TEST DRIVE 001

[returnjourney]

RETURN JOURNEY: TEST DRIVE 001

Welcome to the Return Journey's test drive meme! We appreciate your interest. Our TDM features a small sample of events your character might encounter in game, which you're free to embellish or improvise with your own ideas as desired. Don't worry if you haven't read everything yet; while we recommend skimming our FAQ for relevant questions, critical information should be contained or linked within the prompts themselves!

TDM threads can be used as samples for applications. Players can mutually keep threads as game canon after being accepted into the game, though threads featuring non-canon squalls or events may need to be adjusted.

We suggest putting your character's name, canon, and potential role (warden or inmate) as the subject. If you're not sure which role you want to choose, feel free to try your hand at both!

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask here.

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The Peregrine

1. Welcome Aboard!

Welcome aboard the SFS Peregrine, a ship in the Admiralty's Transformative and Penal Reparation Fleet. It is presently circling the outer perimeter of the Oos Ring Galaxy.

Wardens have been approached personally by the Navarch with a job offer: Come aboard the SFS Peregrine to assist in the redemption of an inmate, and receive a miracle known as a windfall as payment. Even if you don't ask as many questions as you should, every warden will be treated to a short Warden Orientation video explaining their expected duties and conduct.

Inmates have died and been placed aboard the SFS Peregrine as candidates for reformation. You may have come willingly, offered a choice between death or redemption, or you may have been collected against your will. Inmates are also treated to an Inmate Orientation; you'll find you have less privileges than a warden, but more motivation for...latitude. Violence? Chaos? Bribery? Blackmail? Well, no one said the path to redemption was without a few bumps along the way.

Given staff shortages, some wardens may be asked for a favor. Rather than leaving directly for the Peregrine, you've been asked to pick up an inmate from the limbo between death and redemption. During this mission, wardens will have clearance to enter a snapshot of sorts, where the inmate died (so devoid of other living beings). You either have to talk them into willingly coming along...or bring their unconscious, fresh-from-death not-corpse with you in the Avro provided. Better hope they don't wake up on the way!

Inmates, in this case, you'll be presented with the choice of death or redemption from a warden rather than the Navarch. Or possibly not provided with a choice at all, if death has rendered you unconscious. Good luck when you awaken to find yourself in a small ship, with someone you've never met. Try not to cause any trouble.

2. Pairings

Pairings are a critical aspect of the dynamic between warden and inmate. While interactions between wardens and inmates are not restricted to those in pairings, this relationship is a bit more...inescapable. Inmates test the limits of a warden, whether they take a more typical or unusual approach to matters; likewise, wardens learn what makes an inmate tick (and hopefully cooperate). Chances are, your values will clash.

A pairing of any sort is as varied as the individuals involved in them. And today, courtesy of the Navarch's monthly announcement, you and your sorry partner have been paired. Temporary or permanent, with a warden for an inmate or an inmate for a warden, it's your first day together — out of at least a month, so good luck setting some ground rules and figuring out each other's breaking points.

3. Accidents and Sabotage

A. Lights Out

As everyone knows, when it's lights out in a prison...interesting things can happen.

Whether a natural fluctuation from traveling through heavy space debris or something more unnatural (maybe it was you), the power has gone out. While life support continues to function, it's pitch black and any areas usually locked to wardens are left with doors open. It's the perfect setting for a riot, breaking and entering, thievery...your general crimes, petty and otherwise. Wardens, of course, are expected to stymie these efforts, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll succeed. What's a little chaos between friends?

Our apologies if you happen to be in an elevator when the power dies.

---

B. Invasive Species

Being in space, sometimes space things happen.

Somehow (and hopefully you or someone you know isn't responsible for that "somehow"), a greater lunar tetacocien has gotten on board. Quite a feat, since they're the size of a rhino, but they have an impressive ability to squeeze through anything large enough to fit their beak. Unfortunately venomous, carnivorous, and native to the starstuff of Oos, the creature needs to be rounded up before it destroys anything (or anyone) aboard the ship. Please do not attempt to eat; the flesh is toxic.

The multi-legged predator can be immobilized with shots from an energy weapon... Too bad inmates can't carry them. Time to improvise! Or steal one, if you're canny enough.

4. Squalls

Occasionally, the ship passes through squalls, the equivalent of cosmic turbulence that can mess with little things like, say...the fabric of reality. These are shipwide effects, though who they hit is variable. Sometimes you might fall victim; other times you might be the one standing by, exasperated, as you deal with those affected.

(In other words, it's up to player discretion. And feel free to make up your own squalls!)

---

A. Truth Bomb

One week, those affected cannot tell a lie. Wardens and inmates alike can only speak the truth, though it varies whether they blurt out a response to any question asked or can keep mum.

---

B. Stuck Together

Another week, you're stuck together. Travel any farther than two meters from your buddy and you'll experience intense physical pain. There isn't anything visible to this connection; it isn't something you can sever (not that this means you can't try). So have fun with your group activities and try not to kill each other.

5. The Peregrine

The Peregrine's layout and protocols have been designed with its intended passengers in mind, who are primarily Earth humanoids and inclined towards certain social and cultural practices. If you're wondering why you are on a ship of Earth humanoids despite not being one yourself, please understand that all ships in the Admiralty have a population capacity. At times it may be necessary to assign other species to a ship of this type, based on availability.

As a warden, you have full run of the ship map. Inmates...less so, but that's nothing a little creativity can't fix, right? Just remember, if a warden catches an inmate somewhere that inmate shouldn't be, it falls on the warden to handle the matter. And if the warden turns a blind eye...well, let's hope neither of you get caught. While it won't result in anything as extreme as a demotion, wardens can expect to get a stern dressing down; inmates, meanwhile, will be reprimanded by the warden who found them.

6. Networking

Now that you've powered on your CommLink for the first time and sat through the short tutorial and appropriate orientation, you're ready to explore the wonders of messaging. Video, audio, or text, the world is your oyster and you surely have opinions on it.

There is no anonymous option and IDs must be some variation of your name. (IC, characters will have to try their luck and see what the communicator will or won't accept when they register; OOC, it's up to players to decide what name to use if the character has multiple names or aliases.)

Wardens have access to a group network filter, something that inmates lack, and can track inmates throughout the ship with their CommLink. Inmates, best avoid getting your device confiscated or monitored.

7. Wildcard

If it's in our game pages, you can use it as a prompt! The sky's the limit.

Comments

TEST DRIVE 001 Q&A

[returnjourney]

Re: TEST DRIVE 001 Q&A

[kovitous]

Am I reading the housing page right? Inmates are two to a bed?

Loki Odinson | MCU/TLV CR AU

[shiftedshape]

1. Lights Out
[Loki’s had little reason to fear the dark since he was a young child. Conjuring light was among the first illusions he ever learned, after all. It’s the possible reasons behind this power outage that have him wary, and thus, despite having a rather bright light emanating from his hand to illuminate the corridors around him as he makes his way to Warden Command, he is very much taking his time.

Slower steps means less noise. Less noise means he can hear someone approach, though that alone won’t give him any indication of intent, so when he hears something like a footstep behind him, he whirls around with a flare of green magic in his free hand, ready to fling it forward.]

Who’s there?

2. Invasive Species
[When Loki finally catches up with the horrible creature– which has managed to corner someone, wonderful –he quickly learns two things. One, he confirms that his multiple attempts to phase the thing with his magic are, indeed, completely a waste of time. Two, he discovers that his pistol does cause the thing some pain, even at a graze. Three, it turns out he’s a terrible shot.

Three things. Whatever. The point is, now it’s turned to him and is clearly changing its mind in regards to targets.

Loki turns to whoever it was that was backed up into the wall and shouts:]

Any chance you’ll be a better with this than I am?

[He’s certainly sweat enough on the damn thing to not worry about the bio-lock. Probably.

The creature screeches and lunges towards Loki, who makes an executive (wardenly?) decision and tosses the pistol towards his new ally while he rushes to throw up a shield and attempt to shove the creature back towards the wall opposite.]

