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







moremischievous: (down; cut to the quick)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-05-19 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Will clinging help Shiro run faster? Because that's exactly what Hikaru's doing now. CLINGING. ]

I'M NOT SQUIRMING!

[ Well, now he isn't. Too bad Hikaru isn't as attuned to his symbiote: if he was, he'd definitely be looking through Shiro's eyes instead. But, as it is.... ]

( Oh man.... )

[ ... All he sees is death, hot at their heels. And, under the shrieking and protesting, there's only fear, fear, and more fear. ]
shiro2hero: (has anyone seen my contacts??)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-05-20 12:19 am (UTC)(link)
[He doesn't stumble so much as misstep, in the sudden slam of fear. Something that makes his brain want to shut down and lash out. If Hikaru keeps being panicked, the feedback isn't going to help either of them -- ]

[His foot slips. And he realizes the hole is literally hot on their heels. The shuttle has autopilot. All he'll have to do is hit the button... ]


... whatever happens. Hold on tight.

[With panic, with fear, there comes a rising tide of anger. This should have been an easy mission. If the Station bothered to train its inhabitants, this wouldn't happen so easily. And no sooner does he acknowledge said anger than his strides lengthen. Hikaru's weight is nothing heavier than a shirt or the boots on his feet.]

[Because something else is abruptly driving his steps. Something deep and too strong and angry, something sprinting through the empty, crumbling world with a roar in his head.]

[Symbiote powers are a hell of a thing.]
moremischievous: (✚ kaoru; we are so fucked)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-05-20 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ True, Hikaru isn't as attuned to his symbiote as he could be. But he'd have to have no symbiote at all to miss the change in Shiro's head.

[ Terror lodges in his throat. His skin goes cold; he can't move a muscle. Something primal roars in his mind, and — even as they draw farther from the great hole swallowing this world — Hikaru feels like he's staring death in the eye.

[ Gold eyes slam shut, and he hisses out: ]


( You're getting a hell of a mental vacation. )

[ But he's holding on tight. ]
shiro2hero: (I will turn this lion around i stg)

[personal profile] shiro2hero 2017-05-20 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Even if Hikaru did move, Shiro'd had the presence of mind, before his symbiote activated, to grab the kid's arm. Holding on with human fingers so as not to crush something in the throes of the storm, so to speak.]

[But now, with its help, they're starting to outpace the sinkhole. Bit by bit.]

[The shuttle, eventually, appears, and for a moment, the wild, feral thing in his head wants to try and vault it. To keep on running while the anger fuels him. But training, rigorous training, keeps his feet on the right track.]

[In a few more steps, they're on board.]
brickinthewall: (side eye)

two

[personal profile] brickinthewall 2017-05-21 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[She glances over to him with that signature half-bored, half-crazed look of hers she sports so often. Her hair, also as usual, is a bit of a wild blond mess.

Cathaway, is it? Hanna doesn't care, but she's too far gone to really care who comes into any line of fire she decides to create on a whim.]


Not a bright one, are you?

[Though the link reveals that she doesn't think of herself as too terribly bright either. Too many hits to the head and all that.]

Someone's tried to sack it before, probably. Can't find the thing you want, you just leave it because it's a pain in the ass. [Hanna shrugs as she idly walks around the space, flipping her trusty pair of heavy sticks.] Casualty of war, boredom, there's a billion reasons why a place can get leveled. Gotta think some Indiana Jones shit here.

[Bad news, sure, she feels it too. It hasn't stopped her for the past several years of her life. Missions are missions, and if she gets paid, alright then. Sounds good to her.]

Fancy knife.

[About the dagger, obviously.]
calhar: (61)

[personal profile] calhar 2017-05-22 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ The insult isn't anything new. Mat weathers it without offense, save for a small, impulsive spike of pride that touches the connection. He might've frowned, too, if he weren't doing it already. ]

Brighter than most. [ Evidence would imply otherwise. He gets the faint sense of self-deprecation that follows her comment, and it's enough to distract him from the dusty panel he'd been studying. Mat watches her as she speaks, only sort of listening.

He knows there are plenty of reasons for a place to be leveled. He knows why his house was leveled, despite it being in a field with nothing of interest to absolutely anyone. His brow furrows at the name, but before he gets a chance to ask about Indiana Jones, she's asking about knives. ]


What knife? [ Punchy, yes, but only because he's confused. He catches on a beat later, and he feels the undeniably melodramatic urge to be ill. He runs over a half dozen answers, most of them curses or insults aimed at the knife. When he speaks, it's just a slightly petty: ] Get out of my head.
brickinthewall: (wicked ways)

[personal profile] brickinthewall 2017-05-22 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
[She grins, a little cruel, a whole lot flirtatious, all teeth exposed from behind her red lips.

