❪ 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

[flask]

[And the reviews are in! Nott beams at her, sharp teeth on display.]

I'm glad that one didn't turn out to be acid!

[Is that a joke??? Probably???]

I don't usually drink fancy things. Mostly I drink whatever gets you good and drunk. This would be a first for me.

[braidedwonder]

[ There'd been a time where Duo would have been surprised to be addressed in the same way - just very different reasons. As it stood he has no reason to treat him any differently, despite all the obvious physical things that might make a person do so. ]

But why - [ He pauses, stops himself with 'bother to make you look so human' - he knows that's not the right way to word that at all, even being the street kid he is. Duo's lips purse, hands shoving in to his pockets as he rocks on to his heels and then back, sucking on his teeth as he thinks. ] - Listen, I know this is the wrong way to say it, but then why bother making your people so.. intelligent. And life like.

[ He taps his finger to the side of his head, the same as Connor's LED. ]

Not that I know what you or 'your people' are, but you take that away and I wouldn't know a damn thing if you changed your clothes from the next human over.

[ Though.. on the subject of cruel. ] .. Being cruel just seems to be the M.O. of anything with some form of intelligence. Even across worlds, if the natives back in Olympia and Wyver are anything to go by.

i actually can’t and don’t believe you 👀

[tailorable]

[ the look on her face makes him grin, wide and warm. oh, eggsy is on the verge of smug, even while being heckled. his mates have done worse, whenever he was smashed enough to pull a girl on a night out. the moment might make him miss their presence, too, if not for daisy’s quick response.

she earns a noise of surprise for making the second move (he’ll judge himself for that later, thanks: a super spy thrown off by the new girl doing him one better). instinctively, he shifts to accommodate her, dropping his hands to settle firmly on her waist and steady them both. she’s shorter, sure, but she makes a strong argument for getting on her level. with her flush against him, it’s enough to make him forget that she’s snogging him because she lost a fucking bet. hard to resist kissing her back, either — in his defence, he’d call it rising to the challenge.

their first kiss had been nice, if perfunctory, but this one’s memorable, and not just because he suddenly registers a wolf whistle piercing the background noise. ]

ATTEMPTED BONDING

[reek]

[ He does look grizzly. He isn’t dressed in quite as many layers as she is, but years in the North have adapted him to this sort of weather. White hair, just a bit too long, spills out from beneath his hood and a few fingers of his gloves don’t bend at all around his fishing pole, but his eyes are those of a young man, albeit one who has seen and experienced far too much.

He isn’t proud of his appearance. He casts a weary eye toward her, expecting an underhanded comment. He knows her, in a way, despite the fact that they’ve never met. He knows she’s Claire’s daughter. They had introduced one another to their families, though those family members had been in stasis and Theon had very few good things to say about his own. Claire had also implied he should be nice. That’s a bit more difficult for him.

You would be surprised by what a person can forget, he almost laughs, but he quickly grows quiet and reserved in the presence of another refugee, his body rigid as though he's trying desperately not to flinch away. He’s not shy, but he is skittish. ]

I’ve forgotten a lot of things.

[ His mother’s voice is lost to him, the smell and the sound of the sea is quickly disappearing, sometimes he still has trouble remembering his name. He’s a mess, and he won't mention that he doesn't know what a bicycle is. ]

Sea or stream?

[flask]

Ha! Ha! Ha!

[Nott immediately lets out some weird drunken laughter at the thought of a drink she can't drink.]

I can drink anything! My drinking name is the Bottomless Pit! You've gotten in over your head with this one!!

[With that, she grabs the awful-looking drink and knocks it back immediately, going for a chug, which she finds is completely necessary the instant the drink hits her tongue. She starts tearing up, but she's determined, and there are tears streaking down her face before long as she continues downing the terrible drink from hell.

She finishes, and slams it down on the table, gasping for air and having to take a moment, her tongue desperate to touch the cold air over than the demonic undertaking it just went through.]

Oh god... This is how I die...

[flask]

[Aha. She has the perfect cover story--]

My flask!

