❪ 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

Comments

can you believe i've never used this icon before.

[evite]

( of course she's going to worry about it. a deal is a deal, after all, and even a wager-fueled deal deserves to be honored; whether eggsy wants the drink or not, she'll get him one. maybe not immediately, but at some point, there'll be one.

for now, though, she's got to deal with her own reactions — like the slight flush, for one, that blooms across the apples of her cheeks, chalked up to sudden body heat rolling off his blacks. there's the warmth, too, of his hand against her jaw, worth noting and filing away in some folder in the back of her mind. the kiss itself is quick, brief; he's pulling back before it even goes anywhere, looking like the metaphorical canary-eating cat on his barstool. not that it was bad, really. just... unmemorable. good, though. satisfactory, even.

she thinks that said kiss might do it, too, even if he technically did kiss her instead of the other way around, but she's quickly proven wrong by the hooting laughter of her fellow better across the room. (no pass, dearie! don't flake us now!) so, word to the wise: the colonists are particular. oh well. )

Sorry about this.

( she's not, really, but it's worth saying before diving back in for something more akin to a proper (as the redcoats call it) snog, her own hands cupping his jaw on both sides for better leverage. she's fucking short, okay, don't judge her. )

4. time to bond or something,

[givingback]

[ Fishing has always been something she enjoys, something she can get lost in. Dressed like an Eskimo, she has a line and some bait, not intending to share her company and pausing when she realizes someone's there. And then she realizes that someone is Theon who her mother described in amazing, horrifying detail.

It's hard not to know who he is. But even still, Bree makes her way over - close, but not so far in his space that it's uncomfortable and starts to work on getting her hook baited. ]

There's no forgetting something like this. It's like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, it's always there.

[ She looks over, offers a very small smile at him, then turns back to what she's doing. ]

I've never done this on ice before, though.

1b.

[givingback]

[ Brianna is frozen. Not quite literally, but almost literally. There's someone in front of her she's never seen before, standing right there as she makes her way through Nadril trying to get to a building, trying to find her mother, and then there's this guy missing an eye and offering to warm her up.

Should she say no? Absolutely. Does she? Definitely not. Accepting an offer like that from a man she doesn't know would be (should be) heavily frowned upon, but her fingers are stiff and burn and she just wants to be warm again. So she moves toward the warmth he's offering, teeth chattering the entire way. But she does manage to speak. ]

How...are you...not freezing?

☇ mission ii.

[evite]

( the living quarters aren't the most interesting place in the world, but with the more promising rooms currently blockaded by snow drifts and delicate structure, daisy's holding off on blasting her way in until there's been time for more careful observation. for now, she's satisfied with combing through rooms of (presumably, hopefully) dead people's stuff. there's not much, really, but she's at least pleased with what they've found so far. the cabling from the ship's telecom console near the door is worth hoarding, if nothing else.

to cheryl's question, daisy offers a non-committal shrug and a reply: ) Not much yet. But, you know, out of curiosity ... is there a reason you're stealing dead people's lingerie, or is this just a don't ask don't tell kind of thing?

( it's probably not lingerie. or maybe it is. depends on what cheryl's got out of that drawer. daisy might be right on the money, or she might just be trying to rile the other girl up. who knows! )

[shashka]

[ a laugh. ]

Fire whiskey sounds intriguing. Might work well mixed in with a bit of vodka.

[ of course, drink mixing is never the best idea, but hey, they're in this to win it. ]

An alchemist, huh. Not the lead-into-gold type, I assume.

[ he's spoken with at least one person from a world with legitimate alchemy. hell, one of his best friends here was a legitimate mage. at this point, it really wouldn't surprise him all that much. not that it really should have in the first place. after all, his father was a legitimate spirit medium. ]

i.

[enfeeble]

[ Next to Daisy, All Might looks similarly apprehensive. Normally, a bit of cold weather wouldn't be much of a struggle for him—a couple of wide leaps through the air and he would've been able to cross the icy fields in an instant. But he can't very well leave the rest of the refugees behind, and it's too risky still to rush ahead on his own when visibility is so low, moreover there's no guarantee that even at full power that he would be able to get through the tundra before the time limit on his bigger, more powerful form runs out.

So the person next to Daisy is a thin, near-skeletal man, looking very much like a strong breeze could tip him over.

He regards Daisy's extended had with a bit of surprise, finding it odd to be on the receiving end of such warmth from a stranger. ]

Of course. [ And so he turns it around; she needs companionship enough to turn to a stranger, and All Might isn't the type to ignore someone in need.

He takes her hand, offering a comforting smile as he begins to walk. ] We do need to stick together.

