herself? She just really misses Zoey, goo or no goo. It’s so much easier when you have people who understand and Mira doesn’t make friends easy. Or maybe it’s just easier to do this stuff where no one really sees you. Nobody sees how frustrated and angry you get when you have to clean goo off yourself.
Also even Zoey would know better than to eat the goo, like she is pretty sure she just saw someone do.
“Heeeeeey, if there was a rule zero for little goo-goo babies about this kind of stuff it’d be ‘don’t eat the secretions.’”
Talk like that is probably why she doesn’t make friends easily, but...who can blame her? Eating mystery goo? Not even for a rebellious photo shoot.
slides on in here
"Jinu!" a younger man calls after him as he walks out of the restaurant, and as Jinu turns toward him he says, "Your apron!"
Jinu takes a single look down and notes the black waiter's apron he'd still been wearing around his midsection; as he removes it and hands it to the other worker in a balled up pile, he coyly offers, "Ah. Thanks."
(And perhaps he sparkles a little when he flips his hair out of his face.
Sometimes it's an unconscious choice, okay?)
"No problem," the young man says, then gives a flustered thumbs up. "Good luck! Hope you get more tips there than here!"
So that's the odd sight Mira gets to witness. An extraordinarily normal exchange between two people, if you didn't know any better. The question is, does she investigate the demon that is currently wandering the other direction down the street?
they're on a collision course with whackiness!
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Scrapyard
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clean-up!
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Guy Cecil | Tales of the Abyss | New
1B.
It'd been a while since she'd felt so lost. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.
She really didn't want to stew in those thoughts on her own, so the vibrant splash of orange on the horizon was kind of a welcome sight. Stranger Danger was true and real, but one glance at the guy she was pulling up to in the beetle she'd been lunked with told her he was probably just as lost as she was.
(Also: kind of cute?? Let her have this moment of peace.)]
Hey— [She leaned on her elbow through the window.] Are you alright?
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monoco / clair obscur: expédition 33 / current player
It's going about two miles per hour. You could probably outpace it on foot. Even if your shoes were three sizes too small. And if both your legs were broken.
You could simply overtake the outrageously slow car and possibly embarrass its driver in the process, but maybe you're feeling nice. (Maybe you want to embarrass them to their face?) The wagon is crawling enough where you could just park and walk alongside it, or sidle up in your own car if you can stand the achingly slow pace.
Regardless of what you choose, what's behind the wheel appears to be a shaggy ape of some kind that barely fits in the driver's seat, hunched over with its gigantic hands gripping the wheel tightly. Just another day in the Diadem.
walled off: the pavilion, panorama.
There is another figure there too (you're not really sure it's a person; more like a Bigfoot wearing a wooden mask), but it doesn't take long before it throws its shovel down in disgust that is somehow very obvious despite it not having a visible face.
It reaches behind its shoulder to take something that's strapped to its back, something that appears to be a polished, tapered stick? Which is probably less effective than a shovel when it comes to moving a goopy barricade, actually...
child's play: quadrant three, the fringes.
Monoco doesn't exactly fit on any of the playground equipment, but he's spent enough time around patates that he knows when to push a little one on a swing and when it's appropriate to make himself sick on a roundabout. For what it's worth, the child-things don't seem bothered by his appearance, a welcome experience after being stared at for the past several days in Panorama. If it weren't for the rain matting his bristles, he might think about staying here forever.
The sound of not-tentacles splashing up to the playground breaks his concentration on catching a child-thing at the bottom of the slide, which skids across a few puddles as he looks up. He stands there with his hands outstretched into the air for a second before he looks back to where the squiddling landed.
"Fuck."
misc.
bowowowildcard
So, he's currently relegated to bumming rides off of whoever is kind or stupid enough to stop. Or drive really slowly past.
Standing on the sidewalk by the Blocks with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Verso spots a crawling station wagon and waves his hand to flag it down.
ouahouahouah en français
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child’s play;
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walled off!
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befriend a raccoon? i can change things, josuke will show up eventually
screaming quietly
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finally. cloud can be free of verso
no one is ever truly "free" of verso
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Scarlet El Vandemion | May I Ask For One Final Thing? | New
While it's not terribly difficult to annoy Scarlet, actually distressing her is no small feat. And yet, that's precisely the emotion she's feeling now. Distressed, along with perplexed and disoriented. One moment, she had been on the palace grounds, about to deck a certain smug prince. Then abruptly, she made a wrong step and fell forward. The fork accompanying the plate of apple pie that was offered to her became lodged into the flesh of her forearm, and then everything distorted.
