boxlocks: (Default)
clock box mods. ([personal profile] boxlocks) wrote in [community profile] blockcocks2016-06-03 05:10 pm

Test Drive Meme #3!

Ladies and gentlemen and people of non-specific gender delegations! Tonight, what you've all been waiting for! It's the one, the only, the quarterly Clock Box Test Drive Meme!

Late last month we added ten new locations that we would love to see potential applicants experimenting with! Or as always, feel free to invent your own.

To answer some questions we've seen sometimes: You do not need an invitation to play on the TDM, you do not need a free character slot if you're in the game, multiples are welcome, we won't get mad if you accidentally ignore something from our setting docs, and you are welcome to make threads game canon once both characters are in the game, if both players are amenable.

Onto the prompts:

ONE: IT'S A LION GET IN THE CAR
While there are no NPCs, the Clock Box has animal life ranging from birds to bacteria. Mostly they stay in their areas, but occasionally an animal or two takes advantage of someone neglecting to close a door behind them, which is maaaaaybe how this happened. So now, there's a lion sitting in the middle of this dainty 19th century parlour looking particularly lost. Or perhaps there's a penguin waddling around the deck of a spaceship. Or — how did that vulture get into Lego World? Let's not even start to talk about the geese. Maybe your character can help rescue and return them to their natural habitat, maybe thanks to a sudden gift of tongues from the Clock they can make a new friend, or... well, hey, people have to eat, right?


TWO: TEXTS FROM LAST VALENTINE'S DAY
Occasionally, especially around certain holidays, the Clock gets a longing to send texts on other character's behalf, directly into character inboxes. So you've just sent a text that, say, lists your number and invites someone to use a telephone to contact you, perhaps. Or you seem to have mistaken them for your father, to whom you're asking into your house. Or maybe you're inviting them around for an invigorating horse-riding session. And... it seems like you've sent it twenty times. To total strangers. Oops.


THREE: SLEEP DEPRIVATION
Most humans need sleep. When they don't get enough of it, the brain starts to malfunction. Unfortunately, in an endless myriad of room after room, area after area, sometimes there's just nowhere in the Clock Box to sleep. So that's why your character is trying to sail across to a nearby door in the hopes that there's a bedroom on the other side, even though they know nothing about sailing. Or maybe they're asking the nearest person, deliriously, if they happen to have a pillow on them. Asking? Screaming? Maybe they've started to see shadows in the corners of the room, or theorise aloud about how the Clock is just a metaphor for god. Or, most likely of all, they're waking up wedged in the branches of a tree with a crick in their back and no memory of climbing it.


FOUR: LOCKBOX
Share your thoughts?

Post a status update on the Lockbox app, Clockbox's in-game, Twitter-like network. As noted in the link it's text-only and brevity is, as some guy somewhere once said, the soul of wit, but even a short statement can still generate a lot of response!


FIVE: WILDCARD
Maybe you want to play around with the tropes, sudden superpowers, crack status effects, occasional mistletoe, or random item gifts? Maybe you want touching reunions with your canonmates or a case of mistaken identity? Maybe you just really want to set a thread in that gross room made out of flesh? The Clock can hold just about any location or offer any activity you can imagine. Try not to tear open the sky or anything, but otherwise, the sky's the limit! The ideally still intact sky.



optical: (Default)

j daniel atlas / now you see me (no spoilers)

[personal profile] optical 2016-06-03 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
1.

[ This isn't Daniel's first rodeo. Or... liontamedeo. He's worked with caged animals before as part of his show. Not for years, sure, and never without their handler, but he still feels pretty confident, holding the barstool out with the legs pointed like prongs at the big cat. The lioness blinks lazily at him. ]

Yeah, that's... that's good. That's great. You stay right there. Good girl.

[ There is not a woman in the world who enjoys it when he uses that patronizing tone on them, and this one proves no exception, as she pulls back her lips in a low snarl. Daniel nearly shits himself. He goes very still, eyes darting, trying to remember if he has anything up his sleeve to distract the big cat while he flees out of the bar. ]


2.
On a scale of 1 - 10, you're a 9, but something tells me I'm the 1 you need. ;)


4.
subject: @atlas
Come and see.



5.
[ Daniel is throwing a slight temper tantrum. It goes like this:

He wishes for something. Simple but unlikely shit: a single buttered dinner roll, for example, or three wooden ducks.

He gets it, or something close enough that an attempt could be considered made.

He tosses it aside and repeats.

A pile is starting to grow, and he's getting crankier and crankier as he continues to be unable to spot the "trick".
]

Don't think I'm impressed, okay! Because I'm not!


(( danny's from too early in nysm2 for spoilers, but his hair is different to his icons, a buzzcut. facetwin stuff is fine, prose is more than fine, starting something totally different is, you guessed it, fine. ))
Edited 2016-06-03 09:41 (UTC)
bravebartender: (and build a replica for me)

1 }

[personal profile] bravebartender 2016-06-03 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[There is a lion in her bar.

Technically it's not her bar, it's everyone's bar, it existed long before she arrived at the clock but Cami's become a bit protective of it over the month she's been there and for some reason the clock has dropped a lioness into her bar.

She's currently behind the bar right now, watching the stand off between Daniel and this giant cat of death, and she slowly holds up her hand in a "stop" position.]


Don't ... don't move. I think I read somewhere that they can't really see you if you don't move.

[Or was that house cats? It might have been house cats, Cami.]

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solomissions: (Spy)

Natasha Romanoff / Avengers Academy

[personal profile] solomissions 2016-06-03 02:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[1]

[She isn't sure what this room is. Maybe where all the lost luggage of the multiverse goes to die? A suitcase graveyard? Whatever it is, it's a mess. Giant piles of luggage and purses, laptop bags and diaper bags and trunks in haphazard arrangements, and the occasional giant stack of suitcases towering overhead.