[She reaches into her cloak and pulls out a platinum flask, holding it up to show him.]

I was taking a drink from it before. I'm a drunk! I love liquor!

[She says this with no hint of irony or shame.]

[illuminating]

[She hadn't recognized it was him right away either. There's a confusion of scents filling her nose, all she had seen was a shape of reds and browns. Someone's gotten away from the others, whoever it may be, and she's coming to fetch them.

Unfortunately, though it'll strike her later, she forgets that they've yet to catch up, that she's been asleep for seven months or so, that she hasn't given him proper greeting. This weather isn't the place, it doesn't occur to her.

She is in, what one might call: Hard Mom mode.

She does not respond immediately, she waits until she can stand firmly before him, her fur flurried by the wind, and her gold eyes piercing.

Peter, she resonates through him, fixed and firmed, authoritative. The first time she's ever presented herself in this way to him. It's drawn out of her from concern. Continuing: Very few living things can survive out here. Don't stray. Follow me back to the others. Do you need to hold onto me?

He can grip her fur, she means. She'll walk steadily.]

human icicles

[summertimeblues]

[Richie had gotten off the leash at some point. Blame the wind gusts that were tearing through the winterlands. Even the heaviest among them was stumbling under the onslaught, and at one point Richie, with his scarecrow physique and less than stellar willpower, was blown back so hard that his clip snapped off and was carried into snowbanks beyond the horizon.

So he'd been left to follow with a hand on the rope, and that had worked until another three gusts later. Too many slips in a row and now he's gotten lost. He's sure he has. There's no telling where your piss is landing in the white-out, much less where the train of space orphans has chug-a-lugged onto.

He has found a blue-white light in the snow. A trail of them in fact. Their dim light the only thing that cuts through the blinding blanket of the storm. Richie's cradled one in his mitts and presses forward, following their light and praying that it's not some elaborate trap leading into a cannibal tribe or some other such horseshit. Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake?

But there — up ahead, isn't that shape rather-people like? Or a rock, or a yeti. Christ, he's so fucking cold that he would welcome the warmth of the beast's stomach if it would put an end to this marathon of misery. He calls out with a voice dimmed by the howl of wind and grown crackling through frigid weakness.]

Hey! You there!

[reek]

[ Theon jumps at the sound of a voice. He’s skittish and jittery, too easily frightened these days. He recovers quickly enough, but there’s still mistrust in his eyes as he turns to face the newcomer, clutching his own photographs tightly in his hand. He doesn’t want to explain them. It will only take him to a darker place, and he doesn’t want to be there right now. ]

They exist. That’s strange enough.

[ He does, however, pretend to look more closely at Yoshiko’s photograph than he actually does. He isn’t interested. He just wants to leave this place and return to his room. Perhaps Maximus has managed to get rid of that horrible AI by this point. He sees enough to make a comment, though. ]

I’ve seen her.

[ He points to You in the photograph. Not all of the fingers of his glove bend, making for an awkward gesture. He doesn’t know You, but she was among the first wave of refugees, along with him. Her network posts haven't gone unnoticed over the last year. ]

She’s been awake for as long as I have.

[fisherwife]

[Um excuse you. This is clearly fine.

She shakes her head quickly, trying to get the snow off of her headfin without having to brush it away herself (who knew they didn't make hats fit for Zora? Shocker.)]

Well. [Mipha pauses, considering this and then gives him an almost shy sort of smile] I wasn't wrong. There was no need to worry, see? [You know, because he was there to save her...]

[reek]

I was talking about both of you.

[ He hates the AI. He hates that he can’t escape it, and he hates that it does no good to insult it back, because there’s no face to insult it to.

He considers Fergus warily. His reaction to the AI had been the exactly opposite. He had agreed with essentially everything that had been said, though once upon a time, he would have fought tooth and nail against it. Gods, things change. ]

Pick better battles. It isn't worth it.

i said don't @ me.

