synodiporia_ooc | Test Drive #18

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test drive

Test Drive #18

Welcome to the Synodiporia Test Drive Meme! Below the cuts there are two new prompts, and here are the prompts from previous test-drives, which you’re still welcome to use in this post. When you comment, be sure you specify what prompt you want to play with, and please put up your own threadstarter—it makes for a much more friendly environment that a forest of bare toplevels! OCs are especially welcome! Please take a quick look at our Directory & familiarize yourself with the concept and setting of the game before you jump in.

Our upcoming app round runs March 24th–April 1st. Our next Jaunt will be Olympus Upended: a classical myth and fantasy adventure, set in a Trojan War-era Greece full of gods, monsters, and titans. During the Jaunt, the Olympians and their chosen heroes must deal with the machinations of fate when their powers and domains begin to ebb and flow, faltering or in some cases transferring to others.

Prompt #47 features a liminal space where Travelers find themselves floating down the Tunnel of Love.
Prompt #48 features a liminal space with beds, balloons, and no ground to be seen.
Prompt #49 features a space walk set in the universe from the Escape From Junkworld jaunt. Having escaped the destruction of the prison planet Junkworld Gehenna, these refugees from the four major spacefaring races--crystalline Hecatites, psychic-but-prone-to-hallucination horned Diabolin; scaled Gorgons with their petrifying abilities and tentacled hair, and your bog-standard humans, newcomers to the stars--now finally have a moment where they can slow down.

#47

You find yourself in a boat in a long tunnel, light deliberately kept low. Oh, the sides and the ceiling glitter and sparkle and the dioramas you occasionally pass seem to glow with their own inner light, but unless you’re naturally adapted for low-light, it’s going to take your eyes a little while to adjust. Once they do--or perhaps even before they do--you’ll find that you’re not alone in the boat. There’s someone riding next to you. Maybe they’re a friend among the Travelers, maybe someone you’ve grown to love. Maybe they’re a perfect stranger. Maybe they’re even someone you hate. They’re still stuck in the boat with you.

Once your eyes have adjusted properly, you’ll see that the boat you’re both in is made of chocolate--white, dark, or milk--and carved in the shape of a swan. The ‘water’ it floats down is no such thing, but instead pink champagne. Those dioramas in the wall? They’re dramatizations of various moments of passion and romance in the love-lives of you and your fellow Travelers.

Just when it seems that you’ve been in the tunnel forever, it suddenly widens into a much larger room with a ceiling open to the sky, the underground waterway flowing through the center, constricted until there's barely water in the side, so that you can easily disembark from your swanboat during the minute it takes for the boat to glide through the room, which seems to be some sort of cafe. A ‘Group Date’ cafe, whatever that is, according to the sign. Instead of food on the menu board, there are instead lists of questions to ask your date. The floor is tiled with conversation hearts. The furniture, like the swan boats, is made of chocolate. Finally, the walls are made of valentine’s cards, addressed to initials and signed by Roman numerals, all in the same loopy pink cursive that makes up the questions menu.

#48

You find yourself in bed. In fact, each Traveler starts out in their own private bed, which is suspended from a floating hot air balloon (minus the gas burner) and both balloon and bed are decorated vaguely to the taste of the Traveler therein. It’s a lovely, comfortable bed, perfect for sleeping or just plain lazing around, and it allows a perfect view to all the other beds suspended in the sky--and the doors to created spaces as well, themselves suspended from balloons of their own.

There is no ground in this liminal space. Sky above, sky below, and the great crowd of balloons which are more or less level. Sometimes they drift close enough so that they bump together and you can easily move from one to the other, though of course they’ll soon drift away from each other.

Of course, this being liminal space, there’s no reason why you can’t walk through the thin air or even fly to the other balloons and doors, as long as you realize that’s an option. Just take care you don’t panic and forget you can, because once you forget you can fly the only thing you can do is fall. At least if you do fall into the endless sky, you’ll just have a few harrowing seconds to panic before you land right on your balloon bed again.

#49

It’s been a week since the Empress of Moths reached its destination. The planet below, with no official name, merely numerical designation referring to its star, is not exactly ideal. Its temperature is on the lower end of what humans will tolerate; its bedrock is not the best suited for Gorgon caves; there are few natural resources for the Diabolins to exploit; and its external geology isn’t quite to Hecatite tastes. It is, however, an M-type planet that will support intelligent life and has, in fact, supported a small smuggler’s base for quite some time.

