SEAS THE DAY

[maskormods]

T E S T D R I V E M E M E

Considering apping into MASK OR MENACE? Want to dip your toes into the setting and get a feel of whether your character will fit into it? Or maybe you're just cruising and want to play around? Then you've come to the right place!

Pick any of the following scenarios below or feel free to make up your own, but don't be afraid to throw yourself at someone else's thread, either!

And remember there's only one rule in Test Drive Meme Club: HAVE FUN ON THE TEST DRIVE MEME!

01.The city of Heropa is what one might expect from a small, bright and cheery place, where locals are friendly enough and local shop owners might offer a free drink to welcome you to their fair city.

Local residents are celebrating summer in full swing at the first-ever Chug Fest. On this sweltering June day, locals are gathered in the largest park downtown, where purveyors of craft sodas, homemade iced teas, astisanal milkshakes and (in the roped-off 21+ section) micro breweries are sharing their finest beverages. Why not quench your thirst, and buy some tasty treats from various food trucks to wash down?

There's just one problem—the tech-based super (...ish) villain team known as The Locksmiths have caused all bathroom ad port-a-john doors to be unopenable, and they're demanding one million dollars in cash before they'll reverse their evil deed! To maintain the anti-unlock field, they're circulating in the crowd, disguised as normal patrons. Do you seek them out to give people some relief, or are you too busy doing a little dance yourself?

02. De Chima, Virginia, is a large city with a healthy economy, with large numbers of citizens waiting to be awed by your very presence. Look at you! Organic wonder! Synthetic wonder! Whatever you might be, those words have meaning here. Science and technology are the lifeblood of this city, so you're likely to come across a good many locals taking your picture with the newest of devices or recently published PLoS papers. The imPort craze remains high here, and you may find yourself cornered by overzealous imPort fans, media wannabes and opportunists alike, shoving cameras in your face. If you let yourself get cornered, beware! Anything from personal questions about romantic chances to bedroom habits to dietary queries might be come up! Just be careful about insinuating anything about yourself and the De Chima Ambassador, Baal. A little innuendo will go a long, hard way.

De Chima is a city all about REMAKING YOURSELF. Sometimes it's about remaking a look, or an aesthetic. As part of a promotion for a new FABULOUS television show, one imPort will be giving another imPort a MAKEOVER. So step right up with your imPort victim/volunteer! You have a seemingly endless wardrobe to work with, a pair of scissors, and a Stephora make-up artist on hand. This is a chance for imPorts to redesign their fellow imPort's look to however they'd want it -- just be sure to clarify if you're the heroic SUBJECT to be makeover'd or the fabulous EXPERT who's doing the making over! And remember, it's all being filmed.

03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania has carried a reputation for ups and downs ever since imPorts began reappearing again, just those few years prior. Several imPort heroes have put focused efforts into cleaning up the streets of this somewhat infamous city, while a handful of others had swooped in to help the criminal industry thrive. More so here than the streets of any other imPort city, the battle between good and evil looks more like a war of escalation than a heroic tale, even with Ambassador Padme and imPort Mayor Baelish gracing the headlines. Everything from the classic bank heist to brutal bloodbaths can happen around the corner. You have to keep your eyes open and your mind sharp when you live in Maurtia Falls, and hostility against imPorts can spike. The emergence of locals with superpowers is hardly helping... #THANKS TONY STARK, #ya muffin.

In an effort to bring in more tourism to the Falls, a public works project focusing on the canal system has been recently finished! This includes a series of tours through the town, and has brought a new wave of guarded hope to nearby shopkeeps. So far, everything seems to be going as planned, and one can enjoy a nice boat ride down the canal with little issue! Maybe enjoy the nice breeze and bright sunshine, in a town that usually has frequent cloudy skies!

Or maybe, despite the carefulness of the Maurtia Falls Canal Corporation, there's a few snags along the way. As with all new programs, there's bound to be a few loose ends— ranging from boat trouble and a low-stakes rescue needing to be staged to get all passengers on dry land once again, all the way to a careless parent not watching as their child falls into the water below.

04. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities; loud, busy and there's always some kind of energy in the air that gets everyone buzzing with excitement.

A few night clubs offer free entrance - just this once! And they are bound to notice that a man has taken up a spot in a local street, eating pancakes off of a fold out table and holding up traffic. Many people are taking pictures and more interested in whether or not this is performance art than ushering him out of the way. He does have an extra chair and table, however, and will welcome and feed company, especially imPorts.

Comments

Takara Hurst | Daughter of Anubis | Scion OC

[anubitch]

02. Subject...

She doesn't know how she got here. In fact, she's rather annoyed to be here, in the first place. A very worried looking native had grabbed her arm and pleaded for help, so Takara - as one does - agreed to help. And then found herself here, staring down a wardrobe bigger than any she had seen in her life, glaring at all of it.

"What sort of help were you looking for exa--" She starts, speaking to the native woman. Or. She had thought she was speaking to the native woman. Instead, she's staring at whatever poor imPort has been chosen to give this unwitting Scion a make-over.

"What--?"


03.

She wasn't interested in taking a boat ride herself, but she couldn't help but watch them go by as she walked along the bank. It was quiet, and decent. Or, at least, it was. Then there was a sudden cry, and a splash, as a child fell into the water. Without even thinking about it, Takara took off - her inhuman speed causing her feet to hit the water without even sinking into it - running on it like if Jesus was really late to a meeting. Her hand darted down in the water as she got close, pulling the kid right out of the water - and she didn't stop running.

By the time she got to the bank, she was holding a kid up by his ankle, as if he weighed no more than a couple of grapes, and there was a shrill voice from down the canal screaming: "She stole my baby!!"

Shit.


04.

The gathering crowd around the street artist at least offers her a chance she hasn't found all day - a group of people more or less forced to acknowledge her when she asks them questions. So she's going around to each of them, with a very serious look on her face, and asking:

"I'm looking for my friends. They'll be imPorts, too, have you - - No, don't you walk away from m-- God damn it."


wildcard her

02 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DaXJmo9cro

[smugler]

Lando, meanwhile, was loving the position he had been put in, to define the style of so many beautiful imPorts. He stood before his newest canvas, dressed all in red, a white satin cape matching his shoes draped over his shoulders. He hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin.

"Hm. Got a lot of good to start with. Great skin. Great hair. But the clothes need work, for sure."

If she didn't stop him, he would start approaching her with a tape measure in his hands, aiming to get all up close to get her measurements.

Zack Fair | Final Fantasy 7

[freedomissteep]

De Chima

[The stylists take one look at the magnificent black mane on top of Zack's head and he has no chance, roped into becoming their guinnea pig despite his efforts at protestation. Are you an onlooker? Or maybe one of his cruel torturers.]

Hold on a second...! N-Not the hair!

Maurtia Falls

[Zack taps his foot against the floor of the boat, arms crossed, bored and hoping for some action. Instead, he's got screaming kids and tired parents day drinking at the boat's overpriced bar. He huffs, blowing a thick lock of hair out of his face until he's rocked by the sudden stop of the boat. He wonders if they maybe hit something, peeking forward curiously with the others when... a huge octopus wraps it's tentacles around the bow of the boat and lurches it's way onto the deck. He reaches for his sword, but suddenly remembers being asked to leave it at the ticket counter to make the other passangers more comfortable. Looking around, his eyes sparkle...]

When in doubt? Improvise! [He grabs an oar from one of the emergency rafts and wields it like a makeshift buster sword.] Come on!

Nonah

No way... this looks like a job... for SOLDIER!

