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springmods ([personal profile] springmods) wrote in [community profile] haddonfields2021-09-24 03:08 am
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Test Drive #1: What A Nightmare!

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Test Drive #1: What A Nightmare! We've seen how strange things can get at night.
Well, things are about to get a whole lot stranger.

Welcome to Springwood test drive meme! The purpose of this meme is to give potential players a preview for how the game's setting works and see if their characters work well with it.

All of the game's main information is available through our Player Guide, and if you have any questions not answered there, we have a Questions Page here.

Feel free to jump in at any time, and have fun!

OOC NOTES: The following prompts are the ways playable characters are introduced into the chapter setting. Players can also choose to use their test drive threads as a jump-off point for the introduction log if they like, but it's not required.

Players can use all 3 prompts and connect them together (for example, Prompt 1 leads to 2 then 3, or at random order), or use them separately as options.

Finally, this test drive leans heavily into horror scenarios, and as such contains described instances of graphic violence. Content rating is PG-13 and up.


Player Guide Ask A Question


Prompt 1: Check Your List Twice

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What's the last thing you remember?

Well, hold on to that memory. You're awake, though you don't remember having fallen asleep, and any major injuries you've had are now gone. Your skin is smooth, blemish-free, except for a strange dark scar on a patch of exposed skin. They almost look like... fingers? A whole hand? Whatever it is, it isn't fading, but it doesn't hurt either. It's just there, somehow.

But where are you? The answer seems to be an empty grocery store. It's dark outside that you can see, and you can't seem to find an exit or break through the glass fronts. There's a large store clock above where the main entrance would be, and it reads 3:33 AM in blinking neon red numbers. You stare at it for a few seconds, feeling as though you should be moving on - but where to?

When the time changes to 3:34 AM, you hear it—movement among the aisles, as though someone (or something) is dragging a heavy object along the linoleum floor. Do you check it out? Do you wait for the figure to come into view? It sounds like it's headed for you anyway.

Let's hope you're not truly alone, because whatever this figure is, it doesn't sound like good news.

OOC NOTES: The Grocery Store prompt involves a being that takes on the form of a meaningful person in the character's life (they can appear as other playable characters), and will pursue the character with the intent to harm them and them only. They will not be speaking, and do not seem to die; if they are fully incapacitated, they will take 1 minute to regenerate or otherwise heal, with each succeeding instance of complete incapacitation (blow to the head, decapitation, et al) doubling the waiting time.

Characters will not have their own weapons on their person, but any and all usual items and/or equipment found in a standard grocery store are available to use instead. Characters in the same thread will be followed by each of their figures, and can interact with each other's figures as well.

Each figure is dragging along or carrying with them a rucksack containing the character's personal belongings, or if they've found their personal items in another prompt, a meaningful non-powered item from their canon. The store doors will unlock once the time changes to 6:00 AM, causing the figure to disappear and leave the rucksack behind and allowing the characters to exit the store. The rucksack can be taken from the figure at any time, but with difficulty.

Prompt 2: The Mysterious Ghost Car

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Are you tired?

You must be, because whatever you were doing has lead to an unintended nap. But when you wake up, you're not where you were when you fell asleep—you're now standing in the middle of a paved road, with heavily wooded areas on both sides stretching as far as you can see. There's a car parked ahead of you, on the side of the road, its engine coughing on idle. The lights are on, and the keys are still in the ignition, but the doors are locked. Do you know how to drive?

If you can't, then you better learn fast, because someone is approaching at a steady pace, and they're armed. Whether it's with a shotgun, an axe, or an honest-to-goodness chainsaw, they're coming to hurt you, and you need to get out of there right now.

OOC NOTES: The Ghost Car prompt involves a figure that takes on the form of a dead family member or an enemy of the character. The figure will attack the character and attempt to kill them, but their speed is limited to how fast the character is themselves moving.

Characters can interact with each other's figures, as they can be distracted to attack another character if they're in the way. Characters will find their personal belongings in the backseat or trunk of the vehicle. For characters who have claimed their personal belongings in other prompts, they will find one of the following weapons in the trunk or backseat of the car: a fireman's axe, a sawed-off shotgun with 12 rounds of ammunition, or a battery-operated bonesaw.

The figure will be defeated once they've been fully incapacitated 6 times; their defeat will allow the character/s to find the Welcome to Springwood sign leading them into town. Characters who attempt to drive away from the figure will keep driving in a loop, chased by the figure, until the figure has been defeated. (Running them over is very much an option.)

Prompt 3: Exit on Stage Left

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Sometimes the scariest thing in the world isn't what you can't see, but what you can.

You're in the middle of an empty playground, or in front of a closed Starbucks, or behind an official-looking statue in front of town hall. It doesn't matter where you are, or how you even got there in the first place. What matters is that you're not alone; there are other people that you can see, seemingly just as lost as you are. Do you approach them? Do you call out to them? Do you even want to?