Natasha's climbing one of these in an effort to see if there's actually another way out of this room, and she's actually making pretty good time even without her grappling hook. But reaching the top, she freezes with one arm over the edge when she comes face to face with...is that a pterodactyl, or a pteranodon? She isn't sure what the difference is. Whatever it is, it is very large and hungry-looking.]


Nice giant flying murder-lizard...I'm just going to climb back down, and you don't have to die...

[2]

superiorspy: Ce n'est pas un pas des deux sans vous ;) Come dance with me?

[3]

[She feels like she's been walking for days now. In fact, she probably has. How many times has she distantly heard a clock strike the hour? Too many. At first, she was just too keyed up to find a place to sleep, too interested in the secrets this place has to hold. Then, one room after another was filled with some kind of hazard, something that made sleeping incredibly uncomfortable: a sunny hillside covered in sawgrass, a beautiful bedroom with an orgy-sized bed and an annoying alarm clock that went off every five minutes.

Now, she's in a room that's pitch-dark and playing some sort of lullaby, and her eyes keep drifting as she crosses it, hands outstretched. She's almost sleepwalking when she finally walks right into another body, yells, and punches it right in whatever body part seems closest.]


Hey! Hands off!


[[Avengers Academy, the college-age Marvel AU we never knew we needed. Natasha here is approximately 18 and the best kind of mean girl. All comers welcome, and feel free to start something new!]]
Edited 2016-06-03 14:11 (UTC)
selfimage: — ʙᴏɴᴅᴏᴄ — (Thirteen o'clock.)

THREE.

[personal profile] selfimage 2016-06-03 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ her fist certainly hits a someone. this someone is rather firm—four-hundred and fifty pounds firm—that may be a bit hard on the fist. there is, however, a little oof of humor, like whoever it is has been harmed (he hasn't). ]

There weren't any hands on.

[ a different voice, but familiar. there's a whimsy sort of accent teasing at the edges, a cadence that implies that his words are poetry. there's a huff of amused exasperation before a green-colored tendril flickers to life, causing part of his face to be illuminated.

looks familiar too, most likely, but the look that he's giving her may say otherwise. it's curious, if anything.
]

Oh, hello.

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avicula: (❚❚ COMMENTARY)

dutch | killjoys

[personal profile] avicula 2016-06-03 02:42 pm (UTC)(link)
BOXING GYM
( there's a young woman pummelling a punching bag. her hands are wrapped in tape, but she isn't wearing gloves. she isn't wearing very much at all, in fact: loose trousers and a bra. the rest of her clothing sits in a neat pile a few steps away, and on top of that pile rests a gun.

dutch doesn't know how long it's been since she's last slept, but she has plenty of anger to pour into her punches and kicks, and she doesn't feel safe enough here to really want to sleep. who knows if this isn't some hallucination, some part of khylen's plan? she's no longer wearing the implant in her spine, but that doesn't mean he can't have found some other way to make her life hell. he excels at that, after all.

should anyone enter the gym as well and take a step toward her or look into her direction for longer than strictly speaking necessary, dutch will stop her onslaught of the punching bag, steadying it with both hands and then leaning her hip against it, arms crossing and eyebrows lifting. )


Looking for anything in particular, stranger?


TEXTS FROM LAST VALENTINE'S DAY
( the text is sent from a device registered to killjoy, but dutch had no hand in sending it. admittedly: a few drinks in, she might have, if she felt more secure here than she does. )

space warrior princess searching for hot distraction


LOCKBOX (un: killjoy)

top ten tips for a newbie, go
oh, and if anyone sees a guy named johnny or a taller guy named d'avin, point them my way
dampened: (059.)

un: levelfour

[personal profile] dampened 2016-06-03 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
You forgot to add "more handsome" to that.

:D

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sunmons: (HARDSHIP)

alina | grisha triology

[personal profile] sunmons 2016-06-03 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"i am the sun summoner. it gets dark when i say it does."
( alina steps through a door and into darkness. no, that is not entirely true: there is some light, but barely enough to make out the curved ceilings of catacombs. her heart starts, but she knows better by now than to let her fear show.

you never know who is watching. you cannot trust anyone.

she doesn't know what this is, where she is or why she has been brought her. she can guess at who has brought her here, at least: it seems like the darkling's work, though she's yet to see sign of him. that, or this is another form of hallucination. it doesn't seem like one of the priest's tricks, if only because alina knows that he could not have managed this without her notice.

the why is not as relevant, right now, as her reaction — when she spreads her hands and sunlight fills the room, bright and immediate, it is a display of power meant for anyone who is watching. if anyone is at all, that is.)


lockbox (un:sun-summoner)
( alina doesn't know how this works, but she can read even when the text is not written on paper but on the screen of a device unlike any she's ever seen before. she can write, too, and after days of wandering this place, opening door after door and finding no sign of the darkling or mal or anyone she knows, she is willing to try this.

she doesn't know what to say, though. in the end, her message is a call for help disguised as a statement. )


i don't understand
Edited 2016-06-03 14:50 (UTC)
perzys: (010)

[personal profile] perzys 2016-06-03 03:44 pm (UTC)(link)
( it seems like a trick at first. of course it does, you don't just see people wandering around that look identical to you, and she is no stranger to the mischief and chaos that magic can wreak. the poor light is enough to make out the details, enough for daenerys to hesitate in acknowledging the stranger wearing her face.

perhaps it is another vision. a strange one certainly, they rarely have been quite so literal as this, but she waits nonetheless. and then light fills the room, and she knows this is not her. it may well still be some trickery of magic, of course, she can't rule that out yet, but as for a vision? it seems less likely. )


You are a warlock?

