TEST DRIVE MEME | #01

[triumvirmod]

Test-Drive-Meme #01

Welcome to our first ever TDM! This is open to all players looking to join our game or simply have some fun. Play on this TDM does not equate to intent or obligation to apply to join. Players on this TDM should follow all game rules and Characters should meet all game suitability standards per our FAQ. TDM threads are considered game canon for characters who join! The Moon Pact is in power for the full duration of this TDM, putting Sun Pact characters as in service. Moon Pact bindings are presently glittering silver and Sun Pact bindings are unpolished brass. Pact and Class can both be freely player assigned and swapped at will for the purpose of the TDM.

Overseer, Awaken and Conquer

CW: Descriptions of dubiously consensual touch, choking, hallucinations, falling.

The Hands that Grasp

Consciousness wanes. From calm oblivion reaches a pair of elegant hands. Fingertips caress, trailing physical form, mapping curves and divots. Some dark or desperate compulsion leans into the comfort of this touch. The hands dig in. Clasping tight at the neck and pull downward. Down and down, through unclear space, through unclear time. Your character awakens with a start. Where they last felt those hands grasping into them, a collar now rests. Prying does not budge the solid metal, which is either of silver or of brass. Before their eyes is a pane of stained glass. Inscribed in a language all can read are the words Overseer, Awaken and Conquer.

The Glass Coffins

Overseers awaken, contained within a coffin of ornate, metal framework and glass. For some, a light push will cause the lid to swing open. For others, the enclosure may stick or prove too heavy to budge. Breaking free is an option, though mysteriously, the glass fully repairs itself within minutes of sustaining damage. Other Overseers may be present throughout the hallways, willing and able to aid in opening stubborn coffins. That is, should their unlucky inhabitants be able to get their attention through the sound dampening barrier. Overseers continually awaken, either individually or in batches, throughout the month. This will last until the day of the upcoming solstice.

The Gilded Cradle

Innumerable rows of glass coffins line the interior of a grand cathedral tower. Somehow, the name of this stained glass spire is imprinted in the mind of all Overseers. This is known as the Gilded Cradle within Absentia. Where or what is Absentia? How did they arrive here? Why are they here? The answers to such questions remain unknown. These names are as far as the foreign memory serves Overseers. The foggy corridors spiral downward, a staircase connecting floor after floor of largely unopened coffins. Many have glass too hazy to see within. The hallways are heavy with the scent of lavender tinged magic and lightning storm ozone, made visible as a thick haze in the air. Through this fog, Overseers may notice one another or they may see phantoms running by. People familiar to them. Chasing after these figments is a foolish endeavor, they will pick up speed into the thick of the fog. There, they will disappear. This can leave unsuspecting Overseers teetering on the topmost edge of a stairwell or allow their momentum to throw them over the central railing. A fall to the Cradle's ground floor isn't enough to kill an Overseer turns out, but it will injure. Beginning your journey battered is merely an added misfortune.

The Castle Constructs

When Overseers leave the Gilded Cradle, they find they're trapped within an abandoned castle. While exploring they find no other living creatures other than fellow Overseers. Throughout the halls and rooms of the castle rest Constructs. These figures are shells of either iron or brass, with a variety of gargoyle-like appearances. They stand with their wings tucked around their bodies. Littered throughout the location, their placements can often clue in to their former duties as the Castle attendants. These Constructs remain completely inert until two Overseers of the same Pact pass by. Iron Constructs react to pairs of Moon Pact members, while Brass Constructs come alive near pairs of Sun Pact members. When awakened, they unfurl and stand to a height ranging from around three-to-six foot tall. The Constructs promptly begin to carry out butler-like duties, as if they were long ago set to a schedule of operation. When presented with a task they can no longer seem to accomplish, they merely pantomime the action before moving onward. (These NPCs can be player controlled and are non-hostile unless attacked first.)

Locked In

CW: Survival themes, food insecurity, exchanging sex for goods and services.

The Kitchen

The kitchen of Absentia is vast, meant to accommodate for a castle population in the hundreds. Long abandoned, any food reserves have turned to dust or rot. All that remains are a series of strange machines, humming with dull magic. Only operable by the castles resident Constructs, hungry Overseers would be advantaged to activate the inactive Constructs scattered nearby. Once occupying the kitchen, Constructs are more likely to provide a meager serving of food to Overseers who have used magic recently or who hold Influence. (Characters playing this TDM with no canon powers may presume they hold (1) Influence for this and subsequent prompts.)

The Hall of Overseers

To the west of the Gilded Cradle there lies a long, rectangular housing structure, framing a vast courtyard. Rain from the storm overhead patters down constantly. Rooms for Overseers line the open air hallways overlooking the nature within the central outdoor space. At this time, those of the Moon Pact enjoy the lower floors of the indoor sections, with luxurious accommodations. These include private rooms with a fireplace, claw foot baths with clean running water, a variety of furniture, and a plush bed. The upper level indoor rooms are for the Overseers presently in service, the Sun Pact. These rooms are all shared and scarcely furnished. Hammocks and bunk beds are provided to house three or four Overseers per cramped room. These upper location hallways have shared bathroom spaces and no private amenities provided. Overseer names are engraved upon the door frame of their assigned rooms. There is no access given to rooms without this engraving. Overseers need to be invited in to rooms they do not own or share. (Rooms are fully self assigned by Players and can change freely between threads. Pact is likewise self assigned, but should match the room type described above. Moon Pact characters are free to invite Sun Pact characters into their rooms, and visa-versa.)

The Hands that Feed

As Overseers settle in, they find resources are thin and accessible castle space highly limited. There is no exit from the castle at this time. Trying to fly out over the top of Hall of Overseers courtyard results in perpetually being turned around by the Storm until exhausted. Overseers who try to smash windows or break through the architecture find their magic or strength immediately drained. Teleportation leads back to where one attempted to leave from. The trap feels inescapable. This inevitably creates an air of frustration and futility within the awakened Overseer ranks. All there is to do is to make do.

➤Attentive characters will discover quickly that Constructs bring extra rations as room service to those in Power. This at first appears exclusive to the Moon Pact within the Hall of Overseers. The Constructs do this when Overseers have sex in the luxury of the lower floor rooms. However, the Constructs range of understanding is a bit impaired, so fucking in the courtyard also works to call food and drink, regardless of Pact alignment.

➤For those seeking a more direct approach to acquiring extra rations, there's always robbery. The Constructs are not highly fortified. Their routes from the kitchen to the Hall of Overseers are easy enough to intercept. They do resist Overseers who attempt to steal from them, defending the food if attacked. Overseers who damage Constructs find they simply curl back into their wings, where they become both immobile and invulnerable from further damage. They will repair themselves in time and do not... appear... to hold a grudge. The Overseers whose meals were hijacked might, though.

The Courtyard

The courtyard at the center of the Hall of Overseers is a public space with five distinct sections. At the center, there is an ornate fountain that serves as the most reliable, public spot for clean drinking water. The fountain depicts the three Classes, though all of them are partially destroyed. The Ruler has their hands broken off, the Dragon is missing its head, and the pegasus shaped Herald has a hole in its chest. Grimly, the water flows from each of these missing pieces into the pool below. This space is open and visible to all, especially from the higher rooms of the Hall. This central location serves well as a social hub and meet up point for Overseers to congregate, though it is perpetually raining here.

➤Heralds and Dragons experience their first urge to transform within the Courtyard. They are able to resist it, if their willpower is sufficiently high, but the compulsion is strong. Dragons feel a need to shed their skin, to fly and be free. There is not much room for multiple, large dragons to do either of these things. Mind your wings! Heralds begin to feel territorial, wishing to reinvigorate the long dead space. Heralds are able to terraform within the confines of garden planters as they see fit, but they may find them destroyed by Dragons or usurped by other Heralds. Miniature territory disputes may serve as practice for times ahead. Rulers can hear mysterious whispers throughout the Courtyard, but especially nearby the fountain. If they acknowledge these whispers aloud, they will get a response. Those Rulers who listen closely can hear the mocking words "you're not leaving this time."

The other four quadrants surrounding the central fountain are overgrown and wild, contrasting the initially desolate central area. These spaces are each themed to a different season; spring, summer, fall, and winter. Once Overseers enter one of the gated in spaces, the area within appears larger than the outside barrier suggests. The temperature varies wildly between each, though the Storm over head remains consistent. Each contains a singular hideaway which the Constructs will bring food to. These shield Overseers from outside view, but may turn out to be in hot demand. Mind yourselves if trying to sneak into one of these spots for privacy, they may already be taken! (Each hideaway may be customized at player discretion to suit their threads. A single piece of furniture for leisure may be present, like a lounge or hammock. Some ideas for natural spaces would be hidden behind a waterfall, beneath a canopy of trees, a frosty cave, or an alcove hidden by fallen leaves.)

Grief Hath Mates

Class Scenarios

Note: The following prompts are available for all Players, though abilities should always match up with a character's present Class! Class for characters on the TDM can change between threads, but should not change mid-thread. This fully locks down upon acceptance to the game. Characters are presently "unstable" in their Pact and Class assignments, so all threads can remain canon, even if they contradict Pact or Class assigned later on. Any changes made to shared setting environments below are temporary, so feel free to play with destructive and creation powers as specified.

RULERS

➤Rulers who attempt to speak to the Constructs will find they are reacted to in a way the Dragons and Heralds are not. Constructs do not speak back, but they are more attentive towards Rulers regardless of their Influence level. If asked where something is, Constructs will dutifully guide the Ruler to the location in question if it exists. Sometimes, Constructs will open up previously locked doors. None of these lead outside, but they offer some new clues to how the castle once operated in the past. Rulers can open up additional rooms to explore such as a drawing room, a music room, a wine cellar, and a smoking room. These rooms all have basic supplies for their given activity, including aged wine and cigars in the latter two respectively. Rulers with clever tongues or manipulative sensibilities can convince the Constructs to leave them “in charge” of a room. This grants the Ruler a key to the door they can leverage as they please. (Players can play their Ruler as if they hold exclusive control of a room, but this is not imposed TDM-wide. Multiple Rulers can each claim the same type room, no player actually holds full IC/OOC control.)

DRAGONS

➤Dragons are going to be the first to snap under such cramped conditions. Their natural urges are to spread out and fly, not be stuck within a castle. The more volatile Dragons will find their natural instinct is to go Berserk. Berserk mode can be engaged in either their humanoid or Dragon form, though Dragons can only transform at this time within the confines of the Courtyard. If Dragons are causing trouble in the Courtyard, luring or forcing them out of the Courtyard at large forces a Dragon to return to their humanoid form. Getting in fights may not be productive, but it might provide some enrichment to Overseers wishing to challenge each other or keep the peace. (Reminder: Dragons, regardless of form, are especially durable and may prove difficult to subdue! Rulers are best suited to this task, given they have a natural advantage over Dragons. Heralds can make their own attempts, it is simply more risky for them given how fragile they are.) Dragons of more even temperaments can make themselves productive by using relevant elemental magic around the castle. The castle interior is lit only by the dull glow of the sun or moon, which are often dulled by the cloud cover overhead. Providing temperature control or lighting could be a great ease to their own mental state, as well as benefit their fellow Overseers.

HERALDS

➤While cooked rice, dried meat, and pickled vegetables are largely what is being provided, there is a distinct lack of fruit or alcohol coming out of the kitchen. Heralds may find themselves especially desperate for these. Within the courtyard only, they can flex their newly found Class abilities to rapidly influence nature. Heralds may find themselves having vivid daydreams about their favorite fresh fruits from home. These fantasies manifest, growing the imagined fruits from nearby vines, bushes, and trees. This can happen deliberately or entirely by accident. However, due to the imperfect nature of both memory and imagination, these fruits are never fully accurate recreations. The taste and quality of the fruit end up heavily influenced by a Herald’s own subjective experience and are prone to exaggeration. Any fruit from any world is allowed, these simply cannot cause any magical effects. Devious Heralds which imagine poisonous fruits can injure, but not kill fellow Overseers. Such produce can be used to make alcohol by those with the knowledge and wherewithal to do so. Any manner of food is in demand and Heralds have this to provide. Replenishing energy though sex is always an option to help produce more or better resources of this kind.

OOC Info

What happens next?

On the 21st of June, the Pacts will turn over. For the IC duration of the TDM, the Moon Pact are in power. Those assigned to the Sun Pact will start the game off proper as the faction in power. Characters who are accepted into the game will be freed from the confines of the castle. The game will greet new players with a Mingle Event and Network Introduction Post, once all applications are processed. The storm will pull back at the start of July, allowing even further world exploration and Territory claims. Our first plot event will focus on discovering the threat that the Lost Souls of this world can present.