Despite all these shortcomings, it’s much preferable to the radioactive slag heap the refugees formerly called home. Now that arrangements have been made with the local smugglers, most of the refugees have left the ship on outrider shuttles and it’s immediately noticeable how much less crowded the Empress is--even with a few of the local smugglers aboard after the negotiations.

But then, not everyone plans to stay planetside. There’s a sizable contingent who want to keep flying with the Empress, finding work among the stars to support their newfound home. It’s why she still hovers over the planet, instead of coming to an undignified landing on the surface. And before the Empress leaves, her new crew and any visitors currently aboard (smugglers and Investigating Travelers alike) have the opportunity to undertake a space walk together. It’s time to don one’s space suit and helmet, attach one’s air supply, and take a step outside into the beautiful, cold vacuum of the sea of stars.

Threaded | Flat

47

This is probably not the kind of place one should put a ten year old child with anyone, but Lovers clearly doesn't care. And while Pearl is a bit confused at quite a bit of it, she is looking over the pictograms on the wall and the couples who are clearly actual couples in other boats.

"It's so ~romantic~!"

49

The tiniest Hecatite of them all is a little bit nervous about this whole thing, looking out at the others anxiously and down at her own space suit. Pearl really like space, for the little time she's been in it, but she knows basically nothing about it and--

"I--is it safe?"

47

I hope you weren't attached to this boat, because as soon as Kitty realized what material the boat they'd found themselves in was made of, she climbed out of her seat and checked for pieces that would be easy to break off. So within two minutes of waking up, she's stuffing chocolate into her mouth.

"It's good! You should get some, too."

48

Walking in the air was fun for a bit, but it is a lot MORE fun to jump from one bed to the next. Or onto the balloon of the next. Sometimes she misses, but after the first scares she realized that she'd find herself in her bed again, and that kind of failsafe freefall is almost as much fun as the triumph of having made it to the target.

...She doesn't always check if the other bed is already occupied, though, so at times she might land on a person, or just narrowly miss them.

47
Kisame ends up emerging from a glowing portal and tumbling right into the champaigne. Or he would, if he wasn't a ninja. Instead he lands on top of it in a three-point stance, hardly making a ripple. Considering that he's almost six-five, blue, and has visible gills and a really, really big sword strapped to his back, he makes quite an arresting picture. After a moment of quick assessing glances at the surrounding he stands up, pulls off a hat that says "water" on it in kanji, and drawls.

"Back here again, eh?"

Then he approaches the nearest boat, walking across the water like it's normal. "You there, I need an update. Last thing I remember was trying to swim away from a place called Belljar. What's happened since? Have we found out anything more about these Champs?"

49
The massive (for a Gorgon) man known only as "Key" does not play well with others, even for a Gorgon. But he's still a skilled engineer, when he isn't finding inventive ways to intimidate (or occasionally murder) other sentients. But whatever they need to spacewalk for is important for survival, so he's willing to help the others with this. His pale blue tentacles curl around his face in an expression of amusement as he holds the last piece of his suit in his hands.

"Make sure you get it right. Your suit malfunctions, don't expect me to come rushing to help you out."

Bonus Psychic Post Wildcard!
So you all are still using this invitation for the Champs to probe our minds. Do any of you actually trust that they aren't, or are you just using it because it's convenient?

[That's it. That's the way Kisame introduces himself on the network.]

If it's the latter, I have a way around it. I won't guarantee that the Champs can't spy on this method either, but at least it's less mentally risky. I have two conditions. First- No using it outside Liminal; I don't trust any of you brats not to let it end up in the hands of a native. Second- You learn at least one cypher before I let you have it full time.

If any of you are interested, don't attempt to contact me this way. I won't respond. I'll be training by the lake I made, however, so if you can find that, you can find me.

Hoshigaki Kisame, out.

[There is indeed a very large blue man with an equally large sword doing sword forms on top of a lake that definitely wasn't previously a part of Liminal, if anyone goes to look.]

-47-

Orion floats, apparently impervious to the sappy mood, down the Tunnel of Love, peering over the edge of the boat. He pointedly ignores the dioramas on the wall, a fair number of which show a blonde teenage girl who doesn't look anything like him. Damn place can't keep its mind-reading to itself, so as far as he's concerned, the least he can do in protest is not get provoked.

