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ABRAXAS MODS ([personal profile] abraxasmods) wrote in [community profile] abraxasooc2021-07-18 11:55 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME #2

TEST DRIVE MEME
Welcome to the second test drive meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the two different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.

Our previous TDM has some answers to relevant questions as well, and feel free to look at our Game History page! Anything on that page - including information about the Horizon and the Singularity - can be assumed to be told to newcomers after they arrive, whether they are prisoners or honored guests. For more information on Ambrose and the apprentice mages, please see our NPCs page.

Arrival

You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.

You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.

There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.

If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either.

Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card baring the image of one of the arcana.

An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.

"I beg your pardon," he says, so absorbed in the pages of the book that he doesn't bother to look up, "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. One of my apprentices will explain everything in a moment, but please refrain from yelling and thrashing about until then. You're quite alright, and screaming gives me a hell of a headache."

Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the heavy tome, until he stops on one specific page, stares at it for a moment, and then exclaims:

"Aha!"

Scenario One: Welcome to Thorne

Ambrose's expression brightens, eyes twinkling with delight. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.

"Oh, thank heavens," he sighs, closing the book and approaching you with a sort of worn-out relief.

Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem quite relieved at his jovial outburst, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.

"Please, come with me, you're an honored guest here," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle, "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."

One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.

Once inside the castle you're taken to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (the newcomers who were summoned back in June may have a great deal of information to tell you), or you can wander around and meet the others.

There's also a dining hall stocked with a rotating 24/7 buffet in celebration of the new honored guests. Somehow, your very favorite food is part of the rotation (or at least an attempted recreation of it given the limited technology available to the Thorneans). The town surrounding the castle is all abuzz as well, with most shops and services willing to give free samples of their wares to the new arrivals.

You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).

Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and spending too much time with the prisoners will lead to some suspicion being cast upon you. If you ask anyone why the prisoners are being held there, you'll be told that they pose a potential threat to the Kingdom (and, by extension, the entire world) and are awaiting trial.

Scenario Two: Imprisoned

"Drat," Ambrose says with a frown, "And here I thought we'd worked out all the kinks this time."

The High Mage looks up from his book, wide-eyed as he stumbles back. If you look behind you, you'll notice that in the time it took Ambrose to browse his book, the tarot card hanging behind you has reversed and is now hanging upside down. An apprentice runs to snatch it from the pillar and put it back with the rest of the deck.

The apprentices seem apprehensive, but Ambrose regains his composure and resists the urge to insult their newly summoned captive. Instead, he turns to the apprentices: "Get them clothed and we'll send them to await trial."

One of the apprentices drops a baggy, rough-feeling tunic, a pair of pants, and some worn sandals in your lap and glares down at you until you put them on (if you refuse, they'll tell you they can kick you back down that well if you don't want to cooperate).

Once you're fully clothed, another apprentice clamps some heavy iron shackles around your wrists and leads you on. The High Mage is far ahead of you already, muttering some long string of Thornean curses before he stands up straight and pauses, spinning to face you.

"One more thing," he says, holding one hand in the air and chanting something under his breath, "Can't have you getting too troublesome."

If you had powers, the slight connection you still had to them slips away completely and you're left with nothing as the four apprentices drag you towards the castle. Despite your prisoner status, they will answer your questions to the best of their ability.

Once you arrive at the castle you're brought to the dungeons and thrown into a locked cell. There are four people to a cell, and two sets of bunk beds with a thin and lumpy straw mattress. If you're over six feet tall, these beds are going to be awfully uncomfortable. You might as well meet your roommates. Once per day you're dragged out to an enclosed courtyard for one hour of recreation (with some crude weights, benches, and balls lying around but not much else), where you can meet the rest of the prisoners, but you can also talk to your immediate neighbors in the cells on either side and across the hallway. Just don't yell too much or the guards will snap at you to be quiet.

Everyone in the dungeon is fed one meal a day, and for a prison meal it's decent: a bit of meat, a bun, and a salad. It would seem that the Thornean chefs take too much pride in their craft to send bad food to the dungeons. The meals are all served in equal portions, though, so the smaller prisoners may be overfed and the larger ones may be getting hungry. Feel free to fight for food or share with your cellmates.

Crudely embroidered on the back of every prison tunic is the same image that was on your card and the name of the sign beneath it. A guard may explain a bit about the sign, and will be blunt and honest but not overly negative about it.

You may be blessed with a visit from one of the more welcomed newcomers, and they may sneak you some extra food or a small book to read or they may share some of the information they've gathered. The guards will even interfere if the honored guests are being overtly cruel to the prisoners from now on.




Questions


How many slots are open?
Currently, there are only four slots open for new players. We will process activity check before opening applications, so we will have a better idea of the exact count then. Existing players can apply for a second character withour restriction.

How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Whether your character is honored or imprisoned has nothing to do with their personal morality, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into either situation.

Can I try out both scenarios?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.

What happens if my character refuses to comply with Ambrose?
Prisoners will be dragged against their will. Honored guests will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and Ambrose and the apprentice mages will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, Ambrose will warn them once that he's willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight he will make good on that promise.

My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the castle, murdering the castle staff, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other staff would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude (if they are an honored guest) or a punishment like denial of food or temporary solitary confinement (if they are a prisoner), and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Thorneans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.

I want to wildcard a prompt or use one of the prompts from the original TDM that isn't on this one (eg. the library), can I do that?
Yes!

Is the power loss for the prisoners permanent?
No, although honored guests will regain their powers first due to the lack of interference from Ambrose, the prisoners will be able to regain theirs soon enough as well.

Can the prisoners talk about anything private, or will they be overheard at all times?
There are guards patrolling the dungeon, but they aren't always within earshot. Most of the attention is being focused on the new guests, so the prisoners will have some opportunities for privacy.

The first prisoners in June were just thrown in their cells without being told they are awaiting trial. Will they be told differently now that the new prisoners are here?
Yes, all prisoners new and old will be told that the Court has shown mercy on them and they will be given a fair trial sometime in August to determine their fate.

Whether or not that's actually true - and whether they believe it, even if it is - is another story, but they will all be informed.

Can my character leave the castle?
Honored guests can leave the castle itself, but cannot leave the surrounding town.

Can my character eventually side against Thorne if I choose to make them an honored guest/can they side with Thorne if I choose to imprison them?
For this TDM, it will be easier for welcomed characters to side with Thorne and for imprisoned characters to side with one of the other two factions, so we encourage you to take a look at the factions and see where you might want your character to go.

However, that is not set in stone and if you change your mind, characters in Scenario 1 will be able to betray Thorne, and characters in Scenario 2 can work themselves into Thorne's good graces.

How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will affect characters throughout August, but our August event will wrap up the honored guests vs. prisoners plotline, so your character won't be imprisoned for too long. This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.

Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in both scenarios can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.

Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?
No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the two scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).


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ibram_gaunt: (Default)

Ibram Gaunt / Gaunt's Ghosts / The Emperor

[personal profile] ibram_gaunt 2021-07-18 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
I. By the time he gets to the room he's been assigned to, Gaunt's head is spinning faintly. He hopes he's not expected to remember all this information perfectly, because he's been given a lot in a very short time. Also, he's been on alert for Chaos magics. One doesn't get dragged from one's bed and dumped in some unknown planet very often. Or at all.

But it doesn't feel at all like Gereon or any other Chaos-tainted planet he's been to. He looks around the room, nodding at the other occupant. "Have you just arrived, too?"

II. After he spends a bit in his room, the Colonel-Commissar ventures out to explore the castle. The halls are similar enough that he gets a bit turned around, but he finds the dining hall and takes the opportunity to eat. Who knows when he may be called away again and not have a chance to eat?

Eventually, he does go out to the town. It's odd, going among civilians with no prospect of battle ahead. But he nods and smiles and makes conversation. It may not last long, after all, and he wants to enjoy it as he can.
Edited 2021-07-19 01:05 (UTC)
extremethirst: (C:)

nero | drakengard | devil

[personal profile] extremethirst 2021-07-18 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[ content warning: drakengard is a pretty dark series with dark themes. nero can be pretty abrasive and say a lot of terrible things, so just wanted to warn ahead. ]

i. new home

[ Well. Shit.

Nero didn't expect to suddenly be summoned to some far off world and be welcomed as some guest. Still, he can't help but feel a little vexed since he was on a journey with One to murder their way to world peace -- or whatever the fuck that One believed he was doing.

He can't help but feel even more annoyed at the comment about how his magic will return to him in a week. That's a laugh. His magic has been sealed for over a hundred years, but he does like the idea of this "summoning" undoing that seal. Though, he doubts that it would. The old man may be a fuckface, but he isn't a fuck-up.

But whatever, he actually has some nice digs for once -- and he isn't alone, either. ]


Looks like we're roommates! Aren't you lucky?

ii. sup losers

[ Of course, he has to go down to the dungeons as soon as he hears about it. He can't help but find it just incredibly hilarious that there are people that got summoned against their will, and apparently were summoned "wrong." Being lucky is really unfair and unjust when you get down to it.

Nero promises that he won't do anything that he isn't supposed to, and he means it. As hilarious as he finds everything, he isn't about to jeopardize anything until he finds out more about what is going on. Going this far and fucking up so much -- I have to wonder what exactly these people have planned.

His smile sharpens. I guess I'll see where it goes.

Standing outside one of the cells, he cocks his head to the side: ]


So, have any of you decided whose in charge among you? Or are ya all pretty buddy-buddy?

iii. wandering

[ The elf may be abrasive and crude in his language, but he follows the orders given to him by the letter. He does exactly what he is told and when, but always with a wide, sharp smile on his face -- like he's laughing at some private joke that no one else knows.

He sometimes is in the dining hall and enjoys the buffet of food available to him. Sometimes, he feels like being kind and taking a few pieces of what he's enjoying down to the cells to give to the prisoners: ]


A little bit of kindness goes a long way, doesn't it? Hey, why don't you tell me something interesting and I'll see if I can get you more. [ What is the "interesting" thing that he wants? Well, he just wants to shoot the shit, or so he says. ]

[ And sometimes, he heads into town. He's curious about the people and what it is that they're doing; he's curious about their lives and how they're handling everything that is going on around them. He wonders how much anxiety and fear and anger is bubbling beneath the surface of warm, welcoming faces to "honored guests."

Nero laughs to himself -- sharp and harsh -- and stops those that are in similar tunics like himself. ]


Oy, come "shopping" with me, honored guest.
hylife: (06)

link | loz: breath of the wild | strength

[personal profile] hylife 2021-07-18 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Arrival: Scenario One

Link is... confused, but outwardly very calm. He doesn't yell or scream, or even ask very many questions of the mage's apprentices as they explain the situation to him. After all, this isn't the first time Link has awoken in unfamiliar surroundings to great fanfare and hints at saving a kingdom he's never heard of from some great danger. It isn't even the first time he's been told of some legendary great feats he's expected to accomplish, despite not feeling very powerful at the moment at all. He has his strength and his sword, but the Sheikah Slate refuses to respond... nor does he hear the whispers of his friends' ghosts in his ears, telling him their power is at his disposal.

It's lonely... and unnerving. Link has no idea what to expect next.

That is also a familiar feeling. He is okay. This, too, is something that he can do.


II. Out & About

Link will inspect his room closely once he's taken there, greeting any fellow residents or newcomers with a cordial nod and silence. He seems aloof, but not unfriendly. It might be a little strange that he leaves literally nothing in the room unturned, however. When he wanders into the town, Link takes great interest in any wares related to food or fighting. He will try on or test out virtually anything he can, usually without asking.

Sorry if you happen to get bumped with a wooden sword, or if a short, blond, and very excited elf-looking man happens to step right in front of the pastries you were admiring.


III. Buffet

The buffet also attracts Link's attention, and he can be found there at any hour, plates stacked high with all manner of foods while he stuffs his face with as much vigor as a dog who hasn't eaten in three days. If something on your plate looks unfamiliar to him, Link will point to the food, his mouth to full to speak but his eyebrows raised curiously.


IV. The Dungeons

When Link catches wind of the dungeons, it prickles at his sense of justice. Why are some arrivals imprisoned, while others are honored? There must be a reason, and he wants to know it. The thought that his frequent trips to visit the prisoners might make him look suspicious to the Thorneans doesn't cross his mind - Link doesn't often think that far ahead.

If he meets someone who seems hungry - or who he's noticed giving up their food for others - he will sneak small foods such as apples and loaves of bread through the bars, completely unprompted. Take it or don't; Link will continue bringing it.


V. Wildcard

hmu!! will match format, too.
Edited 2021-07-18 21:11 (UTC)
towerjunkie: (Clouds are gathering)

Roland Deschain | The Dark Tower | Death

[personal profile] towerjunkie 2021-07-18 09:07 pm (UTC)(link)
1. first things first (multiple locations)
[ There's something almost comical about the sight of a tall, lanky and almost unkempt man in the soft silk robes that everyone will recognise as belonging to someone newly arrived. The crow's feet around his eyes and worn, tanned skin that speak of a life lived out in the sun and rain and --not to speak of the dark hair streaked with white-- are such a contrast to the luxurious fabric, that it makes the self-rolled cigarette in the corner of his mouth and missing index and middle fingers on his right hand almost unnoticable.

