welcome to the horologium.

[acatamods]

I ▫ main IV ▫ premise       XI ▫ applications XIV ▫ activity II ▫ logs V ▫ rules VII ▫ bestiary   IX ▫ canon updates XII ▫ taken XV ▫ drop/hiatus III ▫ ooc VI ▫ faq VIII ▫ setting   X ▫ mods XIII ▫ reserves XVI ▫ players welcome to the horologium. Some of you know it is coming. The World Jump, the chaotic thrust into a new universe. But some of you are new, and though you know what the mission is, it is a bit . . . troubling, sitting around and waiting for something to happen. But eventually, you get a message on your watch. It shows Astoria . . . dark hair framing her features, her voice light and musical. She sounds like herself, for the first time in some time . . . that spark of determination back in her eyes. A MESSAGE FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD WITCH. "It is time, my beloved Travelers, to go to our new destination . . . and I want you to know that I have the utmost faith in you. Akvos' loss has hurt us all, and I know that many of you doubt our mission. But please believe me when I say that you have done the best job anyone could ask of you. Akvos' destruction was not your fault . . . and to our newest members of our Circle, welcome to our journey. I can only hope that your journey here will work out to the benefit of us all." That being said, you are journeying to the Horologium . . . it is a ship that has sent out a distress beacon. I am not sure when, or where, but I can feel great darkness, emanating from that place. I believe you all can combat what is done there, without interacting with the Void . . . so please, be safe, and I will see you all when you return." And, just like that, there is a pull in your stomach . . . your vision blacks out and you feel the sudden sense of vertigo, a sensation of falling, and then . . . nothingness. You open your eyes, and you are suddenly waking up in the midst of . . . fog? THE AWAKENING. When you wake, you are greeted by metal — there’s an expanse of silver all around you. The cot you’re laying on is somewhat rigid, like a flattened wedge of cotton more than anything, encased in a capsule-like structure. Should you inspect your surroundings, you’ll find that there are three more cots in your room..or more notably, another person in the room in of itself. Depending on where you’ve been roused from your slumber, however, you’ll find that your circumstances differ. ➜ If you’ve woken up in the northeast wing of the ship, there seems to be a pool of saturated pink goo at your feet. It sticks to the bottom of your heel and collects at the very center of the room, oozing from the cracks and crevices within the metal lining of the walls. And even more notably, the goo has a particularly saccharine scent, as though it’s meant to be...consumed. Looks like you had the misfortune of waking up in the wing adjacent to the kitchen. ➜ In the northwest wing, the ship is functioning at an all time low. When you wake, the room is illuminated for a brief moment...before flickering out, only to leave you in pitch darkness. Power returns to the room intermittently and only for a few seconds at most, but it appears as though you and your newfound roommates will have to navigate the darkness if you want to leave. ➜ In the southwest wing, the fire alarm in your room has been activated for some inexplicable reason. It’s an obnoxiously loud siren that slices right through the whirring of the machinery around you — and it goes as far as to trigger the sprinklers hanging from the ceiling. Water sprays from above you, hopefully ensuring that you’ve woken up if nothing else has. It doesn’t seem to be draining either, so it may be for the best that you escape with some haste. ➜ In the southeast wing, your circumstances are for the most part rather unremarkable. An untouched room, mostly intact...until you try to open the door. It won’t budge — unless you have some form of super strength, your muscle power is rendered useless on its own. You might just have to commission someone else to help you... Beyond your room, the word “Horologium.” stretches across the wall. Welcome to your new home. WHISPERS IN THE DARK. In a way, it feels as though you’re suspended in time. The ship is always humming, always whirring as it makes a haphazard attempt to function. The noise comes to a halt every so often, leaving you with nothing but silence and the idle creaking of the floor beneath you. There are remarkably large, bright white doors that divide each and every wing. A circular window is positioned at the center of all 4 of these doors: but nothing can be seen through it. It’s likeness is that of a black hole’s, like someone had gone as far as to paint over it. On every door, the same word is emblazoned in black lettering: EXIT. Except the word itself appears to be scratched out to some degree — as though it were scrubbed out in a fit of desperation but remained no less. When you see the door, you might be overcome with excitement. Or perhaps not. Regardless of what your reaction is like, the lights around you will dim and flicker at an alarming frequency. For a moment, it’s almost as though the gravity around you has slowed, and the hallways are becoming narrower by the second.. Voices and faces from the past emerge in your mind. You see someone you shouldn’t; they’re calling for you. They’re here with you right now, beckoning you to come closer... If you reach the door and attempt to open it, it won’t budge. And the further you walk away from it, the more the effects will subside. But there’s no telling if you’ll sleep well tonight. INVESTIGATIONS The ship is fitted to house approximately 500 people — it’s a bit of a ghost town, however, lived in but abandoned no less. The chairs are in the mess hall aren’t aligned perfectly. The tables are a bit crooked. The lounge is lofty, but not pristine. The rooms may be barren, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that they were somehow someone else’s before they became yours. There’s an array of locked doors, varying in sizes and shapes, all of which withhold something potentially useful to you. You may be inclined to visit the lounge, the mess hall, rifle through the bedrooms . . . the ship is yours to explore. However, how you interact with the ship is….entirely up to you. There is something to be found everywhere. Regardless of what you do, where you investigate and how, you might be tempted to look behind your shoulder. After all, every decision you make matters...right? (Every Player’s investigation prompt has the potential to differ greatly as your investigation will require mod input. We encourage you to ask as many questions as you would like, we are here to help and provide you with the information necessary.) Additionally, please feel free to write up and work with your own prompts! These areas of the world are presented as jumping off points for your characters, not limitations. The idea of this world- as with all the others- is to explore -- you may use as much leeway as you want in order to come up with what your character will do. If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask them back on the various threads back in the OOC post from before!

Comments

HISOKA the magician

[flimsylies]

BREAD CRUMBS - GENERAL WILDCARD OTA

[ He had not waited for the others in his wing to wake up, he doesn't hang around wondering where he is or what's going on. He just gets up and starts wandering around. After a few hallways, he seems to establish just how large a place he's in. He stops. He would normally leave a mark of bungee gum somewhere and trail it along to keep track of his progress, but that witchess has taken his nen. Bitch that she is.

He smooths back his hair, a gesture of thoughtful nonchalance. Lacking the immaterial, he will just have to make do with the material that he has on hand. The first toy he summons up is a classic teddy bear. He tosses it over his shoulder as he continues down the hallway. A few more paces and then another toy, which he also carelessly throws. Then another. And another.

Lacking bread crumbs, it will do. ]

LOCKED DOOR - STANDARD OTA

[ He is sitting on the floor, picking the lock of a small door with the bayonet of an olive green little toy solider... And it's all that work for nothing but cleaning supplies, although he doesn't seem bothered by the disappointment. ]

LOCKED DOOR - HEAVY OTA

[ The large door, he pries open with his bare hands. His back and shoulders flexing. He is very, scarily, strong. It's not enough to be 6'6 with clown makeup on despite the otherwise drab clothes, he's also gotta be monstrously built too????

➜ INSIDE THE DOOR: "With the more difficult, smaller doors and an excess of brute force, he'll discover a pair of walkie talkies (lacking in batteries), a survival knife and a box of matches. Try not to kill someone too quickly. There also appears to be flavor packets for the "space goo". They come in roast beef, cherry and birthday cake. Enjoy...?"

The knife he takes, it disappears into his clothing immediately. The rest he pokes at lazily, although he does declare: ]

Birthday cake. Sounds delicious.

[ He going to hoard them. But you can have the rest. ]

THE HOLE - FOR HOLE PEOPLE

[ There had been a few people, peering curiously into the depths of the lift shaft. Discussing civilly what the best plan of action was for its exploration. This... interested him very little. ]

Let's see, hmm?

[ And he simply steps off into the dark and falls. He falls for a long time with no sign of a bottom, he counts his heartbeats calmly to keep track of the seconds, and he knows well enough that it's been much too long, that if he were to hit the bottom now the impact would shatter his legs. But he hasn't made impact yet, so he twists and slaps out a hand to grab at a dangling cable. His body slamming into the shaft isn't even audible to those above. His shoulder popping out of place is extremely audible to him, however. It dangles uselessly at his side as he hangs on to the cable with the remaining limb.

How... irritating. He gets his feet onto the cable as well and begins the boring process of working his way back up. Lacking either hand, he has no real way to manipulate his comm and let them know he's coming. Maybe they'll just assume he's dead, it doesn't matter...

When he finally drags himself back out of the shaft, his first action is to sickeningly snap his arm back into place. He doesn't flinch, and indeed just smiles. What... a fucking creep. ]

We'll need to plan more carefully, to reach the bottom. What do you think they've quarantined away down there?

I'm a hole person.

[rightfully]

- wait.

[ It's cried out the moment he takes that step back. Lucina's entire body jerks forward to grab him, at the wrist or by whatever bit of clothing is most near by. She ends up swiping at empty air as he disappears into the deep blackness. Already, her sense of caution is in overdrive - they don't know what's down there or how deep the hole even goes - there's investigation; and then there's probable suicide.

She waits the (what we can assume is) literal hours it takes for him to fall and then climb back up, with one of those processes taking a bit longer than the other. It's enough time for the intense worry to dull into a base sense of concern, and then for a faint sense of boredom to kick in.

And then he comes back.

And she yells at him. ]

That was utterly reckless! What were you thinking!?

[foundafamily]

[Waking Up | Northeast]

[The pod opens, and Firo comes up swinging. The lull in between waking and the release of the pod gave him time to 1. grab his knife in his right hand and 2. decide that anyone hanging around while he can’t see is bad news. So up he pops like a vengeful jack in the box, sliding out of the pod and throwing out his left arm to try and closeline anyone who might be standing near the pod.

