Unfinished Library Mod & NPC Account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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unfinishedooc2025-12-20 09:27 am
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedooc2025-12-20 09:27 am
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME #2
Welcome to the Library
Those who are new awake in the stacks.
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and the memories of the last things you were doing are hazy at best. But now you’re here, and all you can see is books in every direction, the bookshelves teetering high enough above you to reach to the sky.
A helpful sign points you in the direction of the main circulation desk, and even if you try to ignore it and go in any other direction, the desk is where you will find yourself. A figure sits behind the desk, not even looking up as they sort through books and other media; they look, to your character, to be the exact picture of what they expect a Librarian to be.
Trying to ask the Librarian a question will get them shushed, but they’ll point down a hallway to the side, leading to a kitchenette and what appears to be a dorm room, where they’ll find they’re not alone in this strange place. But once they’ve looked away, when they look back, the Librarian is gone.
The Lobby
Those who are already familiar with the Library will see the Lobby change for the second time. It’s not paper plate UFOs and metal walls this time. Instead there are cheerful garlands strung about, and a stack of books shaped into a Christmas tree taking pride of place. The Help Desk is closed, the ‘Back in 5’ sign once again a bald-faced lie, but there is a menorah sat behind in the window, conveniently just out of reach of anyone who tries to get it. The candles are lit in a… somewhat sporadic fashion, the correct order but with no rhyme or reason to what ‘night’ is being represented. Either time is strange here, whoever’s in charge of it doesn’t know what day it is either, or they simply don’t care. Or some mix of the three.
Those two particular winter holidays are not the only ones represented either; characters will find a smattering of decorations or festive accessories from a great number of holidays, from their own worlds and beyond. There is what looks like a cabinet with instructions to pick your fortune from one of the many drawers. For some reason, there are a number of what looks like a child’s toy ponies placed on and around the cabinet. There are also some posters declaring in bold, decidedly upsetting typeset: “THE GOD-EMPEROR WISHES YOU A FESTIVE SANGUINALIA!” complete with a picture of a certain Library resident in all his feathered, shining glory. (The poster is not remotely shiny, but there are helpful accent lines to show that he should be shining.) And, for some reason, there is also a giant straw goat in the garden now, surrounded by festive strings of lights. Please do not set it on fire.
The Kitchens
It seems the decorations are not the only thing in the holiday spirit. The kitchens, usually bereft of anything but the most basic foodstuffs, are now full to the brim with a variety of holiday foods. There is always a tureen with hot mulled wine and a try of sweet pastries near by it, there’s ham and latkes in the fridge to be heated up, jelly doughnuts, moon cakes, pies, and an assortment of other delicious things. If your character would expect to find a certain thing within the stash, they do, regardless of how niche it may be. Christmas chili? Of course there’s christmas chili!
Oh, and that mulled wine isn’t the only alcohol around either- champagne, sake, hard cider… again, anything anyone might expect to find. Just try not to overdo it too much, alright? Everyone still has to sleep in the same room, and the Assistants aren’t going to show up to hold your hair back.
Crafts and More
What good are holidays without crafts? The Maker’s Space has been specially supplied with anything you might need to make your festive crafts- this includes everything you’d need for a gingerbread construction! (You’d think this would be in the kitchen, but don’t kid yourself- those things are not for eating.) There’s strips of colorful paper rings and instructions on how to make your own, little things of clay and paint and directions on how to craft your own dreidel, ’stained glass’ paper lanterns, and more. Oh, and glitter. Obviously there is a lot of glitter available.
There are also snow globe kits, mostly generic winter themes- trees, presents, and the like. Strangely enough, however, when they’re complete and shaken, they’ll show a memory from the person who shook it- a memory of a holiday, or snow, or generally something that invokes the feeling of the season- light, and hope, and togetherness. It’s fragmented, almost stop-motion in between the falling bits of ‘snow,’ but once it has settled the normal, basic scene inside returns.
Those who are new awake in the stacks.
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, and the memories of the last things you were doing are hazy at best. But now you’re here, and all you can see is books in every direction, the bookshelves teetering high enough above you to reach to the sky.
A helpful sign points you in the direction of the main circulation desk, and even if you try to ignore it and go in any other direction, the desk is where you will find yourself. A figure sits behind the desk, not even looking up as they sort through books and other media; they look, to your character, to be the exact picture of what they expect a Librarian to be.
Trying to ask the Librarian a question will get them shushed, but they’ll point down a hallway to the side, leading to a kitchenette and what appears to be a dorm room, where they’ll find they’re not alone in this strange place. But once they’ve looked away, when they look back, the Librarian is gone.
The Lobby
Those who are already familiar with the Library will see the Lobby change for the second time. It’s not paper plate UFOs and metal walls this time. Instead there are cheerful garlands strung about, and a stack of books shaped into a Christmas tree taking pride of place. The Help Desk is closed, the ‘Back in 5’ sign once again a bald-faced lie, but there is a menorah sat behind in the window, conveniently just out of reach of anyone who tries to get it. The candles are lit in a… somewhat sporadic fashion, the correct order but with no rhyme or reason to what ‘night’ is being represented. Either time is strange here, whoever’s in charge of it doesn’t know what day it is either, or they simply don’t care. Or some mix of the three.
Those two particular winter holidays are not the only ones represented either; characters will find a smattering of decorations or festive accessories from a great number of holidays, from their own worlds and beyond. There is what looks like a cabinet with instructions to pick your fortune from one of the many drawers. For some reason, there are a number of what looks like a child’s toy ponies placed on and around the cabinet. There are also some posters declaring in bold, decidedly upsetting typeset: “THE GOD-EMPEROR WISHES YOU A FESTIVE SANGUINALIA!” complete with a picture of a certain Library resident in all his feathered, shining glory. (The poster is not remotely shiny, but there are helpful accent lines to show that he should be shining.) And, for some reason, there is also a giant straw goat in the garden now, surrounded by festive strings of lights. Please do not set it on fire.
The Kitchens
It seems the decorations are not the only thing in the holiday spirit. The kitchens, usually bereft of anything but the most basic foodstuffs, are now full to the brim with a variety of holiday foods. There is always a tureen with hot mulled wine and a try of sweet pastries near by it, there’s ham and latkes in the fridge to be heated up, jelly doughnuts, moon cakes, pies, and an assortment of other delicious things. If your character would expect to find a certain thing within the stash, they do, regardless of how niche it may be. Christmas chili? Of course there’s christmas chili!
Oh, and that mulled wine isn’t the only alcohol around either- champagne, sake, hard cider… again, anything anyone might expect to find. Just try not to overdo it too much, alright? Everyone still has to sleep in the same room, and the Assistants aren’t going to show up to hold your hair back.
Crafts and More
What good are holidays without crafts? The Maker’s Space has been specially supplied with anything you might need to make your festive crafts- this includes everything you’d need for a gingerbread construction! (You’d think this would be in the kitchen, but don’t kid yourself- those things are not for eating.) There’s strips of colorful paper rings and instructions on how to make your own, little things of clay and paint and directions on how to craft your own dreidel, ’stained glass’ paper lanterns, and more. Oh, and glitter. Obviously there is a lot of glitter available.
There are also snow globe kits, mostly generic winter themes- trees, presents, and the like. Strangely enough, however, when they’re complete and shaken, they’ll show a memory from the person who shook it- a memory of a holiday, or snow, or generally something that invokes the feeling of the season- light, and hope, and togetherness. It’s fragmented, almost stop-motion in between the falling bits of ‘snow,’ but once it has settled the normal, basic scene inside returns.
MOD QUESTIONS
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ALSO: Is there anything of note visible from the top of the Giant Straw Goat
and does the fence look really, really tall from up there, or is it normal sized(no subject)
Pretend I always posted this with the right account
well fine then!!!
