❪ 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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kathryn janeway, star trek: voyager — ota.

[directives]

I. ARRIVAL

[ she doesn't have a phaser to start a fire with, but she did manage to locate some sticks and a few stones. the fire is small and the dampness soaked into the wood from the snow prevents it from burning as hot as she would like to, but it's a start. it's better than nothing. and one of the few reasons why she's forever grateful her father dragged the entire family out on camping trips as a child. as much as she hated being away from the technological spoils of the 24th century, knowing how to rough it, so to speak, has saved her life on more than one occasion. ]

Please, [ janeway gestures to the open spots around the fire, ] sit. There's plenty of warmth to go around. No sense in hogging it all for myself.

II. PHOTOGRAPHS

[ the light is bright, almost blinding, and she stumbles back a few steps in an effort to regain her balance and clear her vision. the photographs that she's left with are a series of images from home. not all of them are terribly flattering or meant for public eye, and she does her best to gather all the pictures up before someone else does. sharing may be caring, but some things just aren't meant to be shown off — or hers to show at all. ]

III. P-P-P-POKER FACE

[ attempt to make someone with a poker face smile, you say? sure, why not. sure as hell beats going back out into the cold.

janeway volunteers to be the person donning said impassable poker face, tactfully neglecting to mention that she has some experience in that department that contributes to how well she can hold that well-controlled, hardened expression. she's playing with an unfair advantage here, and those who recognize the combadge pinned to her jacket may not need to be clued in at all.

she sits with her hands folded together neatly on the table before her, waiting for someone else to join her and rise to the challenge. ]

Alright. Let's see what you've got.

IV. WRECKAGE

[ the buddy system is great and all, but not always necessary when you've got a tricorder as a navigational guide. it alerts her not only to structural weaknesses and blockages throughout the ruinous vessel, but also to the presence of others who are also exploring the wreckage. ]

Careful— [ she calls out to whoever that lifesign ahead of her, that she can't quite see through the tangle of wires and cracked paneling hanging out of the damaged ceiling above. carefully, she steps around it, pressing her back against the wall and scooting carefully along its length until she's past the mess. ] The support beams on the deck below this one have collapsed. It's probably not long until that floor does the same.

V. WILDCARD

— drop a prompt of your choosing here or hit me up on plurk @ starfleet

[sparke]

A weretiger!

[ the only reason thor doesn't clap his hands together or gives a thumbs up or something equally embarrassing is because he's still holding the robotic pet and after having almost stepped on it, he doesn't want to also drop it.

that would be bad. so he just gives a nod, expression and tone excited. weretiger. ]

That's great! Very impressive.

[fiendennor]

[She peers at it, her curiosity piqued. It seems fairly normal. Nothing odd-looking about it.] You prepared well, then. I'm impressed by the quality of the insulation.

[It seems a little small, though...] Have you been offering everyone a drink, or just those of us looking particularly cold?

[sparke]

They probably thought it was necessary.

[ at least that's what thor got from their message. he hasn't quite managed to make sense of everything yet, but he's getting there. everything he learns makes him realise that there's a need for heroes here, too. it's something he'll gladly take upon himself — even if only part of his motivation is selfless. it's a distraction from everything else, too, and helping others makes him feel good about himself, too.

a beat, and he nods at ren's next statement. ]

You're right. We definitely shouldn't be doing that.

[ the fire is crackling now and thor stretches out his hands toward it. ] You didn't bring beer, by any chance, did you?

[sparke]

So you've heard of me. Or my father. Odin?

[ thor sounds a little more upbeat at the notion. he likes the idea of the myths. he likes knowing that his parents will be remembered beyond asgard. especially now, with so many asgardians dead, it means more than ever. ]

I've seen technology and space before.

[sparke]

It sounds like great fun.

[ thor grins, clasping axel on one shoulder. hard, but not too hard. he's learned a lot about controlling his strength about those who are probably midgardian. ]

The worst injury I've seen of this has been a bloodied nose. But there is time yet.