( the men of qarth are the only people she has met who wield that kind of power, forgive her lack of knowledge on gender-specific magic-user terminology. she's mistrustful, certainly, but it doesn't stop her from taking a small step towards the other woman, careful but still curious despite everything. )

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downtrod: (013)

sam winchester | supernatural

[personal profile] downtrod 2016-06-03 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
sleep deprivation
( it's remarkably difficult to focus when you've been up as long as sam has. granted, he's no stranger to the semi-frequent all-nighter -- before he was a hunter he was a college student, remember? -- but this is a whole new level. the place itself isn't helping either, the never ending hallways with doors of all varieties swimming around him as he tries desperately to find a semi-secure place to close his eyes for a few minutes.

maybe his exhausted brain just isn't thinking straight, or maybe the clock is actively trying to push him a little further, who knows. whatever the reason, sam stumbles through the latest door into a car park, and heavily sighs. it's better than nothing. moments later he's rifling through his bag to find something to jimmy the door open. feel free to catch him in the act, or while the car alarm angrily shrieks at him until he can trip the engine. hell, if you're late enough you might even catch him snoozing away on the backseat. )

lockbox

@winchester


Genuinely I never thought I'd ask this question. Has anyone else seen the creepy flesh room? I've not been drugged or something, right?

wildcard
( randomize me!!!! pm/pp sharknado @ plurk if you have questions )
Edited 2016-06-03 15:06 (UTC)
slashered: (008)

[personal profile] slashered 2016-06-03 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)
( max isn't sure what's weirder. a place with doors that lead everywhere, or being stuck in an 80s slasher films that your mother starred in. currently, she's experiencing or has experienced both, and she's spent most of her time in the wacky door place wondering which one she and her friends would prefer (the doors, because there's no billy trying and succeeding in killing them), and whether or not there's a door leading to another 80s horror film.

either way, the latest door she's opened has given her a car park. it seems pretty normal, and she isn't too suspicious of it - at least there's no suspenseful music playing in the background. the only thing out of place is someone trying to open a lock to one of the cars and, oh, there it is. an alarm. she's not even surprised. )


Hey, would you turn that off? ( if she comes off as irritated, it's mostly because she's sick of loud noises. the dun dun dun tsh tsh tsh of billy's approaching music was enough for her. )

@impalalover67

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sara lance | dctv

[personal profile] ex_staving238 2016-06-03 05:12 pm (UTC)(link)
it's a lion penguin
( sara is pretty sure this is not how wish fulfilment is supposed to work. her thought had been "damn, i really deserve a vacation", but this? this doesn't feel like a vacation. it's too strange, and that means it's more of the same rather than a break from what her life has become.

at least she's found a diner behind one of the doors, and she's currently digging into a burger and fries, the latter of which she dips into her milkshake now and again. some things just run in the family, after all. there are other people in the diner, but sara doesn't pay them much mind at first beyond the instinct that allows her to be aware of their position respective to hers at all times. it's only when sara spots a penguin waddling across the bar that she turns in her booth, facing the person closest to her. )


Is that normal, or am I hallucinating right now? ( her tone is dry, and she purses her lips for a moment after speaking. )

lockbox: canary
let's play a little game called guess who i am
your hints are: star city, nanda parbat, waverider


various locations/wildcard
( sara can be found at a number of locations as she explores: going through her kata at the beach or the boxing gym, bo-staff twirling around her body, she'd gladly teach you some moves, or spar. at the bar, she's either pensive while nursing a beer, or she's dancing to some jams from the jukebox in the corner. maybe she'll even ask you to dance with her.

there are plenty more places where she might be found, so run into her anywhere. )
billionerd: (or if he moves. will he fall)

lockbox; un: palmer

[personal profile] billionerd 2016-06-03 07:36 pm (UTC)(link)
at this rate we'll all end up here. hi!

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@levelfour

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misskringle: (Default)

Kristen Kringle l Gotham

[personal profile] misskringle 2016-06-03 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
(Canon point: during the GCPD shooting in "Knock,Knock")

lockbox; un: misskringle

Anyone know how to fix cracked glasses? And only curious but anyone here got ties to the GCPD?

ONE: IT'S A LION GET IN THE CAR

[Kristen at that moment was caught in the branches of a tree thanks to both her glasses being cracked and what was a peacock thinking she was lunch. So for now she was throwing the crackers from her purse in an attempt to make it go away.]
metempsychotic: (sweaty)

ONE.

[personal profile] metempsychotic 2016-06-05 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A cloud of dust billows up over the rise of a nearby hill, and the roar and rattle of an engine heralds the arrival of a weather-worn but fully functional jeep. At the wheel is a red-headed woman who is sweating profusely under a wonderfully classic pith helmet and solar topee.

When she spots the woman in the tree she hits the breaks, jolting forward and bumping into the horn, which lets out an indignant bellow, enough to startling pretty much anything within a quarter-mile. She squints through the dusty windshield, then quickly turns to crank up the canvas sun-roof before circling the jeep under the tree, positioning it just under where Kristen has take arboreal refuge. Leaning out of the window the woman in the jeep beckons, then thwacks the recently-raised canvas covering.
]

Come on! I've got you!
redarrowqueen: (Default)

Thea Queen l Arrow

[personal profile] redarrowqueen 2016-06-03 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)
(Canon point: during the fight against Ra's Al Ghul in "Broken Arrow")

THREE: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

[Thea was about to hit a week of no sleeping and it showed. After the 17th attempt at finding someplace to konk out for a few hours a shrill scream could be heard along with a hiss of pure rage.] "Just wanna sleep!" [As Thea heads for door number 18 or was it 19? But another scream escapes as a flashback of a certain stabbing takes full force given the lack of sleep.]

4.
subject: @speedy
For certain people that screenname should be a clue, anyone here?
Edited 2016-06-04 00:13 (UTC)
retrofire: (023)

peter quill | mcu

[personal profile] retrofire 2016-06-03 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
ONE |

Shhh—shhhhhhh.

[ As far as 'shut up' commands go, it's kind of loud. Peter doesn't even look up when he hears the door, throwing up one hand in a universal freeze gesture and pressing one finger to his lips.