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boldly posting with the wrong account because the right one has no icons
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Jun Ushiro | Bokurano: Ours | New Character
A kid appears in the stacks. A teenager, but very young, and he looks like he's about to fall over. His knees are trembling, his hands are shaking, and his body is covered in sweat. He's in a strange uniform, and next to him is a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and a jacket. They smell faintly of vomit.
All of the points of light, going out one by one. All of those lights, targeted by him in order to save his world.
Anyone would have done the same. ... Right?
He sits down hard, pulling his knees up into his chest. He looks like he's about to cry, if the sniffing and the hiccupping noises are anything to go by.
It's over. It's over and he died but it was worth it and... it's all over. Right?
Lobby
Everything looks... festive. It is winter, but he's unfamiliar with some of these holidays. The strange candelabra gets a weird look, and so do the posters. It doesn't really matter, though - he's not feeling very festive. He's also still got his spare clothes that he's lugging around in a small bag, though they're at least a little damp now that he's found the bathroom and cleaned them up a bit.
He's looking around in a little bit of wonder, though it's dulled by how tired he is. He's very obviously new, given how he's staring at everything... he doesn't even know where to begin with questions at this point.
Kitchen
Jun is aware that eating after not eating for so long is a bad idea, so instead he's just sitting with some water and a small cinnamon roll. He's carefully picking at it, making sure not to go too fast - but if someone else wanders into the kitchen he's probably going to appear to be ignoring them unless they're obviously a nonstandard human. He doesn't much care what most people think - but he is paying attention. Information is everything in this situation, right?
Dorms
He's tossing and turning. Of course he can't sleep after that, as exhausted as he is. His bag is set nearby, but to be honest he's not as worried about them getting stolen as he might normally be - there's not much worth to them, after all.
Eventually he gives up and sits up, looking around to try to see what other people are up to. It's not exactly night... but it's also not not night. Are other people sleeping? Wandering around? He's not sure. ... He reaches over and grabs his glasses out of the bag so he can actually tell.
Wildcard
[ooc; Got another idea? Grab me on Discord (artematthew) or Plurk (
Kitchens
She looks at his sadness meal, then silently offers him a bottle labeled Reed's Ginger Beer.
"Careful, it's actually literally spicy. They don't screw around with the ginger."
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Dorms
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Claire Ryland/Riot Purple | Magica Riot | New, OTA
[Claire Ryland grits her teeth, scanning the Library for threats, because this place is not the back of Vancent Price. These are not her beautiful bandmates, this is not her beautiful girlfriend. And whatever brought her here reeks like magic, and not exactly Harmonic magic either.
At first, Claire is wearing a purple t-shirt with an illustration of a particularly erudite purple pastel winged unicorn with the legend Oh Boy I Sure Do Love Books, under a blue windbreaker and a knee-length burgundy red skirt, with sensible sneakers and tall purple striped stockings; slung over her back is a backpack and a really good, bespoke keytar. Her shoulder-length hair is a brilliant shade of violet that normally requires dye, but hers is purple down to the roots.
Then she reaches her hand skyward, and an amythest-studded microphone materializes out of the ether for her to sing into in perfect contralto C-major key:]
Maidensong... Harmony... Powee~eer! GO LIVE!
[She is enveloped in a purple glow from within that obscures any details from her brief nudity, and then scrolls of sheet music wrap around her, turning into, in turn, a blouse, a pleated skirt, stockings, gloves with steel knuckles, a scarf tied into a cute little bow, shitkicker steel toed goth boots, and the sickest leather jacket ever worn by a riot girl. Then she sweeps her microphone hand back, brushing a stray strand of hair over her ear, and the microphone turns into a headset with an amythest star earpiece, giving her a free hand to wield her keytar as if it were a machine gun.
The entire process takes less than a second; it feels longer for those watching.]
I am a guardian of Song and Heart! Servants of darkness, be silenced by the song of Riot Purple!
Now where are the fu- flaming Pandorites?
2 - The Lobby - I Cry So Loudly, I Slant Devoutly
[Still in her magical girl duds because seriously, what is wrong with this place, Claire - Riot Purple - narrows her eyes and frowns at the Saturnalia well-wishes from the God Emperor Of Mankind. Then, just for a change of pace, she looks over the fortune cabinet and sighs.]
Okay, sure, whatever, murray Crimbo.
[She takes a fortune and reads it, then turns to an onlooker with an 'I don't know what I expected' expression.]
...Well, ask a stupid question. Apparently I should be going south for the winter. Thanks for nothing, fortune.
3 - Kitchens - Brain Implosion Energy, 10,000 Grams Of Pure Caffeine
[Well, at least she's not going to starve here. Claire spots the ham, the latkes, a crockpot of jambalaya... and in the back of the fridge...]
Holy cra-rrristmas, is that - it IS!
[She retrieves her prize - an oyster pail of chicken chow mein, a package of shu mai with a perfect green pea in the center of each one and perfectly pleated har gao, and a four-pack of Reed's Ginger Beer from the fridge, puts all her assorted savories on a plate, and starts to nuke it, humming a tune happily.]
Christmas Day dim sum, I can't believe it. How does this place know? More magic?
4 - Crafts - I Spend My Hours Doing Alchemy, I Mix My Yellows And My Blues To Make A Shade Of Green
[At this point satisfied that the Stacks are not full of Pandora Entities trying to kill her, Claire Ryland is back to civilian form with her cartoon horse shirt and is examining a completed snowglobe. She shakes it, and...
...and inside is a band doing a set in a grungy bar. Claire herself is unmistakable, but the lead singer is a beautiful butch girl with shockingly bright red hair a blue and vividly maned pegasus to match Claire's bookish girl and a leather jacket on acoustic guitar; a black girl with warm brown and yellow dense kinky curls on electric guitar singing the backup, a girl in a tanktop and shorts with a jacket for a belt and goddamn Hatsune Miku blue twintails completely destroying the drumsets, and a tall and slender femme with long o-cha green bangs and ponytail on base, all singing their hearts out and getting screams from the crowd.
Claire wears a bittersweet smile and sings along.]
Oo~oh, what's it like to be you? What is it like to be beautiful, and true~?
1!
He doesn't look like much of a threat, in spite of the horns and claws and definite presence of magic that probably isn't Harmonic, especially with all the snacks and what looks awfully like an oreo clenched in his teeth.
More like a nerd in a heavily embroidered, expensive looking robes and a whole lot of jewelry.]
Uh.
[The oreo is sucked in and crunched quickly.]
I ... I haven't seen anyone yet?
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crowley | good omens | ota
Those wandering the stacks may find a thin figure lurking about, sunglasses and a shock of red hair as he examines books seemingly at random. He doesn't seem upset, or frightened, or angry. He's just vaguely curious, poking around absently.
"It seems someone nabbed the wrong occult being," he murmurs to himself, his accent British.
The kitchen;
Crowley has had a scowl on his face, pretty much since arrival. One that only deepened when he saw the decor. Clearly, he is not in a very festive mood. The expression only lightens when he discovers the alcohol stash in the kitchen.
"This sake isn't bad," he offers to whomever is brave enough to sit down near him. "Though the Shoryakuji fellows in 1400 did it better. Those monks knew how to party."
Craft room;
Arts and crafts? Really? Crowley sneers at it, obviously way too cool to get down with scissors and construction paper. A snow globe kit catches his eye, however - the scene looks a little Dickensian and he snaps his fingers, between one instant and the next the snow globe has assembled itself.
He gives it a quick experimental shake, and for a moment, an image appears in it, of two men (or man-shaped beings), dressed in Victorian garb. One is clearly Crowley, tall and thin and dressed in black, that red hair unmistakeable. The one walking next to him is a bit stouter, dressed in warm, buttery cream, with curly blond hair peeking out from under his top hat. The cherubic one is gesticulating dramatically, while Crowley saunters along next to him, a faint smile on his lips.