[ Too bad he takes one step and then goes immediately stumbling forwards when a strong gust of wind hits in him the back. Bye Daisy. ]

Shit!

☇ hit me, barkeep.

[evite]

( she's been nursing a beer bottle for the better part of the evening, label long since peeled off a la sheryl crow circa nineteen ninety nine, attention loosely divided between the ridiculous sportsball game on the screens around the bar and the attendants within it. attendants like mr mixologist here to her left, a man whose attentions have been squarely focused all evening long.

will she take the drink? sure. will she drink it? unsure. )

... only if you tell me what's in it, dude. I might be in space, but I don't have a death wish.

oh no all might

[evite]

( whatever his reasoning, she's glad he took her up on his offer. it gives her some satisfaction in this trek to be able to guide another, her fledgling leadership skills growing with each successful interaction. she thinks, even within the safety of the cryotubes, coulson's probably proud of her.

but then his hand is tugged out of hers by the sheer force of the wind, and daisy's left to holler in his new direction, feet dragging through the snowbanks as she tries to chase after him. it's slow going, but she's trying! )

Wait! Oh, goddamn it!

( why can't she be a cool superspy with launchable grappling hooks or something? jesus christ, natha, get it together. your gear kits suck. )

Grab on to something!

ii

[shashka]

[ well, if there's nothing else that Ocelot enjoys, it's people watching. you can learn so much about someone just by sitting there, and let the alcohol flow freely. he's had a few drinks at this point, enough for someone without his particular skillset to be decently drunk.

which, he assumes, is why the young woman in question approaches him. a slight hint of amusement crosses his face. ]

Cute.

[ though she isn't exactly what he'd say his "type" is, he'll take it all in good humour. ]

Making friends with the locals?

[ an assumption, perhaps, but one that seems easy enough to make, given the circumstances. ]

I

[diamondize]

[The cold doesn't bother Diamond--Like, at all. It's clear enough since their uniform consists of short-shorts, thigh-highs, short sleeves and opera gloves, so the extra things for warmth mean nothing to them.

Molly's tapestry is much prettier though, and Diamond wanders over with a curious look, their own blanket tucked under one arm and the warm cider they'd been offered in another, which they hold out to him with a bright smile.] Here! I can't drink this, so would you like it?

[givingback]

[ Bree looks at Nott, sans mask, and honestly, at this point, whatever. She was in space, she almost froze to death, there are robots. She doesn't have room to question anything else right now.

So, instead, she grins and takes the glass. ]

I can't believe something this color is edible. But hey. Bottoms up.

[ Tossing the shot back, she's actually pretty delighted as warmth floods her system and she smiles, nodding. ]

It's really good. You might even have a winner.

i.

[shashka]

[ it really had been far too long since he'd dealt with the cold, but like hell was he going to let it show. perhaps it was just a bit of the stubbornness of his youth showing through.

so, when an acquaintance offers him some tea, he can't help but laugh just a little. ]

I've seen worse.

[ after all, wouldn't that make him an awful Russian if he couldn't handle a "little" cold?

but notably, he doesn't say "no" to the hot drink. ]

[evite]

Maybe.

( is she making friends? technically, she guesses you could call it that. if she had to write up a report, she'd categorize it as intelligence gathering. ingratiating herself with the locals, playing their games, posing as little of a threat as she can in the meantime.

she doesn't choose anyone in particular, though, when it comes time to make good on her bet. at least not for the reasons the colonists seem to expect her to, not out of attraction or desire or wanting. she chooses someone who looks less likely to bite back at the request, and his body language had certainly been open enough.

so, yes. the question at hand, and his non-answer. )

Is that a 'no thank you'? I won't be offended if you say I'm not your type, you know. ( just in case he's looking for an out: ) They didn't specify what kind of kiss it had to be.

sports go sports

[hellzone]

[ Yoshiko isn't as drunk as Nott but, though she doesn't realize it, she's a little drunk. During her quest to create the perfect mixed drink, a few of the trial runs were alcoholic. Thankfully, she's drunk enough that she doesn't recoil at the odd looking bizarre green person that's approaching her. Because wow, those are some teeth. But she already made friends with a purple person so she shouldn't judge (or something like that).

Yoshiko also has no idea what guy Nott's talking about or how the game even works, but she gives the goblin a nod. ]

I accept your challenge! And I bet...I bet that you can't drink all of this drink!

