flawedmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME

→ in the big city

[ There's a celebration in town today, with an archery competition. Nyssa is in her black League uniform, with red accents on the sleeves and shoulders. Her compound bow is hidden in her clothes as are her daggers, and instead, she is hovering near the table where the bows have been provided. One round with recurve, the other with longbow, for fairness. Her fingers brush the fine wood. ]

[ Brightly, to you, ]

I hope you are prepared to lose.

→ in the forest

[ Hunting alone is not rare; she goes for creatures and bandits. Farmers are charged in food and shelter, those in the city can give coin. The name of al Ghul means nothing here. Creature comforts are missed (instant noodles, what an odd craving), but freedom is exhilarating. She eats, sleeps under the stars, and hunts what she wishes, works for her own keep. ]

[ It so happens you both are on the same path, one not oft-travelled. She appears out of the trees, like a shadow. ]

What business do you have here?

→ wildcard it up

[ run into Nyssa at the market, at an armoury examining knives, bring it. ]

01. Arrival

The first thing Charles notices is the smell. The smell of dirt, and earth, completely different from what he's used to, the sand and heat and rotting smells of Nassau. Here, wherever he is, it smells...clean, and it's cold, despite the sun, high up in the sky.

Standing up with his face tilted up to the sky, Charles determines that it's close to noon. Quickly, he makes the stream a few yards away, and notes the direction of its flow. A forest, a scarred mountain, a stream.

Charles will always follow the water. He can see other people around him, other people that seem just as disoriented as he is. He grunts to himself, scanning the group of people; none of them come from Nassau, even less part of his crew.

Wherever he is, he doesn't care. Only thing he cares about is finding a way back, and that usually takes a ship. And he can't really man a ship by himself.

Sighing to himself, he digs in his pockets for a half-smoked cigar, and stick it between his teeth as he makes his decision. He needs some crewmen. "Whoever wants to go home via sail, come along. I'm getting a ship."

---

02. Eveka

Charles runs his fingers over the grainy wood of the tavern table he's sitting at, contemplating his almost finished tankard of ale with a frown. He's been in Eveka for a few weeks now, seeking a town that felt like home and settling here, amongst the smugglers and the thieves, blending in as good as he could. He's found a few odd jobs, here and there, but nothing like a prize, and nothing close to getting himself a ship, which - well, overall, is not only depressing, it's also getting increasingly boring. He wants to be back on the water; he wants his crew back, and he wants The Ranger back.

But while none of this is happening, his odd jobs have kept him in shelter, food and ale, but funds are running low once again. He's been trying to find a way to the islands from which he knows some pirates operate - at least to survey the operation, if not find better fortune there, but getting there will cost him money, money he doesn't have right now.

He scans the room, and whistles sharply, garnering attention. "Looking for somewhere where I can make a quick buck. Any ideas?"

--

03. Wildcard

The ship has been sailing for three days, and Charles has not felt this good in weeks. He stands at the quarterdeck, head tilted to the sun as wind blows through his hair, the splash of the ocean drizzling regularly as they cross waves, headed to Byrint Bay.

Of course, this ship is legit, and Charles is captaining it only on merit - the real captain suffering from unfortunate broken legs, stuck in his quarters for the remainder of the journey. But he's at the head of a crew again, and much can happen from that point forward.

Before he commandeers the ship, though - there's a part of Charles that feels like he has to deliver its passengers safe to Sunvault - the whole point of the journey. They paid his and his crew's wages, and even if most say there's no honor among thieves - they'd be wrong. They have a crew of 25 and a total of 15 passengers, and Charles Vane will see them to their destination before attempting to turn the crew, and keep the ship.

"You shouldn't do that," he tells one of his passengers then, seeing them lean over the rail. "It only takes a stronger gust of wind, and," Charles clicks and waves his fingers, smirking. "We wouldn't want that."

Edited 2016-07-04 15:08 (UTC)

shopping;

[ Blending into surroundings is something Alysia does not need instruction in. She walks the streets of Sunvault with no impediment, looking like a servant girl in the market or perhaps the daughter of a worker. Whatever their assumptions, it matters little. She has work to do. Alysia has been taken from her home and from her mission, her revenge, and Gods be damned if she will let that stand.

But first, she needs supplies.

Alysia can be found at various shops that sell herbs, tinctures, and tonics, perhaps an alchemist's tent or two. The herbs she looks for range from the innocuous to the deadliest in her search for anything that can be turned into sleeping draughts or deadly poisons.

