❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets

[natha]

You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready? THE DESCENT     All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding. The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND     The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature. Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME     I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time. II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL     I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed). Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION     I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from. Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES     An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST. As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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uss terrible igloo // closed

[willrevile]

[ If there's one thing you learn in survival training, it's that exhausting yourself is just as deadly – if not more so – than any threat that might be looming out there, be it foe or climate. And so at a point that will eventually be marked down as just over halfway through the journey, three Starfleet officers find themselves in an ice-packed shelter dug into the hard snow, illuminated with a small pin light.

Jim's pushed off his hood and dragged off his cap and goggles, freeing his sweaty, gross hair and running his fingers through it to try and return blood flow to his chilled scalp. ]

Toes crossed none of mine fall off, [ he says, still finding the energy to be flippant despite how raw his voice sounds. ] I assume you're both still alive. [ A beat. ] Well, Kathryn.

[ Jury's always out on Scotty. Jim nudges him with a foot. ]

natasha romanoff | mcu

[expiable]

i. frozen land

[ If it weren’t for Natasha’s red hair, peaking out from beneath her hat, she’d be invisible. All in white gear from head to toe, snow goggles secure on the top of her head: It’s not the Natha-standard issue but instead lifted from her closet, designed to hide her from enemy eyes. She trudges through the snow with purposeful, practiced movements. This isn’t her first time out in the cold.

a. If someone walks alone, she sidles up to them, delivering a dry quip. ]

Pity I left my skis on another planet.

[ b. And if someone finds themselves lost, Natasha volunteers to search for the missing, emerging near one of Magda’s markers. Perhaps her goal is atonement, for having left so many to die in the snow before now. ]

Anybody out here?

ii. cantina

[ Off to the side, she sits at a table, tipping her chair back idly. For longer than anyone notices, she observes and listens, halfway through a clear cocktail. If someone catches her eye, she offers a confident wave, warmth reinforced by the smile on upon her face. After an hour or so of observation, she joins the fray.

Natasha is Russian — or, she was. Between that and her training, she holds her own with the lively patrons and makes a point to show off her high tolerance. Catch her throwing knives at a target on the wall, like a game of high-stakes darts (and purposefully missing the mark by a centimeter or two); accomplishing dares (whether she was told to strip off an item of clothing or to make someone smile, she removes her scarf and slips it around someone else’s neck, mouth quirked in a near smile); or knocking back a pint faster than her opponent and winning another drink for her trouble. She offers her prize to any refugees nearby with a simple, “Take it. I’ve had enough.” ]

iii. mission

[ Natasha chooses her jobs carefully. Fortunately, this exercise satisfies her own curiosity as well as Darma’s interests. She remains on high alert, as ever, features schooled into neutrality. The abandoned ship calls images of aliens and jumpscares to the surface, reminding her of the fantastic nature of the world, these days. Whether she met her current partner in the city or at the wreck itself, she appears open to teamwork.

a. When they lower themselves into an opening, she rolls up her sleeves (feeling the cold bite her skin) and reveals blue piping up her forearm — gauntlets of some sort.

The glow helps light the way.

b. As they traverse the deck, the sound of scraping metal warns of impending debris. She throws an arm in front of her companion, halting their steps before a ceiling panel crashes down from above. ]

iv. wildcard

[ Peep at a photo of Stalingrad or the Hudson River; share an igloo hotel room; or go ice skating!! Hit me up with anything, or lmk to set up something special ♥ ]

v;

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter's not entirely sure how a place can suck and rule at the same time, but Nadril somehow manages to do both with aplomb.

But, hey. Scavenging. That's always been something Peter's been pretty good, and more than that, he's always been at least a little bit of a tinkerer – obviously nowhere near as good as Rocket, but he's not awful. He put together his guns and his mask and his jet attachments all on his own, after all. Like a big boy.

Still, Rocket has a better idea of what he's doing than Peter ever has, which is why he's mostly on retrieval duty, and Rocket is on Evil Lego Assembly duty. He returns to the dude with a bag slung over his shoulder. ]

You ever gonna learn the words to that?