"Unless we're the first boat to go through here, this champagne has got to be what, ten percent chocolate by now? Who thought this was a good idea?"

-48-

Along floats a second bed, containing a cleric, sitting cross-legged and looking slightly bored and slightly exasperated. The drop of infinity feet waiting below the bed is substantial, but when you used to spend most of your time on an airship, it's not too terrible.

As he approaches, he monologues in the least-dramatic tone of voice imaginable. "Answer me these questions three, and I shall use my phenomenal divine powers to grant your every desire. Question the first: Why this?"

Hopefully the sarcastic delivery will make it clear that he's not actually here to grant any wishes, but if someone gets the wrong idea, that's their problem. Right?

Bonus network post

Attention all. Being from the mysterious future year of 20XX has been fun and all, but I'm going to lose my mind if I don't play a game with a bunch of numbers in it soon. I didn't get whisked out of a dimension without video games just to wind up in another dimension without video games.

TLDR I'm going to go figure out which gods I need to butter up and/or murder to get a decent gaming setup in the phantom zone. If you come from a dimension where video games are a thing, or if you're tired of hearing the phrase "video games" over and over and want to know what the fuss is about, feel free to drop in once I get it set up. Let's get some good old fashioned LAN parties going.

Anyway, taking game requests in the off chance that I can pull this off. No promises.

47

[No. Nope don't like it. Do not like it. The only reason Hare hasn't kicked a hole in his chocolate swan and tried to book it is because he has no idea how deep the champagne is, and dying of a snuffed furnace isn't high on his priority list.

But he is going to blow smoke and cover his face for the entire time they pass through the tunnel, awkwardly refusing to talk about the various romantic scenes involving himself and a very old electric hand drill.

Don't fucking judge him.

The robot all but hurls himself from the boat the second he sees a chance to and-]

THAT WAS HORSESHIT!

48

[Also heights are bad.

Yeah he's not even going to try to leave his bed.

Dreaming, oddly, isn't new for Hare, and he knows he's been told if you fall and hit the ground in a dream you die in real life sooooo.

He's not a transformer, he can't become a fucking plane.

Nah fam, he's gonna sit in this hot air balloon bed and panic in helpless silence.

This is a good plan.]

47

Sure, the walls would display his love life - if he'd ever bothered to cultivate one. Right now, it mostly just seems to be a huge joke at his expense. And now that he thinks about it, he's not sure what he's actually applying that to: the fact he's in a tunnel of love, or the fact that he seems to have been whisked here not of his own volition, in a way he doesn't remember, in a manner that is surely not very scientific.

(Not that science has had as much of a role in shaping his life as he'd like. But you have to maintain a belief in SOMETHING.)

He pokes lightly at the chocolate boat. "This is surprisingly durable considering the materials," he comments. "Or the fact that it is currently floating in a substance that should be dissolving it."

48

Hiroshi is thankful he doesn't have a fear of heights. Or falling, for that matter.

He does have a rankling sense of irritation for the irrationality of the situation, however. The balloon shouldn't be floating without hot air. There's no reason for it to be supporting a bed. And are those doors floating in the middle of nowhere? The only rational explanation is that he is in a dream at the moment.

That's fine. He likes dreams. Better than "memories."

His bed is immaculate; crisp, simple sheets, well made. Just as he prefers it. He sits up, watching the other balloons pass by. It's peaceful, in a way.

Edited 2017-03-24 21:01 (UTC)

#47

The saddest thing about floating along in a tunnel of love like this is when you don't have anyone to share the ride with. At least that's how it seems like at first - once it's apparent there's someone else, Bolin gets into a better position (he had been moping in an almost lying position at his end of the boat) and smile.

"Hey there! Nice ride, don't you think?"

Of course whoever it is, it's not the one he'd like the person to be - but that doesn't mean he can't be friendly towards this new person.

#48

When you're an earthbender being suspended in midair is not an ideal position. No matter how much it's modeled after his tastes, he's clinging to the bed with his life.

"No no no! Didn't they get the memo?! We earthbenders are most comfortable down there! Not up here! Please tell me there's a ground down there I can go to!"

Sorry Bolin, but your ground is on another Liminal.

