#don't feel obligated to match it.

[asherbaudelaire]

Closed Starter for @mayarparker Setting: The Morning After *****

This is not his phone.

It's the realization seeping far too slowly through his hungover, mildly dehydrated brain as he sits upright on the sofa where he'd passed out after getting home from yet another eventful night out a few hours ago. Asher blinks the groggy sleep from his eyes, head pounding as he turns the device over in his hand and tries to focus on the details. It's the same model as his phone; similar case, too. But this is not his phone. This is not his phone.

It buzzes again. Asher sits up a little more, pushing the tousled hair from his face as he tries to recall what drunken shenanigans last night might have led to such a predicament. He'd gone to that dive bar a few streets over after work. Not unusual. Shots were 2-for-1 on Thursdays. There was a woman partaking of the same, who had joked she could drink him under the table. That was how it started. Isn't it always? Somehow they had ended up in the bathroom together, and--Oh. His eyes go wide.

Oh...

"Fuck." Asher breathes, wincing as a flush of heat rises to his cheeks. Now he remembers. "Fuckin' Hell..." He feels the telltale churning in his stomach and reaches for the small garbage can he keeps beside the sofa, worried he's about to hurl. He's certain the nausea isn't only from the alcohol; this is not good. What if--were either of them sober enough to consider precautions? He doubts it. Fucking a stranger in a filthy bar bathroom is one thing. It happens. Potentially infecting an innocent woman with lycanthropy is entirely another. He doesn't even know her name. Panic sets in full-force, and Asher doubles over to retch into the garbage bin. There's a moment of clarity in the wake of it. They'd been in such a hurry as they scrambled to grab their things and go; the phones must have gotten mixed up...which means if he has her phone, then she has his.

Asher snatches the woman's phone off the cushion beside him and dials his own number. It rings, and rings, and rings, until finally he hears the receiver pick up the line.

"Hello?? Please don't hang up..."

#[greywood rp :: thread :: asher baudelaire] #[asher f2f :: maya parker :: 001] #//Please don't feel obligated to match length #//This is mostly just setup! #tw alcohol

[vivalavillain]

{Closed starter for @pleinsdemuses.}

Warmth.

That was the first thing he noticed as he was thrust out of the portal leading to a spot somewhere outside the podunk town of Puente Antiguo. It was a strange thing to notice first, made stranger still by the fact that it contrasted so wholly with the frigid temperatures of that Between place that always consumed him between jump points. Portal-hopping was fairly high on the list of things he despised but, as a warning voice in the back of his mind reminded him, it was necessary. He had a mission, after all, and nothing could get in the way of it.

Looking down at himself, the god of mischief realized he was woefully overdressed for his intentions. Cloth tunic, leather pants and armor, a billowing cloak, golden horns. He'd arrived on Earth with all the splendor of an Asgardian Prince and while it was what made him most comfortable and felt the most natural, it was likely to draw too much attention. Then again...

Perhaps that was his way in.

The woman he sought-- that bright spot in the universe for his mad, fool brother, Thor-- would likely be drawn in by someone claiming to be Asgardian and dressed in the finery of that culture. The horns were a bit much, he supposed. He didn't want to frighten the mortal away, after all. So, it was the first to go, squirreled away into that place where all things go that were Hidden and Kept.

Bending to one knee, he spat into his palm and scooped a bit of the red earth beneath him into his moistened palm and mixed the two elements together. He took the first two fingers of his other hand and smeared the substance across his forehead, his right cheek, and down the right side of his neck. With just a touch of magic, the thin layer of mud turned redder until it appeared as blood. Satisfied that this disguise was passable enough for his purposes, he straightened and marched his way towards the little town.

It took less than hour for the first outcropping of buildings to rise against the horizon and less time than that for him to find himself just outside the view of the local diner. As he neared the establishment, he began dragging one leg in the dirt as though limping, stumbling his way through the front door. He looked around in a panic, breathing heavily as he dragged his way to the counter where a shocked server stared at him in confusion.

"Please..." He started, coloring his voice with pain and desperation. "I have to... find Jane." Collapsing onto his knees, he gripped an empty stool at the counter for dear life as one of the patrons ran to his aid. "Jane Foster... tell her..." He groaned weakly, stretching a pathetic hand out toward the server. "Tell her... Thor..." And with that, he collapsed entirely to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

#There are no men like me. || Avengers Loki #I apologize for how long this took to get to you. #Please don't feel obligated to match my length. #pleinsdemuses

[generalofthenorth]

Starter for @ariveth​

     The journey south to Bruma from Solitude was a long one. Long and miserably cold. They may have been back in Cyrodiil, but Tullius had nearly forgotten that the northern city was a little piece of Skyrim, from the weather to the buildings to the people that lived there. It almost felt as if he was still there. Except that Solitude never seemed to get this cold, and it certainly didn't have a constant snowy slush that his horse had to trudge through as they entered the city.

     Legionnaire boots splashed in the filthy mixture of snow and mud as he and his little entourage dismounted their horses. Tullius reluctantly handed his mare's reins to a stable hand and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as he watched them lead her away, well aware that he would enjoy himself far more caring for her than rubbing shoulders with nobles and other high-ranking Legion officials at the party to welcome all of their arrivals. And to add to his souring mood, it appeared they were some of the last to arrive, which meant little time to himself before a long night of socializing.