Don't be surprised if she's critical of anyone else looking for herbs, giving them a skeptical eye. ]

If you're looking for something to ease pain, I would try the Valerian root. What you have there is too strong.

the streets - evening;

[ Killing and potion brewing aren't the only talents she has. Born to a bard's life of secrets and decorum, she has also been trained in song and instrument both. It has not brought her joy in what feels like forever - since she lost her position, since the bounty has been placed on her head - and playing it now feels...wrong. It's as if someone else is playing. But the tavern allows her to play for a little bit of coin (provided she give the owners a cut of her share, and play she does. Some songs are joyful and others are not, some accompanied with her voice or merely with humming.

By the end of the night, she has enough coin in donations to obtain some travel clothes, perhaps a dress nice enough to pass for a lady of standing, and for supplies.

That is, until the owners try to stiff her. ]

We agreed upon twenty percent, not fifty. Your harp is yours and I mean not to take it.

[ But there are murmurs that she is one of Them, one of these newcomers that seem to have some on edge. Her rising fury only seems to make people ill at ease. The owner insists that she's bound to bring trouble and fifty percent, at least, will keep them protected.

A wise woman might not argue, not with so many watching. She reigns in her temper long enough to haggle for forty (and sweetly, through a facade of gentility), take her earnings, and leave out the door.

That doesn't stop a guard or two from following her.

Warn her? Help her? Or follow at a safe distance? ]

wildcard;

[ Anything and EVERYTHING else! Info HERE if you need - sorry for the bare bones. ]

Edited 2016-07-04 16:02 (UTC)

[let's do this.]

01
[A three-foot-tall white dove is raising his head high and turning it from side to side, carefully. Yuuya's coming off as alert, confident, and interested. Nothing bad going on in that fist-sized skull, nope. Ignore the dramatic patch of blood marring the feathers to one side of his chest.]

Hmm. I certainly don't hear any machinery, and that isn't any topography I recognize. I do believe I can get some height and report back here, whether or not anyone stays together or, for that matter, here.

02
[Yuuya perches on a crate and observes a thronging marketplace with bright black eyes. Catch his eye and he'll speak up cheerfully.]

What a comingling of species! Fantastic. Almost gives me hope for Earth.

Edited 2016-07-04 20:16 (UTC)

{city}

The food was so strange everywhere he went on this world. Durotan was not shy about trying new things, once he had convinced himself all of this was real and not some strange drunken dream due to bad ale. For the past week he had been trying something new for every meal and this midday meal was no different in that regard. It was utterly different compared to anything he'd had before though.

It was something made with eggs but the eggs were tiny, from something called chicken. The rylak eggs he was used to were easily the size of his head which, according to his mate, was very fat. Durotan watched the street vendor add in several eggs, some vegetables he had no name for whatsoever, and some spices that smelled hot and interesting. Once the dish was prepared he took the small plate in one giant hand and sniffed more carefully at it.

Durotan had come to realize he adored spicy food. Most of the meats he'd eaten all his life were very gamey with little more than salt ground themselves from local rock deposits. Sure enough the spicy food hit his palette after a few seconds of being shoveled into his mouth, so much so that his eyes watered, and he made a happy grunt at the flavor. As he took another bite he glanced over to spy what the person next to him was eating, wondering if it was good as well.

{wildcard}

He never saw the bloodcat coming. The large feline had blended in perfectly with the surrounding forest, and Durotan had been so lost in thought enjoying the sights and fresh smells of the trees and plants that he had been extremely careless. There was such a thing as paying no attention at all to your surroundings while enjoying their aesthetic.

It was a child's mistake and that is what Durotan felt like as he felt the heavy body collide with his own. Razor sharp claws raked down his arm and he roared with pain. Durotan managed to shove the cat off and he roared, showing off his large tusks, before he charged the cat with equal ferocity to the beast.

Edited 2016-07-04 20:35 (UTC)

➴ａｒｒｉｖａｌ➴

Let us journey southwards..
taking the road that I followed..
on my way hither.

Boromir stirred with a heavy ache from his skin to his very bones, it was enough to where all he could do was lay and wait for the water to over take him –– or the ground to swallow him hole. Soon the echoing draw of water calmed and his ears focused on the sounds of chaffing leather and scuffing boots. Then came the breath of others about him, the tones of their voices, and an accent he could not understand.

His eyes were heavy and they closed without much concern of his will were it any different. It could have been days for all he knew but the next time he opened his eyes a distinct and sharp pain and him jerking his body upon the hard ground and he curled into himself with a groan before he turned into the dirt and held his chest with a gasping disdain and shove of his feet to the ground. A sudden memory had him jerk his head up and his eyes searched longingly and desperate while he worked on gathering himself up from the ground––

"Meer.." His voice was dry and rasp, his tongue rough and his pale lips tried again, "Pip..." He stuttered and gripped the dirt with his hands as he looked with worried eyes toward the line of trees.