47

There's romance and there's trying too hard, and this is definitely the latter. Sara Smith breaks off a bit of dark chocolate swan boat and eats it, leaning her cheek on her fist. If rolling her eyes was a gunshot, her expression is the hammer drawn back and ready to fire.

It's good chocolate, though. She adjusts her arm-guard and the collar of her wetsuit.

"Everyone here is super old," she mutters. "This is the weirdest dream I've ever been in."

49

Sara steps off the open airlock and trusts the rest of her flight to math.

The view from orbit is always killer. The dusty, cold little rock below them is one of a million others that Sara's seen on planetary recon missions, but seeing suns rise over the terminator line never gets old. She doesn't usually get to see it outside of a full-blown mech; taking a spacewalk in just an armored skinsuit with a jetpack is a treat for her.

She takes out a data pad and a stylus and starts drawing the view from orbit. She could just take a picture, and probably will later - but she likes the act of drawing. It gives her some white noise through the suit.

(Endgame spoilers for Umineko Chiru and for Higurashi are likely in the comments.)

48

Bernkastel takes one look at this particular reality shard and then, without changing her bored expression, starts to clap.

"A lovely aesthetic," she says. "My compliments to whichever Arcana crafted this space."

She then steps off the edge and allows gravity to assert itself, seeing if there's anything below. When she grows tired of that, she floats up again and starts to inspect the other balloons, looking for anything that might hold her interest.

49

Another interesting fragment. And how sweet it is for things to be interesting again.

Outwardly, Bernkastel is a Diabolin - she checks herself in the mirror and smirks at her horns. Then she extends the senses of a Diabolin outwards, playing with the psionic empathy she now has in this role, and tasting the excitement of it's players.

And finds other Infiltrators. Maybe worth her time. She treads softly through the ship's corridors looking for fellow travellers.

Wildcard: re-arrival
Suddenly in liminal there's a portal, and a small Japanese woman steps out. And promptly trips over her uchikake over-robe with a curse under her breath. Her clothes are austere in design, and were fine quality cotton, once. Now they look like they've been put through the wringer. Still she straightens herself, looking proud in spite of the trip and her less than perfect attire, and turns a singed fan to point at the nearest person. If that person is a Mobius veteran, they're likely to be greeted by name, but otherwise:

"Thou Traveler, I recognize thee not. Prithee, how long have I been in that tedious place?"

46
At first, Yoshimune just watches with interest and appreciation. She's available to talk to, but her focus is on all the men showing off their virility. Traveling has many things to recommend it, after all, and this is one of them.

But she sees no reason why she can't prove her own skills, and given a lull in the action, strides forward. "I wish to join in thy sport! What challenge thou put to me, I will take it up."

The first response is stunned silence. The native Romans obviously do not know what to make of this small, foreign woman who's eagerly demanding to participate. Someone should probably stop her before there's scandal. Or take her up on her offer; Yoshimune would much prefer that option.

47: version 1
Yoshimune looks around at the walls with great curiosity at first, once her eyes are adjusted. She obviously finds the dioramas quite entertaining. While she does so, her boatmate will get a chance to look her over. She's a small Japanese woman, hair swept-up, and then a thick lock of it bound in cloth hanging down her back, and in a simple cotton kimono and uchikake. She has a fan casually held in her hands and she sits up very straight. Her perusal of the surroundings done, she finally turns and gives her boatmate a look-over and a faint smile.

"'Twould seem meant to inspire the passions, but 'tis fairly overdone and gaudy. Still, I must confess the view can be pleasing, and the materials most vexing. Prithee, of what is this boat even made?"

47: version 2 (because Yoshimune can and will proposition suitably rough and virile men)
For the first moment or two, Yoshimune looks at the surroundings, smile going very intrigued at the dioramas. But then her attention goes to her boat-mate, and her smile goes saucy while she gives him a thorough look-over. While she does so, her boatmate will get a chance to look her over. She's a small Japanese woman, hair swept-up, and then a thick lock of it bound in cloth hanging down her back, and in a simple cotton kimono and uchikake. She has a fan casually held in her hands and she sits up very straight. The fan goes up and she taps it to her lips once.

"'Twould seem meant to inspire the passions, but the gaudy display doth dampen them. Still, I must confess that this sight before me is most pleasing to mine eyes. Why should we resist such a call, indeed?"

With that she leans forward, fully intent on getting better acquainted.