The image vanishes as Crowley drops the snow globe with a sound in his throat that's almost a growl.
Wildcard;
Got another idea? Maybe you stumble on Crowley giving a lecture to some of the plants in the garden, or trying to burn the goat? Hit me up at
the kitchens
Her own drink is labeled Ginger Beer but is probably not alcoholic. Her plate has takeout Chinese.
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The Stacks
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The Kitchens
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Eliza Owens | Pokemon OC + CRAU | New Character
Eliza blinks awake, frowning as she looks around at the stacks. This definitely isn't where she set up her tent last night. Also, her tent is no longer here. She stands up and starts wandering, her hand going to her belt-and then flinching away when she realizes there's only one Pokeball on it. She immediately throws it out, a three-headed creature emerging from the library floor in a flash of light.
"Dragon? Do you know what happened?"
All three heads shake.
"I guess we should explore..."
Slowly, the duo start off on their exploration, Eliza turning her head from side to side as she tries to get a view of the entire place, Dragon quietly following behind and watching her back.
2. She Still Doesn't Know Who Jesus Is
Eliza is definitely distracted by all the holiday accoutrements when she reaches the Lobby, and she's actually drawn to the fortune cabinets first. She reaches out to pick one, her expression brightening upon seeing the red stick.
"Oh, a lucky draw! Wait...does it count if it's not the New Year?"
3. She Should Not Be Allowed Around This Much Glitter
Eliza can be found flitting around the Maker's Space with excitement in her eyes, grabbing everything she can just to try it out. She even tries taking a bite out of a gingerbread house piece, and when her teeth can't penetrate, they seem to shift slightly, sharpening as her eyes glow yellow.
...she still can't bite through it.
Still, despite everything being mostly hectic, she eventually settles down with a snowglobe, glue and glitter on her hands, shaking it and gazing deep, looking at the image of a younger teenage version of herself sneaking through the snow in a small village, slipping sheets of paper into mailboxes.
[OOC: Info/permissions for this CRAU version of Eliza can be found here. Ignore the game name, there's no Laby-specific info there.]
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"Huh.. I guess so?" A simple reply as he kneels down and looks at her stick. "I'm not certain of what I'm looking at, though...?2
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Kel (CRAU)| OMORI | New Character - Current Player
"No. No no no no no-"
It's not Kel's first rodeo in being kidnapped into another world but, unlike last time... he's now into enemy territory. A library. The books menacingly stare at the teen, no pictures or comics in sight, and his friends are nowhere to be seen. The only familiar company is Marigold, a cat he got in his previous otherworld prison and that he gifted to one of his friends.
"Okay, big girl-" he comments, picking up the tabby cat between his arms and ignoring the way she hisses at him. Neither of them is happy with the current situation, apparently. "This must be one of those weird things that happen every other month, we just need to find a way out."
The (relatively buff) teen, wrapped in orange clothes and with bandages to protect his arms and hands, can be found wandering and climbing around, trying to find any way to get out of there.
The Kitchens
Food is comfortable, at least. Kel is not taking well being taken away from all his friends, quite the contrary, but there's a bit of hope they'll get there eventually? The library so far seems like a more peaceful place than the dream city where he was before, perhaps they could all live there without incidents until they can find a way home... if his friends get there.
No amount of training to protect them can help him deal with the whole 'being brought to another world' thing. He trained, he got some basic water powers too, but... he's alone now.
"It's you and me now, big girl..." He and Marigold, the tabby cat that came in with him, can be found in the kitchen, eating random foods and trying them. He's not touching the alcohol and not just because he's just 17, his family let him try the stuff when they visited their country of origin and Kel didn't like feeling all numb so... it's ignored.
He will easily be the one approaching whoever steps nearby, possibly asking if they're 'new' or ask if they know what a cat should and shouldn't eat because Marigold is scarfing down a piece of roast and is it even safe? His friend was the smart one when it came to cats, he knows dogs much better.
Crafts and More
He's been working on stuff to distract himself. A blanket has been stolen from the dormitories and he's pretty much using it as cape over his barely covering orange tank top, his (It's his now right?) cat is resting on a pillow nearby and he's been trying to recreate a pinwheel for a while.
Aubrey loved those and one of the last things he remembers was having a 'talk' with her, about their current problems, so he's doing what he can to keep his friends nearby. There are so many unfamiliar faces all around once more and he will be friendly but...
But for now he's crafting a pink pinwheel and he may make a few more for his friends. He still doesn't know objects aren't permanent so he's in for a world of disappointment.
Wildcard:
Hit me on discord over _erichthonios_ or through dms if you want anything specific. he's from a game when it still was horror oriented so, yeah, he's a bit on guard mode and worried about his friends but he's actually a VERY friendly guy.
Welcome!
"Hey, kid, get behind me," she says.
Riot Purple is dressed head to toe in that color, with a studded biker-ass leather jacket, studs on the knuckles on her leather gloves, and tall gothic boots with steel toes. She wields a keytar on a strap over her shoulder as if it's a machine gun. Somehow, it looks confident rather than ridiculous.
"Riot Purple," she says. "Punk rocker and monster-slaying magical girl."
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Crafts
"Rio Fontaine" | World of Warcraft OC | New character, old player; OTA
Know where Rio expects to be? NOT HERE.
But at least it's the best time of year to be here. He looks human.. ish, but absolutely isn't given the horns, occasional smattering of scales and fangs and all, dressed in robes befitting some upper-crust noble given the blue silk and delicate gold embroidery and amount of jewelry he's wearing. Even his glasses have a certain elegant design to the gold wire rims that suggest either friends with a skilled craftsman or significant wealth. Or, well, magic.
Surely not that last one.
"I didn't know it was Winter Veil!" And he sounds reasonably friendly, voice a pleasant tenor, as he sets his hands on his hips and looks around with interest at the garlands and Christmas tree book stack and candles and other festive goodness. "In fact I could have sworn Midsummer Fire Festival was right around the corner."
.... "Oh well, winter's better anyway."
Kitchens
Whatever the dragon's opinions on the lobby and its decorations, the kitchens have everything. Eggnog, check! Dragonbreath chili, check! Fried chicken, that one's new but he's willing to give it a pass, that sounds like something dwarves would like.
And he's adding what looks and smells awfully like delicious, hot cinnamon buns to the offerings. That these are conjured, pure creations of magic and willpower, doesn't mean they'll be any less delicious, and what's the point of having Conjure Food as a mastered spell if he doesn't use it at every opportunity?
Mana tea's already been put with the drinks. It tastes like ordinary slightly sweetened green tea, but is definitely far more energizing, especially for anyone who uses magic. Surely that's fine to just leave with the rest.
And then Rio acquires a plate, and begins putting one of everything he can find on it with singleminded focus.
Crafts!
He knows he should be getting back to the Azure Archives. But surely it can wait ... just a little longer. It's Winter Veil after all, and all this stuff is here to have fun with.
So Rio's set himself to working on making a few things of his own to add to the decorations outside, starting with construction paper rings.
It's taking longer, thanks to the pen and ink he's fished out of one of the pouches at his waist, inscribing each paper loop with purely artistic flourishes that leave glowing blue and white trails across them, appropriately frosty looking for the season. It's a very low level enchantment at best, nothing any scribe couldn't manage with a decent amount of snowfall ink, but it's also taking up all his focus. He might not notice anyone suddenly turning up to join in.
Kitchens
"A potion of Breath?" he says, blinking. "I didn't know you could brew that into tea."