The room's cluttered enough that the cause for the warning is easy to miss. It looks like a used record store, one that ran out of shelves about five thousand singles ago: there are stacks all over the place, and the walls are plastered in posters that look... sort of familiar. Familiar outfits, familiar hairstyles, all very 80's. None of the faces are right, though.

There's a small crash as one of the stacks tips over, followed by the sound of something scampering across the floor. Peter tracks the movement without moving. Or explaining. Just hold forever, thanks.
]

TWO | @starlord

roses are red
violets are blue
surprise bitch
bet you thought this would rhyme
❤️❤️❤️


FOUR | @starlord

cool program but where the hell are my pants

[ Separate message, five seconds later. ]

i said MY pants
mine
not some pants i found on the floor
also i want my coat back
deathsdaughter: (011)

4 \ @gamora

[personal profile] deathsdaughter 2016-06-04 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
if the pants fit then wear them for now
please tell me you're not walking around naked

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tembloroso: (really the gun thing thats what bothers)

un: rictor

[personal profile] tembloroso 2016-06-03 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
if this is some kinda mojoworld plot to kidnap shatterstar it's gonna backfire on you js
rrrrangerrick: (wtf - before these nerds ask a question)

@RCKT

[personal profile] rrrrangerrick 2016-06-04 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
Oh no

You're onto us that's exactly what we're after

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deemed: (Default)

[personal profile] deemed 2016-06-03 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
4
@odinson

the first man to direct me to a tavern will be bought his weight in mead


5
[Are you having a lovely day out in the hedge maze? The sun's shining, the birds are singing, it's just about the perfect date. Not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket.

Or no jacket at all, judging by the bare-chested guy striding through the maze trying very hard to look like he's not lost. Because he isn't lost. It's the exit that's lost. Odinson knows exactly where he is. (He refuses to stop and think of the deeper philosophical implications of what his current sitation says about him. Nope. Not going there.)

He also knows where his giant axe is, and chopping down all these hedges is looking like a better and better option all the time.

Until he spots you! Salvation may be at hand!]
Hail and well met, fellow maze-wanderer. How goes the day?
Edited (don't look at me) 2016-06-04 00:30 (UTC)
selfimage: — ᴍᴄᴋᴇʟᴠɪᴇ — (Where have all the good times gone?)

5

[personal profile] selfimage 2016-06-04 03:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ this isn't exactly what he expected, but he's figured by now that no matter what he expects, that he should put on some semblance of a surprised face (much to Odinson's chagrin.)

Loki turns a green corner, his feet one in front of another, as if he's in mid-step of a dance. his shoulders draw back with tension, and then release when he realizes who it is.
]

Did you lose your shirt, brother?

[ no, he really has no idea. ]

Re: 5

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4 @RCKT

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4 | @canary

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Re: 4 | @canary

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@bravebartender

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aaaaaahhhhhhh

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also username is thor, because

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JUST RUB IT IN HIS FACE

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motherofnemesis: (Default)

max kearney | oc

[personal profile] motherofnemesis 2016-06-04 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
2.

this seems like far too lonely a place for anyone to go places alone. anyone need company?


3.

[ Nothing about this is surprising to her so far. It's just another maze, another area she has to get through in her mind to figure out why she has been in places like this so often. So she keeps moving, and if her hand is always somewhere near her gun and her eyes are always looking for exits and spots to go for another place, some way that could potentially get out of here, well that's how it goes.

she's used to not being able to sleep. she's just more used to be being woken from it by more conventional means, the ones where people have no option but to spill other people's blood to accomplish it. so this is super fun, definitely what she was planning on doing when she walked through that door, and she doesn't like any of this, but that doesn't mean she isn't looking for potential allies as she goes. ]


4.

anyone have a map to this maze, or is that as i am assuming asking too much?

i'm not sure how far i'd go with benevolent on this particular place's agenda.


. wildcard.

[ find me ]
raw: (00001000)

[personal profile] raw 2016-06-04 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
some people got maps of a room or two, but nothing for the whole place. don't think it could be mapped.

3.

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turncloak: (Default)

theon greyjoy / a song of ice and fire

[personal profile] turncloak 2016-06-04 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
2. TFLVD.
Heard you were good with a sword. Would you like to handle mine?


3. Sleep Deprivation.
Sleep is a sword with no hilt, and it cuts at him whichever way he tries to grasp it. Perhaps he should welcome the possibility of something so close to death, but his dreams are full of hounds and snow and pain. Even should he find a bed, he feels his back exposed beneath the covers, tosses and turns with the certainty of eyes on him. And he hasn't seen a proper bed in days, if what passes for time here can truly be called such.

By the time he enters the spaceship bridge, he's near ready to drop where he stands. Only a gritted perseverance like stubborn scar tissue has gotten him this far, but the lights and metal dazzle his eyes. Even the underground city with its clockwork machines hadn't ever shown him anything like this, and he stares, wild-eyed and ragged, incredibly out of place admidst the gleaming consoles.

After a moment he stumbles across into the strange grey curve of a chair, and it cushions him nicely, and he wonders if he's going to fall asleep despite himself. If perhaps he is already asleep, and this is but a dream.