So now here she is with a bandage wrapped around her forearm, and debt for a vehicle called a "car" that looks like a horseless carriage. At least she managed to get one that looks sturdier than the other offerings, and as a bonus, it's red.
She's looking through the manual provided to her. It doesn't seem too complicated, and yet she's apprehensive. Thankfully, there's another person nearby who doesn't seem to be with the people in the scrapyard.
"Pardon me...but have you ever operated one of these contraptions before?" She gestures to her car.
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Clean up/Powerwashing
With a debt to pay and no access to her family's wealth, Scarlet is forced to get a job. Thankfully, she finds a clothing shop seeking help in washing off the blood and gore from the storefront and surrounding sidewalk area. After seeing the red ballgown she showed up in, they offered to provide her with a shirt and trousers as part of her payment. For the most part, it's going well - she's much stronger than she looks, so when she scrubs, she's able to make an impact on the mess.
The only problem is that the water pump they gave her is...finicky. Sometimes the water temporarily halts and then abruptly spouts out an extra powerful burst. Other times, it sprays at an angle that it shouldn't.
"I wonder what kind of fight took place here?" she muses aloud to herself. "How unfortunate that I missed it."
Unfortunately for the nearest person, her momentary distraction means that she's not aware when the water angles the wrong way and sprays the innocent bystander.
Clean up
As far-reaching as the Golden Threads are, it can be rather difficult to see and know every shop that pops up in Panorama. With the new access to the fine(r) clothes of Acreage and opening up of the sanctuary, Aglaea felt like she was starting to encounter more, nicer clothing available. This particular one is one she had been eyeing for a few days now, and she was eager to feel for herself what sort of fabrics were available to her.
Nothing would ever truly be to Aglaea's taste in Panorama, but we're getting closer!! Aglaea passes by as Scarlet presents her rather bizarre question and statement without flinching because, well, she had her own dark sense of humor. Why should she mind a dark sense of curiosity? But not minding isn't going to save her from the thoughtless angle of a power washer! And for as much as Aglaea can see, she certainly... cannot see the future... She shutters, for once undignified, and holds very, very still as water drips from her nice new outfit.
Oh. 🥺 This is not the wet T-shirt contest a radiant beauty like her deserves.
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clean up
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Grace Ashcroft | Resident Evil Requiem | new!
[You know those days where everything's so weird that anything else that pops up means you can only muster a feeling of, 'yeah this might as well happen'? That's about where Grace is right now.
Exhausted, dirty, and sporting bloody bandages covering a wound across her shoulder/chest, Grace just stares, explanations barely registering. It isn't until she's being ushered out the door and she finds her things with her gun intact that she thinks to start trying to ask something.] W-wait, hey, what's-- Oh.
[Aand they're gone. Okay. Sure. Grace's shoulders slump and she trudges over to the car selections, looking around with a frown before she slumps against a car, scrubbing a hand over her face.] What the fuck? [She says to herself, baffled, but there looks to be someone else around that's probably as new as she is, but maybe they have an answer or three.]
H-hey, um... What-- [She pauses, closes her eyes briefly and swallows hard, trying to steady her voice] What's the city? Um... Is it Wrenwood, or... Raccoon City? [She sounds like she really hopes it's not Raccoon.]
B. Panorama
[There's something depressingly familiar about it all. Grace feels a dull ache in her chest, but the rest of her feels numb as she gingerly picks her way into some broken down shop that clearly saw some bad times during the riots. There's a few bodies still, and Grace watches them warily, gun still in hand.
When she finally feels up to approaching one, she swallows hard and carefully checks limbs and faces, only breathing easily again when the bodies just seem... normal. Dead, of course, but by more normal means.] No signs of infection, that's good... Did a blackout really cause all of this?
[Then again, she supposes groups of people have done worse with less provocation. She crouches there for a moment, thinking, until she hears the tell-tale signs of someone else walking in. She loses her balance, falling to one knee as she half-turns, gun up, eyes wide and wild. Her gun hand tremors a little, but with a harsher grip it steadies] Wh-wh-who's there!?