#47

Taleen was a little unnerved when she first opened her eyes that it was dark, the sounds of water moving around her told her she was in some sort of river cave. When her eyes adjusted, a little more she saw that she was in some sort of boat and that there was someone else with her...

That was when the lights came on, blinding her for a moment causing her to actually cry out. "Stupid magic." She sat back on her side of the boat waiting, again, for her eyes to adjust. And what is that smell? Too thick with unnatural flowers." Yeah someone is not liking this one bit.

#48

She didn't remember falling asleep in a bed. If anything she had been in the woods near Solace, and had made camp near one of the great Vallenwoods. Waking lying on a bed, even if it had the nice warm earthy scent of the roots she had lain her bedroll for the night, the gentle swaying had her realize she wasn't where she was supposed to be.

Peeking out and seeing no ground she stayed low to the bed growling low. "What dark magic is this?" What was more troubling is how she could sleep through being moved. The contraption holding her aloft looked about as safe as any tinker gnome contraption, which made her more wary. "I was nowhere near the Gnomes... Whomever's behind this I demand to know what reason there is for this!" Hey, it could work right?

Edited 2017-03-25 02:31 (UTC)

47

[Nira stares at the person sitting across from her in the cafe, staring at the list of questions. She has a scowl on her face, and is tapping her fingers on the table. She also has a green bandanna tied around her neck, covering up most of her scars. People keep asking, and it gets annoying.]

They do realize I'm married, right?

48

[Oh crap, flying. This is one fear Nira's never really gotten over. So she'll be lying flat on her back, staring pointedly up at the sky, only turning her head occasionally to see the people beside her-until she sees someone walking or flying through the air.]

What the heck? How are you doing that?

-47-

Kohaku leans back in their seat on the boat, legs kicked up on the bow, eyes closed. The darkness held no secrets from them, but they kind of wish it did. Stupid supercharged senses meant they could read out every sordid detail on the walls of the tunnel.

Oddly, Kohaku's side is almost completely bare of imagery. A few stylized childhood crushes, but beyond that...just blank wall.

"I hope you don't mind if I just take a nap? Wake me up when this is less a waste of my time."

-49-

Kohaku stood in the airlock, nervously. On one hand, the concept of being surrounded by hard vacuum that could killer them in seconds were it not for a few thin layers of space suit was fairly unnerving. On the other hand, what kind of person could be offered the chance to walk around in freaking outer space and say "Nah, I'd rather hang out on this semi-barren ball of rock down below me"?

They'd triple checked every step of putting the suit on, but they were still unnerved.

"I'm not, like, gonna get sucked out into space when the door opens, am I? Should I be holding on to something? I'm gonna hold on to something."

Awkwardly, the only other thing to hold on to in arm's reach right now is the other person in here. Kohaku hesitated in just grabbing onto another person just long enough for the outer door to open and all the air to get sucked into space.

-46-

Kohaku adjusted their toga self-consciously and eyed the games the men were playing. They could sort of pass for a kind of effeminate boy. Maybe they could get away with getting in there and showing all these dudes a thing or two.

They quietly slipped on to the one side of the ball game. Their rather slim figure got a few odd glances, but they insisted that they were a boy. Maybe some good exercise would put some meat on their bones, some of the more traditionally minded men grumbled.

Then the game started, and Kohaku was a sight to behold in motion. The normally reserved youth leaped into motion with frankly unbelievable grace and precision. They weren't really much faster than anyone else, but they seemed to almost react to things before they happened, and somehow always could pick out that tiny weak spot in the opposing team's formation that just BARELY had room to slip through.

#48

The Doctor woke on his bed. His bed from Darillium. With no River in sight. He was disorientated for a minute until he realised what was going on around him. Ah, another world again. What was expected to learn this time? Or perhaps teach?

There was no ground to speak of, so he stood on the bed and started to jump around. If anyone were to ask what he was doing, his reply would be simple.

"Gravity Test."

#49

The Doctor grimaced at the space suit he was given. "Oh, you have got to be kidding! You want me to go out in the vacuum of space in this primitive thing?"

Jason's got no idea he can fly, but he's not about to let that stop him. He's drifting parallel to another balloon, one that's got a Traveler and a free-standing door on it, and he's curious about both.

"Hey!" he shouts, trying to get their attention, and nods when they look over. "Yeah! You uh, you might want to hang on to something."

