xistentiaooc | Test Drive Meme #8 (NSFW)

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#tdm

Test Drive Meme #8 (NSFW)

Test Drive Meme #8

I believe in the death of tomorrow

CRASH LANDING

Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.

And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around, almost at odds with the layer of thick snow over everything.

Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.

Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here^[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.

When you get a second to breathe, maybe you'll see it. The snowy forest across the sand. Beyond that, the glint of a faraway city.

Dinner with a Succubus (NSFW)

Your first dinner party in Xistentia^[2] is a sumptuous and luxurious dinner that takes place at the private residence of one of the natives.

As you step in, the first thing you notice is the scent of indigenous flowers mingled with the floating traces of savory and sweet from the elaborate buffet set up on the side. Treats from around the Multiverse.

However, sectioned off from these public areas, there are spaces reserved for sexual activity. It's not so surprising, when you remember that the lights outisde, the power behind the city itself, runs off human emotional interaction— and desire is a powerful emotion indeed. These rooms feature every conceivable surface you might want to tangle on, from silk to lacquered desks, to rubber.

Chests hold sundry toys and other equipment. Rooms have beds sized comfortably from anywhere from one to five people, and there are peepholes. Everything is marked with painted symbols in a language that is known to no one person, but somehow universally comprehensible.

NETWORK

Xistentia now has its own 'friending app.' You can use it to make connections with new people! But beware, your daemon may well post without your permission, and things could get pretty embarrassing.

F.A.T.E.S. thought it was a pretty good pun: Synchr. Get it? Like sinker? Hook, line, and?

TEMPLATE
Select and copy the code below, paste into your entry. (The font is tiny for ease of copying!)

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<div style="width: 275px; height: 275px; border: 5px solid #b7d1ae; border-radius: 170px; padding: 0px; margin: 15px auto"><div style="background: url('http://i.imgur.com/i0hSO7K.gif'); background-size: cover; width: 225px; height: 225px; border-radius: 180px; padding: 25px; background-position: center;"><div style="background: url('** YOUR PROFILE PICTURE URL HERE **'); background-size: auto 220px; border-radius: 130px; width: 223px; height: 223px; padding-top: 223px; border: 1px dotted #000"></div></div></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial Narrow, sans serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; color: #000;"><b>NAME</b> ▐ AGE</div>

<div style="height: 120px; background: url('https://i.imgur.com/m5GzmXX.png'); overflow-y: auto; margin: 5px auto; border-radius: 6px; padding: 10px">
</raw-code>** INSERT YOUR PROFILE CODE HERE **

<raw-code></div></div>

<div style="clear: both"></div></div>
<br />
<center><table><tr><td style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span> </td><td style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center"><big><big><big><b>YES</big></big></big></b><br />
<textarea><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span></textarea></td><td style="text-align: center"><big><big><big><b>NO</big></big></big></b><br />
<textarea><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span></textarea></td></tr></table></center></center></raw-code>

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

hells yeah

Footnotes

Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
If you decide to join the game, this party may be patched over into the sex-themed Gala detailed in the announcement. The IC log is already up, but friends-locked!

Threaded | Flat

𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 ➨

[ at first, being torn away from his talímenios was his biggest concern. he's been through portals before, been separated from his lover before, but never quite like this. not with rhiminee falling down around him. but now he's waking up on a beach, feeling like he's been killed ( again ) and groping around him for his sword and black radley bow. when he finds his weapons, he staggers up to his feet and tries to get his bearings. it's bright, much like the sunlight at watermead but there's also smoke in the air. turning on the spot, he sees someone approaching. his nightrunner instincts kick in and he makes himself seem as unassuming as possible, which isn't that hard given his youthful looks and his bright blue eyes. he seems like an ordinary lost young man, if a bit out of place and time.

his clothes, while practically new, are a little worse for wear. still, it's clear from the fabric of his breeches and his embroidered coat that he's a member of nobility of some sort. he is, a baron even, but as far as he's concerned, right now he's just alec, a young man in need of assistance. ]

Excuse me! Excuse me, but... where am I?

𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗯𝘂𝘀 ➨

[ after his rather uncomfortable arrival, alec figures the best way to learn more about the area is to do what he's often done with his lover, seregil: schmooze with the rich. he's dressed in the clothes he arrived in because he has yet to find a change of clothing, but as soon as he arrives to the party, he discards his cloak. then, with charm and grace, he begins mingling with the other party goers, comfortable in the setting despite being new to xistentia.

eventually, he'll realize the purpose of the party and while it causes some bit of blushing to color his cheeks, this too is familiar. not unlike carousing on mourning night in rhiminee. he remembers myrichia, the lovely courtesan who'd once taught him the ways of love making, but more importantly, he thinks of his talímenios, seregil, wondering what has become of him.

there's no time to dwell on where his love might be, however. grabbing a drink off a nearby offered platter, he begins sipping it before turning to the person next to him. ]

Are there parties like this often? Ah- Sorry, I should introduce myself. [ he bows politely. ] Baron Alec í Amasa of Mirrormoon, at your service.

𝗻𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 ➨

synchr

Alec í Amasa ▐ 22

Baron of Mirror Moon
Talímenios of Baron Seregil í Korit
And yes, I am ya'shel.

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

Edited 2018-01-14 01:01 (UTC)

CRASH LANDING

[ There's few uniquely traumatizing experiences one can face that seem to be making an effort to compete with one another, at least where Aoba is concerned. There's the fact he first woke up without a memory of why or how he arrived on a space station far from his home, a home he'd never left once in his whole life. An island off mainland Japan called Midorijima. And some time after this conscription into some kind of bizarre service, the worse catastrophe that could happen to a space station did -- an attack that came fast and furious, shredding the adult playground and giving it's denizens something else to worry about other than if the Pleasure dome had anything new today in the few minutes of life that remained.

Aoba was sent hurtling through a torn open airlock into what he hoped would be a numbing end before he died due to depressurization, lack of air... heat... but instead he was sucked out through another tear in space and time and evacuated - purposefully or accidentally - into another scene of chaos.

Aoba crawls through soggy, melting snow as he slides unsteadily to his feet, trembling with adrenaline steeped in his blood with no need for the bounty of nervous energy, his fingers cold and trembling as he stares dumbly at an explosion that erupts not far from him, his reactions oddly sluggish.

He thinks maybe this is shock, and confirms a moment later when he doubles over and dry-heaves onto the slushy surface beneath him. The coughing seems to chase away some of the fog that settled over him, allowing him to be more present, enough to reach out for the nearest shape in the snow and pull them out of it. ]

Hey! Are you okay?

DINNER WITH A SUCCUBUS (NSFW)

Mmh! Mm...! [ Aoba's appetite seems to show no signs of stopping anytime soon. He's pushing one skewer into his mouth after another, cleaning them entirely in one bite as he happily hums at the taste, dips them into some new sauce and then chews contentedly. Despite having helped himself to numerous plates of food and his skinny stature, he's still eating! Just what kind of world did he come from, anyway? Some kind of foodie desert? ]

A meal after someone's slept is really delicious. I think a contender is 'a meal after one's fallen literally into a new world.

[ Aoba's hazel eyes drop to the plate between them. He looks hungry despite how much he's eaten so far. ]

...Um. Are you going to eat that?

NETWORK

synchr

AOBA SERAGAKI ▐ 23

I'm not sure why I'm here
but I guess that's something we're going to figure out, so let's explore this multiverse together, okay?

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

( crash landing )

[ how tiresome. torn away from his research to be brought to a place like this. at least there are lots of new specimens to observe, which he does easily on the beach. so many humans in one place. perhaps there could be merit to being here after all. iwamine shuu tugs his briefcase to examine the first confused human, speaking in a clipped clinical tone. ]

Now. Where does it hurt?

( dinner is served )

[ shuu flaps his wings as he settles himself on the chair. the sheer volume of food has taken shuu by surprise. clearly humans have a far more varied and delicate palate. he isn't interested himself, but he watches everyone dispassionately. when someone coughs or has an adverse reaction, he immediately leans over to ask. ]

Are you dying?

( network )

How did humans survive this long?

( wildcard! )

i. crash landing
[Dave has lived in surprising peace for the past few months, but he's always on his toes. For good reason, considering his life is a never-ending marathon of relentless bullshit.

As he last recalls, he'd been meandering uselessly around Earth C when he'd missed a step somewhere. Now, missing a step on the way down the stairs usually feels like you're falling through dimensions, but the prickling, nauseating feeling overstays its welcome. Dave feels intensely uncomfortable, and what amounts to about thirty seconds feels like about 30 years of discomfort before it relents and he feels himself fall again.

Suddenly, the view below him is a sandy beach and not a flight of stairs. That sandy beach is rapidly approaching and before he knows it, his face is colliding with it. Dave falls flat on his front, legs kicking up behind him from the momentum before they drop in a defeated manner.