5. Wildcard.
[ OTA! ]


(( theon is the book version with a side of scorched crau, so he has all twenty digits, though he won't recognize any crosscanon characters. ))
998: (forever sideeyes)

2

[personal profile] 998 2016-06-04 06:25 am (UTC)(link)
You don't want to see me with a sword in my hand, Greyjoy.
Edited 2016-06-04 06:30 (UTC)

wow I laughed

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slashered: (008)

max cartwright ( final girls )

[personal profile] slashered 2016-06-04 12:50 pm (UTC)(link)
#tbt
( it's an old move theatre.

max isn't surprised to open a door and find herself here. ever since she had been caught in her mother's film, she's been thinking about the one back home. it's been stuck in the back of her mind, even when she and her friends were being chased by an 80's style slasher killer.

for a moment she doesn't move from the door, she's stuck in place, imagining a fire and a ripped screen and screaming and a white light taking her somewhere else. but then she's moving slowly, hands moving over the seats, nervous and uncomfortable, and avoiding looking at the screen which isn't even playing anything (and boy, is she glad for that). but max has always been the brave one, and eventually she does look up.

maybe she's found still by the seats, uncomfortable and looking away, or now she's sitting in one of the seats, staring at the screen, nervous and upset. or maybe you find her right in front of the screen, touching it carefully, as though there's something hidden there that she needs to find. )
lockbox.
@cartwright
is there a door that leads to a creepy 80s slasher film?
and if yes, is there a way to avoid it
sleep deprivation.
( it feels like days since max had last managed to catch a wink of sleep, but really it was only three rounds of 92 minutes, and the day before she and the others decided to go to the movie theatre for duncan.

of all the doors she's opened, so far none of them had decided to be kind and just give her a bedroom. instead she's run into a zoo, a bookshop, a coffee shop— no where that she would be able to catch some sleep. after everything that's happened, it's the only thing she really wants, but it looks like it's not actually going to happen. opening and closing doors in frustration looks like the only thing she can do.

maybe you can find her opening one of those doors, looking tired, upset and ready to punch someone. or maybe she'll tumble through into a door you're in, and with a frustrated noise, actually talk to you. )
Is there anywhere where I can sleep in this place?
Edited 2016-06-04 12:54 (UTC)
deathblade: (06.)

jake peralta | b99

[personal profile] deathblade 2016-06-04 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
1.
[ It's just a fact of life: geese are the worst. But Jake is NYPD, and by god, he is not going to back out of Legoland just because of some goddamn geese. He was here first. And he's halfway through completing his small, dubiously-constructed airplane (Legos are fun for all ages, people), he can't abandon it account of some feathered demons.

Though that being said, warding them off has gone about as well as one would expect. ]


Nice geese! Nice! Get back, get—Back off!

[ So you know, congratulations to have walked in on a grown man throwing legos at a flock of geese while balanced precariously on a pedestal. ]
3.
Question: is there a complaints department here? Where do I go to file a grievance about the fact that my PERFECTLY REASONABLE wish gave me a faulty product?
How can I organize a full-scale recreation of Die Hard with water pistols!

Also, holding open auditions for Hans Gruber.
No one worry, the Gruber mask I wished for? Very, very realistic. All you have to worry about is memorizing all the dialogue from the movie to recite back.
5.
[ choose your own adventure!! ]
highlyemotional: (☁ express!!)

@missmystic

[personal profile] highlyemotional 2016-06-04 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)
WHAT IS WITH EVERYONE AND DIE HARD!!!

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don't be sorry!!!! amy :33

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screams

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wayward: (3.)

jace wayland | shadowhunters

[personal profile] wayward 2016-06-04 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)
3.
[ All things considered, going days and days without enough sleep shouldn't be the most difficult thing Jace has gone up against. He's been fighting demons since he was eight years old, living on cat naps shouldn't compare.

But it kind of does.

It's been days since he's had a full night's sleep. Right now, his singular mission is to end this stretch of exhaustion. He's been pushing through doors for hours now, desperate for somewhere with bedding, any kind of bedding, anywhere quiet where he can maybe nod off undisturbed. He's wandered through a mess of doors, arcades and hedge mazes and a room made entirely of flesh, all without any prospects before he finds the pink door with the cat on it. ]


Thank the Angel. Finally, [ is the first thing Jace says as he shoves the door open and his eyes land on pillows and blankets. And then, when he actually processes the rest of the room: ] Oh no.

[ So now the question becomes: is he actually exhausted enough to sleep through all these cat sounds? ]
4.
Can anyone explain the flesh room to me? What purpose is that supposed to serve here?
5.
[ choose your own adventure!! ]
helical: (139)

3

[personal profile] helical 2016-06-04 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ alec is hurriedly walking past the open door when his feet stop him dead in his tracks. that looks like jace. he looks back. it is definitely jace. thank god. ]

Jace — [ he retraces his steps, comes to stand next to his parabatai only to do a double take at the inside of the room. what the [redacted] is this room. it looks like a nightmare. it also sounds like one. alec's face shifts into the expression of one that just caught a whiff of something like rotten eggs or sulfur. which is visually what's happening to him. ]

I'm not... [ he shakes his head, waves a hand over the room. ] I'm not doing this.

LMFAO god

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the things he does for u jace...

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what a good parabatai

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un: isabelle

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wow it is about time

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better late than never!

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gathers you up immediately

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prosecutorial: + black canary (13)

laurel lance | arrow (dctv) | spoilers for 418: eleven fifty-nine

[personal profile] prosecutorial 2016-06-04 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[one: it's a lion giraffe get in the car]
[It's a great big heaping helping of denial that has Laurel rifling through doors wondering if one of them will lead home. Part of her knows that that's not going to be possible - knows that the arrow did far more damage than currently shows, and that this may have been more of a rescue than anything else, but she can't just abandon Oliver, Thea and the rest of the team. She can't just allow herself to be stuck here.

She's tearing through doors one after another, trying to focus on finding her way home but she keeps winding up with options that are not home: a club that reminds her of Verdant, an empty apartment that reminds her of hers - nothing is right, though.

Until she yanks open one of the doors and ... well. That's definitely a giraffe. One long spotted neck extends it's way out the door and she can't help but take a step back, eyes wide in sudden surprise. Is that ... ? It can't be ... ?]


... What?


[three: sleep deprivation]
[Anger comes with a side of violence and inability to sleep. Some of it is just stubborn determination, because if she falls asleep will she wake up again? Will she go home and realize that this all was just a dream? Or if she does sleep, is she accepting that this is real and this is her life now. Without Thea, without her family, without the Black Canary.

After all, what's the point of being a hero if she can't even save herself?

