onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] emptynesters2017-04-04 08:54 am
Entry tags:

TEST DRIVE :003


TEST DRIVE :003


     WELCOME to the test drive and thank you for your interest in Station 72! To allow players to experiment with game mechanics, flexibility and to account for the fact that our TDMs tend to span a number of months to make up for our low player turnover, we've put together a game-themes random scenario generator for you to play with. Mix and match prompts at will, pick your own broodmates, experiment with abilities and specializations, talk to each other and maybe make up some pre-established CR, and generally play around however you like.

This test drive is not game canon, so take this chance to go nuts! Current in game players are also welcome to make top levels here and aren't beholden to their in-game characterizations (so if it makes more sense to be a broodmates of a character test driving, feel free to do so for the sake of these threads).

For the full experience, we strongly encourage players to write up a short blurb about what their fellow characters might know about them either through shared time on the Station or through the Nest mental link. Handy links can be found at the bottom of this entry if you have any questions and APPLICATIONS are always open if you decide you'd like to jump into the game proper. If you're having trouble coming up with a symbiote ability for your character for use in either the TDM or for your application, we have an ability workshop post located HERE.


(Mix and match these prompts at will to create your own TDM scenario - there's no obligation to use something from every category. Feel free to make up anything that isn't covered in the prompt if it lends to your playing.)


     THE PLACE

1. STATION 72 consists of massive, alien sprawl. While large sections of the Station might be mistaken for a Station manufactured for use by humanoid beings - the hangar is relatively standard other than its massive size, the Life Support deck with its series of living quarters seems normal enough (if you ignore the part where none of the rooms have doors on them), and there's even a Jai Alai court -, beyond the most well trod paths the Station quickly cedes to the utterly bizarre. Corridors twist and loop back in on themselves, great verandas overlook massive empty rooms, ramps because stairs which lead to dead ends. It's easy to get lost if you don't have a destination in mind. Strangely enough, if you do know where you want to be, the Station's twisting paths will eventually get you there as long as you keep your goal firmly in mind. Knowing that is another thing entirely.

2. THE MELTED WORLD was once beautiful. Then again, maybe it's always been a toughened old rock, but at some point the planet called Ojan was glassed in the throes of a brutal war. The planet's entire surface has become a twisted, mirror-like substance by whatever super hot biological weapon was poured into it. The material isn't actually that horrible, consuming black; it perfectly reflects the empty, quiet space that surrounds Ojan: a foreboding testament to a war long forgotten. But what lies below the surface of the desolated world?

3. THE SCEPTRE is a fabulous building structure suspended from an asteroid in orbit around a planet. The Sceptre pierces down through the atmosphere of the planet below and over the course of the asteroid's orbit, The Sceptre has an opportunity to pass through every habitat and climate the world below it has to offer. The Sceptre is sleek and beautiful (or it is? Maybe it's fallen into disrepair and only ghosts remain) and its massive windows look out onto a varied, verdant world (or do they? What state is the planet below in, exactly? Has it been so thoroughly paved over that the atmosphere is the only place left to build?).

4. PENTARA PRIME is the ancient, meandering capital of the lush garden world of Pentara. Unlike most cities, it is a large, verdant sprawl, made up eighteen clustered centers - groups of low, elegant stone buildings, strung together by winding roads populated with quietly humming pods moving people from spoke to spoke. The capital is built around leisure, not production and there are far more gardens and orchards than there are buildings. The sun is heavy and low, and the air is still and buzzes with the sounds of fat-bodied insects. It’s so still, so calm. It seems empty and there is something unsettling in the quiet. --Or is it? Maybe it's bustling with energy, just as vibrant and delightful as it seems on the surface.