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Hikaru Aozora || Wonders of Mundus (novels) || Beta Tester || Kitchens, OTA
Latkes with applesauce. A couple of fresh-fried mincemeat lumpia. Some ham. Not just fried chicken but specifically Kentucky Fried Chicken, with coleslaw and fresh corn. A slice of sponge cake with whipped cream and strawberries, and an array of cookies - gingersnaps, chocolate pinwheels, snickerdoodles, and chocolate flavored ones that cracked down the middle during baking.
And, of course, some mulled soft apple cider and a cup of very strong, very sweet black coffee.
It is unclear where the 4'2" man is going to put it all, but he's smiling, and raises his glass.
"Warm Yulehearth, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, I don't know the appropriate blessing for Saturnalia, and are there any others I've missed?" he asks.
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The woman it's attached to is... A fairly typical Japanese woman. 148cm. Black hair. Brown eyes. Unremarkable at first glance, though she's given to long sleeves and bright colors.
As she sits opposite Hikaru, a hint of rattling chains that's surely just that kitchen knife in the sink follows her. "Though, when I left, I could have sworn it was only April."
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Link | The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
This is not the first time Link has woken up with no idea where he is, or what is going on.
He does remember who he is this time though. Mostly. (Some things - many things - have yet to come back.) Which makes this experience a little different to the last.
Checking the Sheikah Slate doesn't help; the map shows Hyrule, but has no indication of where Link is. The strange Ancient Sheikah Monk like person at the desk is similarly unhelpful.
Well. It's not like Link hasn't had to figure things out himself before.
So he climbs the stacks, and starts trying to scout a better view of where he is.
ii. climbing straw goat and slamming into fences
Naturally, Link climbs the giant goat.
He does not question why there is a giant goat. It's not the weirdest thing he's seen. But it's there, so he's gonna climb it. For a while, he just hangs out up there. It's a good vantage point. And then he wonders: what's on the other side of that fence?
It's easy enough to leap off, and start paragliding over there.
At least, it was, right up until the fence suddenly shoots up in Link's face, and he slams into it.
iii. food glorious food
Anyone entering into the kitchens while Link is there is going to be immediately confronted with the sight of a short, pointy-eared young man absolutely stuffing his face.
Pastries? Shoved in his face. Pies? Shoved in his face. Red and white candies? Also shoved in his face.
(At one point, Link pauses to shove his open the weirdly cold box and shove his head inside. Huh. Interesting. Was this part of a puzzle?)
Not even Link can eat absolutely everything on offer, however. But there's still so many delicious foods he wants to try.
So he starts picking things up and putting them into the pack that hangs from his waist. Not all of it - just a sample of each. But more than what should physically be able to fit into a pack that size.
food? food.
His bag full of magical items was gone, his cash was also gone and no familiar face had been seen for a good moment but, hey- at least there was food, right? As he reched for something he could easily sneak under his rabbit shaped hood, the purple clad not-hero of Lorule heard familiar gulps and gasps and crunches and grunts of someone very close to his heart (and his wallet). It was... weird to turn around and see Link (a bit older, pehaps?) right there, but it gave him a lot of weird feelings-
He made peace with saying goodbyes back then, mind you, he even made peace with the fact he wouldn't get to have free soup in Link's house again, but... if the Hero as there? Then there was danger. Ravio was glad to see him again, sure, but he also couldn't help the bunch of unpleasant feelings of fear that were now clumping in his stomach.
"H-hey, mister hero!" He still offered a big grin, goofily grabbing a chair and pushing it right next to the other. With the familiarity ofsomeone who spent night and nights snoring on the other's bed and ate all his food while he was away... Ravio rested his elbows on the table and pushed the hood back just enough for Link (and only Link) to see... himself. Just with dark hair and a different eye color. The merchand did lower his voice, then. "sooo... in what kind of mess are we this time, huh?"
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Verso | CO:E33 (AU)| OTA
This was not how Verso expected to be spending his day. He'd expected to go downstairs from his little flat to Angelique's, have a nice tartine and café au lait, read the morning paper, and just watch the morning bustle before heading out on his own errands. Visit his family for the evening meal perhaps. He did miss them, and it would surely delight Alicia to see him...
But it seemed that his day had been quite upended here. Anyone in the Stacks, or by the Lobby might spot the new arrival, dressed in a neat Edwardian-style suit, something curious in his gaze as it turned this way and that, taking in the strange Library and the books on the shelves. A gloved hand reached up, tracing the spines of a few tomes lightly before he slid one from the shelf to flip open, brows lifting as he discovered that it was missing all of the vowels. Paging through, he let out a disbelieving, bewildered little laugh, along with a shake of his head.
"Are they all like this then?" Gingerly closing the book in his hands, he didn't yet reshelve it, pale eyes turning up towards the rows of other books consideringly. "A strange sort of library if so..."
II. To the kitchen
It hadn't been Christmas in Lumière. Spring had been in full bloom in fact. But this was apparently some impossible magic library so... why shouldn't it be the holidays?
Still bemused by the strange Librarian, and the fact that when he looked back, the stern man was gone? Verso let his wanderings take him in the direction that had been indicated. Admiring the decorations, some familiar, some unfamiliar (What in all the Colours was Sanguinalia?) brought up short when he wandered into the kitchen just by the sheer strange variety. It was... a little overwhelming, to be fair.
Lumière was a fairly cosmopolitan city, with a fair variety of foods and treats, and yet... Verso had never seen some of what was on offer. He was however relieved to see the familiar shape of wine bottles amongst the offerings, tugging his gloves off for the moment to tuck away, so he could pour himself a glass. A little surprised to find a Lafite amongst what was available, but it was a familiar thing that would do wonders towards steadying himself.
If he senses someone close enough, he'll turn a polite smile towards them, tilting his head lightly towards the bottle in his hand still. "Would you care for a glass as well?"
III. Make something of yourself
After exploring, the Maker's Space seems a decent place to stop a moment. To have something to do with his hands while he mulls over what he's seen and heard, consider the implications. His gloves are laid to one side, and he's slipped a pair of gold half-rimmed glasses on to better see the details as he's putting together one of the snow globe kits. Steady hands meant a steady mind after all. The little winter forest vignette was charming, and once everything was screwed together, Verso couldn't help but give the globe a light shake to send the sparkling snow swirling.
Around a scene that was decidedly not the winter wonderland the kit had come with- a young boy with dark hair and pale blue-grey eyes sitting at a black and gold-trimmed grand piano, just small enough that he had to stretch his legs and feet to reach the pedals as he was carefully copying the notes shown to him by the woman sitting beside him at the bench. An older man seated in an armchair nearby, a book in hand, with a sleeping infant swaddled in white set against his chest, while another young girl with long brown hair was sprawled across the floor drawing in a sketchbook with a fierce sort of concentration, black-booted feet idly kicking against the rug while a black and white hound lay fast asleep at her side. It was a domestic sort of scene, and Verso couldn't help the faint wistfulness in the smile that the sight drew up.
IV. Wildcard
This is Kiwi! If you want something else with this poor dumb lad let me know! You can either drop a starter here, or hit me up either at
II
Instead he goes and grabs a glass of water and a cup of soba noodles, pouring the former into the latter and setting it into the microwave, hitting the button to make it start. He pours himself another glass of water and looks at Verso.
"... So what year are you supposed to be from?" No one dresses like that anymore.
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G. I. Robot | Creature Commandos (CW: for talk about WWII and associated violence)
He has a more...precise memory than most. But the thing about being detonated by magic is that the last bits get a little...shaky. But he'd been fighting Nazis, with his friend Miss Nina. Something he had been waiting a very long time to do again. To fulfill his purpose. His programming.
That it meant he was with friends again, doing good, was of course something he didn't think about at all. Or, rather, that he thought about all the time but didn't comprehend. Those were emotions, which he was not programmed to have, of course. Wanting anything beyond sending Nazis back to hell where they belonged was not in his programming.