3. Truth Bomb
[Loki starts the video looking, well. Mildly annoyed.]

I think I prefer the version of this with the bugs. At least then I could attempt to keep things to myself. This is, well. Rather an invasion of privacy, don’t you think?

[It is for him at least. He’s being compelled by any question he hears, and the few times he’s managed any sort of resistance have been. Messy, to say the least.

He brightens, turning on the charm a little. All the better to win people over, if that's at all necessary given how irritating this is.]

If anyone else is similarly uncomfortable, I may have a temporary solution. It would require you trusting me not to take advantage, of course, but, well. I suppose you could just ask me whether I intend to get all your secrets.

[...Which does sort of depend on who it is, actually, but this is a fun instance of technically true on his part.]

I’ll be in the mess hall if anyone happens to be interested. You may have to work to get my attention though. As for the rest of you, well. Good luck, I suppose?

[Loki can indeed be found in the mess hall, nose in a book, deaf to the world thanks to a temporary sound illusion.]

2. Invasive Species

[lessandmorethanhuman]

[Alex hated this whole thing damn place right then. He had no powers, and there were big nasties on board. At least he still had his memories--ALL of them, his own and others. Cornered he might be, but Alex kept calm and prepared to dodge. Even without his powers he was still athletic enough to dodge probably.

Then someone else shows up, and oh good they had a weapon. That...they were a terrible shot with.]

Yes.

[Called back, and then he's grabbing the Pistol that's tossed from him and taking aim. Borrowed-and-assimilated memories come in very handy sometimes, as he's a steady shot as he takes aim at the beast. Calmly firing at the beast, with no hint or chance it'll hit the warden.]

Alex Mercer | Prototype | Inmate

[lessandmorethanhuman]

Lights out
[Normally lights out and it being dark would not be a problem for Alex. Right now, he was frustrated though--his powers weren't working. Which was annoying--as he'd love to be able to have his thermal-vision right now. It would help some...

Not that he could do anything about that yet. In the meantime, he's moving carefully down the halls. Checking rooms which are unlocked, and trying to locate a flashlight and a weapon. Preferably a weapon with flashlight attached.

His senses are alert as much as he can be, moving down the halls in a military-walk that was that crouching-pace that made minimal noise. Alex wasn't jumping at every little sound--but he was definitely alert. So when it sounded like footsteps coming towards him, he turned. In a wary stance and on guard.]

Truth Bomb
[Alex had figured out fairly quickly he couldn't lie. Why he couldn't, he had no clue--and it bothered him. Not that he lied as a general course; he was more the silent type. Which is what he was trying hard to do now. Stay quiet, and answer with the bare minimum when asked a question. Not that it helped much when there was a conversation he had to be part of for some reason.]

Stuck Together
[Oh he hated this. Alex was a private person by nature and preferred his alone time. Bad enough he was already stuck with all the restrictions of an inmate--but now he was caused physical PAIN when he went too far from this one person. Even if he normally was alright with them, this made him grumpy.]

Any idea what's causing this? And how we fix it?

Lights out, have a warden

[hiddenblade]

[The dark has always been a comfortable place for Ezio, whether it's to skulk across rooftops or stroll through alleyways, but the ship is a strange place to have in darkness. The cool white hallways and smooth floors are difficult to be quiet on, and it feels like every footstep, no matter how soft, is amplified a hundredfold. Even the way his cloak brushes him feels intolerably loud.

But at least that goes two ways, and with his fine-tuned senses and exaggerated confidence, he has little concern about anyone sneaking up on him. What concern he has is reserved for what inmate might take advantage of the situation.

When he hears the footsteps ahead stop, he stops too. And then, to test the waters: he whistles.]

Carol Denning / Orange is the New Black (TLV CRAU) / Inmate

[classifieds]

1a. Lights Out - OTA

[ The first thing Carol does is head for warden command, where she can be found rifling through the mini-bar and gathering as many cans and bottles as she can carry into her arms.

When she hears someone else's footsteps, she pauses. ]

State your business.

[ As if she's in charge here while the power's out. The last thing she needs is a warden on her case or worse, a weasel of an inmate willing to snitch. ]

1b. Lights Out - Inmates Only

[ Carol can be found trying to pry open the door to the vending machine at commissary now that it's finally out of power (she never could find that damned outlet). For however long this ends up going on, she wants to be the one who can hand out resources.

Unfortunately for her, she can't get the damn thing open on her own. She'll need another inmate to help out. ]

Hey, you. Help me break this shit open. I'll make it worth your while.

2. Stuck Together - OTA

[ Carol tried more than once to distance herself from her assigned partner, only to subject the both of them to seething pain.

Scowling, she grabs them by the shirt (or arm, if they aren't wearing one) and yanks them over. ]

Guess you're coming with me, amigo.

[ Because she's sure as hell not going with them. ]

3. Wildcard

[ Anything goes! Feel free to tweak any of the existing prompts too, if she'd know your character from TLV and would accordingly be either more or less hostile towards them. If you want to plot anything you can find me at venoms. ]

1B

[shit_happens]

Sure. Stand aside.

[Todd grabs a side of the vending machine and pushes it slightly so he can get behind it. Then he throws himself on it using all his weight.

It takes him more effort than expected to set it in the original position again, but eventually he succeeds, making dozens of snacks fall to the floor. Through the now broken glass, he reaches for a bag of cheetos. Opens it and eats in silence, staring blankly. Oh, he almost forgot, where are his manners?]

Want some?

The One Electronic (TOE) | Overside Comics | Warden

[searchengine]

3A - LIGHTS OUT

[ The lights flicker - then cut, amid the anachronistic screech and grind of a mechanism that must have long eclipsed the need for gears. The elevator shudders to a halt.

Static crackles across a television, as the soft blue light of TOE's screen casts eery dominion over the car. It swivels toward his companion: ]

We are between floors.

[ The gravity here is - lesser. A leap sends you higher, falling becomes a business of greater seconds. One jointed metal hand unhooks his seatbelt. ]


5 - OBSERVATION AREA

[ A spark flickers from one finger, ignites the end of an antiquated pipe. To inmates - ]

You aren't meant to be here.

[ Or a warden: ]

Do you spy that below?

[ - Either, delivered impassively. ]


7 - WILDCARD

[ hmu on plurk if you've got any questions, otherwise i'm up for whatever. probably not apping this dude right away. :) ]

Observation area, inmate!

[someofus]

[Dutch lounges against the rail, watching the stars. He is in his forties and well-dressed, tailored vest and pinstripe trousers, empty holsters made of elaborately tooled leather. Carrying himself like he still has his guns –– his god-damn right to have guns –– is a matter of dignity.

He meets impassive with an unbothered drawl:]

And that rule is as pointless as the rest 'o them.

[His gaze drags from the being's cigarette to its face.]

How the hell do you smoke with that thing on your head?

Todd Alquist | Breaking Bad & El Camino | Inmate

[shit_happens]

3A. Lights out
[Todd looks around as the lights go out. A couple of inmates take the initiative to riot, running about the corridors and assaulting the wardens. With a mouth shrug to non-verbally communicate a 'not bad', Todd intrudes an office quite casually.

He is not thinking of causing trouble - he's perfectly able to chill, he can do anything that the situation requires, really. That being said, he has a thing for stealing. Nothing serious, just little trophies. So he grabs a pen holder, and upon turning around he sees someone. He greets them with an upwards nod.]

Hey.

[hiddenblade]

[Ezio is bloodied but still on his feet when steps into the office, fresh off depositing a now-incapacitated inmate in a Solitary cell. He's keyed up, moving in long, confident strides with no effort to hide his movements. Finding someone in the dim light of this office does nothing to brighten his mood.

Decidedly firm, just on the cusp of impatient:]

What are you doing in here?

Rhys Strongfork | Borderlands / TLV CRAU Inmate

[smugreport]

3B

[ Everything was bullshit. From being transferred to the initial barge against his will, and then, AGAIN, against his will ferried on to this one. A ship with even less amenities to offer, even if he was semi-barred from a lot of them in the last place.

But this, this, is really going to push him to his breaking point. Stuck on a ship in nowheresville space with a rampant, large creature out to kill him (well, not him specifically but he's taking the whole scenario personally anyways.)