5. CHORIUS is not quite a planet. Not anymore. Once long ago it was, but over time it has changed - been stripped clean of every valuable mineral, every scrap of rare metal, and eventually even of atmosphere. The core has cooled perceptibly and now even its rotation period has slowed dramatically. Now it is a made up of shaped carbon and steel that bridge over the stripped surface of the planet, pulsing with energies, shielded from the harshness of the sun by a webbed dome that keeps the electric scented air from escaping into the space around it. Here nothing is wasted. Everything - everyone - is recycled and reconstituted into new forms. Every one of the cities changes daily, reformatted to meet new goals and new needs. It is a dead world filled with the living. But whether it is thriving or dying is hard to say - and what the newest change will bring with it is even more difficult to guess.

6. SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER. There's a lot of it in every direction.

     THE PEOPLE

1. THE OUTLANDERS consist of small bands of settlers and explorers who have quested out into the unknown, the remote, and the dessicated parts of this galaxy looking for either new opportunities or forgotten mysteries. They are mostly upright though only vaguely humanoid, remnants of a civilization driven from their own failing world, each group is bound only by their own codes and personal laws. They're traders and nomads, largely peaceful but wary of the harsh, dangerous environment and beings they've crossed paths with. Don't cross a deal with an Outlander - they'll make you regret it.

2. A VERITABLE MELTING POT, the beings of this metropolis are as vibrant and diverse as is imaginable. These are a people developed by a myriad of cultural influences, technological insights, overlapping interests and clashing societal norms shaken up and spit out into something that more or less works as long as there's a whole lot of bureaucracy to keep it in order. And boy is there a lot of that. Mind your p's and q's - someone might haul you in for questioning if you cause too much of an uproar.

3. A RUINED GHOST is all that remains of this ancient civilization. Once there were people here leading brilliant or lives, or quiet ones, but all that's left are their ruined structures, old half-functional consoles and signs of lives abruptly arrested. What destroyed these people is initially unclear, but their extinction appears to have been absolute. --Or was it?

4. THE COURT is elegant and beautiful and perfect. Every being is shrouded in delicate, gauzy fabrics layered so densely as to obscure their elongated squirming bodies from head to toe. Each step sounds like a bell ringing from the the small metal plates at the bottom of their soft slippers; every gloved finger glints with small golden threads. The queens sweep through their secret insect gardens and their royal technomancers walk the halls with the glitter of hologlyphs sparkling at their fingertips and in the wake of their sweeping robes.

5. THE GREAT MILITARY is larger even than it’s name suggests. Every member of their civilization plays some part in it, every person has a rank, every family an insignia. The structure is rigid and inflexible and all-encompassing, and it has made them into ferocious enemies. They have been at war for as long as they have been a people, and their battle will never end, because if it did, they would go with it. The harshness of their life is painted on the sharp planes of their grey faces, but there is an indomitability and a pride to them that is hidden by their stern, unchanging expressions.

6. SCUM ALWAYS LIVES at the edge of the universe. Beware the dark of the space and the seedier underbelly of cities or the shadows of forgotten planet - pirates make their living there and these are desperate times, friend.

     THE OBJECTIVE

1. GET UP from where you've fallen. Or get up from the nesting deck pod where you've just woken up on the Station. Or get up to Level 672 where there's a ship waiting for you. Or get up from the knee you've taken before this alien queen. Get up.

2. THE RESCUE might be saving a city from a disaster engineered by an enemy force, playing bodyguard for a government official, or liberating a rare artifact from a crumbling structure.

3. IT'S A RACE AGAINST TIME to collect the relic you've been sent to retrieve from the collapsing ruin. Or to make your way free of the military blockade. Or to make your escape from a crumbling world.

4. THE MASQUERADE is all a cover - for an assassination. For a heist. For a political coup.

5. INFILTRATE you know what you need. And you know who has it. With a little help you’ll be able to break into the place no one is supposed to go. You could sneak in… or smash in. Or maybe just talk your way past every little problem.

6. COME ON AND SLAM and welcome to the jam. It’s a ritual or maybe it’s just a pastime, but whichever it is there are rules and there is a goal. There’s probably even points. If you’re lucky, you just might score one. Avoid the spiky pits? Or maybe the thrown fruit. Or perhaps just the other team...

6. EXPLORE and uncover the secrets this place have to offer. There’s a mystery here if you know where to find it. And all you have to do is look.