(Incidentally, in his single-minded focus, he’s definitely going to step right in that pink goo.)

If you’re close by, you may want to watch out. If you’re not, enjoy him looking like a loon.

Welcome to the new world!]

[Kitchen]

[Figuring that they’re in for the long haul, the kitchen and mess hall is one of Firo’s first stops. He scans the area to get a general idea of the supplies, finally coming across some of the un-reconstituted goo food. It’s not the form of the food that troubles him so much as the quantity—who knows how long they’ll be here.]

We’re not gonna starve immediately, but this doesn’t look great.

[And then there’s the water…]

[Exit Door]

[Exit, huh? No way Firo’s not checking that out. He slows as the lights flicker, then braces one arm against the wall. The hallways that he hadn’t minded a moment ago suddenly feel like they’re caving in—and then there’s a voice. Ennis? But she shouldn’t be here and—

He stops short of the door and whirls around—]

Who’s there?

[Is someone there? Maybe you are, but, given the wild look in Firo’s eyes, you’re probably not who he expected.]

[Wildcard]

[ooc: Feel free to throw something else at me or hit me up to plot something else out!]

kitchen

[fuck1ngusernam3]

I don’t know, Sumo likes it.

[Hank leans in the doorway behind him, having only walked up halfway into Firo’s sentence.]

But yeah, the menu here fuckin sucks. It looks like someone ate a bunch of bubble gum and got a bad case of the shits.

lady ILDE

[invasif]

WAKING UP - THE NORTHWEST WING

[ It is pitch black, but if you wake up in some tandem with Ilde it will never be quite that. The charm around her neck glows, and she unclasps the chain to lift the ball of still burning cinders overhead, to make it easier to see. It shines on her face, pale and grim. ]

Are you alright? I can make further light, but it will have an effect upon you.

WHISPERS IN THE DARK

[ Something this modern is not familiar to her, at all. She gets lost almost immediately upon wandering off on her own. This doesn't frighten her, precisely. She can still hear Circle members chattering intermittently on the comm, she can call for help if she truly can't find a way back...

She pauses as she hears some unfamiliar sound, as her mind turns that constant whirring into voices singing or murmuring... The human mind is very good at that and she frowns. She lifts her hand to touch the charm around her neck for comfort. ]

Who's there?

[ Her voice is small but stern in the empty hallways. ]

A DREAM OF GARDENS

[ As soon as she hears a garden has been found, she wants to see it. But her dismay shows almost immediately when she gets there and sees the state of it. There's no one to blame, there's no one here to tend to it, but it disturbs her all the same. ]

No, no, no...

[ She whispers, reaching out to touch many of the plants individually, like acknowledging unique children. She digs her fingertips into the soil... It feels dry more than anything else, smells earthy enough for her to assume the plants simply haven't been watered or weeded in much, much too long.

First, she tries to invigorate them with her Astoria-power. Lights swirl around her like little faeries, but rather than reaching out to invigorate the plants, they stay around her. They clearly think they have nowhere to go, nothing to do. She gives up quickly, instead deciding, ]

It will have to be worked on by hand...

[ Tending the garden isn't why they're here, at all, but she rolls up her sleeves and starts on it almost immediately. ]

gardens;

[adelphoi]

[ a garden is certainly among the more interesting sites to visit in this place, if only because it is a reminder of earth and stone and solid ground. incredible and impressive as this massive ship might be, alisaie is a simple girl who, in the end, prefers her feet on the ground.

a shame, however, that it seems as if the plants have been disregarded a little too long, even if it gives them a bit of a clue to how long it has been since the ship's denizens mysteriously disappeared..

anyway, here she is, hovering in the doorway for a moment to survey the space, but it soon becomes apparent that she is not alone. after watching in silence for several long moments, alisaie finally approaches, a deep crease in her brow as she surveys the wilted leaves. crossing her arms, she frowns thoughtfully. ]

Are they able to be salvaged?

[ she's definitely thinking about food opportunities here.. ]

Sheryl Nome

[fairysong]

[I: Awakening (NW)]

[She's tempted to just tell Astoria that the witch can solve her own damn problems after what had happened on Akvos, but Sheryl holds her tongue, because what will lashing out really accomplish at all.

Given where they'd just been, she's expecting a nautical vessel when Astoria says "ship," not something in space. Then the world gives way beneath her mind, and she wakes up--

--in a cot.

Somehow, Sheryl knows within moments that this isn't an oceanic ship, but one like she's familiar with. The gray metal bulkheads, the rigid cots, even the design of the door, the soft buzz under her feet. This is space. They're in space.

It feels nostalgic in a way she hadn't known she'd missed. The room feels familiar.

Then all the lights go out, and she yelps, reflexively. Only to call out:]

Is anyone else here? Can anyone hear me?

[She'll use her music, if she has to.]

[II: Ace Attorney Investigations]

[Sheryl genuinely hadn't realized how much she'd missed being out among the stars.

Granted, this ship is a far cry from the comforts of the Macross Frontier, or even the cold industrial factory city of the Macross Galaxy. It's much more in line with something like the Quarter-- she wonders if it, too, was a military ship.

But she'd missed home. She'd missed seeing starfields. She'd missed microgravity... even if they don't have that here. Honestly, she's curious what's generating the gravity, since it doesn't feel like centrifugal force, but it's clearly active, despite the intermittent power elsewhere on the ship.

Everything else, though, is super damn creepy. Including all these locked doors.

There has to be something behind them, right?

So you may come across the Galactic Fairy taking a hairpin and unbending it to form a makeshift lockpick, working at the lock of a nearby room. You may not have expected this skill from the diva, but it looks like she has it all the same.]

It's... a little weird that they're using old-fashioned locks like this here. Maybe they're backups in case the power went out?

[She muses, chewing her lip while focusing on the door.]

[III: My God, It's Full of Stars]

[The dining hall is hardly a home for fine cuisine, but it does have something the rest of the ship doesn't: A view of the outside.

And that same nostalgia is what brings Sheryl here to the large window out to the inky black of space, peppered with white dots. She puts her hand on the transparent panel-- she wonders what it's made of-- and just looks out past her reflection into the great beyond.

Granted, it's not an especially impressive starfield, but it makes her miss her home nonetheless.

Then she realizes something, and frowns, before saying out loud:]

...it isn't moving.

[That's all she volunteers.]

[adelphoi]

[ once again, the food here is super duper disappointing. what's up with that?? why can't they ever visit a world in need that has renowned cuisine?? alisaie grew up on rather tepid fare herself, but since leaving sharlayan she had grown used to all manner of delicious foreign food.

now it seems they're back to goo again. she'll have to beg some scraps from konoha, at this rate.

anyway, she's leaving the kitchens in utter disappointment, stopping by the large viewing window on the way because it's a sight she cannot seem to get enough of. ]

.. moving?

[weremongoose]

[ 1a. Waking Up (Southeast) ]

[Awake and in a strange place. Well, here they are. The room is clearly more than modern (at least what he'd consider modern) and not exactly comforting. Barabas is quite keen to leave it. Now.

Trying the door and finding it stuck is met with a frown.] Wonderful.

[He spends another moment or so fiddling with it before sighing. You know what? Fine. If there's anyone else in the room he'll murmur a quiet,]

Please excuse me for a moment. [Before well, starting to strip. Like it's totally normal. He folds his clothes carefully and sets them on the cot he awoke in. And then the shift starts. Muscles and bone resort themselves, fur appearing over his skin. And he grows. When the transformation is done, in place of the lithe redhead is a large, monstrous mix of man and hyena, nearly seven feet tall, red-eyed. Well, he will hand it to Astoria that the hyena form is stronger and larger than the one he'd known for his entire life previous. Maybe it'll come in handy.]

All right. [He speaks, and the words are intelligible and mostly clear, but a bit off, as his mouth is no longer quite human-shaped. And he turns his attention to tearing the door open.]


[ 1b. Waking Up (Southeast) ]

[Or maybe you're outside when Barabas in his warrior form, all tooth and fur and claws and nightmare on two legs wins against the door and bursts into the hallway.]

...Horologium. [He reads the word aloud, voice a growl.] Latin. Interesting.


[ 2. Investigating the ship ]

[Still in his werehyena warrior form, Barabas appears to be... sniffing. He's making his way through the ship bit by bit, testing the air as he does. He checked out the kitchens, and there was not nearly enough good to keep them for any stretch of time.

So he's following his nose. Right now he's caught the scent of something. He's distracted enough that he may nearly run over anyone in his way, though he'll pull up short, flash a look full of far too many teeth.] Sorry. Didn't see you. I thought I smelled something.


[ 3. Kitchen ]

[Finally human again, Barabas has made his way to the kitchen, dropping to a seat. He's half-dressed, though his shirt is still in his hand. The transformation usually leaves him exhausted when he turns back, and today is no different.

Any movement will have him looking up with a weary smile.]

Find anything useful?


[ Wildcard ]

(( find Barabas around and about, or hit me at seasided or via PM if you want to plan something out ))

2

[nogoldenmirror]

[As he rounds the corner, a certain grey wolf yelps and jumps out of the way. Not necessary, but it's a good habit to keep at this point. Morrigan looks up at him, blinks twice, then grins. Well now, this is something.]

If it is damp and possibly reminiscent of plantlife? I smell it, too.

[She'd know the scent anywhere, but something seems... off. Just like the rest of this blasted place.]

Izuku Midoriya ("Deku")

[shootstyles]

Whispers in the Dark

[He hears Kacchan's voice. Finally! Finally, he's found his friend in this ridiculously large place. Now they can explore together, figure it out... The lights flicker, he pretends not to notice. The world around him seems distort as gravity slows and the hallway shrinks but he just keeps ignoring it. He can hear his friend, he can almost see him...