C. Wildcard
[For anything else!! Grace is from shortly after fainting after watching some security footage which is all I will say to not give out any spoilers. IYKYK. Just let me know if you're cool with spoilers, though I will try to avoid them regardless]
NO... let grace have a good day or else!! (B)
In hind-sight, maybe she should have said something when she came in? Zoey was just rounding the corner of a toppled stack of shelves when she realized, oh there is the girl!
Oh, she has a gun! Very good!
Oh, wait, she has a gun— Zoey's hands flew up, the glitter and gleam of the glowing knives in her hands sparkling out of existence in an instant.]
Whoa— sorry! Are you okay?
idk if she's capable of it but it's valiant to try sob
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B
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b
Tony Stark | MCU | New
[ There’s a sharp inhale before his eyes even open, like his body is trying to come back online before he’s agreed to it. Everything hurts, and not in a way that's easily quantified. Not that any sane person would want to quantify the list of their own injuries. Oh, sure, they're not fresh injuries, but they're still annoying enough that he can't move as easily as he wants and his left arm... Well, yeah. That's a thing. His chest tightens first, reflexively, like he’s expecting the reactor to be compromised. It isn’t, but only because he remembers having to do emergency damage control on the thing. Part of him expected it to not be functioning, though, because wherever the hell this is, it's not home. Maybe it got damaged in the process of being dragged here, or maybe the tech just isn't compatible. But given how he seems to not be in cardiac arrest? He's counting that as a win. ]
Yeah... Okay, great. Not dead.
[ His voice is rough, dragged over gravel, but the sarcasm lands anyway. He keeps his eyes half-lidded at first, letting the shapes come together slowly. The antiseptic smell hits next: it's what anyone would expect from antiseptic. Cold and clinical and just bordering on gross. It's familiar, at least, even if nothing else about this is.
He doesn't get up from the cot but his gaze shifts, taking in the Yom Crook. He tracks their movement without turning his head, buying time, assessing. He makes the fingers on his left hand twitch and move, testing responsiveness, checking for tremor. There's only a slight one, but that's good enough. He’s had worse. ]
You guys always greet people like this, or did I win some kind of concussion lottery?
[ A city on fire because of riots, that's what he gathers from the explanation he gets. It's not his city and not any city he recognizes, but it's not the weirdest thing he’s ever heard of, which is saying something, but Tony's not really saying anything about that. ]
Okay, so let me guess. I fell, blacked out, got abducted by... What, post-apocalyptic roadside assistance? [His eyes flick toward the MedBot, lingering just a second longer before he quips again. ]
You patched me up, didn’t strip me for parts... Not a very pleasant visual considering I'm not made up of parts, not in that sense. Great, very reassuring. So, riots. Supply chain issues. Loan on a car. Did I miss anything else when I was taking notes?
[ He huffs out something that might be a laugh, except there’s no humor in it. ]
I get dragged through a physics-defying nightmare funnel of horrors and I wake up in a recession. So what's the catch? And don't bother telling me there isn't one, because there’s always a catch. And “we’ll come collect in six months” sounds less like customer service and more like a threat with a calendar invite.
And just so we're on the same page, if this thing you’re loaning me breaks down, I’m not great at waiting for roadside assistance. See, I fix things. Why waste time waiting around when I can just jury-rig someone else's junk into something that works? Hopefully this car isn't under warranty, because more than likely, that thing's getting voided to hell. Just saying. Me and warranties shook hands and went our separate ways a long time ago. Don't worry about it.
[ But then, Tony turns away from the weird masked people and gets his first sight of his new ride. ]
Seriously?
[ He circles it once, and then again, and he just stands there staring at it like it's personally offended him, because it has. It very much has. ]
B. Powerwashing
[ The city feels off; it's not that it's too quiet, because there’s too much movement for that, but for Tony, who has the annoying habit of being unable to stop assessing and examining everything all the time (no, he's not a robot), it feels wrong. It feels like everything’s trying to restart at once and none of it is syncing up, and that really bothers his engineering brain.
He walks through it without stopping, taking it in piece by piece: burn marks, broken glass that he tries not to cut himself on because he has no timme for infections... And something tells him medical care around here isn't exactly top tier. ]
So, here we have the unglamorous look at life in Hellish Landscape Alpha 70.245. You won't see this in the travel brochures.