     He could see others already entering the castle, all in fine clothing and all most likely nobles. Whether they were local or not, Tullius had no idea. Not that he cared all that much when he knew he would be doing his very best to avoid most of them. He briefly scanned the nobles gathering when somewhere in the crowd, someone caught his eye. It wasn't her dark hair or purple skin unique to Dunmer that nearly stopped him in his tracks but the brief flash of her striking and familiar face. It wasn't her. It couldn't be. What in Oblivion would the little thief be doing in Bruma anyways? And what were the chances that it would be at the same time as him?

     Tullius did his best to discretely look for the woman he had seen as they followed the group of nobles into the castle, all the while telling himself that he was wrong, that it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. And when he couldn't spot her again, he figured his doubts were correct and reluctantly brushed it off as wishful thinking. Not that he wanted her there. Absolutely not.

     He tried to put the unsettling sighting out of his mind as they entered the castle and were quickly greeted, separated from the incoming crowd, and led to their quarters. Tullius, being a General, was fortunate enough to be offered a private room, though it was a little too ornate for his taste. Not that he was really complaining. A little peace and quiet would be nice for once. He put away the few belongings he had brought with him and made himself presentable with the exception of his mud-splattered boots. Those would require more time when he had a moment and, unfortunately, he had a party to get to. So, with even more reluctance than when he had handed off his horse, he finally dragged himself out of the room.

     Parties were not Tullius' strong suit. The constant conversations and polite nodding he had to do were exhausting. Gods, he wished he could tell all of them how much he truly despised listening to them and their opinions. As if any of these soft-handed nobles knew anything about war or how to win one. His night became even more miserable when one of his fellow generals appeared out of thin air to drag him into a conversation he desperately did not want to have. The other man was short and portly, without even knowing him, Tullius would have been able to guess his appointment wasn't because of his skill in battle. A fact that did little to brighten his mood, especially when the other general had no qualms telling Tullius how he would be handling things had the emperor chosen him instead. It was then, as the other general blathered on and Tullius did his best to politely ignore the other man's words and find something, anything, more interesting to focus on, that he once again saw her.

     This time there was no mistake. This wasn't a brief glimpse like last time. This wasn't his eyes playing tricks on him. No. Standing across the hall, looking far more put together than the last time they had... spoken, was without a doubt the little Dunmer thief. If he hadn't already had the pleasure of meeting her, she would have looked like any other pretty-faced, well-dressed noble enjoying herself among the mixture of dignitaries and higher-ranking Legionnaires. She would have blended in, and no one would have been the wiser about her true intentions. Because there wasn't a chance in Oblivion, she was here for just a party.

     Suspicion and distrust overshadowed his current misery, and Tullius found himself keeping a close eye on her. Determined not to lose sight of her again, he seized an opportunity to escape the one-sided conversation and abruptly excused himself from the other generals' presence. He didn't know if she had spotted him at this point, weaving through the party guests with eyes locked onto her, but hopefully not. Because if she wanted to escape, he had no doubts she would find a way in a large room as crowded as this and with as many exits as this one had.

#ariveth #rp - thievery and music #this is... a tad longer than I meant it to be #please don't feel obligated to match this monstrosity

[mutatedangels-a]

@someotherdog // soap x ingrid // original ( x )

It could be our destruction too, though.

And it very well could be.

We could still back out.

And they very well could.

But the expanse behind him was emptying, and it would be empty soon. The little food supply they had in their quadrant wouldn't last them more than a week, maybe two, if they rationed to the extreme. The power was practically limitless when put in the context of the duration of their survival. In other words, the lights and the bits and the electronic hums would definitely outlive them. If he could only tell her what he saw when he woke up and surveyed the area—the emptied, not empty cot—then maybe she would want to move forward, move away, as much as he did.

Soap decided to only nod, eyes flitting to the panel. Its interface of lines thrummed delicately, anticipating Ingrid's next movement.

When she did place her hand on it, the interface faded to white, now reading 'AUTHORIZING...' and blinking every so often. He half-wondered what would have happened if he did this when he first woke up. Would the entrance bot even recognize the map of his palm?

There was a hiss.

Then, that same artificial voice: "Access granted. Have a nice day, Ms. Sergeant."

The gargantuan white doors leading into the main bay groaned, as if they were a giant waking up after a long slumber. After a moment, they slid to one side, unveiling a dark chasm. There was no telling yet whether the main bay was empty, or emptied.

In a regular instance the main bay would be teeming with life, ship crew members moving about each quadrant checking on sleeping passengers. In the past there wouldn't be many members up, but that was before space travel was perfected and big wigs found out a way to bend time. To no longer need to put everyone in cryosleep for the length of the trip because they'd be there in a couple of weeks' time. Passengers were only under because for them, it was less about the journey and more about the destination. Ingrid and Soap didn't need to be awake, so they had the luxury of sleeping.