For now he's ducked behind an overturned table in the mess hall, peaking over the side to get a lay of his escape route- well him and whoever else is stuck here with him if they want to do the smart thing and follow his lead.

He lets out a sharp breath. ]

Okay. Okay, yeah, yeah we can do this. Just follow my lead and uh- just follow me okay I have an idea.

[ Kinda. ]

NETWORK

Rhyz.$trongfork has logged on!

This place doesn't even have a spa. :(

network!

[shiftedshape]

l.odinson
Were you really so attached to the last one?
Also did you choose that ridiculous handle for yourself?

Silco | Arcane | Inmate

[kaijuice]

[ spoilers for arcane s1 ]


1 - HEY KID WANNA SEE SEE A DEAD BODY | Wardens

[ Limbo cuts a strange scene: Candles, crow bones, a couple chairs dangling rope. Then there's this guy, shot full of holes; some steampunk-ass gun abandoned in the puddling blood. It's like they say, can't take it with you,

Except the corpse. That's your job here.

Return journey's quiet for a day, maybe two. Trans-dimensional time gets fuzzy when your only company is unconscious. Easy to let an eye slip, focus wander, neglect to go through all of the camping equipment -

A heavy clatter, a harder thump. The dead man staggers into view, lighter and flare brandished at the ready. Snarled: ]

Talk,

[ Might want to begin with fires in spaceships. ]



3B - EIGHT LEGS, IMAGINE

[ Venomous, carnivorous, all things considered a wonderful distraction. For other people. All things considered, this could be better-timed -

He's halfway into the air vent when one blue-ringed tentacle wraps around his leg, and yanks down. ]



4A - WHAT IS TRUTH BUT A SPOILER FOR A CARTOON SHOW | Inmates

[ It isn't as though there's warning. Silco's crouched behind a box in the storage bay when some innocuous question (How's the weather? What's up, doc?) settles at once heavy on the tongue.

He stutters, uncharacteristic: a frog in the throat, someone politely swallowing a little vomit. Then lurches forward, one hand spasming out just in time to catch the edge of the box, keep the rest of his body from sprawling into the path of an oncoming cargo loader. Hissed, ]

Repeat that,

[ Not a request. ]



7 - WILDCARD

[ i'm up for whatever! hit me up on plurk for questions or bespoke starters. ]

1

[cainhurst]

[There she sits, cross-legged and head bowed down at a slight angle, the pale of her hair contrasted to her dark garb. She lifts her gaze at that single word, that single command, and her tone is calm. Measured. Understanding, whether or not the sentiment would be appreciated.

The rest of her is unmoving.]

That was quite a scene, the place where I found you.

[An odd table setting indeed, like a parody of the banquets oft held at Cainhurst. Before the Executioners came.]

How are you feeling?

jinx | arcane | inmate. (spoilers for arcane: imagine dragons the video game tv show.)

[blowup]

a. IN THE ARVO | wardens only.

Jinx is in terrible pain, bloody, beaten, and the world turns black with the sound of her explosions. And then... less so, somehow. It's very odd. She hadn't planned to live.

But you have to take things as they come to you, or you'll never get an edge up anywhere. As her senses come back to her, she realizes she's in the seat of some kind of carriage. It moves with the unfailing rhythm of an automated dray, lacking the steady rhythm of hoofbeats. Whoever found Jinx's body, most likely unconscious and shoved off a bridge, is probably rich.

The thought is funny. It spurs her to action. She screams at the top of her lungs, as though she hasn't been aware if unmoving before now.

b. LIGHTS OUT.

Was someone in the elevator when the power died?

There's a sickening crash, and silence. Something in the dark moves, and maybe it's dust settling-- no, the sound gets louder. A child? A high-voiced creature stifles sobs somewhere out in the darkness. Their voice is high and panicky, confused. "H-hello?"

A sob echoes through metallic confines.

"Is- is there anybody out there?"

c. TRUTH BOMB.

You are minding your own business in literally any part of the ship when suddenly- something grabs you. Someone. A teenager with a manic expression, all joy, all excitement, very little concern for your personal space. Her grip, wherever it lands, digs in at the fingernail. Her eyes gleam.

"What's your biggest secret?"

d. WILDCARD.

[im down for anything, fingerguns.]

b. Lights Out (Fellow inmate okay?)

[lessandmorethanhuman]

[Alex heard the crash, and sighed...then headed in the direction it came from. Mostly because he was curious what was broken. The sobs though, had him dropping his quieter-steps and moving a bit more quickly. The voice had him fast-walking.]

You break anything?

[If his memory was right, this was near the elevators. Moving towards the metal doors. Hands out and testing, trying to make out dim shapes in the dark, to see if the doors would open. If the person was stuck between floors, they might have a problem.]

Kovit | Not Even Bones | Inmate

[kovitous]

1. Limbo (Warden)

The boat is small, a rowboat with broken oars, spiraling lazily down a river so broad it might be a sea. Only the near shore is visible, a jungle of thick-trunked trees, all burning. The roar of the fire is a deafening scream.

Black smoke reaches for the vulnerable little craft in thin, almost-living tendrils. They flow into the young man lying at the bottom of the boat, lying in a shallow well of his own blood, and he breathes them in in short, ecstatic gasps.

3B. Invasive Species (OTA)

Pain draws him. Someone is hurt, and Kovit is on his way like a moth to a flame. He's so focused on the pain that he doesn't hear the slithering, shuffling sound of the predator until he turns the corner and nearly trips into it - and its victim. His breath shaking from the good sweet strong intoxicating allure of the injury, he has to shake his head, forcing himself to focus on the danger at hand.

He still might need urged not to just stand there.

Network (OTA)

[Kovit's voice falls somewhere between flat and amused, with a Thai accent that's had a long while to fade. He's got a grin that's on the too-wide side, and the whites of his eyes show all around.]

Who do we have to butter up to get apps on these? I haven't gotten to play Flappy Bird in months.

Limbo!

[hiddenblade]

The sterile white plastic and steel of the Peregrine gives way to the bright light of a burning forest. The heat is hard on his eyes, and his balance in the boat wavers as he situates himself, shifting his weight so he can stand around the boy without tipping the whole thing. The tendrils float around the craft, and Ezio follows them with his eyes, from the air to the boy.

As far as pick-ups go, this one will be interesting.

Ezio crouches at the boy's side, resting an elbow on one knee, unbothered by his long white coat trailing in the blood. He pulls down his hood; he is middle-aged, tanned and well-manicured, his mouth set in a firm line, his eyes soft. Death is always hard, even to those who laugh through it.

"Can you speak?" he asks.

Laura Moon | American Gods | Inmate

[moldering]

[CWs: gore??ish, nasty corpse stuff, vomit, bugs]

I. PICKUP

[The weather is warm, the sky is cloudy, and hidden birds sing somewhere in the foliage. Broken glass litters the asphalt, a windshield spread in a thousand pieces thirty feet in any direction. The vehicle that glass belongs to is an ice cream truck knocked on its side. The driver herself lies close to it, sprawled on her back, legs bent at uncomfortable angles. A red bomber jacket lays on the ground by her feet. She's dressed plainly, blacks and grays, no obvious indication of affinity with private organizations or the military.

Of note is an autopsy scar, a lengthy Y-shape from collarbone to stomach, reopened during the crash. The separate sections have fallen open, bone and muscle exposed and visible from a distance. Flies over over her, the buzzing louder as proximity increases. Closer inspection will reveal a gold coin rests against the meat of her abdomen, bearing an image of the sun.

It will also be made clear by the shifting of cloudy eyes that the woman on the road isn't quite dead yet.

She should be, she understands. The coin being locked loose enough for her to be rendered immobile but close enough that she's conscious is a guess, a theory. That Sweeney should have already been on her like a vulture, plucking it out of her rotting body as promised, is just fact. Being reduced to this was to die, and the part of her not reeling at the nightmarish deja vu of it all wants to fight, to scream. But there's nothing. No muttered Gaelic, no whimpers, no heavy footfall over crunching glass to rob her of her chance. Maybe he's unconscious. Maybe dead.