In truth? She wanted no one in her head, and she didn't care to be in anyone's head either. It got her in bad spots. It made her give a shit when the last thing she wanted to find more things to lose. Hanna had lost enough. What's left is this shell that can set itself on fire and a brutally efficient mercenary.

None of this is buried, simply ignored, shoved aside in favor of what's expected of her.]


I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

[But what is there to say about her own mind when it's a riot of wildfire and lurking shadows passing through the red and orange flames? The sheer violence that comes off in waves?]
artifica: (smile)

[personal profile] artifica 2017-05-22 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ His response is the direct opposite of what she sought. Well, perhaps not quite. His response is the flip side of the coin she tosses in the air, wanting him to show gratitude and relief when instead she sees the other possibility: suspicion. Both were equally expected. Her mind does take the form of a puzzle. A complex maze made of plain hallways with red floors, black and white doors opening and closing, shifting places when one isn't paying attention. Everything about it feels clinical, synthetic, but there's intent in the way her maze transforms itself.

She tips her head to one side in question. ]


Because I want you to feel safer.

[ Ava can sound so naive, so earnest, the connection between their minds betraying nothing but a persistent sort of curiosity. She smiles, an amused sort, an almost-laugh in her voice. ]

Is it me you are afraid of?
calhar: (74)

[personal profile] calhar 2017-05-22 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ Most of the women he knows like to pretend they aren't dangerous, as if that'll make him forget. He always found that dishonesty grating, sometimes patronizing. He isn't sure this is an improvement.

While she's got her trusty sticks, he has a strange, black spear. He carries it whenever it isn't too conspicuous to get away with it, and a dead city's fair game. Mat sets the end of it against the ground, leaning some of his weight on it in an effort to look nonchalant — and like that glimpse into her head isn't horrifying, which it sort of is. ]


I'll pass on that.

[ It reminds him a bit of Rand, though the bright, winding colors that go along with thoughts of his friend are more disorienting than violent. This is both, and his eyes narrow in thought as he watches her, expression turning critical. ]

Are you mad?

[ .... angry, he means, because that's what it feels like. Once he's said it, he realizes that either meaning applies just as well. She doesn't feel particularly stable, either. ]
calhar: (38)

[personal profile] calhar 2017-05-22 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ Safer. As much as he wants to doubt the sentiment, it's hard to challenge this kind of honesty. He can feel that she means it, that it's all simple, curious intent. It's off putting, if only because it makes it difficult to be properly annoyed.

Mat's gaze drifts back to the symbol for a moment, taking in the details at scale. There's nothing reassuring in that symbol. The weight of the medallion is reassuring, though; like the weight of a shield on your arm. It's the difference between something tangible and superstition. ]


Burn you. [ He says it without much hostility, petty and quiet. ] You have no city, and you talk to— [ A brief pause, grasping for alien words. ] Machines. And you're in my head, which would make anyone bloody anxious.

[ So yes, basically. ]
brickinthewall: (side eye)

[personal profile] brickinthewall 2017-05-23 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
[She shrugs noncommittally.]

Not anymore than usual.

[Which means, yes, she's mad. All the time. It's more of a blinding rage, really, and at its core a loss and a sadness she can't seem to let go.

As well as the other mad, too.]


Let's just get this done. Do you know what you're doing?
calhar: (25)

[personal profile] calhar 2017-05-23 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ Nobody should be so comfortable about being mad. That's more jarring than madness, honestly, and the answer only makes him wary. ]

Burn me, no. Of course I don't know what I'm doing.

[ He's out of his element. He has been since he woke up on the station, and there's no shame in admitting that. But she isn't asking because she's worried about his existential status; she's asking about the mission. Mat takes his weight off the spear, tugging absently at the black scarf around his neck. ]

I'm looking, same as you. What else are we supposed to do?

[ Actually use the panels to open a door or two, probably. Use technology to track strange items or energy sources. There's a scanner in the pocket of his coat, the same one the rest of the team got. He hasn't touched it. ]
brickinthewall: (side eye)

[personal profile] brickinthewall 2017-05-27 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
[If there's one thing that's more frightening than a madwoman, it's likely a madwoman with extensive black ops and military-oriented skills.

