001. Test Drive Meme.

[sphererpmod]

TDM
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Welcome, welcome, welcome.

The Council is well aware of how hard it is to get used to that whole kidnapping being brought to a new place you don’t understand is, and because of that, each month they host an open welcome party for all residents both old and new. The party and its theme and location vary by month, and November’s theme is funnily enough Thanksgiving. The location is in the market dome, and all of the stalls have been closed in favor of long, large and communal tables for sitting around and eating and talking. The Market dome is large, roughly three city blocks would fit comfortably inside of it. The stalls themselves are lined with bright lights, giving the activity within more of a carnival atmosphere than that of a normal shopping experience. Around you, the air hums almost, teaming with life and vibrancy among all sides. The way that the tables are seated encourages some intimacy despite the space, offering a large family sort of feeling versus something like a restaurant.

The people there are happy to see new people, that much is evident. People who one doesn’t know are greeted with smiles for the large part, and questions are eagerly answered, even if there is a slight ‘no one really knows’ vagueness to them. For the most part, of course. No city is ever a Utopia, and there are those who give newly arrived people flat looks, and answer questions with short and curt monotoned responses.

There are conversations happening at some parts of the table that aren’t meant for you to hear; they’re just whispered snippets of something about ‘Cruz doesn’t know what she wants.’ Or ‘Tearing is keeping it all under wraps of course, because that’s what she does.’ More common are grumbled complaints about ‘that bastard Tinder won’t stop just because…’ When they notice someone listening, they definitely glare at the listener. But whatever else, and however many secrets they may be keeping from the newcomers, the people complaining seem honest about it.

There’s a huge food table on one side that’s completely loaded with everything one could want. Turkey, and all of the fixings, including vegetarian and vegan options for those who would require them. (Though, someone leans over to mention, “the meat’s not really an animal anyway.”) The food is definitely sort of a potluck, given the variety of types of food in various sorts of serving dishes and states of presentation. Some of the foods include some weird stuff that looks terrible but is delicious. Probably. There are foods thee colors the likes of which only would be found on Earth if someone added an insane amount of food color to them.

Do try the grey stuff though. It’s delicious, ask the dishes. The blue milk? Less so.

However, food isn’t the only thing at the meeting. On the opposite side from the food, there are smaller tables set up with people sitting behind them. In front of the tables are homemade brightly colored signs that advertise things like jobs and clubs. The people and interests here in The Sphere are hugely varied and people are just so earnest to tell newcomers about them. They’re earnest to the point where they may just actually reach out and grab a person in order to force them to stop and to listen to whatever spiel they happen to be working on. Booths that are in attendance for jobs include: Agriculture: “help grow the food that feeds us all! Farming is life!”, The library: “No skill needed! We’ll teach you what you need to know!” The school system: “Teachers wanted! Education is the right of everyone!” Maintenance: “Help keep the domes clean!” As well as various restaurant booths looking for help for both servers and chefs.

For the hobbies involved they are even more varied. Book club: “we live in a multiverse, let’s read the books from it! With wine!” Garden club: “we want to grow stuff on our terms!” Sprinkled among are various skill learning clubs, among them: woodworking club, smithing, robotics, technology, first aid. It seems that despite the fact that no one is required to work in the City, people are still offering skills as needed.

As the night progresses, music starts, and there’s dancing and more adult fare. Liquor is broken out, of various sources from various worlds, including some that offer the Sphere’s own label on them. If discrete enough inquiries are made, a passcode to the Black Market hidden behind some of the stalls is offered. The entrance is hidden enough that someone needs to be looking for it, and there is a rather large bouncer guarding the door and asking for the proper passcode. The passcode of the day happens to be turnips.

Inside the black market is large, but much more dimly lit than the regular market dome that the welcome party was held inside of. There are various pockets of people clustered under bright neon lights. The lights, someone confides to you, are code for what they’re offering. And nearly everything is on offer if a person has the ability to make a trade. Things from home, character skills and even favors tend to be the currency here, but watch out: the hawkers within are shrewd and sharp. If they make a deal with someone, it’s nearly always going to favor them. Eventually.

There’s also a large and loud party happening inside. Think of a rave with a large amount of people who happened to be a bit out of their minds. Drugs aren’t given freely here, they’re too valuable, but should someone want to figure out what they’re rolling on, eventually someone will ask or offer. The drug that they are currently using is called ‘self’ and it’s something that affects your character in an intensely personal way. For some, it’s an experience like your favorite cocktail mixed with a vicodin, and for others it’s just like being drunk. For still more people, it’s like ecstasy without the side effects.

The drug has no physically addicting properties.

Welcome to my nightmare.
For anyone within the architecture dome, the library dome, the sunlight rec dome and any personal dome that people chose, around midnight people will have a curiously tired sensation. They just need to rest their eyes for a moment, or some may fall asleep for longer. No matter the length of time that the character is out, the nightmare infects them, and when they wake they will be filled with a curious but urgent sensation.

They have lost something. The loss can be a physical object, an emotion, a memory, a person or perhaps a sense of self. If the lost person is currently present in the game, they will be unable to be seen by the character who is experiencing the waking nightmare. Urgency will grip the character, because the longer the sensation goes on for, the worse it becomes. Characters can search and scrounge for their loss everywhere, but until the nightmare is over, they will not find whatever it is. Even if it is themselves. Instead, they may be frantic, angry, or just play old scared to death. They need to find this at whatever cost. Where they may find it is something that their own brains will settle on, but of course until the nightmare is over, they will not be able to.

The nightmare ends with either the character falling into a normal, restful sleep naturally or through some other means (someone might mention the infirmary has sedation medication just for the is purpose, or that there’s always a brick) or when they are woken with the intervention of someone else. The intervention of someone else is entirely up to you, and can come from a player character or a NPC, depending on how the player is feeling with the thread. By intervention we mean someone who is able to talk the person out of the nightmare, or to slap or shake them out, or to use some sort of trick that shows them that they are indeed inside of a nightmare. The knowledge that someone is affected by a nightmare must come from an external source, and should come from a character that your character would trust. After all, would you believe someone who told you that you were in a nightmare if you didn’t know that? That said, the best way to deal with waking someone is to remove them from the affected domes. Too bad you don’t know which domes are affected.

Harvest time

The Council hopes that you enjoyed the party the other night, because now it’s time to put out the call for volunteers to come in and help with replenishing the city’s stores from the fields and orchards in the agricultural domes. Your friend neighborhood councillor in charge, Annie Cruz has sent out a message that volunteers who come in to help out will be given payment in the form of lunch and beer and wine.