Roland looks up when someone passes nearby, whether it's the dormitory he's been assigned to, the library, or one of the many balconies overlooking the town. His gaze is intense, he's too suspicious of everything still to let his guard down around anyone, but after a moment he exhales a thin stream of smoke and gives a perfunctory nod. ]


Hile, stranger. You know where a man might find himself some decent clothes around here?

2. winner winner chicken dinner (dining hall)
[ Apologies to whoever is behind the tall man in the queue making his way around the table. He's stopped dead, staring open-mouthed at what looks like a completely normal dish of meat and assorted vegetables set inamongst the others on the table.

Maybe hassle him a little to get him to move on? He seems fixated on it and he's blocking access to the bacon. ]


3. it's the hard-knock life for you (dungeon)
[ The smell of dirt and unwashed bodies is the worst thing that hits Roland as he descends into the dungeons. Prepared for wails of despair and the metal taste of blood in the air, it's almost pleasant.

It makes him wonder what Thorne and Ambrose really plan to do with all these 'accidents'. There's nothing to be gained in keeping them all alive if there isn't some purpose they can serve. He files the thought away.

Roland wanders the cells, lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, making sure to pass by each cell he can find and see who exactly it is that Thorne didn't want but have decided to keep. He's unashamed about staring wordlessly in at the prisoners like they're caged entertainment, and for the most part he won't engage with anyone who looks like they'd rather be left alone. But he'll respond to anyone who talks to him, and for anyone who looks engaged-- ]


Doesn't seem so bad down here.

[ His tone is deadpan. Is he mocking you? Is it a joke? It's hard to tell. ]

[ ooc: I'm here for wildcards if there's another kind of interaction you're interested in! Hit me up at [plurk.com profile] sprakles! ]
Edited 2021-07-18 21:07 (UTC)
driving: (pic#13326491)

billy hargrove / stranger things / the chariot

[personal profile] driving 2021-07-18 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
1 / dungeon [ open to cellmates and visitors ]
[ Billy always imagined he'd get sent to jail for his unpaid speeding tickets, or reckless driving, or perhaps a drunken bar brawl combined with owning a fake ID.

Now he's in some jail in another universe for, as far as he knows, jack shit. And to put salt on the wound, this fucked up fantasy land seems a lot more dungeons & dragons and a lot less heavy metal album cover than he'd like. If he had to end up somewhere like this, couldn't there be flaming battle-axes and skeleton warriors and people wearing nothing but bikinis and loincloths everywhere? He knows some nerds who might get a kick out of this place, but he's already fed up with it.

He sits slumped against the cell wall, looking at either his unfortunate cellmate or whichever visitor happens to be passing by. ]
You got a cig I can bum off of you? Today'd be a hell of a day to quit smoking.

2 / rec yard
[ Billy's never been to prison before - probably because of the fact that he's barely eighteen, not because he's ever been on his best behavior - but he has seen a lot of prison movies. And if he knows one thing, it's that you have to prove you're a tough guy as soon as possible so no one decides that you're weak and they can push you around.

He's moved high schools before and had to assert himself as the top dog. This can't be too different, can it? First he'd have to figure out who's got the biggest, baddest reputation here and then he'd have to beat that guy up.

Until he figures that out, he can start by antagonizing whoever happens to be nearby. He glares at whoever happens to make eye contact first, and hopes to god that his eyes aren't still red from that cry he had in his cell after he was sure everyone else was asleep. ]


The fuck're you looking at? [ He saunters over to them, fists clenched and chest puffed out. ]

3 / wildcard
[ anything goes, or feel free to hit me up at [plurk.com profile] dandymott or vellocet#7191 if you want to plot! ]
princessvegas: (017. young james dean)

Julie Lawry | The Stand | The Wheel of Fortune

[personal profile] princessvegas 2021-07-18 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
1 | Dungeon [open to visitors and other prisoners]

[ The last thing Julie remembered before waking up in the abyss was a mad dash through the hotel, ending in blackness as lightning struck her. So she was, understandably, more disoriented than most people might be. She is also naturally much more obstinate and bratty than most people, and all of this is only to say that she was very forcibly dragged into the dungeons and thrown into a cell.

Shockingly, this is not something that she's cool with. She flings herself at the door as soon as it closes, arms stretched through the bars as if to grab at the departing guards, her voice screeching across the dungeons. ]


You chickenshit motherfuckers, come back here and let me out! I didn't do nothin'! You can't do this, what about the Constitution?!

[ Julie does not know much about the Constitution, but she does know that she gets a trial, right? Like, a speedy one!

When the guards don't heed her impotent screaming, she just sinks to the floor with a groan and buries her face in her hands. She's a long way from New Vegas now. ]


2 | Rec Yard

[ Isn't this what solitary is? 23 hours in a cell and one in the yard? Of course, Julie has cellmates, but she figures that's almost worse than being in solitary confinement, because she is now in a permanent bad mood. Going from being local royalty to being a prisoner isn't great for one's outlook on life.

She doesn't even want to be in the yard, really, but she supposes it's better than continuing to sit in the dank dark dungeon. She claims one of the weight benches and then does nothing more than sit on it, back against the fence as she slumps sullenly, looking around the yard. She'll talk if people want to, though -- in fact, she'll start the conversation.

Julie has spent enough of her life with no one at all to talk to. She doesn't intend to go through that again. ]


I need a freakin' drink.

3 | wildcard

[ hmu at [plurk.com profile] sarahwand to plot! ]
no_echo: (AS_170)

Inej Ghafa (Grishaverse) | Scenario One | Strength

[personal profile] no_echo 2021-07-18 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
i. town
She knows how they ply you with sweet words first. How kindly gifts can just be bait - how there can be somewhere, not far away, tallying up every debt you accrue, adding it to your total, building a chain made of red links recorded in a heavy ledger.

So she takes the clothes when she first arrives, but accepts little else. But a person can only go so long without food or drink, so eventually, she has to give in.

When she does, though, she doesn't visit the dining hall - that's too easy, too simple, to be anything but a trap. The town seems like a better bet. The people out there will have any mixture of motivations, good and bad, but mostly they'll probably just be trying to get by. Bartering with them for a bite to eat - and maybe a knife, while she's at it - might be difficult, but it won't be dangerous.