As a channel for all of this she's pounding into one of the heavy bags at the boxing gym, feeling the wear in her muscles and the pure exhaustion that comes with it. She knows she should stop, and find somewhere to sleep and recuperate, but she's still not ready for that yet. She stops once, placing her hand against the heavy bag to steady it as she tries to catch her breath and steady herself. Just enough to breathe and remind herself that whether she is, she is still living.

And then she'll go right back to the beginning again.]


[four: lockbox (un: canarycry)]
[It takes a long time before she figures out exactly how to phrase this, because she isn't sure if keeping a secret identity really matters all that much anymore. She's hit the depression stage of things, and maybe a small bout of acceptance, but the point of the matter is, she isn't sure who she is without the Black Canary.

And she doesn't know who else might be on the other side of these devices. Might as well play it safe for now:]


This is the Black Canary. Any other friends around?

[She could really use one right about now. Otherwise, she might go find a friend in the bottom of a bottle, and that's no good for anyone.]
trigeminalheadache: (222-015)

three.

[personal profile] trigeminalheadache 2016-06-04 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She can't hide in Cisco's room forever.

Slowly but surely, Caitlin's coming out of hiding. First it was drinks with Leonard (which led to getting drunk and she doesn't remember much beyond that). Then, karaoke with Cisco. Now she's making her way to the boxing gym, to meet Eddie. With plans to work on the whole learning to throw a punch thing. She knows it's pretty much useless against a speedster, that Hunter and Eobard would stop her before she could even wind up for it, but it's more about feeling secure.

She's dressed down much more than typical: hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, a tank top, yoga pants. Eddie had said to wear something she could move in, and this certainly fit the bill. As she pushes through the door, she can hear someone hitting the heavy bag, the solid connections, the grunts of effort. She hesitates, one hand on the closed door.
] Eddie?

[ Don't panic don't panic you're okay you're okay this is okay. She takes a few more steps in, just enough that she can see who's there. And there's a feeling that hits her, eerily familiar to when she saw Eddie in the hedge maze. ]

... Laurel?

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glazes: (pic#9973709)

queen elsa ❄ once upon a time

[personal profile] glazes 2016-06-04 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)


( one; )

[ the sense of being trapped is suffocating. it is easy to panic in such a manner, a maze of rooms and spaces. she steps into a book shop through one door and into an array of flora at a green house next.

it's as ominous to her as it is lovely. she attempts to keep her worries and fears under control, the lingering thoughts of Anna where are you? I only now got you back as well as the uncertainty form a soft flurry of snow can be seen as she walks.

she wrings her hands together, tries to think of something to lift her spirits. anything -

a group of penguins runs past her through a door that leads to a vineyard. smiling, she flexes her fingers, creates a slope of soft snow for them to slide and play in ]


careful, don't slip too fast.

( four; )

( un: queen-elsa)

Please mind the snowgies who guard my room

they don't mean any harm they're only being playful.
metempsychotic: (sunny)

ONE.

[personal profile] metempsychotic 2016-06-05 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The vineyard seemed as good a place as any to catch her breath and pretend like maybe she could get her bearings. Better than the room full of luggage or the vast desert with its wrecks and derelicts. Much, much better than the river she had to raft down- a task at which she failed spectacularly, falling into the water and emerging, soaking wet, from a conveniently placed well further down the hillside from this very spot.

After some time waiting in the dappled shade of dust grape vines she has mostly dried off, her red hair tinted just a bit darker and looking tangled. At least she's clean. At least she's not in stomach-churning motion. At least there is a charming greenhouse over there, though she's hesitant to investigate because you never know where a door will actually take you in this place.

Then that door swings open, and tadaa- antarctic fowl! And some unseasonal snow as well. To be brutally honest, the spontaneous appearance of snow and penguins is weird, sure, but less weird than some of the other scenes she's stumbled through in this place. In fact, there is something familiar about spontaneous snow, enough to make her heart bounce in a strange fashion. The actual source of the phenomenon - a slim woman with white hair - is not what she expected, but she too has a hint of the familiar to her. And in any case she's wandered for heaven knows how long, and just to see a human face - accompanied by penguins or no - is worth getting excited over.

The once-waterlogged woman gets to her feet, hastily brushing off the dirt that has accumulated on her black skirt and straightening her turquoise blouse. She looks disheveled, and her smile is uneven and chagrined, but she's putting on as brave a face as she has on hand at present.
]

Now, please, don't mistake this for a pick-up line. I mean- you're lovely, as I hope you're well aware, but this is probably not the time nor the place.

[ There is a distinct note of hopefulness in her voice, one which comes with an equal serving of helplessness. The kind of appeal that a monarch might not be unused to seeing in supplicants. The red-haired woman doesn't yet know that the regal figure before her is just as lost as she. ]

...Am I dreaming? I'm having a hard time explaining all this in any other terms.

@jane

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toxophilite: (002)

CLINT BARTON | marvel cinematic (civil war spoilers)

[personal profile] toxophilite 2016-06-04 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
ONE | LIONS AND TIGERS ETC.
[Clint doesn't get thrown. There's never been room for that in his line of work, even before gods started raining down from the sky with magical cubes and the inspiration for armies of robots. Steadiness is a necessity, in his mind as well as his hands and heart. Reactions are instantaneous. Adaptation direct.

But then the door of his cell rolls back, and instead of Steve Rogers and the now-familiar view of the other cells, he's confronted by a walrus in what looks like an upscale speakeasy.]


Uh. [He says, eloquently. The walrus makes a loud barking kind of sound, turning its big head to face him, wobbling chin rearing upwards and tusks pointing down. Clint drops his weight back, hands spread out. Braced like he can do anything at all if a goddamn walrus decides to go for him. He doesn't have his gear. Just his bright blue raft prison PJs and 0 years of experience dealing with large sea mammals.]

Whoa, buddy. I don't have any more idea of what's going on here than you.