[Zack stomps up to the pancake eating offender and draws his sword, gripping it tightly with both hands... and sets it aside, taking a seat across from him. He grabs a knife and fork and pounds it on the tabletop, prepared to do his very best to beat this criminal at his own game. He'll show him the stomach of a true hero!!!]

Wildcard

[GIMME WHATEVER U GOT or hit me up on BATGUY]

De Chima

[flyingfrigates]

[Zarina has already dealt with more than enough changes, thank you. She remade herself into a capable pirate captain even at only a few inches tall, and now she's the size of a human and still getting used to it. The dyes and colors are calling to her. The opportunity to change someone else's looks sounds fun, especially when she can add in a little bit of pixie dust to add some fun.]

It's not a big deal, is it? It'll just be temporary. Think of all the different ways you could mix these.

[Experimenting on someone else is just as great as experimenting on herself.]

Korg | Thor: Ragnarok (MCU)

[revolutionrocks]

01. Heropa; Chug Fest

[While unusual-looking imPorts are certainly not an unusual occurrence, an 8' tall 2045lb rock creature might be a little stranger than most. Despite his imposing appearance, he's not acting particularly threatening at the moment, simply mingling with the crowd (although the humans do give him some room) in the vicinity of the various food trucks, inquiring after tasty treats of a different variety, his lilting, polite voice somewhat incongruous with the rest of him.]

Hey, you think I could get a drink of lava here? Maybe a little grilled shale or coal bites?

[Unopenable port-a-john doors? Not a problem—provided the electronically controlled mechanism will open after the lock's been smashed by a punch from a big rock fist.]

Need a little help there, bro?

02. De Chima; Makeovers

[Having spent his entire life (up until now) resembling a pile of talking rocks, suddenly having a human form is a little bewildering, dressing it especially. Somehow a leather loincloth/shorts and a battle harness seem like overkill now, go figure. Unable to resist the makeover offers, Korg finds himself with a variety of new outfits, although there does seem to be something of a theme. For those who know him, he might look very different now, but his voice is still the same.]

Are these... plants? They look like plants.

03. Maurtia Falls; Canal Ride

[The advertisement said one can enjoy a nice boat ride down the canal with little issue! Well, almost no issues, in that the boats probably weren't meant to accommodate 2045lb rock people, given that the vessel Korg steps into promptly sinks. At least this part of the canal isn't too deep? Small favors. He looks apologetically at his fellow (now rather wet) passengers.]

Oops. Sorry everyone.

De Chima

[consulinchief]

[Roland had been spending the last several minutes diplomatically declining the offer for a makeover from a producer who simply wasn't taking no for an answer, so any kind of distraction was welcome. Facing he speaker, he blinks. That's a... colorful combination.]

On your shirt? Those are fruit called pineapples.

Fushi || To your eternity

[fushimi]

01. [WHITE WOLF] Wildcard
[ a white wolf walks around the park, seemingly lost as gold eyes look at the people, the animals, even the trees. The many smells this world has to offer are strange and unfamiliar, and even sounds are far too strange to be recognized. Everything is different, and the people are different. Gugu isn't here. Neither is Pyoran or the old man that smells too strongly of alcohol. The girl that makes Gugu's face twist in a strange sadness isn't there either, and the strange cloaked man hasn't shown up to speak in strange words and riddles.

There is a sense of uneasiness about it. Not having familiar faces, faces that became a daily vision, their voices, their lives... that feeling is similar to when March was gone. Similar to when the Boy was gone.

The white wolf doesn't know what to call it.

"See you. Want to see you. Again."

The white wolf sits down and waits. They aren't gone to the Hollowness, to "Death", because the white wolf can't turn into them, so maybe they are here. Waiting is alright. There is so much time left. After all, the white wolf is immortal. ]

PUPPY!!!

[ a white wolf walking around the park is an easy thing to spot, and naturally children start gathering around. With no fear at all, a little girl comes close, to reach for it and pet it but before her tiny hand reached the white fur, the white wolf stares at her intently. ]

March. [ the child stops. Did the wolf just speak? Well, yes, indeed. In fact, the white wolf will repeat: ] March. March. [ immediately comes closer, wet nose pressing against the girl's stomach. ] March. [ and then the girl screams. Apparently a talking wolf is too scary, and she is now crying while she runs away. The wolf is left tilting its head ]

Not March...



02. [THE BOY] Wildcard
[ a white haired boy walks around the city, seemingly lost as gold eyes look at the people, the animals, the buildings, the cars. There is too much of everything for him to focus on, but the Boy continues to walk. He found out that walking around as a human will faster get him food than as a dog, because the moment someone saw his arm, they were so excited that they gave him cookies and then pointed a strange box at him and said something about a selfie.

With cookies in his hands, the boy eats them with delight but they are too dry, honestly. He likes fruit better, and that's why when he stops at a small grocery store, he is quick to grab a mango and take a huge bite out of it. The owner of the shop comes out, an angry expression on his face, hands on his hips ]

What do you think you are doing?! You better pay for that!

[ the boy does what seems logical to him. He shows the man his glowing tattoo, expecting things to go smoothly. Show the tattoo, get food, that's how things supposedly work in his mind. But it's not how they really work. ]

I don't care if you are an imPort!! It's not for free, you have to pay!!

[ that doesn't make sense. Why can he get cookies by showing his glowing arm, but not fruit? ] Pay- money? [ he knows of that at least, so he reaches out his hand, and from it some sort of coins are formed. They are weird looking, though, not at all like the american dollar ]

What is even that?! I want real money, or I'm calling the cops, you thief!!

[ that doesn't make sense at all! ]

Edna Mode | The Incredibles

[enmode]

[De Chima]

"No no no, absolutely not, get that hideous thing out of this space, it's mere existence is highly offensive!"

Edna trots through the bustling makeover space, trailed by several crew who, somehow, have fallen into line behind the imPort and are trying to help as she works her magic. The most recent staffer shrinks back with a pair of apparently offensive pants, and rushes to get them out of the small and formidable woman's way.

"Alright, who is next, we always have much to do and never enough time, come come come--" she flicks her hand as she bustles up to her next challenge, indicating they should come closer as she approaches. It's probably not safe to show fear in front of Edna Mode.

[pawimprinting]

Seyn wasn't that surprised by the stylists and hairdressers and clothing designers lined up to help imPorts with these makeovers. She's used to the makeup and prep that goes into a good screen worthy fight. She didn't expect the tiny little woman commanding the people around her like they're servants or extensions of her own body. She's watching her work in fascination and awe, because it's like magic and terror at the same time.

"Oh, ah, me?" She says, startled. "I wasn't really planning on--"

Roland Crane | Ni no Kuni II

[consulinchief]

02a. De Chima
[Roland doesn't mind the crowds. He knows that he stands out with his large blue guard's coat and hairstyle that doesn't quite match this era. Rather than run as the crowds get too large, he embraces them, replying to any questions he's okay with, and deflecting the too personal ones with the ease of someone who's had a good deal of practice with the subject. Whenever he's had enough, he simply smiles wider and politely yet firmly extricates himself from the situation. Turning a corner away from the latest group, he visibly relaxes.]

Phew... Is it always like this?


02b. De Chima
[After being approached by one of the producer's for the makeover show about participating, Roland's initially at least feigning interest. While he doesn't think he needs fashion advice per se, a part of him feels that it couldn't hurt to learn a bit more about how someone his perceived age should dress.

And then they mention that he should cut his ponytail.]

I'm afraid I must refuse that request.