Only she finds that they want to give their things away for free. It's confusion more than fear that has her backing away from the earnest merchant trying to convince her to take a bit of cheese, saying, "No, that's all right. I'd - I'm looking to buy it."

ii. lurking
Of course, the Wraith is most comfortable in certain circumstances. And those circumstances are, by and large, up high, in the shadows. Someone very perceptive or likewise reckless might be able to spot her - or someone familiar might find her dropping soundlessly down beside them.
Edited 2021-07-18 23:06 (UTC)
fretful: starboard | ij (Default)

wylie hargrave ( original ) death

[personal profile] fretful 2021-07-18 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
( north wing )
living area
[ what a fucking day, and it's barely gotten started. when he's shown to his room--with roommates, he's never had roommates in his life--he just drops down onto the only unoccupied bed, flinging a heavily-scarred arm over his eyes with a heaved sigh.

his head hurts, he doesn't know what to make of this shit, and he can only imagine how pissed off the one that sleeps beneath the roots is if it's noticed he's missing. ]


Do we know anything about how to get home? [ he asks the room at large, hoping one of the other people in the space has some idea. ]


library
[ well, fuck it. if he's trapped here for the time being, he may as well try to brush up on whatever magic's available in this place. it's not like he gets this opportunity at home-- as far as he knows, his family and its library are sort of unique in the world. and even if they aren't, it's not like there's a convention for people like the hargraves to meet others like them.

so naturally he visits the library.

unfortunately, it seems to be mostly local history and the like, which is useless to wylie, but.. is that..? ]


Hey. [ he pushes his glasses up his nose, glancing toward the person he'd greeted. ] .. Can you get that book-- [ he points to one on the top shelf. ] --down for me? [ wylie's small and he's made his peace with it. ]


( wildcard )
[ idk encounter him in the dining hall poking suspiciously at a plate of food, or out in town trying to figure out how to obtain some more reasonable clothing, or poking his nose into corners in the castle he probably shouldn't be in. info about wylie is located here. ]
abyssions: (pic#10145257)

yuri lowell | tales of vesperia | the tower

[personal profile] abyssions 2021-07-19 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
living quarters

[Yuri has never been called an honored guest in his life, and he looks bemused all the way to the north wing. He doesn't fight or rail against the mages like some of the newcomers—it just seems like a waste of time, especially considering they're willing to answer his questions. Besides, he'd prefer not to get arrested for the thousandth time. Still, when he hears that they've heard of his exploits, he can't help but be confused. Shouldn't they have gone for Flynn, instead?

He doesn't even question the whole "dragging people here without permission" thing. All the explanation he needs is that they work for a bunch of nobles. Those types don't really seem to care who they step on, as long as it helps them. So, all things considered, he seems surprisingly chill when he enters the common area. Maybe annoyingly so to some of the other newcomers.]


Are they seriously going to make us stay in this castle?

[Because God, all this richy rich bullshit might give him hives.]

dungeon

[Things become progressively less chill when Yuri finds out that some of the people that have been kidnapped—because how can he think of it any other way—are being held in the dungeons. There's always that possibility that they've stuck the worst of the worst here, but he suspects he might not agree with their categorizations. He takes some extra food from the dining hall, sticks it in a small bag one of the shopkeepers practically fell over herself to gift to him, and heads down. Once he's sure the guards aren't paying attention, he approaches the closest cell, bag slung loosely over one shoulder.]

So, did they tell you what you're in for?

wildcard

[Hit me with something random or feel free to bug me at [plurk.com profile] cephalopods!]
chainveil: (Default)

Liliana Vess | Magic: The Gathering | Wheel of Fortune

[personal profile] chainveil 2021-07-19 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
+2
Welcome Banquet | As Above

[ It's the sort of celebration she would often claim is deserved of her presence and power, yet it doesn't reflect how strangely empty she feels inside. A boon--that is what this should be. It wouldn't be the first time that Liliana has conveniently planeswalked away at her moment of peril, but this time it was different--this time it wasn't by her hand. This time, she chose to forgo it all for the sake of--

--friends.

She feels sick to her stomach.

Was it even worth it? Forgoing the contract? Everything? Would she burst into flames at any second? The sensation of the leylines of her contract boiling her skin as she turned that dreadhorde against the elder dragon is still fresh in her mind. The prepared meats on the buffet table only remind her of the scent of her own flesh turning alight.

Liliana wrinkles her nose and snatches a glass of wine, downing it in three succinct gulps. ]


Ugh.

[ Free hand on her hip, she absently holds out the now empty glass to whomever is closest to her. ]

Take care of that, won't you?

-3
Dungeons | As So Below

[ Once she learned that not all of those summoned here were treated with such exaltation, it was only a matter of time before she would wander her way down into the dungeons. A fate she has likely avoided herself by turning on her would-be benefactor...mayhaps much earlier. Those she had once worked with were not all forgiving, nor would she say aloud that she wants any sort of forgiveness.

But what sort of crimes does Thorne hold in contempt? The castle staff has been rather vague, unfortunately. And Liliana finds some sense of familiarity in the dank surroundings of the darkened stone halls. The scent of rust is a little too strong and it lacks the true mark of death that one may find in such cages of woe, but that may come in time, if anything about these stays of execution is true.

She walks down the corridors between the cells with the air of someone who could be idly passing by and window shopping. That is until she pauses, doubling back to a particular cell. ]


Well, now...

[ Liliana lightly tosses some long dark hair over her shoulder before she comes to the front of the cell, placing both hands on her hips. ]

You look like you've seen better days.

-7
Wildcard!

[ Anything goes! You can also always PM this journal or hit me up on [plurk.com profile] doggystyle ]
antichristsplusone: (Well it could be worse)

Martin Blackwood | The Magnus Archives (Spoilers to E80) | Hierophant

[personal profile] antichristsplusone 2021-07-19 01:53 am (UTC)(link)

Prisoner

Locked Up
Trial is the only word of all that weird shit with the well that Martin's registered. He'd had a very long few days, trapped in those bloody tunnels under the Archives (if that's even where he and Tim were, he's not entirely sure it was at this point and he hasn't had the time to really think about it) and then finding Jon's office...

The prison outfit he's in itches, and it takes all of his self-control not to start scratching himself raw from the way it makes his skin crawl, unable to keep the image of worms trying to burrow into his skin fully at bay; but even then his hands don't stop fidgeting. He keeps his feet off the floor, at least, sitting cross-legged at the back of one of the bunks, as far from the indefensible bars as he can.

He looks a little bit on edge when people walk past the cell, but given that he's just a completely normal looking dude - kind of fat, kind of tall, kind of curly hair but otherwise utterly generic and forgettable, really - it's understandable. He looks like he should be a baker or a gardener, not in a prison cell. But when someone not in a prison or guard outfit walks by, he makes a point to stand up and try and catch their attention.

"Um-- excuse me, but I think there's been something of a mistake?"


In the Yard
The smart thing to do would be not to make a target of himself. Luckily Martin's spent most of his life doing that - he was the kid no-one bothered bullying because he didn't react interestingly enough, so he mostly got left alone. But all the people here are fantastically interesting, and despite his nerves about the whole situation, at the very least he knows how to talk to people.

Well, mostly. To people that aren't horribly traumatised by supernatural whatevers anyway.