It's easily thirty feet between beds, but he gets a two-step start before he jumps, pinwheeling through the air, looking more like he was fired out of a catapult than like a normal human leap, indenting the mattress, slamming into the doorframe, and setting the bed to swaying violently as he lands on it, laughing and trying to catch his breath.

47

It's the dioramas that draw Allura's gaze, as the only points of actual light here in the darkness of the cave. At first, she leans out to get a closer look, bracing herself carefully against the slick sides of the boat so that she doesn't tumble into the liquid below - liquid that most assuredly isn't water, because water doesn't fizz and pop like that, or smell half so strongly, and while she's fairly certain it probably isn't harmful, she'd rather not find out by falling into it. It takes a moment for the images to process, for the disconnected scenes to knit together enough for the theme to form out of the whole, and then she's very glad of the darkness within the tunnel, because her cheeks flame red, and she jerks away from the side of the boat and resituates herself staring firmly ahead.

Mostly.

She might sneak a few sidelong peeks now and then, because it's a very long boat ride, and the images are interesting when they're not startlingly explicit, and she doesn't know anyone enough to put a name to a face, so what's the harm?

48

Apologies to anyone who might be actually taking the balloon-beds as a chance to catch up on sleep, because from the next bed over, there's a very loud thud and a small explosion of pillows and blankets, rather as if someone's just dropped onto the bed from a significant height.

Exactly as if someone's just dropped onto the bed from a significant height, in fact.

It's a moment before Allura emerges from beneath the pile of bedclothes, one hand tucking up a lock of hair threatening to slip free of its confinement as she glances around furitively, hoping against hope that somehow her landing had escaped notice. The Traveler who'd been kind enough to tell her that gravity doesn't work in quite the usual way had neglected to mention that losing her concentration would result in a very long fall, and the result is somewhat embarrassing.

And also fun. Given enough space to nerve herself up again, there's a good chance she'll make another attempt.

40

The slender immortali woman, her long white dress streaked with pollen from the fields, isn't quite a regular at the Vanity Fair, but she nevertheless navigates the lanes with an ease born of long practice, staying carefully away from the tents hosting sin-sellers and the temptations that lurk within. She pauses most frequently at the item sellers' tents, asking after this piece of jewelry or that knife or, once, a goblet the vendor swears is blessed to allow anyone who drinks from it to live an hour in their own past. He's evasive enough when questioned that she eventually passes it by, though only reluctantly.

At one of the fruit-seller's stalls, she stops to buy a small basket of pale plums. She picks one out and nibbles daintily at the flesh, and then in an apparent fit of whimsy, turns abruptly to offer a second to the nearest passer by.

Do you, oh Traveler, dare to take a gift from a stranger so near the gates of Hell?

-47-

Ah, Valentine's Day! When a young girl's fancy turns to sullen pouting and glaring at the menu for the fifth time, in case it will turn into an actual menu if she wills it to.

"I finally get to go to a fancy restaurant and there's not even any food? I can't believe this." She picks up the menu one last time before tossing it away. "Who's this Valentine guy, anyway? I have a bone to pick with him."

-48-

As she floats casually between the drifting balloons, Reimu tackles what's becoming an increasingly common and inscrutable mental challenge: Liminal Space Weirdness, or Outside World Weirdness?

On one hand, everything about this is weird and obviously magical. On the other hand, she did hear something about how humans in the outside world use huge things to fly around because they can't do it with magic. She always imagined they had wings, but what if they looked like this instead? Is this just how people get around out there?

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration! Maybe that's what's going on. Reimu swoops down to find the nearest occupied bed and ask the obvious question.

"Hey, is this one of those 'air mattress' things I've heard about?"

There's no sign from her expression that this is a joke.

47.

Whoever is stuck sitting next to Greirat, you have his sincerest condolences. He's not much to look at - a grimy man in shabby clothing and a strange hood that the Jaunt hasn't done much to change up. Hardly the most appealing sort of person to be paired with, and he knows it.

Cautiously and curiously, he eyes the tunnel around them as they drift slowly down the champagne river. His eyes drift across the scenes of romance, and linger ever-so-briefly on a diorama of an older man (dressed suspiciously like him) handing some sparkling trinket to a woman of similar age. He doesn't say anything about it.

Instead, he waits until the scene is past before he turns to face his boating companion.

"Do you think those dioramas are made of sweets too? I was thinking I might swim out to them, see if there's anything worth taking."