04. Nonah
[Roland had heard rumors of the mystery diner on social media, but he hadn't meant to seek him out--chance just happens to bring the man to that very street. Seeing the spectacle up close, curiosity gets the better of him and he approaches the table.]

Excuse me? May I ask why you're impeding traffic to eat... pancakes?

2b

[rexabcrystallo]

[ Nearby, another man is doing his best to talk his way out of a makeover, though he looks like he might need it a little more. He looks like he's been wearing the same clothes for ten years, somehow, and probably hasn't had a haircut in just as long.

Seeing someone to commiserate with, he gives Roland a sheepish smile. ]

Feeling attached?

[mercurio]

HEROPA

[he is not. going to. make. it.]

[prompto looks agonized, taking deep breaths, eyes closed, and keeping slightly hunched over with his hands over his thighs. he is before the locked portable toilets, trying really hard to not think about why he's standing here in the first place.]

You ever wonder what your last moments are gonna feel like? 'cuz I'm feeling something.

[a whine escapes him as he straightens, rocking on his feet in obvious discomfort.]

It doesn't feel good.

[days without end on the road, and he's still a proper city boy who can't imagine himself peeing if it isn't on a toilet proper. he dies today.]

MAURTIA FALLS

[suddenly, he's got an oar in his hands]

Wait, what exactly am I doing...?

[all the boats he ever been on have been mechanical.]

Row! The motor's bust so we need help.

[prompto stares at the individual who handed him the oar and then at his hands, staring at this like it's some weird contraption. he looks about, sees some people helping out in the same department, and shrugs.]

I mean, whatever gets us out of here, I guess.

[one determined step forward, and prompto's really feeling this: helping people out, it's such a good thing to do. even if there's no compensation for his help, it's the experience what matters most! a second determined step forward, and he disappears from sight.]

[thud]

[someone underestimated how wet and slippery the floor of the boat was.]

Uhhh?!

NONAH

[prompto never says no to free food.]

So, [shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, chewing as he slathers the bunch on his plate with more syrup] is this an ever'day thing?

[he stops and poses for a picture, peace sign and all, before he continues]

You got some whipped cream?

[slow down or you'll choke buddy]

SHITPOST

i have a serious question:
has anyone else heard about chocobos or am i the luckiest guy in the world to know of them

WILDCARD
fight him

heropa

[rexabcrystallo]

[ Noctis would have just shook his head at the lines, he is not too big a king to pee in the woods, but a familiar shock of blond hair caught his eye. He ends up frozen in his tracks a moment, waiting for his head to catch up.

He doesn't look like he's aged a day.

How can Noctis possibly play this cool? He's tempted to just throw himself at his best friend in the biggest hug he can manage, but that's probably not a great idea in these particular circumstances. He hopes he'll think of something to say as he approaches, but whatever he says, it'll be with the biggest, dumbest grin. ]

That's too bad. Sounds like it'd be an awful way to go.

Damien LaVey | Monster Prom

[fuckhammer]

i. heropa

[ Chilling in bathrooms is kind of Damien's thing, especially when he's not preoccupied killing the shit out of people with dope knives or, like, setting things on fire to combat the crushing lameness of things not being set on fire. When he heads to one of Heropa's public bathrooms with a chisel and the intention to permanently graffiti something disgusting into the wall, he's personally affronted when the door won't open.

It doesn't take long for him to assess the situation, realize what's going on, and beat the shit out of one of The Locksmiths.

There's a blizzard of screaming, only some of it coming from him, and then the hard crunch of fists on faces cutting through so much laughter. He's sitting on some poor supervillain's chest and just wailing on him, yelling things like I DON'T KNOW WHAT IRONY IS BUT I THINK IF I SET YOU ON FIRE THEN PISSED OUT THE FLAMES IT MIGHT BE THAT as well as various gratuitously explicit threats said with equally gratuitously explicit language. His hand's starting to get tired when you come along. ]

-- Oh, hey. [ He lets go of The Locksmith's shirt (wait, is this guy even a Locksmith or is he just the first dude Damien saw in the crowd?), letting him flop uselessly against the concrete. ] Listen, unless you're gonna pull up a fist and help me out here, I'm kinda busy. What d'you want?

ii. de chima

[ These people have no fucking idea what they're doing. Frosted tips? In 2018? No, that fad's corpse doesn't need to be unearthed. Gel? Some of these imports are using gel. Why? There's no ferocity in gel, no beast to be Werked. There's nothing in gel except for toxic shit that can't be ingested and the sad, stale reminder of basically any male actor cast in any first season of an early-2000s teen drama. The next import he sees trying to put gel in someone else's hair gets a nostril full of mousse and a set of curlers dug into their eye.

He doesn't give a shit about the show they're advertising. The only show Damien gives a shit about is BooPaul's Drag Race. ]

Sit the fuck down! Are you ready to look like a motherfucking warrior princess?! [ Damien's hands are on your shoulders, all but throwing you into the makeover chair. ] Look at your face. Fucking garbage, honestly. You're going to walk out of here with lashes for days. They say the higher the hair, the closer to God, but GOD IS WORTHLESS AND DEAD. I SAY THE HIGHER THE HAIR, THE CLOSER TO BEING ABLE TO LOOK AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR AND REVEL IN ALL THE SELF-CONFIDENCE AND FREEDOM BORN FROM EMBRACING YOUR INNER QUEEN AND ALL HER BEAUTY.

[ he needs to calm down. in the words of miss latrice royale: 5 G's. but he's here and he's ready to crush the shit out of your inhibitions. get ready to be beautiful. ]

iii. wildcard

[ or anything else. damien's probably setting something on fire in maurtia falls, sending long, poetic sexts to people at random on the network in which he alternates between being romantic and bragging about his dick that can transform into nine different forms (two of which are for killing) or else looking around various markets for ceremonial daggers to steal. great ]

ii

[thaumaturging]

[ Anakis does NOT appreciate the staffer who roped her into this gig, saying something about how "cute" it was that she and the makeover-er are the same species. She even less appreciates being manhandled into the chair by the (apparent) tiefling in question. ]

You cut me with those scissors and I'm setting you on fire.

James Howlett | Logan

[knewaguy]

Heropa

[Behind the strung up dividers, Logan (or James if you're reading off the same file folder he is,) is flipping through his processing papers with a bottle or six of home brewed hipster trash in arm's reach. Doesn't matter if it tastes like swill, it's doing it's job and he keeps chugging it back despite a hoarse cough between bottles. He hates that he gets about one page in to the folder before he's rummaging through his pocket for a pair of reading glasses to perch on his nose to carry on.

Maybe you catch him mid-review or stop to help him when he drops those frames to the grass beside the picnic bench he's sat down at, finding yourself obliged to save a stiff old man from bending down. If you don't, maybe he's snapping his fingers at you with a gruff line between his brows as he gestures to his glasses resting against the toe of your shoe.]

Eh, you mind?

De Chima

[Yeah, this is all sweet and nice; gaggles of giddy idiots are getting their hair done and their lashes glued on, right by the curb's edge on the street. A busy fucking street, even if it's shut off for a street party with ring lights and boom mics in everybody's way and barely a sliver of side walk to be trodden on. And even then it puts passers-by in the dangerous predicament of being pecked at by vultures who want to lure them in for make-overs and a face full of powder.

Logan's figure, despite its age, still harbors a formidable silhouette and the ghosting of blood under his fingernails helps. He's got a short fuse for today and a folder under one arm, vague description of a bar down the street the only reason he's trying to pace by this shit show. Somebody has the gall to tug on his sleeve and he stops, mid stride, only to wrech away his arm and cock his head to the side.]