Hanna sighs.]


Move, freshmeat. You're going to get us killed.

[Though there's not a particular sense of caring about it coming from her.]

Watch the doors. We need to get through to move forward and I'm not counting on those doors being flammable. You got that tracker on you?

[Because she hasn't forgotten. She might be a human disaster, but she's still a mercenary and a soldier. Missions are her language.]
fusrodaaaah: (Default)

The Dragonborn | TES: V Skyrim

[personal profile] fusrodaaaah 2017-06-10 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
(( Please forgive the lack of icons atm; here's a basic idea of his coloring. Amelius is a lizard-person. Average sized, with a tail and wearing armor. He has a physical symbiote ability, most likely, but I haven't figured out what it is. Nervous, twitchy, and likes cooking potions and food. Can also Shout someone across a room, whoops. ))

STATION ; EXPLORE
[A bipedal reptile in golden armor, carting around a sword and shield is probably not the usual, even for this station. He's crouched, hood pulled up over his face in lieu of a helmet, attempting to stick to whatever shadows he can find.]

[And probably looks ridiculous.]

[This is like nothing he's ever seen before. Not even the dusty halls of Dwemer ruins can compare. He doesn't know how he got here -- one moment he was talking (or rather rambling) to Paarthurnax, with the old dragon listening patiently, occasionally interjecting. And the next he was here?]

[It's even more terrifying than that first conversation with Meridia, in the skies. More than the Falmer.]

[But eventually, he finds the pool. And yellow, reptilian eyes light up. He's suddenly pulling his armor off, leaving it in a haphazard pile. And diving in.]

[Naked.]

[That's the Argonian way.]




PLANETSIDE ; RUN
[Amelius is screaming.]

[That's nothing new. But now there's no Thu'um to save him. He's just running for his life, in full armor. As the ground starts to crumble underneath him. Maybe, though, just maybe...]


Wuld... Nah-Kest!

[The words crack with power. Far more than his original shrieking. And, lo and behold, the Argonian begins sprinting like a whirlwind. His feet barely seeming to touch the ground.]


WILDCARD
[throw your own prompt I'm open to anything!]
Edited 2017-06-10 06:16 (UTC)
tentatively: fanart icons belong to me (Default)

[personal profile] tentatively 2017-06-22 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
( is this post still open for tags by any chance? )
fittestsurvival: <user name=bubblemilk site=livejournal.com> (Default)

Joichiro Nishi | Gantz

[personal profile] fittestsurvival 2017-06-26 04:22 pm (UTC)(link)
RHO - INTIMIDATION R1
+ Can suggest and coerce one other person to do something using fear.
- Must be in line of sight. Must use telepathy. Can only be used on one person at a time. Can be heard and interrupted by others. Lower-ranked telepathy can be faulty; extreme suggestions take longer (i.e. "kill yourself"). Fine print: migraines, partial blindness, malaise.


Station 72
Far away and fuzzy. Maybe it's staticky, interdimensional radio signals. A young, male voice says, it's just keeping them alive anyway like he's three galaxies over.

The further down the hexagonal hall you travel, the louder the initial thunking becomes. Rhythmic. A thunk,
a pause, another thunk, and then the quiet synthetic squeeze of gloves. You come out at the nesting deck, and the voice is right in the middle of your ears.

useless until it wants something
the rest of them can be idiots if they want


A boy in an odd, skin-tight black suit is sitting on an organic hump. He's tossing something back and forth between the neighboring wall, an emerald orb that he catches and throws, catches and throws. He glances up, feeling you, and the green ball rolls into the palm of his hand as it comes back.

You can see that it's an eyeball.

How much does a pirate pay for corn? A buccaneer.
[It feels like a drawn-out fetch quest. Joichiro and you are only trying to get the subtly radioactive material that will power what needs to be powered. But you both had to talk to one person, then they needed this, but to get this, you both had to talk to another person and they needed that, but to get that...

The pirates are peddling a brick of herbal aphrodisiac that's really a highly concentrated poison. They're being picky. Joichiro is too tired to bother using his "gift" to get what is needed.

His finger pulls the bottom trigger on the x-gun long before he raises it; the delay in firing is atrocious.]
Blah, blah. No moron has to pay that for your shitty excuse of a drug if you're dead. [By the time it's pointed in the pirate's face, the charge is glowing on the skin. The pirate's face is lasered into four sections and explodes.