In his line of sight there was, first, a source of light coming from the left. He wasn't sure what it was, but it reflected on the dark steel interiors of the main bay, from the grates to the panels to the hard seating closer to the center of the bay. They must have opted for the opposite of the quadrants' stark white appearance because of the second source of light coming from above. Soap didn't stick his head in yet, but he just knew: There was a large, round window overhead that gave the main bay a glimpse of the space that surrounded them.

From experience, Soap also knew: When they were near a star, it felt like daytime. When they were traveling in nothingness, it felt like nighttime, and that's when the entire ship went to sleep. When they were near a moon, it was an in-between; a transitory part of day when all was quiet on the ship but no one was resting, except for the passengers.

Stepping out into nothing, Soap held his rifle firmly. It was the same thing as moving out with the squad on any other mission, except this time he was alone and he was the leader, not lingering behind. The weight of being at the front felt like a rock in his throat, but he wasn't scared. He just bore the responsibility.

He tried to map out, in his mind, just how big the main bay was. After days of sleep that memory of his was cloudy. It frustrated him. They had crossed enough of the bay, Soap silent, to see the source of light he'd noticed earlier on the left. It was a large, thick, snake-like cord dangling from the ceiling. Maybe at one point it was wiggling with life and electricity but now, it hung lifeless. It was cut in half, its fraying ends drooping onto the floor, a puddle of grease forming underneath it. Its ends dripped, perhaps once every five seconds like a leaky faucet, into the puddle. Every now and then it zapped with light as if a moth or fly had flown into it and became its prey.

"Don't touch it."

Suddenly a gurgling sound—as if someone was choking on something—came from behind them, interrupting the silence. Soap snapped around, holding his rifle up to the sound, which grew louder and louder as the seconds passed. And eventually, it sounded as if this something was choking on something thick, maybe their own blood, a material that could elicit a warbled gurgling. It wasn't hollow like the sound of someone choking on water or maybe being choked by an arm.

Its footsteps were equally wet. Slow and yet, purposeful. Walking towards them. Soap's grip on his gun and finger on the trigger were ready. The light from the sagging cord flashed. Then darkness. A flash. Then darkness.

A moment later the light gave way to a horrific vision: a human-like body with bones that seemed to outgrow its own shape. Mangled toes stuck out of its legs where its shins would be and in place of its feet were talon-shaped branches of bloated flesh. Then darkness. A flash. Its arms were no longer arms but instead resembled scythes, pointed right at Soap and Ingrid. They were covered in blood. Then darkness. A flash. Its face, was shifted where its right shoulder should be, leaving a headless neck bone fragmented and sprouting out of a 7-foot torso.

It seemed to have seen them. That was when its footsteps grew faster and, in place of its gurgling, it let out a shriek. A wretched screech that, at the same time, felt strained. At once it sounded like someone calling for help and someone wanting to rip them to pieces. Soap didn't want to wait to find out.

"Stay behind me!" he hollered to Ingrid as he fired a round into the creature's torso. When that didn't seem to stop it or even make it stumble in the slightest, Soap started walking backwards, not daring to take his eyes off it. He shot at the creature's feet, and there, the mutated tissue and weak cartilage blew off. The creature fell on its stomach on the floor and crawled at them, slowing down. They were almost backed into a corner now, but at this distance Soap had a clear view of the creature's head. He shot at its face, its blood splattering all over the floor. It slowed down almost completely, and from it came this rancid smell of rotten, rotting flesh.

Not wanting to waste another bullet, Soap dared to take a step closer. If only to see this thing up close. He brought his boot down roughly on the creature's skull and it squished under his sole. Its spine, exposed where its head was supposed to be, twitched ever so slightly.

Then it died.

#someotherdog #c. soap #soap x ingrid #v. in space no one can hear you scream #this got long your honor #please don't feel obligated to match length!!!

[howthesleeplesswander]

surprise starter for @greedbent because Baizhu saw my other muses bothering his "secret" crush and refused to be left out 😤

"I have a prediction. Would you like to hear it?" Changsheng's voice floated into the front room of the pharmacy from somewhere up in the rafters. She hadn't shown herself once since he'd begun work that morning; Baizhu had assumed she'd been with Qiqi or Gui.

"Well, don't leave me in suspense," the doctor replied airily. Faced with a break in patients for the afternoon, Baizhu had begun filling prescriptions. Even while conversing, practiced hands moved of their own accord: one adding leaves and petals from the trays of mint and qingxin beside him to a large medicinal cauldron, while the other worked the milky substance within beneath a starsilver pestle.

Naturally though, Changsheng did exactly that. He'd nearly forgotten she'd said anything by the time she divulged her 'prediction.' "Sssomething tellsss me that today isss about to get interesssting."

Baizhu hummed, attention fixed on his work. "Oh? What makes you say that?"

Her answering snicker came from directly above him. He paused as Changsheng dropped onto his shoulders so he wouldn't spill anything. "You'll sssee sssoon enough," was all she said as she adjusted her coils, and the doctor shook his head fondly. With her affinity for the vague and riddled, sometimes Baizhu wondered if his companion wasn't some long-lost adeptus in disguise.

Minutes passed with only the scrape of the pestle along the cauldron's base to fill the silence. Then footsteps sounded on the stairs leading up to the pharmacy—but there was something...unique about them. Not just a rhythmic tap-tap of shoes on pavement, but with an additional tone layered in unison. Metal on stone. Tap-tapclink.