You ought to decide soon. Up there in the sky is a very big light, shaped in the word EXIT, and if you wait long enough, it blinks out just for a minute. Nothing too scary, really. But when it blinks back in sight, there's a figure that appears to you in the middle distance, maybe about a hundred meters out. They look familiar, don't they? Like... you're staring in a mirror.

Is that really what you look like?

OOC NOTES: The Blinking Exit prompt involves a figure that takes on the character's own appearance from a positive or significant canon point. The figure will approach the character, behaving very similarly to the character, and once they are close enough to reach out and touch, will attack.

The character themselves cannot cause serious injury to the figure, but can ask other characters to help them instead. However, the figure will try to confuse participating characters, attempting to convince others that they are the "real" one. The figure will be carrying the character's personal belongings with them, or a significant memento.

To defeat the figure, characters must convince another character to kill their doppelgänger. Once done, the blinking exit sign will disappear, and characters will find themselves suddenly standing in a populated version of their current location. (Please minimize wearing too much blood spatter to not alarm the locals.)



Player Guide Ask A Question
original code by vigils.
metafictions: (Nᴀɢᴀʀᴇ)

[personal profile] metafictions 2021-09-24 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
hello mods! i see that the characters don't have weapons on them in the grocery store prompt, but could the figures that appear be armed?

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cw smoking

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thricefold: (136. it just sits in my hands.)

zita harrington. | original character. | gore warning.

[personal profile] thricefold 2021-09-24 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)

check your list twice.
[ this is not the first time that zita has stabbed a person and she knows it will not be the last. it's a subject she has an unfortunate amount of knowledge and expertise in but... she didn't think she'll be practically spearing someone with a shelf she pried off from the aisles as a makeshift weapon.

but she is and there's no denying it - not with the sickening crunch and squelch that echoes in the aisle, almost deafening as she drives the sharp corners in further and pushes forward, all but pinning the menace to the aisles behind them - it? - as cans rain down on their now still form.

she stares at the figure for a few seconds, waiting to see if it'll stir or react, and breathes a sigh of relief when it does not. she's lost her weapon but a fair tradeoff if it meant helping someone else and- ah. right. ]


A... Ah... [ needing a second to gather her breath, zita composes herself first before she turns to look at the person she had been defending, concern triumphing the exhaustion. ] A-Are you okay? We need to get going because they won't be down for long, dear.

the mysterious ghost car.
[ when zita finally escapes from the hellish grocery store, she has justine's embroidered sidebag with her. after those strange things were taken down, zita realised it had been dragging the bag around with it. it was eerily clean when she retrieved it from the corpse, not a speck of blood or gore on it despite what the figure had been through.

why justine's beloved bag was here of all places she does not know and the idea of her current ward being in this place - wherever they are, it's most certainly not the midwest. - leaves her on edge, restless and suspicious. the one good thing coming from this is that the bag allows her to carry some items she swiped from the store. hopefully, the items will prove to be useful later on if she comes across someone else again.

so distracted in her inventory count - and fussing if she should have taken this or that, since the bag could only hold so much inside of it. - zita only notices she's on the road by the crunch of gravel on her feet.

that and the fact she hears the signs of a struggle up ahead, people thumping and thrashing against the car that's parked up ahead. ]


Stop that! [ wasting no time, zita scrambles to pull out the bottle of wine she had taken and hurriedly smashes it against the ground. she had hoped to use the wine as a makeshift disinfectant but a makeshift weapon is called for right now.

she dashes forward, trying to gain the attention of the aggressor. ]
Leave them alone!
boyparts: (012)

check your list twice

[personal profile] boyparts 2021-09-24 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Minutes after waking up without answers, or anyone to ask questions to, Baptiste finds that the novelty of the situation would have been more entertaining if he'd been given more time — to explore, to press his fingers to the shelves and their contents, perhaps even have extended the limits of his body to enjoy the thrill of spreading many more in a public space.

But does it count as being public when it's empty? Hm.

Time has its own limits, unfortunately. The drag of something heavy draws him toward the sound, and when he puts a face to the mystery, it doesn't instil fear. Baptiste smiles, in fact, not knowing that this is not the real Scientist. He takes one step forward before the facsimile of the woman is crushed by a stranger. There's no shock in his surprise. He just stands there, observing the burst of chaos before he's addressed by the recomposed savior.

It doesn't take him long to remember how to be a person again. ]


—I'm fine. [ A blink, brows arched. He inches his shoulders up with believable tension. ] What's — who was that?

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ruinously: @tweak (Default)

dean winchester | supernatural

[personal profile] ruinously 2021-09-24 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE

[ A scar in the shape of a handprint isn’t exactly new to Dean, but the fact that there’s now two of them is pretty friggin’ jarring. It’s wrapped around his forearm, fingermarks black, a clear print on his skin.