Don't fucking touch me, bub.

Re: James Howlett | Logan

[kidpocalypse]

[Evan's just getting his bearings, rubbing the back of his neck like he might be able to feel the barcode they apparently put on him. And it's not that he's trying to snoop--he was just heading for the bathroom when he happens to glance into one of the cubicles.

There are some people he'll always know when he sees them, no matter the circumstances. And one of them is--]

Professor Logan?

[He's wide-eyed, breathless at that moment of recognition. Alive, alive, he's alive--]

I didn't know you wore glasses.

connor ( detroit: become human )

[determinans]

( DE CHIMA )

[ it's the summer and this guy's in a full suit and tie with no trace of sweat anywhere and not a single hair out of place. his jacket might make it apparent why, though, given the model number on the breast, and 'ANDROID' embroidered in stark white across his upper back. the small circular LED on his right temple might also be a bit of a giveaway. it's mostly blue, but as he gently tries to fend off the interested natives and reporters, it occasionally flickers yellow or even red the pushier they get.

he's starting to look faintly bewildered by the range of strange questions, in fact, as well as the interest. he's not exactly accustomed to it. back home, androids have been a part of daily human life for decades now, and it's.. strange to have humans this excited about him. particularly considering what's been happening back home. ]

No, [ he finds himself answering, beginning to run simulations for the best way to extract himself at the same time. ] I have no sexual preferences, they're only a tertiary part of my programming. I think you're looking for one of the HR400 or WR400 models.

( DE CHIMA )

[ connor certainly wasn't expecting to be dragged into what appears to be a-- makeover? but here he is anyway, seated in a chair and blinking mildly at the import who's apparently meant to be making him over. his LED is blinking yellow as he processes the items on display, but then his lips quirk up gently. ]

I don't think this is necessary, but thank you. [ he tilts his head, and a smattering of freckles appears across the bridge of his nose. a moment later, and his hair bleeds through blond, then returns to his usual brown. ] Most newer models have the capability to change certain details of our appearance.

( NETWORK )

If I may, I'd like to ask a question of the other AIs located here, or of humans and other organic lifeforms that are familiar with AI. Most that have access to the network are imPorts, are you not? How did or does your reality deal with deviancy in artificial life?

Thank you.

de chima

[mercurio]

[prompto's just minding his business, trying to not get caught up in the frenzy of people asking him questions. it's easy to avoid answering if you know what to say or how to act, but he's caught in staring at this one guy who seems all too well-pressed for the situation. having ANDROID written on his jacket is somewhat... jarring, to say the least, and this is why prompto is just curiously staring at the interaction.]

[that LED on his right temple sure is reacting to the questions as if processing information.]

[he doesn't know if he sees discomfort on the other's face (not likely) or if he's just projecting, but prompto calmly raises his hand to make room for himself and places it on connor's shoulder.]

Hey! There you are! We need to get going, yeah? We're running kinda late.

[being an awkward young adult, prompto (is most definitely projecting) figures he wouldn't like being asked these questions, android or not.]

Katie "Pidge" Holt | Voltron Legendary Defender

[pidgewidgeon]

[01 Heropa]

This was really the last place Pidge had expected to find herself, but here she was. Witnessing a super villain group hold bathrooms hostage. Seriously, why? And who came up with the idea? A child?

So Pidge had made herself at home sitting outside a nearby cafe, drink and laptop in front of her, Green curled up under the cable. If one was able to ignore the large mechanical lion under the table long enough to look at her computer screen they'd see her absentmindedly working to hack... whatever the villains had done.

Keeping people locked out of bathrooms was just rude, so she'd fix it if she could. And if she kept the code for her own purposes, well no one had to know. Locking Lance away from his skin care products would make for an amusing morning.

[04 Nonah]

Pidge was never one to turn away food, especially pancakes, and had plopped herself down across from the man and dug into the food.

"Oh quiznak. These are amazing." Food goo, even Hunk's food goo, didn't hold a candle to well made pancakes. And these were definitely well made.


[Wildcard! Pidge is wandering around with a green robot lioness of proper lioness size. Enjoy!]

nonah

[legionnaires]

"You don't even know what's in them." Keith crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing the pancakes suspiciously.

Pidge was the smart one of the team. Why she would risk herself to eat pancakes from a stranger was beyond him.

"He could be trying to kill you."

Eridan Ampora ♒ Homestuck

[unconchonable]

01; To Peepee Dance With Dignity

[Sure, Earth is like, ok or something, now that Eridan's gotten a bit more used to it. Still lame as hell in comparison to Alternia, but he's learned to suffer his stay here with a bit more dignity than screeching like a narcissist that's broken a nail. Now he just takes his annoyance out in more dignified ways. Like, you know, with fights, name calling, and so forth. Flaunting his station, even if it means fuckall in this place, and being an otherwise snooty douchelord.

However, even if he wants to act and believe that everyone on this dirtyball of a planet is below him, it certainly does nothing to slow him down from going to their little festivals. Nor does it stop him from (attempting) socializing. In fact, he might even claim to be having a good time! That is until his binge of sweet beverages go straight to his bladder. Good thing he doesn't pay attention to his surroundings, otherwise he might realize something was going on with the bathrooms, instead he's left clueless and pissed!

Color him surprised when every single one he tries is locked or inaccessible. Animalistic desperation takes hold, and Eridan finds himself pushing past people as tries not to peepee dance his way to each johnny on the spot, honeypot, and port-a-potty around.]

What the FUCK!?

[He's swearing as he makes his way to the next, pushing past anyone who might be a centimeter too far in his way. Kicking at the door with obvious purpose, he continues:]

Is this some sorta human joke? Ha. ha. You worthless sacks of red swill, THIS AIN'T FUNNY!

[The way his voice shakes and cracks bespeaks his desperation even more than his kicking, and attempt to rip the door off its hinges. If he went after finding the culprits behind this with the same vigor he's putting into breaking the door down, maybe he'd single handedly solve the issue! But as always, Eridan's energy and efforts are misspent.]

03; Sympathy? Is that a disease?

[Boat ride? Hell yeah Eridan will get himself onto a boat!

The hostile environment of the city doesn't bother him in the slightest, really. Alternia was much the same, death was commonplace, and so the idea that a heist or bloodshed could happen at the drop of a hat, well... let's just say that Eridan always expects that outcome. Welcomes it, really. Nothing says home sweet home like the smell of blood and the cries of the dying.

However, as much as he'd find that all enjoyable, and a great way to pass the time, the boat wasn't a bad alternative. He's made for the sea—and while the canals are far from the ocean, it... works. Sorta. Either way, he's enjoying himself, even if he's surrounded by a bunch of pink skinned, hornless apes, and their screaming offspring. Ok, he could do without the latter, but whatever.

A good number of these adult humans are proving to be as attentive of their children as trolls are, that is to say, not at all. A particularly obnoxious little kid seems to have ran away from his mother, and wouldn't you know it? Kids lack coordination! With a particularly damning rock of the boat as it travels through the canals, the child slips under the railing and overboard.

Right. Next. To. Eridan.

And he does nothing, just watches as it happens, taking a sip of his drink. Like the child was nothing more than a piece of trash falling into the water. Actually, he'd care more about litter falling into the depths, than the child. Can't go littering the waterways, ok??

Letting out a snort, he elbows the person next to him.]

Good riddance to that obnoxious wiggler, right?