49.

Space is... a lot for Greirat to take in. He's always considered himself a simple man of simple origins - and while a part of him longs for something much greater, the idea of walking among the stars themselves is something he'd never even thought to dream of.

He's going to do it, of course. He'd be a fool to turn away from this opportunity, but it really is a lot to take in.

It had all been explained to him - that there's no air in space, and that he'd require a special suit to go outside the ship. And now that he's got his newly-scaled body into one, he's more than ready to go out there.

"How far do you think I'd have to drift to grab one of them?" He asks the person in the suit next to him, gesturing at the sea of stars just outside the airlock. "I've never stars so close before. To be honest, I'm tempted to try."

( #47 )

[ ooc: kitty is a kidnapping and rape victim, which is kind of referenced here and the reason for her panic. ]

The realization she's somewhere unfamiliar is almost instant, as is the paranoia and panic that creep into her thoughts. Her eyes opened and she sat straight up. Everything was dark. It was just like before, just like it had been with him. Without hesitation, she started to feel around for her bag, somewhere she had to have her singlestick or her switchblade or something. Her breaths were becoming rapid, and all she could do to not fall into full blown panic was to keep feeling around. Maybe she could find a weapon, maybe she could figure out where she was. She wasn't about to let any of this happen again, she couldn't let it happen again. She continued to feel around as her eyes became more adjusted to the dark. Was it him? Had he come for her again? Thoughts swirl around and she has to tell herself to focus, to do what Sherlock taught her. Instead, she tries to focus on the fact that wherever she is it feels... odd, it's also rocking. A boat? As if an answer to her question there is a flicker of low light. She was in a boat and she wasn't alone.

Kitty turned her attention to the person next to her. She didn't know them and she isn't sure if that's a good thing or not. Her bag definitely wasn't there, neither were either of her go to self-defense weapons. Maybe she'd have to look into getting something that would be more readily accessible.

"Hey," she moves so she's sitting on the back of her legs. "Wake up." Her voice is strong, maybe a bit harsh. There wasn't time to be nice though. Wait... was the boat a swan?!

( #49 )

There is a part of her that almost feels guilty for being so excited over this. She should be focusing on finding a way to getting back home. She should have been trying to get word to Sherlock or Watson. Instead she was in an airlock, wearing a space suit. She had never paid much attention to the stars, other than the occasional wish on them when she was a child. How could she not feel excited though, she was actually going to do a space walk.

She double checked her helmet, then her air supply. There was no harm in taking precautions. Kitty didn't smile much, but right now she was having a hard time not keeping the grin off her face. If only Sherlock and Watson were here with her. Watson would be full of awe and wonder and Sherlock, for once probably would be dumbstruck (not for long though).

After one more check, she took a deep breath and pressed the release for the air lock. Then she stepped out onto the stars.

47

If this is supposed to be a romantic ride, that knowledge fails at least one of the boat's occupants. It's not dark and gloomy for long once he awakens, a tiny marble of green light hissing into existence and left to glow with all the brightness of a flashlight in the air somewhere about the middle of the chocolate-swan-boat, whereupon investigation begins. All golden jewelry present and functioning, no injuries obvious aannnd..

… he's not alone.

The wall murals are utterly ignored in favor of leaning just enough to touch the other person in the boat and confirm they're actually breathing. If it's obvious they ARE alive he won't actually try to touch them.

"Hey."

If not, and they seem to be dead, well, that's what tipping someone into the river is for.

48

Sometimes things seem very much like a dream sequence. Like waking up in a balloon-propelled bed that was far more comfortable than anything he'd ever slept on before. So much so that for a very long time Broly's reluctant to leave it, content to lie where he is shrouded in warm blanket and only the dimmest idea that once there might have been something almost as warm and secure feeling for company. It's nice.

Eventually sleep wears off though, and he's still in the balloon bed. A bed he's now determined to take with him. As other beds float past he wraps himself in a blanket like it's a cloak, and steps right off the edge, content with knowing he can fly even if others can't.. grabs the side of the bed and begins towing it with him towards one of those distant doors, nudging other balloon beds out of his way as he goes.

Apparently he intends to try to take it with him. It's his, he's not leaving it behind if he has any say in the matter!

49

Space again.