7. DON'T DIE is easy to say and hard to do when you're under the guns of an armada. Or when you're trying to outwit spies. Or when the ground is literally crumbling under your feet.


     INSPIRATION







quintet: (sideyeing your life choices rn)

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-10 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
"Wh-- of course you're human," Quintet stops eating for a moment to cock her own head at Pidge, as if a slightly different angle on this might make it easier to digest. Human, but not an ape? Touchy.

"You're a pretty weird kind of person, you know? We're both a long way from home."
greentech: (oro?)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-10 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Weird? I don't think I'm weird - why am I weird?" Pidge isn't trying to be defensive. It's more self-conscious. She doesn't get why the distinction between human and ape might just be semantics; it's self-evident to her, but she also grew up with that sort of thing being ingrained in her.
quintet: (i was a nun in a previous life)

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-10 06:21 am (UTC)(link)
"You want a list, guy? C'mon."

No really, Pidge, she doesn't want to fight. The last of the jerky disappears into Quintet's gullet and she sits back on her haunches to make her post-meal ablutions. It's a very cat-like moment, utterly ordinary; a feline washing her paws in the usual manner.

"Alright, for one thing. You're wearing like so much. Who does that? It's not that cold in here. Second, you said you were human, but like-- wouldn't you still be human if you were an ape? I'm human, you're human, we're all human. Kinda weird, if you ask me. Plus there's that thing, what you said?" Quintet pauses a moment, as if remembering. The mental image that accompanies it is, comically, one of Pidge standing literally atop a literal chain, "Top of the food chain? That's the kind of thing Wild people say."

She gives Pidge a pointed glance, looking up from her paw with that special derision that only cats have.

"It's weird. But what do I know? I'm not even from your place."
greentech: (curious and curiouser)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-10 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't think you... really understand what I was saying," Pidge says weakly. She's not entirely sure how to respond to Quintet, but she does her best. Then again, she's a cat, so this shouldn't be a surprise, right?

"Apes and humans aren't even the same species. Same family, I guess, but we can't interbreed and it's not like apes have the same level of intelligence as human beings do. And the food chain thing is... a metaphor? An example? I don't know. We're the dominant species on my home planet, so..."

Pidge shrugs.
quintet: (FUCK U AND FUCK UR MOM)

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-10 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well obviously, you're not the same species, even apes aren't all the same species?" Every been side-eyed by a cat, Pidge? Cross that one off the bucket list, "What does that have to be with--"

Wait.

Wait what?

Apes and humans aren't even the same...

Quintet can't help her curling lip, or the way her fur starts to puff, along spine and hackles. What the fuck, Pidge? What the hell is wrong with you?

"Are you seriously saying that apes aren't people?"
greentech: (THE PEDALS)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-10 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Uh. Not in the traditional definition of people," Pidge replies, holding both of her hands up with a slight frown. What the Hell is with this cat?

"They don't really have the same level of intellectual development as humans - they're animals, right? It's just... that's how it is. I'm not saying they should be mistreated or anything, but they're not on the same level like, I dunno, the Galra or Alteans or all of the other species we've run into."
diamondhack: (the wolf)

Isha Devan | Original

[personal profile] diamondhack 2017-07-23 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
((Isha is a career criminal turn INTERPOL agent. She's charming, pretty much a genius... and pretty much a manipulator and hard to read. Her link will look like nothing but mirrors and reflective surfaces, but the further you go in, the more you'll see of cracked concrete, crystalline walls, and jungle overgrowth. She seems put together and judgmental. Really, she's unpredictable and at core a survivalist with an occasional penchant for violence and a definite need to prove herself constantly. Her power is an extension of her natural state called Hall of Mirrors, which misdirects people trying to push through, as well as have the capacity to trap them once it's strong enough.))

STATION 72
[Well it's all lovely when you're walking into a sci-fi movie as part of an experience.

Except this is not an experience Isha Devan remembers signing up for. Some part of her suspects this might be something playing with her system, attachments gone wrong from her brain to her synapses to her arm. Worse yet, a drug of some kind, giving her some grand illusion of a world she likely would have dreamed up of as a child.