[evite]

( with her hands gripping his jaw and his tight along her waist, whatever bet may have sent her in his direction has now, officially, been settled. the cheers and raucous laughter signal the satisfaction of her betting party, and the wolf whistle that follows only solidifies her own. yes, this one happens to be considerably better — if not just for the fact that it's been a while since daisy's kissed somebody for the hell of it and actually enjoyed herself in the process.

because, yes, if she has to admit it, the redcoat happens to be somewhat good at this. he also happens to not be pulling away, which really just means daisy can't either, because she absolutely refuses to back down in the face of a challenge. no, now it's a matter of who will give in to this public game of chicken first. who will let societal graces and politeness win out over acting a fool in a pub.

not daisy, that's for damn sure.

no, it's much more fun to let a hand slide from jaw to shoulder, fingertips gripping in as she adjusts her weight; out of her peripheral vision, daisy noticed he's slipped off his own barstool in an attempt to match her height. at least he's considerate, if not a bit cheeky with the hands. makes it just that much more of a challenge when her teeth nip at his lower lip — just a hint of a tease, really, with suppressed laughter bubbling up underneath it.

sue her, she's having a good time. )

[expiable]

[ does natasha romanoff know daisy johnson? maybe nat saw her at the hub before the fall of the first SHIELD, but daisy wasn't among the SHIELD delegates or assets involved with the sokovia accords, so it's unlikely her name rings a bell. there's a flicker of familiarity between them, sure — but nothing outstanding.

without questioning her, natasha takes the left turn. why not trust someone else's gut, when hers isn't telling her a damn thing? she's a spy, not a seer.

after a moment, she tips her head to one side, seemingly more amused than curious. ]

Sixth sense acting up?

w is for wildcard!

[ofhousetarly]

[ This world continued to fascinate Sam.

When he saw a mechanical rabbit hopping about the streets he wondered where it came from, wanting to know how it worked. He spoke to one of the natives who was more than happy to tell him - after some trouble with directions Sam eventually found himself outside the establishment, staring through the window to look at the display. Then Sam heads inside the store to take a proper gander at what was on offer .]

I wonder if they have a dragon. [ He muses, mostly to himself. ] Even a crow would be interesting.

[ Sam runs his eye down the shelves and looks for either of those creatures, hoping to find one of them. ]

Bucky Barnes | Marvel Cinematic Universe

[lednikovyy]

F R O Z E N
As they move through the cold, Bucky shifts towards the back of the group. With a path laid out, he's more concerned about those that might fall behind than who's leading the movement. Once the snowstorm starts whipping around them, he's even more glad for it. Biting as the cold feels, he can handle it and he knows that his friends can, too. It's the small and untrained among them that he keeps an eye out for.

Even in the blinding white, he's doing everything he can to try to catch anyone falling behind. It's not a perfect system, but it's better than not trying at all.

As he comes upon anyone stopped or slowed, he'll urge them on, even carry them if he has to. The idea of leaving someone to freeze in this isn't one he could live with.

Once or twice, he even loses the group, himself, but thankfully there are the lights to help him find his way again.

P H O T O
(TW: brainwashing/dehumanization)
The insect-like bots are hard to miss, but much like the rest of the technology here, it's mostly unfamiliar to Bucky and he isn't sure what to expect with most of it. The flashes are disorienting, but the pictures it gives him are even more so.

The first few pictures are of Brooklyn as he remembers it before the war. If he's honest, the image warms him a little and he thinks he should share those with his friends.

It's the next few images that make him recoil, though. Images of labs and chairs and an all-too-familiar empty cryo unit. He clenches his metal hand around the small stack in alarm, wrinkling all of the pictures, even the happier ones. He can't let anyone else see these, either, especially not anyone he knows, so he crams the stack into his pocket roughly until he can find a safe place to hide or destroy them.

After that, he decides to keep walking until he can calm himself down, pictures still a bulk in his jack with the corners sticking out.

C A N T I N A
(please no one younger than mid-20s)
For Bucky, trying to get comfortable here has involved trying to remember more of who he'd been before. It's not like he hadn't been tough and competent to begin with. He'd enlisted during wartime and he'd always done more than alright for himself socially and even if that life seems so far away now, he knows that he has to remember more of it if he really wants to remember how to live at all.