The jobs involved are varied, and involve harvesting crops such as corn, picking apples or grapes and handing out water or the boxed lunches provided. People will be assigned an area and given a bucket or basket in order to put the fruits of their labor inside of. Either way, there’s a festive atmosphere, and most people who have been there longer than your character seem to be old hat at this.

There’s even a large tub of grapes for people to smash with their feet (“but for fuck’s sake make sure they’re clean first!”). If asked about it, someone will explain that the city makes its own wine and brews its own beer every season! A good chunk of the things picked, you are told slyly, will probably end up drunk rather than eaten, “once the off the top happens.” If asked to explain it, a character will just touch their nose slyly and not say any more. It’s also explained that the grapes crushed with people’s feet don’t actually end up in the general bottles of wine: they’re not savages here!

So, jump in and help with something, or sit down and have lunch and just get to know the people around you with a glass of wine or beer. You’re all here for the foreseeable future, might as well!

Network!

In the Sphere, the network is neural, and accessed via touching the glowing golden circle behind your character’s ear. They can identify themselves with a screen name if you so desire, but messages should be one of three ways or a combination of them. 1. Audio. Your character thinks audible words onto the network. 2. Writing: Your character thinks text into the network. 3. Video. Your character projects a broadcast of a video of themselves onto the network. Replies are determined by the player.

The network needs to be accessed by choice, so character broadcasts are not automatically beamed directly into people’s heads. The Sphere isn’t that rude.

Private messages are allowed by pressing and holding and pressing and holding again as you picture the person in your mind. This can be an image or a name, err more on the side of things being more accessible than less.

Wildcard!
This can be meeting a possible roommate or dorm mate (if one is choosing to go that route), the use of a communal kitchen, waking up and dealing with the things that you were just told about the City, yelling at the sphere, or anything else that your little heart desires. Go nuts.

OOC note: if you feel that something requires an NPC interaction, please go to here and reply with a link and a brief summary of why you need it and the mod will try and be accomodating.

Comments

Questions!

[sphererpmod]

Questions go here!

[galrad]

It says on the FAQ that characters have their injuries/illnesses/what have you healed; does this include scars and long healed amputations?

The FAQ also mentions reserves opening on the 20th; is there a particular time that I couldn't find/see?

Richard Strand | The Black Tapes Podcast

[nobasisinfact]

Welcome ...

Richard had never been one for merrymaking or festivals. He had, of course, gone to them; he'd even gone to them with Charlie years ago when she was small. This strange free-range Thanksgiving was a bit more absurd than he was used to allowing into his life (not that he'd actually 'allowed' it in his life. It had been thrust upon him) however and he wasn't particularly pleased that this whole kidnapping ordeal had ruined the dinner plans that he had just made. After all, it was entirely possible that tomorrow he was walking into a trap and would be murdered by a megalomaniac of a cult leader who seemed obsessed with him. Something that, while he wasn't keen on, he wasn't about to attempt to escape by being trapped in an underwater prison of, someone's, making.

Still, he hadn't eaten, and he was hungry. Getting something to eat and listening to what people had to explain about this place wasn't the worst idea that had crossed his mind today.

Harvest

The fact that someone had asked Richard to help was completely ridiculous to him. Aside from a small few, no one asked Richard to help. Especially not with farming. It just wasn't an area that Richard was well acquainted with.

When he'd arrived, he had no intention of helping, but then there was the offer of wine and he did has a fondness for it. So, of course, he found himself in the orchards picking apples. In a full suit none-the-less.

Harvest

[customplates]

No one ever had to convince Aaron to give a hand in a shared community. He'd survived the apocalypse in one, he'd defended one more than once, hell, back home they were currently defending it again. Gathering and cultivating food was important for everyone and he wasn't afraid of lending a helping hand.

Aaron, though, was clad in warm but loose pants that afforded for ease of movement, what looked like hiking boots, and a slightly flannel looking shirt in blue plaid, sleeves rolled up and ready for work. He sat a basket at the base of one of the apple trees, being slightly over six feet tall giving him the ability to pick the low-hanging fruit without the need for a stool.

No one could avoid seeing Richard, though, and he smiled slightly as he watched the other man, clearly unaccustomed to manual labor, picking on the tree next to him.

"You're new to this whole orchard thing, aren't you?"

Harvest

[11calls]

Of course if there was a call for help, Alex was going to come through and help if then, for no other reason, she likes to help. And of course she also likes to be able to talk to the people that they are helping in order to see if she can get any more information out of them. That's always important, after all. Especially when you still have no idea what the hell is going on in the circumstances that you've happened to be found within. So, her hair is braided down one side over her shoulder, and she's carrying her shoes in one hand. The white of her feet happens to be stained a dark purple, because if Alex is given the offer to try something she's never done before, she's going to take it.

No matter how stupid Richard thinks it is. She's not an idiot, and she knows he's going to think that was dumb as hell. Still was fun though!

There's a rather large grin on her face when she looked up at him, and the amusement is easily seen below her glasses as she watched him pick the apples for a moment before she mused aloud: "you know, if I didn't know you as well as I do, Richard, I'd be surprised that you're still wearing a suit to pick apples. But then again, I was there when you hiked up to a creepy cabin in one." Like an idiot may go unspoken at the end of that sentence. Because honestly how could it not?

Harvest

[arachnis]

"Well," comes the comment from directly behind him, just to the left. "I feel under dressed now."

She's standing at the tree just a few feet away, holding a basket on her hip. It's filled with apples, and while she's not exactly dressed for agriculture work (leather jacket, skinny jeans, knee high boots, aviator sunglasses perched on her head), it's significantly more casual than he is.

She hadn't really been prepared for any of this either, but she could get information about this place while helping out. Two birds, one stone, etc.

welcome

[otrazhenie]

Elena wasn’t afraid to try some of the more odd foods offered at the meeting; after over a month of eating strange alien cuisine, everything here was rather tame in comparison. A little too brightly colored in some cases, but that didn’t effect the taste. And taste was the only thing that mattered to her about food now; it was easier to eat things that didn’t taste completely terrible when the only reason for her to eat food at all was to keep up appearances. Normal human teenagers didn’t drink from blood bags, after all.

So, with a plateful of small servings of the various dishes, Elena turned to find somewhere to sit and promptly ran right into someone. The plate didn’t go flying though, and the man didn’t end up with one bit of food on him — thanks to vampire reflexes.