His hands slam against a door. Kacchan's voice is in his ear. His breath is shallow. The door reads "EXIT". He bites his lip, feeling a little confused. He tries the handle and then pulls at it furiously but it never budges. He steps back to get a better look at the door and the voice in his ear is quiets.

None of it was real. He's smart enough to figure that out and it chills him to the bone. He walks away even as his friend tells him to come back and then slowly fades. Kacchan wasn't the sort to beckon, really.

Izuku rounds the corner, drops into a crouch, and unsuccessfully fights back tears. Why would something like that be here...?]

Investigations

[Kacchan's gone and he doesn't want to think about it. So he finds something else to think about, like getting a door open and hopefully finding some water so they don't all dehydrate.

At first he tries to slam on the door open with his shoulder only to yelp in pain and stumble back. Next he tries to use an assortment of objects to pry it open, everything from silverware to a small lighter but nothing. Then he punches it a few times out of frustration and just bruises his knuckles.

Finally, he stares down the door, inhales, and turns around and roundhouse kicks the door with an inhuman strength. The door groans and deeply dents but doesn't open. Izuku stumbles over to the nearest trashcan and throws up.

But he doesn't seem surprised about that. In fact he's got a determined little grin on his face.]

So they're not impervious to damage at all. It just needs an above average force to make a dent in it. Alright... so my recovery time is about 8 hours or so. Which means that I can do it at least twice a day if I time it right...

[He probably looks a little crazy but he's determined to kick that sucker down. So determined, he doesn't really notice anyone approaching.]

Post Investigations!

[He finally manages to get that door open. FINALLY. He makes note of everything he finds, collects the important objects, and... now he's collapsed on the floor a little bit away from the door. Well, passed out is more like it. It's like he was planning on heading back to the lounge and then... simply got too tired and decided to curl up on the floor of the ship, laser knife from the room gripped tightly in his hand.

You should probably wake up and not let him sleep there.

Or you could... try to rob him... if you really wanted to.]

Wildcard

[Feel free to hit me up at mythal or on disco at trevelyan#6066!]

investigations

[guiltycharge]

[The sudden bang of metal from somewhere close by is. ambiguous enough to try and ignore. The sound of vomiting, on the other hand, is one Ritsu would recognise anywhere. It might not be urgent, but then again, it might be... Dropping the other plans in his head for now, he takes off down the dingy hallway at a run.

But all he finds in the direction he heard it from is some boy who doesn't look too far from his own age, muttering to himself. If he's the guy who just puked, he looks awfully happy about it.

Regardless, Ritsu comes to a halt before he can trip over whoever this is. There doesn't seem to be an emergency here, and treading in something unpleasant is not his idea of a good time. Plus, all the better to stop and stare in a very mildly judging way.]

Uh, excuse me... I heard someone throw up. Was that you? [Tactful.] Is everything okay?

merlin - ota.

[courtmagic]

awaken - northwest.

[[ooc: only accepting two tag ins for this prompt!]]

[this isn't where he fell asleep. that's for certain. before Merlin even opens his eyes. he can feel the difference in the bed he's in, that the softness he's used to isn't there, and something must have happened again. another world, so the message had said, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. still, he's intact, and breathing air this time - and so when the lights cut out, he closes his eyes again.]

Ten more minutes...

[let him doze a little. and process what to do first.]

investigations.

[really, he can be found everywhere, but he's not letting go of his staff as he does walking around. sometimes he's peering at a smaller locked door as if trying to gauge something from it. other times he's in the lounge, sprawled in one of the more comfortable chairs, hands occupied with something small and tricky, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

sometimes Merlin's in the mess hall, and taking advantage of the working light in there to be writing in a book, head bent over his work as his hand works over the page, pausing every now and then. and perhaps he found his way into the workout facility, where the lack of gravity is proving to be a bit of a problem, as he floats sort of in the middle of the air, looking vaguely put out by it all.]

time.

[of course, the pervading feeling in this place is that they're not alone. that something's out there, with the rumbling, with the inability to say when is when, with the limits on what they have. it's not easy, nor is it possible to really block it out.

Merlin's in the lounge when the next rumble happens, eyes closed and lying on one of the couches, and the Sound echoes through the ship. the electricity flickers, the world shakes - and his hand tightens just slightly on his staff.]

Something is waiting.

[he says it like it's a simple fact.]

wildcard.

[have a different idea? want something specific? hit me up!]

awaken

[silveren]

[ Merlin had always been quick to distance himself from humankind. He spoke of it as decidedly separate from himself, and corrected Bedivere whenever he offered words to the contrary. He was not human, and he could not truly understand their feelings.

But despite all his insistence, Bedivere could only think of the man sleeping soundly across the room as just that—a man. There was nothing alien in the unguarded expression, nothing unrecognizable in the relaxed lines of his face.

Regardless. ]

Merlin. I believe a sense of urgency is required of us.

[ The words may have come out harsh on their own, but he speaks them gently, intending only a light rousing. Without waiting for a response, he begins to search the room, opening drawers and rummaging through their contents. ]

MOLLYMAUK TEALEAF | OTA

[mollymocked]

𝙰𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴, 𝙾 𝚂𝙻𝙴𝙴𝙿𝙴𝚁

[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.]


(𝙽𝙾) 𝙴𝚇𝙸𝚃

[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?


𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙾𝚁 (𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽?)

[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.


𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳

[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.]

lounge lizard;

[adelphoi]

[ alisaie wouldn't consider herself the fun police sort, she's gotten herself into heaps of trouble in the past, and she will definitely get herself into heaps more in the future, but she's an honorable gremlin. looting is tactless at a time like this!! well, it's always tactless, but still. it is definitely tactless right now, in a place like this.

so when she catches this chump with his head in an overhead compartment, slipping something shiny into one of his pockets, she clears her throat and plants a hand right onto her hip, tapping one foot. ]

What have you put into your pocket?

alisaie leveilleur

[adelphoi]

i; a rude awakening (southwest wing)

[ at least they had been warned this time, before being dragged off to a new world. alisaie isn't sure she is quite ready for it, after the exhausting, heartbreaking events of akvos - but if she is not ready now, she will surely never be ready. there is no better way to move past something than to move forward, sometimes quite literally. and so, on they march.

she's growing used to that strange feeling of awakening somewhere that is very much not home, and this is no different. the feeling of transport is disconcerting, the fog even moreso, but she remains calm when her eyes first flicker open to a hazy nothingness. this must be.. the new world.

the capsule hisses open, and alisaie lifts a hand to rub at her aching eyes with both hands, preparing to sit up when - when that sound cuts through the air, the alarm keening sharp and high in a way that pierces her sensitive ears like little knives. crying out, she sits up so suddenly that were she any taller she would surely have cracked her skull on the bunk above her own, and clasping her hands hard over her ears she struggles to shout above the din. ]

What in seven hells is that?

[ talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed.. ]

ii; a fell voice on the air

[ the door has a more powerful impact on her than she might have suspected, but then, hers is a soft heart that is sometimes easy to influence, and she could not have expected how it would draw her in.

maybe she was alone at the time and you are here as well, or maybe she was traveling with you when she was suddenly drawn away - but nevertheless she is now here, before that black hole of a window, pulled inexorably toward.. something. ]

Is it you..?

[ she whispers, bewildered and confused, her voice warm and fond and sad - but on the same hand there is a chill that runs down her spine like an icy finger, bringing with it a sense of wrongness that clutches at her gut and squeezes. it feels like the floor is dropping out beneath her, that strange, uncomfortable stomach lurching sensation that comes along with falling from a great height washing over her in a wave. something is.. something is very wrong, even if she cannot tell what or why, and the silence is so thorough as to be eerily deafening, so absolute that the sound of the flickering lights is as loud as wood popping in a fire. the breath is pulled from her lungs, and all at once she lurches back from the door, horrified and reeling, perhaps right into you, if you are standing close enough. ]

iii; starscape (southwest wing)

[ alisaie has looked upon a great many sights in her short lifetime, she has traveled all over eorzea's vast face, and even here, amidst the circle, to many different worlds - but she has never seen something quite so breathtaking as this.

the window in the mess hall feels less like a viewport and more like a portal into another world, the starscape before her so wide and vast that she's sure it will swallow her whole. ]

This is..

[ she has not the poet's soul to properly wrap her thoughts in words, to sum up the terrific, intimidating beauty of the cosmos laid out ahead of her, the arms of the galaxy flung milky and wide, the innumerable stars peppering the velvety black space between - eorzea has some incredible views, but they are framed by the land. this is all around her, encompassing. lifting her hands to the glass, she falls silent, her thoughts trailing away. ]

iv; the doors

[ never let it be said that alisaie is a delicate girl..

should you find yourself at a far off door set a bit further away from the others, you might find there not a person, but a very large.. goat? with a red ribbon tied right at the top of its head??

with a great snort, the goat paws its hooves against the hard floor, then charges hard and fast, head down, quite literally ramming the door with its strong horns. yikes, that hurt.. i mean, not nearly so bad as it would were she not a goat, but still, a good clock! nevertheless, she shakes her head to clear it, and backs up to ready for another charge. she put a small dent in it, at least! that's progress..! ]

iv; wildcard

[ not feeling the above prompts? tweak them to your liking, or toss something completely new at me! alisaie can be anywhere at anytime, really. my plotting comment can be found here if you need it, or you can contact me on plurk (owlcoholic) or on discord (baby shark#4848)! ]

the doors

[silveren]

[ He's not exactly sure why there's a goat in the space station, but he's learned that explanations are of no great importance here, and any energy spent in pursuit of them is wasted. What he is sure of, however, is that food is scarce, and that a goat this size could feed a good amount of people.