➴ｃｉｔｙ ; ｗｈｉｔｅｈａｌｌ➴
There wasn’t any feeling he’s experienced before quite like the one he was having now. Though he could label it appropriately as displaced he couldn’t quite find comfort in the acknowledgment of it. However, as the days turned over into nights and collected into weeks he still found himself spiraling down with that displaced feeling as if he could feel himself tripping forward and in terror of the ground before him opening up to bury him into true non-existence.

Whether or not he found those that knew him (which he hadn’t come across one) he still existed here but were he to turn into the earth who then would know of his existence (if not himself!)—would this world keep his rot or would this world return him to the ground he perished on before rousing on this world’s very earth? He is displaced in body, mind, and spirit but what does call to him is Whitehall. Grand and beautiful, strong and graceful, but not like his own White City— this white city is built with unfamiliar hands and protected by unfamiliar steel.

Could he be here for his life was so engulfed with the battle he’d come to continue his calling for another city that would be his own? But, would she have him? Would Whitehall acknowledge him as her soldier?

Would he exist enough here that the threat of death would become real again to him?

Edited 2016-07-04 22:03 (UTC)

Arrival

As she retrieves her staff, Inessa brushes off any stray grass from her armor and peers around, calm even in her confusion. Her small stature doesn't make seeing past the tall grass easy, but she'll do her best to navigate past it, following the sound of water. That immediate goal gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, recalling that sudden rift, brimming with energy. She hadn't seen anything like it before, and by now the Warden-Commander had thought herself incapable of being fazed. Evidently, something was dead-set on proving her wrong.

Hearing barking up ahead, Inessa smiles for the first time since awakening, quickening her pace. Her faithful mabari has arrived with her, to her vast relief. Whatever there is to be faced in this unknown area of the world, at least it will be together.

"Garahel! What have you found, boy?"

Camping, somewhere in Czilea

It's just past sunset and the small campfire is crackling away, giving Inessa's fingertips some needed warmth and more importantly, her tea. While waiting for the kettle to heat, she's having a little fun with her war hound, playing fetch with a sturdy stick found at their impromptu campsite. Hardly a quality toy, and yet the mabari doesn't seem to care. Despite his imposing musculature and war paint, at the moment he's more of a giant puppy than anything else.

At some point, his happy barks shift tone to alert her of an approach, and the elven woman reaches for her staff. Perhaps it's nothing, but she'd rather be prepared, just in case. Experience has caught her that she can never be too careful, and in an unfamiliar land, doubly so. She straightens to her full height, which is far from impressive, but hopes using her Warden-Commander voice makes up for it. "Who approaches?"

[Or, wildcard me! I'll change formats if need be.]

Edited 2016-07-05 00:23 (UTC)

Arrival

[Yennefer's arrival is not as graceful as the lady may want it to be. Laying flat on the ground she blinks and stares up at the sky. It's not the same. The climate is different. She quickly pushes herself to her feet and dusts herself off. Priding herself on appearance she attempts to brush leaves and a few twigs out of her hair.] What a mess.

[She straightens up and surveys the area. No, not at all where she had been before.She waves a hand and attempts to conjure a portal back to her home. When that fails alarm briefly crosses her face.] What the-

[Instead of a portal this time sparks fly around her hands. Sorry nearby folk she's not pleased over whatever decided she can't portal her way home.]

Cities

[She wasn't settling in as well as one might think. On the surface she's behaving as normal. Going tooth and nail over bargains with merchants because she refuses to give into inflation or their ideas of a "deal". Despite Yennefer's frustration with the market setup it's where she's almost always found. At the moment she's attempting to sort through various perfumes she's spotted. Each time she lifts the bottle and doesn't even bother spraying it. Whatever scent she was looking for she knew it either too well or was simply wasting the poor merchants time.]

To what extent must they deprive a person of simple necessaries. [A sigh.] I suppose civilized society itself will have to do.

Forest

[Finally even though she prefers the comfort of society she slips away into the woods. She moves as quietly as she can. As a magician she's not near as quiet as though who practice to watch their steps but she's not lacking in effort. A gateway. A collection of magic. She was certain it must exist somewhere and no doubt it was going to be hidden away. Perhaps an entrance locked away in a forest under the guide of a simple collection of boulders or a tree. She comes to a stop once she's a fair distance in and waves one glowing hand attempting to dispel any magic around her.