Alex Reagan | The Black Tapes Podcast | OTA

[11calls]

Welcome.

So, they were kidnapped. Again, but this time they weren't in Seattle any more. Granted, they weren't going to be in Seattle in the morning either, but at least then they would have had some sort of choice in the matter. Being here wasn't a choice, but if nothing else it meant that they needed to chose how they accepted it or not. Alex was accepting of it; they were here and there was nothing else to be done about it. So, she'd gone to the welcome dinner that had been put on. She couldn't not, not with all of the questions that she had swirling around in her brain about this place and what she had been told of the Sphere.

But right now, the best resource that Alex could find was people, so she was wandering around the tables that were set up for jobs and clubs. One of the first places that she'd found was the coffee cart and she was relieved; a place without coffee was something that would have been enough to send her back to her pod with her blanket over her head. Satiated and on the second overly large paper cup, Alex's normally smiling face was fixed into a rather large frown, and her eyes were wide in disbelief as she just commented to the person who was next to her in her radio ready, very Canadian voice: "okay, but how can there really not be any sort of news network here?! How do people stay informed?!"

Nightmare

Alex Reagan wasn't unused to dozing off for a few minutes in her chair at work, or on the sofa at Strand's or most anywhere she was. Randomly catching sleep where you could tended to go hand and hand with insomnia, and Alex's had been chasing her for almost three years now. So, when she'd fallen asleep sitting in the library dome, reading about the history of some of the people here, she wasn't exactly surprised. Not even by the sensation of the red crease that the spine of the book had left on her normally pale cheeks.

But then something tugged at her, and her dark eyes went wide in their terror behind the rims of her glasses. Fingers randomly patted down her pockets, the gesture becoming more frantic as she reached out for the heavy bag that she always carried that had been on her pod when she'd woken up. After a loud series of shuffling noises (too loud for a library, no doubt) her desperation reached a peak, and she just dumped the bag out on the table that she'd been sitting at. Her recorder and phone hit the wood with a large thunk, followed by the softer ones of various pens and notebooks hitting and rolling away and onto the wooden floor.

"Oh my god," the words were soft at first, practically all sighed together, and then they came once more with desperation. "Oh my god. Hey. Sorry to bother you but have you seen..." She left the sentence hanging for a moment, her hands stretching and forming a vague shape in the air between them. "I mean, it has to be here, right? It has to!"

Network: Audio. UN AlexReaganradio

[Due to the fact that Alex Reagan is a podcaster by nature and trade, her network posts are going to tend to default to being audio. Like this one. She sounds sharp and curious, and very Canadian. Yeah, "aboots"are a thing. Yes, she's heard it before.]

Hi, I'm Alex Reagan, and I'm obviously new here. I know that there's not been any sort of formal news source for... Well, a while I suppose? And I'm wondering if that would be something that people are interested in. I'm a reporter back home, so it just seems like a natural sort of fit.

If you are interested, what sort of stories would you want us to cover? Are there any that interest you more than others?

Network; UN justaaron

[customplates]

[Bear with him, Alex. He's not used to thinking thoughts into audio, but somehow it works.]

I don't even know where we'd think of starting. Are you thinking of running a news show or a paper?

Simon Reese | The Black Tapes Podcast

[interconnectedness]

Welcome

This place is less than comfortable for Simon and a welcome party or whatever this is really doesn't do much to settle his discomfort. There's more than enough doubt about the intentions of those around him, disbelief that any of this is real and then also wondering if he has somehow been transported to a strange part of Hell.

The latter idea is taking hold when someone starts getting particularly chatty with him about the locale and he doesn't bother to say anything at all before walking away from them. The question is in the back of his mind that maybe he has finally lost his sanity, the pieced together sanity that many people wouldn't be apt to calling any form of sane.

He's not particularly easy to approach, though he does finally get some food before falling toward any less populated areas to watch the festivities from what distance he can get.

Wildcard

[ Hit me with your best shot. ]

Welcome

[customplates]

Aaron isn't sure the last time he'd seen a Thanksgiving spread, and all this seemed so started it set even his hackles to raising. Still, even if the food could be dangerous, you had to eat, living through the apocalypse has a way of teaching you that, and he did this evening. Aaron's also a people person, though normally slightly withdrawn himself, and if this place is more than just a weird, shared delusion, he knows you can't survive unless you're together.

It's in the spirit of that togetherness that he approaches Simon at his less occupied spot along the wall, snagging a couple glasses of wine on the way and offering one to him.

"Welcome parties aren't really my thing either."

elena gilbert | the vampire diaries (s72 crau)

[otrazhenie]

n i g h t m a r e

[ When Elena wakes with a gasp, a book dropping from her hand, she forgets that she's in public and shouldn't let her enhanced abilities be seen. She doesn't remember no one can know she's a vampire, no one should observe how fast she can be — all that matters is what she's lost. Who she's lost.

Racing across the dome in a blur of vampire speed, she remembers at the entrance to the library, but it's so hard to reason why it's more important to be slow than to find them. The person she's lost. The people. The ones she's connected to forever. The sense of urgency wraps around her heart like a fist, squeezing tighter with every second and pushing her forward. Through the agricultural dome, the personal domes, back through the library again. She searches, growing closer to sheer panic with every second, but still she goes on.

She can't stop searching, not until she finds them, even if it means revealing herself for what she truly is. ]

h a r v e s t

[ The benefit of vampire strength? Elena's been working at the harvest for hours, picking apples and gathering corn, and she isn't the least bit tired. The downside of vampire strength? Having to hide it from everyone else.

It takes more effort than she'd like to keep her movements slow, to pretend that she feels the weight of the baskets overflowing with heavy apples. She makes the occasional exaggerated show of struggling to lift the basket or straining against the weight of a particularly full one, because as tedious as it may be, it's the only way to guarantee her own safety, and the safety of any other vampires who may be brought here.

There's even once when she stumbles purposefully near one of the other volunteers, sending a few ears of corn rolling toward the other person. Help a girl out with her elaborate charade? ]

n e t w o r k

[ The network is... strange. It's like being connected to the Nest, but without the emotions and thoughts attached. Flat and empty instead of deep and nuanced. But even with those differences, Elena takes to it easily, adapting quickly to the new method of communication. ]

Has anyone here heard of Mystic Falls, Virginia?