Astoria had deprived him of his sword, which left him especially vulnerable in this situation. At the same time, he doubted his ability to find the hallway again if he left in search of help. There was little choice but to subdue the beast himself.

Slowly, carefully, he crouches closer from behind. This was it. Now or never.

With a deep breath, he takes a step, and launches himself forward onto the beast's back. ]

lucina | fe:a

[rightfully]

» network.

did everyone make the transition alright?
does anyone need aid?

[ She keeps her message short and sweet. The sound erupts between her words, causing the message to lag between questions one and two, but it gets there eventually. ]

» investigation (open).

[ It takes about over a day for her to brute force some doors in, wielding Falchion as artlessly as a cudgel and being convinced she's disgracing Marth himself, as well as Naga and the entire Exalted line, for it. It's interesting what a person is capable of when there's a - whatever this is - on the line. She takes breaks, of course: to rest her muscles before they over-exert; or even to try and eat the curious (but strangely filling) rations this new, uh, world provides. However, this is her main goal for a stretch of time.

The first door she opens leads to a bedroom, not unlike the very one she had woken up in. The only difference are the pods. By now, Lucina has learned enough about technology to know that she knows nothing. Needless to say, she is not comfortable touching those.

She explores the second room a little more. It's little more than a storage cupboard, with some spare clothing. Rifling through the clothes, there's an audible clink on the floor as some change spills out. Tokens, in the shape of a star. She scoops them up. ]

How interesting.

[ Aaaaand then they're pocketed. It's the first rule of point and click adventure games, after all: take everything that isn't nailed down. ]

» investigation (closed to yang).

[ This is why you shouldn't have asked Lucina to be your roommate, Yang. She's the Mom Friend. She fusses over people.

A few short minutes after waking up, Yang will get a private message. Voice, not text, because text is the worst (and Lucina's bad at it). ]

Yang? Are you alright?

» wildcard.

( Anything else you might like! Lucina's skills are best suited to brute force but she can also run menial tasks while the techies do their thing, and she makes a good guinea pig. For plotting, feel free to hit me up via PM or at jes#5604 on discord. )

investigation

[juniberries]

[sometimes, Allura forgets herself and her abilities...or lack thereof. what was once an easy feat (forcing closed doors open with brute force alone) now proves impossible. and her abilities, thus far, have only proven helpful in emitting a light source whenever the power flickers out, or the lighting remains too low to see.

so said light source, a white, phantasmal Lion, is the first to enter the second room, with Allura at its side, looking around the now-open room with a piqued interest.

she catches the sound of coins falling, and turns to see Lucina scooping them up.]

...what was that? Did you find something?

[nosy Princess......]

Ren Suzugamori

[thedarkbond]

[A: Awakening (Northwest Wing)]

[This is a little bit sooner than Ren was expecting to be sent out again, but he's not too concerned about that part. He gets restless in the one place, so as nice as the temple is, he'll take moving on to somewhere else for the moment.

A spaceship is perhaps not the ideal location for someone like him who likes his freedom to wander, though. And he's especially thinking that when he opens his eyes to what seems to be a very spartan sort of sleeping area...at least, until the power flickers out again almost immediately and he's left barely able to see a hand in front of his face.

He sighs, sounding more petulant about the whole thing than actually worried, and the sound of him clambering a little awkwardly out of the pod might draw the attention of others in the area even before he speaks up, his tone somewhat vague.]

Hello...? Does anyone have a light...?

--

[B: Investigation - Bedrooms]

[It doesn't take Ren long to get restless in a space this (relatively) confined compared to where they came from, and he deals with that by exploring further. The bedrooms, especially, seem to be almost endless, and he finds himself wandering through a variety of different wings over the course of his searches. It's not very productive work, it seems, but if anyone else comes to investigate the area, he'll pop his head out of one corner of the room with a bright smile.]

Oh, are you looking through here too? I could use some company...

--

[C: Investigation - Locked Doors]

[Ren might not look like the kind of person who'd be much help in unlocking a door, but that doesn't change the fact that he'll be trying to pick out ones that others haven't already gotten to yet, prodding and tapping them as if they might reveal their secrets to him in whether they're worth opening or not.

It does mean that he'll be plenty willing to approach or be approached by anyone who's trying to get doors open themselves, reaching out a hand to the latest door and poking it in a couple of different places with a rather absent-minded air. It's...probably not that reassuring a sight to see from someone you might be working with, honestly.]

Do you think this one might be good to try...?

[[Note: I'm happy to organise with larger groups for this one/lend Ren's efforts if someone who already has a group wants to speed up opening a door! Just hit me up on the OOC post for that!]]

--

[D: Investigation - Sound]

[Ren doesn't have any specific talents to pursue the source of the sound, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to be trying. It's pretty easy to tell that it's coming from down, so he might be found wandering the ship, especially as the days go on and people begin to find more hints, trying to find a way down that must exist in here, somewhere.

There's not much to be found around just yet, though, and he lets out a frustrated little huff.] This can't be the only level of the ship...

--

[E: Whispers in the Dark]

[Ren hasn't found himself affected too much by the stressors on the ship so far. For better or worse, he's been fairly resilient to psychological pressure for much of his life, so the only issue he's been having is the fact that he doesn't really like being stuck in one relatively small place.

So of course, an exit should be something promising, somewhere else he can explore and get a little more space in this ship that must be so much larger than the small part of it they're confined to right now. The only hesitation in his approach comes in that moment he can feel he's gone too far, when the walls seem to stretch around him and voices, too many voices whisper in his ears in words he's heard them speak before...

"Come on."

"Come back."

"Stay by my side forever."

He pushes away violently, against walls or against the door or against something that sparks enough pain in his palms to make the voices stop, and stumbles away from the door with an expression that for a single moment looks cold. Not emotionless, but quiet outrage, the response of someone who can't quite believe another had the audacity to try and confront them like this. But he blinks and shakes his head, pushing further away and letting his expression clear to a more innocent, petulant pout of upset that he'll turn on anyone who has the misfortune to have come upon him here, along with a more typical absent-minded sounding tone when he speaks.]

Ah...are all of the exit doors like this? It doesn't seem very nice of them...

[And he suddenly wants even more to get to the bottom of exactly what it is that's going on in this ship.]

--

[F: Wildcard]

[[I'm happy to plot other investigations or work with groups on them! Ren's OOC plotting post is over here for discussing that sort of thing, or you can hit me up at reviseleviathan. He'll definitely want to pursue the sound and help out with getting through doors so everyone can progress - his Astoria power is the ability to shapeshift into a fancy knight, basically, so he can be more help with doors than he looks.]]

wildcard — npc tag.

[anessa]

[ when he opens the pod, she is practically lifeless — if not for the faint fall and rise of her chest.

vioet's eyes flutter open, like she's waking from a nap and nothing more for a moment. and then the sudden burst of light creeps into her periphery and boy, does it take her aback. ]

Oh, fuck.

[ she slowly sits up, back straightening before she looks towards her newfound acquaintance. there's a slow blink before she cants her head. ]

You new? I can't say I know who you are.

princess allura

[juniberries]

1. arrival (northwest wing)

[a distress beacon...dark energy...

it's an all-too familiar scenario for Allura, one that brings about, strangely, an iota of comfort of the familiar. however, that comfort dissipates into a more reasonable sense of anxiety, of remembering similar scenarios which almost always culminate into a trap of some kind, but before she can even voice her concerns to anyone who may be beside her during this announcement, she's falling--

then waking. rising immediately.]

Astoria, wai-- ouch!

[and bumping her head against the top bunk of her capsule.

unfortunately, before she can even get a sense of where she's woken up, the lights flicker off, and she's left in the darkness. not knowing if she's alone or not, she knows she cannot simply stand around, and feeling along a wall, her other hand outstretched, Allura tries to make her way towards an exit.

or a lightswitch.

or something.

unfortunately, she winds up smacking her outstretched hand against someone else's face, finger probably winding up in someone's mouth or up their nose or poking their eye.]

Oh! Oh no I am-- please tell me you are with the Circle.


2. faces places

[whatever comfort there's to be had in being on a ship suspended in space, it's long gone. this place is too reminiscent of the defunct Altean spacecraft left abandoned between realities, so much so that Allura anticipates tripping over skeletal remains.

the unease prickles at the back of her neck, made worse by the strange intermittent noise that echoes through the ship. and at times, she cannot help but believe she sees things from the corner of her eye. a small childlike voice calling out to her mother, the yellow gaze of a haggard corrupt Altean following her, footsteps and a flash of royal armour--

"Allura."

the voice is familiar. low, comforting, masculine, and it beckons her down a hall which she cautiously walks down, one hand at the handle of her bayard, the other touching against the wall to feel her way through the dim light.

she should know better. she knows where this could very well lead. but the voice of her father is the same that she still hears in her dreams, and if anything, the dark energy is tied to these voices.]

Father?

[she says it outloud, unknowingly. and she finds herself stopped at a door. and, despite knowing her lacking strength, she digs her fingers against the doorframe, attempting to pry the door open to no avail.

and should someone approach her from behind, she'll react a bit erratically, obviously shaken, lashing out with a bright energy whip of her bayard. luckily, it misses, and embarrassed and tense, she'll say in a raised voice:]

Do not sneak up on me like that!


3. wildcard
[OPEN TO ANY OTHER STARTER PROMPTS YOU CAN THROW MY WAY!! feel free to plot with me here or hit me up on my plurk trashcats.]

2

[tamerinblue]

[Since there wasn't much to do on a broken ship but wander, that's what Ruki found herself doing. Normally she wouldn't keep LightRenamon summoned at her side, but she'd felt a creepy sensation since arriving here. It reminded her WAY too much of a particular encounter from her past with IceDevimon and while she'd already had to re-experience that again, she wasn't sure she was game for it happening twice in the span of so many weeks.