[sparke]

I think I've heard of this drink. It is Midgardian.

[ he nods and takes a sip. it isn't asgardian ale, but it isn't bad. he actually likes the combination of tomatoes and whatever that sharp stuff is that burns pleasantly at the back of his throat. ]

Have you asked if they serve blood? I don't think most bars do.

[ it's a little strange to expect, but between the fangs and this, well. it paints a certain picture. ]

[sparke]

It's not magic.

[ loki does magic tricks. this? this is just thor's power. this is thor being the god of thunder. but despite the correction, thor is grinning, spreading a hand and letting lightning crackle along his skin —up his arm, surrounding his head, down the other arm again.

it's little more than energy, really, but thor likes how excited kagari was by his previous display, how alight his eyes have come. ]

[sparke]

A little.

[ thor shrugs. it's mostly matter-of-factly, not trying to one-up peter. it is cold and even asgardian physiology can't protect thor from that entirely, but he's having less of a hard time than everyone else.

or so he figures, at least. ]

But it isn't too bad for me.

[sparke]

I don't. I only just woke up.

[ he gestures upward, indicating the space station somewhere in orbit still. he's only just woken up and now he's here. ]

But I have seen more than one bar fight, you're right. [ he says that with a grin and a note of pride. you don't get to grow up on asgard without watching a bar fight or two or a hundred. ]

[colorature]

Midgardian?

_{[The term has her looking a bit lost as she watches him take a swig of the cocktail. Sure, she's heard of the names of Norse gods before (who hasn't) but anything beyond that is foreign to her. That said, Diva lacks tact and sees no problem being forthcoming about her dietary uh, needs as it were.]}

I haven't, but blood is best drunk fresh from its source.

_{[She drank so much of the synthetic stuff on Thesa that she's got a craving for the Good Stuff.]}

[sparke]

Oh. Good.

[ well, not really good. if it isn't iskandar's, it belongs to someone else who might still be sad or angry that thor almost stepped on their robotic pet. he didn't mean to, though, and at least the little thing didn't actually get crushed under his boot. ]

I'll get it un-dented.

[judicia]

( Even if it is, it still wouldn't be the worst thing Anders has ever had to drink. He doesn't think it's poisoned, though, so when Scotty offers to make himself one, Anders doesn't hesitate to agree. )

That would be ideal.

( They may end up going down together anyway, depending how strong these drinks are. He can feel the disapproval swirling around in the back of his mind, at that, but Anders chooses to ignore it. )

Drinking isn't as much fun if you're doing it by yourself. I'm Anders, by the way. ( He keeps smiling, and leans against the bar. )

gamora | mcu | ota

[godslay]

i. DON’T LOSE A FINGER ( CLOSED TO PETER QUILL )

[ Gamora can handle the cold. Her body is built for extremes, and she can ignore the way the ice and snow bites at any exposed skin on her face. It’s not enjoyable, but she’s also not bothered as she sets about making a snow block for the igloo she’s currently building. The station had those helpful survival VR experiences, but Gamora has also been put through her paces in her training as an assassin, which obviously required learning how to keep herself alive in below-freezing climes.

So igloo building? Not an issue.

What is an issue is that it’s getting progressively colder and the snow seems to be getting thicker, and the shelter isn’t finished yet.

This contributes to the bigger concern at hand, which is that her companion is not made to handle extreme cold. Gamora glances over at Peter, bundled up as he is, packing together snow for the igloo. ]

How is your face?

[ She has to ask it over the sound of the wind as she adds another block of snow to the rising wall. ]

LET’S NOT AND SAY WE DID

[ Nadril is full of surprises, and simply walking past one of those odd bots produces bright, flashing lights that almost causes Gamora to reach for her sword. She blinks a few times to clear her vision, but then she actually see the photos that have been neatly produced. Only a quick glance is required for her to recognize that these aren’t images of herself walking past the bots, and that’s enough to make her pick them up.

