[In the northeast wing Molly wakes up and immediately goes rigid. The capsule-like shape of the cot is a bit unpleasant and there's something kind of fucked up to wake up and see nothing but silver. It sets off a panic response that goes bone-deep, a half-remembered trauma of waking up with dirt in his face and having to crawl out of a shallow grave.
Needless to say... Not a great feeling. He leaps off the cot and staggers back a bit, trying to get his bearings, and probably tripping over someone in the process because he's more focused on trying to get an idea of what's in front of him rather than what he's backing into.] Sorry, sorry. Is- Is this normal? Is that how it happens every time?
[He's not anxious. You're anxious.]
(π½πΎ) π΄ππΈπ
[The rest of the ship isn't much better, Molly is learning. The windows are startling and give him a sick feeling in his stomach and the whole place is confined and unpleasant, and he's found himself pacing restlessly, hand in his pocket, worrying his cards a bit. If there was ever a good time to do a reading, it'd be now when he's out among the bloody celestial bodies, themselves, but that would require him to sit down and stop moving.
He keeps getting turned around, and he keeps losing track of where people are, which is worse. That's how he finds the EXIT, and that's how he meets with a most unpleasant series of events that send him skittering back the way he came. As soon as he notices someone else, he tries to fan out his coat and look like he didn't just tear down a hall like a frightened child.] Hi.
[So casual.] Is it just me or is this place awful?
[Closed doors are always a problem, and Molly only has a rogue who can pick locks, and nothing on his person, but that's fine. There's a simple solution and that solution is... Stand in front of a door, tilting your head and looking puzzled and someone will be along to offer assistance.
Works every damn time.
And should they not stop, he'll even throw out a:] D'you have something that might get this open? Or punch it open? I'm not really picky.
π»πΎππ½πΆπ΄ π»πΈππ°ππ³
[You can count on a character from a Dungeons and Dragons-based society to do one thing in a crisis: loot. And Molly hasn't started tearing the place apart yet, but he has been wandering around the lounge looking for anything that looks interesting and trying to find any kind of secret compartments or hidden treasures. It's the reasonable thing to do when faced with an abandoned place.
To an average person... It looks like there's a purple horned devil-looking person sticking his hands in everything and poking his head places and occasionally pocketing things as he finds them. It's fine. This is normal behavior.]
MOLLYMAUK TEALEAF | OTA
[In the northeast wing Molly wakes up and immediately goes rigid. The capsule-like shape of the cot is a bit unpleasant and there's something kind of fucked up to wake up and see nothing but silver. It sets off a panic response that goes bone-deep, a half-remembered trauma of waking up with dirt in his face and having to crawl out of a shallow grave.
Needless to say... Not a great feeling. He leaps off the cot and staggers back a bit, trying to get his bearings, and probably tripping over someone in the process because he's more focused on trying to get an idea of what's in front of him rather than what he's backing into.] Sorry, sorry. Is- Is this normal? Is that how it happens every time?
[He's not anxious. You're anxious.]
(π½πΎ) π΄ππΈπ
[The rest of the ship isn't much better, Molly is learning. The windows are startling and give him a sick feeling in his stomach and the whole place is confined and unpleasant, and he's found himself pacing restlessly, hand in his pocket, worrying his cards a bit. If there was ever a good time to do a reading, it'd be now when he's out among the bloody celestial bodies, themselves, but that would require him to sit down and stop moving.
He keeps getting turned around, and he keeps losing track of where people are, which is worse. That's how he finds the EXIT, and that's how he meets with a most unpleasant series of events that send him skittering back the way he came. As soon as he notices someone else, he tries to fan out his coat and look like he didn't just tear down a hall like a frightened child.] Hi.
[So casual.] Is it just me or is this place awful?
ππ·π΄ π³πΎπΎπ (πΈπ πΎπΏπ΄π½?)
[Closed doors are always a problem, and Molly only has a rogue who can pick locks, and nothing on his person, but that's fine. There's a simple solution and that solution is... Stand in front of a door, tilting your head and looking puzzled and someone will be along to offer assistance.
Works every damn time.
And should they not stop, he'll even throw out a:] D'you have something that might get this open? Or punch it open? I'm not really picky.
π»πΎππ½πΆπ΄ π»πΈππ°ππ³
[You can count on a character from a Dungeons and Dragons-based society to do one thing in a crisis: loot. And Molly hasn't started tearing the place apart yet, but he has been wandering around the lounge looking for anything that looks interesting and trying to find any kind of secret compartments or hidden treasures. It's the reasonable thing to do when faced with an abandoned place.
To an average person... It looks like there's a purple horned devil-looking person sticking his hands in everything and poking his head places and occasionally pocketing things as he finds them. It's fine. This is normal behavior.]