Several times he tries, with repeated failure, to break the glass, leave the store, but when he can’t he starts to stock up, picking up items if he can find anything of use, cram them into a plastic baggie, maybe open a granola bar and cram it half into his mouth while he stocks up.

Strange environment? Get what you can, take only what you can carry easily.

Dean stops what he’s doing (poking at a register, looking for a way to open it to grab some quick cash) when he hears movement, something scuffling in an aisle just beyond his line of sight. Instinct tells him to grab a weapon, something he doesn’t seem to currently have on him, an inkpen will have to do, if there’s one laying about.

The baggie full of snacks is set down and he creeps forward, heading towards the next aisle over to check it out, peep through the shelving, if he can. If he finds you crouched there too, well. The more the merrier.

He holds a finger to his lips, carefully moving items aside to look. ]


THE MYSTERIOUS GHOST CAR

[ Hours later, after he’s escaped the hellhole of the grocery store and come face to face with some incarnation of Bobby that’s been trying to friggin’ murder him, Dean’s got his treasure slung over his shoulder and getting the hell outta dodge.

When he fell asleep, he couldn’t quite say. He damn sure doesn’t remember doing it, and for Dean to just...randomly pass out is pretty unlikely.

Extremely so. He’s an alert sonofabitch on a normal day, and can easily be woken by Sam talking quietly in a bathroom, so to nap and suddenly find himself in the middle of the road is jarring.

He blinks the grogginess away, and immediately trots over to the car, inspecting the door, peeking in and not seeing a driver. When he sees you, though, he cocks a brow, lips twisting up. ]


This yours?

[ He sure hopes so, cause there’s something a’comin’. ]


(( ooc; got a better idea/prompt? dm me! ))
vintagekiller: (pic#15157144)

check your list twice;

[personal profile] vintagekiller 2021-09-24 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
( She had already killed the thing once. And it had to be a thing, because even if it looked like Peck, it didn't talk nearly as much to truly be him. Whoever or whatever it was was currently down for the count, though - with a few seconds left before it stood from its bloody resting spot over in the pasta aisle.

Josie had managed to procure a heavy glass bottle on her trot through the store, and had been heading with it toward the deli counter in hopes of finding a suitable replacement for it. Something sharp. Something familiar. But the shuffling had urged her to take cover, just as Dean had apparently done, and if it weren't for finely honed instincts, the poor man would have been met with a bottle of fancy Italian dressing upside his head.

Instead, Dean was met with a woman that looked like she belonged in one of those super sexist 50's housewife advertisements, except she was also spattered with blood and holding a bottle equally as coated in red. )


Friend of yours? ( She whispered just loud enough for Dean to hear as she scooted up closer, peering through the shelf to try and get a look. 'Peck' should have been further down. There was no way he had gotten here that fast...right? Had to be someone - something - else. )

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discerp: (Found your pants.)

Mikan Tsumiki | Super Danganronpa 2 | heavy spoilers for SDR2 all around

[personal profile] discerp 2021-09-24 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
A. Mystery Ghost Car

[She wishes she could say that waking up in scary and weird places was something new, but mostly she's just tired and scared. Can she please wake up like, on a nice beach without killer psychopathic bears and killing games??

She sniffles and stares down into the dim gloom of the car to see the keys, the things in the back. She doesn't have much but she recognizes a medkit that'd be nice to keep. She tries every door and then stands there, feeling weird about what to do. She wanders around the car again until she hears an odd sound. A...chainsaw?

She can see the outline of what looks like a teenage girl, her hair up in too large pigtails, and Mikan's entire body goes cold.
] Oh no... no, no! [She yelps and turns, sprinting away until she quite solidly runs into someone else, toppling over to the ground.

With another yelp Mikan throws her arms up to protect her head
] I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Pl-please, y-you can hurt me if you're angry, but can we get out of here first? Some- something's-- [The sound of the chainsaw again and Mikan flinches with a scream]

B. Exit on stage left

[Shaken, Mikan makes her way towards what she hopes is civilization. The shops are all closed, even the coffee place, which is... annoying. And weird. Aren't these places usually open a lot later? (or...earlier? What time is it anyhow??)

Mikan tries the door a few times anyhow before realizing there's others wandering over. She twists her hands around anxiously, knowing she must look a little out of place, what with the bandages covering one arm and one leg. But aside from some superficial injuries she doesn't look all that beat up.
]

Ex...Excuse me? Do you live here? W-where are we? [She then flinches and holds her hands up defensively] I-I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't talk to your w-without permission, please forgive me, but... but...
metafictions: (Nᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ)

a

[personal profile] metafictions 2021-09-24 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[Unluckily for Mikan, the stranger she barrels into isn't, at first glance, very reassuring: he's only average height, but dark hair shrouds his features, and the heavy trenchcoat he wears makes him look that much larger. His expression's blank, only mildly confused, as he pulls the girl back up to her feet with firm hands.]