He's not dead, but he's not moving.]

ii. dinner
[It's been a long time since Dave has had food of this quality before. A bunch of young adults who left home at around 13 are not the best chefs, but damn do they try. At least some of them do, Dave is still trying to gain the finesse it takes not to burn toast.

He's trying not to look too ridiculously eager, but he can't help himself.]

This chicken. [Dave says, extending the leg out, talking to nobody in particular.] This.. actually, I don't even know if it's chicken. Actually I don't know if I even remember what real chicken tastes like. But whatever intergalactic Colonel was responsible for this has divine powers or some shit.

[Dave helps himself to another bite, seemingly happy to talk to himself like he's not at a party.

He still has a plate of food in his hand when he starts to peer around the areas. He's beginning to realise he probably shouldn't be here with a hefty plate of food. He feels like Gordon Ramsey just stumbled into a frat party, and now he can't remember where he came from. He shuffles awkwardly around, holding the plate of food like it gives him a sense of purpose.]

iii. network

synchr

dave strider ▐ 19

i picked it because it was ugly not out of self reflection

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-s

crash.

( it wasn't so bad at first - the thought of being somewhere else than where he was, torn apart from a life he used to know and brought to a new one where he knows nothing. the idea of adventure has always spoiled taste in the root of his mouth, but the similar idea of renewal, starting over, new beginnings ... nicky supposes he likes that. to an extent, maybe, as long as he doesn't have to put that much effort forward, lest things go south. he can't figure out the science behind it, being in one place and then another, but he's not an especially smart person - he imagines someone back home could've figured it out, how he came to be here, and what he managed to do wrong.

after a little while, though, the novelty of the situations wears on him. he misses home, and his father's stifling hugs, and the sights of dragons in the sky, batting their heavy and haughty wings, making the trees bristle and sing for the splendor of the show. when he looks up now, there's only fire in the sky - and a hundred voices yelling, screaming, running for help. nicky finds himself joining them. )

Ampere?! ( he manages to help himself out of the water, rustic clothes weighing down his slender form, but evidently not stopping him in his rampage - he yells louder, towards the sea, ) Amp!

dinner.

( nicky has never lived a life of luxury, but he always thought he would make a good prince, not for any particular reason other than the fact that he thought it'd be nice, putting aside the politics. bottomless wallets and fancy clothes and pretty boys and prettier girls, that sort of thing. in reality, he feels awkward under the stress of so much presumed wealth, nervously fiddling with his shirt where it meets his hips, thinking he might be under dressed, and people might be looking at him, and. if he were a prince it wouldn't be nearly such a big deal, he guesses.

he feels like he's never seen so much food in his life before, at least none that look so ... pretty? colorful and cooked, a wide array of snacks to choose from. he finds himself wanting to stick his hands in every dish, and he makes his plans to do so in a sly and sneaky way, sampling and waiting, going back for more and acting like it's his first plate. sneaky sneaky. he's not adverse to conversation, and even makes attempts starting up himself, holding out something weird and foreign looking. ) Have you tried the, um. The this thing? It's good.

( eventually you can find him in the back rooms, anxiously curious, but not with a partner. he tries to wait for the hallway to clear out before sliding one of the peepholes open - and very quickly he shuts it again, a blush spreading up to his ears, eyes parted wide open. )

Yikes. Wow. Okay. Yikes, yikes.

synchr.

synchr

nicky day ▐ 18

Would you believe it, he's single?????? date me

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

Edited 2018-01-14 16:47 (UTC)

CRASH! BANG! BOOM!!
[ As soon as the city hears of another crash, a regular migration of some citizens rush to help or rush to grab anything usable from the wreckage. John is a little bit of both. If there's no immediate emergency and no one needs John's jaws of life to pry an exit from the wreckage, his focus narrows down to what he can salvage. Some days it's tedious, fruitless work. That suits him just fine. Better than twiddling his thumbs.

From atop the ship that's more akin to a crushed beehive, his arms are already elbow deep in its innards. The metal hull is pulled apart like construction paper under his super human strength. But what looks like a promisingly intact circuit board is impeded by the structural rigging surrounding the hive. So he puts a foot to it, stomping down on the hull to make space and bend load-bearing construction. The ruckus of every heavy bang can probably be heard by everyone in the vicinity—And so can his sudden yell.