Hope you're ready for a fight; the rest of the crew is now up in arms.]
brickinthewall: (Default)

hanna king // original

[personal profile] brickinthewall 2017-06-28 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
((hanna king is, to put it mildly, unhinged and hellbent on revenge. she's fully self-aware of what she has done and will do in her life is wrong, but has not a single care about it. as it stands she will use this perception of her being off the rails to her advantage and even play it up on purpose for the hell of it. underneath the revenge streak is a lot of pain and depression of having lost everything, and the very little regard she has for herself these days. she just Cares Too Much and doesn't know how to stop caring even though she'll tell you she doesn't care. also she's a pyromancer, aka a pyro in her very fucked up world. don't ask me about her symbiote i haven't gotten that far))

what is you doin?
[Hanna isn't exactly what you'd call Keeping Low. No, not with the way her tank top shows her distinctive hawk wings on the back of her arms, or the mottled bruises forming on her chest and chin. Pirates got on the wrong side of harassment tonight. Pirates got the right side of her now-scabbing fist.

Death comes in threes, so they say. And it's three pirates that start to loom about her. Along with another three. They seem to want to jump her. There's a bit of a tell in how stupidly they start to gang up in the middle of the neon-lit street, around the woman with blond messy hair and deadened green eyes.]


Why is it always the stupid ones that come after me?

[She throws a punch, straight into a pirate's jaw.

It's on now, it's on like Donkey Kong.]


congratulations you played yourself
[As was and apparently remains typical of Hanna, she's on some kind of escort duty. Of her team, she'd always been the one-woman wrecking crew, the tank that could set herself on fire. She'd always play decoy and do the worst of the damage. Hanna was under no suspicion that she was smart.]

Hey, you think you could hurry it up there?

[Because time's running out.

Nope, it ran out. The alarms start to go off in the sterling white and silver compound. Whatever happened, didn't happen right.]


Fuck me.

[Without warning, she blasts fire at the doors with her bare right hand. Her left hand holds a compound bow (which she has named Lucy), and strapped to her back are two fighting sticks (aptly named her Dead Lead Sticks) and a quiver full of arrows (Diamonds, as it were).]

Start running unless you want to get covered in holes!

blanket burrito
[By now Hanna's so tired she's given up on finding a destination to sleep. She's given up on the notion of a beer, and all she's got is one half-empty box of cigarettes that she's not really up to using at this moment.

There's a bandage wrapped around her right forearm, and a few wrapped around her fingers, but the bruises seem to be lessening now. She's tired. She wants to sleep. But the adrenaline in her body refuses to wear out. What she'd give to drink herself into a dreamless stupor.

With a heavy, resigned sigh, she drops onto something that might pass for a bed, might not. She stares up at the ceiling, trying to will herself to sleep, and failing. A hand goes up into the air front of her. A tiny flame lights up, dances across her tattooed knuckles. The link in her mind is a damn riot of rage, so it's no small wonder she can't calm down enough to sleep.

Eventually, she does fall asleep. And it's probably your bed. You can kick her ass out. You should probably kick her ass out.]
Edited 2017-06-28 06:14 (UTC)
moremischievous: (silly; here's an idea!)

[personal profile] moremischievous 2017-06-28 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
( sure thing! i'm on hiatus at the moment though, so i'll be a bit tagging back )
tentatively: fanart icons belong to me (the sun laughed coldly)

the melted world

[personal profile] tentatively 2017-06-29 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
( That's perfectly fine with me! I don't mind slow tags. )

U-Uh.. [Yunoha is a few feet away from Hikaru, eyes flickering all around her nervously. She's taking in the distorted, desolate world, arms tightening around her green plushie, Tama. She takes the moment to glance over at her the teen, eyebrows furrowed.]

( T-This place is scary. I don't like it. )

[It was far too quiet for her tastes- but it was also saddening to see that a planet had become as cold and dreary like it was now. Despite the nervousness of being in an unknown place, she's grateful that she has somebody from her brood with her, no matter how closed off and cold he was to her. Her boot nudges a piece of what used to be a rock away from her, fingers fiddling with the yellow scarf around Tama's neck. Her mind travels back to her homeplanet, vega. No matter how much she tries, memories of her friends come to mind- their flashing smiles, the times spent together at school. Loneliness is seeping through her pores and her fingers tighten around Tama.

Jin.. what am I supposed to do now? The boy in question appears like a flicker of a candle just like she remembers him; soft eyes and a tiny smile. That same boy appears but only with blood trickling down his forehead; the life in his eyes dimming slowly but even then he still smiles at her, all soft and warm. She is quick to shut down her mind on that particular memory, the tiny teen shuffling on her feet tensely.]