That could only mean...

Ah. Well, in all fairness, Changsheng was rarely wrong about these things.

Baizhu didn't look up until the steps arrived in the entryway. To anyone else, the sight of a man clad in all black, gazing into their shop with such intent, sharp eyes may be cause for alarm. But Baizhu simply smiled, hands pausing to give his newfound visitor his undivided attention.

"Why, Kaz, what a pleasant surprise. How nice to see you." Likely not a sentiment heard often, but it was entirely sincere. He pointedly ignored Changsheng's muttered 'I told you' that tickled his ear. "Is there something I can do for you? Oh—unless you're here for your 'prescription'?"

The code word was second-nature despite there being no one else in the pharmacy to overhear. With a grin so pleasant adorning his features, the doctor certainly appeared to be speaking of a legitimately prescribed medication, rather than the special-ordered poison that currently sat fermenting on his kitchen counter. "It's nearly finished, but I'm afraid it needs another hour or so to infuse for maximum...potency." There was a dark edge to the chuckle that rolled in his chest. "We must be sure it's strong enough to take care of the problem, mustn't we?"

#greedbent #《⭒✩⭒ || interaction: mortally coiled (baizhu) 》 #asfjdfdf surprise dear! I hope you don't mind! ;w;/ ❤️ #kaeya and childe: (bothering kaz) #baizhu: (gay hand on chest) eXCUSE ME GET IN LINE #KAZ WILL NEVER BE SAFE FROM ANY OF MY MENACES AND I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL OF THEM 😂 #but ahhhhHHHH I love these two beautiful shady boys so much B))) #I hope this set-up works okay! #I didn't want to leave it all up to you to figure out why kaz is there ofc #so I figured maybe he could be picking up something shady 👀 #BUT I also wanted to leave it open for you to do whatever you wanted so! #if you'd rather give kaz a different reason to be there feel free! >3</ #I gotta come up with a tag for these two still (steeples fingers) #also sorry this got so long aslfksdj AS IF YOU'RE NOT USED TO THAT BY NOW 8'))) #plz don't feel obligated to match length ofc!! ❤️

[ofmoonlily]

@candlexxofxxlife plotted starter!

Mismatched irises flutter open as her head craned slightly back to peer at the towering, armor clad figure standing directly before her. At first, she mistook the silhouette for nothing more than an iron giant about to pounce while her allies closed in on her from either side.

Unfortunately, these people were not her trusted guardians. The rough handling of her delicate body, hoisting her up in a violent tug drew a pained noise from the summoner. Confused, angry chatter suddenly bursts in the hall, as oddly appearing leather wrapped men pointed and shouted, claiming Yuna had been a spy sent to assassinate this 'Zenos'.

Yuna was tired, weak, exhausted from the previous battle she endured prior to happening on this realm. She couldn't hope to defend herself, if not physically or verbally. Nevertheless, she registered everything they were saying, but her body wanted rest. She silently prayed they would escort her into her assigned cell and allow her proper sleep until she could figure out how to reunite with her guardians again.

In fact, how in the world did she come across this…temple? No. Prison? Not likely…

Wait. Where…was she?

Realizing she could not recognize her surroundings, Yuna forced her eyes to remain open, focusing on the long haired blond, fixing her attention on every feature of his face to put together a semblance of familiarity.

Alas, she did not recognize him.

Who was he?

Where were Wakka and Lulu? Kimahri? Rikku? Tidus, Sir Auron? Where was anybody?

Were they captured by the Bevelle warrior monks? Were these people in association with the temple? Was this some sort of underground prison they had all been escorted to face their punishment?

That would mean her guardians were somewhere in the building. Right?

"…Where….where… am I?" Yuna's fragile, and very dazed voice finally speaks beneath the loud yammering between guardsmen and soldiers, her body finally shaking off her sleep-deprived state due to the unrecognizable atmosphere. Everything here…was all wrong.

Where were Yevons scriptures? The commandments of the fayth? The cloister of trials safety precautions? More importantly, where in Spira were her guardians?

#candlexxofxxlife #v: crossover #//hope this is ok! lmk if I need to change anything! #//and don't feel obligated to match length #//had to set the scene somehow xP

[solarisgod]

The tension from the chase still haven't left xyr shaken body, even though they are in a safe space together for the past few minutes. Back in Father Lucas' home, Micah closely analyzes the being who calls themself the Doctor. Their existence seems to be beyond Human or Supernatural─ ancient and celestial, a significant speck that holds the endless storms and stars of time and space. Micah is fascinated by them, though, finding that xe isn't the first Antigod that they have met, xe can't help but be cautious. Antigods is a covert species. Most beings don't just know. "Who were the first two Antigods that you met?" Micah softly inquires the Doctor, sipping xyr mug of hot chocolate that Father Lucas offered before leaving them alone, a seeking in comfort.