He tries to be wary but he's largely indiscriminate with who he walks up to. His London accent is surprisingly chipper as he offers his target a worried smile. "Well, I, uh. I suppose all this could be worse, couldn't it?"
neverlight: (08)

brad bakshi | mythic quest | wheel of fortune

[personal profile] neverlight 2021-07-19 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
> in the castle

[ He'd never admit it, but once there's enough distance between him and the well, castle looming ahead, Brad is kind of geeking out. It's like a rendering come to life. It's still stupid, of course. The medieval fantasy thing works okay for a setting, less so for real life. But unless he's somehow ended up on the trip to end all trips, this is just life now.

It is kind of cool.

He ignores the apprencite's excited yammering, rolling his eyes when they don't shut up, although tales of his exploits does make him raise his eyebrows. Battle royale was really that lucrative, huh? Nice.

Also nice is that the inside of the castle is just as impressive as the outside, no details spared, genuinely luxurious, even by his own modern standards. If he was going to be ripped away to a medieval fantasy realm then at least it's not a shit hole. When he's shown to the living quarters, Brad flops down on the bed that's just become his and lets out a satisfied sigh. ]


Okay, this is good stuff.

[ The dining hall and library only get cursory glances from him — nobody needs a 24/7 buffet, and the apprentice mage was already boring enough on their own — but seeing actual magic from the study hall catches his eye. It's one thing to be passively summoned; it's something else entirely to see actual magic up close and in real life.

Again, it's definitely stupid. ... That said. ]


This is just a thing here, huh? Anybody can pick it up?

[ Asking without asking, thank you very much. ]


> around town

[ If he's here, he's gotta check out the goods. Not having any money of his own is incredibly frustrating, but hey. He'll figure it out. It's what he's good at.

There's a line between not taking any free samples so as to avoid getting hooked on something stupid and offending any potential business partners (though he has higher ambitions for himself, naturally. He currently lives in a fucking castle). It's easier to turn to someone else instead, solicit their opinions, figure out what might be worth getting into down the line. ]


What do you think? How much would you pay for this?


> dungeon

[ Call it personal curiosity. Brad can't help but check out the dungeon, well aware that this place's general aesthetic means it's not going to look like any prison he'd have anticipated. His suspicions are confirmed as soon as he descends the staircase — yeah, wouldn't have wanted to end up in here. This is the shit hole he'd have expected.

He lets out a low whistle as he walks down the hall, glancing in on the cells lining it. ]
They're not fucking around here, huh?


> wildcard

[ arii#6412 or [plurk.com profile] cadiai for any plotting! ]
gruesome: (G - Running)

Some | OC | The Empress

[personal profile] gruesome 2021-07-19 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
Some is something the people of the castle haven't yet seen - something entirely inhuman pulled from the well. He's very aware of the stares as an apprentice leads him to the North Wing. He towers above the humans, ducking a little through most doors, the crest of fur that runs from the crown of his skull down between his shoulders stiff with nerves. Just being among them is nerve-wracking - he can tell by scent that there are no other grues here and never have been. It's a human place, like the places his hunter siblings told him about. Dangerous places. So he's careful in the way he moves, keeping his arms close, his steps soft, and his forebody lowered - making himself smaller, less threatening.

Though the two mouths full of shark teeth and the eight eyes will unsettle people no matter what he does.

Overnight

It's the first night in his new room that he learns something new about people - they go dormant. He can hear them all breathing - they're not dead in their nests, but they're so still, so quiet.

Gingerly, he creeps from his own bed, staying low to the floor as he approaches his nearest roommate, all of his eyes wide in the dark. They reflect the little light that comes in through the window in flat green disks as he lifts one hand to gently poke. What are they doing?

Elsewhere

By day, Some stays very strictly to interior parts of the castle. He avoids any windows, even rooms with windows if he can help it. As a precaution, he wears the blanket off his bed around like a cloak, just in case. He finds the library, and likes it, though he doesn't know what the hundreds and hundreds of bound piles of... leaves? Skins? are. Perching atop the shelves feels good, like the rock ledges back home. He finds the baths and spends a good half a day soaking in the heat, occupying most of one of the warmest pools (sorry for the floating fur).

By night, however, he begins to venture farther afield. He doesn't confine himself to the ground, either. It's easy for him to scale the castle walls and perch on rooftops, or to climb the trees that pepper the town. Never too high, though - the people stay on the ground mostly and it's them he's interested in, and after the first pair of guards lectured him about not going too far, he's behaved himself.
adventageous: (048)

Alice Elliot | Shadow Hearts | The Empress

[personal profile] adventageous 2021-07-19 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Arrival: Welcome to Thorne

[Coming to in the abyss doesn't faze Alice in the least. She's just died, consumed by the curse she knowingly inherited, and she mistakes her state for her soul traveling to the hereafter. It isn't until an ache begins in her lungs and a hand reaches through to yank her out that she realizes she's been floating in a deep pool of water and, somehow, isn't dead.

It's a disorienting transition, to say the least. Alice doesn't even register that's she's being spoken to until one of the apprentices hands her some clothing and tells her to get dressed. She quickly obliges and starts paying attention to what Ambrose and the apprentice have to say. Not that much of what she's being told makes sense--all she's able to piece together is that this Kingdom of Thorne has summoned her here to help save the world from some sort of nebulous doom.

When she's finally left to her own devices in the North Wing, she lets out a deep sigh in appreciation of the silence and the opportunity to start processing it all. However, she isn't alone in the room she's been left in. With a smile that's equal parts exhausted and friendly, she greets her roommate.]


Hello, my name is Alice. Were you brought here just now, too?


II. Honored Guest

[Alice isn't sure she trusts that the situation is as cut-and-dry as she's been told. Honored guest or not, she can't shake the feeling that she's being held here. It's not dissimilar to how she was treated when she was held captive by the Japanese Imperial Army--everyone is cordial, sometimes even kind, but it's clear that she's there with a Purpose that she has no say in.

Of course, she's not the same broken, terrified woman she was back then and has no intention of just sitting back and letting things happen to her. As such, she's taking advantage of the looseness of her chains and exploring where she can. In this case, it's the town surrounding the castle. However, she's gathered precious little information so far aside from what she's already been told with a side of rosy descriptions of various goods and services.

It's disappointing, surely, but Alice can hardly say she's surprised. Eventually she starts heading back toward the castle, idly looking at a small bar of soap she's been given as she's lost in thought. Since she isn't looking where she's going, she ends up knocking shoulders with another person.]


Oh, I'm so sorry. I really should look where I'm going.

Are you all right?

[Alice is a slight figure, and unlikely to have hurt anyone by bumping into them, but she still wants to be sure.]