And yet he stood there, a shockingly lanky looking gold robot, in a faded WWII-era uniform, looking around with a tilted head, the helmet on his head clanking a little bit as he did so. He certainly made a striking, or at least unusual, sight.
But he was considering where he was, and coming to terms with its impossibility. It couldn't be an enemy trick, he remembered exploding. Remembered seeing Miss Nina in those last moments.
Thus, he had ceased to function. Dead, to use the human terms. And yet, here he was. In a library. It was impossible, on many levels. And yet, it was.
Idly, he reached out a thin finger, pushing a book back on a shelf.
"Hmm."
The Lobby
He does sit at the help desk for some time. When he is still, it is an almost unearthly stillness. After five minutes, he does turn his head to watch the desk. After five hours, he does get up, briefly, to peer inside. Then he sits back down again.
"Huh. Perhaps they mean five days..." Which he will wait, if necessary. Someone should explain this one to him.
Another time, you'll find him staring at the Sanguinalia sign. His eyes narrow, and his voice is suspicious when he speaks: "That seems like something a Nazi would say..." Which, of course, implies shooting them full of good old-fashioned American bullets at the earliest opportunity. It's the God-Emperor part that sets him down a predictable logic path there.
He also pats the goat on the head, in passing. Just in case that's something you should do.
The Kitchens
He doesn't eat. Or drink. Though he did quaff a few beers with his boys back in the war, to fit in. But he does run on good old fashioned American gasoline.
And so in the middle of festivities, you'll see a golden robot - with a small can of gasoline in his hands. And a straw. He waves.
Crafts and More
Now this he can be talked into. Or just will take part in out of his natural curiosity. He's particularly drawn to the clay. When you approach, he's made what's clearly Santa's sleigh, though Santa is looking a bit more like Betty Grable in a Santa hat, because he's from a very different era.
There's also a run over Nazi soldier under the sleigh, because this is a robot with priorities. He reaches over for a can of red glitter, and turns it over. And then shakes vigorously with machine speed, coating the entire thing with enough red glitter to equip a regiments' worth of USO signs.
But when he completes the snow globe...he'll sit in a corner, just turning it over and back upright, over and over again, seemingly without getting bored. If you approach, you'll see scenes of...soldiers. American soldiers, around G.I. Robot, scenes of camaraderie and celebration. He's remembering another Christmas, a very cold one from what - for him - is now long ago.
CYA?
(OOC: Always willing to do something different. This is of course
The Lobby
The bot that watches the desk for five outs is, technically, not something its meant to be looking for. But it's also kinda fucking notable.
Two hours, forty-six minutes, and seventeen seconds into the bot's wait, he receives a greeting ping.
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THE LOBBY
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Sumire Yoshizawa | Persona 5 Royal (AU) | New Player
Sumire startles awake against a bookshelf, not sure when she would have dozed off - in class, maybe, since she's still in her uniform? Whatever the case may be, at least she hadn't taken off her glasses.
This is also really not class. Nor is it Shujin's library; it's much bigger.
She just sits where she woke up for a few minutes, hands fiddling with the hem of her skirt like she'd tear it into its individual threads if she could just find purchase on the seam. Eventually, when she can push down her initial instinct to panic long enough to think, she gets up to see what answers she can find.
(And if the Librarian looks, for a second, like an orangutan, she's going to blame Atsuko-senpai and those books she talks about for that.)
Lobby
"...Christmas? What happened to Halloween?"
Sumire's confusion about the holiday decor doesn't stop her from looking around with interest. Other than the omikuji cabinet (which she doesn't draw from; she tends to have terrible luck with those things) and the Christmas tree itself, she's largely unfamiliar with the traditions being invoked here.
Especially the... goat??? That one she's just going to stare at, completely baffled.
Kitchen
On the other hand, Sumire's eyes light up when she finds the kitchen. Now this is where she's in her element.
She takes a moment to pull her hair into a braid, tying it off with Kasumi's old ribbon (thank the gods she at least had that in her pocket), before properly diving in. A lot of this food seems to be already prepared, but if there's any way to go about making something, she's going to do that. It'll help settle her nerves. Maybe.
Probably not, but short of one of her friends popping up, it'll stand the best chance.
Crafts
A pretty winter scene with some trees seems like a nice thing to have in a snow globe - and so Sumire almost drops it when she finishes and gives it a good shake, and it plays out a scene that is definitely not that.
Sumire herself is at the center of the snow globe's little scene - at least, presumably that's her; the black and silver mask over her face makes it a bit difficult to tell. She's not dressed for the professional-grade kitchen she's standing in - the leotard and bolero jacket would be better suited to one of her competitions, if not the thigh-high boots so much - but her hair is pinned up in a bun, tiny flashes of emerald on the pins occasionally catching the light, and none of the ten or so other people in the kitchen with her are dressed for a kitchen either. She's directing them through the preparation of a veritable feast's worth of food anyway.
Sumire lets out a shaky breath as the scene finishes and she sets the globe down. Why that, she has to wonder. It hasn't even been a full month since the conclusion of her Palace, yet.
(Info about Sumi's AU circumstances is available on her journal! Her canon point may be slightly later than that says, but not by much.)
Kitchen
He's also stuffing a moon cake into his mouth. But he gives her a little wave, when she comes in. Hi!
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Audrey | Look Outside | New Player
[Faced with a new place and none of her companions, Audrey doesn't know what's dangerous here, but she knows what she looks like and doesn't want trouble, or to scare anyone. She moves around in her monster form when she doesn't think anyone will see, but at any sound or motion - and she does have very keen eyesight, it comes with having this many gigantic eyes - she turtles up and within a second or two almost completely resembles a vending machine. A model old enough that not only is there no option for a credit card but no option for bills, and the various drinks with their unrecognizable brands on their illuminated push buttons are a dollar each. One of the six options is just "Advice".
If you examine her closely, you can tell there's something up. Her coin receptacle gapes and shrinks with slow, regular breaths; she's faintly warm; the scratched and battered red 'paint' has a texture and give not unlike leather, there are huge, retracted fangs inside of her delivery slot, there's an odd watchful quality to her selection buttons and the raised blue bubble pattern. More exotic senses will make it much more obvious: this is a living creature within and wrapped around the shell of a vending machine.
She may, if you don't say or do anything first, drop an empty silvery can down into her delivery slot and endeavor to bounce it out onto the floor. Written on it in what looks like black marker:]
Hello, I'm Audrey! The machine, not the can. Something tells me we're not in Montreal... ^_^;
lobby
[She's parked here in vending machine form, facing some form of decor. This Advice can is already sitting out, upright, where it can be picked up.]
That's weird. It was October when the Visitor arrived. I guess it's more time stuff? If it can get dilated it can get contracted?
Welcome - Not bringing him but I gotta.
Sam could have sworn this was the third floor, and his apartment.
Instead, another damn distortion has elongated this place into a strangely sterile, infinite library full of incomplete - possibly half remembered? - Manuscripts.
He’s tired, he’s hungry, he needs a shower. And boy howdy is he so not looking forward to fighting or talking down some poor librarian merged into a body horror card catalogue, or whatever. But this may as well happen so he has his pistol in one hand and a cleaver in the other. Just in case.
And then he spies a friend.
He feels strangely great about that.]
Looney for your thoughts, eh, Audrey? I could have sworn this was the way back to my apartment this morning.
thank you! also great to see a sam regardless lol
I haven't played since before the drop with Audrey lol but I've seen videos on the Tubes
she's so cute!
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Welcome
thanks!
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Torioi Mei | My Best Friend Is A Total Flake Who Thinks I'm In Love With Him | New, OTA
The last thing Mei remembers is being in the the University's stacks, and getting lost. She was chasing... Something. A shadow. Something of red jade eyes and chains and carmine lips and a claim that she's always known her.