[This is said without a shred of guilt or sympathy for the child or his mother, who is presently WAILING for someone to save her boy. Needless to say, that will not be Eridan.]

even if i don't play kanaya anymore i've gotta be here for this

[rexabcrystallo]

[ Noctis hasn't gotten quite used to other imPorts yet, so many of them are just really weird. Like this small one sitting next to him who he can't decide is a daemon or not. He looks like he could be? Not quite ugly enough for a goblin, but maybe there are non-ugly variants he just hasn't seen yet.

He's not going to attack, bu he's been eyeing him suspiciously the whole boat ride. And now? Man, what the heck, dude. ]

Come on! What is wrong with you?!

[ He materializes a sword out of nowhere, but instead of swinging it towards Eridan, he throws it at the struggling kid, suddenly disappearing from the boat and himself materializing at the handle of his thrown sword. Scooping up the kid and swimming back is a lot easier from there. ]

Eddison "Dolorous Edd" Tollett | Game of Thrones

[secondplacescrow]

WHEREVER. PICK A CITY.

Here comes a familiar sad sack, who definitely seen this thing before. He never thought he'd say this but he's a little disappointed. He thought he was done with this world - or this world was done with him. But here he is, with his stupid little useless bird - a raven that can see the future and can talk about it.

Sort of.

So now Edd is just sort of everywhere. He doesn't want to go to his old apartment again, with the angry ginger. He probably threw away Edd's old things. Might be for the best, it's not like Edd had anything worth remembering or caring about.

jim holden | the expanse

[dealign]

HEROPA

( holden is worried and he's freaked out — but while being back on earth is worrisome mainly because he has no idea how this happened despite all the explanations, because he doesn't know where his crew is, if they're all right, what's happening back home, it fades the moment he spots a coffee shop.

catch him walk into the store and just stop to inhale deeply, eyes closed. does he look like a man having a religious experience or a minor orgasm already? just wait until he's ordered the largest cup of coffee available at this store, hands wrapped around it and an expression of bliss on his face. )

NONAH

( holden isn't actually interested in clubbing. a few drinks, maybe, but he'd prefer having those drinks knowing that his crew is safe. maybe have those drinks with his crew, except amos probably would've wandered right off the second they docked somewhere for his usual space station entertainment programme.

is this shore leave? hardly.

at any rate, holden is here. he's in front of the man eating pancakes, brows drawn together like he's thinking long and hard about something. after a moment: ) Are those made with real milk?

WILDCARD

( wanna ignore those quality food-based and not at all ridiculous prompts up there and go for something else entirely? hmu! )

NETWORK (un:roci)

My name is James Holden, captain of the Rocinante. Does anyone know how I get back to my ship and my crew?

( shit is going down back home; he can't leave them alone. and hey, it's worth a shot. who knows what he isn't being told. )

Heropa

[killtime]

[ Andy is just trying to get a little caffeine in her to drive her hangover back — if that wasn't obvious by the fact that she's wearing sunglasses indoors and her clothes are creased as if she slept in them. It's not exactly a classy look, but when you've lived several centuries, you sort of stop giving a shit. And she usually makes a point of not giving a shit, especially not about strangers, but there's a man standing there with a particular expression on his face and she's not sure if he's having a minor orgasm or a stroke.

It's not really her business either way, but. ]

...What, you never had a cup of coffee before?

thor | mcu

[sparke]

001 🌩 HEROPA: CRAFT BEER

( this place is not quite the midgard he knows, but it is undeniably midgardian in nature. the food trucks remind him of new york, the craft beer does, too. he's glad to have found both because a stomach full of food and ale makes the world a better place.

he could stand for the world being a better place right now, for all that he's trying hard not to let it show. he's smiling wide whenever he thinks anyone might be looking, gorging himself on food, pouring drink down his throat. despite the dark hollow where one eye should be and the short hair, the width and bulk of him, the smile keeps him from being too imposing a figure. )

This drink. ( he points to one of the craft beers still lined up in front of him. ) I like it.

002 🌩 HEROPA: VILLAINOUS

( with as much craft beer as thor has poured down his throat —it helped a little bit— it's a miracle he didn't need to go to the loo sooner. his time has come now, though, and when he attempts to open the door to one of the bathroom stalls, it won't open. try as he might, even with all his strength, he can bend the door but he cannot get it to open. the same holds for the next door, and the one after that. )

What treacherous magic is this? ( strangely enough, despite the loud grumbling of his tone, he doesn't sound too upset. if anything, he sounds —hopeful? ) Loki. Is that you behind all this?

003 🌩 NETWORK (id: thunder)

hello.

004 🌩 WILDCARD

( come at me )

id: lokton

[mercurio]

hello! what's good

Noctis Lucis Caelum | Final Fantasy XV

[rexabcrystallo]

De Chima

It's hard to be a king when you look like a hobo. After spending ten years having a big nap in a rock, Noctis' appearance has gotten away from him a little, and everyone he runs into here seems to have an opinion about it. Maybe he's outgrown his outfit a little, but these were designer duds in their day! With his black battle capris and black combat boots, the black t-shirt with black skulls all over it and short-sleeved black jacket, a goth prince of Gothland couldn't ask for better activewear.

But maybe it is time to dress more like a king, so he reluctantly acquiesces to the demands of the throng. Maybe it is time for a makeover. Or maybe this will be the greatest mistake of his life. Either way, he certainly won't go down without a fight.

"Can we get this in black instead?"

"I like my hair this length, thanks."

"You're not touching the beard!"

Will you come to the king's aid, or contribute further to his plight?

Or, wildcard me

[vanto]

Eli was an expert in getting out of weird situations like this. After his arrival and subsequent singing humiliation, he'd developed a sixth sense that guided him. It seemed like this new imPort hadn't yet learned how to avoid pushy people who had ideas.

... Personally, Eli thought a good hair trim might benefit Noctis. (Not that he was one to talk, with his hair that had a permanent 'just got out of bed' look to it. Yes, even after vigorously brushing it.)

"It's alright-" Eli intercedes between Noctis and a very invested native brandishing a pair of scissors. "We're just looking for a style that suits him, but we're not committing to anything. Isn't that right?" He turns to look at Noctis, giving him a Look.

Eli's trying to help.

Keith | Voltron: Legendary Defender

[legionnaires]

De Chima.

He should have known better than to wander too much in De Chima. He was distracted with his own thoughts (thoughts about his previous time here -- how much time had passed? Will anyone still remember him?) only to be pulled off and placed in front of a line of clothing.

"Oh no. I'm not interested." He tries to walk away, only to be ushered back. "Seriously. I'm not interested."

He's becoming increasingly agitated the more he's pushed into participating in this makeover game show, yanking his arm back as he tries in vain to leave.

"Fine!" He crosses his arms. "Fine. Just get it over with already."

Maurtia Falls.

The canal was actually a pretty neat idea -- something to spark tourism and drive more jobs for the natives and imPorts alike. Not that he was super interested in the political nature of the move, but he was starting to recognize the importance of these things a little better. Removing a tyrannical government meant that they would eventually have to come up with ideas to revitalize economic trade and growth throughout the galaxy.

Which was way above his pay grade, but he's sure Allura would help them all figure it out eventually.

He was lucky (this time) that everything was running smoothly. No screams for help, no super villains trying to destroy the place. Maurtia Falls actually seemed...quiet. Keith was taking advantage of the peace for now, sitting at a cafe with a cup of coffee (oh how he missed coffee) with the Black Lion at his feet.