She hears noises down a hallway and stops. The lights are dim and she thinks she sees a young woman. She squints and then moves to check it out. LightRenamon trailing behind her like the opposite of a shadow, since her blue form glows slightly.]

H-hello?

[She hates how scared she sounds, but it's nothing compared to the fright that comes when Allura lashes out from the shadows with her energy whip. Ruki stumbles back in surprise and reflexively LightRenamon is in front of her in an instant to protect her. Ruki can feel her heart pounding and the adrenaline rush multiplied with the fear makes her reply a bit snappy.]

Sorry! You're the one hanging out in shadowy hallways!

Doctor Aphra | Star Wars

[archaeo]

I. northeast wing

[This feels way too familiar. As she opens her capsule, Aphra half-expects some Imperial guard to explain everything she's seen was an effect of the torture methods used on her. Turns out she was more susceptible than she'd thought. And now she'll be executed, yay.

Except there's no one here. She swings her legs over to set her feet on the ground, only for them to make contact with weird squishy pink stuff. She tests its properties for a few moments and yep, she's decided she hates it. So with a somewhat bored expression, she explains,]

This is fresh water shipped in from Mon Cala that does wonders for your skin and it is not at all sticky or gooey in any way, shape, or form.

[There's still some pink goo oozing around the cabin, but at least her feet are now just in a water puddle. Look, she doesn't want to have to clean her shoes!!]

II. mess hall

[Noticing someone is preparing their meal goo and looks fittingly disappointed, Aphra approaches them with all the charisma of an infomercial salesperson.]

Hey. You want some real food?

[She tilts her head in the direction of the table she's eating at, where not goo food can be seen. Specifically, it's what appears to be some sort of curry along with an alcoholic beverage. Her powers are good for one thing and this is kinda it.]

III. exit dooooooor

["Chelli," a voice calls to her in a sweet tone. It's her mother's voice, there's no denying that. Aphra stops for a moment, looking for the source. There's nothing out of the ordinary, except for the creepy door which maybe is worth mentioning. She wasn't going to pay it any mind, leaving that to the reckless heroes in the group. Except this... this is interesting.]

Huh. I don't know if you're another weird fungus ghost or something else, but you guys really need to work on the whole digging into my memories to mess with me thing. It's just way too obvious! Even the Imperials were better when they were like yeah, we're gonna change your memories of your mom and destroy your entire sense of self and reality! This is just... what, you think I'm sentimental? Like my mom actually spoke to me that way?

[That said, while she performs this little speech, she is trying to open the door to no avail. Because of course she is.]

IV. lounge area

[Most of the time, Aphra can be found in the lounge area as she attempts to translate the various documents there. Sometimes she's spread her body across the entirety of the couch so no one else can sit there, other times she's sitting on a chair in a way that hardly looks practical or comfortable. At all times, she's got a book in her hands or instructions for one of the games they've found. While looking over the notebooks, she sighs,]

Come ooooon, get to the juicy stuff!

[Later on, she's setting up a game and attempting to play through it. She might need additional players for this to actually work.]

II

[formleg]

[Hunk nearly drops his bowl of goo in surprise. How had he not picked up on the delicious aroma of cooked meat and soft rice from a curry. He feels a little drool starting to form and wipes at his mouth. It's hard, but he pulls his eyes away from the table and back to Aphra.

They'd been working on generating ingredients with Konoha, but they hadn't gone as far as to prepare a meal like that -- let alone produce alcohol.]

Please tell me that's real and you aren't pranking me right now.

[intoningly]

I.

[ It has been several hours, maybe a day since the circle had begun settling into their new home– it's hard to tell really. There's little way to keep time minus the noises that seem to come at random intervals. Whatever the case, whether they woke up in the dark, soaking wet, or covered in goop, most people have at least by now recovered from their rude awakening.

Keyword being most. ]

Do you have eyes asshole?!

[ Maybe you tripped over her, or maybe you just came to a sudden stop that was way too close for Zero's comfort. Whatever the case she's here, in the middle of some hallway, still covered from head to toe in pink goo with her ear to the ground. ]

Shut up!

[ She snaps before you can even properly answer. ]

I'm trying to hear.

II.

[ Zero finds herself in this room once it's been opened up by the others. She's got one of the skulls in her hands and she's tossing it up in the air almost absentmindedly the same way you might play with a ball.

She's standing in front of the message on the walls, brow furrowed. She can't read, but she's got at least enough brainmeat to know message in blood=bad. She hears footsteps and so she turns, frowning at you in a disinterested sort of way but demanding your attention nonetheless. ]

Hey–

[ She hurls the skull at her new companion. Catch? ]

I'm taking bets on whatever the fuck happened here. What's your guess?

III. WHISPERS IN THE DARK

[ It's been days now. There is no day and night here, just that infernal noise that clangs ominously from below them, quiet paranoia and voices that tempt those who dare to listen. Zero sits with her back against one of the doors labeled EXIT, eyes closed and face oddly at ease despite her ever present frown.

You'd almost thing she was asleep, if not for the fact that she appears to be humming to herself. It's quiet, barely audible until you get close. But when you do manage to get close her eyes snap open.

Her frown deepens, but it doesn't hold any of the usual severity that it tends to.]

Word of advice? Might not want to hang around here for too long. You'll be real liable to get really fucked up.

[ She tilts her head up, appraising. ]

Unless, that's the sort of shit you're in the mood for right now.

[ Even in circumstances like this, sometimes something familiar was better than nothing. ]

IV.

[ wild card me up! my plurk is valroyeaux if you wanna hmu ]

ii

[impavidness]

[ frisk catches the skull completely by the saving grace of tubby custard.

it sticks to their hands, pink goo rubbing onto the skull. they hold it, wordlessly. maybe they aren't quite comprehending what this is, but there's something like upset in their features. maybe too much pink goo. ]

...What's a distress beacon?

[ they ask that before gingerly placing the skull down somewhere clean, and patting it as if to console it. reminds them a bit of a friend... ]

frisk

[impavidness]

a: start menu music here

[ frisk wanders as soon as they wake up. rubbing sleep out of their eyes, they explore the ship quietly - as if they're a mouse themselves. the first place they wind up in is the LOUNGE, a place that gives the impression it was once well lived in, they think. they don't think of home on this ship, but they can easily imagine people spending hours in this place.

anyway, frisk immediately crawls into a vent.

walking into the lounge, you're greet with the sight of someone's little legs sticking out of the vent. you could probably bully this person, or pull them out. or maybe even help them! who knows. either way, it looks like it's a tight fit for them? maybe they just need to be cheered on... who knows. how do you solve this problem? ]

b: it's edible so i'm gonna eat it

[ there's a series of small footprints leading into the kitchen. they're pink, and sticky.

do you follow? do you ignore? those are definitely the feet of a child - the footprints are too small. there's a clattering from inside the kitchen, to boot, but maybe it's your imagination.

are you going to follow the pink footstep road or are you about to leave a child to fend for themselves. ]

c: arts and dirtballs

[ entering the GARDEN once it's open is nostalgic for frisk, and maybe a little bit poignant. if they were a bit older, or like the Narrator, they might be able to describe the feeling the sight feels them with. it isn't quite determination, though they don't feel drained either. they feel a little bit... older, as if time's gotten away from them.

they don't really do anything with anything in the garden at first, simply wandering around aimlessly and maybe sleeplessly. eventually, though, they begin to use a dull knife pilfered from the kitchen to gather up and shape dirt, adding a bit of tubby custard they've dumped into a hole to the mixture so it's a little bit more muddy than... well, dirt-y?

when they notice someone else is in the garden, they look. stare, wordlessly. and then, they raise a thumb, turning it this way then that way, before returning to their tubby custard/dirt mix.

maybe you've always wanted a dirt rendering of your face. or maybe this is grating at best. who knows? ]

d: wildcard

[ i'm over on plurk @ weirdautumn if you'd like to hmu for plotting. feel free to respond to this with your own starter as well! ]

b

[foundafamily]

[A kid? Really, Astoria? By definition, any place Astoria sends them is bound to be screwed up, so Firo can't not follow the prints to check on whoever made them.

Along he goes, following the trail into the kitchen.]

You all right in there, pal?

[It feels stupid to ask, but, hey, he won't be rude by jumping to the conclusion that this child doesn't know what they're doing. The mere implication would've offended him when he was young. (And now, honestly.)]

prompto argentum.

[punshots]

i. the awakening (northwest wing).

[ When Astoria had told them they would be traveling to a ship, Prompto had pictured something very different in his mind.

Immediately upon waking, it's clear that the Horologium is like nowhere they Circle has ever traveled before. The pod encasing him is cramped and dim and immediately makes him claustrophobic, and it's no small relief a few moments later when it relinquishes him against the pressure of his hands. Out he spills against the cold, metal floor, and he only has a moment to take in his new surroundings before the lights flicker out. But that's long enough for this new world to make an impression on him.

The cold, metal surfaces, clinical and oppressing, somehow dark and too-bright all at once, sure remind him a hell of a lot of Niflheim.

A sharp intake of break ushers out of his lungs before he scrambles up on his feet in complete darkness. Though his attention had been arrested by their surroundings, there were other people in here with him, right? Other Circle members. As instantly anxious as this place made him, the dark makes it so much worse, and the sooner they can get the lights back on, the better. ]

H-hey, who decided on hide-n-seek in the dark? Olly olly o-oxenfree...

[ His playful words don't do much to drown out the nerves in his voice. Prompto begins to move forward, hands outstretched, feeling for anything that can orient him —

Which very well may be someone else's face. Uh, sorry about that. ]

ii. investigations.