III. The Dungeons

[Murmurings among fellow guests and residents of the castle alike suggest that not all who were brought here are being treated as well as Alice has. Once she learns of the dungeons' existence, she makes it a point to check it out. It's possible that the official story of the prisoners' dangerous nature is accurate, but it's just as likely that it's not. God knows she's been held captive for no reason before based on nothing more than the whims of whoever is in charge.

The guards let her pass, although one of them makes a pointed comment about 'not being able to help everyone' while looking directly at the embroidery on her tunic, and she descends into the dark corridors to take a look at who's there. As she visits, she locks eyes with one of the prisoners and feels compelled to say something. Surely, this person must wonder what she's doing there.]


Hello. I don't mean any harm.

[She glances over at the nearest guard, as if she expects him to intervene somehow.]

Are they treating you decently down here?

[There's more than a little concern in her voice when she asks.]
valeas: (☾ c o l l e r a)

emilia di carlo, kingdom of the wicked | the high priestess & scenario two

[personal profile] valeas 2021-07-20 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
I. THE CELLS
[ her hand lifts to clutch the smooth bone of her horned amulet, but she finds her neck bare. anxiety sticks to the walls of her throat at the realization: her amulet is gone, along with the momentum she'd finally gained in the pursuit of her answers. her justice.

emilia feared this as a child above all. she feared the bars of a cage, and the wood of a pyre. for several minutes, she well and truly believes it's finally happened. hunters have found her, and the trial itself will be to determine if there's evil in her soul. but fear is the enemy of logic, and she stamps it down long enough to decide this conclusion makes little sense. she's never seen this ambrose rhett in her life, besides.

the threat of the well worked long enough to coax her into prisoner garbs, but she struggles at the sight of the shackles, and she struggles as she's led further on. if she quiets at all, it's to try and make out what the high mage is chanting in the hopes of recognizing a spell.

the chanting concludes, and identify the spell she does not, but emilia feels what lingers of her weakened magic slip away. she goes still as the world dulls around her. rage swells up in her chest at the loss, like the loss of a vital limb, and to be helpless to stop it.

a snarl, choked and grievous, escapes as she's pushed past the high mage and thrown into her cell.

you'll pay for this, she thinks but does not say. underestimation has served her well in the past, and so has caution. if she is to find a way back home to achieve her ends, she needs to survive this, and that means not letting her temper get the best of her.

she attempts to breathe through it, through the fury and anxiety and confusion, and eventually others are tossed into the cell along with her. by then, she is contained once more, but there is no mistaking the gleam in her eye.
] Did they tell you what you're on trial for?
II. THE COURTYARD
[ the guards are a continuous presence, but emilia does note their focus is elsewhere every now and then, and she sets about timing them to see if she can determine a pattern. as far as tasks go, it's hardly the most engrossing, but she'd like to keep track if she can.

if only so that she can begin to gather as much solid information as possible without drawing too much attention to herself. hiding in her cell and giving into her fear and despair won't get her anywhere. action and evidence might.

(she flexes her hands whenever she studies the guards, hoping for the spark at her fingertips to return, but it doesn't.)

no, her magic has not returned to her, but there have been visitors, and they move freely where she cannot. should someone be within earshot, she'll ask thoughtfully,
] How is it decided, do you know? Guest or prisoner.

[ there is some restraint to her voice, even as the wrongness of this — the anger — sits in the space between her ribs, and grows. ]
III. WILDCARD
[ feel free to PM this journal if you'd like to plot something else out, or surprise me!
i love brackets and prose equally, so please go with your preference and i'll match you.
]
Edited 2021-07-20 09:54 (UTC)
lamentedinnocence: (lass mich dich nicht lieben)

Leon Belmont | Castlevania: Lament of Innocence | The Wheel of Fortune

[personal profile] lamentedinnocence 2021-07-20 02:22 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Sleepless Night 🗡

[ He’s slept in places far less comfortable, on forest floors or in smothering heat. It isn’t the straw mattress that keeps him from doing so this time. It isn’t the sound of mice skittering across the stone floor either. Nearly two days awake, Leon lays on his bunk with his back to the bars of the cell. Long, vertical shadows cast across a crowded space. The torchlight from the hallway slips through them, flickering orange and faintly illuminating the company that shares his enclosure. Tired of squinting and guessing, he’s finished wondering whatever the different emblems on their tunics might mean.

He thinks instead of the home he doesn’t have and of Sara, no longer able to miss him or pray for his return. Despite how his weighted eyelids beg him to, Leon can’t sleep when he remembers that nothing waits for him anymore.

A loud and sudden clatter pulls him from his thoughts. His cellmate? A visitor? He’s too groggy to distinguish one sound from another. He jolts to sit up on reflex anyway, shackled ankles pulling chains across the ground as he does. He has to affirm that the lot of them aren't in any danger. ]


Who—?


II. An Offering 🗡

[ Maybe they’d seemed unwell, or they’d had all of their meals until now stolen by a cellmate. Whatever the context, Leon has noticed. He passes an arm through the gaps of his own door, just outside the neighboring prisoner’s reach. Lodging his shoulder into the space as far as it’ll go, his sleeve rides up the length of his bicep and crumples close to him against a cold iron bar. In his hand is a roll of bread. Food. ]

You can have mine.

[ Should the prisoner extend their arm, they may be close enough to accept. Should an honored guest pass through without paying enough attention, however, they may cause Leon to retract his arm back into his pen or otherwise trip over his offering. ]


III. Fresh Idea 🗡

( Feel free to plot with me if you have something in mind for Leon! You can reach out via PM or on Plurk at [plurk.com profile] joousama. )
spawnofsatan: (28)

Michael Langdon | AHS: Apocalypse | The Devil

[personal profile] spawnofsatan 2021-07-20 02:38 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Dungeon [open to all]
[ After a rather rude interaction at the well he'd been unceremoniously pulled out of and being tossed in a musty cell, Michael is annoyed. Perplexed as to how this even happened, because the last thing he knows with certainty is that the witches had done a spell that had been his unmaking. Honestly, he should have saved the gloating and not underestimated them. Cordelia had been a shock.

Well.. it's not as if it matters now, does it? This isn't a place that should exist, yet here they all are. Being blocked from his abilities puts him in a sour mood, too. It hadn't been so long ago that he'd been struggling with them. They were a comfort that he no longer has access to. They'd better pray he doesn't get them back.

Not willing to sit down just yet, and filled with a bit too much energy for his liking, Michael takes to pacing the small length of the cell, not unlike a caged beast. His gaze roams over to whomever he happens to see first, whether it's someone as trapped as he is or someone on the better side of the bars. ]


What have they told you about this place?