[ His eyes land on the power washer sitting half-abandoned near a storefront. Obviously it's seen better days, given the trailing house and the half-full tank. Hose trailing. It’s still hooked up, like someone was trying to use it but gave up because the thing is just not very good at doing its job anymore. Tony picks it up and tests it to see if it's working. Spoilers: it's not, or not very well, anyway. The spray coming out is weak, uneven, sputtering like it can’t decide if it’s alive or not. ]
Oh, that’s just sad. [ He steps over, crouching beside it without hesitation. His hands hover for a second, not because he doesn’t know what to do, but because there’s a brief, automatic expectation that there should be more: tools, parts, something he can work with. Except there isn't. Figures. ]
Alright, creativity time. Rolling with the punches, that kind of thing. Good thing I'm excellent at this. [ He grips the hose instead, running his fingers along it, checking for kinks. There’s one, easily missed, but it's enough of one that it's jamming up the entire operation. He straightens it out as best as he can, hoping to try his luck. ]
You’re not broken, you’re just very poorly supported, and that is a total travesty.
[ He picks up the nozzle, giving the trigger a careful squeeze. The spray isn't any better than before, and now Tony has officially accepted this as a challenge.
He shifts his grip, trying to force a stronger stream, but either this thing is hosed (haha) or the water pressure around here is garbage. He's betting it's some of column A and some of column B.
But then, to his surprise, a burst of water jets out of the the thing and... It doesn't spray where it's supposed to go. It does a weird flippy bendy thing and Tony ends up being sprayed instead. ]
Oh, okay, you didn't like that, did you? Or... did you like that, but you thought you'd be cheeky? [ He grins and winks at the power washer, like talking to it is business as usual for him. ]
Alright, let's try this again; I think I'm getting what you're saying now. [ He angles it down toward the concrete, keeping the bursts short, not forcing it but more like guiding it. Typical Tony Stark, figuring out how to coax a stubborn power washer into working. Kind of. The water pressure still isn't great, and sometimes nothing comes out at all, but at least he hasn't taken another shower yet.
After awhile of this, Tony just stops paying attention to anything except him, the power washer that's still seen better days, and a very dirty, very gross building.
... No one saw him talking to the power washer like it was an old friend, right? Right. Feel free to poke fun at Tony Stark, billionaire, washing grime off a storefront. Or just stop by to chat and then poke fun. He's actually having a good time with his new best friend, Mrs. Pressure Issues. ]
C. The Sanctum
What, no welcome mat?
[ The Sanctum doesn’t look like a place that even qualifies as welcoming. Maybe it was, once, in another life, in another world far, far away. But now, it's practically screaming go away.
And see, Tony would go away, but his curiosity has already been piqued; one might think that a decaying building isn't exactly that interesting, but Tony is on the hunt for something, and where better to look for someone's long forgotten, discarded items than in an old, potentially abandoned building?
Still, he's getting a weird, unsettling feeling even as he carefully picks his way through the building. ] This feels like somewhere I’d get yelled at for trespassing in about five different languages.
[ Except no one stops him; there's no alarms, no guards... just wind moving through holes in the walls.
What does stop him isn't a "who", it's an "it". A board that had been hanging by a thread decided right now was a good time to loosen itself and fall, and guess who happened to be right in the impact zone?
Oh yes, one Tony Stark, who just so happens to be really missing his suits and the ever reliable JARVIS and heads-up display. Of course, he has none of that right now, so he has no idea what's about to land on him.
And land on him it does, knocking the air out of him in a sharp, involuntary burst as he stumbles forward, catching himself hard against the nearest wall. ]
...ghk. [ It's a very undignified sound, but what other sound would you make when you've just been hit by a falling plank?
Tony tries to recover and brush it off in his usual brisk fashion. ]
What? I knew that was going to happen the whole time. I had that piece of wood clocked ever since I walked in here. Nothing to see here, just me, doing a little routine structural testing.
[ Of course, just as it happened, or maybe even ten to fifteen seconds before, maybe someone entered the building just to see Tony lose a fight with a wooden plank. ]
[ ooc: Tony here is from near the end of Civil War after he gets the letter and phone from Steve Rogers. So he's a bit banged up from an unfortunate thing that happened in Siberia and he's kind of processing a lot of things right now, including being swept off to who knows where. Fun times... not. ]
ᴛʜᴇ sᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴍ;
One thing's for sure: Frank recognizes him, and that's plenty clear in his bemused, disbelieving expression.
On the bright side, it does, at least, cause him to lower and even fully holster the gun he'd been sporting.
One, two seconds of incredulous silence pass before he finally just asks: )
Tony god damn Stark? Seriously?