Can I reserve my character before applying?

If you want to claim a character spot in advance of applications opening, our Reserves Page opens on the 10th of June, through to the 15th. This is not required for application, but highly recommended even for original or obscure characters. Reserving provides an instant-pass through 1st month game Activity Check! It also provides Moderation with an idea of incoming player numbers!

How do I apply to join the game?

Head over to our Application Page. These open up on June 15th and close on the 20th. The game officially opens on the 21st of June, barring any unexpected delays.

Is there an OOC space I can discuss potential plans?

Take a look at our Enable-me-Please for OOC discussions and plotting!

(CODE)

Comments

Mod directed inquiries!

[triumvirmod]

For moderation directed inquires specifically regarding this TDM. Questions on other topics should be directed at the EMP Mod comment or the game FAQ.

[whisperedone]

Hello, mods, I apologize in advance as I bring a question of accessibility to your yard going forward. Garner i blind, for the words in the coffin, would he just 'know' them like everyone knows the Cradle or could they be written in braille in a place his hand could reach?

Top Level Directory

[triumvirmod]

Comment here with your Character Name | Canon as the subject. Post a link to your toplevel within your comment. Do not post your actual top level here!

Please do not "place claim" on our TDM with empty or work-in-progress top levels. Placeholder comments anywhere are not allowed and will be deleted.

Garner Cinderbrooke | OC

[whisperedone]

Top Level!

Garner Cinderbrooke | OC (D&D Exandria flavored) | Ruler, Sun Pact

[whisperedone]

Castle Constructs
The construct stationed in this hallway likely wouldn't be overly fond of being touched so thoroughly as is currently being done to it, if it had any emotions or sentience. As it is, Garner stands in front of the metal-feeling thing with a puzzled expression on his face. As his hands skate over the nooks and odd crannies of the gargoyle of indeterminate material, his unseeing eyes stare off at nothing while he concentrates on his hands.

"What...are you?" He asks the thing beneath his fingers, though it wouldn't be hard to think the softly asked question was directed elsewhere with how hi empty grey eyes possibly meet someone approaching.

Courtyard
'Overseer, Awaken and Conquer..' The words tumble over in his mind, trying to make sense of them, this place, and the cold barren mountain he'd been on before waking in his glass coffin. There's movement and activity and people stumbling about no differently than him, but by the fountain, there's some peace in the sound of the running water. He has his head angled slightly so his ear is facing the burble of the fountain and his sightless eyes stare out at nothing. When the whispers start, he thinks nothing of them at first. He is no stranger to the whispers in his mind. It's the content that has his eye narrowing and his focus turning inward. Where the Whispered One's influence often had him hearing temptations and knowledge just out of understanding, these ones felt...directed. Clearer than usual. And never once had the mutterings of his previous God been so direct as to tell him he couldn't escape. Evil gods rarely had to be so direct. The shifting of fabric or weight nearby has Garner 'looking' up at whoever was nearest to him. "Do you hear them? Whispers in the water?"

Or is his sanity slipping further away than he'd like?

Class Scenario-Music Room
He'd asked for a room with art he could touch when he'd found one of the constructs that could now move. A place he could 'rest and find some quiet.' What he got was indeed a room of quiet, but not if he touched the art. Instruments ranging from a harp to a piano and flutes held in cradles met his exploring fingers and he traced them all. How he wished Ivx were here, she could likely do something with this. Or Raleigh...

Garner pushes the thought of his missing friends aside as he sits on a cold piano bench. His fingers find the lid over the keys and carefully push it back to expose the keys below. Reverent fingers press one key and then another as he turns his head slightly towards the sound. "You need tuning, my friend."

Wildcard
Have an idea? Go for it!
((For those who know Crit Role/Exandria, Garner comes from 814PD. He is blind in both eyes, the left with no visible injury except those with medical training and the other with a clear cut across the right. He can hear and smell and sort of 'sense' around him for movement, but he is still effectively blind. You can hmu through PM or at Plurk))

Courtyard

[andromedaunchained]

Perseus had asked for a place where he could see the open sky, and the automaton had delivered in full. Granted, it had taken him several minutes to do more than gawk at the clouds, the rain, the plants. Life. He's never seen so much life in one place. Nothing real anyway. He'd had to touch one of the plants, rip the leaves apart to verify. The older man is no engineer, but if these are biomechanical, they're beyond anything the Olympians have been able to replicate, even for the likes of Artemis and her famed 'garden.'

The whispers are what break him from his reverie. They're indistinct, but have him looking up and around, searching for the source. The only other person out in the courtyard appears to be another man, sitting out in the rain on the edge of a fountain--a fountain like he's only seen in the thoroughfares of the upper levels.

It doesn't look like the other man is speaking, but Perseus does approach, lifting a hand in greeting before he sees the eyes. The genial smile he'd been wearing shifts to surprise. "Good to know you're not ventriloquist, friend. I thought you might be trying to get my attention by very talented means." Perseus cocks his own head and the whispers resolve into words.

"You're not leaving this time."

"There. 'Not leaving... this time?' Hmm... I've not left the first time. Mind if I join you? It's been years since I could sit in the rain." And not worry it wasn't laced with poisons or acid.

Ilphyl | OC (D&D Forgotten Realms) | Herald, Moon Pact

[spacetogrow]

Caging a Druid
Having something metal around their neck is what occupies Ilphyl first, and their fingers dig in to try to get the metal collar off. Feeling the first hint of pain as their fingernails scratch at their throat and they don’t find a clasp or hinge forces them to deliberately start slowing their breathing and calming the fuck down.

That means they notice the coffin. Which is another problem. Ilphyl moves slowly, letting their investigations to find where to push keep pace with their breathing. Sometimes slow is fast, and it’s more important to not panic than to break out immediately.

It does mean as soon as Ilphyl is free, they vault over the coffin’s sides and crouch by the floor, looking around like someone will show up to shove them back inside. Just… maybe give them a moment. They are totally calm. They haven’t even wild shaped yet.

Wanton Property Destruction
Once Ilphyl is feeling less like immediate peril is on its way, they come to the conclusion that other people are also stuck in the coffins. Also they would really like to break some shit by whoever set up this ‘Gilded Cradle’; even if the name suggests their intentions were good, Ilphyl doesn’t care about their intentions at the moment.

So if you aren’t immediately opening your coffin, you might feel a tap on the lid. A slate-colored elf in a silver collar and a few mushrooms stuck in their hair is waving at you. Ilphyl motions for you to get back; they are going to try to open the lid first, but punching the glass might be a second tactic.

Kitchen
Freedom acquired, the next step is to acquire food and water. Since this is a castle, Ilphyl tries the kitchen first and is disappointed that apparently the place has been abandoned long enough that even food stores are no longer edible. “Tomorrow I got to make better spell choices.” It wouldn’t be nearly enough for everyone, though.

“Do you think the constructs here know where other storerooms exist?” It was an idea. Their other idea was to hope the castle gardens had actual edible plants, rather than just the decorative kind. There is some overlap, but not nearly enough.

Courtyard

Clerics and druids are noted among spell casters for being particularly strong of will. Ilphyl is normally not an exception. But at the moment the urge of transformation is working with Ilphyl’s decision that the gardens are needed because supplies are limited. So almost immediately as they step outside, their body starts transforming into a whole new shape (rather than Ilphyl’s normal wild shape forms) — a creature that looks like it was carved out of wood, with a veiled mushroom cap instead of hair, and fingers and toes that trail mycelia fibers, a vision of a dryad that would be born to the Underdark instead of the surface. They kick off their shoes, and make a beeline for the planters. Their thoughts are of food, and so several of the planters are starting to sprout vegetables… except for one that is sprouting some very exotic looking fungi that do not normally grow under the sky.

Anyone, but especially another Herald will get a sharp look up and a “Mine!” in a voice that sounds more reedy than Ilphyl’s normal one.

Experimenting
Ilphyl has figured out that the Constructs will feed them after they perform spells (they may or may not know about the sex bit), which is good because their magic is going to be useful. After the events of the first day, they have a better handle on the urge to transform in the courtyard, and are not going to start fights over who gets to use the planters.

They’ve found a bush and are focusing on berries. Berries are a nice staple, and easy to push magic into to be extra sustaining. But they’ve gotten sidetracked by a different problem. “These are strawberries. Last time, I got blueberries. But this is a rosebush, I should be getting rose hips.”

The rose obediently starts producing a rose hip.

Ilphyl gives a mild glare at it, then sighs. They don’t know if it’s the crappy food, the new powers, or just the whole being kidnapped situation, but they are far more tired than they should be burning through magic, so their thoughts are drifting more than normal.

[OOC Note: Ilphyl is a little wary of ‘sex with strangers’, but won’t be offended if asked, so feel free. They’ll generally run on vibes and having a conversation that gives them a chance to feel out a person is more likely to get a yes/continued interest.]

Wanton Property Destruction

[andromedaunchained]

The person within the coffin is an older man, somewhat on the smaller side and wearing a long-sleeved shirt, black cargo pants, a leather harness that's clearly missing some sort of weapon that ought to be strapped into a connected holster, and a heavy jacket.

While not one of the strangest people to wake up to, that's certainly a stranger tap-tapping directly on the glass above Perseus' face. He jolts, blinking rapidly as he looks around. This is about as on the back foot as he's ever felt, and that's not a pleasant sensation. He remembers the hands, the touch-

There's a collar around his neck, a chain. 'Not my idea of kinky,' is the first thought that jumps to mind before the more sensible 'Where even am I...?'

Where presents itself immediately as 'the Gilded Cradle,' but how he knows that and why is set aside almost immediately because the person who'd been tapping is now pulling at the lid of the glass case he seems to be in. Perseus pulls himself together enough to try to help, placing his hands on the lid and shoving. His brows furrow and his arms strain as the lid stays firmly fixed.

"It's not moving," he calls to the stranger. His voice booms back at him, echoing in a way that tells him this thing is very well sealed. "Is there a lock?" Perseus does his best to look up and around, but even with the casing being glass, he doesn't have enough room to twist properly or get a good angle to look at the outside.

jolyne cujoh — jjba

[misthread]

— the hands that feed (the hustle)

( there was a time when jolyne was so lost and unsure of what to do given her new situation and life circumstance. it was easy to wake up in this strange world and still be dazed and confused by it all but if there was one thing green dolphin street prison taught her was endurance. the strength she needed to overcome adversity and difficult times came through being strong and quick-witted— so before she even left her glass coffin, she summoned her stand and had it create threads that looped and curled out throughout the castle to pick up any sound or conversation being had by the other fellow captives and the brass constructs that seemed to react to her threads. nothing great was picked up by her other than chatter of food, and she called the threads back, nearly jumping out of the coffin.

the last thing she remembered was swimming in the ocean, placing emporio onto a dolphin and praying to whatever entity that existed out there to protect him. he was the only one who could stop father pucci now, and while she wasn't sure what this place had to do with her own world, it was possible the people she knew back home were here. after rising up and out, and gathering details of everything she could something became clear and obvious; much like in prison, she'd have to scrape by for food.

it wasn't difficult for her to figure out the trick to getting a meager amount of food once she made her way into the kitchen. using stone free she rattled the inactive constructs and got a few bread rolls here and there, crackers, very little things. yet despite not getting much, it was clear she had been one of the first people to explore and she had the upper hand here.

so she sat on top of one of the constructs, legs swinging a bit as she waited for someone to walk in. with a devious little expression on her face, she held a roll of bread and looked down at the person before her. )

Hey you hungry?

( she held the bread before them, before lifting it back up and into her mouth, taking a bite. )

If you haven't noticed, this 'castle' doesn't have very much to offer. So if you want to eat, you'll have to do something for me.

( let the hunger games begin. )

— the courtyard (nsfw)

( after getting her fill of food and thrills over finally having the upper hand in a new situation, she decided to continue exploring, leaving the secrets of the inactive constructs to someone else. by the time she reached the courtyard, it had become clear she wasn't quite anywhere near florida and she couldn't tap her heels and be sent back home. yet something strange began to happen to her— much like when that stand arrow pierced her and her stand began to manifest. only this time she felt a strong drive to rip her skin off and shake her humanity to the side.

before long she'd turned into a dragon, her buns forming into round horns onto her head, butterfly tattoo still visible on her left forearm— a butterfly with a dagger for its body. the joestar birthmark, the star was visible against her scales on her shoulder. the urge to fight, to conquer, and to fuck rippled through her body as her arousal and she was prowling through the open spaces of the courtyard with as much room as she could.

when she spotted her target, eyes locked on them and she rammed her head into them, jaw unlocking and fangs bearing as she whipped her tail. )

You know, you should really apologize when bumping into someone, especially when that someone is aching for a beat down.