She awakens, and rubs her throat, and feels and hears chains she cannot see. A brief look in black glass proves she's just as she remembers: 148cm. Black hair. Brown eyes. Unremarkable, save for the red ribbon tied into her hair, which still contains the lockpicks. Good. Her UNIKOKORO shirt is proudly displayed. Well. As much as cheap department store clothing can be proudly displayed. For exploration, it would do.
They are ponderous, but apparently she is used to moving with them, for she does not hesitate in the slightest before slowly moving to the circulation desk.
Of course the Librarian looks familiar to Mei. She was just speaking with a librarian. But this is not the Suita circulation desk, and Iwai Kanna was manning the reference desk. Sho was manning the circulation desk. A closer inspection reveals that there's too many little differences, but the resemblance is, as they say, uncanny. "... You have--"
"Sh!" The Librarian points to the kitchenette and dorms.
Mei looks, and looks back, and the Librarian is gone. "... It seems my trip in whatever strange place I had found myself in isn't over, yet..."
B: The Kitchens
Despite everything, it seems that Mei is digging into the fridge. As long as she's here, she might as well make the most of it. A knife and several other implements of war and/or cookery line the counter. There's even the dried fish for dashi, somehow, though this is more of a staple than anything else.
The eerie sound of chains gently follows her, as she boils the water to make a dashi, as she gently cuts up fried chicken into cutlets, as she slowly makes of leftovers and Christmas reservations a meal fit for something approximating a rich man, complete with satsuma oranges.
She's like to be in there an hour or so, so anyone who wants to talk or help while she works over a small gas stove and a hot plate back burner is welcome to.
Anyone who helps her clean up will be taken as a godssend.
C: Crafts
It's... Been a while since she's seen a crafts table like this. It's been ages since she was invited to use one.
It's with a strange air that this woman sits down, and begins to form clay with her hands. The fingerprints are barely visible as she works, smoothing things out, carefully trimming the edges. She's probably completely missed the assignment in favor of making this stone bowl.
"What are you making?" she'll ask, if you sit down next to her.
Crafts
"My brother," he says, still folding a sheet of paper, "has attempted to make a joke. As usual, his joke was extraordinarily unfunny." Implied: HE MUST PAY and whatever glitter origami thing Sanguinius is working on is the price.
"And you?" Right. Be pleasant. Not everything is about your personal life, Sanguinius.
Re: Crafts
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Kitchens
Re: Kitchens
A: Arrival
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Hisako Godsup | Tortall OC | New Player
sustenance i: anywhere open
[Stormwings don't have to eat or drink, but they gain a lot of strength from the fear, anger, and general suffering of mortals. In the Divine Realms mortals are hard to come by. It's a form of feeding, even if they're not consuming or changing those feelings.
so if you're someone who can die of deprivation, age, or disease and especially is having some level of a bad time there is a Stormwing on a balcony above, watching intently with an odd, conflicted look on her face. if you can't she can tell, and scrutinizes you closely, trying to work out how to place you in a framework she knows. Generally Immortals such as herself are on par with strong mortals in most regards, and lesser gods aren't far above that, but dragons and greater gods... regardless, once she's noticed she smiles broadly, flashing steel teeth.]
Good morning, pigeon! Or whatever time it is, or whatever bird you are. All exiled to a foreign realm, are we?
sustenance ii: kitchen
Eurgh.
[Being on the ground makes Hisako feel vulnerable and like she might cut someone. She's clumsy and slow on foot, while still being bulky and having, well, steel feathers like very sharp knives. It's necessary if she's going to eat a mooncake though, which levitates as if held by an invisible hand. Seems this one doesn't pass muster.]
So that's what it means to eat the shadow of something! Somehow, I'd forgot. Ahh, pigeon, you don't know what you're missing.
climbing: garden
[Hisako has found the Garden on a chilly day with a bright, merciless sun. See her up there, a flashing silvery shape circling higher and higher. Even when she's flown so high as to be out of sight of human eyes, that fence just keeps getting taller, to a beyond ludicrous extent. You can tell she's started her descent by it finally getting shorter again, becoming merely skyscraper-tall, then less and less, at a much faster rate than when it had grown. That's because Hisako is diving, not at you, but not that far off.
She flares out her wings and tail when maybe thirty feet up - little ice particles are knocked free and speckles down, possibly on you - to kill her momentum and swerve into the fence so she can grasp it with her feet and be semi-upright and out of reach. She calls down in a singsong.]
Bad news, pigeon! Pretty sure that goes as far as anyone can fly, not just little old me.
[There's frost on her feathers where condensation chilled. Hisako, without a further pause, starts preening it out, which from her means twisting her long neck around and licking and biting at it. While attached, those flashing steel feathers are as flexible as keratin ones.]
seriously, don't: anywhere open
[Something that might initially look like an arrow falls out of the air and sticks like a dart into the floor or a table under ten feet away. It's a steel feather, the shaft stripped bare, a decorative last few inches still razor sharp. Hisako, her long hair loose, calls down from above, sounding... genuinely alarmed, actually.]
Don't touch that!
Obviously seriously, don't
"Is it poisoned?"
That's a reasonable question.
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Sustenance 1
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Garden
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sustenance ii | oh hello fellow bird-flavored reminder that War Is Awful!
yay! I love Stormwings but I didn't want to play Ozorne or Rikash and so...
I love her already; she's such a delight
aww thanks!
Konrad Curze - warhammer 30k, current player/character
Still clad in nothing more than tattered dark pants and the blackfeather cape he preferred, Konrad Curze is not feeling particularly festive and is not dressing the part either. What he is doing, is patiently and repeatedly defacing one particular set of posters.
Calling the Emperor a God is illegal, overinflation of Sanguinius' status aside, and that just can't be allowed.
It had started with carefully redacting the 'god' part with a black sharpie swiped from the craft room in neat black rectangles. The rest was.. reasonably tolerable.
Except as soon as anyone stops looking at them, they revert to the way they were before.
He's escalated since. So far nothing sticks for long. Not markers, not paint, not pulling one off the wall, not taping up something to cover it, nothing. Which has left the primarch sitting on the edge of the circulation desk, frowning at the offending, heretical posters as if they have personally caused him vast insult.
"...Perhaps fire."
Kitchens
Being thoroughly defeated by a poster, Curze has at some point sullenly retreated to find himself a nice nutrient block to work on, and discovered there's ... a lot of things that aren't nutrient blocks instead.
He knows, in a vague sense, what most of this is, and that mostly through association or inherent knowledge. None of it particularly appeals until he finds an actual fruitcake and retreats with it to a table to begin picking it apart bit by bit and fishing out the tiny fragments of fruit in amongst the solidified chunk of solid who-knew-what.
There are weirder things in this library than a ten foot tall wraith of a man patiently dissect a fruitcake, but at least he's ... probably not bothering anyone.
Kitchens somebody come git herrrrrr
"Do I want to know what that cake did to you?"
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Missing my USRDA of Night Lord: lobby
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Heheheheheheh (Lobby)
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Kitchens
SCREEM
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Cipher Nine | Star Wars: the Old Republic (technically AU)
[Like Ziost hadn't been bad enough. Sleep had already become a finite resource in the wake of the total obliteration of a world and now sleep itself had managed to ensnare him in some absolute fucking bullshit. Was nothing safe? Sacred?
Apparently not and Nine is a fool for believing that such concepts even exist.
Being bitten right in the eyes by festivity both known and unknown as he walks in the direction the... Imperial? Sith? Librarian... had pointed him in doesn't help with Nine's tanking mood and his brow twitches with significant annoyance only soothed by the trilling beeps at his feet as his mouse droid nudges against his ankle.] I suppose it's you and me against the world, Poptart.