To her disappointment nothing around her changes.] Dammit. [She curses under her breath. There had to be something. She goes to the nearest tree and props herself up against it. Idly she creates a faint ball of light and moves it around in front of her with the slightest wave of her finger.]

A poor time to be lacking in scholars to speak to.

wildcard

[For running into Yennefer anywhere else. Taverns, riding horse, attempting to cast some overly complicated spell, ect.]

Arrival;

[One could not put into accurate words the feeling a dead person got from waking up. He did not sleep or breath which made the sensation somewhat discouraging as he rose up, jumping to his feet in a panic. He appeared a pale human with black hair and dark clothes. Resting against his forehead, a rune pulsed slowly while a dark grey shroud licked at his heels where he stood.]

No...

[The first fear he had was that he had somehow passed on. No longer wandering the world as a spirit. Fear gripped him as he started to shake with panic and look around for some sign that he was still on the mortal plane.]

Is... Is this heaven? Or the afterlife?

[If those around him couldn't see or hear him. He would feel a bit more at ease.]

City;

[Following another panic at encountering a room full of people that could see AND hear him, Bastjin took off and hid his presence to calm himself without interruption. He decided to wait until the evening where there would be less crowds.

As the sun set, he started down the streets, looking around and watching the few figures that were wandering around at night from a safe distance. Occasionally he would get close to see if everyone here could still perceive him.]

It's a bit late to be wandering around isn't it?

[Yes, a normal, non-threatening thing to say.]

Wildcard;

(ooc: Some context cause I'm useless. Bastjin was a sin-eater in life and has carried that task to undeath. He's not used to large numbers of people being able to see him and thus is a little off-put by all this. Magic weapons or silver weapons can harm him so go nuts! He's normally very social. Added some details.)

Edited 2016-07-05 00:33 (UTC)

Arrival

Harper had been sitting on the hill for a while now, contemplating the shape of the countryside. After so many years in the British army, he'd developed a certain knack for having no idea where he was. But without sign of any of his men or any officers to shout at him, he was at something of a loss. The others who were still lying about like so much corpses were not as unsettling as some might find it. Across the plains of Portugal and Spain, he'd seen far worse. So rather than go running about in a state of panic, he'd rested himself next to one of the unconscious ones, opened up one of his canteens, and began to enjoy what was supposed to be water, but rarely ever was.

"Don't you worry there," he said reassuringly to his comatose companion, "you'll be up soon and we'll have this whole bloody thing sorted out."

City

The city of Sunvault was stunning. He had seen more than a few different cities since he was enlisted, but most of them had been scarred and depopulated by war. It had been some time since he'd been able to walk about a city like this, which was what had made it all the greater of a shame to be here and unemployed. Ultimately it brought him to the docks, where any man with a strong back could find work if he was willing to sweat. It was guard work he'd hoped to find, but he was just as capable as anything else. So with his baker rifle slung across his shoulder, he navigated the dense crowds of people bustling along the street.

Only to stop when he caught a small boy having just run off with the contents of someone else's wallet. The boy received a solid thump along the head for it, was wrenched up by one shoulder, and escorted back to the owner of the money in question.

"If you'll be excusing us, the lad here has an apology he'd like to make, so he does. Would you care to take a listen to it?"

Arrival
[He came awake with a jerk of his body, an unfamiliar sound perking his senses and leaving him feeling on edge immediately. He didn't recall stopping for a rest, as he had risen just a few hours previous, and Ilai rarely took rests that soon. He pushes his legs beneath him quickly, hooves digging into the soft soil and he gathered himself, avoiding stepping on those who were nearest to him and hadn't yet awakened.

This wasn't the forest he had been traveling through. The stream was beautiful, but not the deep, rushing rapid he knew to be nearby the city he had been traveling toward. There we others here, but none he recognized. Some of them he had never even seen the like of. His tail whips behind him as his front left hoof stomps against the mud. He reaches up and pulls a twig from his hair that had caught itself in his braid. There was a flower on it, obviously from a nearby tree. He dropped it back to the ground, but took care not to step on it as he moved himself away from the group.]

What mystic wood have I stumbled upon? [It was the only explanation he thought possible. Enchantment was the only answer.]

Middlemarch
[The town was beautiful in its simplicity. It remind him more of home and small outlier villages that traded more frequently with his people as they were too far from the centers of their own Kingdoms. But after traveling for days across the beautiful, rolling plains, it was nice to find himself here. He hoped to gain some information about this place and how to find his way home.

If he found any others in the same predicament, he would look to find all he could from them. But first...