Load-bearing construction isn't named just for shits and gigs. The structure below him shudders, breaking inward and pulling John down with it. And being heavier than a normal man, he hits the shore like a sack of potatoes. Kuh-thud. A dust up of sand showers him like on a Sunday morning cartoon. ]

DAEMON-CRAFTED SYNCHR

synchr

JOHN GRIMM ▐ 26

He's got no refractory period, laaadiees~! And gents?

Who can say. Find out!

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

crash landing.

( It's not so much of a crash as it is a saunter onto the beach.

A drunken saunter. A very staggered and jerky saunter. But a saunter, nonetheless.

Cardan steps out on the beach, crown pushing down the dark curls against his pale skin. A bottle of wine is loose in one hand. He eyes the beach, not quite trusting his sight in his drunken haze. After taking a few more steps onto the snowy beach, he raises an eyebrow at the bottle in his hand.

Either his drunken stupor has really created up an interesting plot that he's not wholly against, or this is reality.

He's still not completely against it.

He tilts his head back and downs another heavy swig before starting off down the beach. )

This place better have a bed at least. ( He mutters as his boots imprint the sand and snow with every step. )

dinner with a succubus.

( A grand dinner full of debauchery and alcohol is exactly the kind of place Cardan would prefer to be than out doing anything that might be misconstrued as helpful. When he hears of the event, he's one of the first few to arrive. He's the first to be blitzed off his ass, though. It's almost a race to try to beat him to drunkenness.

He sits at a far end of the table, well aware that he makes very poor companionship right now. He doesn't really care. He's not out to help keep the city afloat, and in fact seems to curve away from anything that might have iron in it. No, he's simply here to indulge.

Which he does. Bottle after bottle, laying back on pillows and no longer eating everything in sight. )

It's no fae revelry. ( He remarks to no one in particular. ) But it'll do in a pinch.

Is there more wine? ( This time he does address whoever is closest, raising his head only to ask the question. He lilts his head to the side with the curiosity, dark eyes heavy with drink and boredom. )

synchr.

synchr

CARDAN ▐ --

It's impolite to ask one's age.

What do you really need to know? You're either interested, or you're not. Don't waste my time.

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

( CRASH LANDING. )

[ honestly, after almost being buried alive, falling face first into the snow isn’t that disturbing. he’s disorientated. his lungs are heaving, his throat and nose burn from choking on salt water. the only body of water anywhere close to the bridge is sweetwater river but he knows for a fact after sticky summers and freezing winters that there isn’t any resemblance to the ocean there. adrenaline picks him up and puts him back on his feet, has his head spinning when he looks around at the wreckage.

it doesn’t make any sense - being in riverdale one second and being somewhere completely different the next.

as much as he wants to struggle with the confusion, he’s pushed forward by the last thing he remembers. his mouth is open, calling out a name before he knows whether or not he can even trust his own voice. ] Betty.

[ the black hood, an open grave, betty being forced to make yet another impossible choice. he doesn’t give much thought to the way his wet jeans stick to his skin, or how hard he’s shivering. ] Betty!

[ he ignores self-preservation and starts for the nearest piece of wreckage. his only real concern about the smoke and the fire isn’t that he’s going to burn his hands or inhale too much of it. archie’s hoping like hell that his friend isn’t trapped out here somewhere. ] Hey, is anybody in there? Can you hear me?

( DINNER WITH A SUCCUBUS. )

[ calling it surreal is probably the understatement of the century.

when the smoke clears and the dust settles, he finds himself at an exclusive party, the likes of which he imagines happen all the time in new york. the first thing he notices ( beyond the romantic lighting ) is the distinctly floral aroma in the air. he's not dressed for an elite party, certainly not in a dark henley shirt, jeans, and sneakers. and yet, the more he wanders around, the more he begins to suspect that he's actually overdressed rather than the opposite. there's no need for a detective to swoop in and put the pieces together, not once he starts making the rounds and walks into something he's not one-hundred percent sure he should be watching.

the layers he's wearing are weighing down on him and he can't say if it's because of the heat in the room, or in his cheeks. he knows better than to look through a peephole but after a glance around to ensure that he isn't being observed, he does. the pull of curiosity's too strong to resist.

when he pulls away, there's one of two options: 1) he slips away unnoticed and plops down on a seat next to someone to cool off back in a public space, or 2) he's caught in the act with a sheepish grin, shame ( desire ) coloring his face. either way, he shrugs dismissively. ] Now I know what's behind door number one.

( SYNCHR )

synchr

archie andrews ▐ 16

i'm a song-writer, i play varsity football, and idk what i wouldn't do for a scooby snack.