[If there's any rhyme or reason as to why one of his droid companions is with him but not the other, he doesn't know. He doubts he'll get an answer. Would be nice to have the both of them with him given that Caf is more capable of getting a better view of the surroundings than Poptart who is confined to driving around on the ground, but he supposes he's lucky to have even one of them with him.
Poptart being a mouse droid running surveillance programming has always served him well before and having just one additional pair of eyes is calming.
His red eyes flick around the decorations on display— is that a fucking Copero-style paper lantern?— and he outright sneers at the sight of the posters. Had it not been for the appearance of the person on them he'd think it Imperial propaganda.] Like the existence of one God-Emperor isn't bad enough.
[His voice is cool and clipped and full of... Derision? Hatred? It's hard to tell. Either way that look on his face sure could freeze hell itself over.]
The Kitchen...
[When it comes to feasts Nine prefers cooking for himself. Just like there had been a familiar lantern among the decorations in the lobby, here too there are familiar foods. That Coperan strew and Csillan tart look especially tempting to him given that he hasn't been able to partake in food from the Ascendancy since he left it as a teenager.
So he can be found staring both options down.
Unfortunately his expression has a tendency to have a cold bent to it so someone looking at him may mistake it as him being insulted. Like the food on offer has implied dishonor on his home, family, and miscellaneous pets and/or working animals.
...
Eventually he does partake in the booze on offer. Downing one glass of champagne with a speed usually reserved for something more like beer and immediately pouring himself another.
If he's going to go through something that is either some sort of really long-lasting hallucination caused by his double-brainwashing cognitive damage or some Force-related bullshit phenomena (more likely), at least he should be allowed to not do it sober.
Should anyone's gaze linger on him for a bit longer than a moment he arches an eyebrow at them, though his expression doesn't change much besides that.] What?
Crafts...
[By now Nine has accepted that this is lasting a little too long to be a dream or hallucination and has firmly categorized it as some sort of Force-related mishap to which the question that has been repeating in his mind is why him.
There has to be a million Sith Lords or Jedi or unrelated Force users it could happen to. So why him who is— blessedly— about as attuned to the ways of the Force as a common brick. Not enough that the Empire likes to yank him around by his chain, but now the mystical energy that apparently ties all things together too?
It's unfair is what it is.
He's a cog. A sanitation worker. A member of what amounts to the Imperial Maid service. Nine is supposed to be the person who's there with a mop and bucket after the Sith are done with the burning and pillaging part of warfare.
Not the one on the scene ahead of everyone else.
And what a strange scene it is too, he thinks, as he sits slapping together a paper lantern. His datapad is next to him on the table he's sat at, open to Poptart's camera feed as the mouse droid is out exploring the surroundings.
Cheerful beeps can be heard from the datapad on occasion along with little bubbles of text popping up on screen alongside the beeps as the droid catalogues what it's seeing.
Nine can multitask, okay. And Poptart has a way less tedious time moving around than he does and can actually record what it's seeing.]
(ooc: Let's see if Nine is a better fit than Nox aka this is DiscordCryptid (
The AU part here is mostly that I play him as being gender apathetic / agender which doesn't make a massive difference for his overall story other than him mostly just going "aight, bet" at however people around him chooses to categorize him. He defaults to he/him but won't correct anyone on whatever they assign him, basically. SWTOR itself is limited to a male or female player character which is why he's teeechnically AU even if very little changes story-wise.
Feel free to throw me a wildcard too as Nine would want to get a lay of the land so he'd be poking around everywhere once he's done moping. And possibly pondering setting fire to that goat...)
In the stacks - have some gender
She would have wanted someone to for her, after all.
So, there she is, Gone Live, keytar at her side just in case, in the purple leathers, the purple skirt, the purple gloves with brass knuckles, the purple socks, and knee high goth shitkicker boots in guess what color. The purple in her hair reaches the roots.
She spots the newcomer, and their droid, pauses, then waves.]
Welcome to the Stacks. You're a long way from home; I'm the self-appointed welcoming committee.
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arrival good to see you back! :D
we'll see if Nine is a better fit even though he is significantly meaner than Nox lol
Have you MET Sanguinius's brother lol
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Wreck | To Be Hero X | Current Character
Bad luck follows, always
Alcohol goes with everything!
Gingerbread Jenga & Snow Globes
Catchall
Gingerbread Jenga & Snow Globes
When he felt he was done and Wreck still seemed incredibly distracted (and a little disappointed???) with his work, Nice quietly crept over and draped the long chains over Wreck's shoulders. ]
Giving off a haunted office building vibe than a cozy vibe it seems~
[ he meant the snow globe. ]
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Fortune
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Roachy | OC | New Player
If there's craft supplies, and a poster that clearly needs glitter, Roachy is going to do his best. Maybe Ol' Sanguinalia Nick just didn't have access to a glitter pen? Maybe he was a fool and thought that adding a little festive sparkle would lower the tone? Either way, Roachy is here with his liberated crafting supplies to improve the art.
He's not a great artist, by any means, but he can outline and add in some fat, golden cherubs on post-it notes around the main poster.
Craft Room
In between liberating some supplies to go fix of up the poster he saw, Roachy takes a peek at the snow globes. Huh. It's an odd little thing and when he shakes it, there's a fluttering picture of four young people in a tin-roofed cinderblock building laughing and clearly about to tussle over a card game. Two of the four are injured, but bandaged up, and the other two are dramatically gesturing, clearly 'threatening' them for cheating.
The angle shifts to show Roachy sitting on the ground in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and laughing.
OOC
Want something else? Have OOC questions? hmu here or on plurk.
ohai Lobby
"If you could put some over the face, that would be helpful." Because it's weird seeing one's own face staring back at one from almost every wall, for some alleged holiday he had definitely done nothing to earn.
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Unfortunately cherubs aren't a thing till like 2 millennia after Sang croaks lol
Alas!
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Roboute Guilliman | Warhammer 40k | New Player
There's one of those unreasonably tall fellows, staring at the Sanguinalia poster. He looks like he just woke up from one of those awful naps that just makes you more tired, and he's clutching a primarch-sized mug of recaff like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity.
Practical. He has been spirited away to an unknown location. (Information required - where? By what means?) Theoretical. There are followers of the Imperial Creed present, who have put up these posters. (Alternative explanation - or they make a mockery of it, perhaps just to torment him, specifically.) Practical. It would be either impolite (if they are Imperial) or unproductive (if not) to engage in an act of petty vandalism. But on the other hand...
The average observer, of course, can't read the big blueberry's mind. All they can see is an obviously tired and miserable ten-foot-tall man having a staring contest with a poster.
ii. CRAFTS
In unfamiliar situations, familiar objects or motifs may bring comfort. Guilliman is well-acquainted with this quirk of psychology-- if not for the company of his sons, after all, he would have taken his waking in the 42nd millennium with far less grace.
So, yes. He is sitting on the floor, cutting out a bunch of little paper leaves. He has a stack of pipe cleaners. It is looking for all the world like he's in the process of making a set of laurels out of construction paper and pipe cleaners. What are you going to do about it?
He reaches across the table for the glue. Pauses. Grabs for the glitter, too.
OOC: Sad blueberry hours! Also open to any other starters. I'm a bit rusty, so forgive me if I'm slow. HMU on plurk at
Arts and Crafts Hour.
"Hey bud, you want some green beads for that?" If you're making a
flowercrown, it helps to use them on the center pipe cleaner. "And, uh, I dunno if you've been warned, but the snowglobes are weird magic bullshit."(no subject)
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real poster hours who up | NYOOMS @ new primarch!!
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Eda Clawthorne | The Owl House | OTA
She sits up and immediately bonks her head on one of the shelves, which draws a sharp curse as she rubs her forehead. That's just her luck. What's also her luck as she looks around is that she has, apparently, been kidnapped again.