Harvest

[customplates]

[Aaron is more than willing to help out wherever he needs to, and the need of a community to have sufficient food stores is at the top of his list. They're miles beneath the ocean. If anything goes wrong, they're the only ones who can do anything about it, and they're all in this together.

He starts at the sound of Elena's stumble, not hesitating even for a moment to crouch and begin gathering the spilled vegetables, he smiles over to her reassuringly.]

Are you okay? Maybe you should take it easy.

Eric Raleigh || TWD

[amorea_mortuus_sum]

Welcome
[ The whole setup is so familiar to the community parties that Deanna tended to throw, but on a much larger scale. For the most part, Eric feels like a fish out of water, mingling on the sidelines with a glass of wine in hand, simply watching at first. He gets a little more adventurous once the moment stops feeling so surreal, coming up to a mostly-empty table, grabbing the back of an empty chair. ]

Is this seat taken?

Harvest
[ Of course he volunteered to help with the harvest when the time came- in order to live in a community, one had to be a part in it. There's plenty to do, and he's certainly no stranger to manual labor. The apple trees are like a siren call, so he heads to those, first. Finding a tree with low enough fruit, Eric picks away, filling his basket.

He can't even help himself, he starts humming as he works. It's such a peaceful and normal task that he hasn't really been able to do in so long, it's enjoyable. ]

Wildcard
[ Throw something else my way! ]

Welcome

[customplates]

[Aaron was never comfortable at welcome parties, or any other sort of community get together, but this? There was too much information to find here to avoid it. Besides, it was also possible these people were different from the well-meaning but unintentionally derogatory people he usually avoided.

His mouth went dry as he passed near the table, though, and heard a familiar and deeply comforting voice that suddenly made this whole affair a lot more livable. He maneuvered to approach Eric from behind, comforted by the fact that he was standing straight, and there didn't seem to be any blood anywhere.]

I think it is now.

Ambrose Spellman ( Chilling Adventures of Sabrina )

[abtruse]

Welcome

Earlier in the welcome party, Ambrose tried a few things but never quite stuck to one place as he wandered around, catching bits of conversation and trying to gather as much information as he could. He'd never heard of a place like this before, it's certainly not Hell or Heaven, he's not sure whether a Praise Satan is called for on either regard, though. No, this place was something else and it's hard to say whether that something else is good, bad, dangerous or all three. He seemed to clearly have more freedom here, though, so that was one thing he could get behind and put under the good column.

As the evening progresses, Ambrose is definitely among the first to go for the liquor. He has a few drinks and starts making his way chatting around. He's friendly enough so it's likely you might get greeted by him without preamble.

But before too long, because he's Ambrose, he's found himself with the correct information to get to the black market. There again he takes in what he can, information can be the best currency after all and then the rave like party. Now that is something he can get behind and he's more than happy to join in and cajole anyone around looking more dubious with a "Come on, it'll be great fun."

Wildcard

[ Hit me with your best shot. ]

[bananaclip]

Dayna raises an eyebrow at the young man, a bemused smirk curving the line of her lips. "Oh, well, if you say so," she says.

Dayna, for her part, hasn't seen anything like this since the world ended, or at least since disco died. Nobody in Boulder had organized any festivities like these, and nothing like this would have been allowed in Las Vegas, she thinks anyways. Flagg had his way of keeping everyone in line, as much as she hadn't expected that when she'd made her way across the desert to arrive there. Dayna had been to her share of parties, of course, as any college graduate her age had, but all of that had seemed to come to an end with the flu.

So she doesn't make a move toward the revelers after making her remark, simply looks at Ambrose with that same expression for another moment longer, then shakes her head with a small chuckle.

"Honestly, I feel completely out of place here," she adds. "Are you a newcomer as well?"

Keith Kogane | Voltron: Legendary Defender

[galrad]

I. Welcome, welcome, welcome

[ Look, there was probably nothing wrong with the food on display, odd colours and all- probably- but honestly being kidnapped and torn from the rest of Voltron didn't exactly leave Keith in a particularly good mood, and certainly not mood enough to want to indulge in the smorgasbord presented. Besides, who knew what was in the blue milk anyway?! What Keith wanted, what he really wanted was information. Someone had to know a way to get the hell out of here. It's the bottom of the ocean, not the center of a black hole. There had to be a way.

Nobody seemed to be too accommodating about his inquiries, though. Mood getting sourer by the minute, Keith shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking a tin can down one of the sphere's busy streets, watching as it bounced off the back of someone's ankle or thigh. Blinking, he had, at least, the self-awareness to be a little sorry for it, and he shrugged at the person, offering a soft mutter of ] Sorry. Hard to get into the- Thanksgiving spirit when you have more important things to do.

II. Welcome to my Nightmare

[ Shiro is in trouble again. He didn't know how he knew it- but he did. It gripped him, dug it's claws in and crushed the air from his lungs with worry. Shiro was out there- somewhere, and he was hurting, he was in trouble, in pain. Keith had to find him. He'd promised. As many times as it takes. As many times as it takes. It's all Keith can think about, knowing Shiro is out there. That he's lost, he needs help. He was near frantic with it, obsessive and angry with the idea that someone was keeping Shiro from him and hurting him. He hadn't come across the galaxy more times than he could count to find the other just to leave him now. He had to be on the Sphere, he just... had to.

He's a man on a mission; a man possessed. Storming through the markets without much care for the people who get in his way, looking high strung- maybe even a little manic. All the worst possibilities playing through his mind. ] Shiro! Shiro!

III. Harvest Time

[ Honestly it was strange to just... have so much time on his hands. Sure, they'd had down time on the castle ship sometimes- but then he had been training, learning, working hard- doing something. Here, there's no sparring robot, nothing to occupy himself with during his free time. None of the jobs available had really struck his fancy just yet, but he needed to something. So when the call for harvesting volunteers went out, well... at least it was something to do. And with luck, Keith wouldn't have to worry too much about dealing with other people to do it.

When he got there, he was a little surprised honestly. Seeing the grape stomping was... strange. ]

I thought they didn't really do that. [ He said absently to whoever was closest, wrinkling his nose and crossing his arms over his chest.] Remind me not to drink the wine.

IV. Wildcard

[ooc; Want something not listed here or want to start something of your own with Keith? Go for it! Or PP me at oresteia and we can plot something out! ]

iii

[sphererpmod]

[The older woman who happens to hear his comment as she walks past just stops for a moment, her brow raised as she looks at him. Her dark eyes shift over him appraisingly for a long moment, before responds in a very direct tone, one that is full of authority.]