She has no idea where to go, or what to do. Habit, nervous tic, call it whatever you'd like, has her flexing the fingers of her left prosthetic hand. Given that she's wearing a sweatshirt, it's hard to see just how far that prosthetic goes. Her dark round sunglasses obscure her searching expression, thankfully.]


Well if I didn't know any better I would've imagined I drank too much.

[She says it to no one in particular, forgetting, briefly that her trusted companion Q-11 is not with her at this moment.]

PENTARA PRIME
[Places like these aren't all so common anymore. Not like this. Places like this in her home are all squared away and protected in perfection.

She might have snuck into places like those after hours, because she could.

It is beautiful, in its frenetic quiet. Isha reaches out to touch one of the flowers with her left hand... then pulls it back. One of the problems with her arm? It's still adjusting. It's not fully interfaced yet. The haptic feedback had never been automated, because she didn't want to be tracked via her arm.

Isha plays it off by flexing her fingers, forcing electricity to crackle between the tips as if she were making sure everything is in order.]


Something here must be off. No one can live like this without enterprise.

[She glances out, watching the pods come and go. Surely something is going on here to allow for such leisurely life.]

MASQUERADE
[The cut Isha has is, to put it simply, elegant. It's only because she went through the pains of looking a little too elegant, a little too regal. Somewhere caught between an alluring mystery and nigh untouchable.

Except she's usually like that. The only difference is the dress and the mask, and not leather leggings, sweatshirt, and sunglasses. The backless dress reveals the prosthetic reaching all the way up to her shoulder. Gold and diamonds are inlaid in swirling henna patterns from fingers up.]


( You know, masquerades, balls, and parties generally have more theatrics happening among their patrons. There's nothing happening here and it's making for a boring time. )

[But she slowly makes rounds anyway, sipping her drink, sussing out everyone. There's a target to find, somewhere in the mess.]
handsigns: <user name=guiltfreeicons site=www.tumblr.com> (pic#11603621)

Nicolas Brown | Gangsta.

[personal profile] handsigns 2017-07-31 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
IOTA-based skillset. Has a BERSERK BUTTON like in canon minus the drug use; however, the increased strength and agility only last a short duration, and the consequences of coming off the adrenaline high work in the same way. Typically, he'll pass out afterward, leaving him vulnerable.


STATION 72
[A lot of people may mistake him for dead, for a robot. The quiet of space doesn't bother him because he's very use to quiet. The jarring, unstable words he sometimes bothers to speak never end up in his head like most expect. Monstrously grating words are nowhere to be found.

He's use to silence.

When his dark eyes open, he doesn't startle awake.

The jumbled telepathy that causes everyone endless struggle is absent. He's as eerily quiet as the grave. There's no use for words in his brain when there can't be words in his mouth. But the feeling is there as he stands in the Nest.

A grip, taut as a string, and a passion bubbling below the surface. A volcano, not even puffing smoke yet. Hard, functioning muscles. The ability to split a wall from ceiling to floor. All behind a white sheet of calm, collected silence.

Anyone moving seems reasonable, he's hoping. His hands create symbols and motions in the next person's direction, but his mind doesn't speak a word.]

THE CLAW
[It descends, casting its three talons outward as it does, and at the bottom, they wrap around the head of a tongue-out puppydog with dead eyes. An offering for participation.

The prey seems secure, but at the top, the metal fingers wobble, and the soul-destroyed dog is released back into the stuffed wilderness. It plummets the two feet back into its cage, and The Claw, giving up, returns to its position in the corner.

Nicolas is a little miffed at the outcome of the claw crane when it seemed as if he had done so well to line things up. There's no monetary payment required, yet somehow, things are still inside.

That's fine.

With the joystick and single button, Nic tries again to raise the dog out of its hell.]