( Aren't they already full-up on Avengers? He's been working with Clint, Steve, and Bucky these last couple of months. Murdock's been here. The Kid's here now. How many people from their world, exactly, does this place plan on sucking in? )
(no subject)
A-Train/Reggie Franklin | The Boys | New Player
ii. BAD CITY
iii. BAD APARTMENT
IV. BAD TIME
V. WILDCARD
[ ooc: if none of these situations fit you, please let me know if I can bounce anything around! I'm Abbey and I'm always open to talk and figure out some play. ]
bad car! also AHHHHHH hi c:
Eventually, Blah Blah Part is Blah Blah Fixed and she's out 60JL; no I'm sleeping with my mechanic discount available to her today. The drive back is reasonably seamless, up to a point. She sticks in her second favourite cassette tape, turns the volume as loud as it can go, and makes her way straight down the road back to Panorama. And, for twenty-three whole minutes, she hasn't a care in the world.
She sees a stopped car, a waving arm. Eases her vehicle to a stop, a light dust cloud gathering around her tires as unbuckles, drops out from her off-black SUV. (Yes, drops. It is considerably bigger than her. Her feet don't naturally touch the ground from the frame.)
It takes her a moment to place him. It isn't as if she spent a lot of time staring at his face. Once she does, well—
The ringing in her ears has to stop eventually.
Bat-san will help, of course. And that's how she ends up opening the back door, pulling out an off-brand iron Louisville slugger, and just kind of — keeping it in hand.
She knew this day would come, didn't she? This city is hard, but to her, it's been easy. She's been happy, even when she's been miserable. She started to believe what other people were telling her — that Vought and its overreach was far away; that she might have been wrong about people, about powers. Inch by inch, she had tried to let go of home, and halfway degloved herself in the process. Now, she stares down one of Vought's favoured, its diversity darling, and the sourness in her mouth is rancid. She isn't sure, she might have bitten the inside of her cheek.
For obvious reasons, she doesn't speak first.
¹ She didn't do it. Some assholes gunned her down and took it for a joyride, with intent to rob. Most of them are dead now. ]
hiii kimiko! delighted to take a stab at This Man!!! need to make more icons womp womp.
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👀
OH NO NOT THE BOSS
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ʙᴀᴅ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ;
(no subject)
Hughie Campbell || The Boys || New Player
[Hughie’s dealt with the horrors of health insurance enough to know that it’s going to be hard enough to pay back the debt from whatever car-versus-boat-related injuries the strange masked people healed him from, so any form of discount on transportation is welcomed. Then he sees just why they’re so discounted, and…okay, he’s still gonna welcome it, just not nearly as enthusiastically. Without anything to do but accept the keys to a Cimarron that might have been red a few layers of rust ago (it’s not remotely good-looking, but it’s the most intact far as he can tell), Hughie starts the drive towards the smoke plume in the sky the shorter Yom Crook pointed out as the nearest city.
It’s about the same as it ever was for Hughie: different dimension, same long drive from one form of chaos to another. Only this time, he’s completely alone. The thought eats at him without anything else to occupy his mind. He can’t even turn to his usual coping mechanism of playing the same ten comforting songs over and over, since his phone is bricked beyond repair. All there is for what feels like forever is near-deafening silence and endless road.
So Hughie nearly jumps out of his skin when a loud crash followed by the sound of metal skidding on asphalt breaks that silence. Maybe he’s on edge given his last memory of possibly getting into a car accident, but the noise combined with the sudden rush of wind in his face make him instinctually slam on the brakes hard enough to risk a second concussion in one day. Thankfully his seatbelt stays intact unlike the side door of his car.]
Fuck–
[Hughie puts the car in park and looks out the new space only to watch the door continue to skid out a bit close for comfort to a passing stranger. He instinctively flinches at the possibility of causing a wreck and/or accidentally tossing a car door at someone with a panicked yell:]
Sorry!!
PANORAMA: THE GOO…
[Maybe Hughie shouldn’t be surprised that the city is in this level of disrepair. He wasn’t exactly expecting great things here, but the amount of bloodstains to be cleaned up and general near-apocalypse disarray keeps him on edge as he tries to navigate the Panorama. He tries to convince himself to breathe, remember where he’s come from; he’s way more used to blood and other types of fluids than the average man should, after all. He’ll survive.