[ This, as he's letting the bag drop to the deck with a few heavy clanks. ]

iii OBVS

[expiable]

[ Nat only decided to join the party moments ago, but her relaxed posture suggests the environment isn't unfamiliar. She lifts her half-drunk cocktail (something pink and fruity; given to her, not ordered), tipping it this way and that, as if assessing how much she intends to down. Ultimately, she pushes it to the side. ]

I don't sweat the small stuff. [ intoned airily, corners of her mouth quirking. ]

[ The bartender slides across two shots, one for herself and her partner. ]

i;

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Sooooo.

Peter fucked up. Like, a sort of "zigged" when he should have "zagged" situation, and he finds himself—

Not lost, exactly. Definitely not lost. But a little turned around? A little disoriented? He has his mask deployed to keep out the worst of the cold, but it does little for all the white and white and white filling his vision. But, okay, he's been in worst scraps than this. And he's totally going to be fine, he tells himself. No need to panic. Things have a funny way of working out for him, most of the time; he's always had an uncanny sort of luck.

And this time, luck comes in the form of... a big white dog. With, like, crazy feathers and red markings, and—

Wait, holy shit, he knows that dog. ]

Ammy?

[ And he shouts it almost incredulously over the howling winds. ]

mission!!

[expiable]

[ natasha knows enough about technology — in her time, anyway — but it's obvious scotty has an engineering background that outmatches her own from the way he sifts through junk to find useful bits and bobs. she spies his gadget, too. seems like everyone received a little something from home. her widow gauntlets remain concealed underneath her layers of clothing, but they'll come in handy, if this bucket isn't as abandoned as it seems.

she leans back against the cold wall, arms crossed in casual comfort (not irritation) as she watches him work. every creak warrants her attention, eyes flickering about the space. ]

You don't think a fresh coat of paint will do the trick?

a2 | nier automata (ota)

[atwo]

I.)) frozen land
[ Thank god she is an android because the winter doesn't bother her in the slightest, her skin isn't like that of humans and neither does she have blood running through her veins so there's no reason for her to feel the icy cold that whips against her skin from the harsh winds. Her clothes are clear proof of that because, well, she is wearing the same black uniform that she has always worn on her body. It's what she has worn since birth, so why bother changing now? It isn't like new clothes will keep her warm. ]

Are you really so weak? [ A2 turns her head to look at her companion who might have either, stopped walking, looked like they slowed down or tripped over their own feet. Either way, she isn't too amused about having to babysit people. If she had it her own way, she would have left them behind already because that is just the type of person A2 is.

It would be so much easier if she could travel on her own, and quicker. There's no need for her to stop after all ]

II.)) paws about town
[ Robotic pets are so strange to see.

There's no real point to them that A2 can understand, not that she understands the real point to have a real living, breathing one. They seem to just cost a lot of money and effort to look after, along with the energy of keeping track of them too. ]

What... creature even is this?

[ The one she holds in her hand is small and fluffy, nothing like she has ever seen before. Any animal she has come across before have always been large, quite large, so this is a whole new sight to her. ]

III.)) the mission
[ She isn't here for either 'side'. Magda and Darma don't matter to her, all she is interested in is the scraps for herself. There's a chance she might something of use to herself in a place like this and so A2 is going to check it out. If others want to take what she's found and deemed useless to give to the others, they're free to do so. ]

Here, just take this. [ A2 throws the spare part at whoever is closest to her before digging around again. ]

I wonder why they haven't bothered to check this out themselves.

[ It's been here longer than any of them so why have they waited this long to check it out? Or rather, get someone else to check to see what is useful. Not that she minds being here because, well, she is only here for herself. ]

[expiable]

[ dutch pairs off some locals (a gentleman whose flush reaches the tips of his ears, when the dare directs him to a girl lifting her drink to hide a smile). well-spotted, stranger.

with two drinks in hand, nat settles in beside her. ]

And they say matchmaking went out of style.