"Again, I deeply apologize about the trouble." The 3D sentient shadows that ran after both the Doctor and xemself before they've stumbled upon each other, Micah soon slaughtering them with xyr swords. Xe notices a quiver of xyr hand in anxiety and sets the mug on the kitchen table, takes a chocolate piece from the tray. The offer still stands for the Doctor if they wish to eat some sweets. "There's been a several months worth of ongoing incident in some countries where these shadows and reflections became sentient and engaged in invasive behaviours to their sources." Since the Doctor isn't a Human, xe can explain these confidential details to them. Xe isn't working with Break Beyond Force anymore, so xe can't always hide anymore.

"Then they became more malicious over time. It's... how that chase happened." Despite the fact that there's so much that xe can do in times like this, guilt bleeds into xyr voice, everywhere. Micah flinches at the burning in xyr eyes and wipes the tears. Xyr Awareness has been blocked so xe wouldn't know their origin out of respect. Yet, now, if the Doctor can sense what xe is, Micah can at least ask @tenfoldrage this.

"If I may ask, Doctor, what are you, exactly?"

#TENFOLDRAGE #/// #// #/ #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ IC . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ V : MAIN / ACT I.VI. . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ MICAH . › #[ DENISE!!! :3333 GRABS YOU AND THE DOCTOR AND SQUEEZES LIKE SQUEAKY TOYS!!!!!!! >>>>:3333 ] #[ PLEASE LEMME KNOW IF YOU NEED ANY CHANGES / ADDITIONS ] #[ and do not feel obligated to match length ; just wanna give some specific details for you to cover over <3 <3 <3 ] #( also in case you don't remember since we plotted this a while back ; Doctor met Angelparadox and then Detective Strange :3 ] #[ gosh I'm soooo excited for thisbhgksdgb LET'S GOOO ]

[dutybcrne]

Kaveh definitely wants at least one child of his own. Partially to continue his family line, partially bc he himself loves the idea of having a family of his own. He would however like to move out of Alhaitham’s place before he even dares consider getting a partner to begin with. And the longer he stays there, the more stress he feels thinking about it. He even has sketched out nursery ideas and plans on how to raise them all set to go, if only he'd get out of debt fast enough-

Furina also really wants to have a child of her own. She adores seeing the families around Fontaine, and has dreamed a great deal what parenthood would be like. Nothing brings her joy than when children about Fontaine invite her to join in on the little games they are playing, leaving her giddy and smiling bright as sunshine on her way home. Of course she knows that to be a parent, she really has to get her shit together. One can't just rear a child on macaroni and residual payments, after all.

#hc; kaveh #//Mans is stressing #//He’s like ‘I’m damn near pushing 30; I should have my life together by now aaAAAA’ #//Do like the idea of Haitham & Kaveh coparenting though #//Them raising a kid together; be it romantically/qp involved or just like #//Some Full House situation type beat lol #//Haitham does like helping kiddos learn after all. And it would make SO much a lot easier for Kav #//Kaveh would preferably want an even number of kids if he has a partner; so they don't ever feel lonely #//If it's just him & his kiddo; then yeah; he's a little more fine w only one. But he really wants them to have someone to fall back on jic #hc; furina #//She's had thoughts of having children of her own for damn near 500 years #//Which she knew would be Impossible; her role came first and foremost #//But now that she's free from that obligation; the thoughts came welling back up #//It's not entirely why she wants to stand on her own right and get better at so many things; but it is part of it #//She'd love the idea of having her own little family at last #//Though her Salon Solitaire buddies will have to do djbhgjfd #//She doesn't actually know how many she wants tho; maybe one if she's single; but whatever her partner is down for; she would be too #//She would be such a doting mom hjcbffg #//She genuinely wouldn't even mind not having a partner if it came down to it. She will most certainly be able to handle a kiddo on her own #//She thinks that; yet she also most certainly get overwhelmed Real quick at first #//Esp since she'd be such a sympathetic crier when it comes to her babu. & bc she already feels the urge to cry when frustrated #//But she would try her best #//Would absolutely consult with The Gals each and every time she needs anything #//Deffo would be the type to get matching outfits for her and her kid jffghh

[brittlefcrged]

@fallsekings

In the short time that she'd been in the city, she'd kept to herself as much as she could -- it was jarring to her senses to be surrounded by the living, and the last thing she wanted to risk was having an episode, or being caught talking to someone that no one else could see. She'd tried to make sure that someone else interacted with the other people she'd met, especially those that had been doing her intake, before directly responding to anyone where she could, just to be on the safe side. She'd rather be perceived as shy or nervous for the time being than being dubbed the crazy girl all over again.

She hadn't been a big fan of the medical examination even if she understood the need for it but the almost hot shower and clean clothes she'd been given had almost made up for it. She'd been as honest as she felt comfortable with during the whole process - answering the questions about where she'd come from and how she'd found the city were relatively easy; she'd just left out the fact that the people that had told her about the city were either dead or nonexistent. The room that she'd been given as temporary housing was nicer than any place that she could clearly recall having stayed in in ... years, probably, by this point, and she'd been relieved to find that she'd slept fairly soundly despite the unfamiliar surroundings.

Though she hadn't yet been given a work assignment or given permission to wander about the city, she had been given the bundle of wood that she'd requested, which she was currently in the process of stripping and shaping into cylindrical sticks to the best of her ability. She made sure to save every shaving and scrap, intending to shave them all down to make paper once she'd scrounged or made the rest of the tools she'd need for that. The sticks themselves would be charcoal, eventually - assuming they'd let her near fire anytime soon. The pen knife that she used was probably not the best tool for the task at hand, but seeing as she wasn't allowed anything bigger? It would have to do.