Or, she thinks, as the Warden sent for her retrieval makes themselves visible, It's just more fucking pageantry. Some even-worse new afterlife for the twice dead. Time frozen for the next haughty stranger to step up and take their pound of flesh. That'd be her luck.

To her own surprise, she's able to speak.]

You'd better not pull out any feathers.


VI. HYPOTHETICALLY [ID: LMoon]

So if someone popped that eel tube, would they die

Can you pick them up or would you lose a hand

Serious and fast answers thanks


V. DON'T YOU PEOPLE KNOCK

[Once again left to feel out the shifting limitations of her own body, Laura approaches the initial days aboard with nervous restraint. Avoids unnecessary heavy lifting, water, heat, food, and humidity as best she's able. Checks the stitches securing her arm to her torso morning and night, and keeps them covered in between lest they present any easy target. Hovers, privately, around mirrors: waiting for her hair to mat or fall out, her eyes to develop some film, some worsening of the pallor she arrived with. She hasn't been on board long, but it's hardly a slow process.

(Her presence is no meeker for this preoccupation. The unnatural strength she'd let herself grow accustomed to is gone, but the stubborn self assurance it enabled isn't so easily stolen. The somewhat recent refusal to conceive of anything as above her weight class, it turns out, has prepared her well for prison. More than once she wishes she could talk to Shadow about it, ask him again what his first weeks on the inside were like as if she hadn't been calling him all the while. Every time she catches herself, her expression sours.)

Five days in and cautiously convinced that her decomposition has halted, she eats. Shaved ice, not tasted and hardly felt.

On day six, daring to wonder if whatever lunatic running the place might have seen fit to start fixing her — there's no redemption if she's dead dead, and what sick fuck would leave her frozen in between — she tries a cup of soup. She doesn't feel anything, but she doesn't feel worse, and that could be something.

It's not.

It's day seven and she's about to leave the inmate bathroom when something in her abdomen pulls taut, an almost alien feeling against the otherwise sweeping lack of sensation. Her throat itches. She clears it, and it turns into a cough. A cough progresses quickly into a fit, and quicker still it shifts from dry to wet. She lurches for the nearest sink, where she stays, white(er)-knuckling the edges as her stomach empties itself. The soup, entirely undigested, isn't surprising. Persistent remnants of embalming fluid is old news. The maggots are new. The heaving ebbs, and she's left to stare into the sink — silent, brow furrowed, her expression some muddled mix of frustration and fear.

It's gone the moment she's aware of another presence in the room. Her eyes lock onto theirs in the mirror as she flings the faucet on and shifts to block the sight of the sink with her slight body, even as she defiantly squares her shoulders. Only after she's rinsed her mouth and chin does she address them.]

The fuck are you looking at?


WILDCARD

[Throw anything at her! Feel free to pm with questions/concerns/planning.]

V

[classifieds]

[ Carol's got no respect for personal space, a side effect of having spent the last few years in real prison. It doesn't matter what kind of moment someone else is having - if they're sick or sobbing or trying to fuck or snort something without being noticed - she'll just walk right in and do what she wants to do anyway.

She's not nosy; she doesn't lean over and try to inspect the sink that Laura's so obviously trying to hide, but she strolls right up and starts fixing her hair in the adjacent mirror. ]

Whatever I want.

[ Once upon a time she may have followed that up with 'you got a problem with that?' or some other thinly veiled challenge, now she just says it on its own like it's an inalienable truth. ]

If you've got something to hide aim for the toilet next time. Easier cleanup.

[ She takes her glasses off and wipes them on her shirt, trying to get rid of an errant smudge. ]

William | Westworld (CRAU) | Warden

[omniavincit]

There's nothing remarkable about him—just a man in a well-tailored suit, his hair a little more threaded with grey than it had been on that other ship. A few more lines stamped around his mouth. He walks the halls like he's going somewhere. It's his gaze that tends to wander—alert almost to nervousness, climbing the walls, seizing on an unobtrusive cleaning bot and trailing it long past the point of casual interest. It may take a second or third glance, but he seems brittle. Besieged.


A. WELCOME?

When he gets to his destination he presents his comm to the sensor, movements automatic as the parting glass doors. He hesitates only a moment, breath sighing out, before stepping into the infirmary. Anyone already there can expect the full force of his attention on whatever it is they're doing, otherwise he examines everything, starting with the bioprinter.

Should you enter later, you might find him stretched out in the Auto-Doc awaiting a scan—clothed, though his suit jacket and boots have been stashed in a corner, and very much awake. Later still, and you may catch him with his shirt off, blood dripping from a gash high on his left shoulder.

His hand, blood under the nails, clutching something tight.

(Inmates will have to knock. Apologies if you're dying.)


B. HOW DO YOU DO FELLOW INMATES | inmates (or other really nosy wardens)

His mouth sets at the sight of the dormitory, the line of impersonal cubes. He imagines them full, stuffed with people ripped from their worlds, their deaths. He opens the nearest trunk (sorry if your shit's in there, he won't touch it unless it looks suspicious), pokes his head into the nearest bunk. Then he gets down to business: takes off scuffed-but-cared-for boots and climbs into one of the top bunks. He lounges on the mattress, prods the pillow, slides the privacy barrier back and forth and does some experimental tapping on the walls.

If you manage to witness all this without offering any comment (congratulations!), he winds up seated at the edge of one of the top bunks, feet dangling. “Why're they like this, you think?” he asks, one hand absently sketching a box in the air. “Ease of transport?”

PARTY OPTION

...and then the lights go out.


C. PARING

He thinks he has a feel for this flood—squall, he reminds himself—but texting proves trickier than expected. Type out a lie, and sometime after you hit send it morphs into the truth.

In that spirit:

ID: william.temple

who here has a knife?


D. PAIRING | inmates

William does a little advance research, makes one of his rare trips to warden command and skims reports for anything he might've missed. Then he keeps an eye out—you may look up from your meal to find him sliding into the seat across from you. If you frequent the gym he could be there after one of your workouts, looking about as out of place as—albeit less striking than—the tank full of eels. If his timing seems a little uncanny, well, that's because he's tracking you.

If you're determined to give him the slip he'll indulge in a bit of cat-and-mouse, but eventually show up at the inmate dorms—likely while people are sleeping—to loudly inquire as to your whereabouts.

In any event, once you're face to face he'll offer a callused hand to shake. “William. I've been through this before.” A jerk of his head, a slight grimace. “Sort of.”

[ ooc: Up to you whether it's temp or permanent, and feel free to include details about your char William might have picked up on/be able to observe, invent trouble they might have caused, etc! Also feel free to combine with a squall/another prompt! ]


E. IS FOR EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

Wildcard me!

B

[paradoxi]

Fitz has watched the whole production without saying a word. Mainly because he'd adopted a sprawl he feels best encapsulates 'a portrait of a young (more or less) cultist as a prisoner' a couple hours back and has no intention of moving. A little bit because it can be useful to see what people reveal - or chose to reveal in such situations. Besides, it wasn't his trunk.

He's not devoted enough to silent ennui not to respond when the man finally speaks.

"Ease of building? Build a box from some space chain store."

Peter Quill | MCU

[zunesareawesome]

A. Pickup: cw: hypothermia, air deprivation

[Everything is floating.

That's the first thing he can think of. Except, it's just really, really hard to think.

A candy wrapper floats past the side of his head. Huh. Usually those don't do that.

Then a few nuts and bolts, and then some kind of frozen sludge that looks like leaked fuel. Also huh. That's probably a really bad thing.

...oh.

He's in space.

Like, outside. In space. Outside a ship, in space. Floating. The Benatar is nowhere to be seen, but the looks of the debris around him makes him think they must have taken a catastrophic hit--it's not enough debris to suggest that the ship was destroyed, but maybe--

--there are lights and flashes and screams and he went to the back to try and repair the engine but there was a blast and then--

--and then blast hit the hull.

He can only hope they made it out of...whatever was attacking them and they were okay. Whatever happened meant they weren't able to get back to pick him up.