The building looked to be an inn, homely as it was. It would suit Ilai's purposes just fine. He ducked as he entered, but raised his head more once inside, hooves click-clacking against the wooden floor. Thankfully the ceiling was high enough he only had to keep his head a little stooped to avoid the rafters. He tries to keep his movements small and compact, but he might accidentally nudge someone's table or chair as he moves by towards the kitchen-bar. When that happens he stops and nods his head down, hand to his chest.]

My apologies.

ARRIVAL
[Pariya had been sucked through the tear between worlds. And so, it seemed, had the baked goods that she was working on at the time. She slowly pushes herself up from the ground into a sitting position, but seconds later she's greeted by a shower of Uzbek flatbread following her through the void.

They land on her head. THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD.]

Ow ow owwww...! Hey! What's the big idea?! [She seems to be shaking her fist at the sky...]

FOREST
[She can't live off bread forever. In search of something else to eat or trade other than bread, Pariya takes her bow and goes hunting. The problem? Well... she's not very good at it.

For starters, her clothes are brightly coloured, covered in rich, embroidered patterns from head to toe. She also wears a lot of jewellery-- it catches the light, it tinkles and chimes with her every movement. And if that weren't bad enough, Pariya also doesn't know how to move like a hunter. Despite her progress in lessons with the bow, she doesn't have a hunter's grace or patience. She lets out a colourful swearword as yet another animal hops away the second she draws her bow, before she can even fire a single shot.]

Oh, come on...!! Stupid animals... tch. I had that one.

OUTSIDE THE CITY
[As Pariya approaches the city for the first time, her eyes widen with awe and her mouth actually drops open. She's never seen anything so grand or magnificent in her entire life. She actually stops in her tracks.]

It's huge... [She murmurs it as if to herself-- but then she turns to whichever poor soul seems to be nearest and demands:]

H-Hey! Why is it so big?!

Empire - Inawall.

[ It's been a few days since arriving, and Olivia looks a little more... down than usual. Where usually she seems small in her shyness, she now seems small in her fear and anxiety. It looks as though both are wearing the poor girl thin. Maybe they are.

Still, she carries a sword on her hip and her sash catches in the breeze as she enters the city. ]

A-ah... excuse me. [ She tries to speak up. Despite trying to draw attention to herself, she seems more pressed to disappear into herself. ]

I'm sorry... I- [ Deep breaths. Draw yourself up, Olivia. ]

Do you know how to reach Ylisse from here? [ Someone's yet to realize she's not in the same world anymore. ]

Shousal - Redknell Keep

[ There's rumors of more like her to the north, and slowly Olivia makes her way back the way she came to find the others. But it's hard traveling alone for so long, and her skills as a swordsman only get so far. She does try her hardest, but still. It's no way for her to survive long-term.

So she stops in the nearest town, taking a deep breath as she tries to prepare herself.

This was foolish. What was she thinking?! This was a bad idea. She was going to humiliate herself. Everyone would be ashamed-

Yet the girl dances. She stands in a small corner of the square she's found. She's trying to both attract attention and keep it from her. Yet there's a small cloth laid out, and soon coins begin to collect as she moves to songs she sings herself. If there's no one to play, then she has to make the music, after all.

Once her dance is done, no one seems too displeased. Deciding not to push her luck, she collects her coins and quickly pushes out of the crowd before anyone can speak to her.

She moves so quickly she doesn't see the person she runs into- though her coins draw more attention than anything else as the fall and roll. ]

I'm sorry! [ She exclaims, bowing low. ] I wasn't paying attention, and-

[ She cuts off mid-sentence as she realizes people are watching and crouches down to the ground, not even looking at the person. ]

I'm apologize! [ Again. ] I'll leave now!

wildcard.

( in the forest, in another town, wherever! feel free to go wild )

Edited 2016-07-06 18:16 (UTC)

-- arrival

[Julia has a splitting headache, the debris of a broken park bench is littered around her. and this wasn't supposed to happen. She's supposed to be hunting down a way to Fillory, but Fillory doesn't snatch you up like this. There's always a door in a clock or a phone booth, a space between the bookshelves; it invites you.

Shakily rising to her feet, she surveys the land around her. Somewhere rural, with a cool breeze coming off the mountains. The soft babbling of a stream. And she's not alone. She looks at the other travelers, taking in the mix of outfits and faces and - does that one have hooves?

She turns to the closest person who seems both conscious and not completely shady.]

Uh, hi. So do you have...any idea where we are?

-- the empire (jilan)

[If you want to fade into a crowd, you go to the merchant city, where a hundred different kinds of people gather and it's easy to look like you belong. But Julia doesn't want to look like she belongs. It seems like the best opportunities in the Empire are only open to the exceptional.