She sat on the floor of the bedroom with the small pile of completed sticks to one side, cross legged, back resting against the bed with the door left open so that she'd see him coming. His shadow preceded him, and she paused in mid motion, her gaze tilting up to study him and see how much of what she saw matched what her mind's eye had filled in. The eyepatch. The bright blue eye. The wrinkles at the edges of his eyes and forehead. The wariness and grief hidden in the shadows of his features. "You must be the Governor," she said, carefully folding the small knife closed and setting it next to her before brushing off a few loose edges of broken bark and shavings and making her way upright. "I'd introduce myself, but I expect you already know everything there is to know about me." A half smile, almost amused.

#IC. #VERSE. ( twd. ) #FALLSEKINGS #FALLSEKINGS. ( the governor. ) #don't feel obliged to match #i got carried away #<3 #REESE & THE GOVERNOR. #STARTER.

[truly-quirkless-a]

[@emerald-might | Plotted a starter!]

"...there are a lot of things I don't share with the general public, kid..." Yagi exhaled. His hand trailed away from the tea-maker, watching it without raising his gaze. Young Midoriya had already surprised him a few times...so he supposed it was only fair he surprise the kid in turn- but this...would definitely be out there.

"I didn't just drag you back here to enjoy lunch- though that would help." A calm atmosphere. That was all he could employ to aid in this minor discovery. Like many things about All Might, for years there had been speculations...that his power had once been weaker than it was now. Not in the normal sense- in a sense that had him tugging subconsciously at his suit's sleeve.

He'd left his phone on the coffee table- face-up so he could read any notifications that might come through. It was...strange, with young Midoriya. He had shared an integral secret of his life- something so few knew, that he kept hidden for so long...and now here he was, offering another one to the kid- though the precise 'why' was beyond him. Maybe- he just liked not having to keep things hidden, anymore. Not having to keep every secret wrapped up in a tight ball in his throat, refusing to let him breathe.

He gently moved a cup under the tea-maker's spout, letting the concoction fill the cup below- before holding it out to the teen. An offer that the youth could accept or refuse, if he wanted.

"....I'm sure you've heard the story," He did seem like a pretty big fanboy, after all- but still. "--about how the world-famous 'All Might' didn't have a soulmate, yes?" It was too dangerous...the universe had painted a target on their back- as he had painted a target on young Midoriya, by giving him One for All.

#emeraldmight #Through many battles/I have been tested/I’ve never failed/Never have been bested | Toshinori Yagi #i won’t compromise/you must be out of your mind | closed starter #//lemme know if you want anything changed! #//away I yeet! #//and of course don't feel obligated to match length or anything #//I tiptap #But I’m still on a mission/And I can’t let nobody stop me now | Thread Start

[talesofourworlds]

It was not like he was evading any form of entertainment or celebration, but he feels like a sore thumb in these situations--what to do? All his life (young that is) he was just surviving; fighting and running to protect Shirley. Guess now he has to get accustomed to this slow paced life. No more.. fighting huh. His eyes wandered around the familiar faces, some dancing, some drinking, etc. There was one person who seemingly in the same position as him--clueless to what to do. Sigh ... Chloe ..she's a girl; she should know what to do right? Or at least do something... heck if he knows what people should do now so why he excepts her to do the same when she is equally as a survivor as he was? Damn it! Thinking a lot about this makes his brain hurt. A heaved sigh with a shake of his head then he walks towards her, well, taking careful steps towards her then he stops nearby her. He'll let his bluntness steer this conversation otherwise, his stammering will cause another confusion "Wanna dance?" thats it. if she says no he can just turn away and find something else to do, but if she says yes then... well ..he will think of his next step.

How long had it been since she'd last danced?

She remembered learning when she was younger. Father and mother had been preparing her for when she was older so she could fit in with noble society. How fleetingly short that time had been, she reflected. Where once had been lessons of nobility there soon had been the time of trying to maintain House Valens on her own. In the years that followed losing her family, the years where she'd vowed revenge, there hadn't been need to retain the knowledge she'd gained. But times were different now. She was free from the past.

Now, she stood to the side and watched the familiar faces of Werites Beacon as they had their fun. A part of her longed to join in, but she found herself hesitating as the opportunity. Chloe tried to remember, tried to recall what she'd been taught, but the lessons were as blurred as the memories.

She started to wonder if maybe this was a bad idea. Perhaps it would be better just to stand to the side and watch as the others had their fun. She already could imagine Norma in particular calling her out for not having fun. But without a partner, what use was there in trying?

Familiar footsteps called Chloe out of her thoughts. Brown eyes drifted up and met the steel blue of Senel's. For just a beat, Chloe thought her heart was beating that little bit faster as she registered his request. She had to push back the response she wanted to give, how she wanted to explain she didn't remember how, in favor of considering. If it was with him...