W-We c-can.. uhm.. go b-back to the station.. [She squirms on her feet, eyes peering over Tama's head at Hikaru. She's biting down on her bottom lip, fingers twisting into the green plush.] I-If you want..
quintet: (Default)

Quintet | Nature of Nature's Art

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-05 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
I. In the Shadow of the Valley of Death: the station
Quintet had learned a great many things since arriving at the Station. She had learned about the way scent does or does not interact with smooth metal surfaces, with tile, with plastic. She had learned about the stars, about flight, and machines, and about the idea of undeath. Quintet had even learned a thing or two about hair, which wasn't something she would have predicted, but then, why not? Why the hell not?

This place was a madhouse.

And the worst part of it was the food. There was so much of it, and it was all so hard to access. You might have to pay for food back home, but in the end it was just food. It was there, and then you ate it! Every food in this place was a tough nut to crack, encapsulated in a shell or a box or a thick layer of lacrima.

"Hey!" This directed at you, the poor fool who just walked into the food storage center. Quintet is sitting on the countertop, wrestling with a by-now somewhat mangled plastic packaging that surrounds a portion of fish jerky, "This thing is giving me a headache. Help me out, here."



I. Though I Linger In Darkness, I Have Seen The Light: space, there's such a lot of it
[If there's such a thing as a comforting void, this is it. Quintet's been here all day, lounging, or sitting, or curled up into a comfortable crouch. She doesn't know what it is about this, the view, the stars, the endless down-down-down of it all, but she can't help but love it. Sure, there's nothing but a force-field between the inside of the hangar and the outside of the hangar, but that's for someone else to worry about. It works, is the important thing.]

It's so big. I wonder why they don't sparkle. [She's not stupid enough to reach out a paw and touch the interface between inside and out, but the urge is there, tempting. She looks up, hearing someone's approach.] Oh. Hey, come check this out. It's amazing stuff.
greentech: (oro?)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-08 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
"Huh?"

Pidge has a biscuit in her mouth and a few other things in her hands - just enough to make it a bit awkward for her to juggle her stuff and come over to see what's going on. There's a... creature she doesn't recognize. It looks like a cat, but it can't be a cat. Right? But it's talking to her. And asking for help. She sets her stuff down and leans against the counter, reaching out a hand for the packaging.

"No thumbs must be a pain, huh?"
quintet: (read my eyebrows: STFU)

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-08 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
"It wouldn't be if there were decent food options!" Quintet is quick with the retort, "Let's see you do better."

No one's in their best mood when they're hungry. And tired. And sore-mouthed. And a talking cat? No, Pidge, you're not hallucinating. And as soon as you get that package open, she'll be a nicer one.

"Hey, thanks guy," Her gratitude is almost an afterthought, but genuine enough, "Writing would be easier, at least. Most people with forelimbs like that can't fight, though-- not really."
greentech: (Shwing)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-08 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"Most of the food here seems designed for people with thumbs and two legs. Sorry about that," Pidge sounds a little amused at the conversation, even as she tears the package open and dumps some of the jerky out onto the counter for Quintet. She rummages around for a plate while she's at it and voila - one plate of jerky. That finished, she leans against the counter and eyes Quintet with a sense of curiosity.

"I don't know about that. I'm not the best fighter in the world, but I'm still pretty handy."
quintet: (this is either the smartest idea ever)

[personal profile] quintet 2017-07-09 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Well sure, but you're an ape."

There's a silence as she chews. The jerky is tough and it takes some chewing, but Quintet is feeling the hunger that makes any meal delicious. Food preservation isn't unheard of in her society, but salt jerky? Sun-drying is the usual way. This isn't just a meal, it's an experience.

"Most people with thumbs aren't that big, you know?" A paw held low to indicate a size of a mere few inches, "Rodents. They make good markscrafts, though. Bet your race doesn't have that problem-- you are an ape, right?"
greentech: (For your consideration)

[personal profile] greentech 2017-07-09 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Human, actually. We're related to apes, but we're not actually apes," Pidge corrects absent-mindedly, "We're both primates though, so hey, close enough I guess. I'm not an expert on biology though..."

Pidge cocks her head curiously and scratches her chin. That's different and sort of strange. She shrugs, "Where I'm from, most humans are, uh, a lot bigger than that. So we didn't have that problem - at least we haven't had it for thousands of years, anyway. We're sort of on top of the food-chain now."

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