✓ ✕
YES
✓ NO
✕

A. CRASH LANDING

[ This is wrong. It's not just the fact that it's a beach, covered in snow, that Marcos has never seen before. It's also that he'd been with John and Clarice, and he'd gone through Clarice's own portal, and now neither of them are here and he's alone. Breathless, Marcos scans the area.

Something explodes above him. He jumps, and ducks, as something burning and heavy hits the sand beside him. Marcos backs off with wide eyes, staring at it, and then he starts to run as more pieces start to land. ]

John! Clarice?!

[ His shouts are drowned out by more crashes, one of which sends him flying and landing hard on the sand again. He flips onto his back just in time to see another piece heading straight for him. On instinct, he lifts his hands and two blinding beams of light shoot from his hands to carve the debris in half. The two shards fall safely to either side of him.

This is crazy. He's back on his feet at once, running for the trees in the distance, until he realizes that he's not
alone. He can hear other people here, people calling out for help beneath the wreckage. And it's still falling. ]

Mierda. [ He mutters under his breath, and changes direction. Seeing someone trapped, he lifts his hands again. This time he's more precise, sending golden lasers from each fingertip to cut the metal apart. ]

Hang on! Don't move, I got you! You all right?

[ The piece falls apart a second later, freeing the person. Marcos' power shuts off and he holds out his hand to help them up. ]

We gotta go.

B. DEN OF INIQUITY

[ Marcos isn't at the dinner party for five minutes before he knows it's not for him. Fancy formal settings don't do it for him anyway, and he wouldn't even have considered it if it didn't seem like the best way to meet people.
The bottom line is that he needs to know who's here, needs to get a feel for who his allies might end up being. If you want people on your side - the right people - you need to know who you're dealing with.

He's already passed by two rooms full of strangers having sex. It's already clear there are more. This is not the place for him.

Tense and uncomfortable, he ignores as much as that as he can and sticks to safe zones. In the house's defence,
the food is really good. Better than Marcos has had for a long time. Some of it has already found its way into his pockets.
He has a plate in his hand, and he's quick to snag a passing glass of wine from a tray. Maybe not all indulgences are against his principles. He takes his stash outside onto a balcony, which seems safer than exploring any more of the rooms, and he settles by to people-watch. His shabby jeans, brown jacket and old henley are completely out of place in this scene, and his expression doesn't do anything to make him seem more like he belongs. He knows he has to make some kind of effort,
though. A sip of wine fortifies him before he turns to the next person hiding out here. ]

So they're serious when they call themselves succubi here. It just looked like an art gallery. I didn't expect...this.

C. SYNCHR

synchr

Marcos Diaz ▐ 25

I'm not interested in a war, I'm just looking to get back home. If you're on that page let me know, maybe we can help each other.
Friends of mine should get in touch. You know who you are.

✓ ✕
YES
✓ NO
✕

option 1: party

'Fascinating,' Ignacio thought to himself as he observed those who attended the party. He stood, refined in a black tailored suit and his curled hair slicked back. He felt as though he was a hunter in situations such as this, but instead of going for jugulars he was assessing weaknesses in those who blindly served F.A.T.E.S.

It was sad, really, how many of them acted as though they had it all figured out. The false confidence of survivors who had no true leader, grasping at technological bread crumbs tossed at them by a metaphorical god. Ignacio began to idly twist his ring with his thumb, while his other hand gripped the stem of his wine glass. His kingdom for someone intelligent to talk to, he felt dreadfully lonely.

"You there," he addressed the one who stood by the window, his voice smooth with a Spanish accent. "Please, tell me you are not human. I have been aching for a civilized conversation all night."

option 2: network

synchr

Ignacio ▐ ∞

Vampire Lord of Spain. I have traveled the world many times over, and will traverse it again once it is rightfully restored. I am as passionate as I am handsome as I am confident as I am a pain in the ass.

I do not dally with cattle. If you are human do not waste my time, I have no interest.

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ-)ノ)
¿Qué sabes del amor?

✓ ✕
YES
✓ NO
✕

Edited 2018-01-23 09:56 (UTC)

CRASH LANDING

[ Logan wakes up with wide eyes and a mouth open for gasping.

He'd been shot in the head. That's the last thing he remembers, both in mind and body (his mind builds the memory, his body forces his hand to reach up and touch where the bullet ought to be). There's a smear of blood on his skin where he was hit, but besides that, no trace of anything. His body's regenerated perfectly.

But rather than waking in a military prison, he sees -- ]

What the fucking hell.