[ she sees what you're up to, gal, and the way her mouth curves upward in amusement suggests that she enjoys the display. ]

[directives]

[ that's training that's come in handy on more than one occasion, and she still prides herself on being able to keep her entire crew alive on that sweltering world the kazon abandoned them on when they took over voyager. memories of that hostile, barren environment and the feel of sand in places sand should never be make her almost grateful for these frigid temperatures. at least she wasn't roasting in a starfleet uniform — instead, she was freezing in one, shivering and silently wishing for an environmental suit of some kind. they weren't comfortable, but at least internal controls could be adjusted for personal warmth. ]

They won't, [ she says, somehow finding the strength to say the words without her teeth clattering together. the power sheer stubbornness. ] I'd make that an order, but seeing as we're standing on equal footing here...

[ that pun is not intended, but she leaves it where it is, instead busying herself with freeing her hands for as long as it takes to yank the pins out of her hair so that the tresses will help spare the back of her neck from the cold. ]

LOOK AT THIS GRAAAAPH /chad kroeger freezes, proudly displaying office chart

[summertimeblues]

[The town is...odd.

Nicer in its amenities than either Olympia or Wyver, but now it's gone the other way and aped Blade Runner, 2001, and Star Wars all in one swoop. The location is shit too, can't forget that can we? Even with the wrist bands and the techno-wonders, the trip here has not been forgotten. He still can't feel his toes.

Yet new is new, and there's a lot that can be learned from your predecessors. Richie'd taken to the streets on a curious jaunt, getting lost in the sights and muddling through some unsavory thoughts. Darma and the sullen interceptor left everyone with more questions than answers. Ty-pi-cal.

So what now? Who can be trusted whe—]

Oof! Oh! [He's clipped shoulders with a roadblock. A girl, edging on the underside of sixteen, swallowed up in a parka with big specs and pin-straight red hair. Richie pulls back, raising both hands in apology.] So sorry, didn't see you there.

[Ordinarily he might press onwards, but now he pauses. There's a niggling sense of recognition, something to do with the sheet of hair, the glasses...beats him why.]

[impavid]

Hey!

So John would be curious about both Central and the crashed Natha ship just outside Nadril. Obviously Central is sort of in use, but if he tries to snoop around and gently technopath it a little when nobody is looking can he get anything interesting out of it? He's sort of looking for logs/diagnostics, old messages from Darma, you know -- anything to tell him about when it landed and how things were at that point or anything more current it might be recording/logging.

Equally, the same for the crashed ship! I'm assuming that will take a little more engineering to revive sections long enough to try and get info out, but if he does -- any diagnostics/logs? Voicemails from Darma asking why they don't call anymore? Information about how it crashed?

Lastly, those rental pets... could he technopath one into following someone for him? Say, Magda for a bit? He's not really sure he trusts him and he's curious about the things he says when nobody is looking.

rrrrobos

[pebblestone]

[ Doesn't Nott know, Frederick is Always Watching™.

Actually, that's only true when Chrom is around, and since Chrom hasn't been around for quite some time now, his diligent habits have slackened somewhat. This time it's more luck than dutiful training, his eyes lifting up from the robotic rabbit before him just in time to catch sight of the—he? She? It? (He's not quite sure what to make of the green skin and small stature.)

Well, whatever it is, it's certainly up to no good. ]

Hold!

[ He pitches his (extremely disapproving) voice a smidge louder than usual so it carries down the aisle. ]

What do you think you're doing?

[ Here he is, a six foot tall man made decidedly less imposing by the two scarves and three sweaters layered upon his form. ]

b / i.

[stuns]

[ the tech here is different, and it isn't like juno's much of a technologically inclined guy despite what era he lives in, but he knows this stuff is on some other kind of level. the earrings are kind of weird, mostly because juno knows what it's like to hear the thoughts of others - a jumbled mess of this and that, impulse and drive, greed and fear. he waits for a barrage of voices, not unlike the martian pill, but instead he only gets one voice.

and uh. it's not so bad. bright, warm, encompassing, thrilled. though it takes him a moment to figure out just where it's coming from. no one within some kind of distance of him seems to be the type to be shouting "hello hello hello!" into the nothing.

except for when he turns around and sees a wolf wearing something similar on its ear. and uh. well. looking pretty excited.

again... this isn't too weird to juno. though the animals he's used to understanding have more of a gravely, grumbly kind of intonation and hulking body language themselves (martian rabbits are no joke, alright.) he points at himself. the voice that comes is kind of rough, tired-sounding, but not too displeased. animals are way better than people. even weird animals that can apparently talk. ]

Hey there to you too, buddy.