Rei Ayanami | Neon Genesis Evangelion

[personal profile] oedipalcomplication 2017-07-31 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Pentara Prime

[ Rei Ayanami stands in the midst of a wide boulevard and watches the empty street. The eerie silence is broken only by the soft sound of summer insects that chirp or grind away, their strange chorus filling the heavy, humid air in a way that reminds her of the cicadas from home. It is the still emptiness of the place though, that reminds her of Tokyo-3. It's as if everyone has evacuated to the shelters. She almost expects an Angel to appear in the sky, aiming for the geofront. But there is nothing, just the sound of insects.

She picks her way across the road to stand beneath the shade of trees and look into the display window of a boutique. Alien clothing posed on strangely shaped mannequins and jewelery that shimmers with an inner light. She isn't sure what she feels about these things. Emotions are difficult to understand and harder still to express and so she stares into the window. These sorts of things aren't meant for her, on some level. She is disposable, ultimately. Her worth is in her ability to pilot the Eva and to be useful--these sorts of things don't add to that, and so she doesn't need them.

Part of her wants them, though. Is that what it is to be an individual? To want?

Then the sound of a footfall disturbs her. It's different from the croaking insects and the faint hum of automated, empty pods that still travel from place to place. She turns towards the new arrival and stares flatly, waiting to see what they want of her. ]


II. Get up

[ Get up. She has to get up. There's a small voice screaming at the back of her mind, the one that demands self-preservation and fear and doubt and caution. Struggling in the spacesuit she's wearing, she manages to shover herself up her knees. It's bulky and heavy, similar and yet so different from the slender plug suit she's so used to wearing. Her breathing is heavy and she notes it with as much disinterest as she might note the color of the sky. There is panic in her chest but she does her best to ignore it, her face still the impassive mask that she presents to the world.

The derelict vessel is starting to shake, ancient engines rumbling as it begins to tear itself apart--a side effect of whatever the Nest had sent them here to achieve. She has to get up, part of her says. Get up and get to the ship. Another part of her says that she shouldn't bother. She is disposable. A piece in the machine and if leaving her accomplishes their mission, why shouldn't they do that. She gropes for a handhold on a bulkhead. ]


( Do not wait for me. )

Edited 2017-07-31 17:01 (UTC)
redheadcarrier: (You idiot!)

[personal profile] redheadcarrier 2017-08-02 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ This is stupid. She's stupid. She should be trying to get off of this stupid, exploding thing, not trying to go back. Especially not for Wonder Girl, of all people. The creepy, doll-like thing that she's had to contend with in the past. The one she's hated. The one she's tried to be friends with. But something calls her back. Call it altruism, call it guilt, call it a sense of responsibility. She clings to the wall for a moment as she tries to find her footing and then pushes on, teeth gritted as she stares into the gloom, illuminated by the lights on her suit. ]

( Don't pull this "Oh, I'm gonna die for you" crap on me, Wonder Girl- )

[personal profile] oedipalcomplication 2017-08-02 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ Rei is on her feet now, however unsteady they might be, and begins to pull her way down the corridor. If she remembers right there's an access hatch at the next intersection that should take her up towards the docking bay where their vessel is waiting. She is surprised (mildly) to hear the Second berating her. They have not liked each other, though Asuka has tried to be friendly in the past, Rei hasn't quite returned the effort. It's strange to think that the other pilot is trying to help even though Rei has told her not to. Confusion, relief, annoyance, all swirl together to eke into her mental voice, though her mental 'face' is almost as still as her outwards one. ]

( I wish to ensure the successful completion of the mission. If aiding me hinders the mission, it is reasonable to leave me behind. )

[ The cold calculus of what needs to be done, as far as Rei is concerned. It's not that she wants to die--far from it, she is desperate to live. But if her death means the rest of the Nest continues successfully, that is the price to pay. There is a pause before she answers again.

( I am heading for the access hatch at intersection J-4 on deck 29. )
Edited 2017-08-02 04:22 (UTC)
redheadcarrier: (What?)