Because he, right now, is very, very much not okay. He has his helmet but that's only going to last so long against being out in space, in the cold.

He can only hope they get him back in time.

They did not get him back in time.

But someone else did. The next thing he knows he's in a small ship and he wakes up gasping, slamming his hand against the ship's floor, trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible. His helmet's off, and his hair is askew as he tries to take stock of his surroundings. The gasping doesn't stop him from attempting to talk, though.]

What the hell--

B. Pairings:

Can I just say that this is dumb?

[He hasn't stopped talking since the announcement and they were paired together.]

It's just really dumb that you have to do this. I mean, I get the whole reason why, but that doesn't mean it isn't stupid. Because it's really stupid? And besides, I saved the galaxy a lot. That should totally count, right? Isn't there a point system here? I think saving the galaxy counts way more than all the other stuff I did. And the other stuff I did wasn't even that bad. I mean, I still am a Legendary Outlaw but that doesn't mean I should be punished for it...

C. Truth Bomb:

[He's trying so hard. So hard to keep quiet.

But it just isn't working. It's like a compulsion he can't help. He just keeps blurting things out.]

Your outfit sucks! You really went with those boots and that jacket? You really don't know how to keep to a theme. Where did you even buy that crap?

D. Networking

un: quill

whos got the candy stash

E. Wildcard:

Anything goes!

C

[shiftedshape]

[Of course in the brief moment before he can muffle his hearing, someone has to insult him. And ask a question. Two of them. Norns. Gritting his teeth, he turns to bite out his reply:]

I wasn't going for a theme, I was going for function given we recently had a gelatinous, spitting alien loose on the ship and I don't know about you, but I'd like to avoid any acid burns if it happened to have any friends. [Is that enough? Nope, his stomach is turning already.] And I didn't buy it, I conjured it. The jacket, anyway.

Eliot Spencer | Leverage

[likeknives]

A. Pickup: cw: gunshot wounds, blood, violence, violent death
[It was bound to happen eventually.

He knew it was only a matter of time, the danger he put himself in. And he was at peace with the fact that he'd very likely die protecting them. A part of him is glad that they didn't have to see it, that they don't see him fall.

But a part of him wishes that he could say goodbye one last time. That he could see them one last time.

He tackles the man and they go down, no less than six bullets fired directly in his chest. He doesn't have to see it to know they ripped through his heart and lungs, shredding them. Even if an ambulance got here in time there was no way they could save him.

With his last breath he knocks the guy out, knowing that once medical help got here they'd get him. With his last breath he meted out one last bit of justice. He stills as his strength leaves him, finally, his breath slowing, the terrible pain finally leaving him for good.

He's going to miss them all so much.]

B. Pairing:

[It's bad enough he's here. He's just ready to put his head down, do his time, and peace out. It's so much worse that he has to deal with...

...with this. With them.

He doesn't say much after the announcement. He just stares, his eyes wide, glaring, maybe hoping to scare them off with a single look so that they'd just leave him alone and mind their own business.

It sounds an awful lot like growling when you get close to him.]

C. Truth Bomb:

[It's like they're doing this specifically to make him suffer. He's still not entirely sure they're not.]

I want you to leave me alone.

[There. That's the truth, too.]

D. Networking:

[Despite his grumpy demeanor, it's easier to get information if you're friendly. And, he's pretty damn good at grifting. It's really easy to pretend you were the Nice Young Man from That Little Town.

Plus, this was the surest way to draw out Hardison if he was here.]

un: Spencer

I haven't been here that long, so I'm a little lost on how all of this works. I'm not the greatest with phones or computers, so if you don't mind lending a hand, I'd sure appreciate it.

D. Wildcard:

Anything goes!

un: william.temple

[omniavincit]

use fewer capitals [ Helping! ]

what're you trying to do?

Dolores Abernathy | Westworld | Inmate

[beyondallthis]

II. AND DO AS ADVERSARIES DO IN LAW

[Pairings have been announced for all of three minutes when her warden's communicator indicates a message received. The abundant displeasure on the other end of the conversation isn't obvious. There's no need for it to be. The arrangement is allegedly permanent, and an unprompted display of hostility would get her nowhere. To what extent she's able, she'd like to appear cooperative.

This is not to say a great deal won't be read into their reply to her first request.]

I would like to see my file.


III - A. TO UNPATHED WATERS, UNDREAMED SHORES

[Initially she expects the outage to be a flicker, some turbulence to be explained and insistently smoothed over before the more shortsighted or opportunistic of inmates get ideas. A quarter hour passes with no word from the Navarch, nothing on the comms beyond wild speculation. When she finally exits her room it's a matter of curiosity, a need to verify the sighted claim that all doors are presently open.

She wonders if the state of the ship means Archimedes is laying prone in the library, vulnerable to the temper of all that pass. Rather than check, she risks an elevator ride that feels like inviting disaster and makes for the Center Axis.

No goings-on are investigated, at no point does she intervene in how others choose to utilize the opportunity. The observation area is all that slows her beeline. There's no unguarded resource to commandeer or information to be gathered there, but it's quiet, and the expanse of space opened up to her feels both familiar and exotic. The one thing, perhaps, she feels glad to have seen since arriving. The pleasure is short lived in favor of advancing to the vehicles and crafts housed in the bay.

She doesn't get her hopes up for escape. The area would have been better guarded if it were this easy. Yet she is found hovering around an Avro, peering through windows at any visible controls or materials within. Testing doors, on the off chance she could flee. (To where, she wouldn't know. The navigation may be beyond her, but she refuses to consider she may never see her home again.)

She is not surprised or bothered to be discovered; she smiles, affect serene. On the heels of seeing the myriad stars outside, perhaps even wistful.]

Have you been in one of these yet?


III - B. A GOOD LIVERY OF HONOR

[It may be the aftermath of the lunar tetacocien rampage, or it may be that the thick of it has simply moved to another arm of the ship. Dolores can tell only that her limping walk to the Infirmary (head aching, lip split, her upper left arm missing an impressive amount of what the beast was displeased to discover was only analogous to flesh) has been blessedly uninterrupted. One problem at a time, and blood loss is surely the most pressing. The door she reaches is locked, of course. Her communicator is crushed in a hallway on the first arm. Nothing to do then but wait, slumping against the door and taking grim comfort in the knowledge it shouldn't be long. She can't be the only injured. The first to come across her will be addressed quickly, curtly.]

I need to be let in.

[The choice of words is deliberate. Let in, she means. Pointedly not accompanied.]


VII. WILDCARD

[Hit her with anything!]

III - B

[positronivity]

[The figure that turns a nearby corner and observes Dolores levelly appears to be a strangely pale man with yellowed eyes, dressed in a plain grey jumpsuit and carrying a biopistol in his right hand. It is in his right hand because his left arm terminates at the elbow, crushed metal and snapped wires extruding from the joint.

That doesn't seem to bother him, not in terms of pain or infirmity, as he holsters the biopistol and approaches her with quick, sure steps. Data crouches in front of her with a facial expression that could easily be interpreted as concern.]

You are severely injured. [He offers her his remaining hand, palm up.] I must move you before I open the door. Do you believe you can stand?

Lieutenant Commander Data | Star Trek | Warden | OTA

[positronivity]

[cw: temporary paralysis]

1. Welcome Aboard [Inmate Only]

Accepting this assignment was a difficult decision. It had required nearly six full seconds of deliberation and several days of additional consultation to determine his choice. The ethical, logistical, and practical challenges of this particular endeavor now occupied a portion of his thoughts at all times, something that might be considered analogous to the human emotion of worry.

However, at this time Data is not preoccupied with these concerns. His pale yellow-gold eyes are observing the other passenger in the ARVO, his expression - as ever - impassive.

"I observe by the alteration in your vital signs that you have regained consciousness," he says, his voice even and calm, but empty of comfort, reassurance, or any of the other empathetic qualities, "Please do not be alarmed. You are in a safe place."

If they open their eyes, they will see a blank faced pale man dressed in a very plain grey jumpsuit seated across from them, apparently unarmed and unconcerned with the fact they are unrestrained. (Applying restraints to an unconscious individual was not only unsafe, but inhumane.)