[ If there's one thing that the Horologium has going for it, it's that there is a lot to keep Prompto busy. The ship is huge, and while he's hardly a gumshoe, even he finds some things to look into. What was this place for? Who was the crew? And...where were they now?

His investigation will focus primarily on the following locations: ]

A. BEDROOMS. [ First and foremost, Prompto goes looking for the crew. A ship this size has to be manned by someone, right? What if they're just sleeping in their pods like the Circle members had been? But not all of the pods opened on their own. Some are sealed, meaning there's the possibility someone is still inside, and if that's the case, they need to get out. If the pods aren't gonna help, then that means he has to take matters into his own hands.

...Even if there's a fairly serious reason behind it, he still feels kinda badass with a crowbar in his hands. He grins at whoever he's managed to rope into this with him, shooting for reassuring. ]

Alright. How're we gonna do this?

[ He's the crowbar guy, but he's not the plans guy! There's also, like, a control panel they could use to hack the pod into opening, but...nah. ]

B. THE SOUND. [ Even if he doesn't explicitly have a plan behind it at first, running is his first instinct when he hears that oppressive, mind-numbing sound. He's never heard anything like it before in his life, and whatever the hell it is, it jars him right to his core. Unsettling doesn't even begin to cover it, and so — he runs. Away from it, at first — at least, in theory. The sound never really lessens no matter where he runs, but soon he begins to realize that in certain directions, the noise...starts to get louder.

It's the sort of thing that he doesn't exactly want to run toward, but his speed ability means he can trace it quickly while listening for it — or rather, while it reverberates in his skull. He moves quickly, a literal blur, sometimes even faster than that, and, well. There's only so much control he has when he's moving that fast.

So if someone moves unexpectedly into a hallway or through a doorway, they'll hear a shrill: ]

No no no no NO —

[ ...Before a Prompto whirlwind collides with them. He does his best to throw himself to the side to mitigate the damage, but...yeah...they're both probably going down. ]

iii. wildcard.

[ Have something else you'd like to do with Prompto? Go wild! He can be found all around the ship and helped with the discovery of the elevator shaft, if you want to talk him into climbing down there. Hit me up on Plurk at retroscape if you'd like to plot something out! ]

wildcard i do what i want

[adelphoi]

[ this has been tiring.

a new world jump is always tiring, it is not easy to wake up somewhere new, to have to adjust to an entirely new atmosphere and set of problems - even when it is not physically demanding, it is certainly mentally and emotionally taxing. not to mention, there is something about this place that has her on edge, and she's sure that she cannot be the only one to feel that way; it takes energy to remain so vigilant.

but the day is winding down, and she has the time now to track prompto down.

they meet in one of the lounge rooms, and with a heavy sigh alisaie drops down onto the sofa beside him, exhaling hard. she leans into his side, slumping her weight against him and resting her head against his bicep while she stretches her legs out ahead of her, flexing her aching feet in her boots.

instead of saying anything, she just.. yawns. she'll manage words eventually. ]

ryoko asakura

[loveedition]

awakening - southwest

[ Was it too much to ask for her to be forewarned? She wanted to say something to Astoria, but being pulled out of consciousness abruptly didn't feel particularly good, even less so when she actually woke up. Ryoko was already feeling frustrated from the get go, and that was definitely only made worse by the loud ringing in her ears and the wet feeling on her face.

Sputtering, she immediately gets out of her cot and covers her ears, glancing down at the wet floor before trying to get a glimpse of the sprinklers. ]

Ah, jeez...! [ Well, this was awful! Time to find the door then-- but first, if someone is around... ]

Hey, can you get that sprinkler to stop? Or find some way to keep it from filling up the room?

whisper on the wind

[ She pounds at the exit door.

Truthfully, she knew in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be falling for this. That there's no possible way. On the other hand, the exit was right in front of her, and all she could hear was her dear friend calling to her, asking her to come back. Asking her why she left. With one last open palm slap of her hand against the wall, she yells out. ]

Stop it!

[ At this point, she doesn't want to hear it. It's not her. She knows it's not. As much as she wishes she was here, she didn't want to hear her voice. Not now. ]

wildcard

[ Hit me up! I'm open to all manners of investigation that Ryoko can get into. Or if you need her to heal up! ]

whisper on the wind.

[insubordination]

[ the voices are . . . infuriating, to say the least. roy knows how to deal with hearing things that aren't supposed to be here . . . or, at least, he has a method to dealing with it. which is keep busy. and he's been on the move for a bit, exploring, when he comes across ryoko slamming her hand against the wall.

ugh. another kid, in the circle. great. and she looks somewhat familiar, too, though so many people come and go that it's hard for roy to keep track. but still, he approaches carefully, his voice a little gentler than normal: ]

Are you alright?

inej ghafa.

[wraithes]

southeast wing. (two tag-ins only for this prompt).

[ she wakes up in a coffin.

or, at least, that's what it feels like -- confused, confined, constricted. and it only takes a moment for inej to immediately lift her knees, and push to open the pod. there's a jolt of nerves that shoots through her being, electrified, as the cover of the pod does not immediately move . . . and she's on the verge of screaming for help when the pod finally unlocks with a hiss.

she is out of it almost immediately, landing on the floor as gracefully as one can manage falling out of a pod. without much more of a word, or taking care to notice if anyone else is in the room with her, inej has a knife in her hand and is heading for the door. she has to find kaz, she has to find kaz, she has to find --

but then, the door won't open.

inej ghafa is powerful, a trained warrior, but she is not physically strong. and nothing is more apparent when a four-foot-eleven lithe acrobat attempts to open a door that just will not budge. ]

-- damn it --

[ please help her. ]

the mess hall.

[ inej has spent quite a lot of her time just . . . wandering. coming from a world without much technology like this at all, this is a bit staggering to her. and she soon finds herself by the observatory window, her mouth hanging slightly ajar at the wide expanse of space before her. the twinkling of the stars, the . . . the beauty of it all.

she feels very . . . small. ]

Saints...

[ it's whispered to herself, as she presses a palm against the window, stepping as close as she can, to get a better view. ]

I had no idea it was so . . . big.

closed to kaz.

[ after a few days of wandering around the ship, inej has decided that she wants to go a bit further in. she's heard word of these locked doors, and, well. try as she might to argue otherwise, there's no better pair to break into a locked door than kaz brekker and inej ghafa, the best thieves in the barrel.

curiosity, indeed, killed the cat.

so she finds him, arriving at his side somewhere in the lounge out of seemingly nowhere (though, inej realizes, kaz knows she's coming, and it isn't a surprise to him that she's lingering nearby), easily settling down on the couch next to him with a discovered notebook in her hand, along with a few of these bizarre star-tokens that apparently count as coin. ]

You have not asked me if we are going to investigate the locked doors.

[ she tucks her legs underneath her easily, looking over at him, curious, letting the token run across her fingers before offering it to him, to look at himself, if he wants to see it. ]

Why?

[ketterdamned]

[ kaz isn't sure yet how he feels about the realization that there is now a routine to these things. that they wake up, and immediately touch base. that the first few days are spent understanding the layout, knowing where things are kept with little interference. he's still not certain yet what the chaos is they're supposed to be stopping, but he has ideas.

he's settled in the lounge both to give his leg a brief rest and to wait for inej. he had a feeling that she would search him out today, and he figured her curiosity would get the best of her. why they haven't gone out yet, why kaz seems all but nonplussed with the idea of multiple locked doors.

she appears while he's there, but he has a sense for it. can tell when she's close before she finally settles next to him. he eyes the notebook and the token, and as she offers it to him he takes the token and runs it between his gloved fingers. interesting. he doesn't mind the feel. ]

There is no point investigating until we had all the information. [ aka- he wanted to wait and see what security was like. were any of those doors going to blow? crash inwards? someone else could be the test dummy for that thanks. ]

But- I'm curious now. [ he'll hand the token back to inej and then use his cane to stand. ] Aren't you?

yang xiao long

[vytal]

AWAKENING. southwest.
[ yang was actually excited to go on her first adventure with the circle. she's not going to stop being worried about remnant, of course not--but she still wants to help, especially if there are people in need. she has no questions for astoria when they embark on their journey.

she didn't think that it would entail...this. yang gets a rude awakening when the alarm goes off along with the sprinklers. she's not too happy about getting water all over her face, and she gets up to try and look for a way to make it stop. ]

Does anyone know how to turn this thing off?

[ ...of course, when she realizes that there probably isn't a way to turn it off, she starts heading for the exit. ]

Alright, this thing's busted. C'mon, let's get out of here!

WHISPERS IN THE DARK. (CW: ptsd.)
[ all yang wanted to do was investigate the ship. she didn't ask for the lights to start flickering around her, nor did she ask for the the walls to start narrowing in on her.

most of all, she didn't ask to see adam taurus standing in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

yang freezes and her heart starts to pound in her chest. all she can do is slowly back away as her eyes widen in terror. he follows her. tells her to get closer--don't you want to protect her? from me?--and her hand starts to shake. everywhere she looks, she sees him. she's no stranger to visions like these, but with everything else closing in on her, yang feels herself starting to crumble. it's too much. ]

Stop it!

[ she bolts for the nearest doorway, away from the "exit"..only to collide with whoever happens to be there. the feeling of the walls closing in starts to fade; the lights seem to stop flickering. yet, yang still looks deathly afraid.

her hand is still shaking at her side. ]

WILDCARD.
[ feel free to hit me up via PM or at amplitude! ]

whispers -- he knows something of ptsd lemme tell ya

[dadandgone]

[Maes is starting to wonder if this Darkness Astoria continues to refer to is getting progressively worse. He'd thought the first two world hops he'd experienced had been bad, but this one was really fighting for 'Worst World Hop.' Maybe that was part of the problem, he kept expecting them to get better or easier and he kept getting proven wrong.