Most of the wine isn't pressed like that, [she gestures vaguely to the tub where people were stomping around and enjoying themselves.] The people who purchase those bottles know exactly what they're buying, and trust me that shit is too expensive for giving out when Annie does these things. Last I heard it was going for triple the amount as one of our normal everyday bottles cost. More depending on how it's been since the grapes were harvested like this.

Kate Collins | Everbody's Gone to the Rapture | will match format

[patternseeker]

Welcome 1

[ Through the glass, the lights in the other domes look like the Pattern, magnified and scattered across the ocean floor, close enough to feel its draw, too far to join it. God, what happened? Is this her happy place? Did the Pattern bring her here because she'd find her best life here? It seems so... wrong.

At least it's not Yaughton. No meddling mother-in-law, no cheating husband, no hypocritical mistress. No priest trying to tell her he gets that outsider feeling, no friendly valley farmer to commiserate with -- okay fine, she misses Frank.

Kate stands by a window with a drink in hand, staring out at the darkness broken only by the light of the other domes. ]


Welcome 2

No, I'm-- Is there an astronomy class? Or a club? I'd be great at those.

[ The person pushing for her to teach is being Very Insistent here. ]

Look, [ Kate says firmly. ] I'm not qualified to teach outside of my field. So it's either astronomy or physics--

Physics! Thank you! You're hired! [ The person leaves now, Kate's name and contact info in hand, beaming. ]

Oh god, what'd I just sign up for?

[ It looks like she could use a drink, or maybe some conversation, idk. This is a lot to process. ]


wildcard

[ Run into her during farming or write her into your character's nightmare! Hmu via pm if you want anything specific (: ]

[arachnis]

[ She isn't alone for long. Natasha comes to stand next to her, her own drink in hand, gaze steady on the inky blackness spreading out before them, pinpointed by the lights beyond. ]

It's beautiful.

[ A pause. ]

If you're into existential terror.

Aaron | The Walking Dead

[customplates]

I. Welcome

In any new situation, it's important to know what to expect, from the setting, from the people already in it, from yourself. Aaron isn't typically one to attend welcome dinners unless it's required, but while they were informed this one would be optional, it was anything but. He pays careful attention to the whispered conversations, though is also attentive of peoples' expressions and hastens to find an empty seat once hie's worn out his eavesdropping welcome.

On his way, he does grab a plate and pile it high with turkey (though he could have done without learning it wasn't really meat), dressing, mashed potatoes, sauteed squash, and some strange slightly mealy and very blue sauce, before having a seat. He'll be making the most of this meeting/party, though, and nods a greeting if he happens to be near someone else.

"Hello. Is this place as new to you as it is to me?"


II. Network - Audio: UN; justaaron

I know we all attended a welcome banquet, but I doubt we all had a chance to meet each other. I'm sure the situation here is far from ideal, but we are all trapped here for the foreseeable future, and that means we all need to work together.

[He pauses for a moment to avoid too much of a download all at once.]

I think a good place to start is with who we were before. It...worked for a woman I respected, and for the community she built and I think it'll work now. I don't think our life stories are necessary, but this is really just a starter circle anyway.

[Another pause, this one a bit shorter.]

I'll get us started. My name is Aaron and I used to work with a NGO, that's a Non-Governmental Organization. I was responsible for negotiating the distribution of clean drinking water to areas of the Niger River Delta and some areas of Liberia. I'm good at reading people, at organizing projects, and I can pick up on new skills pretty quickly. I'm also pretty good with my hands. I'm used to managing my own projects, but I'm...not really upper leadership material, but I look forward to hearing from the rest of you.

audio: UN; eraleigh

[amorea_mortuus_sum]

Did she lose your respect or did something happen?

Rhys the Company Man | Borderlands

[10milliondollars]

Welcome

Slowly, Rhys was getting used to the strange place. Nothing seemed too sinister, and the atmosphere felt more relaxed than that of Pandora. He had yet to be attacked by anyone or anything. That was a plus, right?

He's milling around the meeting area, a plate of food in his robotic hand, a soft golden glow coming from his left eye as he scans the room. He's not connected to the Echonet here, but his internal server is still somewhat useful. The robotics club draws his eye. That was something familiar. He'd built his new cybernetics, after all. And coding was like a second language to him. Without watching where he's going, he makes a beeline for the booth, paying no attention to anyone he has to elbow past.

Nightmare

It's missing. He knows it's missing. He doesn't have to check his pocket to know, but he checks it all the same. In the middle of the walkway, he stops to pat himself down, a frown drawing down the corners of his lips.

"Oh, come on!" he cries, exasperated, as he finishes checking every single pocket. "There's no way I lost it, I can't...lose it!" Rhys looks down to scan the floor, widening his stance so that no one accidentally steps on his lost item.

Wildcard

[Go for it!]

Nightmare

[customplates]

Aaron was simply going about his business, from points A to B (where really didn't matter considering) and stops short when Rhys exclaims, stopping and watching the man for a moment before taking a cautious step forward.

"Okay, take it easy. What did you lose? Maybe I can give you a hand in finding it."

neo ( the matrix )

[concurrency]

WELCOME X3 - PG-13 EDITION

[ The last thing Neo remembers is being shot in the body and pressing flat against a wall, everything going dark as he slid down and over to his right side. After that, the voice of a man-- it's okay, everything is going to be all right-- and when he opened his eyes, the man was nowhere to be found.

Now he's here, at a party. His arms cross over his torso-- still defensive, still feeling vulnerable-- and he watches as people eat and be merry, watches as they line up for jobs and hobbies and yeah, no, this can't be fucking real, not when he's sure he never made it out of the Matrix to begin with.

He's looking at whatever you're holding, the food undoubtedly bizarre. Neo's lips are turned into a frown. ] How's that even taste? [ Maybe the reason chicken tastes like everything is because they never figured out what to make it taste like.

This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.

But it's not like you know that. ]

Is it... good? [ Because it looks disgusting. ]

WELCOME X3 - RESTRICTED

[ Turnips. It's a stupid password. But then most everything here is stupid, he thinks (and truthfully it's only stupid because Neo doesn't understand what's going on, and he hates every bit about the vulnerability associated with uncertainty).

People keep offering him bizarre things-- mainframe codes to Zion (can't be real), a machine that emits an electromagnetic pulse (can't be real), a pair of sunglasses without any legs to hold them up (can't be real, and it's not like Neo deserves to wear anything like that). He isn't interested in any of these wares, not for any reasons, but he is interested in where these people get their information.