[ whoever you are. ]

Shuusei Kagari | Psycho-Pass | OTA

[hedonistic]

i. do you want to build a snowman

[It's cold. Bitterly, miserably cold. Kagari certainly makes no secret of his displeasure during the times the group is on the move--bitching and groaning and muttering all the while they trudge through the blizzard--but the times when they stop to rest, his attitude shifts a bit. Maybe it's the warmth of a fire that perks him up, or the simple fact of no longer being buffeted by freezing winds, buuuut the snow starts seeming a bit more like fun than nonstop misery.

Perhaps you'll find yourself pelted by a snowball? Or, perhaps, quite literally invited to build a snowman. If only there was a carrot for the nose.....]

ii. area man argues with mirror

[One would think a person like Kagari would be thrilled by having a "helpful" AI in his living space. They were commonplace back in Japan, of course, but he'd never gotten a chance to experience them for himself. And he does enjoy it, at first. Even laughs at some of Ralf's quips here and there, playfully calls it an asshole, the works.

...But maybe that sass gets a little too sassy, because at some point he can be heard exclaiming, through a door he accidentally left open:]

--It's an aesthetic, okay??

[Yeah, if 'edgy tryhard' is what you're going for. You look like a hamster fell into a tub of orange soda and spent too long in a dryer.]

Shut up!

[someone save him from this savage roasting. or laugh at him, that's good too.]

iii. you just lost the Game [ frosty cantina ]

a.
[The Nadril colonists truly are Kagari's people. Betting in dares is an utterly inspired idea, and he gets really into it--taking it as a personal challenge to both give and take on the silliest and craziest dares possible. Join him in some terrible karaoke (extra terrible if he needs to sing in English), or in doing some kind of ridiculous or ill-advised stunt? Or maybe you're the winner of a bet against him, in which case he'll grin brightly, practically sparkling in anticipation of the upcoming challenge:]

C'mon, hit me with your best shot.

b.
[Maybe he's won the bet against you, though. And while you're awaiting your next dare, Kagari picks up a breadstick from some kind of snack being shared while betting on the sports going on around here, and twirls it in his fingers, eyes glittering with mischief.]

You ever hear of something called the Pocky Game?

iv. paws-itively amazing

[Did Kagari ever mention how much he missed technology in Wyver? He really, really missed technology. When he hears about the store of robot pets, he pretty much immediately goes to check it out. Robot animals were actually more common than live ones, back in Japan, but it's still something of a novelty to get to walk into a store and look around inside just because you want to.

True to form, he finds himself almost immediately in the section of the store with the mythological animals and unique ones from other worlds. The dragons, the werewolves, the kitsune. Maybe he's playing with a robotic replica creature from your universe whenever you cross his path?]

Man, aren't these so cool? I need like, ten of them yesterday.

v. home is where the heart is

a.

[There's two photographs that emerge from the insect-like bots when Kagari passes by them. One is of his younger self, about fourteen or fifteen, sitting in an empty cell, staring at nothing. He stuffs that one in his pocket angrily before looking at the other one. The second is completely different. Kagari is older in it, approximately his current age, and surrounded by a group of others he's clearly close to.

This one, Kagari lingers on a few moments, smiling a little in fond nostalgia. Unfortunately, being distracted means he doesn't quite look at where he's going, and he soon bumps into another person and falls backwards on his ass--both the photo in his hands and the crumpled one in his pocket falling to the ground. Are you nosy enough to look...?]

b.

[Of course Kagari's going to explore Central at some point or another. He doesn't bother much with the history section of the research lab, but he does make his way to the various technologies on display. It's all pretty fascinating, and Kagari has a great time poking and prodding at the items that he's allowed to touch...until he comes upon one particular display case, which houses a futuristic-looking gun. Kagari's expression sours, suddenly.]

What the fuck?