( really she bumped into them but this was no time for semantics. )

So what do you say, a nice showdown between us?

— wildcard

wildcard + character info

( ooc | if none of these prompts work for you or you'd like to do something different, feel free to hit me with a wildcard or contact me via dm for a closed starter. open to f/f, f/m for jolyne. kinklist here, permissions I'm pretty much open to anything and there isn't anything too crazy jolyne can do with her powers. mortal wounds such as shooting a hole through her can be temporarily fixed through her creating a mobius strip with her threads. she can create threads using her body and stand, using them to pass along speech or pick up on it, and while she can make them go quite far, at a certain point they start to undo her own body. she can also control her stand [a manifestation of her soul] to pickup things/people and can certainly be used in smut threads. technically only other stand users can see stands but given the nature of the game and everyone having powers, I think it would make sense for stone free to be visible to everyone. )

the hands that feed

[evanescent]

Is that really the way we should be acting? [Aerith frowns up at the other woman with her hands planted on her hips, looking and sounding all the world like her mom, who was now worlds away.]

Wouldn't it be better to work together until we figure out what's going on?

[Instead of taking the bait, she ignores the pangs of hunger and decides to ask questions of her own. She'd had a feeling at least someone would try to use the state of confusion and alarm for their own benefit; she just hadn't expected it to be right away. It's unfortunate, but she's hoping she can appeal to a shared sense of humanity. Or something along those lines.]

Espresso Cookie | Cookie Run: Kingdom | Herald, Moon Pact

[roasty]

1) arrival
[he feels like he's sinking into an unknown abyss, lower and lower, but he doesn't immediately crumble. when his eyes open, Espresso Cookie knows there's something different about him, but he doesn't know what. he's groggy as he attempts to look around. this isn't his bed. it's more of a confined space, and that must explain why he feels so cramped.

once he wakes up more, he gasps and reaches long lanky arms to press against the glass cover above him. wait a moment. arms outstretched, he gets a good look at them. fingers on his hands? he's never hand those before. augh, he can worry about that later. he shoves at the lid and it swings open for him. Espresso sits up, startled, gritting his... teeth? only then does he get a good look at his body]

Human...

[he mumbles to himself before looking around. he's surrounded by coffins, which at least answers the question of what he was confined in. morbid, but alright. he seems to be alive, in any case, and he rubs at his neck, finding something there, too. a collar that goes all the way around. too many questions come to mind. as he moves to pull himself out of the coffin, he trips over the side and falls flat on his face. he'll have to get used to his new sense of gravity and equilibrium]

2) those in power
We can't leave the castle.

[this is said out loud, mostly to himself, or whoever else is within earshot. don't ask Espresso how he knows this. or, well, you can, but there was a bit of trial and error involved. he most certainly cannot teleport or fly, but he did try to blow up the front door with his Coffee Magic. that didn't turn out so well, so he's back to looking around. it's fine, there are plenty of places to explore. those that take note of the lanky man will see that his collar is silver.

he makes his way towards the Hall of Overseers, either alone, or with a companion. Espresso is still looking for clues, trying to shake off the irritated feeling he has. hunger, perhaps? just the frustration of not being able to leave? at least he finds a room with a plush chair to sink into, in front of a fireplace. whose room is this? it's his, for now. he pushes up his large round glasses and rubs at his eyes]

3) no escape
[at least the Courtyard is open, even if it is raining outside. you may find Espresso staring at the Herald statue and wondering why there is a hole in it. he's feeling even more antsy out here than he was inside the castle proper.

he could sure go for some fruit. fruit? yes, maybe, a juicy mango...

such an odd craving. he's not really a fruit-guy. however, when he looks over at a nearby tree, he is flabbergasted to witness a mango growing there, quickly becoming ripe within seconds. it wasn't there before, was it? no longer focused on the statue, Espresso walks over to the tree and observes for a second. mangoes are so messy, but he wants it right now. he reaches up and plucks the fruit from the tree. then he gets to peeling off the skin. there are more mangoes growing there, close to him]

Ah, you want one? Go ahead. They smell fine, at least.

[he wouldn't be a scientist without taking risks, so he's going to have a bite]

4) wildcard
[the open option, for other prompts you'd like to play out! feel free to poke ogerpon or to plot with me on my EMP comment! Espresso Cookie is no longer a Cookie, and will remain as a human for his entire duration of the TDM. he'll be figuring things out from there]

arrival

[whisperedone]

[He'd barely found his way out of his own glass coffin, his hands tracing along the edges and planes to see if any more braille messages await him, when the distinct sound of a bodily smack startles him and has him turning in the direction.

His brows furrow over sightless eyes and he takes a tentative step towards the source of the sound. When he speaks, his voice is soft and accented. For his part, the collar he's only barely taken note of is a dull brass.]Hello? Are you alright?

Daan | Fear & Hunger Termina | Herald, Moon Pact

[livelamentlove]

[[Daan's at-a-glance and content warnings are over here. I'll mark anything touchy with a CW if it comes up in thread. He's got a lot of serious topics in his past, but he's not prone to talk about any of that without good cause to. I have his EMP post if you want to chat OOCly first! But consider prompts OTA, even for other Classes than the one specified, I just wanted to organize it this way.]]

For Rulers

[In no time at all, Daan is dying for a smoke. His clothes are intact, but his pockets empty. No cigarettes, no alcohol. His mind is suffering. He can deal with an empty stomach if he's just got a smoke to keep him busy.

The new addition of soft, grey cat ears in place of his once human pair is no comfort at all. A great annoyance, as evidenced by the irritated swing-snap of his equally as cat-like tail. Sat flat on the floor outside a room, arms resting on his knees, he can absolutely smell tobacco inside. His smell has improved, seems like. Unfortunate, but at least the place smells like rain and old wood, not sewer water.

He ponders what the hell got him here. Waking up in a coffin... maybe he just died in Prehevil. It would make the most sense, everything was so, completely fucked-]

Hey, you. Able to open this door, by any chance? [His voice is posh and somewhat British sounding, to those who might be familiar with that. He's asking someone he thinks might not be a damn mythical beastling. Maybe. It's so hard to tell, but they seem to be separated into different types here? He has no clue about Class names, or the Moon or Sun Pact dynamics just yet, but he can tell someone who looks like a dragon apart from a normal(ish) person...]

For Dragons

Bit off more than you could chew, didn't you? [He's asking a Dragon (or other Overseer) that just got out of a fight. Whether that was in the courtyard or in a hallway, Daan will approach. His newly sprouted cat ears angled down with some annoyance, but he's trying to be nice. He hates that people are losing it already. Bad sign for what's ahead. Still, he's not going to leave anybody who just got laid out to bleed out.]

I'm a doctor. You want my help or not? [unless they spit in his face or tell him to fuck off. Then he can leave them! Won't weigh on his conscious none! Saves him so much trouble! ... he's here to help.]

For (fellow) Heralds

What is this-? This cannot be safe to eat... and I've eaten a lot of dubious things in my day.

[He's looking at... some kind of fruit. It's probably some low poly grapes or other unconventionality shaped produce. Whatever it is, a man from alternate WWII England is not familiar with it. And it looks weird. But it smells good? Maybe?

He wants to eat a fresh fruit so badly. It's been so long... Whoever made the thing he's hung up on could always explain it to him, or maybe it's simply a random square orange. Daan should probably just get over it.

His stomach growls against his will, regardless. Daan arrived to the castle hungry, conditions have really not improved for him that much.]

herald.

[khaotychnyy]

( Pav almost wants to eat it first, but just so he can see if it's safe for Daan to eat.

This whole in service thing is such bullshit. He pokes at a mushy strawberry that looks oddly smooth, with fewer seeds than normal, his finger sinking in a little too easily. Pulling a face, Pav takes the strawberry to examine it closer. )

Looks safer than some rations, at least. Not that I'd know much about that lately.

( Being a Lieutenant and all, the food he got to eat was better than most. He is choosing to ignore Prehevil for now.

He takes a bite of the strawberry. )

... It's watery.

ranni the witch | elden ring | moon + ruler (tenatively)

[deathstealer]

c o f f i n s

[ What was once distant nothingness, the absolute cold amongst stars and a dark, silent moon⸻ turns to grasping hands, pulling and exploring, coaxing and demanding. Fingers clasp around a throat that does not give like flesh, yet nonetheless, breath feels as far and as chill as an impossibility. When Ranni wakes, it is in a glass coffin in a beautiful cathedral. The stained glass windows, the stone arches, they speak of a familiarity to memories many centuries old, but Ranni knows not where she is.

Fortunately, the lid of the coffin moves easily enough to her touch. Outside of its cradle, Ranni observes the high tower, the long hallways thick with haze. To her sight, a tall, broad man with a wolf's head appears in the haze, and then turns away ⸻ Ranni does the same, unwilling to venture into what is clearly unknown magic.

Instead, she turns her attentions to the other people in other coffins.

Rows and rows of strange people, in strange dress, some with strange forms. One seems to be struggling to remove the lid of their coffin, and so, Ranni steps forward. She curls porcelain and metal fingers around the lip of the top, and cracks it open, lifting it. The person within is treated to the view of a woman with pale blue skin and an enormous witch hat, one eye glowing lunar-blue, the other side of her face conjoined with a ghostly half, like her spirit couldn't fully fit within the five foot tall puppet she inhabits. The silver collar around her throat looks oddly fitting, a pale hue to match her colouring. ]

Arise, and take stock, fair stranger;
thy dawn has awoken in an unfamiliar realm.

[ With one hand still holding the lid open, she offers another hand. This is easy enough for her; she has four of them. ]

Wilt thee lay abed all day?
Or is thine spirit made of fire and ash,
not the tepid, stagnant water of fear?

c o u r t y a r d

[ It has been some time since Ranni has been able to explore lands unknown to her, and she takes to it with the dutiful eagerness of an academic. She finds herself in the courtyard outside the cathedral. The fountain statue at the heart of it is noted carefully, though Ranni's eye lingers on the dragon, a familiar enough sight for her.

As always, she is drawn most toward the cold and the dark; she gravitates toward the winter section, stepping inside with nary a flinch at the temperature.

There, among the drifting snow, Ranni looks upward toward the stormy sky. The land within is bigger than the exterior suggested; obviously magic, a type that Ranni has studied though does not specialize in. She stays there for some time, contemplating this new realm she has been dragged into, one hand impatiently probing the collar about her throat. Snow gathers on the brim of her hat, the thick fur of her cloak, and yet, should anybody approach, they will notice that Ranni herself seems to put out an even more intense cold than their winter surroundings.

She hears whispers on the wind, and when she turns her attention to them, they only mock her and tell her she won't be getting away. Hmph. Useless.

When another approaches, Ranni doesn't move, still staring out into the distance. One pair of hands is steepled thoughtfully before her, the other pair loosely clasped over her stomach. ]

Were thee also drawn to the cold and the dark?
Or art thou more hopeful than I,
seeking a spark of warmth in a frozen land?

g r i e f

[ Of course, it does not take Ranni long before she starts pushing the boundaries of what is allowed, and attempting to pry into what is hidden from her.

The constructs made of Iron prove to be amenable to her instruction, and at her request, one of them opens a locked doorway within the cathedral. Ranni debates pressing the construct for the key for permanent access ⸻ or to try it on other doors ⸻ but she refrains for the moment. As a creature many years old, Ranni is patient, and decides not to push her luck just yet. For now, she will observe, and study.

The door swings open to reveal what can only be a music room; thick rugs line the stone floor, a fireplace crackles merrily off to the side, and instruments are hung on the wall and stored on shelves. Ranni, having no particular affinity to making music, largely dismisses it.

Still, she turns to the other person that is observing the room with her, as they stand just outside of the doorway. ]

If thee have a mind to be curious,
I'm certain the construct will allow thee inside.
As for myself,
there are other rooms
that may yet prove more useful.