The first is charming. It captured the moment of dancing with Peter Quill as he’s gently spun her away. She’s looking across the balcony at him, fondness on her face, an ease to her posture, and as Gamora stares down at the photograph now, a comforting warmth blooms in her chest.

The second is less so. She’s smaller, younger, without the scars etched into her face, and she’s holding onto an enormous tree with one hand… as the other throws her sister from deadly heights, to leave her in a heap on the jungle floor below.

Gamora remembers vividly how much time it took to reassemble Nebula that day. Her jaw sets, and whatever softness had crept into her eyes when she saw the picture of herself with Peter disappears as she hides the second picture behind the third.

Oh.

The third is worse.

Gamora doesn’t spend more than a heartbeat looking at the third photograph, before she’s tearing it to pieces. ]

iii. ATTEMPTED FISHING

[ You know what’s not ideal?

An alarm suddenly blaring in your ear as you’re preparing to spear a giant fish right under your feet.

The communicator earring suddenly starts shrieking at Gamora as she’s poised above a large hole in the ice, and despite her well-honed composure, she still jumps and yelps and—

—drops her spear into the water.

Her mood is clearly not great as she mutters and quickly tries to drop to her knees in time to stick her hand under the ice and catch the end of the spear. ]

iv. ( a ) UNWELCOME COMPANY

[ Gamora is exploring the Cantina, because why not? There are still plenty of things for her to see here, and considering how lively it is in the evening, she’s decided to take a look.

At the moment, someone is trying to coax her into trying some newly crafted concoction. ]

I’m not interested.

Aw, don’t be a spoilsport.

Get it out of my face, or that glass is going in yours.

iv. ( b ) ALIEN DRINKS

[ She may not have accepted that asshole’s drink, but she’s crafted one of her own – even if it doesn’t quite look like a drink.

The thing itself is shaped like a bubble, and it sits on top of a shot glass instead of inside. The bubble looks empty, aside from a pink mist that twists around.

The cheerful bartender hands Gamora a straw, and she looks from the straw to the “drink.” ]

… I’m supposed to… poke it?

v. WILDCARD

( ooc: come at me with anything! or hit me up at poprocks and we can plot!

[directives]

There may be a space station up in orbit of this world, but she's learned that not everyone hails from a world or time where space travel was a reality. Keeping that in mind, and without going into any of the sordid details surrounding Voyager being lost in the Delta Quadrant or their initial mission into the badlands to retrieve Tuvok and capture the man who now served as her first officer, the easiest answer she can provide him with is: "Research vessel. Deep space exploration."

Not a lie, but not the complete truth. She specializes in half-truths, in saying what only needs to be said withholding the rest.

"Four months can feel like a long time."

[directives]

[ how many times had chakotay said those exact words to her? too many times. all too often, she was neglecting her own needs in favor of someone else's, and that wasn't about to change just because her crew was now sleeping and out of commission. ]

Military training. I'm an officer in a peacekeeping armada.

[breadmuffs]

[Well, that is...not ideal. Caleb jerks back a little, nose wrinkling. He brings up a - dirty - sleeve to wipe at his - equally dirty - face. It's a little gross, but it isn't the end of the world. (That has...already happened.)

Still, JJ's unfortunate response doesn't deter him.]

I will take that as a yes. [Motioning him back away from the kindling.] It's imprecise sometimes, I wouldn't want to hurt you.

[Like. Seriously.]

[ayes]

[Hang on. You frowns and leans closer to her friend, taking a hesitant sniff of the liquid in the glass. Her nose wrinkles.]

--Yoshiko-chan, are you getting drunk...?

[almaredemptoris]

He passed away some years ago.

[Jean Valjean omits the detail that he had finished his years in exile in a foreign country, under close watch of a garrison and stripped of his former titles. Napoleon remains a polarizing figure in French politics but Jean Valjean has no strong opinion of him; his convictions are religious rather than political. He had of course spent the entirety of Napoleon’s reign slaving in the galleys of Toulon: what did to matter to him who led the country when his fortune was immutable?]