Machine Man | Marvel-616

[clanky]

1. Heropa

[ Technically Aaron...well, he never quit drinking. Scaled back considerably on the "my robot brain needs beer" factor right around the time he decided actively working for S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't seem like much fun anymore. Freelancing might come with a large side order of "having to collect Deadpool's gibbits" (which Aaron lets other people do.) But at least he never has to pick up the phone for any powers-that-be if he doesn't want to, and funny how that makes you feel less need to drink. Things were actually going...okay.

But always, inevitably, when you're in that hero life—the other shoe's going to drop.

And you know what shit he didn't miss? This shit. This shit, in this place, with this interdimensional alien kidnapping voodoo. And he'll be damned if he's going to sit here at this festival-of-beer and contemplate indefinite detention without drinking any of it.

There's a keg, and there's a hose. There's a hose plugged directly into the keg and he's jamming the other end of the hose straight into his forehead. For maximum alcohol at maximum speed. ]

Good god, you people are bad at this. [ The bathroom hijackers? The pee dancers? Please. Those are fleshy concerns. ] A double IPA only 6% ABO? Pass.

[ He yanks the hose out of his head with a wet pop!, to go with his look of genuine disgust. Aaron's not gonna do anything but drink beer until the show gets too annoying to tolerate or until it becomes obvious nobody else is going to solve the Great Pee Crisis of 2018. #NoBladderNoProblem ]


3. Maurtia Falls

[ Honestly, only two things about this whole situation surprise him: 1) that nobody's hijacked this little show to sabotage the canal or blow up an important city landmark yet, and 2) that he can't find any bookies taking bets on how long it will take an emerging supervillain. (Not to place a bet. Bookies know everybody. Is this a "troubled city" or not??) Possibly people here are way less opportunistic than some of the fleshies back home? Possibly there are just not significant numbers of supervillains.

Small boats when you weigh nearly a ton? No. Swimming? Hell no. Tour guides? He can do more informative research in his sleep on this third-rate Google clone. His mighty computer brain is...bored. Irritable? Melancholy? An uncategorizable emotion. One of the damn inconvenient ones. ]

Well, this is somewhat anticlimatic.

[ They say sometimes it's easier if you say things out loud. But anticlmatic? Still not right. Aaron tries not to have expectations of the fleshies, good or bad. Homesick? Shit, is that it?

A small child trips and stumbles towards the rail; Aaron's arm extends from beneath his trenchcoat sleeve to snatch at the back of its shirt, before it can fall. ]

Watch where you're going, fleshling.

[ He pretends not to notice the way the small child's eyes bug out of their head and it takes off running as fast as possible. So that never changes. Good thing Aaron has no lungs and he can't sigh. ]


WILDCARD
[ Also welcome! Hit me up as needed. ]

HEROPA

[mortalweapon]

[ Admittedly, Danger isn't so great at the whole beer festival thing herself — for different reasons, of course. It's not that she has any bladder-related issues or other concerns of a flesh-and-bone body, but she also doesn't drink in her mechanical form. She probably could, but it would just result in a lot of wasted alcohol splattering down over her cores and cables. And nobody wants that.

Technically, she could have fixed her chassis to accommodate the consumption of foods and liquids, but she sort of hates digesting. Like a lot. She really hates the way things feel going in, but she especially hates how they feel coming out. So. No digestion. No fleshy body with its fleshy problems. Just a robot at Chug Fest who is not drinking any beer but certainly is looking out for her friend who decidedly has been.

She approaches, eying the hose and the keg before letting one hand rest on her hip in a way she absolutely must have learned from the humans. ]

Perhaps you should leave some for the organics, Aaron.

Dolores Abernathy | Westworld

[dontwyattme]

o2.

[ She looked sweet, and lost, standing out in the sun in DeChima, VA. The girl was dressed in a simple, homespun dress, blue, and had little adornment. If anything, she looked like she stepped right out of a Western, and the way she looked up at the buildings with wonder in her eyes, a sparkle that didn't leave no matter how many times she drank it in did nothing to belay that appearance of being out of place, and out of time.

Dolores spun, her head tipped as she looked back and forth, distracted, but somehow, despite that, when she almost bumped into the nearest import, she turned, and smiled, tucking a lock of her ringlets behind her ear. ]

Oh, hello! [ She tipped her head, and smiled. ] Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? [ Are you gonna try to make over this cinnamon roll? ]

o4

[ Dolores didn't even know what a club was. In fact, she went straight for the odd man eating pancakes, and stepped closer, almost completely ignorant of the cars that tried to squeeze their way through. She was getting used to them, and things always seemed to work out when she walked in their way, so surely nothing would happen.

When she came closer, she tried to squeeze through the crowd, but never pushed, and never really squirmed through. ]

Excuse me? [ She paused, and tried to step closer. ] What's happening?

Wildcard

[ Go hog wild, newcomer! ]

2

[rexabcrystallo]

[ Having already escaped the makeovers himself, Noctis has managed to get a nice black suit out of the ordeal, so he looks at least half-respectable, if not properly regal. He's caught up in the buildings himself when she snaps him out of it. Placing a hand on his chest, he gives her a slight bow, minding his manners. ]

My apologies. [ Good work, Noct. Just like a proper king. He follows her eyeline back to the skyscrapers. ] Actually, I was just thinking how much it reminds me of home. [ Said with a sad smile and all the weight of someone who hasn't been home in a very, very long time. ]

Is this your first time in the city?

nico minoru | marvel 616

[blutmagie]

de chima

[on the bright side? this probably isn't a murderworld. that's really the only bright side she's seeing to being kidnapped to this world, so far. nico finds herself accosted by press as she manages to evade the makeover setup, wearing a black dress and knee-high buckle boots along with a dark wide-brimmed hat. they've pinned her as an imPort. probably in part because of, you know, the black metallic arm, attached seamlessly to a stump above her elbow.]

Get away from me, I'm not in the mood for this--no, I'm not telling you about my arm! [nico scowls, fingernails digging into her palm. hard. she glances about, trying to find a spot to get away. new invasive questions--her powers, her home world, her name, her private life; one of them points out a resemblance to another magic-using import, and asks if she has any connection to nico minoru, which is a bizarre question to her on so many levels. blood oozes from her palm as the stress of dealing with this shit becomes too much, and her eyes glow a solid purple. she speaks with a voice that sounds odd, weighted and crackling with something besides herself.]

When blood is shed... let the Staff of One emerge.

[light shines from her chest, followed by the staff coming out. nico brandishes it, looking a little bit like a cornered rabbit. she fucking hates summoning this thing, and she didn't even mean to this time. she keeps trying to look for a way to extricate herself, not wanting to cast something. and yet:]

Will you just--Shut Up! [oops. intent and focus matters with the staff. and more importantly, she's used that one before. the staff hates reruns. so the glow returns to her eyes, and a dark cloud forms maybe fifty feet off of the ground, before hail starts falling. in june. in a 20 foot radius and no further.

suffice it to say that she's not having a good day so far. and her display only seems to put blood in the water for the reporters. someone ought to give her a hand, maybe. or maybe they've already started trying? mysteries.]

network

i've been here two days and i'm still not convinced this whole thing isn't some supervillain getting their kicks. this screams arcade.

wildcard

[idk live your life]

network

[koshmarr]

This screams government abduction to me. It wouldn't be unprecedented by the standards of my home, although if it's an abduction the lengths they're going to for the sake of obfuscating that are absurd.

Although I suppose any explanation for this is going to be absurd, given how strange the last few days have been even from my own limited perspective.