[ There's a certain dark humor in her words that she doesn't explain, though her eyes, both porcelain and spectral, glimmer with amusement, like they are in on some shared joke. ]

Should thee like to attend to me,
I would not mind the company.

ooc / wildcard

[ info + permissions + emp ad. ranni is f/f if monogamous, ota if poly ⸻ and almost certainly will be poly in this game. she is moon pact, I haven't decided if she'll be a ruler or a herald yet, though for this tdm I'm going with ruler. I'm happy to write more specific prompts for people if need be, otherwise all starters are ota! hit me up on the emp ad for anything else :D ]

Courtyard

[spacetogrow]

[Ilphyl's clothing wasn't suited for the weather, and they had... temporarily misplaced... their shoes. it's probably not wise to expend magic to protect themselves from the chill, but they wanted to explore. Being trapped has them feeling itchy and like their skin is slightly too small, and the new Herald instincts are exasperating that.

[So being able to go everywhere they are allowed is easing it, even if it means burning spells to make the cold feel chilly rather than freezing.]

Perhaps, more of the hope. But winter is an important part of the world on its own, not just something to get through until spring arrives.

[The Underdark didn't have seasons, but it means they were ground into Ilphyl's training as a druid, rather than childhood memories of living on stored food until the first greens of spring could be found.]

[They don't know what the nature of the woman is -- obviously her body is a construct, but she's not the same as the ones serving the castle, which feel more like they were crafted for a task, rather than crafted as a person. But that can be a mystery for later. Enjoying the snow is nice for now.]

Yosano Akiko | Bungou Stray Dogs | Sun pact, Herald

[fatestaydead]

A. Glass Coffins

[it could be worse.

Yosano can't say for sure how exactly, but she supposes she could be like, dead-dead as opposed to just... whatever that had been. Everything aches a little, and the heaviness around her neck is concerning. Seeking hands find.. a collar? Not encouraging.

She's never been terribly patient and after listening to try and get an idea of where she could be, Yosano takes to kicking at the lid of her coffin, stuck fast currently. She's not panicking, not yet, but the sooner this lid is off the better, and others appear to be getting out from what she can gather from her own.]

Hey! Help a girl out why don't you?

[She shoves against the coffin lid, which is starting to give a little, but not enough for her to feel good about the progress.]

B. Gilded Cradle

[Either you almost topple off the staircase--in which case Yosano will yoink you back from the ledge with an exasperated, irritated sigh and a stern look.

Or you tumble down the stairs, which will have Yosano sauntering over with a very unimpressed look]

Well, that's one way to do it. [Despite the sarcastic remarks, she crouches down to look the person over] I'm a doctor, let me take a look. Anything broken? [She appears kind of.. hopeful?? About that? Don't worry about it.] Concussion? Here, follow my finger. [She holds a finger up to move it, watching for eye movement for the gesture]

C. The Hands That Feed

[Of course the first thing Yosano is going to do when opening the exits does work is to try and break out. She's not at all above using violence to get things done, so after pushing and pulling and testing the locks doesn't work, Yosano shrugs and walks away.

Minutes later she returns with a chair that she promptly attempts to hurl through one of the windows. It doesn't work, obviously, bouncing off almost harmlessly, but Yosano doesn't have time to analyze all that, as doing so immediately makes her crumple to the floor.

Dazed, she sits there for a moment, feeling shaky all over, like she's massively overdone it with the exercise.]

What the fuck? Ugh, that could've gone worse, but... [She doesn't even feel in pain, just exhausted and unable to get up. Help.]

D. Grief Hath Mates

I think I'd kill for some booze right now.

[Yosano groans as she lays out in the courtyard, feeling grumpy and restless. At least alcohol would numb some of this and give her something to do other than wait around for someone to break a leg or need medical attention. Is it too much to ask for someone to get roughed up??

Ugh.

Or even strawberries would be nice. The Strawberry Park in Yokohama would be taking reservations soon, wouldn't it? About now? Yosano hums lightly to herself, imagining biting into a big juicy strawberry, the juice running down her fingers and chin... She can practically smell it now.

Wait.

She opens one eye and looks up, feeling a drain of energy as she watches a handful of strawberries pop up and grow in rapid succession near-by. Sure, she's seen a few people make this happen by now, but she hadn't thought much of it. Maybe it was some Ability thing. Maybe it was just this place being weird!

She reaches out to pluck a strawberry without having to get up, then lifts her head to call out:] Anyone know how to make strawberry wine? I will give a kidney for a good strawberry wine. [She could regrow it anyhow it's fine.]

E. Wildcard!

[For other things! Characters that would recognize the name of the Japanese author Akiko Yosano are free to recognize it.]

Coffins

[daddy_shark]

[The sounds of some stranger struggling are barely registered as important, at first. It's only after he considers this a chance for someone to owe him that he even begins making his way over. After taking a moment to observe the coffin from the outside, the demon reaches out to begin pulling the lid off.

Between demonic strength and her own efforts, it's probably a bit of overkill, but he's kind of in a destructive mood anyway, soooo...]

Annnnd there, congrats. Out one prison, into another!

[It's said with both nonchalance and a touch of weariness.

... She's definitely not a demon, so he could maybe stand to be a little more polite. This could be a great chance for making a lasting impression as a chivalrous, helpful, trustworthy being! Yet, after everything that happened back home, he's finding it a liiittle impossible to care enough. He helped, she owes him, that's more than enough.]

Medea Solon | Your Throne | Ruler, Moon Pact for TDM

[subversions]

I. Awakening
[ Overseer, Awaken and Conquer.

It's the only piece of the "dream" she can parse out. The rest is a terrible haze, the feeling of hands on her throat. For a moment, she is Psyche again, she is in her body, she feels Eros' hands clutched around her neck. She feels the weight and the bruising. And then Medea Solon wakes up.

She is Medea here, her reflection oh-so-faint on the glass in front of her where she is, once again, trapped and confined. The startlement of it forces her to kick and shove, and the coffin's lid opens readily enough. With strands of hair stuck to her forehead and face, she rises up out of her prison to see...nothing familiar to her. Coffins among coffins, a living woman among the dead. But on prying herself out of where she slept(? Is that the right word for it? Is she alive?) she casts her gaze around and brushes off her clothes. Thoughts racing, she doesn't realize the small sound in the room with her for several moments, her attention focused on her rapid breathing.

The sound comes again. Thump, thump, THUMP. It's so muffled that it takes her a moment to find the source: an unfamiliar face in hazy, fogged glass, but someone alive in another coffin just a few boxes nearby. A moment passes while she stares. She can't tell who they are and some terrified part of her dares to wonder who would be here, if this isn't another haunting. And then she moves, grasping at the sides of the coffin and working to lift it up so the person within can emerge. Her eyes are bright and wary as she looks down into the face of... Well, it doesn't matter. ]

Easy. Take a breath.

[ Her tone is simple but firm, lacking in any sort of kindness. Sorry, newbie, you're not getting the concerned treatment you might be hoping for. ]


II. Food to Spare
[ Well, she's certainly not dead, though Medea can't be convinced all of this isn't some kind of fevered nightmare or poisoned delusion. Still, she's breathing, the air so different from where she'd been in the palace; she feels the stones beneath her feet and the metal of the Constructs when she's touched one of them. And she also feels the clench of hunger before long, which is why the information that there is very little food to speak of is of great concern. Hunger pushes rational people to desperation before long, and she's watched as others have tried to break out with no success. And that will quickly become a very, very considerable problem.

First thing's first: get those other Constructs moving, as they seem to be the only ones capable of operating what's in the kitchen and the only creatures around that know where all of the rations are. The second task is...covered for her, actually. Once she's found a room for herself, a Construct appears to offer a little bit of food it's managed to scrape together. Why it would is beyond her, but this also means something's been taken from someone else, and that sort of withholding adds another layer: if only certain people are being nourished and others are denied, it could lead to targeting, and she refuses to be caught unawares.

Which is why when someone heads to the kitchen looking for food, someone who hasn't been provided with any, she offers an apple that she's brought down with her. ]

Here. In case you aren't able to find more. I'm not certain how much is left but barring us finding a way to operate the kitchen by our own means, there's no telling when we'll be offered anything else.

[ Though she's seen a few pairs being given food, something she's given thought to. Medea knows none of these people; offering a single piece of food is a better compromise than exposing any vulnerability for the time being. It's a compromise, though her thoughts linger on other offerings... ]


III. Courtyard Exploration
[ The fountain is the easiest place to go to get her bearings, and an equally easy place to gather information that's not in the castle. The statues bring her no comfort; it only reminds her that no one has been here in some time, and many and more may have been killed here. There may be no sign of struggle but there seems plenty of evidence of hatred, a piece to a puzzle she can't fully see. And it's there she lingers for a time until...

"You're not leaving this time."

Medea lifts her head at the sound, and then the sound that is the crush of grass behind her. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she asks: ]

Hm? Did you say something?

[ They didn't. She knows they didn't; the voice came from nowhere and yet too close to be from the intruder behind her. Still, better to be cautious and far better to be wary until she has a better idea of the people she's awakened with. ]


IV. Construct Manipulation
[ It's inevitably lucky that the Constructs seem to listen to her. They don't move with urgency the way a true servant would but she can't help but notice there's a little more leniency with her a few others, the same ones offered food before anyone else. And while that's very interesting and will require investigation — which will also require her to meet with and to learn everyone's names and circumstances, a matter she'll need to do regardless — it still allows her to take advantage of them. Just a little. It can't hurt objects, right?

So whether you've seen Medea order around a Construct of her choosing or if you've simply spotted her dipping into a room that absolutely wasn't open before, the result is the same: she's already looking through the wine cellar as if it belongs to her, making attempts to open a bottle or two and to try to smell whether it's poisoned or not. Nosy.

She looks up from her work, one eyebrow lifted, and a slow smile works its way onto her mouth. ]

Care to try some? [ Fully knowing it still could be poisoned!! ] It's a vintage I'm not familiar with, though it does look as if it's been down here a long time.

[ Her shrug is simply, lofty. ]

Might as well not let it go to waste.

[ Which is why, if they're perfectly safe, she's going to (proverbially) pocket a few and lock the door behind her. A bartering chip is a bartering chip regardless of what it is. ]


V. Wildcard
[ Feel free to PM me if you wanna do something specific or if any of these prompts don't work, feel free to write your own! I'm flexible. ]

---

[ OOC: Brackets or prose is fine, I write both frequently and will match your preference. Prompts II and IV are open for a potential sex scenario.

This is my first time playing this character so feel free to PM me if you're canon familiar and anything seems off. A very, very sparse info page is HERE for the curious. Will be getting icons shortly so sorry for the random default. ]

IV

[bloodypath]

How frustrating it was to be barred from so many places in this prison of a rotting castle; how further frustrating it was to see others navigate with ease. He's seen others dip into rooms. This room, though, seemed to have useable goods in it. In a starving, deprived population, even alcohol could serve as potent currency.

Hubert schools his (genuine) scowl into one no different than his usual resting expression before he catches Medea's eye. Pupils in serpentine slits, collar gleaming silver, and his hands behind his back, he eyes the wine disapprovingly.

"Vintage in abandoned keep with nary an occupant to be found? Occupants that might have very well met an untimely end? No, I don't think I will."

His eyes scan the cellar. "Those golems do seem rather keen of you, don't they?"

Jing Yuan | Honkai Star Rail | Dragon - Moon Pact

[liongeneral]

A - Awaken, Overlord - His eyes flutter open and then close. Sleep, as it always does, beckons. But this is not very comfortable. No cushy comforter or warm blankets. And his soft pillows? Where are they??

The old General yawns and makes to stretch only to find his limbs knocking into things. At last alertness strikes him. Box...? His mind starts to spin and he does the only thing that makes any sense and presses his hand to the top and pushes. It takes some strength but he moves the lid, forcing it upward so that he can make some progress in getting up. It's a bit of effort, more than he likes to exert upon waking, but he does free himself.

Not the only one trapped in one of these glass boxes, it seems. Once he sits up and removes himself from the confines he looks about. Some people are still but some are facing the same struggle he was just in.]

I have you.

[He moves to the closest box and helps push the lid to one side, allowing free passage for them as well.]

Here, take my hand. And watch your step.

B - Phantons, The Gilded Cradle - [Jing Yuan moves at a leisurely pace, looking about this strange new place. He tries to recall the last thing he remembers and what he was doing last. Sleeping, for certain...

His head jerks upward in attention at the sight of a still familiar fox tail. The pointed ears. She doesn't glance back and when he makes even the slightest attempt to follow she moves faster, further away.]

Phantom or flesh... I never stood a chance at catching you, old friend.