"Dang it! I was just getting used to not having trouble breathing down my neck!"
This also means a lot of problems for her down the line - such as how her curse will function in this place. They've come to terms with each other, sure, but - and oh. She casts about furiously, her one arm finally finding the wooden staff with an owl carving atop it that she's looking for. She sighs in relief.
"At least you're here, bud."
She pushes to her feet, with a grunt.
"Ugh, gettin' too old to be sleeping on floors. Alright, let's get this over with and find whatever dastardly jerk is in charge."
And then anyone watching will be treated to the sight of her holding the staff out sideways, sitting on it - and it immediately lurching off into the air, the eyes of the owl carving on the head glowing and its wings spreading. The Eda Clawthorne patented Exploring the Joint has begun.
Lobby
She points at the menorah. "Well that ain't kosher, I know that much. Metaphorically speaking. At least get the magic right, you know? To say nothing of the traditions."
There's an answering chirp, and a small brown owl alights on her shoulder with a hoot. She nods.
"Yeah, yeah, no bustin' windows with holy objects, I know. Where's a good rock when you need one?" Because she isn't the 'wait 5 minutes' sort, even when it's true.
She can also be found glaring at the mention of a 'God Emperor'. She's no fan of Emperors of any sort.
"In a pig-slug's eye," she mutters, and the owl on her shoulder ruffles its feathers in distaste. She sighs, slumping a bit. "I swear, if I'm here five minutes and I gotta stop another power-mad mooch..."
Kitchens
Now this she can get behind. A couple over-filled glasses of wine sit next to her as she engages liberally with the food items, piled high on a plate.
Seeing a one-armed, white haired lady with an obvious, pointy gold tooth chowing down might not be too out of the ordinary to you - but the little owl making itself a ham sandwich next to her might be. Not your typical owl behaviour, that.
Crafts
The more she finds shiny things around the arts and crafts, the more her eyes seem to widen. Entire bottles of glitter are being surreptitiously stored in her massive hair, while she whistles an innocent tune. Wherever she's gonna nest - yes, nest - it's gonna be sparkly this time around.
Little working tools disappear into her hair as well. She has, her entire life, been an appreciator of junk and a follower of the creed of 'if it's not nailed down and nobody yells at you...' so minor thievery is entirely ok.
A little later, she'll find her way over to the clay, because clay is fun in any corner of the multiverse. And family tradition has made her pretty good at carving - and she gets started on the bust of a certain green-haired bard hottie who won her heart many, many years before. Owlbert, for his part, is working on a...much more lopsided version of his favourite human. One ear is currently in the process of falling off.
Yamada 💭 OC - New Player
🚐 Run Along Home
Yamada isn't easily freaked out. His world is strange compared to most versions of Earth in the multiverse, and he's had a weird life even for there. Heck, there's even themed pocket dimensions that this place would fit right into it. And whenever things seem their bleakest, Yamada does the ridiculous. It helps him to handle things.
That's why he's transformed into a van, and is driving through the stacks. When shit sucks, hit dah bricks is a valid life philosophy and he'll find an exit eventually, right? His license plate is IS34 KAI, but he narrowly avoids giving someone the isekai treatment by screeching to a halt just as they cross paths. From the outside, he looks like a driver, as he sticks his upper body from the open window but from the waist down he's fused to the rest. "Hey. Look both ways before crossing."
👨🍳 What's Cookin' Good Lookin'
Once Yamada has accepted he's not going anywhere (for now), he partakes in two of his favourite things. Eating and cooking. Sure, there might be food appearing left and right, but it isn't what he wants right now. What he wants is something to keep his hands busy while he thinks. The sizzle and swoosh of frying rice wafts the delicious smell of sesame as he expertly flips it in waves with one hand. He has his back to whoever enters as he works, but he speaks to them anyway.
"If you want anything special in this, ask now; it's a critical juncture." He says it nonchalantly, as if it's a foregone conclusion they'll eat together. In his experience, nothing gets people to sit around and talk more than food.
☃️ Craft Doery
Yamada likes making things. It's taking stuff and transforming it into something else! It fulfils an instinctive need in him, induced by the Moon Gaze that gave him his powers. It's also useful for thinking. The long paper chain has become something quite complex as he breaches tradition, hooking multiples up, linking it all together until he has 'knitted' a sweater.
Someone may come along a bit later, as he completes a snow globe. And immediately after shaking, in his non-chilled reaction of the day, he smashed it. The sharp-eyed might have seen a second or two of a pair of giant, black-furred lion claws closing around a teenager with a snake tattoo on his face, but there's no chance to see it again. His hand has become a steel hammer and smashed it flat. "No globe," he mutters, wiping some of the splattered water from his chest.
run along
It's fun, and could also cause just a bit of fear. She's strengthened by mortal fear, anger, and general suffering emotions and has the ability to inflict war-terror on them to bring it out, strong and heady. Not that she's going to without a good reason, she's gone without for this long and it's not something you do to people who are basically your cellmates. But a moment of shock and alarm won't hurt anything right?
The safest way to bring that about would be to drop books on it. That does have some appeal, but she could probably take a little risk. And she could challenge herself. With a wingspan of fourteen or fifteen feet, it takes precision, quick reflexes, familiarity with the air and herself and her magic to do more than make some wing-assisted hops without slicing up her surroundings.
So: she lines herself up on a straightaway and stoops from behind, inner eyelids closed against the rush of air, until she's low enough to extend her metal-scaled feet to clack loudly against his roof and push off in the same movement. Her short claws likely scratch the finish. Hisako salvages her momentum and judiciously angles her wings to shoot ahead and through the view from the windshield, flipping her tail in a mocking wave and laughing.
Kiperina | Reverse 1999 | New, OTA
Alia is 15-years old, and this is her first time in a library. She has heard enough stories and read enough books in the circus to recognise what this place is meant to be.
She's always wanted to visit a library, even though the nature of a travelling circus has never given her luxury to do so. Waking up here puts her in an anxious mix of emotions -- pure wonder at the stacks of books and the neverending shelves, held back by a feeling in her gut. It tells her to be careful about who, or what could be lurking around these shelves.
The first thing she can think to do is to snap her fingers, and a spark of light flickers in her palm.
Good, at least her arcane ability still works.
2. KITCHEN
The young girl takes a cautious step into the room, scanning around to see if there's anyone else here as she enters. It feels strange to see such an abundance and variety of food.
She's grown used to eating simple stew because the circus couldn't afford anything more, and surviving off tasteless rations in the research center. She learned to live with that and to be content with it, and it never really crossed her mind to wish for more.
So, this little astronaut is somewhat stumped by the sight before her. Between the hearty soups and the golden pastries, she's not quite sure of where to start even though she is a little hungry now.
"Is it really okay for me to eat this?" she asks herself in a hushed voice.
3. CRAFTS ROOM
Alia has been quietly working on one of the snow globe kits.
She might nod politely and greet anyone else who passes through the crafts room, but otherwise, she's taken it upon herself to focus on completing this little project. Mr Kozlov could never afford to buy her one, and she never entertained the thought of asking him for one either.
Upon completing it, a simple winter themed one with a fir tree, a reindeer, and a snowman inside, Alia smiles just slightly, allowing herself to be quietly proud of her handicraft. She shakes it with both hands to watch the snow swirl up, but what appears inside the globe is not that.
It is the image of a young girl dressed in ribbons and ruffles, balancing up high on a tight rope so thin one may not see it on first glance. Though the winters can be harsh and unforgiving, people still came to the circus, and all that cold seemed to melt away under the warm red tent of the Great Utrennyaya Circus.
"Ah."
Not a day goes by without Kiperina missing this very tightrope.
kitchen
"If you are afraid of them being poisoned, I can assure you they are safe to eat." That's reassuring, right?
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