So she's eschewed Jiaport for a smaller marketplace in Jilan, examining goods and prices, keeping an eye open for any work opportunities. She lingers at a bookseller, her eyes browsing over the different titles, looking for what will give her the most information about this new place.]

Excuse me. Do you have any books about the Citadel?

a. the forest

[It’s just like Dragoncide VII. Or so Jughead assumes, based on the amount of forest and lack of highways and fast food and also he totally saw a dragon flying above him earlier. At this point he knows he’s not dreaming, which leaves one logical conclusion: he has been sucked into this video game world. He has to play through the game in order to escape. The only wait out… is in.

Too bad he’s not equipped to do anything. No sword means he can’t rely on his usual strategy of cutting down all who stand against him! Which means it’s time to go on a fetch quest. Jughead’s wandering the forest, examining each and every plant he walks past.]

Not even one weed of Mel-Von? Not even a single spookleberry? C’mon!

b. the city

[When he gets to a city the first thing he does is make his way to an inn and tavern. The second thing he does is get into an argument with the innkeeper-slash-bartender.]

It’s called a burger! Burger. You take the meat, right, put some bread around it— you know what, just let me do it. It’ll be a hit!

[The innkeeper is not convinced.]

[ Arrival ]

[ Everything hurt. Which is not a new sensation to Loki, considering . . . well, his life. His fall. But usually, he knew the reason behind the hurts. This was unexpected. Appreciated, but unexpected. He hopes there's no one to thank for his new location. He hated to be in anyone's debt.

People. Loki sniffs the air. There's a tang of magic in the breeze. He brushes his hair back slickly. Yes, his body hurt. His arms sting. But he can still keep up appearances.

Fixing his most congenial grin, he saunters by. ]

Greetings. I don't suppose you fine folk would have a map or information to spare?

[ Houndholt ]

[ It felt like a piece of Asgard had cut itself from the golden star and found a home here. Houndholt, a village full to the brim of boastful adventurers and sneering mages. Ale and mead are passed around for drink and the filth is seeped into the very woodwork of every hovel and hut.

Loki found it charming. He draws his cloak over his head, jingling the purse of coins. He needed an adventurer to seek out a few corners of the world he found . . . curious in nature. But he was loathe to go seek them out immediately. This world may resemble parts of the Nine Realms but Loki wasn't complacent enough to believe his powers could do much here.

However, greed can do the job. ]

Would anyone be up for . . . a job offer?

[ His teeth gleam. ] It promises much honour and reward.

[ Wildcard ]

[It could have been much worse. It could be snowing. Luckily, James Barnes seems to be in one piece, fully armed, and in unfamiliar territory. The only thing that's confusing him is how his arm suddenly --well, became normal again. That in itself is suspicious, but his head feels oddly clear. This isn't the work of anyone he's familiar with.

The question is, what to do now? He's more than used to making his own way out in the middle of nowhere. But he's got no supplies, so -- perhaps he should follow the stream, see if it heads towards any sort of civilization. He's keeping a paranoid ear out for anyone approaching, whether it be human or animal. Maybe he'll manage to make a trade of some sort, if he finds a town.]

{city slicker, reply with brackets if you prefer}

The box wasn't what he was used to, as it wasn't the versatile and breathable standard cardboard, but at least it fit him well enough. Snake had been in the box for approximately fifty minutes, surveying the city surroundings. When no one was watching, the box (with him inside it) would move to a new vantage point. So far reconnaissance was slow, and conclusions few. Snake had thought initially that he had been exposed to a nerve gas or toxin which was making him hallucinate.

All his other faculties appeared nominal except for his metal prosthetic arm, which was not working whatsoever. Snake was able to use it as a dumb instrument, to support his weight and so forth, though that was strictly it. It was heavy and cumbersome without its working internal electronics and Snake had gone back and forth deciding whether to ditch it entirely or not. The frightening thing was that he was left-hand dominant and without a working prosthetic, his tactical abilities were going to be severely hampered.

Luckily so far none of the subjects of this city street seemed too hostile, even if they weren't exactly human. Snake had seen some messed up shit in the past year but these humanoids walking around were something else. Surely if it was a hallucinogen in his system it would have worn off days ago. Still, he was cautious, and equally as paranoid. The next time the street cleared out he carefully shuffled along in his box to a new spot.

A. Empire: Titan's Eye Lake

[There's only so many options available when you're stuck in a strange, new place with only the clothes on your back and no currency to purchase supplies with. Still wary of the city and its inhabitants, Korra opts to stay beside the lake until she has some kind of plan.

She's already got a fire going, a few fish skewered and cooking, and that's all she needs for now. As Korra watches her polar bear dog splash around in the shallows of the lake to catch her own dinner, she hears something behind her. She turns, gaze flicking between the newcomer and her dinner.]