[It's not just her. They're everywhere. Familiar horns and the sway of long white hair. The rigid steps of a diviner and the eager jaunt of the young. Old friends. Old masters. New wards. New confidants. The hall feels full of memories that remain just out of reach.

And in this unfamiliar hall and that box he awoke in one conclusion shines brighter than than the others.

He sighs and places a hand under his chin, eyes back on the Foxian girl that is far out of reach now.]

Have I passed on in the waking world? Or perhaps I am about to. [He hums, thoughtful.] It's more peaceful than I imagined.

C - Courtyard [For all the luxury, thank you moon pact, things do seem a bit dire in regards to resources. A bit of observing makes things a bit clear about how things are run around here.

And while his quarters are quite lovely and comfortable, curiosity brings him to the courtyard. The rain doesn't have him venturing too far out, not wishing to get wet. He does note that things do look a bit rundown here which is unfortunate.

He holds a hand out, catching some raindrops in his palm.]

I wonder if it's safe to drink... [Surely it must be?] Food seems tricky to come by but if water didn't have to be that would be quite the boon.

[He's not terribly far outside but there's an itch... Hundred of years of strict discipline mean he can keep it under wraps but it is a strange impulse. One he can't quite determine only that he wants to be out there. In the sky. He flexes his fingers, having been talking to himself before but now turns his attention on the person beside him.]

Do you feel strange at all, by chance?

Courtyard

[heavensnight]

[Maria turns her attention to him.]

Feel strange? Well, still feel like I need to wake up from such a strange dream. But I assume you mean physically. [she looks at his hand and hums.] Besides being hungry and thirsty? I guess as normal as one could.

[all things considered anyway.]

Helaena Targaryen | House of the Dragon | Moon Pact, Dragon of course

[honorism]

A. Glass Coffin

[She lays for a long moment in the coffin, blinking slowly as her brain replays the dream over and over. It wasn't at all like her normal dreams, somehow both too vague and too direct to be so.

This was also, obviously, not her bedchambers, but she had no memory of being... kidnapped? Who would even dare? Who could slip in and grab her away without anyone noticing?

Tentatively she knocks on the coffin lid. It feels light as a feather, easily moving with her knock, much to her confusion. Maybe this was all another dream? She pushes and the lid swings open without fanfare. After a brief pause, Helaena sits up as well, peering around.] ...Hello?

B. Grief Hath Mates

[It's long been said that the Targaryens have dragon blood mingling within their veins. Helaena had never had cause to think otherwise, her and her family's bond with dragons undeniable proof.

Until now, perhaps.

She is not as large as her dragon back home and certainly not as large as her young brother's, but she is about the size of a small car. Gleaming white scales, amethyst colored eyes. She beats her wings once, either not noticing or caring is she knocks over someone or something in doing so. She snorts lightly and curls her wings back in, testing as she stretches and walks, sniffing at the air.

It feels like she understands Dreamfyre a little better now, and that soothes something in her, pleased as she settles down. If anyone tries to approach, she stares unblinkingly and draws herself up, waiting.]

C. Courtyard

[When not in her dragon form, Helaena can be found in the spring area, moving slowly on hands and knees, eyes trained on a grasshopper. The second anyone else enters, the grasshopper hops away in alarm however, making Helaena frown and sit back.

She gives whoever it was a sullen look] You're frightening them all away.

[Or she can be found in the central courtyard, setting up an area with jars pilfered from the kitchen and killed with mini-terrariums for some of the crickets and caterpillars she's captured in the spring section. She's lined them up and even written names on the jars, looking quite pleased with herself.]

Did you know that crickets don't have lungs? And their ears are located on their legs. [She speaks up, vaguely toward... anyone else around, but also maybe to herself?]

D. Wildcard

[obligatory wildcard for anything else.]

barges in for this cr again, courtyard

[megatheorem]

[You know, Palamedes doesn't know any-dang-thing about crickets. He's not actually a hundred percent sure what a cricket is, or how many legs it's supposed to have. He was out here - again, and again, there's nowhere else to go - to take more notes at the fountain, giving Helaena a polite amount of space for her... jars?

He does glance around before he responds, like maybe she was talking to someone else, but-]

I didn't know that, no. Does their breathing cycle directly into the bloodstream?

[Does a cricket - he's seeing now they're probably these little bugs she's got, aha - have a "bloodstream," as it were...]

Alucard | Castlevania: Nocturne; Moon pact, Ruler

[cryptsleeper]

Glass Coffins
Hm. Interesting.

[Alucard stands at the foot of the coffin that recently contained him, watching as seemingly invisible shards of glass remove themselves from the floor to repair the lid. The movement is swift and steady, automatic in a way that makes it clear magic is involved but specifics are not going to reveal themselves.

Looking around reveals little. The space could be taken for a mass crypt - the coffin certainly acted as if he was meant to stay within - but that wouldn't be right either. Not when there are the sounds of pounding and breaking glass in the distance.

He follows the sound of something being broken.]

Locked in -- kitchens
[The obvious thing to do once bursting out of a glass coffin and finding oneself stuck in a seemingly abandoned castle with total strangers and strange gargoyles is to check on the food situation.

Okay. Not obvious. But useful, because without food, a number of things become quite academic in terms of needs. So Alucard tries to make sense of the castle's layout as he walks, considering where the kitchens might be placed. Likely on lower floors. Likely out of the way. Likely a long walk, the final point proving less true than anticipated. Alucard considers that a small mercy.

Within the kitchens, there are doors that lead to larders and supply rooms. Alucard begins his examination there, carefully opening one large door. The loud creak makes it clear that no one has oiled the hinges in some time, and the faint scent of rot lingers in the air. That is faint makes him worry the most. Recently spoiled food suggests a space that has only newly been abandoned. This? This indicates a passage of time.

All the same, he crosses the threshold, eyes adjusting to the low light. Shriveled dried meat hangs in one corner. A barrel that held apples once has collapsed in on itself, ancient apple goo now stuck to the floor. He exhales slowly, speaking to himself as if that will fix the threat of panic that wants to enter his voice.]

This is dire. And consistent in the other remaining rooms, I'm sure.

Grief Hath Mates - To (a) Drawing Room
Show me to a place where I can sit down and make sense of this.

[Figuring out the nature of the Constructs demanded observation, trial, and error. Observation had helped most, as some of the others in the castle appeared to figure the situation out with minimal fuss. Careful wording was important too, although the Constructs seemed to genuinely try to help rather than comply maliciously like a demon stuck in a summoning circle.

This request is vague and open to interpretation. It is on purpose, as he genuinely wants to see how it'll be interpreted. So it goes that the dhampir follows after a Construct that whirrs and occasionally makes a noise that gives Alucard pause, all until a small drawing room is opened. Alucard pauses, then nods once to the Construct to thank it.

The walls themselves feature cream colored wallpaper meant to mimic the feathers of peacocks, while heavy curtains cover the windows. A light green and white carpet placed over the stone floor picks up the same pattern of the wallpaper, and placed on the table appears to be a board game of sorts featuring lacquered tiles set on an irregular grid and silver tokens beside. Three armchairs ring the table along with a single long sofa, the fabric of all matching the carpet.

It is a space meant for quiet nights with friends. For now, Alucard sits himself in one of the armchairs and keeps the door open, just in case someone else needs a similar respite.

If someone passes, he makes quiet eye contact and offers a polite nod of acknowledgement, although the dhampir doesn't get up off his feet. Whatever this place really is, there is time required to make sense of it.]

( kitchens )

[snakesona]

[ olrox has kept himself to the shadows. there's no reason to reveal himself early. not when he's still taking stock of this place, of these people. why show your hand when you can collect the cards.

alucard, however, is an unsettling, but not unpleasant surprise. he steps out with his customary smirk. ]

Humans will find a way. They always do.

Hubert von Vestra | FE: Three Houses | Moon/Dragon

[bloodypath]

The Hall of Overseers

Hubert practically shambles back toward the Moon quarters. He moves slowly, slumped, supporting himself heavily with a hand against the wall as he walks.

He chuckles wryly to the next person he crosses paths with. "I do not recommend escape via the windows. Our mysterious captors have left quite the devious gift for such attempts."

Courtyard (1): At the beginning

Fresh water is vital. After observing other Overseers not dropping dead upon imbibing, Hubert makes his way to the fountain with a small clay vessel he'd found somewhere. There was no telling if the fountain would suddenly run dry in this damnable place.

But he stops, standing in the rain, looking up at the stormy sky with both confusion and a shadow of wonder. His serpentine eyes, narrowed into slits, fixates on the fountain.

"This water can't truly be safe. It does something to the mind. This... call, like we're victims to be lured."

Everyone else feels it, don't they? The tug to slither from his skin; to join the rain or the flowing water, like freedom is only a promise away; like he belongs here. Hubert stands there, mindless of the rain soaking his clothing and his hair with his clay jar in one hand, fighting the chilling urge. He lifts a gloved hand to the collar of his shirt, loosening the broach there, as if it were starting to choke him.

Courtyard (2): After settling in

Anyone going to the fountain for a drink is in for a rude surprise.

The surface of the water ripples as something black and white streaks by beneath it. Then, on a second pass, a small snake-like head rears from the water, watching—or glaring at, how did one parse serpentine expressions?—the person at the fountain's edge with pale green eyes.

Click for OOC notes

- His collar is super originally around his neck.
- I'm undecided whether he's keeping his magic or having it revoked, may switch between threads.
- All evidence of his scales are hidden under his clothes, but his eyes have obviously become snake-like.
- Hubert's dragon form is inspired by various serpent-dragons, particularly sea serpents, but he will do just as well on land. He could hypothetically fly, but the poor man is acrophobic. His element is undecided, TDM elements may include poison, fog, or shadow.
- Feel free to PM for to discuss Wildcards or other options!

Courtyard (1)

[livelamentlove]

Daan has his hand cupped and dipped into the fountain water. He pulls the handful to his lips, sniffing it briefly, before tipping it to his mouth-

Then he hears "This water can't truly be safe-" from the man beside him. Daan let's the full amount of water just fall immediately back out of his mouth and into the pool. Very inconsiderate to others, but what can he do now? Cat ears lay flat and annoyed where his human ears once were. He only barely contains a blechk noise to go along with the water splattering promptly back out of his mouth.

"Come on," he groans, wiping his tongue with the back of his hand- why is it kind of rough now?- no, he doesn't want to think about it, "what makes you say that? We need water from somewhere."

Obviously, Daan is still worried enough to hesitate, even with a mouth full of the stuff.

Wen Kexing | Word of Honor | Herald, Moon Pact

[ghostlord]

The Gilded Cradle {Part 1}

{His breath fogs the glass of his...coffin. The Ghost Lord of Ghost Valley opens his eyes slowly, his lips curling dangerously. What sort of trick? He lashes out suddenly, violently, sending the lid of his coffin crashing into the opposite wall. Dressed in crimson red, the color of blood, Wen Kexing steps into the new world, brushing off his sleeves.}

You have a lot of nerve. {Kidnapping someone like him, he means. Smirking without warmth or amusement, he walks along the line of coffins, peering inside of each one.}

It's time to wake up.

The Gilded Cradle {Part 2}

{Sanity is a tentative state for him anyway - thus when he sees a figure that should not be there, Kexing, at first, thinks it must be a hallucination.

"Yan!"

That one word - a name - shakes him to his core and he grabs onto a cold, hard wall to keep himself upright. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, he glowers at the shadows that pass before him.}

I don't know you. {So he won't follow them - even if the sight of them leaves him pale and shaking, his fingers curling into a fist.}

The Hall of Overseers

{Leaving the coffins and visions behind is a relief - not that he outwardly shows as much. Stone faced, Wen Kexing walks the entire length of the Hall of the Overseers. He peers into each room, noting those that are already taken with a quiet snort.}

Comfortable cages. {He turns suddenly and opens a door at random, striding inside as if he owns everything he sees.} What are they willing to give us for this inconvenience?

{The bathtubs are a nice touch he has to admit.}

The Courtyard

{After bathing himself, Kexing redresses himself and slips out to explore the courtyard. The scent of everything feels stronger and he is highly aware of all movement around him. A strange sensation washes over him - a dizzying rush of power - and when he recovers, he peers at himself in some still water. Nine tails wave behind him and he is surprised into a laugh. Well!}

Finally, something worthwhile. {The sharp desire for peaches makes his mouth water and a tree appears nearby, growing juicy globes of said fruit from each limb. Fox ears twitching in delight, Kexing fetches an armful of the fruits and begins to eat, biting into them eagerly.}

Hall of Overseers~

[fated_dance]

[ Finally, someone who thinks of these rooms as he does. ]

Haven't found yours then.