Rec Yard
[ It's not much for recreation, merely a failed attempt at providing some sort of distraction from the darkness and damp their cells provide. He's taken up one of the small leather balls, tossing it up and catching it. Mostly, he's bored. He's used to playing the waiting game because the best-laid plans are the ones that are meticulous and drawn out, but he doesn't have the upper hand here and he greatly dislikes it. However, people are the greatest resource one can possess, and they've made the rather poor decision of pushing them all together and letting them mingle. The easiest way to sow dissent is to let people talk. ]

I don't suppose they've offered you a valid reason for your incarceration?
souille: (Default)

Abigail Hobbs | Hannibal | The Hanged Man

[personal profile] souille 2021-07-20 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
The Dungeons

i.)


[ At mealtime, Abigail shovels everything into her mouth as quickly as she can, having sized up the other prisoners and realising that physically she wouldn't stand a chance if one of them tried to take her food from her. She glances around nervously at those nearby, silently willing them to leave her be. ]


ii.)

[ Her roommates will already be fed up with her by the first night. She sleeps lightly, tossing and turning in her bunk, the lumpy mattress and rough tunic just adding to her discomfort. She murmurs to herself in her sleep, the same words over and over: I'm sorry-- It's my fault-- Please don't look at me like that--

At some point in the small hours she sits bolt upright, panting heavily as she tries to shake off her nightmares and reorient herself. ]



iii.)

[ Wildcard! Hit me up and I'll post a starter for your character. ]
belltowers: (five)

augustine bertrand | original | the sun

[personal profile] belltowers 2021-07-20 08:57 pm (UTC)(link)
the cells;
"This. Is. Ridiculous."

She's pacing back and forth, trying to figure out exactly how she got here; then she's flopping on the bed, trying to figure out exactly how she got here. Honestly, part of it is extremely cool. A whole other world - how absolutely amazing is that? On the other hand, prison? For what, shoplifting ten years ago? Longer, now.

"Is it just illegal to not have magical abilities now, is that what's going on here?" It's a mutter, as she runs her hands halfway through her hair and then just tugs on it, frustrated. "Fantasy world bigotry? Or what?"

While there is no one in particular she's talking to, anyone can answer.

the rec yard;
Air! Outdoors time! Walking! Things could be worse.

They could still be a lot better, like not being in mystery world jail (even if 'mystery world' still appeals to Gus' nature and internal sense of intrigue) -- being in mystery world, but not jail being the one that appeals the most to her at the moment -- but they could be a lot worse. Rather than the frustrated pacing of her shared cell, when in the rec yard Gus is taking advantage of the available space to ... dance.

She's proving her mettle as a classically trained ballerina (though she no longer is one, she still knows how to dance), and taking advantage of the space around her. With no music it's just stretches and some fancier moves, but this young woman can leap. It's not a hard stretch to imagine she could kick a guard in the face, if she really wanted to, and yeah, she's considered it.

Just give her a reason.

She'd much rather have a reason to help someone else out, though. With something that isn't face-kicking.
piqure: (Default)

peter parker | mcu (end of infinity war) | the fool

[personal profile] piqure 2021-07-21 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
> meet your roommates

[ peter wasn’t expecting to wake up - in as much as anyone can expect anything at all in that terrifying fade to nothingness. so imagine his surprise when he does open his eyes. albeit almost drowning, or expecting to, with a flail of gangly limbs before he's gasping for air on solid, hard stone.

although, he isn’t sure if he’s just - imagining this. if this is some spell of the stones and that right now mister stark is in still trouble. he isn't sure if maybe he was just dumped out into some alternate universe, convinced even more so when the one who had announced himself as the high mage (of course, of course that's what he would be called) keeps talking. talking about another war - some war, not his war -

and peter cuts him off - it would almost be rude, if it wasn't for the blind panic. the no, you don't understand, i have to get back, something close to pleading on wobbly knees. he gets nowhere after several rounds of circular arguments that make his head spin and he finally backs off, dejected.

he tracks into the room he was given and sits on a bed for a moment too long, staring ahead of him and trying to parse out the events. he is without a suit, without his web-shooters, without anyone else he knows here and it’s hard not to feel alone.

he tries to ignore the stinging in his eyes, and takes a deep breath, ready to venture out until someone walks in. it makes him start, jump up from the bed with a hurried -
] Oh, hi, I was just - [ he huffs, grimaces and tries for a very awkward wave. ] Ah - sorry, hi, I'm Peter Parker. Your new roommate.

> library

[ look, the best way to get acquainted with things you don’t know is: by doing, by seeing and by learning.

reading seemed like the best peter could stomach right now. watching anything made his nerves ring, hairs standing on end, and while the whole display of cosmic powers was inarguably really, really awesome, it was also kind of a lot when you didn’t understand a lick of it. so he’s picked up every book he could find on magic, and magic technology and anything in between.

after a moment, surrounded by open books and a bread roll, peter will periodically exclaim something about - woah and that’s seriously cool, but it lacks his usual excitement.

all for nothing, this helps very explicitly not think about what’s back home.

he’s spent the last three hours not thinking about it.
]

> wildcard ota for anything else! find him wandering around, getting lost, or pm me for any other ideas!
anemonemine: (pic#15043616)

Anemone | Wings of Fire | The Chariot

[personal profile] anemonemine 2021-07-21 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
GAY BABY JAIL:
Ugh, this is even worse than the dorms at Jade Mountain. Who sleeps on straw? MudWings, probably. She's going to get so dirty in here. She's going to get gross, dusty straw stuck in her gills. She can't even appreciate how little and cute all of the stuff sized for scavengers is, because she's too busy freaking out!

She's really trying not to, but this is all a lot! Her powers are gone, her bracelet is gone, and she hasn't seen a single other dragon since she woke up here.

Anemone shoots an uneasy look at the first person who catches her eye -- maybe another prisoner, maybe someone passing by outside. "Hey... you can talk, right? I am going to look so dumb if you can't."


GAY BABY RATIONS:
The single meal is absolutely not enough for a growing dragonet, and especially not one who prefers fish. Anemone picks at hers, wrinkling her nose a little. But as unenthused as she seems about her food, she seems way more concerned that someone else is going to steal it. She tents her wings over the dish like a hawk and keeps glancing accusingly at the other inhabitants of her cell.


GAY BABY OUTDOOR ENRICHMENT:
At first when they all got dragged out to the courtyard Anemone thought she was maybe going to get to see some water, but no: there's not even a puddle out here. Her scales are going to get so nasty. Stretching out her pale pink wings -- at least there's room to do that out here -- she allows herself a frustrated sigh with just a little bit of a whine to it. She wishes she knew what to do. Without her powers, she feels as indecisive as Turtle. And, ugh, isn't that the kind of mean snotty thing she wouldn't be thinking if she still had her enchanted pearl bracelet? Does it even matter, if there are only scavengers here (or "humans", or whatever)? Anemone has never eaten a scavenger personally, but that's mainly just because she's never really had to catch her own food. It would definitely be way too weird to eat something that can talk, but... they are still basically prey, right? It's not like she really needs to treat them like they're dragons.