[ And she shoves the drink in her hands towards Nott. The drink itself has seaweed green colored bubbles floating inside a dark red liquid with the consistency of an Icee. This drink is called 'Demonic Undertakings' and it tastes like someone upended an entire bottle of siracha into a bowl of chicken broth. ]

I like it, but everybody who I've asked to taste it hasn't had the mental fortitude necessary to drink such a powerful concoction!

pls don't drink this

[revver]

[ Makoto is taken by surprise, so the beverage gets close enough that she can practically feel her tongue melting. She manages to push the glass away just before it's too late though. The fact the person trying to make her drink the stuff looks younger her is slightly worrying. ]

A-ah, thanks but I don't really drink. Are you sure that it's safe, though? We don't know what sorts of things people have around here.

[ Because she might try to make someone else drink that and Makoto just can't overlook what could be a murder attempt. ]

Just what did you use to make this?

Frozen Land

[diamondize]

[These humans get so mad in the cold. Was this what the cold did to people? Besides make them shake all weird like that and breath smoke or whatever it was. Diamond trudges along wearing very little and none of it the protective warm clothing provided by the station. They don't generate body heat anyhow, so it wouldn't be very effective in the first place, but it's the thought that counts, maybe?

Either way, they giggle when they approach Scotty and hear the grumbling and grumping, their smile amused] Are you still cold? Do you want some extra? [The clothing provided to them might not fit scotty very well though, since Diamond is rail-thin and all but. They're trying?]

iii.

[shashka]

[ thankfully, Ocelot's mostly been able to avoid random displays of affection, with some clever maneuvering, and looking far too engrossed in one thing or another. still, when he sees one very unfortunate individual and his reaction, he can't quite help but feel a certain air of nostalgia. those were some impressive reflexes, and he's got to admire that.

(briefly, he wonders what John would do in the same situation? would his reflexes take over? or would he react like EVA said he did, and completely freeze up? hopefully one day, he might just find out)

regardless, it's enough for him to pick up his drink, and head over to take a seat next to the guy, not even bothering to ask if he has permission to. ]

I take it you aren't a fan of the local celebrations?

[ does this guy look like he's open for conversation? probably not. does Ocelot particularly care? no. ]

Reinhardt Wilhelm | Overwatch | OTA

[panzersoldat]

1 - a frozen land
1a
It's freezing, but they must continue forward. Even though the snow makes it difficult, he presses onward. Reinhardt won't leave anyone behind though. If the snow gets too deep or you fall behind, the older man loops back to offer a hand up. "I know it's hard but just a little further all right. If you need to, hop on my back. I'll carry you." He will.

1b
Once darkness falls or a rest is called, Reinhardt will be the first to offer up his warmth. The man is a walking furnace. He sits close to whatever lights there is to warm them by and holds open his coat. "Please, sit here. It will be warmer, I promise."

2 -a warm welcome
2-ii
[ There is just one very very large problem with the new sleeping arrangements. That problem. Reinhardt isn't small. Already, he bares the mark of reddened flesh on his forhead from knocking his head against the door frame. He must hunch over when he gets inside. The other problem...

The beds. Reinhardt just sort of stands there and stares at the tiny things and frowns a little. Then he sighs and strips the blankets off to pile them into a corner. He tries to keep upbeat about this.] This is just like camping! Isn't it great.

[ In the background the AI happily reminds him to watch his head. ]

3 - Recreation
3-ii
A drinking contest? He lives for this! Reinhardt is easily spotted perching precariously on a stool that looks like just a little more weight will have it splintering under him. Already, he's a few drinks in and seems perfectly fine. "This! This is nothing! Come, mein Freund. Drink up! Drink up! The night is still young!"

3-iii
Reinhardt has never met a challenge he won't take. It's almost not fair to dare him because he will do it. He will with a smile on his face and a laugh. There is nothing too silly or strange. So long as it hurts no one, he's more than happy to make a fool of himself.

Through the night, he can be found standing in the middle of the Cantina, vigorously singing and dancing to Miracle Wave, taking off his shirt and flexing those impressive muscles, and really late into the evening cheating the "Kiss dares" by gently asking first. "Excuse me. I have been challenged. May I kiss you?"

4 - The mission
Something shatters in Reinhardt's hands when he hears that message. He shakes with visible range. Magda. This is all Magda's doing. Those innocent people had suffered. Children were dying (well, they weren't any more, frozen as they are) all because of this being. He doesn't care if the Natha are hiding something from them. He's suspected that. What he does care about is that this being gave Raysc the ability to revive that dragon. That's what matters to him.

Call him a dog, then. Because the knight glares at the message and quietly vows. "One day..."

v.

[shashka]

[ Ocelot can't say he's happy with the situation, but he is still carefully collecting parts that seem to look useful enough, some to give to the Natha, and some to give to the Nadril.

after all, he's going to play as many sides as he can, for as long as he can. that's just his way.

when he comes across Rocket, he finds himself humming along as well, though he can't exactly say that the song brings back particularly fond memories for himself. after all, it's from an era while he was waiting for his closest friend to wake up, while finding himself under the thumb of someone far

so... basically the same situation they were in now. ]

I didn't realize you were a fan of mid-seventies Earth music.