However, men of all eras, it seems, may awaken from the stasis into which they are put.

vermake me! also i'm verassuming x'rhun has a verhat on

[thatgoodnight]

[ As a sort of public figure back home, Noctis has experience with people he doesn't know knowing his name and such, but that's different than, well, this. Still, it's a relief that X'rhun is so graceful about it. ]

Sure. I was just on my way to a good fishing spot, though uh... if there's somewhere else you want to go, we... don't have to.

[ But he kind of hopes this guy who looks like a cat person (maybe? That tail looks so soft and fluffy, and Noct kind of wonders if there are fuzzy ears under that hat.) is down to go fishing. ]

[willrevile]

[ Absently, Jim tucks his own photo in a pocket, having no particular crazy stories to share - about that, anyway. Good thing it didn't spit out anything weird. ]

Really? [ Not leaping to any conclusions; at this point he's seen so much crazy shit out in space and here that this guy could be from ancient Greece or he could be from a dimension of the mole people where there just happens to be a Japan and a famous teacher named Aristotle. WHO KNOWS. ] He's like a.. an old philosophical figure where I'm from.

[ Ancient Earth history isn't his forte. ]

[thetaintedsorrow]

[Oh? Looks like Takasugi is more interested in an actual fight than tossing snowballs around. Heh. Good. Maybe this will be more entertaining than Chuuya thought.

Chuuya does indeed dodge with a graceful backwards leap, the telltale red aura of his ability being activated surrounding him, and though he does end up getting grabbed, his landing into the snow is a light one.]

Tch. Don’t think you can keep me down.

[Because Chuuya is going to try his damndest to flip their positions and pin Takasugi to the ground. The downside of making himself lighter is that he’s easier to throw, and there’s a decent opening for Takasugi to overpower him if he waits for it. Otherwise he’s just gonna wrestle until one of them comes out on top.]

[breadmuffs]

[Come on Ianto, your workplace has a pet dinosaur.

Caleb isn't actually particularly watching. He's so used to magic being absolutely normal that he doesn't think about people's reactions to it very much.

Ianto's clarification kind of helps him, but not completely. Spare parts, sure. What kind of parts?]

Ah, yes. I still don't what to look for, though. Our...mechanics weren't as advanced. In the world that I came from.

[Hence, the mostly magic thing. Though they do have a little bit of technology, as evidenced by the fact that Caleb recently got speared through the gut by a clockwork death thing.]

photobomb

[willrevile]

Jim spots her when he's taking his leave of one point of interest, rolling an idea around in his head about exploring more of the city - perfect, in his opinion, because he can ask her along or just say hello, if she's not interested.

"Hey," he calls, friendly-like, and half-jogs over to--

Be nearly blinded almost in tandem, a meter or so behind her. "Enough with that." Immediate complaining as Jim rubs his eyes. They're scattered around like overly fat confetti, shimmering into development. "Can't you ask like people at tourist restaurants?" The insectoid robot has no answer for him, just flits around, looking for its next victim. Grumble.

"Hi." Let's try that again, even as he crouches down to start trying to sort his own memories out, scattered in a frustratingly wide radius, overlapping.

[motivation]

[ dutch hasn't been nursing her drinks and they affect her, but years of consuming maybe too much alcohol have left her with a decent constitution and khlyen's training has seen to her knowing her limits when it comes to just about anything. she's here to drink and not think and she's been having a good enough time, passing out dares and taking wagers, losing now and again.

it's one of those losses that had brought her outside. just to run around the bar, not to stay in the cold. she's not doing that anything with the cold. not going out in the snow or putting any snow anywhere. she's still warm when she walks back into the bar and she'd like to keep it that way.

spotting james barnes walking toward her is a surprise. last she'd seen him, he was in stasis. again. for a moment, her expression brightens —and then he apologises, no indication that he knows her at all even as he leans in to kiss her. she lets him, but doesn't kiss back (much). ]

You should buy me a drink. [ she says when he draws back, very firmly. ]