3A. Lights Out

When the lights went out, Data shifted his visual perception processing filters to make the best possible use of the light that remained available and accessed his memory of the emergency procedure protocols of the ship. He had then attempted to move, which was when he was able to determine that whatever had affected the functioning of the ship had a similar effect on him.

A diagnostic activation test of his functions was conducted, and Data concluded that the additional shielding he had installed in his head as a precautionary measure had provided protection of his brain, his primary sensory perception, and his speech functions. Every other function below the second of his artificial vertebrae was no longer responding to queries or commands. In other words, he was stuck.

So there he stands, halfway down a connection point between the central axis of the ship (and the sensitive command structures and areas therein) and the primary inmate gathering areas. Whenever someone comes down this hallway, they will find him there, regarding them with an apparent complete lack of concern, whoever they happen to be.

"I would not advise continuing to move about the ship during an emergency unless you are assigned to an emergency response role," he says, "Please proceed to the nearest secure location and shelter in place until normal functioning is restored."

4A Truth Bomb, anywhere on board

As a general rule, Data does not lie. Therefore, it took several unusual social interactions both participated in and observed before he determined what the impact of this squall was.

After reviewing his knowledge of social norms across sapient humanoids, Data concludes the polite course of action is to avoid asking direct questions that may lead to a predefined list of 'sensitive subjects', courtesy of Counselor Troi. (The counselor had insisted on providing them, accompanied by a facial expression she most often directed at Commander Riker.)

This has turned out to restrict the possible conversational maneuvers available more than Data would have initially anticipated.

"Hello. Are you aware of the weather?" He asks the next person who approaches him, having eliminated 'how are you?', 'are you in need of assistance?', and other open ended questions of that type.

5. The Peregrine, Greenhouse

Data is assisting in the pruning of a bush with slender, purple tinged leaves and pink berries, working seamlessly between the garden drones as they move down the row opening and closing the plants' containment pods. Although there should be no functional difference between this work and, for example, handling crates in the loading bay, Data finds that his mental processing speed is improved by a slight but statistically significant amount when in environments containing plant life.

The difference is minor enough to be irrelevant to his overall performance, but when possible, he explores the preference. He brings the small cutting tool to the edge of another wilting leaf and begins to hum, a composition of his own based on the theoretical resonant structure described in Vulcan botany textbooks intended to encourage plant growth. That it has a quality that can only be describing as 'cheery' is an unintended secondary effect.

Wildcard/OOC

[Go ahead with another prompt if you'd like, permissions and contact here. Please bear with me working this character out!]

4a

[learnedfool]

"What weather?" Penric asked. Coming from a society that had just about mastered the printing press and being thrown into a society so far beyond his that he had been checking out children's Lady-school textbooks from the library to understand, meant that he had no words for the act of travelling through something above the skies.

Of course, now he was about to get a new shock, as Desdemona yanked on his attention to show him how she saw the questioner. Des's Sight could reveal hidden physical issues of use to the physician. Of course, when confronted by something clearly of equivalent complexity to 'being alive', but utterly alien in its nature meant Pen was a bit distracted trying to figure out what he was actually looking at.

Also staring. To the point where even Data might pick up that typical social interactions had gone awry.

John Carter | ER | Warden

[setthetone]

i. welcome aboard

[Is he sure about this? No. Will he give it his best shot? Absolutely.

When they ask him to help out and get other inmates from their – what to call it? point of no return? – he's willing to lend a hand. It's strange, though, knowing what he's about to do. It reminds him of – who was that Greek ferryman again that helped people cross over? Styx? No, that was the river, right? Either way, Carter wonders if maybe that guy had started out like this, too. Confused, a little overwhelmed, determined but nervous, knowing he's about to meet someone in or after their most vulnerable and violent moment.

He wonders. How many of his patients would have taken him up on the offer? How many of his patients would he have made the offer to? Offering a way out, a second chance...

He steps out of the Arvo, taking a look around and pondering the implications and morality of it all.

What if they say no? Did he fail then? If he can't convince them to go with him, was he in a way responsible for their death, if just a little?]


ii. pairing

Hi.

[It's friendly, approachable. So is he; or at least that's the energy he's going for. Except he doesn't quite know what to do with his hands. Should he start a chart? It feels like he should start a chart.]

I'm Dr. Carter, what seems to be the problem?

[Okay, that worked better a) in his head and b) at an actual hospital so he frowns, clears his throat, rephrases.]

I mean, what is it that... that you're supposed to be working on?


iii. invasive species

[Here's the thing with being a normal human from a normal world in the early Y2K world. That tetacocien? Is a 500000/10 on the nope scale.

Yes, he has an energy weapon. No, he is not about to play Captain Future. What is he, insane? There has to be security on the ship, right? That's what you did in the normal world when you were a normal person who was not a solider or police officer. You called security. Carter thinks that should count double if you faced of with an actual space monster from space hell.

He learns a few things today.

Getting chased by that thing? Not fun.

Space adventures? Totally overrated.

Sleeping soundly for the foreseeable future? Highly unlikely.

Carter rounds a corner, his face sweaty and red, sealing doors shut behind him as he runs, hoping he has brought enough distance between himself and that... thing for now. When he wheels around from the panel and bumps into another person he brings his hands up, trying to usher them away from the door and in the same direction he's taking.]

Oh you do not want to be here!


iv. network - cw: mentions of drugs and drug abuse

un: carter

Are there support groups in this place?
For problems that might affect several inmates like substance abuse.
I know there is probably going to be a lot of 1 on 1 to this but I was wondering about meetings where you can share, that sort of thing.

[He's asking for a friend, really.]


v. wildcard

[anything goes – hit me up!]

i. cw: gunshot wounds, murder, hand crush injury, violent death, mention of family death

[cuttypie]

[He's on a rooftop.

He's on a rooftop and there are sirens, and he can hear Abby's screams.

Some odd, strange, detached part of himself wonders at this, being on the other side of this. He's been through this once before, except this time, he is not the survivor.

But everything else hurts.

Not just physically. He's lying there, two bullet holes though his heart, and he knows exactly what is happening to his body. Which systems are shutting down, what is happening to his brain, what his heart is doing.

Right now it's not doing anything. He figures he has a couple more seconds of meaningful consciousness next.

And all he can do is cry out in his mind.

Abby. Joe.

Joe will grow up without him, and Abby will be without him. And he wishes, wishes so bad that this was not happening. That he was able to survive this.

He's not going to survive this.

Something is wet on his face and it's not blood.]

Agrias Oaks | Final Fantasy Tactics | Warden

[cleansingstrike]

[1. Welcome Aboard!]
[The explanation is... astounding, to say the least, yet Agrias does not doubt her instructions or the briefing she'd received. As traveled as she was, there was no way she could've prepared for this. Still, she had agreed to the terms and found herself in her current situation. Her immediate objective was simple:

Retrieving a particular "inmate" and prevent their demise.

A task more suited for a knight, she felt.

She finds them and explains as best as she can, offering her gloved hand in hopes that they will join her.]

'Tis an amazing set of circumstances we find ourselves in, and I admit that I am not without reservations.

Yet I assure you that mine words are true.

A second opportunity by itself is truly a precious gift.


[2. Lights Out]
[And wouldn't you know it, Agrias is one of those unfortunate enough to be stuck within this "elevator" as the power goes out. She slams her fist against the controls a few times, but it remains a futile gesture.]

Damn!

[Her frustration stems from wanting to help keep the peace and provide aid. Not stuck inside the contraption.]

For such a convenient device, its reliability leaves much to be desired.

[A sigh.]

Must we simply remain idle? I'm not fond of such...


[3. The Peregrine]
[Though Agrias is a holy knight and a paragon of justice, she makes no secret of how her views have shifted during her travels. Whichever role had been appointed to her, whether by royalty or in this case, a being from another world, Agrias would always serve her country and its people first.

Wouldn't that be the same, here?]

Hold there!

[She catches an inmate, quite clearly not where they are supposed to be.]

Your reach extends where it does not belong, and I would have you explain to me why.