[ As if he hasn't been doing the exact same thing! ]

Perhaps yours is in the upper levels.

[ There's something about this man. Maybe familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on it. ]

Yeager | Tales of Vesperia | Moon, Ruler

[scythegun]

awakening

[Yeager is out of the coffin and looking around in record time, and he's not particularly interested in remaining in this room. He's a man on a mission, and that mission is to learn more about this place. This certainly isn't where he's supposed to be, after all.

(His fingers brush the iron collar around his neck, an ugly reminder that even here he isn't free.)

It's as he's wandering through the fog that he spots her. A woman with long brown hair in a knightly uniform - you may even catch a glimpse of her running off before Yeager takes off after her. Sheer dumb luck saves him from toppling over the railing, and he catches himself before he can fall.]

Hah. What a cruel prank.

[His grip on the railing is tight for a moment before he turns around and heads back the way he came as if that didn't just happen.

(Of course she wouldn't be here; she can't be. The dead don't come back.)]

the courtyard

[Eventually, Yeager finds his way to the courtyard. Unlike those of you who are now Dragons and Heralds, he has no itch to transform, meaning he's staring at the rather morbid fountain designs with a sharp smile. It's the Herald statue that has his attention, with the hole in its chest serving as the flow of water. How dreadful... But it isn't long before something else catches his attention.]

...Do you hear that?

[Yes, that's directed at you, person who just so happens to be nearby. If you're a fellow Ruler, you may hear those whispers.]

I can't quite make out what they're saying... Ooh, do you think it's a ghost?

[He seems remarkably calm despite that question...]

the wine cellar

[Yeager is nothing if not nosy, and a locked door certainly has his curiosity piqued. Despite the constructs clearly not being capable of speech, he's successfully yapped one into submission - earning himself not only the key, but supposedly control over the room itself. Easy, though somehow he doubts it's really that simple. Regardless, he opens the door to reveal a well-stocked wine cellar.]

What a delightful surprise, this is sure to come in handy.

[Not for the wine itself, but rather to trade. Leave it to the businessman to turn the food scarcity into profit.

If you happen to be nearby, he'll wave you over.]

Do you want to try some of this wine with me? It might be poisoned!

[...Don't sound so excited about that??]

wildcard

( Want to do something else with Yeager? Feel free to hit me up through PM or on pokerap!

A few notes: Yeager speaks with a very thick German accent. He also wears a full suit at all times, and if things go in a smutty direction, he is going to be very particular about it. Do not touch his cravat or suit and do not expect him to remove it. There's a reason behind this, but I'd prefer to only get into that after we've established CR! You are more than welcome to have your character question this and/or argue about it, but note that he is very likely to just leave if this is brought up.

I'm also undecided on his class, so I may play around with the others! )

wine cellar

[hexer]

[... ... ...

You know, Hina had honestly intended on floating into this room to attempt to see if she could get away from all of these people, but a Touhou is always a little weak to the siren call of alcohol. Hina finds herself chuckling a bit; she probably looks like some kind of floating doll hovering a few feet off the ground, but she'll land when he asks that, huffing a small laugh.]

I realize that the situation we are in is far from ideal, little one, but you shouldn't sound so excited to potentially step one foot in the grave...

[That doesn't stop her from primly walking over, though, smiling.]

You will, however, find me unopposed to testing some out with you. Truly, a little bit of reprieve is in order from dealing with this place...how did you manage to find a way in here? I must have passed this by a few times while trying to understand the place we've been brought to.

Edward Courtenay | Downton Abbey | Herald, Moon Pact

[propatriamori]

cw: depression, suicide ideation, general WWI talk

Glass Coffin

Edward wakes with a start, filling his lungs with a gasp. He doesn't know where he is, although that is not unusual these days. He knows his eyes are open, but they perceive nothing, the thick scars over his corneas and around his temples blocking any sight. Wherever he is, it is not the Downton estate in Yorkshire.

He reaches up, and his hands find glass a few inches above his face. Edward frowns, and runs his fingers over the glass. The realisation that he's in a coffin hits him like an artillery shell; the Braille dots are found and read, even though he didn't know Braille before this, but it's not reassuring. Edward has lived with the spectre of death for years now, haunted by it in the trenches, but now that he's in a coffin, he realises how very much he isn't ready.

The panic strikes, and he starts pounding on the lid of the coffin, desperate to escape but unable to do so on his own.

The Gilded Cradle

Freed from his coffin, Edward starts wandering. His process is very slow, limited by his lack of both vision and experience moving without it. He keeps a hand on a wall and the other out in front of him.

It isn't someone he sees that catches his attention, but a scent: the smell of cheap tobacco smoke. Edward's head lifts, and he calls out.

"Mr. Barrow? Is that you?"

Courtyard

Somehow, Edward has made his way outside, and found the courtyard. Once there, he finds a powerful, almost undeniable desire to get down close to the ground, to feel the dirt under his hands. He's no gardener, but he grew up on a working farming estate, and he knows how things grow from the ground. Carefully, laboriously, he gets down on his knees and starts kneading the soil between his hands.

He has no seeds, but that feels like it doesn't matter. Touching and manipulating the ground is the important thing here. He doesn't know how he knows that, but he does. His palms start to tingle as he works and, unnoticed by Edward, faint green shoots start to poke up through the soil he's touched.

[OOC: I'll match style if prose isn't your cup of tea!]

coffin

[dearestdarling]

Ellwood has already exploded out of his coffin like a bat out of hell, and he's panicking a bit himself. That was quite a rude awakening, and he's not comforted by the seemingly endless rows of similar coffins he now sees. His stomach lurches.

Is he dead?

He can't dwell on this for long before a coffin nearby starts making noise. There's thudding from the inside. Someone is trapped inside. His adrenaline surges again, and he scrambles over to it, trying in vain to open the heavy lid with his fingers.

"Just hang on!" He calls to whoever is inside. "I'll get you out!"

palamedes sextus | the locked tomb | ruler/sun

[megatheorem]

cradle

[Waking up in a coffin feels too on the nose to be real, Palamedes thinks, wandering around the cathedral tower. It all feels like someone's cosmic joke, to put a dead necromancer in a tower full of pretty coffins and then wake him up again; why bother? Surely there are simpler ways to mess with him.

It doesn't really matter; there's nowhere else to go, he can already tell, so he sets to wandering and counting things to see if that will give him any clues: the coffins, the number of stairs, windows... None of it is much help.

He follows a familiar figure in the fog until he hits the staircase railing on the landing, then leans too far over it to peer down the stairwell. When he spots another Overseer somewhere down there, he calls:] Hi! Hello, up here! Can you wait there for a few minutes? I'll be down in a flash!

[He will not, he's going to get winded and take more than a few minutes, sorry. Please hold.]

courtyard

[Outside, Palamedes has convinced a Construct to get him pen and paper, and is busily scribbling down... God knows what, honestly, because his handwriting is extremely hard to read. It's got to be something important, though, because when he finishes one page he just flips it and keeps going.

When he lifts his head from scribbling and sees someone else, he points with the pen at the fountain.y]

What do you figure all this is supposed to mean, hm? Hands, head, heart. The damage isn't random, either, or else the water wouldn't be coming out of the, for lack of a better term, wounds. Search me on the local symbolism, though I've doubts it'll be in our favor.

[He pauses, expectantly. What Do You Think? If he doesn't get an answer, he'll continue:]

And then there are these collars, which I've no clue about, but...

[But he'll ramble until stopped, if he must.]

ruler scenario, ota all classes

[Here's the game: opening every door. It feels nostalgic in a way that Palamedes... doesn't hate, but he certainly doesn't like to be reminded of the last mysteriously abandoned-but-still-well-staffed House he spent a length of time in. The Constructs are interesting in a purely academic way; he can be found talking at a few of them even after the first day, because he's hoping sooner or later one will talk back and explain its magical inner workings.

But besides that: opening doors. Because the Constructs listen to him, he's doing what amounts to a tour of the castle, seeing how far he can get into anything that's initially locked. So far it hasn't been all that interesting; a wine cellar is just a wine cellar, and so on, but it's good to know everything that's here.

Anyone else can just join him on his tour and he won't refuse, or he might just come up and ask:]

Did the metal constructs give you any keys?

[He says it politely enough, but he is a spindly gray moth (lotta layers) of a guy who just pops his head around corners unannounced, so. Hey.]

wildcard/misc

[yahoo... you can see more about pal in my emp comment, tl;dr he's a necromancer (i haven't decided if he'll be power-nerfed for influence yet or not), he died but also didn't really die, sort of, kind of, and that's just the basic stuff. m/anyone, he's 21~22, and sun pact for purposes of the tdm. hmu at jojoveller or pm for inquiries!]

courtyard

[spacetogrow]

[Ilphyl is being careful in the Courtyard, after their first arrival had them going... well, a bit feral but in a way that felt more like how a tree would go feral than an animal. But this human doesn't seem to be one of the ones affected.]

Well, having the human missing its hands makes sense to me, since that's one of the distinct things that humanoids have going for us, but why head for the dragon and heart for the pegasus? Dragons are smart, but they also tend to be... forces of nature?

[Ilphyl talks about these like they are all perfectly reasonable things for people to have met. Okay, they've never met a pegasus.]

constantin d'orsay | greedfall | ruler/moon

[takeroot]

constructs

[As soon as Constantin finds one of the taller Constructs already awake and active, he decides he needs it to be his bodyguard in this strange place. Generously speaking, he is one strong breeze away from being snapped in half, and so what better thing to protect him from these new surroundings than a six-foot metal creature? Simple, honestly!

That said, the Construct is just trying to do its duties, and his requests for nebulous things like "protect me" and "stand there looking very scary" are proving to... slide off, after a time. He can presently be found trying to keep it in a doorway, as it tries to pass him and return to the hall.]

You mustn't leave me here among the unknown! Who knows what manner of mysterious adversaries are lying in wait to, to... kidnap me again, I suppose. [A beat.] No matter! The point does stand! Please— open that curtain for me, then, if you're going to be defiant about it.

[Dutifully, the Construct turns to head for the window. Constantin deflates dramatically against the doorframe, only now noticing another Overseer.]

Ah! Hold! I am using this one, thank you. My vigilance shan't wane before the day is done!

[Or, if his vigilance does indeed wane and the Construct has gone, sulkily:] Shut up in this palace like an old maid, and not even the decor will listen to me! I've half a mind to start breaking windows.

rooms (moon pact)

[Passing through the Hall of Overseers, one might hear - and loudly, because he's left the door open - the sound of scraping. Furniture scraping against the floor, specifically, as Constantin decides to rearrange his accommodations... mostly because he can.

Here's the catch: he's not very physically robust, like at all, and this furniture is the good stuff, so it's heavy. Anyone peeking into the room as they go by will see that he's basically shoved all furniture unattached to the floor into the middle of the room and scattered all the loose items like pillows and linens just into piles on the floor. Presently he's trying to wiggle a coffee table towards the door as if to push it into the hallway, and only the dimensions of the table and the mess he made of all the other furniture is stopping him from doing this goofy thing.

He all but scrambles onto the table itself to wave down a passing Overseer, when he notices.]

Hello! Dear friend and fellow kidnapped! Could you lend me a hand with these?

courtyard

[In the Courtyard, despite the rain, Constantin wanders around the fountain with his arms crossed petulantly and his gaze turned up, as if looking for something. It doesn't take long for him to speak up to a nearby Overseer, especially any who look less than relaxed:]

What do you suppose we would find if we could climb to the rooftops from here? Would the storm tear us to ribbons?

[And leaning in closer, conspiratorially,] I have been scouting for the penultimate spot to begin the ascent, if you would like to join me. I happen to be a masterful climber!

[No, he isn't. No, this is stupid. Don't encourage this. Unless.......?]

courtyard 2

[Being a Ruler (although lacking the vocabulary), he is... unimpressed(!) with the apparent lack of physical changes compared to others who've gone through them. Constantin looks for all intents and purposes like a man who's just left a prolonged confinement in a sickbed, because he is; he's delighted to not be dying of plague anymore, honest! But, like.

He isn't a dragon? Practically an insult. So while those looking closely might notice faint spiderweb scarring, as if something had gone wrong under his skin, he's just a normal human idling in the Courtyard, overtly watching Dragons and Heralds with open interest.