[ Fire and metal parts and snow on a beach. Logan sits up, groaning a little as he fixes the cricks in his neck with tilts of his head. He gets to his feet, breaths coming a little heavy, and then walks through the smoke, caring little for the tears it brings to his eyes or the suffocating sense his lungs adopt.

His first instinct is listening for people. Should he hear some cry of help he'll certainly go to collect them (probably with some use of his claws), and if he sees someone in a relatively safe position, he'll call them out. Logan has two objectives: 1) save those in need; and 2) figure out what the fuck is happening. ]

SYNCHR

synchr

LOGAN ▐ N/A

I don't age

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

dinner with a succubus

[ nothing about this place is the kind of thing dani is used to, but this party at least reminds her of some of the parties she's gone to in new york — the kind her father could never know she's gone to, the kind the gossip mags would have a field day with if they found out about it. dani's never cared much about her reputation, but she's been aware of it.

here, no one knows her, but people will get to know her. she has no reputation yet. it's both freeing and odd, but for the evening, she puts it out of her mind. whatever else is going on, her father isn't here. so she samples some of the food and more of the drinks and lets herself go from tipsy to pleasantly drunk, smiling at anyone who might catch her eye.

at some point, she's inspecting toys, lifting a vibrator and turning it on, letting out a pleased laugh when it hums loudly in the room. if someone is standing near her, especially if it's someone handsome, she'll let the smile linger on her lips. ] Want to help me test this out?

network

synchr

DANI ▐ 22

new here. anyone interested in showing me around?

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

crash landing

[Something dark and sinuous streaks across the sky, dissolving into grains of sand as it goes, and one odd thin fellow is falling out of the sky, having lost his ride. Yelling all the way down, he slams facefirst into a snowdrift, and recovers far too quickly. He's tall, he's grey, he's wearing a black cloak like a second skin, he has no damn eyebrows, and he should have had a few broken bones from that, not just a bit of a stagger. He's pointing at the sky and screaming to no one:]

Get back here right this instant or when I get my hands on you--

[Oh. Plane crash. It's his lucky night. Theirs, not so much, but what's an intangible Boogeyman to do? Can't drag victims out of the fire when you can't touch them, can you? No one will even know he's here.]

[He steps into the shadows, only to reappear on top of one of the few hunks of metal not on fire. Curious, there isn't quite as much fear in the air as he expected... and no sirens in the distance. Is no one coming to help?]

synchr

synchr

PITCH ▐ xxx

Please go the fuck to sleep.

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

dinner;
[ when all is said and done, it's going to take a lot more than randomly stepping through what seemed to be a tear in time to stop Veronica Lodge from enjoying a fancy dinner party. she won't lie and say she's not a little bit shaken from it, because what the actual hell? -- but now that she's here? what the hell, right? the atmosphere of this little soiree is so strange, but oddly familiar for someone who ended up at a lot of insane parties back in New York. she's able to switch gears and make the best of things pretty quick.

she's all too relaxed in this setting, social yet still a little intimidating as well, perhaps, maybe just from how well she's handling all this. the confidence. she's wearing her pearls and a smile and she's not really slowing down for anyone.

well, maybe someone. maybe you? she looks very serious as she scans over the buffet table, an empty dish in hand ]

I'm torn - do I make myself a dinner plate, or skip right to dessert? I'm too tempted by everything on this table right now.

[ she's trusting you to help her make this very important decision ]

sexy room wandering;
[ because of course she's wandering around trying to figure out what's going on behind closed doors. she's heard a few things, both literally from out in the hallways and from people talking, but she wants to see for herself. she sort of has to see for herself, too curious for her own good.

so basically I'm just putting this starter prompt here for some silly awkward first encounters, not so much the sexytimes. Ronnie's got a boyfriend! well. she's working on winning back said boyfriend. right. either way!! first meetings with sex noises as the background music. fun, right? ah? ]

synchr;

synchr

Veronica Lodge ▐ 16

I love classic films, dance-offs, and well placed literary references. Let's grab a shake at Pop's and see where things go from there. You'll know pretty quick if our new friendship is meant to be or if we're destined to part ways at the start- I'm not great at subtle.

✓	✕
YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>

Edited 2018-02-04 02:41 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

alec í amasa of kerry ▎nightrunner series

Aoba Seragaki | DRAMAtical Murder

iwamine shuu | hatoful boyfriend

dave strider | homestuck

nicholas day, original

REAPER | DOOM

Cardan | The Cruelest Prince ( spoilers inside )

archie andrews » riverdale