[Her words are stern, and her figure imposing as she remains in full armor. Yet the fact that she wants to talk first instead of immediately apprehend them... Surely that's a good sign?]


[Wildcard]
[Hit me up and I'll reply in kind!]

The Peregrine, in the storage facility

[rank1]

[Travis has been trying to get into this storage crate marked Hazardous Materials: Class 4 Lasers for over an hour. He has made minimal progress, as his only tool is a pilfered table leg bent like a makeshift crowbar. It is not a useful crowbar, as it is far more inclined to bend than pry shit. He might as well have been trying to get in with a spoon.

He is, understandably, already frustrated when this warden comes up on him.

Travis being Travis, he scoffs under his breath and straightens up. He thinks it makes him look cool to do this slowly: back still to her, shoulders taut, one hand still curled around the table leg. He turns his head and the dim orange lights of the storage facility's transport bots flicker off the surface of his aviators. His eyes narrowed behind them.

Travis is surprised to find someone who looks like she's out of Arthurian legend but like, a total babe at the same time.

But she's still a fucking warden.

He sounds pissed off.]

You want an explanation? What does it look like? [He gestures with the table leg, then points it at her.] You assholes took my katana. I want it back.

claire fraser | outlander | warden

[nineteenfortyfive]

II. PAIRINGS

[Whether temp or permanent, Claire wastes no time in tracking down her inmate. She's not one to put things off. She's also not especially patient, so she'd rather get awkward introductions done and over with.

And now here you are, face to face. She at least puts on a kind smile.]

We should get to know one another.

[It's an invitation to talk.]


III-A. LIGHTS OUT

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

[The woman that'd only given a polite smile upon entering the elevator is very loud when the lights shut off and the thing comes to a halt.]

Did this bloody thing just lose power?

[As someone with a passing interest in space travel and sci-fi, the prospect of this place losing all power sends her gut plummeting to the soles of her feet. Seems like it's not an ideal situation. But panic won't do anything, so Claire decides to see if her newfound companion is all right. And if they'll be of any help, be it getting out of here or company for the wait.]

Are you okay?


VII. WILDCARD

[The sky is the limit! For TDM purposes feel free to assume she's your new warden. Down for mashing up prompts together, too.]

B) lights out babyyyy

[hiddenblade]

[The smile that tugs at Ezio's mouth when he hears her curse in the dark is as instinctive as the way he adjusts his balance with the short stop.

He supposes they're lucky that gravity persists, even if the lights and engines do not. So too is he lucky that his clumsiness with technology is balanced out by his familiarity with beautiful (and seemingly foul-tempered) women: he'd take good company over gravity any day.

He looks for her in the dark.]

I am fine, buona signora. And you?

Shadow the EDGEhog | Sonic games | Warden

[chaoscontrol]

Welcome Aboard

[Limbo is an interesting place. Time seems to have stopped completely, and the world exists only in muted shades and grey. Maybe there’s objects around, maybe even frozen people, or perhaps it’s just a void. But there is one other fully colored creature in this place — a three foot tall black and red creature dressed in a futuristic uniform.

Ok so maybe limbo is way weirder than anyone actually knew. Is this real? No, this has to be some kind of incredibly stupid dream.

The spiky…. cat…. person??? approaches and clears his throat]

I am here on behalf of the Navarch and the Admiralty's Transformative and Penal Reparation Fleet. I am to offer you the choice between redemption and the void.

Make your choice quickly, I don’t have all day.

[alternatively, your ass is unconscious and tied up in the back of a strange space ship. KIDNAPPED!!!]

Elevator Issues

[Shadow doesn’t need to use the elevators to get around — he’s more than capable of teleporting wherever he needs to go on the ship, even as it careens through space. But other Wardens and inmates are not so lucky. So here he is, in the elevator, looking like he’s about to die of boredom.

And then there’s a pop. The lights go out, the elevator jerks to a halt, and the sound of electric equipment everywhere spins down]

... I hate this ship. Everyone, stay where you are.

Wildcard

[Shadow is a stern, stubborn Warden of few words who doesn’t suffer fools lightly. He is also all of a meter tall and kind of adorable.

Elevator

[shiftedshape]

It would seem that is our main option, yes.

[Loki conjures some light around his hand, peering across the elevator at Shadow. Gravity is lighter here than on most areas of the ship and Loki does his best not to look like a clumsy idiot as he moves to inspect the walls and ceiling of the elevator.]

Though I suppose if we can find a vent, you might just fit through. Although I'm not sure what good that would do the rest of us.

Connor -52 | Detroit: Become Human | Inmate

[lickstheevidence]

⭕ ARRIVAL:

[Markus had killed it. Connor had refused to listen to the corrupted ramblings of a defective machine and had been killed for it, shot point-blank in the forehead after a short struggle for Connor's gun. It hadn't expected the deviant to get the upper hand, but it was an RK model just as Connor was, designed and built by Elijah Kamski himself. Maybe it wasn't so surprising after all. What was surprising was when Connor didn't wake up in a new body in one of Cyberlife's sterile, pristine white labs, but instead found itself in a new body in a non-descript room, with someone it's never seen before. It knows this person isn't a Cyberlife employee; Connor has a record of any it's likely to encounter on file and this person isn't one of them. It's voice is demanding, maybe even threatening as it sits up, reaching for the gun it no longer has.]

Who are you?

⭕ LIGHTS OUT:

[Connor can see as easily in the dark as in full daylight. It doesn't take long for it to realize the opportunity the power outage presents, and it gets to work making its way stealthily through the hallways, committing everything to memory in order to get a rough map of the ship it's on. Surely there's an armory? The obtainment of powerful weapons is Connor's goal; secondarily to that the information center- is Archimedes affected by the outage -will be most useful. In the meantime, it's scanning the rooms it approaches, on the chance luck will be on its side and it will find other items that might be of use, maybe even some small firearms it can tuck securely into its waistband. While Connor will be attempting to avoid everyone just in case, even an advanced investigative android can have an off day, especially when it's concentrating on its self-appointed mission by murmuring to itself.]

I've already been down this corridor, but I haven't gone down this offshoot yet. It's probably a lot like the others I have searched, but in the interest of being thorough...

⭕ TRUTH BOMB:

[Connor has no reason to lie and no compunction to tell the truth about any given thing on any given day. Whatever will best suit the mission it's been assigned will also determine the veracity of any answer it may give. That's why it's disconcerting to the point of causing software instabilities that most of its conversations so far this day have resulted in the unmitigated truth, even to questions such as "how are you?" or "does this outfit make me look fat?" ...Okay, no one asked it the second question, but the point was that it was telling the truth to even stupid, simple questions. Connor resolved to keep its mouth shut until this strange phenomenon corrected itself.]

⭕ WILDCARD:

[Connor is a machine with "it" pronouns, and it's ~frustrated that it failed its mission so it doesn't have the best attitude. Go on, make it more frustrated!]

Arrival!

[dog_eat_dog]

Tess.

[And on top of being a total stranger to his databases, Tess could never pass for someone who belongs anywhere close to anything pristine or sterile. Her clothes are very lived in, her hair messily pulled back, her face flecked with scars. No technician, no tech whiz. She leans against a wall she considers a safe distance away, her thumbs hooked into her pockets. She speaks bluntly:]

And don't bother looking for the gun. We disarm all the inmates when we bring them in.

Circe | Madeline Miller | Inmate

[pharmaka]

I. lights out
Circe is, in fact, stuck in an elevator with someone when the power goes down. She had previously been ignoring her companion with distinct aloofness. Now that it's her third time in an elevator she has gotten over the novelty, but she's still in her handspun and dirt-stained peplos, so she's by no means settled in. Visually, she's not only out of the ancient world but also infeasibly beautiful -- which by divine standards marks her as a rather pathetic nymph.

Until the lights go out, and her amber-gold eyes take on a very subtle glow. Her power may be stripped from her, but a daughter of the sun may always see in the dark.

"Don't tell me," she drawls, "we are to be entombed here."