[ Leonid types like he talks: at length and overly-eloquent in a very calculated attempt to keep from sounding like the Siberian bumpkin most people assumed he was from his surname. It probably comes across as snobby, but in his defense, he's from 1977, and computers as a whole are still baffling to him. ]

Stan Pines | Gravity Falls

[kolus]

Heropa

"Hi. I'm Mister Mystery. Does your mouth feel like a desert? Is the sun slowly frying your brain? Beat the heat and bewilder the taste buds with an ice cold Mystery Soda. The only thing more mysterious than its packaging is its content! Could there be subtle hints of lemon inside? Delicious raisins? Plastic dinosaurs? The answer will shock you! This Chug Fest reach for the soda that challenges your senses. Buy a Mystery Soda and know the unknowable. Available here for a limited time only."

This stand looks a little underwhelming compared to its competitors. It's not even a stand, it's just an ice cream cart with some sloppy signage slapped over it. Currently, it's tended by an old carnival barker wearing an eyepatch and a large smile, no doubt searching for his next sucker customer. The soda advertised comes in a completely yellow bottle, the only clue to its content a puzzling question mark painted on it. If mysteriously unmarked soda isn't your thing though there are also a few "classics" to choose from: Dr.Mystery, Curiosity Cola, Ominous Orange and Mount Mysterious. Unfortunately, a sip of any of these sodas begs to question why is it so thick? When did this soda expire? And are these safe for consumption?

[Note: Mister Mystery does not assume liability for disappointment, strange rashes or high blood pressure. Consuming Mystery Soda may result in discolor or enlargement of the tongue, vomiting, loss of vision, loss of balance or loss of wallet.]

[snapboomtwangthunksplat]

"...ah, a grifter's stand. How charming."

There's what appears to be a small rat on the cart, tapping at one of the bottles - even though they're no doubt far larger than him. Dapper as he might appear, he's certainly rather condescending about it.

thomasin | the witch

[curdle]

heropa

[ Thomasin has been in Heropa around eight hours now. In that time, she has been briefed on her surroundings, informed over her stipend, given a dress to wear over the bloodstained shift she showed up in, and shown to her accommodations, and doing all that was surely a formidable enough task for whoever took it on. They can probably be forgiven for not letting her know about certain cultural shifts in what beverages are considered acceptable over the last four hundred years.

Still, they haven't done that -- and now here she is, completely unable to understand why she can't just go to the spot where she's heard cider is available for purchase! She's already explained to the lady watching out for sneaky under-21s that she is not, in fact, twelve, but around fifteen years of age, though she cannot be certain. The resultant laughter furrows her brows with genuine, uncomprehending frustration. ]

And what of it? Children far younger take small beer at meals. Is not my coin just as fair as any? [ Actually, she wouldn't know if it wasn't, in this era of paper money and imaginary credits! She suddenly looks perturbed for a whole new set of reasons. HELP........

Once she's been given the lowdown on water quality and skeptically accepted it as point of fact, she can be seen sampling numerous concoctions -- with, of course, as much of a watchful eye on how much she's spending as someone who can't read can manage. It doesn't matter what the contents are. Every product here is beyond foreign to her, most of them exotic beyond comprehension just by sight, and she reacts with an according mixture of shock, disgust, and sugarhigh astonishment at the results. But there are some (very few) positives to being a farmgirl from 1630, and one of them is that when the crowd begins to realize the great creeping horror of this all, Thomasin is not among their number. This is not to say that the situation isn't very much embarrassing and inappropriate, but it is to say that she didn't know what a portapotty is and therefore doesn't feel its lack for reasons we're not going to get too deep into. And if you're really, visibly, hurting? She might just, like, be casually looking at the nearest empty vessel a little more pointedly than anyone should be without ulterior implications.

A good, self-respecting Puritan girl would never outright tell you to pee in a cup and toss it out somewhere. However, she is decidedly not good or worthy of being counted amongst the godly, and you should probably pee in that cup. ]

de chima

Aye, yes -- Salem, yes. Do you know it? I went forth some months past... yes? Please you, I cannot hear it all, nor answer. Will you please--

[ All these strange, loud, fascinated folk, none of them giving her a moment's respite. She wants to curl in on herself and vanish, or burst outwards and make them regret this, but Thomasin can do neither regardless of what her file says. All she can do is stand and weather the storm of questions, most of which she barely understands anyway -- though she gets the gist, it's hard to process their strange accents when sentences are coming at her fast and loose, from all sides. A prideful, secret part of her might admit, however, that the idea of so many grown adults of means hanging on her every word is exciting, despite its hatefulness. It means she matters, and might gain further from their interest. It means someone has even the slightest interest, for once, in what Thomasin has to say.

That prideful, secret part of her promptly gets derailed by the first flash of a camera. Sure, this is all being recorded, but she doesn't understand what any of the equipment is, and while it's outlandish and strange, a blinking red light is not an active assault on her eyeballs. Thomasin startles, bumping into the nearest reporter and then violently wrenching herself away when they try to steady her. ]

No! Let me alone!

[ Or maybe you're going to make her over! There is absolutely no question that Thomasin should not be trusted with scissors after her reaction to flash photography. She doesn't look quite as anachronistic as she should, with her hair down and a modernish dress on, but the shift underneath is rough homespun hemp, and she keeps worrying the ends of the sleeves with her fingers while she stares at the clothes. In the back of her mind, like a cold chime of bells, the same three words repeat.

A pretty dress?

This is, surely, exactly what she gave assent to. So why does it make her feel such dread? She looks back up to whoever else has been roped into this, though the change in focus makes her expression no less somber. ]

What will you with me? [ she asks, and her voice matches her face -- anxious, a little grim, but also curious. ]

maurtia falls (i'm not apping in with this power but it was too personally funny, to me, not to include)

[ Running water is a luxury she still only understands the bare bones of, and as she stands by the side of the canal part of her thinks she ought to have brought a bucket. It's instinctive by now, really, as well ingrained as any of the daily chores that are now so unnecessary. In the morning, she fetches the water, and whensoever mother bids her, she fetches more. Even if Mercy were old enough to carry it back, she wasn't allowed near the brook after what happened to Samuel.

The thought of Sam is what spurs Thomasin on, without any conscious thought or intention, when she sees the child drop into the canal. Still fully-dressed, she runs the short distance to the edge of the bank and leaps in. The distance between her and the boat isn't so great, and when she jumps and pushes off the wall of the canal she gets about halfway to the struggling child, so that's good. There is, however, one problem.

When the shock of the cold water hitting her brings her back to herself, she remember she can't swim. And why would she? She was never afraid of being in the brook, but this is deeper, and her wildly kicking feet already can't find the bottom. Thomasin barely has time to scream before the water slapping her face closes over the top of her head -- and has even less time to panic before she pops back up like a cork. She sucks in breath and starts yelling for help before she processes that she should, by all rights, be sinking like a stone. ]

I cannot swim! [ and then to herself: ] What...

[ After a moment of flailing wonderment, she hears shrieking from the boat, and she moves again. Thomasin proceeds to doggy paddle towards the kid, and as she goes more horizontal, the clearer it becomes that she's actually, if anything, rising in the water, until she's barely half a foot deep in it. It is absolutely the dumbest-looking thing anyone's ever seen, but at least it gets her to the little boy before he can go under. The extra weight will pull us both down, she thinks, but she can't not grab him now that she's out here anyway, and she prepares for the worst!

Which does not happen. A hysterical child of about four is clutched tight in her arms, and she's floating in water as if she were sitting in a kiddy pool. She raises her voice again. ]

This is no jest! Please, hurry.

vvildcard

whatever whatever thou dost what thou wilt, also let me know if you don't want any spoilers for the movie! i know it's been out for two years now, and i'll default to only referring to events very obliquely, but still.

heropa

[workingsnug]

[it does, in fact, look ridiculous. but like hell that means that beowulf will stop to laugh.]