What's even worse? They're back to a place with tech WAAAAY out of his league. So he's sort of uselessly poking at one of the screen when he hears someone yell. He looks up. If he wasn't already tense, that wouldn't have done him any favors. He moves to check the hallway when, out of nowhere, a young woman slams into him.

He is immediately on alert and moves a bit on instinct. Griping her shoulder, he goes to pull her into the room and also move to check the hallway. He's a little surprised to find nothing there and turns back to her.]

Are you all right? What happened?

[spaceforged]

Wake up call (Southeast)

1.A (CW: ptsd)
[He wakes in fog with a stretch of some kind of glass just beyond him. Shiro stiffens, his breath coming out too quick and closes his eyes for a long moment. His chest feels a bit tight but the natural instinct to breathe in isn't a good idea. Who knows what is in this fog? He lifts his right hand and shoves against the capsule barrier between himself and the rest of the ship. It doesn't budge. He lifts his other hand and bends his legs, putting his feet flat against the cot and shoves a second time.

The capsule pops up either by his effort or natural timer and he rolls free. The room looks unremarkable but it's not a ship he recognizes. A low, encompassing rumble sweeps through the ship and the lights flicker. He pauses in mid-roll onto his hands. He listens as the sound continues until it dies away. He can't tell where it's coming from. Shiro climbs to his feet and glances around. He moves to grab the edge of another capsule to pull it open. He doubts anyone else wants to be stuck in these beds.]

Hang on, push from the inside and I'll pull from the outside.

1.B
[The door won't budge no matter how hard he braces himself to pull. His hand glows a rich blue as he places it against the door and shoves his fingers up against where the door seals into the wall. If he were back home he could cut it with one sweep of his arm.

He glances at anyone else with him and motions for them to move further away.] Hang on. I'll get this.

[His body bursts into purple light and reshapes into his Lion form. He moves to the side and reaches up, digging his claws into the side of the door and puts his strength into forcing the door open.]

Lounge.

[He threads his way through the mess hall without a backward glance. Enough people will investigate it. He proceeds into the lounge and takes note of the yellow emergency lights. The lounge might have answers. Even during an emergency, some things are always left behind. He walks slowly through the main area, glancing from one side to the other.

He trails his fingers over the tops of the chairs closest to him. Twenty chairs per large table. Three large tables. He changes shape and prowls past the power-saving lights. He glances up at the walls and raises himself up onto his back legs.

Shiro drops back onto all fours and walks slowly, glancing at the walls every so often. There's nothing to tell him what he wants to know. If he sees someone his mental voice comes to them as he again raises himself up along one wall and puts a paw on it.]

I can't see anything along the walls to tell us what floor we're on. Have you seen anything? Any kind of map?

Investigations

I 1
[He moves along the hallways with shut doors as his beast form. He feels less on edge as a Lion. The light of his eyes sweeps over doors and he leans against a few doors to test their strength.

He hasn't tried to rip any open himself. But he lingers in the area if anyone else is fighting with one. If you need back up, he's here to be the muscle you need. Or convenient cover.]

I 2 (Post investigations)

[Shiro takes the weapons they've found to the mess hall. It's a good space to catch his breath and to look over the weapons. He carefully turns one of the laser guns over in his hands. No means to break it down into parts. He wouldn't if he could for now.

No obvious clip or pack. His fingers linger on the solar panel along the barrel. Well, that might be how they're kept charged. To anyone who approaches, he sets the weapon down on the table and greets them.] Just making sure they're safe. They seem to be...but only testing would tell for sure. Something I can do for you?

Wildcard
[Got another idea? Hit me up in pms or skyheron!]

I2

[lonered]

[Keith has followed along. All that work to open the door, and he's more than curious what it is they've found for their trouble. Weapons, clearly, but Shiro is right. Knowing how they work is key.

No sense accidentally blowing a hole in the hull.]

I don't think we have a safe place to test them right now. If they discharge too much we could do more damage than we mean to. But that'd be useful to know before anyone wound up having to use them.

[He's curious about the sword himself. That might be slightly safer to test. And also,] Slingshots seem kind of low tech for a space ship, right?

content warning: alcoholism, withdrawal

[fuck1ngusernam3]

((ooc: also one of the prompts involves him having trouble eating, mostly because of withdrawal symptoms, partly because goo. I wasn't sure what to call that but it gets a content warning too.))

Intro, if something here strikes you feel free to hit this up but it's mostly to set the scene.

[The only thing that gets him out of the bedroom is the pink shit. Sumo slips out of his little cot to come over to him and gets sidetracked by it, and stopping his dog from eating what could be some freaky space poison is about the only thing that could have gotten Hank up and into this brave new world they're supposed to rescue. And once he's up, he might as well wander around. That's what drives him right now; Sumo's going to need food, so he might as well hang out in the kitchen. Once he finds out Connor's looking for the ship's electricity they might as well look in the one room that's still got any. When a day passes and they still haven't found anything, Hank might as well keep at it. It's easier. He doesn't even have to decide anything. Connor's determined enough to do this that Hank can just float along in his wake, and going over the same patch of wall for the twentieth time doesn't even bother him. He might as well be doing it. It's pretty much the same thing as sitting back in his room at the temple, spending all day drinking and carving trite optimism into the walls.

Well. Not exactly the same thing. 'Good things never happen,' that was the latest one, and it actually kind of bothers him that they all got yanked here into this shit before he finished it. Now it just says 'good things never' right there on the wall next to his bed and it's going to stay like that, too real, until he gets back and finishes it. He keeps thinking about it today, staring at the same spot he's already checked and thinking of himself sitting there, getting all zen with it, taking a drink for every line he manages to carve deep enough into the stone. This is like that, mostly, minus the one thing.]

closed to Connor

[The longer the day gets the more he thinks about it, and by the time he heads off to try and get some sleep he's too keyed up to make it happen, coming back less than an hour later with a couple more goo stains, a frown, and an urge to move that won't leave him alone. His searching's a little less thorough, a little more urgent, until he falls asleep sitting against the wall for a fitful hour and a half and wakes up, mutters 'motherfucker' in a pained, cracking voice, curling over and pressing the heel of a hand to his head.]

1. goo

[The day goes on. Or maybe it's a different day; it's hard to tell, and it's honestly hard to care. When he gets sick of looking for nothing he tries to fix the leak of all the goo into those bedrooms. It's not like the bedroom goo's not edible, if they get desperate, but it's gross enough without having to scrape it off the floor.

His shaking hands pull at a wall panel in exactly the wrong way that makes some of the goo squirt out at his face and Hank jerks back, cursing and pressing a hand to one eye. Then he feels himself starting to laugh. It's a surprise, that noise, and it doesn't last long, but he means it, because-]

Well shit, that's not the worst thing I ever got shot in my eye.

2. dinner

[It'd be nice if the good mood lasted. It doesn't. Around the time Connor finds the door and starts working on the lock Hank tries to make some of that pink bullshit for Sumo. His hands won't stay still and spill the fucking powder all over the counter and he takes a deep breath, scrapes it back together, and feeds his fucking dog. Then he makes some for him - not much, but some - and goes into the room outside so Connor won't be around for whatever the fuck happens when he tries to eat it.

So. He tries to put something in his fucking stomach. Then he turns away from the tray and its tiny spot of pink bullshit, leaning over the corner of the table with his head bowed, hair hanging sweat soaked and limp over his face. He presses a hand against his stomach, swallowing as many times as he needs to.]

Motherfucker...

[He's been saying that one a lot. It doesn't sound like a real satisfying motherfucker should; it's weak, wavering, but it's better than anything else that could of come out of his mouth.]

3. sleep is for the weak

[He doesn't come back to the kitchen after that. He ends up outside one of those bedrooms where the sprinklers are going off, sitting against the wall with a folding chair next to him. After dragging it from outside the kitchen and he'd had to stop and sit down, and yeah he knows that shouldn't of tired him out, he knows that, and now he jerks awake with a sharp breath, and digging his fingers into his eyes doesn't make them any less bloodshot, doesn't make them burn any less and doesn't make the bags under them go away. But it's okay for a second.]

4. Hank no

[He stops just inside the bedroom and presses a hand against his head - that doesn't help either, but he does it anyway - and after a few tries he manages to set the chair under the part of the ceiling where the water's coming from. Getting soaked like this doesn't make him smell any less sour but at least he doesn't look sweaty anymore. He just looks like a big wet moron, grimacing with pain, making repeated shaky attempts at standing on the chair so he can try to do something other than sit here and think about throwing up again. Can he make it up without falling? Is he going to slip and fall and crack his head open once he does get up on the chair? Does Hank give a single solitary shit? All important questions. Maybe. Probably not.

Sumo whimpers outside the door; Hank ignores him.]

5. network, whenever The Big Hole is discovered, I'm assuming Hank would have heard people talking about wanting to go down it

[The watch is unstrapped and sitting on Hank's leg, so the video looks up at a deeply unflattering angle, catching mostly sweat stains and the corner of the hand Hank's got cupping his forehead. He mutters, voice flat, without looking at the screen.]

At least get a goddamn team together before you go jump down into the fucking murder hole. Do you assholes even have weapons? If you want to get eaten by the horror movie bullshit that's living down there, be my- shit.

[Well. His jittering leg knocked the watch to the floor, and Hank seems to decide that's all he wants to say. The view twists as the watch falls, and then cuts off.]

6. wildcard
((I know Hank will be looking at the room with all the bones and clawmarks like what the fuck, so if you want to do something there go for it, and if someone gets sick of his lovely normal-BO-plus-withdrawal-sweat aroma the scented bath stuff plus one of the sprinkler rooms would take care of that, since he's not going to take advantage of the showers while they're still rationing water. Want to talk over anything else? Message me and we can figure stuff out.))