[Where the hell did these people get a Dominator? Sybil was supposed to be gone forever.]

John Sheppard | Stargate Atlantis

[impavid]

A FROZEN LAND;

John has never liked people who interrupt to make little speeches. It kinda smacks of villainous monologue, and villainous monologues are not a thing John is fond of.

Especially not villainous monologues from people who live in mysterious secluded place you have to access by walking through snow storms.

John, at least, is used to the cold. He spent a while out in Antarctica before he was sent to Atlantis, so getting through it isn't a big deal -- but it's still tiring. Walking through snow takes a lot of stamina, especially in high winds.

That means they need to take breaks, especially for anyone he's travelling with who may not be as used to it as he is. It's a long walk in the biting cold, and even though moving is better for staying warm exhaustion is a thing. The spot he's chosen to pause in is sheltered from the wind, and John is watching the surroundings with a sceptical squint before he finally says --

"He sounds like a man who owns a white cat. You know? Calling us lapdogs. I mean really! Is that meant to make us want to trust him?"

He's still stuck on bond-villain Magda.

A WARM WELCOME:

Finally making it to Nadril is a relief. The fancy ear-cuffs and wristlets are cool, but John feels wary still after listening to Magda talks. There's every chance these things are actually being used to spy on them in turn, and he puts them away in his bag after a moment of thought rather than using them.

Instead, he walks around the small lodgings, pokes around the drop ship and finally finds himself exploring the research facility -- where he quickly ends up locked in a heated debate. The object he's gesturing at is small and dull looking, but from the sounds of it John recognises it.

"It won't work for you," he's saying, gesturing at the item they won't let him take. "That's why it looks broken. Listen to me, it's gene activated -- I know what it is! It won't work for anyone in this place unless they're from my home and even then it's a pretty low chance they'll have it!"

It doesn't look as if the staff are especially willing to budge. Neither does it look especially like John is going to give up, though.

RECREATION;

John dodges all the little skittering robot pets long enough to make it to the Cantina, and then pulls up a stool to eye the smoking drinks.

He's drunk smoking alcohol before. He hasn't forgotten the last time.

Still, for the moment he's mostly trying to subtly listen in on some local gossip -- try to acclimatise himself to opinions on things and generally blend in as much as he can. The sports games are interesting, John likes sport enough to be curious about it, but the rules are all alien and it's going to take some time to work out how it's played and which teams have a good reputation. Which means he probably shouldn't be wagering anything yet.

When he spots someone sitting down and considering a drink nearby, though, he finally pipes up --

"I wouldn't drink that."

Speaking from experience.

THE MISSION;

Magda is clearly being just as cryptic as the Natha for now, so after a quick lap of his tower John makes for something else -- the other crashed Natha ship. It's been there a long time, but the faint flickering of lights on the panels says it isn't dead yet. If it isn't dead yet, John thinks there's always a chance he can get something out of it. He's half laid on the floor with his hands in a panel, muttering under his breath.

"Come on, show me what you got. Come on, wake up --"

There's a momentary surge of power, and John switches a hand up to vaguely touch a patch of wall near the control panel.

"There we go! Logs, come on, give me logs--"

But it begins to drain again after a moment and he sighs, drops his hand and squints back into the panel with a sigh. Something, something is still just a little wrong. Not surprising, considering how the thing's been scavenged, but if he can just find it and get this thing up and running maybe he can learn something.

[ ooc; I default to prose but I'm happy to switch to brackets for anyone who prefers that! If you want anything not listed, just shoot me a PM! ]

v.

[stuns]

[ chair? spun backwards.

ass? sat in it.

juno places his drink on the edge of the table, something that's glowing a dull lilac color and tastes like acetone, but with a pleasant warm aftertaste that chases it down. he tilts his head just a little, one arm slung over where the chair rises up. ]

Depends. A, what's it gonna cost me, and B, If you tell me I've got a tall, dark, and handsome stranger in my future, do I get to clock you?

2

[gekkajuu]

[Atsushi knows he couldn't afford a robotic pet like this, but the salesperson had insisted he at least give it a try, and he does miss his cub... so he relents eventually, getting something that looks vaguely feline.