That's what bring him to the cantina to nurse a drink that he knows won't affect him and that's what gets him better on a sport he only sort of understands in the first place. The stakes, from what he's seen, have been mostly harmless and he'd never been the kind of guy to walk away from a challenge before.

Of course he loses several bets and gets dared to do several uncomfortable but ultimately harmless things, from chugging a mystery drink that tastes like hot peppers and marshmallow to putting a handful of snow down his pants. The drinks might not be hitting him, but he's drunk on the spirit of having a good time. It's been a long time since he was able to feel like this. Decades.

It's the next dare that almost has him balking, though. He has to kiss the next person who walks in the door.

He waits and when he approaches them, it's with an apologetic laugh. "Sorry 'bout this." The lean in is slow enough to be entirely rebuffed or redirected to a cheek and if it's allowed to connect, it's an innocent enough kiss, at least from Bucky's end.

M I S S I O N
Getting the parts is clearly worth it, even if Bucky isn't sure who he should give his findings to yet. He'll have to ask around more, get a feel for how others have seen this place and how much he can trust their judgment in the first place. The Natha have promised him something that he knows he needs to live, but he's still not sure that they can even really deliver. Besides, plenty of bad people offer good things as incentive. He won't take it at the cost of others.

This is clearly not a job for one, but Bucky's pretty sure he counts for more than one and he sets out to explore the wreckage by himself, anyway. He's got rations, several layers and his rifle strapped to his back and if he gets trapped somewhere he's got no one to blame but himself. He'll keep an eye out for others in danger, but he's just not used to having backup anymore, himself.

He climbs into a large hole in the wreckage believing himself to be alone, but the wind masks a lot of sound and there are plenty of places to hide in a place like this. He's aware enough that he might have been follow or that someone could be in the space ahead, but he hasn't noticed anyone. Yet.

W I L D C A R D
[ Hit me at blauren or by PM if you want to do something else specific. ]

[shashka]

So something more along the lines of chemistry than actual "magic".

[ though she might not know what that is either, given what she says next. this is also something he's used to, given his year long friendship with Anders, and what he's been able to glean about his world. ]

Don't worry. I know my way around most of the tech here well enough. Some of it's more advanced than I'm used to, but it looks easy enough to figure out.

[ don't ask him the intimate details on how it works, though. there's a reason he's an "e" rank in r&d. ]

[shashka]

[ it's a testament to their friendship that he's no longer making any effort to hide his annoyance. they're close enough that he knows that he can trust the other man. ]

Please do.

[ with any luck, whatever Anders does will result, at the very least, in the machine's suffering. if he dares hope, it'll be rendered permanently inactive in a state of perpetual suffering. ]

You want to get some fresh air once you're done?

[ they're both on edge, and he could honestly do with getting out of this small room too. after all, his anger with the Natha about leaving DD behind still has yet to subside. ]

[flask]

Sure. Chemistry...

[Yeah, if someone wanted to turn metal into other metals, that'd be Caleb's job. He's the transmutation wizard here. At least Nott can identify metals.

But when he reassures her, she nods.]

So your idea is basing it on fire whiskey and vodka?

[illuminating]

Hello, [the voice inside her, that she can't produce into real vocalization transforms into his ear again. Repeating. If for no other reason than that she is thrilled. This one has a more personal note, it's not just for anyone, it's for him.

She's approaching, soft steps, claws faintly clacking. Her eyes convey her heart, all a-glitter.]

You can hear me easily. [Gentle observation, like she can't shake the wonder of it, like she might be clenching her breath. Can he believe it? Thoughts like hers can be spoken into his ear. Her nose is already trying to reach for his knuckles out of subconscious habit. Out of the greetings she's better accustomed to.]

[shashka]

Sure. Something to really knock the other competition out of the water, so to speak.

[ after all, if you're drunk from half a cup of the stuff, you can't exactly create a better drink, now can you. ]

We could throw in a few other spices as well. "Kick" it up a little.