Broly passes for human well enough, tail hidden and easily ignored; he might be on the tall side but he's definitely not an alien. Maybe this was the route home and nobody else knew it yet. Certainly it doesn't seem any different from what he's used to. Spaceships, aliens. The view of a planet in orbit instead of on the other side of its atmosphere.

A spacewalk isn't as thrilling to him as it is to others, but he's suited up anyway and found somewhere to actually attach himself so he won't float away and simply watch the planet, situated above instead of below thanks to how he's positioned himself. It wasn't a comfortable world but from here it burned in a glorious array of colors that made the surface appearance seem dull in comparison; whites so sharp they could cut like a razor, swirls of blue so intense they could be a gas flame instead of lakes and rivers, patches of green so livid it was as if one could reach out and touch it and stain everything with its verdant hue.

He wondered what it would look like as an asteroid belt. "Are you staying aboard the ship or just getting a last look?"

If he's going to have company, he might as well talk to them.

#47

It is dark. It is dark, but it is not too dark for him to see. He is very good at seeing things in the dark. He can even track things in the dark. He is a very good tracker. This dark will not stop him from tracking things that need tracking!

But he does not know where he is. It is dark, and it is strange. There are no familiar smells. That is not good.

But oh! Oh! There is someone sitting beside him! That is very good! He will sniff them and then he will say hi.

Sniff, sniff.

"Hi there!"

#48

This is a very nice bed. It is very comfortable. He will stretch and yawn and then he will go back to sleep....

... He is awake again! This is still a very nice bed. He likes this bed. But it is in a strange place. He does not know where he is. He will stand up, and he will look around, and he will see if he can find out where he is.

Oh! He is up very high! He is in a bed, and the bed is very high.

"I do not want to be up high."

How can he stop being up high? Oh, oh! He will ask that person there!

"Can you help me? I do not want to be up high."

What little can be seen of this man's hooded face reveals that he is uncomfortable with this situation. Highly uncomfortable.

He sits at a small table in the cafe, perched on the edge of a dainty white-chocolate chair that looks far from strong enough to bear his weight. His folded arms and stiff posture don't lend a welcoming air. Nor does the well-used tomahawk at his side, or the bow slung on his back. But anyone who joins him will find that he's not unfriendly; he's just highly, highly uncomfortable.

"I do not understand this 'Group Date cafe'."

After sitting on the bed she woke up on for a while, Laura decides to move and look around. To find out where she is, to see if she can find anyone she knows, and to see if she can acquire food somewhere around here.

Her first few attempts at moving around go well as she jumps from bed to bed, caring little if there is someone already on a bed as long as they don't look like they'll attack upon her landing on there.

They stop going well when she tries to use a balloon as a landing spot, starts sliding down the side of it and digs her claws into it to stop her downwards movement.

It goes as poorly as you might expect, and there is a short surprised shout when girl, bed and balloon go down.

26
This... isn't the Hedge. It can't be, surely. Not with the sheer amounts of metal in the air, the tang of static making his short fur crackle gently under his Mask. To any observers, he looks normal enough for a newbie Traveller - crouching down to poke the microphone flowers, seeing if he can't pick one (and ripping one up violently to discover that, no, you can't), dragging one of the speakers over to see what kind of experiments he can pull with the audio feedback mess.

But at some point, he stops, and stares at the greenscreen television feeds. And stares. And watches as a very familiar group of six, not quite human and with very glazed expressions, performing what is very obviously a theatre production. The tip of his tail, hidden under his Mask, twitches, and he reaches one hand out to rest on the screen, his own expression lost, confused. Longing.

48
Nope no nope nah no thanks nope.

Gil's immediate response to suddenly appearing on a floating bed is to snarl wildly, not even a rational response as much as a very severe fuck this vibrating through every particle of his being. He stands on all fours on the bed - in any other situation it would be a perfect bed for him, a double with a clawed-up blanket, feathers leaking and almost irresistably soft - but here and now when he's suddenly floating over empty space; through his Mask, the pose makes little sense for a human to take, balanced on the tips of his fingers and toes as he's spread out like a terrified animal, and he's looking around with a very frantic energy to his movements. Please, someone, help.

Edited 2017-05-17 14:20 (UTC)

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Hoshigaki Kisame | Naruto | AU + PG + mobius vet. (full permission for knowing his canon)

Orion Kislev | OC

Hare Becile | Steam Powered Giraffe OC

Hiroshi | Ao Oni