Uh... [Korra offers them a sheepish smile.] It's not illegal to fish here, is it? [She might be remembering a certain incident in the Republic City Park.]

B. Empire: The Citadel

[Korra grits her teeth as she's turned away at the door again. This is the fourth time she's tried in the past two days, hoping that those stationed at the entrance would change their minds. Spoilers: they didn't.

Fed up, her temper flares, and she jabs a finger in the mage's direction.]

Stop calling me that! [The word "flawed" is getting old, in her opinion. She realized quickly enough that the people of the city had a very specific name for people like her, though she hasn't met anyone else yet. Korra scowls.] Look, it's not like we want to be stuck here! Why can't you just let me ask the mages inside if they have any ideas?

[As worked up and frustrated as she is, Korra doesn't realize just how much her voice is carrying, or notice the attention she's drawing to herself.]

C. Wildcard!

Edited 2016-07-17 15:22 (UTC)

i. scouting the city

It was hardly the sociable thing to do, but sometimes it just didn’t matter what people thought. He only hoped it wasn’t somehow illegal, the prospect of private property mattering significantly less if it wasn’t. Regardless, it wouldn’t change the fact that the easiest way to scope out any area would always be high up.

So climbing buildings it was. Whether on the ground examining the best way to scale a building, in the middle of actually ascending the side of one, or leaning out over the side of a roof to mentally map out landmarks, Bucky was going to keep at it until someone stopped him. If anyone bothered to. It was probably difficult enough for most people to question a handicapped man anyway, especially in his far-too-modern clothing. All he knew was that if someone looked remotely like a government official or some kind of guard, he was high-tailing it out of the immediate area.

ii. drinking the night away

Recon was all well and good so long as everything was familiar. Given everything wasn’t—damnit—Bucky knew better than to trust himself to remember every last detail without conflict.

Somewhere in the middle of trying to make sense of where the hell he was, he’d nicked himself a blank book (a simple, ratty one, so hopefully it wouldn’t be missed) as well as a bottle of ink. A makeshift quill was also easy enough to fashion with his combat knife as there were all manner of twigs and reeds when one really looked for them. The only downside was the inefficiency of the whole process, so even though he’d manage to work out how to do it, satisfying the why felt far less gratifying than usual, especially since it had become a habit.

At least the ale helped. Not that it was anything fancy or tasted amazing, but it worked insomuch as he was able to alleviate the headache he was getting from how absolutely primitive everything was. He could make things work, sure, but Bucky couldn’t escape the feeling that he was in some fantasy dime novel. That he was tucked away in a tavern—not a pub, not a bar, but a proper tavern, Christ—with a makeshift note-taking system and where people were wearing far simpler things than were normal even in the 20s made the reality really hard to swallow. It seemed like something in a Hollywood movie, but he knew he was awake, and he was stuck here of all places without an arm and without a clue how to get back to where he should be. At least there was no Red Book here. He hoped.

(A. Jiaport)

The day is busy and warm, Jiaport's harbor littered with ships arriving and departing, the town occasionally raked over by salty winds that sweep off from the ocean. Jack navigates the bustling docks with a swaggering, experienced ease, as if he’s frequented this place many times in the past -- this seems to help keep any unwanted attention from lingering too long on him. At some point, the pirate eventually ends up at a merchant stall, asking questions and fingering a few of the more ornate trinkets as the vendor eyes him with vague suspicion.

"A ship with black sails? Haven't seen one." The merchant flaps his hand at Jack, trying to shoo him away as he tends to his stall. Anyone with a sharp eye and the spare attention, however, will notice that each time the man's focus strays -- even the slightest -- Jack furtively slips a trinket into his coat pocket, then continues to ply him with more distracting questions.

"You absolutely certain of that, mate? It'd be hard to miss."

"I am. Now buy something or go bother someone else with your questions -- " The man waves his hand again, this time at someone who ventures close enough to the stall. " -- like them."

(B. Tavern)

This place may not be home, but really, a tavern is a tavern. The air inside this particular one is muggy, thick with sweat, music, and drunken shouting. Jack is lounging in a wooden chair near a wall, boots propped onto the surface of the table in front of him, tankard of rum in one hand. His other hand is lifted in the air, elbow propped on the chair's arm, hand bouncing lazily to the rhythm of the fiddles being played.

All is well.