[Talking. Talking might help, right?]
TWO | TFLVD
un: hawkeye

So far from my eyes, so close here in my heart,
Distance could never keep us apart
I'll be watching you.

FOUR | LOCKBOX
un: hawkeye

So, looks like I'm looking for someone to help me open doors for the day. Either this place has a twisted sense of humor or I secretly really want a game of golf.

I'll owe you one.
deathblade: (04.)

2!!

[personal profile] deathblade 2016-06-04 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Now that's what we in the biz like to call stalking, friend. No free passes for alternate dimensions!

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four. un: hawkingbird.

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khadgar: (pic#10316284)

Khadgar | Warcraft (No spoilers )

[personal profile] khadgar 2016-06-04 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ooc: No spoilers in the prompts and will avoid in replies.]

ONE: IT'S A HERD OF GEESE GET IN THE CAR.
[Khadgar has no idea where he is for once, and that's an alarming thought. It could be a whole myriad of places, but right now there are more alarming things than an unknown environment on the cards; there's a large gaggle of geese slowly stalking towards Khadgar and right now he isn't even sure on how to go about it. He's never seen a bird that looks like that before, and the young man takes a step forwards, all curiosity until the goose at the forefront opens it's beak to show off the horror show of teeth it has inside. That's more than enough to put a dampener on the curiosity as Khadgar recoils.]

Okay, not another step, I'm warning you - [ Khadgar grimaces to himself, wondering why he's bothering. These birds don't look overly intelligent and - The head goose lunges suddenly, enough to warrant an appropriate mage response from Khadgar as he utters a harsh and short incantation as he throws his hand out. Light runes adorn the air around his hand and just as quickly there's a white bolt that fires itself at the goose, causing the bird to explode with a quack and a loud bang. Khadgar pauses, the gaggle of geese also pause as they all stare at the slowly falling feathers. That might have just been a bit of overkill and Khadgar gives a quick guilty look around before pointing accusingly at what he suspects is the next bird in charge.] That's your warning....

[ Hopefully the rest of the birds don't decide to take a shot; Khadgar really doesn't feel like blowing birds up much, this place was already odd enough.]

TWO: TEXTS FROM LAST VALENTINE'S DAY.
@khadgar
I'm no good at divination but I can tell we're destined for each other.


THREE: SLEEP DEPRIVATION.
[He has no idea how he got up there to begin with. It could have been the part where Khadgar is so tired he just simply doesn't remember, or it could have to do with the part where he was up the tree to escape from a large amount of geese wanting to avenge their fallen brethren. Either way, he's managed to get up there with some skill, and then managed to pass out into a deep slumber. It's deep enough that the mage has slowly begun to slide backwards, slipping between two branches so he's just hanging upside down and snoring lightly, fingertips pointed towards the ground.]

FOUR: LOCKBOX.
@khadgar

is this thing on? is it working? I THINK I'VE BEEN FOLLOWING THE INSTRUCTIONS BUT THIS IS ALL VERY NEW. Is this it? I think this is it. Words without quill? On a permanent parchment that just renews itself? What about books? This cannot be a book so this can't be all there is. What does this button d


[Five minutes later: attachment.jpg ]
stormwindlight: (annoyed)

@anduin, v-day text

[personal profile] stormwindlight 2016-06-04 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
What? Who is this?

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lockbox @magnus

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whodafuq: (009.)

dante | dmc: devil may cry

[personal profile] whodafuq 2016-06-04 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[i. graveyard rescue]

Nice place ya got here.

[Dante isn't talking to anyone in particular, casually addressing whatever invisible entity out there is watching him this time.

It's always something, after all.

Shrugging his shoulders, hiking his jacket up, he saunters further into the graveyard, lips pursed, looking around - it's all black and white, like some of the shittier parts of Limbo, but so far it lacks all the demon scum, so it could be worse. At least, he thinks so until he starts hearing the moaning and shambling, glances over his shoulder, arm already lifting, hand closing around the handle of Rebellion, eyes narrowing. There's someone there, staring at the source of all that moaning and grunting.]


You have got to be kidding me.

[Well, it might not be demon scum, but it's definitely shambling hordes of the undead making its way toward an innocent human, and what the hell is the difference anyway? Grinning, Dante draws Rebellion and lunges forward at top speed, sliding in front of the person, sword at the ready.]

These guys bothering you?

[ii. lockbox]

@dante.the.demonkiller

how do you swipe left on this thing
Edited 2016-06-04 23:53 (UTC)
hardgoodbye: (pic#9978290)

i ; I gotta

[personal profile] hardgoodbye 2016-06-05 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ A graveyard is just the sort of place he would expect to wake up dead. Or Hell. Maybe this is it... if it is, Marv is disappointed. He'd taken a lot of pleasure in the thought of sending men to Hell in the past, thinking it was going to be more bad on top of the bad he was giving them. Turns out it might just be more of the same.

Minus the zombies.

The 'innocent human' Dante has come to rescue is in fact a seven-foot tall brick shithouse with a shaved head and face like someone flattened it from the forehead down with an iron. Down to a tank top and a prison jumpsuit partially tied around his waist, it's easy to see the scars that litter his arms and guess that they don't stop there. For now, he's just hanging out by a headstone, watching the progression of the living dead towards him.

He twitches when Dante just seems to materialize right in front of him with that big blade. Who carries a sword around anymore? Marv doesn't know, but he decides he likes it. Medieval. He quirks a crooked grin at the ( what looks like, to him ) kid. ]


Not yet. Figure I might avoid it by trying a brisk pace around that there mausoleum.

[ And take them out that way, if he had to. Marv could handle a lot, and he liked a fight, but he wasn't stupid enough to just jump in the middle of this crowd of rotting people. Besides, even if they did seem pretty dead and mindless, he'd feel bad about taking out any of the women. Best to just avoid it if he could. But then... ]

Looks like you've got a better idea.