So he starts tailing one of those merchants as they leave their stall, his arms still wrapped around himself and his brows tight and furrowed. They turn to walk down an alley and Neo is quick to follow, walking diagonally from where he stands to make his way there too--

--and trips over something or other instead.

Maybe it's your foot. Maybe he's just literally bumped into you. Maybe something fell on the ground and he didn't notice. Either way, he's losing his balance, his hand is reaching out to grip, and his fingers curl into the first thing he can reach: your clothes.

He lets go quickly, of course, falling down onto his back. ] Sorry! [ Neo sounds frantic for all his status as a culprit, but he's turning onto his elbows and watching that alleyway and swearing under his breath. ]

Sorry, I'll make it up to you, [ he scrambles up to his feet, ready and raring to go ] I just have to catch up with that man--

NIGHTMARE

[ All these people are frantic. To be fair, however, so is Neo-- his heart feels heavy in his chest and his breathing is laboured, and it feels like everything there is has gone horribly, terribly wrong.

But pain is only real when your mind makes it real, he remembers. And while he keeps seeing it in his mind-- Morpheus, his friend and mentor, left alone in a torture chamber because Neo couldn't save him-- he knows that that isn't true. He'd saved him; the touch of Morpheus' hand when Neo pulled him to safety had been the most real anything had ever felt in the Matrix.

It doesn't make his chest hurt any less, though. And it doesn't make him feel any more like he isn't going to cry from the sheer loss of it.

He pushes on. He has to be better than this, stronger than this-- it's got to wear off somehow. There has to be a way.

This is what he tries to tell you, gaze serious and piercing as it meets your own. ] This [ a gasp ] isn't real. Whatever it's making you think, or feel-- it's not real. It isn't. I promise.

[ But is he comforting you or himself? ]

NETWORK ( AUDIO ) | UN: NEO

[ The voice in your head is very calm and very clear in its enunciation. It's undoubtedly male. It speaks with purpose. ]

Hello. If you can hear this, my name is Neo and I'm leaving a message on what I'm guessing is a universal channel.

The last memory I have before waking up here is getting shot multiple times. After that, I heard a friend of mine named Morpheus when I woke up, but he wasn't there when I opened my eyes. As far as I can tell, he isn't anywhere here.

What about you, whoever's listening? Who are you? What's your story?

Network (Audio)

[10milliondollars]

[Rhys freezes, looking around to see if he can see the speaker. Everyone around him is busy with various things. He shifts in his chair, trying to act normal.]

Uh...hi? I'm Rhys. [Should he trust this Neo? Or should he lie?]

[He's going to lie.]

I'm here on business. My company, Atlas, is looking to expand. I guess I rule out the possibility of this being the afterlife, huh~?

Sabine Faber | X-Company

[presumptives]

Welcome

Sabine has never seen anything like the place she was in now. The people were different, the food was both familiar and not familiar and no one that she knew was anywhere to be found. There’s a solid ache in the pit of her stomach to think of where her daughter Ania might be. How was she supposed to know if she can’t find her, can’t find anyone at all.

There’s a unhappy sigh as after another search of the festivities she’s comes up empty. A drink is found, she didn’t care what it was as long as it was alcohol.

“You would think if they spirit people away they might at least bring their children,” she says in complaint if someone sits near her. She’s just tipsy enough to speak her mind rather than societal pleasantries.

Network
un: Sabine Faber

Does this really work as they say?

Network - un: justaaron

[customplates]

It's a little strange at first, but yeah, it does.

Are you settling in alright?

Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson (CRAU) | Vikings

[ragnarsson]

Welcome

Strangely enough, the welcome reminds Ivar quite a bit of the festivals he'd experienced back in Riverview. Friendly people, plenty of food, and the booths all seem like they'd fit right in where he'd just come from.

Since he's long since learned to be adventurous with his food choices, considering the food of Norway in 818 is terribly bland, he takes quite a bit of everything until his plate is in danger of overflowing. He plunks down next to you, a questionably large tankard of ale in one of his hands.

There isn't much that's too odd about the teenager, save for two things: both his eyes and sclera are blue, and the fact he's wearing a pair of leg braces that look like they came straight out of some futuristic setting, courtesy of one Tony Stark back in the Quarantine. He starts chomping down on food, occasionally looking at you like he might be considering murdering you. It's nothing personal, really, he just looks like that all the time.

"Wonder if they're all trying to fatten us up for slaughter?" He poses the question to you, and yes, he is serious.

Nightmare

He's lost something. No, someone. He tries to think of who it is in his head, but curiously, all the faces are blurred. He realizes when he tries to think of his family, any of them, they're all just gone. He was always afraid this would happen. That someday, he wake up, and everyone he cared about would be gone.

A sense of dread and panic fill him up, the twin emotions pushing anything else to the side. Maybe...maybe they haven't all left him? Maybe one of them is here. If he can just find one of them, than he knows these emotions would leave him. So he goes off to search for them.

One might want to get him to stop eventually, though that will be hard with how stubborn and determined he is to find his family. His leg braces take a lot of the strain off his legs, but still, going too long is going to end up with him possibly hurting himself. Best not to start things off here by breaking a bone.

Network

[Accessing the network is a bit different than back in the Quarantine, but Ivar's adjusted to worse. After a moment or two, he's got it down. He sends a video message of himself, a nineteen year old who has startlingly ice-blue eyes, and odder, faintly blue sclera.]

Is there anyone here who came from a city on a moon called the Quarantine? If so, contact me. If not, well, it doesn't matter now.

[Really, after getting dragged from his home world once, a second time isn't so bad.]

network; audio (un: obsidian)

[obsidien]

Pray tell, what doesn't matter now?

laura | x-men | ota | hover spanish for translations.

[wildhorses]

a. FESTIVITIES

How do you find a safe vantage point to hide in a dome? Laura sticks to hiding under tables instead. While she prefers the higher ground-- people rarely remember to look up-- she'll take what she can get. Darting from table to table, she's pretty quick and nimble; you may see her, but she'll be gone in an instant.

Then again, her stealth isn't that good. Eventually, a child's grubby hand reaches up from underneath the table to blindly grab at whatever food is laid out on it, sometimes several times. She eats whatever she finds, but it's... messy.

b. DREAMS

Laura finds a safe place to sleep in a hallway, far from the sounds of others. She crawls atop some stacked boxes, safely out of view, and dozes curled up like a dog, smeared with grit and food.