[personal profile] redheadcarrier 2017-08-02 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
( Yeah, right. Misato and Ikari would probably think I left you behind on purpose. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction. )

[ She's moving, going "up" (although there's not really an "up" in space), clambering hand over hand. It reminds her a bit of the power outage and the way all three of them had gone crawling through the guts of NERV. Simpler times. Maybe even easier. She grunts as she tries to lever a hatch out of the way. Where the hell is she, anyway? She can feel the tug of Rei's mind, distant, but steady.

God, she's still creepy.
]

( Deck 29? How far up there ARE you? )
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (012)

prompto argentum | final fantasy xv

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-06 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
( OOC: prompto comes from the 10 years later timeline towards the end of ffxv; he's old and tired and upset from having his forever good bye to his best friend. he's level-headed and mature at this point, a spark more serious than before, but he still got a couple laughs left in him. )

I. GET UP

[the last thing prompto remembers were red giants spawning, crawling from the floor in the citadel's main court; himself, along with gladio and ignis, the last line of defense as noctis ascended the stairs to head to the throne room.]

[no time to think on his feelings, no time for more heartfelt goodbyes, no time for regrets.]

[they would do what they could to return dawn to their world covered in eternal darkness. but prompto always imagined it to be a gradual thing, sunshine streaming through the horizon, between the clouds, letting their weary eyes get used to it and their skins grow warm in it. the sudden, bright light in his eyes when he steps out of the nesting deck pod room leaves him nearly blind.]

[prompto squints, pressed heavily against a wall, blinking an uncomfortable amount as a hand pushes up over his eyes.]


This... isn't Insomnia...? Damn. Should've invested on sunglasses.

II. STATION 72

Uwaghh?!

[that is the resonating yell of a proper adult who is currently not able to properly resolve his problems. that problem being, his contacts are currently dry as hell and he needs them out of his eyes, right now!]

[surely this is a problem many face in space...]


[you, a good samaritan, couldn't possibly leave him to suffer (and die), right?]

Get them out! Get them out!

III. DON'T DIE

[prompto grits his teeth, hiding behind his cover. bullet shells ricochet throughout the passageway, the constant clicking of the guns not letting up one bit. how many were there? perhaps ten, fifteen soldiers. he's holding his own gun to his chest, trying to wait for a moment to raise himself and start shooting back.]

[how unfortunate that the exit is that way, and it'll only be a matter of time before more soldiers approach from where he just came from, too.]


Overkill, don't you think? Geez!

[what are the options; looking for another escape? he looks around, hoping for an alternative.]

Any ideas, buddy?

IV. WILDCARD

[whatever you want]
somnifacient: (31)

II, i can't believe

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-06 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[The cry is familiar to him, he's heard it many times before. Usually when they're in the midst of some terrible battle against monsters or daemons, and when he rounds the corner directly into Prompto's open doorway, he expects to see something that'll riddle him with anxiety. Already he feels the cool tingling of magic brimming at his fingertips, ready to summon his Engine Blade, when-

He sees Prompto there, squinting at him in the most dramatic fashion possible. Alarm fights against amusement, and Noctis just settles on looking extremely confused instead.]


Prompto? [He steps into the room, and the other should be able to feel the thread of bewilderment between them.]

The hell's going on?
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (015)

seeing is believing and, currently, prompto can't

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-06 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Noct! Buddy!

[he turns around so fast he might give himself whiplash--or a momentary dizzy spell, as he stumbles on his feet and finds purchase on grabbing onto noctis's arms, slightly hunched over]

I'd say I'm so glad to see you, but--

[he's squinting, still, making the most ridiculous of faces as he tries to force his eyes open... with little success]

You gotta help me! It hurts!
somnifacient: (28)

rip

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-06 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Prompto latches onto his arms, and Noctis actually has to throw a foot back in order to steady himself against the not-quite-flailing. His friend is making the most hilarious face at him right now, and he'd laugh if not for the fact that he isn't sure this isn't something serious.]

Woah, wait-

[He's squinting back in return, trying to see what the problem is. They're just both squinting at each other now, which probably might seem very strange to a random passerby.]