Would Turtle think something like that? She pauses, and frowns. Would Tamarin...?

Ugh! She hates this! She hates having to think about whether she's being nice enough! Frustrated, she swipes a rock with her front talons -- only to watch it bounce off the wall next to her and ding one of her fellow prisoners in the knee.

"Um! Sorry?"

She sounds like she could be a bit more sorry.


GAY BABY WILDCARD:
Please hit me up if you'd like to do something different! I'm also up for matching format if you'd prefer to tag with brackets. Anemone is a juvenile quadrupedal dragon about the size of a pony, here's a lil picture of approximately what she looks like!
Edited 2021-07-21 02:32 (UTC)
eightfoldfiend: (Kiss me like the apocalypse.)

Yuber | Suikoden | The Tower

[personal profile] eightfoldfiend 2021-07-21 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
IMPRISONED: CELL

[Yuber paces his cell like a wild animal, shoulders hunched and mismatched eyes glaring into the middle distance.

Finally, he stops at the bars and yells in an almost impossibly deep voice]


WHO HAS SUMMONED ME?

[He continues pacing, showing no sign that he's ready to stop. Any cell mates might see him clench a fist... Maybe he can be talked into settling down but he's just as likely to attack anyone who suggests it. At least he doesn't keep yelling.]


RECREATION

[Yuber stretches and prowls around the courtyard, watching the other prisoners. Sports equipment, weights... Nothing interesting. Such human needs are all very boring.

So he wanders up to a rickety bench and stares at whoever is sitting there.]


Move.
niima: (pic#15045559)

rey | star wars | the chariot

[personal profile] niima 2021-07-21 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
imprisonment
Oy!

[ Rey didn't know what she expected, after everything up to this point, but demanding her assailants unhand her doesn't go according to plan. Undeterred, her jailers drag her to her awaiting cell.

Along the way, her fight extinguishes. Between returning to the abyss of nothing from which she was wrenched, and a castle that distantly reminds her of what once stood as Maz's home (her heart clenches at the memory; a lifetime ago, it feels like now), she'll take her odds with the latter.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), this isn't her first stint as a prisoner. (At least she's not shackled upright this time, that's an improvement.) The living arrangements might be lackluster, but they aren't anywhere as terrible as she was expecting.

What's unexpectedly awful is the nothingness that's crept its way into her, ringing in the back of her head. She had never really known the Force was there, inside her always, threaded through her very core…. until it was banished in those moments before she was taken here, those tendrils of power ripped away. A hollowness left in its wake, an inexplicable ache in her chest. For someone who had only just realized her power, the loss feels no less terrible — although she reprimands herself that that's absurd, and not to linger on it. If she's going to get out of here, she can't afford the distraction.

Resentfully, the girl keeps her head down. At night, she barely sleeps — unaccustomed to bedmates, and on guard of possible attacks, without so much as her quarterstaff for protection — and at meals, forces her food down methodically, barely chewing before she swallows. There's a certain air about her that is uneasy, bordering unwelcoming — all survival instinct. ]


courtyard
[ This isn’t her first rodeo. Jakku had been a lifelong lesson in surviving harsh conditions.

The scavenger might be slight, but she’s perfectly capable of fending for herself, often counting on being underestimated. With the exception of grilling the guards, her silence is a deliberate one, rage at the injustice a slow simmer.

In the courtyard, she's less reserved, tilting her head up to the sunlight and relishing it after being deprived. Stretching her legs, but not missing the chance to study her surroundings. Cataloging her environment, looking for chinks in the armor. A possible escape route.

Flexing her neck, her eyes cut to the person to her immediate right, lips pursing before she speaks. ]


How long have you been here?

( feel free to wild card her! rey is taken from near to the end of tfa, before she reaches luke. )
belmonts: (083)

Trevor Belmont | Castlevania | Scenario 2 - The Hermit

[personal profile] belmonts 2021-07-23 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
I. In the dog house.
Floating around naked was actually rather calming for the Belmont. After what he'd just been through and all. Closing his eyes as the annoying light above stung them to look at through the darkness, or was that just a side effect of a heavy night's worth of drinking. Just let him rest. He deserves it, doesn't he? ... In fact, no, no this is kind of terrifying actually. Is he dead? Did he die? Shit, don't panic Trevor, don't panic.

Just as he could feel himself running out of breath, puffing his cheeks up, and making a sound of desperation, he found himself being grabbed and drawn forward. Oh thank God, it's just a dream, just a strange dream that he doesn't want to unpack the psychological baggage of.

The next few moments were a blur. Some magic-user rambling on about something or other, seemingly unimpressed with the Belmont's arrival. Nothing new there then. Trevor zoned back in, just in time to have a bundle of, what he supposes could be classed as clothes tossed at him, and wait, why the fuck is he being arrested!?

"Hold on, I think there's been some kind of terrible misunderstanding here. I've never been here before, clearly, you have the wrong man."

As he was escorted to his new cell, looking rather unimpressed by the fact he'd just had some kind of magic placed on him, Trevor tried to make eye contact with any onlookers that passed by on the off chance he might find someone who would be able to clear things up and hopefully set him free?

II. Meal time!

"Are you going to eat that?"

Came the surprisingly polite voice of a rather scruffy-looking man. Time in a cell hadn't been kind to the Belmont. His already shaggy hair was becoming more and more unruly by the day, the 5 o'clock shadow that covered his jaw was fast turning into an established beard. It might have been confusing and it might have felt wrong being imprisoned, but it was free bed and board, something Trevor hadn't experienced in a long time, besides, the food wasn't half bad.

"Might as well make the most of it. Seeing as we're locked up here for God knows how long. Even the salad isn't half bad. When was the last time I ate an actual vegetable?" Muttering more to himself now as he polished off his plate, eyeing up yours.

III. Visiting Hours.

Trevor didn't even know why he got his hopes up. There was no one coming for him. He didn't know anyone. The only two people he knew were far from this place and even then, why would they bother coming to rescue him? Not that he'd allow himself to be rescued in the first place, his pride wouldn't have it. No, all he needed was a good weapon and a moment to take a chance.

Still, he sat and waited. Watching as other, more favored newcomers come and go, as other captives are gifted food and various sundries. It's not that he's envious of them, it's just a painful reminder of how alone he is. Still, even here. Folding his arms behind his head and taking to lay down on the floor, closing his eyes, trying to shut out the slight noise and commotion of the people around him. "I miss being alone." He uttered with a deep sigh. Whether it was true or not? Well...

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