By the time Thor is done with it, it looks more like a Scottish Fold than anything else.]

It... still belongs to the store. Technically.

[He's going to have to pay for it now, though, isn't he? How on earth is he supposed to manage that?!

Atsushi lets out a long sigh. He understands this was an accident, but how is he supposed to tell the salesperson that?!]

frozen

[gekkajuu]

Atsushi has been spoiled with the weather in Olympia, and even back in Japan, he'd never been cold since he left the orphanage. So this is definitely a bit of a shock - but it's nothing he can't take.

He still hasn't thought to transform and make use of his fur, but no doubt that time will come.

"I'm fine!" The question surprises him, just because he's not used to strangers caring about him. "Thank you for asking."

It's sort of awkward to leave things at that, but he doesn't ask the obvious return question until it's come to mind because he genuinely means it. "Are you all right?"

iii

[dreamprotector]

[Riku so far has refused every offer for trying out the robot pets – he has little need for one when he already has just gotten his batpet to worry about. He just raises an eyebrow when Rocket orders him around on the robo-cat, but after a moment decides to pick it up anyway even while saying:]

It's not mine, you know.

[At the same moment Highwind materializes over his shoulder, chirping curiously at the cat straining in Riku's arms. New friend? :o]

juno steel / the penumbra podcast

[stuns]

I. Through the Storm (Frozen Land)

[ the theia makes good work of keeping track of the various heat signatures along the way through the storm. with visibility being pretty much next to nothing, juno's relying pretty heavily on the lights that flicker occasionally and the motes of heat that are, for the most part, remaining in a group, but on occasion are fanning out into random directions. maybe you're having a tough time seeing, or maybe the storm's getting to be a bit much. either way, juno's moving ahead with a stubbornness in his clenched teeth.

his right eye glows a little like a beacon through the snow as he grabs someone who's straying off the path and tugs them a little. ]

Wrong direction, unless you're real keen on becoming a popsicle. C'mon, I got you.


II. Problems with Ralf (AI Shenanigans) ( Closed to Kagari/hedonistic )

[ are you ever just? trying to brush your teeth? or run your fingers through your hair? or are you just trying to really feel yourself out before have to deal with a bunch of people you don't really know or trust all that way? because juno's feeling Some Kind Of Way mid-brushstroke, the fault of several alarms blaring in his ears telling him he wasn't allowed to leave without brushing his teeth (as much as he promised to do it after grabbing something to eat.) The narrow bathroom mirror hums with a voice that sounds more amused than it should: ]

Smile! It's your best feature!

[ around a mouthful of toothpaste, juno grumbles: ]

Not really feelin' like it today.

Show us a smile! Come on. Just a little one!

[ juno ducks down and spits into the sink. ]

Tell me to smile one more time and this toothbrush is gonna find its way so far up your -

... Just a couple of teeth? Come on. Let's see those pearly whites!

[ juno calls out into the room he's sharing with one shuusei kagari, toothpaste foam at the corner of his mouth, brush in an iron grip. ]

Hey, uh, are you personally attached to this mirror at all? Because I'm about ten seconds away from smashing it in. It's really pissing me off.


III. Hard Pass (Frosty Tap Cantina)

[ look, he just came here for a drink. or two. or three. you know... whatever he's in the mood for. the photographs fluttering down on his way here haven't exactly done much for the hyperion-shaped hole somewhere in his gut, prying fingers with a view of its skyline, all mottled purple and orange and blue. juno's half lost in something that looks like it could be a manhatten, but much more fluorescent, when the bar's patrons start going wild and the screens start flashing that someone's made a goal. apparently however the hell this sport works, something good's happened. good enough to make someone bold as hell. a figure comes up and grabs juno by the front of his coat, about to lay some kind of celebratory kiss right on him.

which isn't great a great decision on their part, because juno's got a hell of a reflex, and the theia lets him shoot his hand out immediately to grab his own drink and smash it against the side of the offender's skull. there's a crack of some kind, and juno hopes they get the message that this lady's not really up for being part of someone's stupid sporting celebrations tonight. ]

Sorry, maybe I should have started with not. Interested.