Inevitably, with a wistful sigh,] How magnificent! Would that I could siphon off a single drop of that natural splendor!

[He's soooo jealous.]

How does it feel? Powerful?

wildcard/misc

[hello. connie tl;dr because greedfall is not a popular game, and i didn't emp him: he's a wayward princeling made governor of a remote colony, who might have done fine if he didn't contract plague and then get a bunch of magic flushed into his body and out again to cure him, which made him A Little Weird. he's fragile but likes to pretend he's a super strong adventurer. if you need me you can get me at jojoveller for anything!

also open to wildcards of other prompts, and if things lean smutty, m/anyone, with a slight m/m lean. he is 25.]

( rooms )

[snakesona]

[ olrox merely cocks his head at him curiously, hair falling over his shoulder. ]

Of course, though I'm curious as to what the purpose of this little endeavor is.

Hina Kagiyama | Touhou Project | Ruler; Sun Pact

[hexer]

glass coffin

[Hina jolts awake with a start, looking much like a porcelain doll in a glass case for a moment. A largely foreign feeling to a goddess who has never needed such things, she finds herself very out of her element very fast. This isn't Gensokyo. This isn't the mountain where she has secluded herself for so long, this glass feels like something out of fiction, and--

Hina finds herself kicking the door in front of her out of instinct, yelping as it opens with surprising ease--though it takes a bit of damage from likely crashing into something else, given the startled force she puts into it.]

Oh! [...] Oh, oh dear. I truly do hope I'm not meant to pay for that...

[Hina begins to float in the air--at least pleased to see that much isn't taken from her, though it appears for a little bit that she tries to call something to her hands...

And nothing comes of it. That...startles Hina greatly.]

...What is this place? How am I to fulfill my role here if I am not...?

[You can come across her having a bit of a crisis here, but after some time, Hina will actually be going and floating out to any of the glass coffins--particularly, those who have trouble opening them. In an instant she'll be floating over to try and help--]

Trust in me for a moment--I will set you free!

grief hath mates: drawing room

[The strange machines are unlike anything she's ever seen before. Hina ends up wandering the halls, floating lightly above the ground as she attempts to get a lay of the land. Perhaps moreover, she finds herself wanting to find a place to close herself off for a bit; even without her misfortune gathering powers, every part of her screams that she's still the same living taboo. That it's only a matter of time, and she should find somewhere to hole herself up.

...She manages to convince the Construct to allow her to take charge of the room, though it's largely an ordeal of privacy; if she's alone, she cannot harm anyone. If she's alone, maybe this ceaseless nagging feeling will leave her that this place is something beyond even Gensokyo. And that's terrifying.

As it stands, though, you'll be able to find Hina in the drawing room, seemingly taking stock of items in there with curious fervor. She seems to float to and fro as she attempts to see if she can find a sketchpad or something similar...before turning around, seeing you and the door she left open.]

Ah--! [...And well, there goes some colored pencils she was going to use. Drat.] ...Please, do pardon me. I was hoping for some privacy, but it seems I've left the door open to any and all. Come in if you would like, though I know not how good of company I will be...

[Please don't mind the floating girl coming back down to earth to gather what she proceeded to drop, sighing.]

locked in
(nsfw optional: read below)

[It's not lost on Hina that people are going to starve here. Hell, even without her usual divinity, Hina herself is certainly starting to worry over the others she's been insisting on simply watching over.

So she observes. The flight patterns of the machines, what they do, trying to discover how they produce food. She wants to get food to as many people as she can, though without her spellcards and powers...well, she can play an evasive game, but that risks the food being destroyed.

It's as Hina observes the Construct in front of her that perhaps you have the same idea. Or perhaps you're starving yourself. Either way, Hina will turn to you, and...]

Pardon me a moment. Have you any experience with dealing with machines like these?

[Or alternately, you might find Hina groundbound for a moment, attempting to ignore the growling from a stomach she's never usually had to listen to.]

wildcard

((ooc: HELLO my name is Sable/cityescape, feel free to use this prompt for hitting me with any of the other scenarios, if you'd like! Some basic rules of the road here since I know Touhou's semi obscure:

- Hina is over several hundred years old, but for the game's purposes, she looks to be about in her mid-20s, appearance/age-appearance-wise.
- I am not opposed to NSFW threads with Hina, but I am going to forewarn that she is, in fact, a Misfortune Goddess who very explicitly has stayed away from humans for as long as she's lived for her own safety. While she's not entirely naive to such acts, she is in fact a seven hundred year old virgin entirely too focused on her job, and I'm hoping to develop her out of this with time! All the same, however; if you do want to try, just be warned that it may take some doing. Just talk to me and we can hash something out though!
- ...Okay while I could not think of a way to make this an actually interesting prompt, Hina may in fact try to sleep outside. Do with this what you will but girl is going to be evasive as hell to her reasoning. Don't worry about it.
- Hina has lost access to her misfortune gathering abilities, because otherwise she wouldn't be inclined to seek out CR at all and like. No. You're going to socialize and LIKE it. She can still float though, but that's it.))

Drawing Room!

[elysianfield]

[Phainon has been exploring mainly, making a mental map of the place he's now forced to reside. And it's while he's doing this that he stumbles upon poor Hina, looking around herself. He approaches her, curious about her attire and floating. He's not in Kansas Amphoreus anymore for sure, but her bow draws his eye especially.]

Hi there! What are you looking for?

[When he accidentally startles her, he pivots quickly into being apologetic.]

Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just looking around, myself. Trying to get acquainted with this place has been an uphill battle.

[He kneels and begins to help her pick up her dropped items. It's only right, when he's startled her so bad...]

Inara Serra | Firefly | Sun/Herald

[companioning]

Overseer, Awaken and Conquer

Inara woke to the taste of stale air and the press of velvet against her spine. When she reached out, her fingers met cold, unyielding glass. She blinked, frowning as her eyes adjusting to a dim, multicolored light filtering through a heavy pane directly above her.

She was trapped inside a casket of flawless crystal, bound by thick, ornate brass scrollwork that ran along the seams like frozen vines.

Her hand flew to her throat, meeting a heavy band of cold metal. A thick brass collar rested around her neck, its smooth surface seamless and lacking any visible lock. Panic was a luxury she could not afford. She took a slow, measured breath, utilizing her Guild training to still her racing heart. She hooked her fingers beneath the metal band and pulled with all her strength, but no amount of prying would move it. It fit perfectly, a suffocating reminder of her captivity.

She evaluated the rest of her surroundings. The space was narrow, tailored exactly to her frame. She wore her finest crimson silks, yet her fan and her hidden blades were gone. Above her, the stained glass pane cast vibrant hues of sapphire and ruby across her face.

Traced into the glass artwork were bold, chilling words:
Overseer, Awaken and Conquer.

What?! She didn't even understand that at all. She didn't understand anything at the moment it seemed. She didn't know who had taken her or why they had put her in a coffin. Her mind was racing, nothing made any sense!

She pressed her palms against the ceiling, but the structure did not budge. She tried again and again. And then again and again. Time began to lose it's meaning. She ran through ancient tea ceremonies in her mind, fighting the creeping despair and the heavy weight of the collar.

Then, a sharp mechanical click shattered the silence.The colorful light shifted, blocked by a silhouette standing over her. Inara looked up through the stained text. The face was obscured by shadows, but she saw the slow, deliberate movement of a hand reaching for the primary brass latch at her head.

With a heavy, grinding hiss, the seal broke. The glass lid swung upward on silent hinges, and the rush of cool, fresh air tasted like life itself.

"Bāngbāng wǒ," she managed as she took a deep breath. "I-I believe I've been kidnapped..."

The Courtyard

She was so confused. She felt like she was in a dream. It had to be a dream. At first she had wondered if Mal could have had something to do with her predicament, but even though he was a lot of things, cruel was not one of them. She'd wondered if maybe this was something to do with the Alliance, but she didn't think that even they would be able to do any of... well any of this.

But even though she couldn't believe anything that was happening to her, instinct carried her forward... Right to the fountain in the center of the courtyard. She couldn't help but smile just a little as she walked, listening to the water. As she walked the perimeter though, an alien, overwhelming urge began to coil deep within her chest.

It was a powerful, biological compulsion to change—to transform—though she couldn't comprehend what her body was demanding. Her skin flushed hot, felt as though her skin was crawling, and the heavy brass collar around her neck seemed to vibrated with a faint, low hum.

Suddenly, her focus locked onto a wide, stone garden planter nearby.

A fierce, very irrational wave of territorial protectiveness washed over her. Her breath hitched; this tiny patch of soil was hers. Driven by the primal instinct, she pressed her bare hands deep into the dark earth of the planter.

The soil rippled. Inara gasped as a surge of raw energy flowed from her fingertips, terraforming the tiny confines of the garden plot. Right before her eyes, saplings broke through the dirt, twisting and stretching. Within seconds, a cluster of small, breathtakingly beautiful trees blossomed into full growth, their leaves shimmering with the exact ruby and sapphire hues of the stained glass that had held her captive.

"Mīn! Mine!" she snapped at anyone who dared to edge too close to her.

Wildcard

((Have any other ideas? I'm game!))

(((OOC: Hover over the Chinese words and there's a translation!!)))

courtyard

[deathstealer]

Though the seasonal sections were entertaining, and Ranni had been enjoying the snow and the chill through the winter gate, she nonetheless decides to return to the inner courtyard for further contemplation of the clues given. The statue of the three figures, she is certain, is important to this place. Others like herself have obviously had similar thoughts, and it is there that Ranni finds a woman crouched over dark soil, weaving magic through its grains and beckoning forth vibrant trees.

Ranni eyes the trees in mild interest. Where one pair of hands steeples thoughtfully against her chest, sleeves slipped down far enough to reveal the interior metal of her form where the exterior porcelain has broken away, the other pair is held up, palms open, in the universal sign of peace.

"I am unarmed,
and nought but a humble witch
of no renown.
I pose thee no threat."

That's mostly lies, but Ranni has absolutely no intention of launching an attack at this moment, so she isn't a threat. At least for now. Her lambent blue eye gazes down at the woman, largely impassive, with the faintest hint of curiosity. She does not clothe herself like a woman overly given to snarling, territorial displays ⸻ no, her dress is far too fine for that, a woman of stature and bearing, not little but primal instinct.

"'tis a mighty magic you display,
to bring such life forth from mere soil."

Pav Yudin | Fear and Hunger 2: Termina | Sun Pact/Herald.

[khaotychnyy]

— ooc.
////////////////////////////// notes ///////

( pav's canon requires a lot of content warnings, but for pav specifically: war (vastly different alt earth WWII) and war crimes, violence/murder/blood and gore, cults and sacrifices, sexual violence, general extreme despair.

EMP is here and his info/permissions are here. feel free to contact via PM or vandalisto. )

— right to it.
////////////////////////////// glass coffins ///////

( Hearing pounding from inside one of the glass coffins, Pav is quick to move to take a look. He'd only just gotten out of his coffin, so his breathing is a little quick ... but when the opportunity before him presents itself, he waits a moment before helping the person inside out of the lid.

He offers a hand. )

You're lucky I decided to hang back.

( In those words is a distinct lack of warmth. )

— the hand that feeds.
////////////////////////////// courtyard or lower floors // NSFW potential ///////

( Pav's had to do worse to make sure he had something to eat. Not so much in recent years, but as he was coming up in the Bremen army, sure. He's been coveting a look around the rooms on the lower floors, finding it much more suited to his tastes than whatever the hell he's been assigned upstairs.

He can be spotted observing those lower floor rooms for a while, perhaps a bit creep-like. Who the hell stays outside of someone's bedroom? Is he waiting for someone in particular? He seems to perk up when the Constructs come around and might even go off to follow them, but he does quite a bit of watching.

In the Courtyard, he's a little more proactive. His doglike traits are out, ears tall and perked up. Doesn't quite like the way the rain wets him, though. He's quick to undo the buttons on his jacket and shirt, revealing the well-muscled and scarred physique underneath.

With someone nearby he taps their arm, pointing to the little hidden area where a Construct is headed with some food. )

Watch. Have you noticed them too?

hand that feeds

[dearestdarling]

[Ellwood is staring at Pav a little from where he's drinking fountain water in the courtyard. First because of his dog ears, and then because his shirt is open and that's free real estate for Ellwood's gaze.

He looks away just as Pav is about to speak to him, trying to make it seem like he wasn't staring. His gaze follows his finger to the construct.]