Bad dreams aren't new, but this sort is...

She needs to it. The... thing that will kill the bad man, the worst man, the one who wears her father's face and isn't. She knows she has to. Nothing else makes sense.

"¿Dónde está?" She crawls down from her boxes, and claws come out of one of her fists. She begins to hack at one of the boxes angrily. Her yelling is high pitched, echoing. "¿Quien tomó?"

c. HARVEST

Laura fails completely to pick food, and instead sits and eats it until someone guides her toward a more productive task. Which is good, because she has a lot of aggression to take out on these grapes.

She missed the part about washing her feet first, though. Nope, she's still a little grubby and a lot grape-y, jumping up and down with wild abandon and something even approaching glee. If you stop to stare, she'll stare back, the happiness disappearing from her expression before she whirls around, her back to you, to keep on stomping. Ooh, cold shoulder from an eleven-year-old. How you gonna take that?

d. NETWORK
UN: garras

esto no canada. este es un lugar estupido

la comida sabe mal

e. WILDCARD

[go for it, man. im down for whatever. feel free to pm / hmu @ wehwalt if youre feeling it.]

a.

[themancomesaround]

Logan's given the jobs and clubs little more than a glance, instead heading straight for the food. Looks like they didn't realize it ain't October anymore--this spread's the best Thanksgiving meal he's ever seen, considering he usually spends the holiday in dive bars.

So he loads up a plate of everything he recognizes (and a couple of things he doesn't) and takes a seat. He leans hard on one arm, unconsciously guarding his food like a stray dog as he eats. All of it's good, even the damn grey stuff, just about makes up for the fact that he was kidnapped out of his own camper for this little under-the-sea adventure. The one thing that mars it is the hand that reaches up from beneath the table and smacks itself right into his mashed potatoes.

He grabs for the wrist attached to it, firm but not bruising, and gives a little tug. Come up from under there, whoever you are. "The hell are you doing?"

rogue | x-men: days of future past

[theycalledmeacurse]

w e l c o m e

[ Being kidnapped and brought to an underwater city isn't all that shocking to Rogue. Perhaps it's because of the turn her life has taken in the last decade, with the war and her captivity. Perhaps she's simply too numb already to register anything like shock or panic, because all she feels is a sense of resignation and acceptance for her present circumstances. She's here in this strange place at the bottom of the ocean for an indeterminate amount of time... and then she'll return home to die. Or be reset, whichever happens to be the case. Either way, she won't remember any of this, and it's easier to be numb than to think about what that means.

But even in this state, she appreciates the people around her (alive and well) and the food on the table (fresh and appetizing). Do any of her fellow new arrivals understand just how lucky they are to be here instead of somewhere like the world she'd been pulled from? She has to hope that the answer is no, that this is the worst place they've ever been, because everyone here deserves the kind of life she'd never had. A better life.

Choosing a few items from the table, she piles small portions on a plate before moving back from the crowd. Despite the long green sleeves and black gloves that cover her, she still worries about something happening — it only takes one wrong move to cause an accident that she might not be able to pull away from.

Stepping carefully through the crowd, her elbow grazes someone's side as she moves past them, eliciting an immediate apology in a smooth southern drawl. ] I'm so sorry, sugar, I didn't mean to bump into you like that.

h a r v e s t

[ While Rogue would like nothing more than to be helping bring in the harvest with so many of the others, after just a few minutes of work she comes to the unfortunate conclusion that she simply doesn't have the strength for it right now. After years of captivity, her stamina isn't what it used to be, so she instead decides to help with passing out lunch and wine to those who have spent their time gathering the crops. ]

Thanks so much for all your hard work today, sugar. [ It's said with a friendly smile as she holds out a plate of food with a gloved hand. ] Everyone really appreciates it.

w i l d c a r d

[ In the mood for something else? Give me your best shot, or hit me up at taintedcrimson and we'll get something set up. ]

@ welcome

[divaricate]

[ Wanda offers her a small smile and shakes her head slightly. ] It's okay. I barely noticed. [ Which was true. ] You okay?

Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age

[tevinteraltus]

i. welcome

[It is, of course, beyond question whether or not ridiculous demands will be made after one is provided with food, lodging, and rather pleasant clothing. When no expense is spared, it should simply be assumed one will be paying for all the luxuries at a later date. He left his troubled thoughts about dislocation and responsibility back in his strange new residence at the implications of a party, though. Food was grand, and the exquisite dining chambers and strange local hawkers distracting and enticing, but what brought the man in the shining green silks (compliments of the pods) to finding a chair at the banquet was the wine. It wasn't any vintage with which he was familiar, but the aroma was enough to bring a smile to his lips.

Whoever is lucky enough to take a seat at his side will find a glass quickly filled for them and slid in their direction.]

I insist. Nothing really dulls the shock of finding oneself trapped beneath untold leagues of an ocean with the imminent threat of crushing oblivion floating just there, through mere inches of glass, quite like a full-bodied wine.


ii. network - audio; un: d.pavus

My now this is quite the innovation, is it not? I'll stay any criticism in regards to the invasiveness of its application for the moment and note how truly remarkable it is. It does, after all, do nothing more than invoke my velvety voice to the waiting masses, if I so choose, or project an image, denote the written word, all at the mere application of my will. Marvelous!

Admittedly impressive technological baubles not withstanding, I address you all in the spirit of inquest. Preliminary introductions first, of course, as impersonal a method of interaction as this is. I am Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Skyhold by way of Minrathous. If any of that is familiar to you, bravo! It would seem you hail from Thedas. I am unfamiliar with the world on which we have supposedly found ourselves. "Earth" I believe it is called, and we currently reside beneath a great deal of its ocean, which I understand to be something of a shocking development to some of you, even those who call this world home. I'm interested, as it were, to know how many of you there are actually, native to this place, and how many of us are not. It may seem innocuous, but we were after all, brought here for some reason and I'd like to determine what.

iii. wildcard

[Do your thing, peoples!]

i

[obsidien]

[The only reason Sidurgu would tolerate such a thing is because he just really wants a godsdamned drink, and he'll deal even with just wine, despite how weak it is for his preferences. He's just not expecting to have sat down beside a perky Hyur, but he's not going to complain when he's immediately served with a drink.

Though he can appreciate the dry wit.]

If they had something stronger then there would be more than just a dulling of the mind. [Oblivion at the bottom of the bottle is his favourite... Until you wake up, anyway.]