1. goo

[weremongoose]

[Barabas has been following his nose, literally, and it's the scent of the spilled goo that has brought him towards this wing of bedrooms. Similar to where he'd woken up, but covered in this mess rather than plagued by broken doors.

In addition to the scent of whatever-the-hell the food goo is, he also catches the familiar sent of someone he knows.

So he slows his hallway stalking and peeks in the door. He may be hard to recognize. He's taken his half-beast form, a seven-foot tall bipedal werehyena, all teeth and fangs and claws. His senses are better like this, and he's stronger.

Arriving just in time to see the panel pop and Hank to wind up attacked by good.]

So is this a common occurence? [A curios question. His voice is mostly clear, a bit off, given that his jaws are the jaws of a beast more than a human, but he almost sounds like himself. Almost.]

[lonered]

[ 1. Awake - southwest ]

[Keith awakes and is immediately displeased. A first push at the capsule, and when it doesn't immediately budge, he escalates. Anyone in the room will see a blade burst through the glass, before a foot follows, shattering and finally opening the thing.

Well. He feels a little better if nothing else.

Then the noise registers. And a moment later, the sprinklers engage and Keith finds himself drenched.] ...wet again.

[Why. Him.]


[ 2. Whispers ]

[Keith is lingering by the labeled exit, but he isn't looking at that. He's looking at a great deal of nothing, a rather far away and uncertain look on his face. His mind is playing tricks on him. He knows it is.

Somehow that doesn't help.]

Krolia? [He murmurs softly, head canting to the side.] Mom, where are you?

[A step back to get a better view and he's frowning. No, that's wrong. Krolia is far from here.] What is going on here?


[ 3. Door ]

[All right. These doors are going down. Keith is currently sizing them up.]

Why is so much of this ship locked up? And where the hell is the crew?

[He's muttering to himself, but if he notices someone nearby or listening, he adds,] This many people don't just disappear with no cause.


[ 4. Network - text ]

Has everyone gotten free of those rooms?

If anyone needs help, let me know. We should all be ready and mobile in case anything happens.

[Because that's how this works. The other shoe will drop sooner or later.]


[ 5. Widlcard ]

(( something not here? hit me up, PM me or catch me at seasided ))

2

[foundafamily]

[Firo's almost relieved to spot Keith as he approaches the exit door--almost because something doesn't seem quite right in the way he's acting, the way he's talking to what Firo's pretty sure is empty air.

The sudden guttering of the lights only quickens his pace as he nears.]

Who're you talking to?

[blindfoster]

[ 1. - Gross ]

[Quentin woke up in a weird capsule in a weird cot. Spike had been curled up on his chest, and thankfully the rose goblin was still on his shoulder when Quentin stepped in the goo. It had squished in an exceptionally unpleasant way under his feet.]

Ugh... it won't come off. [He's trying to scrape it off his shoes now. Not a lot of luck.] That in Oberon's name is this stuff anyway? It smells terrible?

[He hadn't thought to put on a human disguise illusion, so his pointed ears and almost metallic looking bronze-colored hair are on full display. He's got other things to worry about, after all.]


[ 2. - Following the sound ]

[The sound, when it's sounding, is all-consuming. Quentin can't escape from it, so instead he's trying to figure out where it's coming from. He moves through dim hallways slowly. His eyesight in minimal light is exceptional, so that's not the problem here, or what is making him look so uneasy.

Nope. That's...]

This is basically a horror movie, right? We're stuck in a sic-fi horror film.

[He likes those kind of movies, but has no desire to be in one. So wide blue eyes might be pleading a bit as they meet anyone close enough to have heard that observation. You know what's good for surviving horror movies? The buddy system. That's what.] I don't think I like space.

Any idea where that noise is coming from? [Because it sounds like it's everywhere.]


[ 3. - Bedrooms ]

[Since they are going to need a place to sleep, and Quentin does not want to go back in the room with the goo, thanks, he's looking for another option. So he pokes his head into the nearest one, startling when he sees someone.]

...n one of these rooms are exactly hospitable, huh?

[From his shoulder, the little rose goblin chirps its agreement. Not a fan.]


[ 4. - Wildcard ]

(( anything not here, hit me up here, via PM or at seasided ))

2

[hatamon]

What, you don't like horror movies?

[ Space is a great setting for one, when you think about it. The isolation alone cranks everything up to an 11. Granted, it's a little harder to appreciate a well-crafted creepy atmosphere when their lives are in very real danger, but that's not going to stop Takeru from trying.

He shrugs at Quentin's question, using his power to form a makeshift flashlight in his hand and then shines the resulting light down the hall. ]

That way?

[ Every direction feels like as good a guess as any other, honestly. ]

Konoha | JINBA, OTA

[lumberlady]

01 | AWAKENING (SE) | RUN AWAY CENTAUR

[Doors not opening is a problem in most any situation... and doors not opening in a strange, metallic box full of foreign technology and isolated from everyone else in the Circle...

There's a loud banging sound echoing down the hall, a door that seems to be getting a pounding from within, clattering sounds between each solid... kick? The metal of the door seems to be slowly bending outward under the force, but...

Is there anything that can be done from the outside?]

02 | KITCHENS | WATER-LESS COOKING

[Is having a thick, brown winter coat a health hazard in a kitchen? Hopefully not, because Konoha has all but set up shop after her network post, trying to make herself useful in a way that she understands. Which certainly doesn't include... space exploration.

But the limited water resources has her somewhat stumped, and visitors to the kitchen may find her there, arms crossed and frowning down at the empty counter in front of her, muttering under her breath.]

Rice needs some water... soup needs a lot of water...

[How is she supposed to feed people balanced diets of not-goop to keep their spirits up this way...]

03 | CAFETERIA | BREAKFAST BY THE WINDOW

[After a few days and some hard thinking, (partly to avoid thinking of the feeling she's being watched, the emptiness of space, the creepy sensation of the metal halls), Konoha has got a few good menu items down, and settled into something like a routine when it comes to serving food in the dining hall with the help of other volunteers.

Breakfast is served at... What she thinks is "morning". Despite the time that has passed since her arrival, though, the giant window that looks out into the infinite black of space... it still makes her nervous.]

Oh, sorry-

[Having been distracted by the sight, Konoha forces herself to move again, look back and smile a bit anxiously as she hands over a plate holding grilled salt fish, sticks of raw vegetables, and an apple.]

Here. You want anything else with that? I can see about making it.

04 | WILDCARD

[If there's a few hits already on the other prompts or you have a different idea, feel free to tag me with whatever or hit me up at Konoha's plotting comment.]

2, because these two and food!

[teratias]

[Waver's been unsure of what to do with himself, and in truth, at least checking on the food supply means he's going to feel mildly useful. So he's walking into the kitchen when there's a very familiar centaur there, and...

...man, they really could use some dried fruit now, couldn't they?

Waver waits a few minutes before interrupting.]

How's this place set for cooking oil?

[sendinthecavalry]

I. northwest wing

[The darkness and sense of nothingness is sadly familiar, the hallmark of a miscalculated jump or a few too many thrall, but even as he’s suddenly brought back online there’s something distinctly off this time. Cayde doesn’t have lungs, gasps for breath anyways, and moves to push himself up before unceremoniously banging his horn against the partially open hatch of the capsule. With a string of curses he works to wriggle himself out of the pod, though it proves a little difficult in the dark. After two jumps he would have thought he would have gotten used to the jarring sensation of being dropped into somewhere completely unknown, but he’s been proven summarily wrong.

Out in the hallway he’s fairly easy to spot, eyes bright blue beacons that cut through the darkness as he starts poking around. A small robotic figure swirls around his head every once in a while, the light from its single eye illuminating bits and bobs like a flashlight.]

Anyone there? Don’t tell me I got dumped here all alone.


II. Lounge/setting up base

[The discovery of the lounge, and the subsequent notes and books, is something of a godsend for an Exo who’s about to vibrate out of his chassis with poorly contained energy. The ship, they’re on a ship, feels almost familiar in a way but it’s the loot that’s scattered about that has him really interested. There are pages and books and notes all around the area that’s been designated ‘lounge’ and he can’t help but get curious, collecting as many documents as he can and squirreling them away to an unused bedroom. It’s here that he can be found, surrounded by papers that don’t seem to be in any particular order and occasionally scribbling notes on one of the walls with a marker that he’d been able to find.]

Hey, so anyone out there, if you find anything that’s got writing on it come and bring it here. I’ll uh. I’ll pay you in a very sincere compliment, how’s that for motivation?


III. Doors

[But a man can only stay put for so long, and in between furious scribbling on purloined paper and attempts at translating anything that’s come across his path, Cayde can be found roaming the halls and working on cracking into some of the locked doors. He doesn’t have the muscle to brute force anything, but picking locks is certainly part of his skillset. If you’re working on breaking into somewhere? There’s also a pretty good chance that he might pop up to assist, whether he’s wanted or not.]

II

[rightfully]

[ It isn't proper writing Lucina brings him - but the front cover of an abandoned alien colouring book, neatly torn off by her own hand. The rest of it was, well, a bit too creepy to really be playing show and tell with.

That isn't all, however. On a tray stolen from the dining area, Lucina's brought a smattering of helpings from Konoha's food offerings. Nothing too heavy or even too exotic, but enough to keep his energy up. (Or, so it would if he actually needed it, and Lucina's yet to realise that he doesn't.)

All of it is set down without much fanfare. ]

Here. I thought you could use some respite. [ A brief glance at his scribblings. ] - You will remember to take breaks, I hope.

[ Says Lucina, who has never taken a break in her life. ]