Please, calm down. Is it her?

[Several yards away, the chainsaw's motor revs. Kamui frowns tightly, gears turning in his head.]

We need to get back to that car if we want to find somewhere safe. I'll distract the woman. Do you think you can break one of the windows?
Edited 2021-09-24 21:18 (UTC)

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nixed: (011)

'helios' ( original )

[personal profile] nixed 2021-09-24 08:19 pm (UTC)(link)
check your list twice

[ Slow to wake from an absent dream, Helios groans at the rush of white lights, about as pleasant as fingers in his eyes. It doesn't get any better when he gets up, either, back aching like someone bent it and just kept going. Messed up trench coat, boots still dirty with gravel, Helios stretches off the dullness and grimaces his focus back into shape. He gets over the pain soon enough. It's the rest that's going to take a while.

Interesting as this predicament is, all he cares about is a way out — but instead of doors he finds a clock, and instead of information, he's given an omen. A witch brought him back from the dead, after all, and he knows better than anyone that nothing good happens after 3AM.

It takes a few seconds to look over his shoulder and decide to explore the store. It takes just under a minute to find blood spatter and no corpse to go with it.

Well. He's guessing no one's coming to clean up on aisle three. He speaks up anyway, just in case his captor is listening, nothing short of flat irony when he protests: ]


I don't think I'm worth all this trouble, man, but you do you.



[ ooc: Cue your character being chased down by their figure! I'll introduce Helios' later on. The dark scar is on his throat where he can't see it, so feel free to have your character point it out. ]
Edited 2021-09-24 20:20 (UTC)
forhekse: (014.)

[personal profile] forhekse 2021-09-24 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[She awakes to the feeling of a hangover. Headached, mostly, and deeply fatigued. The last time she felt this bad, she's certain edibles had been involved. There were none before this, she knows: there had only been camomile and a book, and by the crick in her neck, a timely snooze on the couch. The first thing she does is check her head, which hurts, but is mostly unscathed. Next, she looks up, and around, and she sees the clock, of course, and then the aisles, and the -- canned soup? The canned soup. ]

- You have got to be fucking kidding me, [is muttered under her breath, and then, she hears it. She doesn't pay attention to the clock, but she hears the movement. The dragging, the wheeze, and then, less ominous, she hears Helios. What she has here, is herself, and a stranger, and if she is lucky, perhaps he will be the thing walking noisily. So she crawls, first, to the edge of aisle four, and glances around it, momentarily, before she says, very calmly: ] Turn around, hands up.

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murderology: (005)

Jerry • Tales from the Gas Station

[personal profile] murderology 2021-09-24 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
PROMPT 1: CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE

    [ At first, Jerry assumes he fell asleep again. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but that's not new. Then he takes in his surroundings more and realizes he's no longer at the gas station. ]

    Huh.

    [ As he makes his way to the front of the store he wonders if he maybe wandered into the grocery store, passed out, and got locked in again. But he can't help but notice that there's something off about this place...it's different? It's not until he reaches the locked doors that he realizes he has no idea where he is. The large clock is the only thing that gives him any useful information. It's ass o'clock in the morning. He also notices, through the transparent reflection on the glass doors, the weird mark on his neck. ]

    Huh.

    [ The shuffling draws his attention to the rest of the store behind him. Now, he hasn't just seen this movie but he lived it. Lives it, even. It's instinct how he starts to search around for something, anything — moving to the aisles but keeping his distance from where he hears the shuffling until he can find something to use as a weapon. Ah, a can of beans. A large can! Sure.

    With a stupid amount of non-fear, he rounds one of the aisles with his can raised and ready to chuck—

    —and his face immediately falls flat. Flat, but desperately struggling to hold back a grimace and a scowl all at once.]


    Seriously, dude? [ A young woman is standing in the aisle with a rucksack. His tone is irritated but verges just on the cusp of being pained.

    He chucks the can right at her — no, at its head. It forces it to stumble back a step, head snapped backward before it returns its gaze to Jerry and begins to close the distance. ]
    Stop trying to be Van! You suck at it!

    [ He grabs another can of beans from the shelf and chucks it again, but the thing only stumbles a bit before continuing to wordlessly advance. ]


PROMPT 2: THE MYSTERIOUS GHOST CAR

    [ Jerry is so not tired. He's bursting with way too much frantic energy and nowhere to burn it. Naturally, as soon as he sees the car he thinks, "I'm totally gonna take that!" and heads right for it with the bag he retrieved hanging over his shoulder and what looks like the hilt of a sword sticking out of it. That was a lucky break, finding his katana, and he absolutely will not look a gift horse in the all too convenient mouth. Or something.