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ii; @c.snow

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ii @fuckofyourlife

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@coldasice

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lipsticked: bangparty @ dw (Default)

hanna marin | pretty little liars

[personal profile] lipsticked 2016-06-04 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
NETWORK
@marin

are you freaking kidding me??? can someone please explain how the hell i get out of here because i have SO much to do and i don't have time to be stuck in some weird brandle as alice in wonderland rip off that apparently has its own facebook??? this is next level creepy, even for A
Edited 2016-06-05 02:02 (UTC)
lone_ancillary: (stare)

[personal profile] lone_ancillary 2016-06-05 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
@sword_of_justice

It has not been verified, honored, but my best guess is that we are inside a vast alien organism of unquantifiable capacities. If there is a way out, it is not through any door I have found. Beyond every door is another room, and in every room, more doors.

When you speak of A, are you referring to Amaat? I would caution you against impiety, honored, if that is the case.
constant_magus: (all right there squire?)

John Constantine | Hellblazer

[personal profile] constant_magus 2016-06-05 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
[1] an emu walks into a bar

[The first place John makes sure to find anywhere he goes is a bar, and the clock is no exception. He's seated at the bar, settled onto the barstool in a way that suggests he has no intention of leaving any time soon. He's never been there before, but it still feels like a second home to him. It could be any bar anywhere in the world, really: drink in front of him, already nearly half-full ashtray close at hand... and then the emu walks in.

He turns and stares, then turns back and finishes off whatever was in his glass, setting it down with a thud.]


Right, then. Think I know a joke that starts like this.


[2] TFLVD

@piss_off

Ready to chase down the end of the world? Just like old times, yeah?


[4] lockbox

@piss_off

A little wish fulfillment is a dangerous thing.

[5] wildcard

[Pick a card, any card]
Edited 2016-06-06 05:11 (UTC)
metempsychotic: (pic#10330207)

A Trained Medical Professional

[personal profile] metempsychotic 2016-06-05 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
A SEQUENTIAL SERIES OF LOCKBOX POSTS:

[ A string of posts appears on the network, a flagrant working-around of the imposed character limit. The poster writers under the moniker 'the_good_doctor'. ]

Do you have a special gift? Something that makes you feel different from others? Something others say makes you different?

Has this gift caused you unhappiness? Has it made you the subject of persecution or social isolation? Has it brought harm upon you or those around you?

Do you suffer from feelings of guilt? Does your gift sometimes feel like a burden? Even a curse?

Come to receive professional, experienced, qualified support, free of judgment.

If you want it, you'll find the way.


[ Those pained, curious or bored enough to investigate will open a door to a modest, modern office - all brushed steel and beige suede, tasteful but lacking any personal style - containing an unoccupied couch and chair, comfortable without being cozy.

Both face a second chair, currently occupied by a fair, lightly freckled woman with red hair wearing a black skirt, a turquoise blouse and low black heels. Pen and paper in hand, she peers at you with pale blue eyes.

Her smile is subtle. Her expression expectant. She gestures.
]

Please, have a seat.
tchillin: (BP000748)

T'challa | MCU

[personal profile] tchillin 2016-06-05 09:54 am (UTC)(link)
Stuck in an elevator.
The problem with T'challa is that he's much better at pretending to be patient than he is at actually being patient. When the elevator comes to a grinding halt a few floors away from his intended destination he presses his lips together, stares at the door in askance for approximately half a minute, and then sighs deeply and mostly internally about non-Wakandan technology.

Honestly.

He glances around the ceiling of the elevator, and upon locating the emergency hatch in one of its corners, leaps up to stand on the handrails and push it effortlessly up and out of the way. He disappears wordlessly into the echoing, empty elevator shaft above, only to reappear a moment later as a single arm and slightly too-amused voice through the hole, offering a hand up to whomever he'd left waiting inside. "Are you coming?"
Obstacle course!
T'challa has managed to procure for himself a pair of black shorts and a gray tank-top, leaving his necklace, shoes and socks tucked in a neat pile off to the side by the door. He surveys the obstacle course, having been searching for somewhere to let off steam, exercise and hone his body. Something he has always found comfort in, and right now in this confusing place he can use all the comfort he can get.

There are boards angled over the water, clearly made to be leapt between, hanging ropes to swing across, a brick wall to scale, a huge gap to vault over, and then 40 feet of walls placed close enough together that it's clearly there to be spider-climbed. It's not exactly what he'd have chosen, but it'll certainly do.

If there's someone on the starting platform with him, he'll turn to give them a calculating look, before jerking his chin towards the path ahead of them and ask, "Care to race?" If there is someone already engaging the obstacles, he'll do his level best to catch up and overtake them. Because.
Lockbox (UN: catman)
I require directions to a room with grasslands and a hot climate.
Or provide your own starter!
lone_ancillary: (stare)

Obstacle Course

[personal profile] lone_ancillary 2016-06-05 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Just looking at T'challa is something of a relief for One Etrepa Seven. After a succession of relentlessly pale faces, the sight of someone with a well-bred complexion, a sign of proper civilization, serves put the ancillary more at least. T'challa's lack of gloves betrays this as a coincidence of genetics rather than a true indicator of good house association, but still- in circumstances like these, beggars can't be choosers.

She's dressed in a dark brown military uniform - with full gloves, of course - and has a single bauble pinned to her collar, what a discerning connoisseur of new agey crap could ID as a mood ring, though not one being worn in the appropriate manner. Her dark hair is cut sensibly short, without any sense of style whatsoever, and though she wears no cosmetics she is otherwise impeccably well-composed- stowed away in a very martial manner.

The challenge is met with an impassive gaze and an expressionless face. The calculations behind them are inscrutable, and the reply comes in a monotone that would sound dry if it weren't so unmodulated as to defy any emotional attribution.

"Only if you are not a sore loser, honored."
Edited 2016-06-05 18:22 (UTC)

obstacle course

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