[ though, he did seem to know about Footloose, of all things.

a pause. ]

You think you can make something useful out of all of this?

[ for once, he's actually asking a genuine question. look, he isn't an "e" rank in Research and Development for nothing. ]

[stuns]

[ juno glances over his shoulders, tense already as someone is seating themselves beside him. the immediate instinct is to claim his space with a yell, but he takes a breath through his nose, sharp. he's pushing at an errant sliver of glass and dropping it on the floor unceremoniously, he remarks: ]

If it involves touching me I'm typically not a fan of it.

[ he looks up from his hand finally and lifts a brow, the theia in his right eye glimmering softly with the come down of the motion. ]

But you seem a hell of a lot smarter than the other guy.

i.

[shashka]

[ Ocelot's been trying to avoid the "magical picture" machines. however, on the flip side, he is almost certainly interested in what others might have to show him. so, he puts on an absolutely winning smile, even if it doesn't quite fully reach his eyes. ]

Japan. Can't say that I've ever been there. Worked with a guy who was half Japanese though for nearly a decade, though.

[ it was not an experience that he was particularly eager to repeat, with the two of them only tolerating each other because of their mutual... respect for the same man. ]

I take it you're not originally from there?

[ just a... wild guess. ]

connor ( detroit: become human )

[determinans]

( a frozen land )

[ the minute they arrive and connor realizes just what sort of trek they're faced with, he turns off his temperature sensors. it's dangerous, because it means that his internal temperature could drop dangerously low and he wouldn't know it--freezing thirium, damaging his biocomponents--but what choice does he really have? it's that, or suffer the cold with the new, slightly terrifying awareness of a deviant.

he makes, at least, for a surprisingly visible figure in the driving snowstorm-- the bright blue of the light-band on his blazer is easy to spot as he moves tirelessly forward, pace never changing or faltering.

he only pauses if he notices someone else near him does so, turning with a small, apparently-unconcerned smile and offering a hand up if they've fallen or moved to rest. ]

We have to keep going, I'm afraid. Would you like to keep hold of me?

( nadril city )
i.

[ connor.. sticks out, somewhat unfortunately. with 'ANDROID' in large white lettering across the back of his blazer, and with his model and serial numbers also emblazoned for the world to see, well, it's.. kind of obvious what he is.

it's probably no surprise, then, that he seems just a tiny bit uncomfortable and maybe just a bit pained at seeing the numerous AIs being used and sold here. true, most of them seem fairly rudimentary at best, but well.. it hits a bit close to home anyway.

outside paws about town he can be found staring thoughtfully in at some of the display models, mouth tipped down into a small frown and LED a solid yellow occasionally flickering with red.

if one is roomed with him, it's also probably slightly weird watching him interact with the room's AI. it's mostly silent, with connor's LED flickering yellow from time to time to show that he is, in fact, communicating. .. hopefully he's not encouraging it to free itself. ]

ii.

[ the labs also prove to be interesting-- and also hopefully useful. he rather surprisingly finds a sample of thirium that someone was working with, and it gives him at least some hope that he'll be able to find an alternative here. without thirium, after all, he's essentially doomed to a slow decline and death.

the substance he's hovering over is bright, somewhat alarming blue-- and without seeming to care if anyone's watching, he touches a fingertip to it, then lifts that finger to press it to his tongue.

what. ]

( wildcard )

[ if you want to try one of the other prompts, lmk @ metamorphmagus and i'll work something up! ]

[sparke]

( oops?

thor looks suitably sheepish, knowing enough about midgardian custom at leat to understand what atsushi is implying. it hadn't been his intention to cause anyone trouble. well, it hadn't been his intention to step on the robotic pet at all, but now he feels worse about it than he had a moment before.

he nudges one of the folded ears with a finger, propping it back up. )

It's only a little dented.

[sparke]

A thundery sort of guy. ( thor repeats the words with a rumble and a wide grin, answering the upbeat tone of ren's voice. he's pleased with the description, that much is clear. ) That's me.

( and, the fire beginning to catch properly, crackling along the log thor sent the lightning into, he holds out his hand. ) I am Thor. God of Thunder. ( a beat. ) Hi.

[sparke]

Quite simple.

( thor keeps his voice low, but now that she's in the circle of his arms, as he wraps them around her much smaller body, she'll hear and feel the rumble of it in his chest. it's not that he's toasty warm, precisely, but far less frozen than she is. his teeth are not even chattering. )

I am Asgardian. We're a bit - ( how does he say this delicately? ) hardier than humans.