[no, as soon as he heard a shriek, his head had whipped around and he'd dashed to the edge of the canal. feet planted and hand on his hips, he raises his other to point at the sky, and then at the damsel in distress.] Don't you worry about a thing, little lady! You got nothing to be scared of when The Wulf is around! Arooooooooooo!

[and then HE'S in the water too, though he does swing his arms up to launch his weight into something that's probably meant to be a swan dive. when he reemerges, he's only a few strokes away from the citizens in need of rescue. he's got this! he's gonna be the big hero of the day!]

[unfortunately, he doesn't have anything remotely resembling lifeguard training. nobody's ever told him not to let a panicking drowning person latch onto you.] Hey there, kid. 'Kay, let's do this one at a time-- [and then a splutter as his head goes under for a moment. he's not a bad swimmer, but the water is over his height and he doesn't have the same buoyancy that the girl seems to. beowulf might actually be having more trouble here than she is.]

Leonid Aslanov | Original Character | OTA

[koshmarr]

De Chima

[Many times, he'd rolled his eyes when his mother sent him clothes in an effort to help him look classier, particularly when she hinted that he might want to look his best just in case he met a special someone. Leonid adores the woman, but he's never been terribly interested in appearances. Unfortunately, he's got a Russian accent and the natives here remember the Cold War as a present event in the same way he does, so when he gets one too many alarmed looks he starts clarifying upfront that he's an imPort. Better to have them oggle him for that than be on guard against him as if he were dangerous.

Or at least, that's what he'd thought until an adorable and oddly fashion-forward little old lady flagged him down, asking for his help. She looked too much like Leonid's mother when she smiled to turn down. The next thing he knew, she had hauled him into a store and shoved him at another imPort who looked equally baffled by this turn of events. ]

Here, [ the little old lady declares,] now you can get all made-over like the others! Goodness knows the scarf in summer look is right out.

[ She leaves before Leonid can clarify to her that it had been December in his world. A touch uncomfortable, he folds his arms and looks over at the imPort saddled with the unenviable task of trying to make him presentable. ] Well, let's get this over with. I suppose there's nothing you could do to make me look worse than I regularly make myself look already.


Maurtia Falls

[ Something is deeply wrong with the fact that nothing reminds him more of St. Petersburg than the rampant crime present in Maurtia Falls. In a way, it's sick, but this feels familiar. The people with duplicity in their eyes, the open lack of faith in those at the top, the building of places almost aggressively useless to the public when that money could have gone into crime prevention - all it needs now is some snow and decent street food. Still, for all his internal grumbling, for all that he's professed out loud a hundred times to his friends that he's stopped giving a damn about people, he showed up for the canal's grand opening day.

When he hears a child scream and the splash of water, he turns on instinct, reaching out with his mind to grab the little girl and yank her out of it, but he hadn't factored into that move the fact that one of the boats is approaching, and the undertow is strong enough that his ability to pull isn't as strong as the water's. The girl flails and shrieks up at him as he searches the crowds for whatever the God forsaken equivalent to a psychic the locals have is. ]

Does anyone else have telekinesis? I don't have enough power to get her out of the current, I - I - [ the look the natives give him informs him that asking about powers is every bit the faux-pas here it was back home. Normally, he's better at putting on a polite facade in public, but the combination of being brought here against his will and the stress of having hid his powers back home for his entire life robs him of that ability. ] There has to be someone else who can help, even my luck isn't that atrocious.

[ ...hopefully it's not, anyway.]


Nonah

[ Of course his first instinct was to slip into a club and try to obtain alcohol. As excuses went, 'I left my ID in another dimension' was perhaps the most bulletproof of all of them, and Leonid regularly got pegged as older than he was at home. Passing for old enough to drink was not the worst thing he'd done - it wasn't even the worst thing this week - and frankly, he's Siberian. He knows how to nurse a drink slowly, how to keep from needing a ride home. So when he gets the feeling the bartender might be smelling bullshit about him being of age, he gracefully bows out of the night club.

That's when he sees the pancake man and wonders if he's not as good at drinking as he thought. Surely, he would have to be profoundly drunk to hallucinate this. Confused, brow furrowed, he turns to the nearest person and struggles to find a polite way to ask what on God's green Earth is wrong with the United States. ] Is this normal, here? Sorry, I'm new.

Zarina | Disney's Fairies

[flyingfrigates]

De Chima
[Zarina was drawn to the makeovers. To the sight of people going through a transformation of their own. Sure not all of these people seemed keen on their changes while in the process, but the mix of colors, changes in wardrobe, and the focus of the stylists interested her. Interested her enough that she asked if she could take part. She didn't have anyone particular in mind, but you needed a partner, so she'll be coming up to people wandering nearby to accost them into being that partner.

Not like she cares if they want it or not, she's a pirate. Pirates don't care about things like that! The fact she's human-sized with dainty, glittery fairy wings is not making her any less insistent or confident.]

You! [She points.] Yes, you. You're needed over here. Hurry up, we're making them wait.

Maurtia Falls
[The ship is not moving anymore. She had wanted to ride the big fancy boat because it was so unlike a pirate ship, and yet now something is wrong and the boat is stuck. She flies up above it to get a good look and what she sees is the boat listing suddenly to the side.]

Stay still and you'll be fine!

[Immediately she goes into her satchel and throws some sea blue pixie dust into the water around the boat, sending it pushing the boat toward the shore faster. But of course not everyone listens to "stay still" and that boy still ends up tossed over side and into the water while the boat wave carries the boat away from him. Is she going to have to save him?]

/late with starbucks

[heliophilic]

[M had no intention of getting roped into a makeover, show or no show. His sense of style was already damn good, if he said so himself. The fact that his would-be style guru looked she just walked out of a Ren Faire didn't help matters either. He just looks over at her, disbelief practically dripping off his every word.]

Yeah, no. That's a hard pass.

robert ford | westworld | kindly ignore the wrong icons

[consciouscontinuity]

o1. heropa.

[ Robert Ford does not cut an imposing figure, nor is he particularly noteworthy in any way. A relatively kindly looking old man in an old-fashioned - some might say stodgy, judging by the pocketwatch - three-piece suit, ambling through Heropa as though he's got all the time in the world.

He seems relatively content to stand back and watch the going-ons, minor annoyance of the crowd included, until things look like they may take a turn for the unsanitary. He turns, clearing his throat, one hand still tucked in his pocket, and looks directly at one of the presumably hidden fiends in charge of this petty mischief. ]

Remove anti-locking field.

[ And like magic, every door swings open. Fancy that. ]

o3. maurtia falls.

[ Ford is similarly low-key in Maurtia Falls, leaning against a brick wall as he unfolds a newspaper, staring down at the headlines that seem to be criticizing and praising Mayor Baelish and Ambassador Amidala in equal parts. With a rustle of paper, he folds it in half, scanning until he gets to what appears to be a diagram of the canals standing in front of him.

He contemplates it for a moment, then steps forward, gazing down at the construction below. He murmurs, as though to himself, ] There's really no excuse for sloppy design.

o3

[outlawrence]

Maybe. Unless a sloppy design was the idea. [Said a voice just behind Ford, a man who was inexplicably drawn to him. Hovering, eavesdropping, his swagger cocky and his demeanor eager to please.]

Could easily be a fronted gravesite, is all I'm saying. Seen bolder attempts to hide a bad decision.