[ you know... for not being a father, he certainly made a couple of really bad dad puns there. ]

[shashka]

That's one way of putting it.

[ he sounds annoyed more than anything else, as though the dragon was a particularly persistent rat. ]

Awfully thoughtful of the Natha to "save" us again, even if they left some of us behind.

[ ...is he still bitter about his dog being frozen in time? he's still bitter about his dog being frozen in time. ]

Chuuya Nakahara | Bungou Stray Dogs

[thetaintedsorrow]

I. Let the Storm Rage On...

[Thanks to a gift from the Natha, Chuuya is able to keep from freezing to death in the snowstorm, and while visibility still sucks, he can at least endure long enough to make it to their destination. Until the effect wears off, then he’ll need to hustle like everyone else.

Funnily enough his hat stays on despite the harsh winds, so it’s easy to tell exactly who he is if he comes across anyone that knows him. Not to mention the fiery red hair, which is visible even in the thick of storm. It helps to give people who might’ve gone snowblind something to fix their eyes on if they lost sight of the guiding lights. Or maybe someone might choose to walk beside him simply for the company.

If he happens to come across any refugees struggling to make it through, or are perhaps in serious danger of hypothermia, he’ll stop and offer to help.]

Here. Take this pin. It’ll keep you warm.

II. The Prompt Everybody Expected

[You can bet that Chuuya will make his way to The Frosty Tap Cantina the second he hears about it, and once he sees the self-service bar his plans for the evening are decided. The variety of new alcohols and mixers is astounding, and there’s no way he’s not gonna play around with some molecular mixology to try and come up with the most creative drink for the contest. He’s open to suggestions, and of course he’ll be mixing all kinds of other drinks on the side, so why not join him?

He’ll totally offer you a free sample of the drink he’s thinking of entering into the contest, too! It’s...bright red and bubbling and putting off a little smoke...are you brave enough to try it?]

I call it “Kissed By Fire”, guaranteed to warm you right up. C’mon, try it!

III. Won’t You Take Me Home?

[The photograph that Chuuya receives from the insectoid robots isn’t a happy, nostalgic picture of Yokohama like you’d expect. Instead it’s a picture of a sizable crater in the earth, with Chuuya standing in the middle. But he doesn’t quite look like himself; in fact he looks deranged, almost demonic in appearance, and it’s clear from how he stares at it that it wasn’t an image he was expecting to see.]

Tch. Figures I’d get something like this.

IV. Taking On Gravity

[Outside of the times when he’s drinking or looking for spare parts for the station you might just catch Chuuya playing in the snow like a child. They didn’t often get much in Yokohama, and even if they did he very rarely got a chance to enjoy it.

Wanna challenge him to a snowball fight? Too bad, because there’s a rather large chunk of snow being hurled at you whether you like it or not.]

Dodge!

V. Wildcard

[Wanna do something else entirely? HMU at arcanestardust and we can plot!]

[shashka]

Huh. You probably were from a lot further ahead in the future than I was. All we've managed so far are a few small rovers.

[ not that it's particularly surprising. he's met plenty both before, and after his time. as to his other question... ]

You can call me "Ocelot".

[ it's what almost everyone else does, save for one or two people safely up in stasis. ]

[pebblestone]

[ Is being a drunk really a better cover story than being a thief? Probably, there are no laws against being a drunk.

Nott: 1. Frederick: 0.

But he remains unwilling to budge, eyebrows pulling down even further at this most ludicrous proclamation. A drunk? This thing? Also he's pretty sure that wasn't at all the same shape as whatever she'd stuffed in her pockets but it's fine. He can try and poke holes in this new story. ]

Are you even old enough to partake of liquor?

[ What is the legal drinking age for goblins anyway. ]

[flask]

Wow. That's a lot of puns.

[Excuse her for a moment, she needs to recover.]

We could probably try to really play up the "fire" aspect. You know, visually. I feel like how they look is half the spirit of the competition. A drink beauty contest...

[And she won't even have to pull out her alchemists' kit; everything is set up for them here!]