Well except, that is, until the mellow shouting abruptly ratchets up in volume and an argument turns into a full-on scuffle. Suddenly punches are being thrown, and the rest of the tavern erupts into a massive free-for-all. Sensing this about the time that he should make his exit, Jack clutches his tankard to himself and rises from his chair. It's a good thing, too, because in the next instant two brawling men crash into the table that Jack was seated at, overturning it and forcing him to stumble backwards a few wobbly steps -- and unfortunately, into the nearest person.

The Market

"Look, I'm telling you that this is an authentic and actual life dragon." The man with a regal disposition was standing with what looked to be a rather ordinary lizard in his hands. The merchant across from him was doing nothing to hide his skepticism. "And I promise you," Richard went on. "That if you continue to try and inflict your outrageous prices on myself and the other good citizens of this city, then I will have no choice but to raise him into a terrifying beast which will inevitably ransack and destroy everyone present."

The merchant drummed his fingers impatiently.

"Which!" Richard added hastily before anyone could say anything else and he turned around to anyone who might be listening in, "I really don't want to do. I'm a people person, always have been. But he's forced my hand!" He turned back to the merchant, his expression grim. "You've forced my hand."

"It's still ten," the merchant answered brusquely.

"Oh fine. But don't think I'll forget this." Reluctantly, Richard slapped down the three coins to get the bit of food that was going to be his lunch today.

A Country Road

A man sat upon a horse. A lizard sat upon a man. They baked beneath the open sun, all up until the moment they would meet someone else along the road. Richard had been expecting this, which is why he had a sword ready at his side. Brigands and bandits and people with unhealthy skin conditions were just the sort of thing you were likely to meet in situations like this. He was ready. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and he met the other rider with brazen disregard.

"Hello!" Richard smiled warmly and offered a friendly wave. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the way to Sunvault, right?"

It was not the way to Sunvault. As it happened, he wasn't even in the right country for Sunvault.

Edited 2016-07-26 13:35 (UTC)

He'd leaf the forest, but the lack of a map's got him stumped on which way to go:

Kain had awoken. He was somewhere...else, and he was not alone. He traded names and questions with the others, and in general a conclusion was reached that no one knew what was going on and everybody was various forms of confused. As does happen. (Either that or one or more of them were lying, as also does happen, but given the general situation he figured he could indulge in paranoia and suspicion after attending to things like orienting himself, finding the names of the general area, food, shelter, and things of that ilk. First things first.)

He'd gone towards the mountain. And he wasn't the only one. And while they weren't all collectively helpless in the forest, they were disoriented enough that they were cold, perhaps mildly damp, perhaps vaguely hungry, staring at a particular tree, and Kain said to no one in particular, "We seem to have gone in a circle."

Because that, indeed, seemed like the exact same tree which they had passed an hour ago.

Getting inndependence is long and difficult:

Having aquired some funds through some convoluted process which entailed currency conversion, bodyguarding work, and/or mercenary work-

"Surely you jest."

He'd been looking forward to actually getting a bed for the night (he'd been wearing his armor for so long that he was starting to suspect that he had armor shaped dents at this point) but apparently, no. No. Life is never that simple, no. Through some extremely contrived circumstances a traveling caravan of wayward performers had arrived in town two hours prior and had snatched up all of the beds. His only choices were outside, maybe finding a corner of the tavern to get drunk in, sleeping in the stables with the horses, or camping outside. (And the way the clouds were blowing and the wind picking up from the south in just such a fashion that you could feel the moist, chill air, it seemed like camping outside would be a very stupid idea very shortly.)

Meanwhile, the sound of panpipes and five fiddles could be heard from the tavern. No matter the choice here, it would be a very long night.

Cow:

There was one bridge which spanned a certain ravine, one which lead from point a (Bump-on-a-log, Fuckall) to point b (Sunvault). There was no other practical way of traveling from Bump-on-a-log to Sunvault. Normally, it served, but a bull had gotten loose and was stubbornly standing on the middle of it. It was too scared to move, too angry to let itself be moved, and anyone or anything that tried to draw close had gotten viciously kicked for their trouble.

At the moment, a local...let's call them...Ennpishi. Little Ennpishi was approaching the bull in an attempt to coax it off of the bridge. Apparently there was some drama in which the bull was owned by Ennpishi's father and Ennpishi was the family's cowherd or something he wasn't really paying attention. There was a betting pool going on. They would continue to be there for a while.

"So why are you here?" Yes, he's resorting to small talk. It's either that or betting on if Ennpishi'll manage to get the bull off of the bridge or not. No one was in a hurry. Mainly because being in a hurry entailed fighting the bull.

Wildcard

(Or whatever the fuck else you want.)

nyssa al ghul | arrow

Captain Charles Vane | Black Sails | will match style

Alysia | OC

no subject

Durotan | Warcraft