Now, Chloe suspected Senel wasn't aware of her still lingering crush. That was fine, she'd accepted it. Besides, this was just a dance. If he wanted to, then maybe she could recall the steps. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Sure," Chloe answered at length, smile finding its way to her face before long. It faltered for just a moment. Maybe she should give him advanced warning.

"Just so you know, I might not be the best at it. But I still want to," she explained. She held out her hand for him to take. Here went nothing, she supposed.

#ic #sentofight #Seeking Victory (Chloe) #A New Day Dawns #What a stark contrast from their last interaction xD #This got much longer than initially intended don't feel obligated to match it!

[goldhymn]

╰ * open starter ┊ @revolutionstart .

it  should  have  been  a  weekend  like  any  other.  should  have  being the  key,  here  —  but  when  silas  had  awoken  this  morning  to  a  very  demanding  feline  perched  on  his  chest,  noisily  demanding  breakfast  yet  disinterestedly  sniffing  at  what  was  later  placed  in  front  of  her,  he  knew  he  had  to  stop  by  the  pet  supply  store.  it  was  time  to  buy  treasure  that  one  brand,  again;  the  one  she  heavily  favours  for  a  few  days  and  then  won’t  deign  to  touch  anymore until months  down  the  line.

and  so,  dressed  in  a  baggy  sweater  with  hair  tousled  and  the  sleep  only  half-rubbed  out  of  his  eyes,  silas realises shopping  is  to be his  first  point  of  order,  this  morning.

he’s  hovering  near  the  shelves  by  the  storefront  when  something  catches  his  attention:  a  familiar  face  on  the  street  outside,  looking  over  just  in  time  for  his  eyes  to  meet  theirs  across  the  glass.  wordlessly,  he  raises  a  hand,  offering  a  small,  clumsy  wave  and  a  polite  smile  that  errs  on  the  side  of  a  grimace.  silas  has  an  image  he  likes  to  project  at  work,  and  looking  dishevelled  while  fussing  over  whether  to  buy  cans  of  tuna  whitemeat  with  or  without  chicken  for his cat was  a  far  cry  from  it.

#╰ * 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ┊ chat. #╰ * 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 ┊ silas. #if we haven't plotted feel free to hmu or assume connections #also don't feel obligated to match length!! #revolution.starter

[stars-written]

Before the rise of the new Galactic Empire, the galaxy had felt infinite. Like the stars just went on and on forever without end. Like it was impossible to explore every corner of it all in a single lifetime. Like you could pick a random direction, follow it a while, and end up some place where no one would ever find you-- if that was what you wanted.

Now, though... now it was all she could do to find a decent place to hide. She didn't know (but hoped, prayed, begged that it wasn't this) if it had anything to do with her past, with the lingering trails of the Dark within her, but it seemed like no matter where she went, they always found her. The Inquisitors loyal to the Emperor, sent to hunt down and slaughter any remaining Jedi in the galaxy. And while she had never really identified as a Jedi exactly, it didn't seem to make much of a difference to them.

After her third month of hiding and after her seventh relocation in that short span of time, she started to feel claustrophobic, trapped, doomed even. She needed somewhere to hide that was more certain, somewhere they wouldn't dream of looking. She was desperate and perhaps it was for that reason that she made the decision to venture out into the furthest reaches of Wild Space. If they were crazy enough to follow her out there, then perhaps they deserved to catch her.

The journey had been perilous, as she knew it would be. Random meteor crashes, debris from previously unfortunate ships, solar flares and storms that could fry her equipment or render her functionally blind in her exploration all united to try and put a stop to her journey before it even began. But she persisted. With no other viable direction than forward, she went, pushing herself forward further than she thought possible. She passed planet after planet, all with atmospheres or environments unsuitable to human life, desperate to find something, anything, that might serve her purpose out here.

After a week, she was certain she was lost. After two, she was sure she would never find her way back out again. After a third, she'd given up all hope of ever seeing a safe place to land.

But then, when her food supplies had run out two days prior and her life support systems were mere hours from expiring, an alarm went off at the console in the cockpit of her ship. Certain she had merely attracted an Imperial tail of some sort, she couldn't explain away the excitement she felt as she ran from her quarters to the blinking console and began reading, voracious and alert for the first time in weeks, the atmospheric properties of the planet ahead.

"Perfect!" Her throat cracked and squeezed dryly against her attempts to speak, parched from the last several hours without water. Despite the situation, she felt elation blossoming in her chest as she read over the preliminary scans of the planet below her. It was habitable, there were life signs, breathable air, drinkable water. It was uncharted, with no record of the place going back as far as the records she had uploaded into the system could go, but it was an option. A viable option. She'd take her chances.

Guiding her ship down to the planet's surface, she found the nearest open field she could find to set down. She shut everything down to give it all a chance to rest, making a mental note to worry about recharging the fuel cells at her earliest convenience once she'd found a drinkable source of water and something to eat. Gathering what remained of her things, a change of clothes, her lightsaber, and a scattering of survival tools all in a rucksack she hoisted over her shoulder, she flipped the switch to lower the landing ramp onto the planet's surface and began her trek into unknown territory.

(@heroonlybyblood liked for a starter!)