A block down, however, Hughie has to rethink what sort of strange substances he’s used to. The giant Jello wall is definitely not something he’s seen before. It’s cartoonish in its presence, but like a lot of the types of powers Hughie’s seen in action, it becomes a bit more unsettling when the implications set in. Anybody trapped behind that wall is going to run out of food eventually, right? Do they eat the wall then? What happens after that?
Okay, maybe he’s taking the gelatin threat a bit too seriously, but it’s a threat nonetheless. Plus, his general altruism and current needs happen to line up (possible points for the Panorama compared to New York City) since they’re paying people to help tear this down. Given the choice, Hughie decides to work smarter over harder with a slightly worn-down blowtorch against one specific gelatin-encased area.]
Liquid’s easier to deal with than giant Jello, right? So can probably just get the powerwash and—oh shit—
[Speaking of liquid jello, part of the wall crumbles from the newly-melted space and falls directly onto Hughie. He flinches and covers his face to try and protect himself, but it’s gelatin, so he’s mostly just fifty percent greener than he already is and smells a little mintier. The taste hits his mouth when he tries to smooth some of it off of his face, and he startles at the way his hand trembles unnaturally like he’s made of the same material.]
What the fuck. Is that— [He shakes his hand experimentally and recoils at how wobbly it is.] Am I—Is this made of fucking absinthe or something? This isn’t actually happening.
[Please tell him it’s not happening.]
CHILD’S PLAY
[Yes, in some scenarios following the sound of a singing child is asking for a horror movie death, but it’s also a possibly alone child, so Hughie feels like he should investigate regardless. If he knows anything about this place, it’s that it’s not somewhere that’s safe for children to wander around in. And if he knows anything about himself, it’s that he doesn’t want to become the kind of person who would abandon a child out of paranoia.
The playground he does find is abandoned-looking in itself, like it hasn’t been visited for a long time, but the children playing there don’t seem to mind. At least, they appear to be children. Hughie’s first thought is that something out here might have mutated completely normal children into blobby tentacle creatures, so he approaches mainly with concern when they look at him.]
H-hi there. Are you—where are your parents? [He offers with an awkward wave. God, he never knows how to talk to kids. Technically they’re just smaller people that hopefully have yet to experience how fucked up and confusing the world is in full, right? At least, they shouldn’t have to.
He thinks of Zoe, transformed by her mother’s attempts to keep her safe and now having to grow up somewhere alone and without her. He thinks of being a child waiting for his own mother to come home. Are these kids waiting for someone too? One of the formless children holds up a rock for him as if asking if he wants to play a game with them, and he can’t help accepting it. Taking its hand just seems to amplify that tattered thread of sadness in his chest over children left behind and tie it to the little creature in front of him, like something can be put back together if he makes them happy.]
Aw, thanks. You’re gonna have to show me how to play though, I, uh—I haven’t in a while.
[He’s not sure how many hours pass, but it can’t be that long, if he hasn’t noticed that he’s tired, or that the rain is awfully cold. Well, Hughie does realize when he sneezes and his hand starts to shiver a bit that he really is not built for this weather in the same way the children are.]
Shi—shoot. I should start heading back. My, uh, my house is pretty far away. We can finish up hopscotch tomorrow—
[Their formless faces somehow look incredibly sad to him, and the idea of leaving them all alone pulls on those threads of guilt enough that Hughie sighs and gives in, putting on a mild strict tone so it doesn’t seem entirely like he’s caving.]
Okay. Just until your parents get back, deal?
[How many times has he said that? It can’t be that many if he isn’t keeping track, right?]
WILDCARD
[Nothing look good? Feel free to come at me with anything! Hughie’s a well intentioned guy that can be lead into helping out and also a magnet for chaos so he can easily get dragged in a less friendly way into chaos.]
wildcard!!!
It's the first red light on the way back to Hughie's motel room when things start to go awry. Traffic is congested enough that men and women can wander safely between the cars and over the median strip. A tall man, his cheeks characterised by sharp, gaunt edges and a sheet of acne scars, smiles, showing teeth, and taps on the passenger's side window with the muzzle of a pistol. His finger lays sedately over the trigger.
Through the window, his voice is muffled. His accent is vaguely reminiscent of Butcher's. "Got a moment to talk? Need to tell you about my charity organisation."
Over the steering wheel, Kimiko turns her hands over. Saying without saying — it's Hughie's choice. Until the light turns, they're not going anywhere. ]