    Before he can make it to the car he notices the figure in the distance, squinting suspiciously and slowing his approach towards the vehicle. Once he spots the familiar overweight, spiked ginger hair and Hot Topic wardrobe, he sighs. ]


    Oh, it's just you. [ If someone happens by, Jerry completely ignores the figure wielding an axe that advances at a slow pace and nods his head towards the car. ] Hey, need a ride? I'm totally gonna GTA this car.


PROMPT 3: EXIT ON STAGE LEFT

    [ Jerry had been trying to get a look into one of the stores when he notices the reflection of the EXIT sign and glances back, up into the sky. He doesn't have long to contemplate what the hell that even means before it blinks on and off.

    It all happens pretty fast — which is saying a lot for Jerry, who's usually fast acting. Granted, he sacrifices a whole lot of sense and logic for the sake of acting quickly, but it usually works out for him. This time, it works out for him, but not himself. That is to say, he can't do much as he finds his doppelganger swinging his sack full of belongings right at his head, knocking him down.

    The mimic glances up at whoever happens by, looking alarmed. "Quick, help me take him out! This shit has totally gone all Mimic!" ]


    What? No it hasn't! [ Jerry calls incredulously from the ground, pushing himself to a stand. ] This is obviously like Invaders of the Body Snatchers — now you know he's not real! That movie was about bugs, dude!

    [ No one would blame you if you knocked them both out. ]


[ feel free to hit me with a wildcard if you got any ideas! ]
nixed: (082)

the mysterious ghost car

[personal profile] nixed 2021-09-24 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maybe waking up to part two of this nightmare would've stunned a normal person with despair. Maybe they'd get angry, or if they managed to collect themselves, they'd get started on finding another way out. What they probably wouldn't do is put both hands in their pockets and walk onwards with a rucksack hanging from one shoulder, digging out a cigarette he stole from the store. Good news: it's real. Bad news: what happened back there was also real.

He's barely got the lighter in his other hand when he arrives at the car, looking about as unfazed as Jerry is interested in not dealing with the sluggish axe enthusiast. ]


I have no idea what that means. [ The answer is yes. He just forgets to say it. Looking off, unlit cigarette between his fingers: ] He's coming for you, right?
Edited (Forgot to include the title, oops) 2021-09-24 21:06 (UTC)

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gojuryu: raynebowranger (06)

daniel larusso | cobra kai / the karate kid

[personal profile] gojuryu 2021-09-24 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
1. ghost rider (prompt 2)

Help-- h-hey, 'scuse me, can someone--

[It's the dead of night. The middle-aged man that's running up to the nearest stranger is perfectly unassuming-- if not for the coppery-red flecks of blood splattered across the tan skin of his cheek, the shards of broken glass clinging to the collar of his dress shirt.]

Oh, thank God. Thank you for stopping. I'm so sorry to bother you. [Daniel's dark eyes are wide with fear.] There's been an accident, he-- this man ran in front of a car. I think he's hurt. Christ, I really hope he's just hurt. Do you have a phone? We have to call 911.

[Several yards behind Daniel lies the man in question: a gray-haired, bulky figure lying in a crumpled heap in front of an idling car.

As Daniel continues to fuss and chatter at his new companion anxiously, the injured man shuffles up to his feet. John Kreese reaches through the shattered back window, grabs the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun and a box of rounds, and straightens up to his full height...
]

2. supermarket sweep the leg (prompt 1)

[It's 5 AM. Daniel is bone-tired, and he certainly looks it: dark circles have formed under the man's eyes, and his once well-pressed clothes are rumpled, dirty, and bloodstained. Dejected, the man sits with his head in his hands and his back against the dairy freezer.]

Shit, [he breathes, looking up to catch the eye of a passing stranger--] sorry, you gotta go somewhere else for milk. Look. [Daniel jabs a thumb backward into the dairy freezer.

Inside is a silver-haired man, thrashing wildly. His wrists and ankles are bound up unceremoniously with what may or may not be 2 rolls of duct tape, and his body's been tied to a metal shelf with a probably-excessive amount of packing cord.
]

Also, uh, if you see any bottled cold brew, could you bring me one? Please? I can't leave this spot. He's broken out 3 times already.

you're the best around (wildcard)

[wanna kill a doppelganger of the karate kid? interestd in remixing prompts 1 or 2? hit me up - i'm also at [plurk.com profile] smithsyndicate!]
goldenscarred: (pic#15185078)

2

[personal profile] goldenscarred 2021-09-24 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[The passing stranger- looks like some sort of weird soldier from a YA fantasy novel. White cloak, golden mask with narrow slits for eyes, leather boots. He's also pretty short for a soldier. Like, maybe five feet. He looks down at the mess caused by the fight that clearly happened, the rumpled man, and the thrashing being in the fridge, and he gives a shrug.]

Haven't seen any. But I did find this.

[That voice definitely belongs to a teenager. He holds up a soda can, bright green and red.]