II. pairing
It is in every fiber of her to demand to know what she must do to earn this warden's favor so she can be restored to her power. But it cannot be so simple as asking, she cannot believe that. Detestable as it is to think it, her sister was right about one thing: she would be a fool to show her desperation. And Circe has been a fool many times, but no longer.

"What is it that you wish of me?" she asks coolly, without the demand attached. It would also not benefit her to be uncooperative. She must strike a careful balance, she reasons: untouchable but compliant.

III. greenhouse
After a very rocky first couple days, Circe had been immensely relieved to learn there was something called a greenhouse, a word that seemed to innately carry with it an intimation of plant life. Perhaps, even if they had taken away her divinity, her witchcraft would remain. Mortals could be witches, after all -- and then she would not be helpless.

Of course, it's also true that she just likes gardening, but Circe cannot afford to pay attention to her own comfort just yet.

When she finally arrives at the greenhouse, she is utterly and completely disappointed. She looks around at all the glass and metal -- more metal! -- gobsmacked. For some reason, of all the radical changes in her surroundings, this is the one that is a step too far.

"Where is the dirt?" she asks in open despair, breaking character despite herself.

III. Greenhouse

[lessandmorethanhuman]

"Probably in the little glass domes?" Alex was taking stock of where he could and could not go, and had finally hit the greenhouse. "Hmm, it's not some really advanced hydroponics system, or all of the plants would be open to the air." Which didn't rule out the possibility of it all being super fancy. Sci-fi come to life.

Moving to look more closely at the chambers.

"Nope, no dirt here. They're likely using some fancy futuristic nutrient substitute." That was interesting; why NOT use dirt?

Chloe | Detroit: Become Human | Warden

[neverwither]

⭕ HELLO NEW FRIEND

Given their designation as inmate, Chloe should probably be more apprehensive about the stranger she's been paired with. Only she's all polite smiles for her new charge, more akin to them being thrown together at an ice cream social and not a transformative and penal reparation ship. Her own logic dictates that there's little sense in making herself seem unapproachable or overly authoritative. No, she's much more about trying to foster relations.

The way the circular LED at her temple spins and flickers yellow might suggest she might be just a tiny bit nervous but really, who would know for sure?

"I hope I can be useful to you during our time together. And I suppose it could be helpful to get to know each other a little?" she ventures. A spot of small talk can't hurt, right?

⭕ NO LIGHT NO LIGHT

Optical units attuning to the darkness, Chloe is patrolling for any signs of others who may not be faring so well. She's less concerned with inmates taking advantage of the blanket of darkness to do... whatever inmates see fit to do when they could potentially get away with it and more so with if anyone's injured themselves or just plain rattled. She won't exactly be thrilled to stumble across nefarious deeds, but it's a mission of mercy rather than ratting out troublemakers.

"Are you alright?" she calls out as she spies a figure fumbling around. "If you wait a moment, I can guide you to somewhere safe to wait until the power is restored." Because there's absolutely bound to be somewhere safe during the perfect reason to run riot and the locks aren't working.

⭕ BOMBS AWAY

Generally speaking, Chloe isn't a terrific liar, anyway. Good at concealing what needs to be concealed, perhaps, but not outright untruths. She just knows how to guard a secret and guard it well. Of course, Chloe isn't usually asked about the secrets she keeps so there's no reason to lie out of necessity.

The reactions of those around her serve as a tip-off as to the fact no one seems able to stop themselves saying the things they'd much rather keep to themselves. Or randomly blurting the sorts of thoughts one should really keep to oneself.

Maybe you're a victim of said blurting. Maybe you look like you're desperately trying to keep it all in. Either way, Chloe has a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I won't repeat anything." A beat. "Unless it's something that would interfere with or compromise what's being done here. In that case, I would have to do something, of course."

Oh. That'd be some brand of her truth right there.

⭕ WILDCARD

[ Want to do a thing? Let's do a thing! ]

new friend.

[blowup]

Jinx is sprawled out on a mess hall tabletop like a big cat playing with small toys. The material they use to make utensils in this place is so soft, how can she sharpen it into an edge? What a crock...

She looks up at the woman who's supposed to be helping her. Jinx has mostly ignored the lady, or blew her off. Of course, now, she's cornered.

She keeps trying to sharpen the handle into a shiv, all while she talks to the woman in charge of not letting her do that. She wonders if she'll notice.

"Youuuu first," Jinx says. "Tell me about whatever topside stuff you got up to. I bet it's fascinating."

jack / mass effect / inmate

[n0ught]

LIGHTS OUT.

[Without her biotics, Jack feels weird and vulnerable and on edge, but at least this is something comfortable, something she knows: the perfect opportunity for a jail break. Hell yes.

She has to get to Warden Command in order to make her way to the armory, but the place will obviously be crawling with Wardens. So she'll have to start a diversion and hope she can slip away.

If she sees someone who is obviously a Warden, she'll flag them down:] Thank god. Where the hell are you people? This is batshit.

[And, if she finds someone who is obviously an Inmate, she'll grab them by the collar and yank them around a corner.] Listen up, fish. We're getting out of here.

STUCK TOGETHER.

[This is awful. Terrible. There is no bright side to this at all. Jack's "buddy" is the worst person alive and she wants to rip them apart with her bare hands.

She ducks behind a door and slams it shut.]

I said fuck. Off.

[She knows they're not following her around on purpose. It doesn't matter. She can't be mad at intangible space magic, so she's going to be mad at the nearest person, who is conveniently always at most two meters away.]

I can't help but notice you're not fucking off!

NETWORK.

[After trying a number of more colorful options, all of which were rejected by the filter, Jack is stuck with a very boring username. She's pissed.]

@Jack
What's the fucking point of this? Are we going to schedule a tea party? Leave scathing reviews about the shitty food? You can't even get on the Extranet.

lights out.

[blowup]

[Jinx, who is obviously an inmate because she was pick pocketing an unconscious (dead? Maybe dead?) body, is caught unawares for maybe the first time in years. She makes a squeaky squeal and begins to wriggle, before her assailants words distract her into laughter.]

Fish? Who's a fish?

Laurie Blake - Watchmen (HBO) - Warden

[playdevo]

Lights Out, or, Just a Gal and an Owl // OTA

Of course there has to be a fucking AI owl. Why would there not be a fucking AI owl.

Laurie is almost glad to see him—-robotic little shit—-no, scratch that, Laurie is glad to see him. Full stop. Glad to see him. Nice to see an owl. Never not nice to see an owl.

Shit’s weird around here but shit’s weird everywhere and all things Weird stopped fazing her a long time ago.

…But she damn near jumps a foot off the ground when the owl literally comes to life, moving with all the finesse of a Disney-level animatronic. (Not that Laurie Blake has ever been to Disneyland. Not that Laurie Blake would ever admit that she has ever been to Disneyland.)

“Holy fuck!”

Archimedes doesn’t seem to mind her French. He’s just begun his *Salutations—-* when the lights go out. Pitch black, dead silence; the terminal seemingly empty save for a former vigilante and an owl frozen mid-speech.

Power outage. In space. Cool.

Laurie sighs, looking in the owl’s direction like he’s going to talk right back when she says, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”


Pairings, or, Sucks to be You, Inmate! // Inmates

Your warden is an FBI agent, which is fun for her and sucks for you. Laurie does her research, but if you’re paying attention you’ll probably notice she’s also following you. Not like right-at-your-heels-up-your-ass following you because that’s obvious—-maybe just casually, you know, in the same places as you at all times. Keeping a respectful distance. Staying as inconspicuous as she can while also being herself—-tall for a human lady, with red hair and a resting *don’t fuck with me* face. You’re fully allowed to call her out on it, if you’ve noticed. May as well, before she calls you out first.


Wildcard me! (but be gentle I haven't done this in a hot minute)
feel free to come plot on plurk if you wish! designatedcrone

lights out.

[blowup]

Darkness means a lot of things to Jinx. Despite the steel-toed boots she wears, her tread is almost totally silent. She can't really see-- her eyes haven't adjusted to the no fucking light in here right now-- but she thinks she's memorized the space well enough to get close and subtly-

Nope. Ow. She just walked into the fucking lady.

"Shit."

But she doesn't apologize.