Beverly Marsh | IT (2017)

[gristle]

Welcome food stuff.

Despite living in a small town back home, Beverly Marsh had never seen anything like this. Even coming from Riverview with it's weird festivals and things, the people here felt totally different. Everyone, it seemed just wanted to keep feeding her. It was weird. Even when was holding a full plate of food, some well-meaning adult still wanted to put more on it because they kept shaking their head that she was 'such a skinny thing.' Honestly, that's what happened when you ended up being given a stipend to pay for things and you just... end up spending it on candy and stupid things.

It wasn't a great system.

Eventually, however, Bev finds herself sitting at a table next to someone who doesn't look like they're gonna bother her too much, and she just picks up a fork and picks at the gray stuff on her plate. "Okay, but what is this?" The look on her face tells everyone just how weird she finds food that color.

Network: Audio: Marshes

[Bev is really really not used to this, and she sounds really uncertain but there's something that's important that she needs to ask. Well, two things really. The first one is more important though:]

Uh. Has anyone here heard of Riverview? Like a place not just as a word.

[And also:]

Does anyone know where I can get some smokes?

welcome

[justlittle]

Bean doesn't have much on his plate. And yet he still thinks it's more than he really needs. He's happily eating away at it, though, no matter what color it is.

"It's food," he answers simply, eyeing the girl who asked the question critically. She looks well fed enough, if on the skinny end. Not malnourished, though, like Bean had been for the first few years of his life. Shouldn't she know what food was?

"You eat it to not die."

Bean (Julian Delphiki) | Enderverse

[justlittle]

welcome

Bean has never seen so much food in one place. He would think, with such limited resources, they really shouldn't be wasting this much food on one night. But then, he's never really celebrated any holidays either. Thanksgiving wasn't celebrated on the streets of Rotterdam, and it certainly wasn't in Battle School either. He isn't quite sure what to make of the grand celebration, choosing to fill his plate as he always does with only so much food as he has decided he needs in order to stave off the worst of his hunger. He isn't put off by the fact that the meat isn't meat. It's been a long time since he ate real meat, anyway.

He finds himself a seat at a table that doesn't look too occupied, but not one so far removed that he won't be able to listen in on other people's conversations. He dismisses most of the gossip as not worth his attention, but files it away for later analysis anyway. He has a perfect memory, so he won't forget who said what. He keeps quiet, only speaking when spoken to, eating his meal in solitude. He may paint an odd picture, a child so young, so small, sitting all by himself. But he's not scared. Not really. This Sphere is a mystery to be solved, and he's confident he's the one who can solve it.

harvest

[ There aren't many jobs that a seven year old is suited for, but Bean can easily hand out water bottles to people who have been doing the heavy lifting and picking of vegetables. It offers him the ability to filter around, observing the different areas of the agricultural dome. If he gets caught snooping somewhere he shouldn't be, he just quietly offers the person who caught him a bottle. ]

Here. Aren't you thirsty?

nightmare

Bean was in the library when it hit. He'd been reading as much as he could find on the history of the Sphere-- though there wasn't much there to be found-- when he felt himself growing unusually tired. The sudden onset of the feeling worried him. He knew his body's limitations better than anyone, and there was no reason he should feel so sleepy so suddenly. Still, no matter how he tried to fight it, he ended up falling asleep.

When he wakes, he does a quick self-assessment, just to make sure he hadn't been tampered with. Then he turns back to the books he'd been reading. Except, he can't remember where he had left off. In fact, he can't remember anything he had read before nodding off. He begins to look more and more distressed. Bean's memory is perfect. The only things in his life that he can't recall with perfect clarity happened before he was eight or nine months old. He abandons his reading, seeking to find someone else in the library to question about this strange occurrence. Was it just him, who woke up altered somehow? Defective? Or was there something larger going on.

"Excuse me," he asks of the first person he sees. "Did you fall asleep just now?"

Whether they will answer him or scold him for being out past his bedtime, Bean doesn't know.

network - un: Dimak

What country has jurisdiction over this installation? Has anyone been able to identify anything about how it was built, or why?

[ Bean can't explain why he chose to use his teacher's name as an alias, other than the fact that he doesn't want to have to give any explanations over his own moniker. And, on the off chance someone recognizes the name, it's probably better to be thought of as an adult. ]

harvest

[customplates]

[Picking apples is far from the most strenuous task that's ever been set before Aaron, and he takes to it quickly, knowing the task is important, that it will help feed all of them, and they are a group that needed to work together, not against one another, if they were to make this place work. There weren't any children who called Alexandria home anymore, except for Rick's daughter, so Bean stuck out at him was someone to keep an eye on, because he's young if nothing else, though Aaron is good enough to reading people to note there's a great deal of intelligence in that little boy, and a survivor at that.

He wasn't going to dissuade his inquisitiveness, of course, but he doesn't want the boy to get hurt snooping where he doesn't belong, either, and so makes his way in Bean's direction as the boy's creeping by one of the supply tents, but stops short at the offer. That's a sharp kid.

He takes the bottle with a smile, though.]

Don't mind if I do. Thanks. [He nods.] I'm Aaron.

Rick Grimes ( The Walking Dead )

[redhandle]

A. Welcome

There's definitely something about this place that leaves Rick feeling uneasy. It's not just the fact that neither Carl nor Michonne or Judith for that matter were there and that left him anxious to find a way back to them. This place seemed Impossible, impossible in a way that is beyond any other impossible places that he'd found since the world ended.

So, Rick can be found observing for the most part, looking for familiar faces. He'll eat when something appeals to him. Food seems plenty but the habit of not over indulging has become ingrained in him. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

B. Harvest

Communal effort, at least, is familiar. Rick doesn't waste any time in making an effort to get involved in the harvest work. At different points he can be found harvesting different foods or offering water to other workers. He's still trying to gather information but keeping his hands busy helps with the anxiety held in the back of his mind.

C. Network
audio - un: grimes

Who's really in charge of this place?

[ If this ain't a weird way to communicate after so long without even cell phones being a part of daily life. ]

D. Wildcard

[ Feel free to switch styles or hit me with something different! ]

A;;

[amorea_mortuus_sum]

It's not so much another shoe that drops, but rather a person in the seat next to him. Eric slides a chilled glass of beer toward him as a bit of greeting. He almost didn't recognize Rick, and though he doesn't know the man all that well after their first, initial meeting as he was lying prone on a pile of musty couch cushions, he's extending the olive branch.

"It's almost surreal, isn't it?"