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oftesserae: (grey)

sakurazuka seishirou | x/1999

[personal profile] oftesserae 2021-09-24 09:28 pm (UTC)(link)


( CONTENT WARNING: Seishirou is a veteran assassin with a thorough disregard for most human life, so some of his interactions with 'his' figures in the prompts below will be efficiently, but unrelentingly brutal. )


check your list twice;

A. 4:29 AM

[ Blood, an embarrassment of plastic, the cacophony of superstore jingles in a jittery, convulsive rendition of the latest two-for-one. Neon flickers above in anemic violence, beat and beat and beat, and Seishirou's migraine in the pharmacy and cosmetics aisle, pulses.

Excuse the gentleman — the polaroid picture of a dishevelled office worker, dragged through the bureaucratic nuisance of keeping tally against a chea - ...cost-effective penguin-shaped oven timer, the last fifteen seconds earning a placid hum. With one hand, he rummages through a variety of shelved off-brand bottles for a passable approximation of aspirin. With the other, he holds up the writhing pale line of a heaving young girl by her swan's neck, as she ribbons his arms with futile scratches.

The timer shrieks. Politely, Seishiro crushes the girl's windpipe, then patiently resets his timer. All down to an art, except when the girl's last comes with a whipping kick of the nearest shelf, plunging pretty packages of beady medicines to litter the sterile floors.

Including that precious treasure, the rolling, rolling, rooooooooooolllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing ibuprofen —

That lands squarely at a stranger's feet. Ah.. ]


I don't suppose I could trouble you for that?

[ This headache's bruised his temple, scratched him from the inside, run him raw. And he is still holding up the gently convalescing cadaver of the girl by her throat, and the timer should be dragged along, and really — aren't you just standing there, anyway? ]


B. 5:43 AM

[ Well, then. The pet food and care aisle. Will nostalgia never cease. As luck would have it, the last resort for the man bereft of grooming alternative. By this fine point in his — a glimpse of the looming, heaving windows, their captors — nearly brokered dawns, Seishirou has begged leave of the last of his aesthetic senses, wrinkled, ruffled, drenched in drying red slick and the tatters of tissue that a closer inspection might reveal is... not necessarily his own.

The dark smear on the back of his hand, an irony he tastes bittersweet, that he means to spit out. Knelt, he covers it discreetly with a pair of brightly YELLOW kitchen cleaning gloves, before summarily starting the work of cleansing his wetted shoes with a pet's brush.

As for the black, cord fettered to his arm at one end, unravelled down the aisle, which you nearly tripped on — ]


Apologies. I'm in your way.

[ — that long-stride dog leash is now pulling taut, while a disgruntled penguin-shaped kitchen screams, and something, someone starts galloping across the aisles.

Seishirou, for his part, makes due haste to polish his other shoe. ]


...and you are in hers.



the mysterious ghost car;

[ Exercise, any medical professional of repute will dignify to promote, helps cardiac processes and benefits both the growing and the mature biology. But, and the fine print of Seishirou's veterinarian textbooks were entirely specific, in between their cuddly platitudes, Excesses can strain joints and ligaments to the point of gentle erosion.

The better man would say, Sakurazuka Seishirou is not showing his age, only his temper, soured by unanswered summons to the ancestral power that has fueled his clan for generations. All very well to shroud a master practitioner in dreams and deception and cloying illusion work, but forcing him to matricide graduates from childhood fondness to pedestrian nuisance by the fourth round. The makeshift noose in his hand — a long dog's leash, run thin and quickly threadbare and reddened from extensive recent use — lends the artistic touch, but, really.

This is past his sleeping hour, for a week night. And a man can only work without play for so very long, before he crawls to the nearest car, knuckles rapping the window like summer rain in downpour, to ask the tragically resting 'driver': ]


May I inconvenience you for a cigarette?

[ Never mind his mother howling her resurgence in the far distance. He has his needs. ]

onerous: (floating in between the light and dark)

ghost car

[personal profile] onerous 2021-09-25 12:33 am (UTC)(link)
[One of the back windows has been broken, glass swept out to the ground as best Yuri could before she'd crawled inside. It's not really that cold but she feels a chill anyway, feeling awkward as she sat in the seat. It was...

Weird.

She didn't like this, being inside a car again. Not that she'd been at the wheel last time, but her fingers curl uneasily around the wheel (on the opposite side of the car than she expected so it must be American which is weird in and of itself). She was lost enough in her thoughts that the knock of Seishirou's knuckles against the glass makes her entire body flinch and she jerks around, eyes wide
]

Ah? A... [Her heart pounding a tattoo against her ribcage, the hair on the back of her neck raises at the howl in the distance but he's... Pretty calm about it. She stares for a moment and then takes a breath, remembering to breathe as she turns away, pushing the glove compartment open to rifle through it.