#alright i'm calling it here #this got SUPER away from me #i'm so sorry #please don't feel obligated to match or anything #heroonlybyblood #Rise of the Empire;; verse

[positivelybeastly]

Logical X-Tremes

@emmatriarchy

It had been - quite a time at the Mansion, to be intensely diplomatic.

Genosha. The U-Men. Cassandra Nova. Fantomex. The riot (oh, god, the riot). Whatever in the second, fifth and ninth circles of Hell was going on between Scott, Jean and Emma. And now . . . hmm.

Was this to be the greatest challenge of them all?

A fellow mutant that stood at five foot seven, weighed one hundred and thirty five pounds?

"Sage."

Piece 56371. A section of the pancreas. Quite essential, Emma would end up missing it rather badly if she . . . Hank put down the chunk of diamond flesh with the exact care of a jeweller, his broad shoulders doing their best to settle into the kind of mountain range that could bear the weight of the incoming conversation. He was doing quite an excellent job of hiding it, or so he liked to think, but there was an inhuman glow to his new eyes that would betray the intensity of his - feelings.

"I suppose I should welcome you back to the Mansion. We haven't had a chance to speak since Valencia." Had she run, knowing that he was going to be transcendent with rage, when he woke up with his old teeth swimming in his throat and none of his bones where he had left them the night before? Had she even thought about what it would do to him? Oh, it was well meaning, to be certain, but . . .

. . . Manners, Henry. You can think about wringing her neck all you like so long as you're polite while you do it.

"You've been well, I hope."

#emmatriarchy #body horror tw #Please don't feel obligated to match length!

[elifalvey]

LOCATION — Their parent's home in Claret Park.

WHO — Elijah & Cynthia ( @cynthiafalvey ).

The (hopefully) permanent relocation of their youngest son to Providence Peak meant one simple thing for Erica and Rodney Falvey: they could finally try their hand at proper family dinners again. With all of their kids traveling in different directions around the globe — never slowing down, hardly taking a second to breathe — it was easy for Falvey get-togethers to land on the back burner of priorities over the years, save for big holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas that they’d never dare to miss. Elijah could tell that their mother had been ecstatic about it at first, too, busting out truly unnecessary dishware and cutlery that he was surprised had made it to see the year 2024; their father was ecstatic in his own muted way, spending afternoons in the kitchen making sure that all the food was prepared perfectly for the newfound occasion.

In recent weeks, it turned into a much more casual affair. The shininess of weekly dinners wore off — sometimes, the term looser than usual as it meant pizza and a movie in the living room, where maybe one or two siblings were missing from the equation — and they were allowed to use plastic dishware and cutlery again, but it was still just as rewarding.

This week in particular, Elijah had been the first to arrive with Rhiannon in tow. He’d gotten her settled down for a quick nap in his old bedroom (that they turned into a nursery for her now, funnily enough) before he tried to join his parents in the kitchen, except he’d been shoo’d away by Dad who insisted he wasn’t of any help just standing there. After that, he wandered out to the garden, fiending for a cigarette to pass the time with until one of his other siblings happened to show up — or, well, realistically, Nikolas or Cynthia (he couldn’t count on Reggie to not be last, unless a miracle struck).

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. He’d only been out there for maybe two minutes, tops, until he heard the latch of the gate unhook and he saw his sister pushing through the other side. “Took you long enough!” he chastised teasingly from where he stood on the porch, shaking his head in disapproval like he’d been there forever without company. “Woah, woah, woah — pause.” He sidestepped in front of the screen door, blocking her entrance. “First of all, Dad’s in a mood about the food again, so . . . you know, proceed with caution. He pushed me out of the kitchen for asking him if he put the salt in, which —” He held up both of his hands, as if to say ‘whatever’. “Second of all, have you heard from Reg at all? Do we know if he’s even coming? I brought Rhia as his replacement, just in case.”

#INTERACTIONS. #ft. cynthia #:DDDD #pleaSE DON'T FEEL OBLIGATED TO MATCH LENGTH BTW

[mobianresistance]

"Ugh... what the hell..." Claire groaned as she sat upright, glancing around at her surroundings as her vision came back into focus. One moment, she'd been desperately fighting for her life against the Shadow Androids, a fight two of her comrades had already lost. The next, just before the killing blow could be dealt, everything had disappeared in a strange flash of bright light.

And now here she was in a forest clearing, alone, battered and bruised but alive, with the androids nowhere in sight. Using her damaged whispon to steady herself, Claire pushed herself back up off of the ground and onto her feet.

Her mask still appeared to be in working order, at least to some degree, but even if she tried to use it to call for help, who would answer? Smithy? Slinger? Both dead. Mimic had sold them out, and if he still had his mask, then this line was now compromised. That only left one potential ally...

Whisper! Claire had told Whisper to hang back, which meant there was a chance she could still be alive. Holding out hope for her friend's possible survival but still in need of medical attention, Claire begins to slowly limp her way through the woods in the hopes of finding civilization.

In the meantime, for the first time in quite a while, the video signal from Claire's mask was active once again.

@atangledfate

#closed rp #atangledfate #muse: claire voyance #Gotta Go Fast (Main Verse) #//so uh... this got a lot longer than I expected it would #//please don't feel obligated to try to match this lol #long post #death tw #injury tw