Oh, yes, helpful little things. [His accent is of the posh British variety. He doesn't seem to find the constructs unusual; they're just mechanical servants, to him, and he's already been bossing them around a bit.] Wonder what it's doing out here.

aerith gainsborough | final fantasy vii | ruler, sun pact

[evanescent]

The Hands That Grasp (& The Glass Coffins)

[Aerith feels the sensations, indistinct and dreamlike, of hands caressing her tenderly, only to wrap punishingly around her throat. She awakens with a gasp and a start of unfiltered terror, a hand pressed to her neck against cool metal. As she attempts to move in the confined space she finds herself in, panic tightens in her chest again when she realizes where she is, what she's inside.

A second or two later, a burst of wind from seemingly thin air sends the heavy cover to the glass coffin flying off, and a pale and shaky young woman emerges from it, still trying to catch her breath. Upon noting she has an audience, she manages an uneasy smile, trying to convey a confidence she does not feel at the moment.]

Oh... hello. [The color is returning to her features slowly, though she still attempts to tug at the jewelry around her neck periodically, as if testing the hold of it against her, albeit meager, strength. And she still looks quite unsteady, even in her attempts at levity.] Would you happen to know how to take this... [Tug, tug-] thing off? [Time to make a joke...] It's not really my color.


[Later, she's temporarily given up on dislodging the choker in favor of helping others out of their coffins. Some are wedged shut and some require surprisingly little effort on her part to push away, but regardless, she's enlisting help as soon as she sees someone who looks particularly strong, or just as lost as she does.] Hey! Excuse me - do you mind helping? I don't think they can get out. [And she knows she wouldn't want to be trapped in a coffin, no matter how beautiful that coffin might be.]

Locked In

[After a while of exploration, hunger reliably sets in. How she finds the kitchen is after twists and turns around the vast and mostly-empty castle. She's reminded of the bedtime stories that her mother would share with her, of children being spirited away to live among magical creatures, and has to repress a shiver. Surely there was a way out. But first came the matter of food, something she quickly grows to realize is in short supply. Vegetables gone to rot, dried out and hard loaves of bread, and not much else to speak of.

She's not the sort to panic. But there's the beginnings of strain in her voice when she notices others having better luck than she does, and finally decides to give up on independent search to seek out assistance.]

Hello, um... where did you get food? I'm starving-

The Courtyard (& The Gardens)

[Satiated for the moment and having quickly lost interest in her room and its meager furniture, she decides to seek comfort by going out into nature. The grim sight of the fountain is studied for quite a while by her, and she watches the others milling about and their apparent transformation with interest rather than fear. She'll approach to offer help if someone seems especially distressed. Why she hasn't transformed is a question she mulls over to herself, but overall she's grateful for the lack of change. Occasionally, however, she can be found in a whispered, heated argument with... what seems to be thin air. Whoops.

Most often though, she'll be seen in the spring area of the gardens, crouched near a burst of wildflowers or seated in a hammock beneath an alcove of blossoming trees. The confusion and lowkey terror that had gripped her earlier seems absent — in fact, she appears more at home here than she has been anywhere else so far.

Those approaching might get the gentle admonishment of-] Oh, be careful! Don't step on the flowers. [And she says this regardless if said flowers are beautiful, or a tangle of overgrown weeds. They were here first, after all.]

Wildcard

[For anything else (including smut or intimate content)! Aerith is 22, and open to f/f, f/m, f/nb and f/*. Kinklist! (Somewhat outdated). If you have something in particular you'd like to plot out and none of the options speak to you, feel free to shoot me a PM or hit me up gravesinger.]

Locked In

[livelamentlove]

[Daan is returning from his room in the Moon Pact section of the Overseer's hall with an empty plate. He didn't feel he needed to return it to the kitchen, but he'd wanted to follow the Construct that delivered it to him. Just out of curiosity, to see if he could find the source and provide for himself. No luck, though.

Well, a beautiful woman talking to him is its own kind of luck. He only wishes he still had something to spare her. His car ears flicker at the sides of his head, where his human ones used to be. His voice has a posh manner to it,]

That machine butler brought me a small portion of rice and dried meat. I was in my room at the time, I don't know what caused it to... [just existing? Is there a way to make it happened again? Daan doesn't know, it feels like nothing here is well explained to them.]

Miranda Lotto | D.Gray-man | Herald Wolpertinger | Moon

[timeonyourside]

I. Awaken (Gilded Cradle)

[Miranda had been confused and disoriented, trapped in such a small space with no recollection of how she came to be there besides the feeling of hands around her neck. A phantom memory that shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but it wasn't the first time she's been grabbed in such a way. A terrible dream to have surely, but she needed to wake up and check on everyone. She did have a mission to complete. Now, if only she could.... Oh.

The stain glass doors are lovely, is what she first thinks, when her eyes focus on them. Beautiful like the windows of a cathedral. That doesn't explain how she came to be here. She pushes on them. Nothing happens. That isn't...good. Of course, it's not good. There's nothing good about waking up in a strange stained glass box. The anxiety begins to creep in, she swallows, and pushes again. Not enough.

She was trapped. Trapped is bad. What if the others were trapped? Krory? General? Did the Noah capture them? She had to get out!

And perhaps the force of her own fears gave her the strength she needed to shove her way up and out of the box almost flopping herself over in excess as the doors swung open.

She gasps like she forgot to breathe the entire time only to look up and see someone else right there.]

Ah...h-hello?

[Did they help her open the box...or were they the ones who had put her there?]


II. Exploration (Constructs, Kitchens)

[The Castle makes her almost nostalgic, perhaps, in how the long wide halls and confusing layout reminds her of the old Black Order headquarters. Only much emptier. The dozens and dozens of scientists and Finders weren't there. But she wasn't alone, she tells herself. There were others brought here just as she was. She clutched at her chest, feeling for a strap that should be there but wasn't. Not having Time Record was...very disconcerting. Doesn't help her anxious thoughts or concerns to be without it, no it doesn't.

She was wandering the halls by herself, easily startled by every unexpected noise, and wary of the metal gargoyles spread out along the halls. When you've live in a castle where parts of it come to life, you have a healthy respect for everything in it.

The only problem was...she was certain she was lost now. She had no idea how to get back to the Gilded Cradle.]

I...I thought I only took a left and then a right. But perhaps it was two rights?

[She kept walking, because standing still wouldn't help, but that did not make it any easier... Hopefully someone would come along and help her.

Eventually she would find something. The kitchens! A massive awe-inspiring kitchen. Jeryy would have loved a kitchen this size!]

You could bake so many cookies in here...

[Except their didn't seem to be any ingredient in which to bake. That wasn't good. Oh no. She goes to various shelves, cabinets, and even into what she assumes is the icebox to find any kind of foods...but there isn't anything.]

Oh no, oh no oh no oh no...

[Is she trapping herself in a doom loop? Why yes. Yes she is. Someone please stop her.]


III. Rest??? (Hall of Overseers)

[The dormitories? Another place for Miranda to get lost in, but when she realizes names are by the doors she just walks and walks until she finds her own. Habit has her taking her to the upper floors, looking for a place to settle, not that she has anything to settle when she has nothing she normally carries with her. No Time Record, no first aid kit, no...anything. Even when she was a complete failure who sucked at every job she was given, she had something. It's very strange to be completely without.

Unfortunately, she's noticing that each of the rooms has names by it...and none of them are her own. She couldn't even enter the one room she tried, it was like something stopped her from even opening the door.]

Maybe these aren't the names of people who currently are here...?

[Because of course her room must be upstairs in the communal area, not in the more luxurious lower floors... She takes a chance to ask someone nearby.]

Oh! Um, were you able to open any of these rooms?


IV. Courtyard

[The fountain is beautiful, but Miranda laments the destruction that left it in its current state. But at least it provides water.]

Perhaps we can find buckets to bring more water into the dormitories.

[She takes another sip, but then can't stay by the fountain. No, this isn't where she should be. She rolls her shoulders after scooping some water into her mouth, trying to get the itch out of her skin. Perhaps she's becoming too warm? She takes her long jacket off, settling it beside her, and her sleeveless turtle neck giving her some relief, but still her shoulders feel uncomfortable. Yes, it feels perfectly logical to take her coat off despite the rain. She almost wants to take off her shoes, but tells herself that's very foolish with all the potential things she could step on. No, the shoes must stay on.

She's trying to ease the tension in herself that tells herself something just isn't Right.

She's becoming drenched, but barely notices. It sends her eyes wandering, head turning. What is it? What's wrong? Is there something there? She leaves the fountain and can't help but feel wrong. Until she sees it. A patch a dirt and stone. She sets her jacket on it. It settles something in her.]

Yes, maybe...maybe this is a start.

[But it doesn't stop there. Her little space needs something else, something she's not quite sure of yet. But she knows that, she doesn't want anyone else stepping into it. If someone comes near her little spot, she'll tense up, nervous and uncomfortable.]

E-Excuse me, could you please step over there?


V. Wildcard

{OOC: I'm up for a lot of things, so feel free to throw it at me! Miranda is a nervous/anxious sort and I don't see sex being something that happens immediately in a TDM, but you're more than welcome to bring it up to her and watch her become scandalized and very flustered. If you'd like to plot something out hit me up on the EMP or chocolateisbrainfood}

III

[gascogne]

[D'Artagnan has watched the last few moments, the woman wandering along the hall, clearly reading the names etched into the stone, but with an air of aimlessness that tugs uncomfortably at his chest, and so when she's noticed him emerging from his quiet observation near the turn in the hallway, his smile is soft and genuine, though even that may appear fainly adjacent to a smirk without intention for it, and he doesn't reply with something sarcastic or droll as he might for another who appeared more confident.]

I fear only the one I was meant to, Mademoiselle.

[He steps to the other side of Miranda, walks two more doors down, and places his fingers on the engraving above it, where four names are listed; a door alike as all of them, but the only one to yield.]

This one. I've tried several others.

olrox | castlevania nocturne | dragon/sun pact

[snakesona]

( i. the gilded coffin )

[ olrox is an observer.

a habit honed out of survival. it is better to watch than to be watched. his abilities thankfully afford him that much, though he stands as himself and not his usual smoky-form. he certainly has questions in his head. he had been on his way back to the Americas. he had no interest in fighting erzebet bathory and bleeding out on a parisian street.

but mizrak's face remains in his view, unable to be banished. as if summoned by his thoughts, a phantom version of the monk runs past him. phantoms, ghosts, apparitions. they all seem to mill around, but olrox does not bother. ]

Curious, isn't it? What haunts us.

[ he turns to whoever is close by with an enigmatic smile. ]

What is it that you see?

( ii. locked in — vampirism ) cw: biting, feeding

[ all this work is making him peckish. surely there is some unsuspecting fool who will wander away from the others. caught up in their curiosity, their fear, their concern. all those feelings are heady to a vampire. the stronger the emotion, the stronger the feed.

and so, olrox will approach you from a corner, where no one else can be seen, with a smile and a bow. ]

Lost? Let me help you.

[ his smile has no teeth. for now. ]

( iii. the hall of overseers )

[ olrox hangs by the entrance, waiting for someone from the moon pact to linger near the door so he can say. ]

Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?

( iv. the courtyard )

[ for the others, turning or changing is a painful process. unfamiliar and alien. for olrox it was no such thing. after all, he was gifted many forms when he was turned. perhaps it was simply his nature to embody more than a human body. the change feels different, more charged as if other forces were at play here but olrox chooses not to fight it for now. he embraces it as he turns into a large serpent, fanning his large reptilian wings.

he hisses as he looms over whoever is nearby. ]

( v. wildcard )

[ open to any prompts, including dragon transformations. you can reach me via timmtams or simply pm this journal. please note that olrox is gay so m/m sexual relations only. gen is perfectly fine for everything else. ]

locked in

[infirm]

[ what he gets is more of a suspecting fool who listens to the prickling on the back of his neck... but that voice is buried under an arrogant and strong constitution, awash in a chemical bloodstream. ]

[ the prey Olrox has found has tainted blood, a mix of chemical and supernatural, alien even. it could inspire disgust, or addiction — or both, as these things so often do. there's pure life in him, the veintap of an entire planet, filtered into a serum that sets the bright inner green ring of his otherwise blue irises aglow as Cloud looks over in the low light. ]

[ or perhaps all that can be gleaned from him is that something is wrong with him. not an unusual conclusion to come to. ]

You don't know where you're going any better than I do. [ dry, a cross of his arms. apparently he isn't impressed by manners. ]