She should probably be asking more questions, but it's something to do, a direction to follow. So she searches, casting concerned looks over her shoulder at the noise in the background as it continues to grow closer and louder
]

I don't know if... [Nothing in there, but maybe something in the back?? None of the stuff had looked like hers'.]

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check your list twice; A

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birds of a miserable feather

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guerins: (06)

michael guerin — roswell nm

[personal profile] guerins 2021-09-24 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)
THE GROCERY STORE
[ the first thing he notices is that his finger's back to normal. where there used to be a constant ache there is none and michael can't not stare at it for a few seconds. and a few seconds turn into a few minutes and then he flexes that finger and looks around. ]

Okay, this isn't good.

[ his finger shouldn't be pain free and he shouldn't be in a grocery store. that's not where he was last he remembers. he pinches himself, tries to wake up from what's obviously a dream but the grocery store remains. ]

Hello?

[ in the distance, michael can hear a scraping sound, like something's dragging against the ground and he follows it. he passes through the aisle of cereal, plucking up a box of trix as he does and opening it to have a snack. ]

Look, if this is something experiment, I gotta tell you, it's not gonna work.

[ he has no way of knowing that but he sounds confident. when he turns the corner, he finds himself staring at alex manes. for a second, michael just stares because how is that possible? then, he rolls his eyes and starts walking towards him. ]

You're here too, huh? Small favors. [ alex doesn't answer but he does start to move towards michael. it doesn't take michael long to realize that something's wrong and he stops in his tracks, backtracking. ]

How about we meet up later?

[ alex keeps walking and michael keeps moving away until he turns and takes off because there is something off about alex and while he'd ordinarily stick around and see what was going on, the combination of the surprise grocery store, his fixed finger and alex makes him feel out of sorts.

it was time for a strategic retreat into the meat section. he can still hear alex moving but michael stops for a breath and some more trix while he can. ]


THE GHOST CAR

[ he opens his eyes and he's staring into the bright headlights of a car. it's not a car he recognizes but it's a car and to hell with this, if he's going to be given an easy way out of here, he's going to take it.

without waiting for an invitation, michael wrenches the door open and slides in, turning the keys until the car hums to life. he smacks the steering wheel and laughs.

the joy is short lived because when he looks up, there's max in his rear view mirror, a shotgun over his shoulder. ]


Oh shit.

[ his dalliance with alex in the grocery store tells him that this isn't a good thing, that max isn't here to chat. he's about to speed away when he notices someone else out of the corner of his eye.

michael, gratefully, doesn't recognize them. ]


Look, either get in the goddamn car or I'm going to let my brother back there shoot you.

[ that's your invitation, man. ]
ibiza: (eye roll ugh)

the ghost car

[personal profile] ibiza 2021-09-25 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ Margo hates the forest, or she at least hates this forest. Before her rule over Fillory she hadn’t had much experience outside of urban environments. Getting lost in a city is a vastly different experience than getting lost in the woods. She can at least be grateful that there’s a road here. She follows it and when she sees a car she picks up her pace. When she sees the man with the shotgun and the malicious gleam in his eye standing behind it she practically breaks into a run.

The stranger in the car extends an invitation (sort of) into the car, and Margo seizes her opportunity. ]


Don’t need to tell me twice.

[ She hops right into the car, quickly closing the door behind her. When she looks at the stranger in the driver’s seat, her eyebrows are wrinkled. ]

Sorry, did you say your brother? Any idea what made him take a turn for homicidal?

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the ghost car

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thedeadgirl: (03)

laura moon | american gods

[personal profile] thedeadgirl 2021-09-24 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
check your list twice

[ to laura, stranger things have happened, but finding herself in a grocery store after it has closed with a large red hair guy that looks like someone she knows is a new experience altogether. he had killed her before but the last time she saw him he was a bag full of ashes. so, definitely not the leprechaun she knows.

but the girl still has it. mostly. at one end of the cookies and crackers aisle is a motionless heap with a heavy-duty metal shelving bracket jutting out of its neck and multiple other dents and dings all over his face.

at the other end of the aisle sits laura cross-legged with a box of Vegetable Thins and a bottle of wine. bless the states that sell alcohol in their grocery stores.

she hears movement. ]


Swear to God if you are another fucking person I know that comes at me to try and kill me, I'll fuck you up.

[ odd coming from a woman who barely clears 5'0", but she can tell you some stories. ]

mysterious ghost car

[ all she'd wanted was to take a little break; a vacation that didn't involve old gods or new gods or fucking leprechauns. nothing ridiculous. a simple and normal life for a few years after everything she's been through. and yet, here she is, on some creepy road with several hundred yards between her and mr wednesday, who looks really pissed. ]

Look, you knew what was going to happen. I said I was going to kill you and I did so how the hell are you back?