What hurts? Did you get something in your eyes?
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (011)

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-06 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[if prompto could see that noctis is also squinting, that would send him in a barrel of laughs. right now, he sure is sad he's missing it.]

Uh-huh!

My contacts! They're all dried up!

[he's distressed]

I forgot to take them out before I went to sleep...

[head bowed, resigned, but also still wincing]

It's like tiny, endless stabs into my retinaaaas...
somnifacient: (50)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-07 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
...Your contacts?

[Oh. Okay, in that case, Noctis does allow himself to feel that little tinge of amusement. Leave it to his best friend to find himself in a ridiculous situation like this, just because he forgot to take his contacts out. There's the sound of laughter attempting to be bulwarked away in his tone, but failing.]

What'd you do, sleep in them? [He shakes his head, putting a hand on his hip, almost with judgment.] And what exactly can I do about it? Sounds a lot to me like a personal problem.
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (014)

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-07 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
Are you...

Are you making fun of me?

[prompto sounds offended, pushing back a bit and putting hands to his face, in an attempt to use his fingers to keep his eyes open]

Ugh, seriously, just keep m'eyes open for a bit! --are your hands clean? By the Six, if they aren't, Noct, I swear...
somnifacient: (38)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-07 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
Look, calm down-

[When Prompto puts his hands to his face, trying to keep his eyes open, the smile that tugs at his lips is more than prevalent. But he clears his throat, trying to keep the situation calm. He doesn't want his friend freaking out just because of something as small as contacts -- they have other things to worry about these days.]

Are you saying you want me to get them out of your eyes? You've gotta be kidding me.

[He does not answer whether or not his hands are clean, because I mean, sure? They are. Sure.]

You're gonna have to stay still, you know...
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (011)

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-07 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
I can't see where they are!

[clearly, he would never ask anyone else but his ultimate bro for the favor. also, this may be his last resort, so to speak. (he's also ignoring the fact that noctis may very well be trying his best not to laugh.)]

--I'm calm. Really.

[high pitched though]

Just put me out of my misery!
somnifacient: (29)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-07 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
[(At least he's trying, all right. He's cognizant enough of your retina pain, Prompto, to not make more fun at your expense.)]

Yeah, okay, calm.

[His hands settle on Prompto's shoulders, so that he stays still, and he says in a voice that tries to sound reassuring and commanding at once.]

Look directly at me and try not to squirm around. I'm gonna stick my fingers in your eyes.
gunlock: ❥gunlock @dw (015)

[personal profile] gunlock 2017-08-07 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
Dude, words.

[noctis is the absolute worst at his being reassuring job.]

[hands on his own face, prompto does his best to pry his right eye open with his fingers.]


--one, one at the time, okay? If you screw up at least I still got one eye left.

[he hopes]

Do it, Noct.

[he's going to move away the second he sees a finger approaching his eye. can't help the flight reflex.]
somnifacient: (32)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-08-07 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
What happens if I screw up twice?

[He's a little sarcastic, because thanks for the vote of confidence there.

But he lets it go, for the sake of trying to help Prompto remove his contact. He can see it there, laying awkwardly and dry against his eye. It's kinda gross, but he'll do it for his buddy; and so he begins the slow approach with his fingers, ready to gently pinch at the contact-

When Prompto jolts away from him as if his touch was going to be electricity itself.]


Come on, I wasn't even close! I told you to stay still!
servitor: (sus as hell)

new glaive who dis // 1

[personal profile] servitor 2017-08-07 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
[Insomnia.

It's not a name he hears often. The link turns focused, razor sharp with all shining edges of knives and a backdrop of deep, swirling purple. The blue eyes of the horned coeurl are intensely gazing along the edges of the newcomer, curious, alert.]


You're far from it.

[Nyx doesn't offer much else, besides a hand to help him, should he need it. He doesn't want to trust, not yet. Because the odds of more of them, here, means Eos is in far more trouble than either he or Noctis could ever imagine.

He hasn't worn the full Kingsglaive uniform in some time, but he still wears the t-shirt, along with the sweatpants offered by the station.]

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