[ he boots the stranger, a local by the looks of it, away from where he's sitting, glancing at the remnants of his drink in his hands with a little bit of glass embedded into his palm. with a withering sigh: ]

Dammit.


IV. Wildcard

[ exactly what it says on the tin. feel free to contact me at shibes @ plurk. ]

1.a.

[thedarkbond]

[Ren is cold, exhausted, and in no condition to turn down any offers of help from anyone by the time everyone breaks for camp. This isn't something he's used to or built for, scrawny figure that he is, but he knows his best chance lies in what connections he can make in this new world, which is something much easier for him to deal with. So when a cheery-looking man offers to start a fire, he accepts in an equally cheery tone, even if the smile he pulls up is rather a tired one.

It brightens up a lot at how the fire is started, though. Ren's fond of unusual powers and powerful people in general, and so the spark of lightning that ignites the wood has him looking much more enthused and engaged than he did a moment ago.]

Oh, that's a useful power. But you look like a thundery sort of guy, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

[His tone is very upbeat and rather high, matching the simplicity of the observation. A big man with a big presence seems to fit lightning and thunder just fine (and lightning-y doesn't roll off the tongue quite as well).]

Frozen Land

[thedarkbond]

[Ren's sense of direction is bad at the best of times, so while he's been trying to follow the group as much as possible, he has been straying occasionally with how limited line of sight is here. He's been lucky to get pulled back onto the path by the lights or by distant calls and sounds so far, but one thing he isn't quite expecting is for a girl on a motorcycle to pull up beside him.

It's definitely a pleasant sort of surprise that comes onto his face, though, because that is a really cool bike and he's hard pressed not to remark on that before getting to the actual offer she presents.]

Ah, it's too easy to get lost here... [He's trying not to sound overly concerned about it, though his voice is a little breathy, as if he's having to exert himself well more than he's used to.] Like this?

[He climbs on hopefully far enough behind her that he can hold onto the sides without jostling her any. He's never ridden a motorbike before (nobody in his world would ever trust him with one, chances are), but he's seen it done.]

b.ii.

[thedarkbond]

[Considering Ren's physical condition can best be described as "non-existent", he's sorely tempted to just fall onto a bed and sleep as soon as he claims one of the rooms at the fancy (okay, not very fancy, but still interesting) igloo-inn thing. It's only the three days of limited supplies and facilities that drives him to shower first and pull on an oversized pair of pants and a shirt (while ignoring a passive-aggressive comment from the mirror), and eventually put the ear cuffs and wristlets back on too before going back into the room proper. He'll take what extra warmth he can get after days of freezing cold.

...That said, apparently he's received a guest in the not insignificant amount of time he was in the bathroom. At least it's a familiar face, and he finds himself checking whether she ended up with the ear cuffs herself as he bends down to touch gently at a trailing paw.]

Are you awake, Amaterasu-san? [Silly question, but he's very tired himself and he'd rather not find out from personal experience how a wolf reacts to being woken up by having someone collapse asleep on top of them.]

v

[hellzone]

Little Demon Molly! I didn't know you could tell fortunes also! [ Yoshiko probably is a bit too young to be in the bar but she dgaf. She's here, she's walking around, she's got some drink concoction in her hand that honestly looks a little vile, and she's giving Molly a wide grin. Man, is she happy to see him. ]

My cards are back home. [ The home that doesn't exist anymore. The home that's destroyed. But Yoshiko doesn't let herself think on that for too long as she goes right back into getting in Molly's face. ] Hey, hey, if you tell my fortune, then I'll tell yours!

[ her fortune telling skills are bullshit. But there's enthusiasm behind it and that's what matters the most (maybe? Who knows) ]

[shashka]

[ unfortunately, Ocelot had always subscribed t[ ]o the "trust no one" school of thinking, and his suspicions had only grown throughout the past year. still... ]

And the only way to get more of the story for now is to talk to the old refugees, and we can't be entirely sure if we can trust their version of events.

[ which does make him wonder... ]

Not to mention, the Natha are still the ones with the station.

[ and everything else that entailed. still, there had to be more information somewhere, though they were unlikely to find a completely unbiased source.]