[ laura takes a few steps back, shrugs and begins to feel an unsettling roll in her stomach that comes with knowing something isn't right. and that intuition is also pretty sure that she's screwed if he gets any closer.

just over her shoulder, she hears the car and the arrival of someone else, but as to who it was, she really couldn't tell. ]


Hey, so, any chance you're seeing an older-looking guy with a glass eye and a big fucking chainsaw? [ to herself ] Or maybe you're someone else I've pissed off by killing Odin and you're going to shank me from behind...
taintedpeony: (pic#14900332)

check your list twice

[personal profile] taintedpeony 2021-09-25 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
Young Maiden I can assure you that I do not know you.

[Jin Guangyao was breathless though as he ran up. He was a rather small petite man himself though. This person was just someone he would never be able to hurt even if he was forced to.

He did however manage to push a shelf over to him to incapacitate him for a moment so he could come up with a better plan.]


Though that is impressive work.

[He looked over at the man on the floor. In the distance, a pile of canned soup began to move. He had less time than he had thought. He looked around for something he could use to hopefully slow him down.]

I apologize, I may have to ask for your assistance.

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check your list twice

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Re: check your list twice

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thecoolerloki: (09.)

Kid Loki | Marvel Comics

[personal profile] thecoolerloki 2021-09-24 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
I. check your list twice

[Have you woken up already? Good, because there's a child heading straight towards you as the literal God of Thunder chases after him. Loki's armed with a lighter and one of those bottled Starbucks frappuccinos that are barely frappuccinos at all, but hey gotta stay hydrated. He stops just short of running into you, knocking over a display of boxes to stop Thor for a moment. Out of breath, he looks up and asks,]

Have you seen the hair products aisle? I swear that I've been down every aisle of this me-forsaken store and have yet to find any trace of a hair products aisle even existing, but well- [He turns the lighter on and off] Could be useful!

II. exit on stage left

[Closed Starbucks? Sure, why not keep the theming consistent. Loki was considering breaking in for a real frappuccino when that damned sign blinks in and out. Somehow, he's not surprised by what he sees. He doesn't run, merely waiting for the other Loki to catch up to him.]

This is your doing, isn't it. You're still mad that I won.

[The other Loki, Ikol, grins. And thus begins the baby fight! From an outside perspective, it kinda looks like twin brothers wrestling. And once someone does approach them, Ikol immediately stops fighting. Loki's pinned him to the ground, seemingly having gotten the upper hand.

Ikol calls out to the observer.]


You must help me! I-... he's a spell gone wrong. The evil inside me given form.

Me? You are literally the evil Loki! You're a despicable old man who stole my body!
nukeit: (not as expected)

i

[personal profile] nukeit 2021-09-24 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
( generally speaking, finding herself in a grocery store classic to older earth is not how her life goes: she's stationed in space, hauling cargo. trying to get through days where she already has enough nightmares to handle, with the one cat for company and her daughter already grown old and died.

to say she's unaffected by someone kid sized babbling on at her being chased by a very large, very displeased adult male would be ridiculous; about as ridiculous as immediately understanding the kid wants to rig a short flame thrower.

still, this big guy, he's a that--taller than she is, and armed. she reaches for the kid's hand, mind diving ahead: these places have old fashioned fire extinguishers. better overall, if needed, blunt force and cooling, even as part of her wants to be horrified at thinking in terms like these over what appears to be another human being.

one predating on a child.

screw species imperative.
)

Right, we're going this way--hairspray, really?

( she would make it sound more like she's questioning why that and nothing else, but thor is presently floundering through the display boxes and she's already moving. perhaps helpfully, towards the general direction of the store's beauty and personal care aisle. )

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righteously: (¹⁰ Aɴᴅ I'ᴍ ʙᴇᴀᴛɪɴ' ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴀᴄᴋ)

Dean Winchester | Supernatural 🔨

[personal profile] righteously 2021-09-24 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘

( The last thing he remembers is— the last thing he remembers is—

He can still feel a shout at the back of his throat, it still feels raw and carrying traces of expelled energy that don't actually materialize here. It's quiet, which is in direct contrast to where he'd been not two seconds ago. Wide-eyed and suddenly a little frantic, he tugs his eyes down to his forearm, looking for a cut. A glow. Any indicator that it's—

Nothing. ​
)

What the hell?

( He mutters under his breath, then shoots another hard look around. Empty, but for some reason he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. He's used to that feeling by now, felt it for three hundred and sixty five days, three hundred and sixty degrees, almost no time for sleep in the mix.

He starts walking, a purposeful gait that carries him through the aisles. He snags things up irreverently as he goes; a candy bar, ripping part of the wrapper off and leaving it discarded in his wake as he bites into the thing like a man starving. A bottle of water from one of the coolers — damn this feels like déjà vu.

The door doesn't work. Doesn't matter which way he turns the bolts, it's stuck. No worries, he's a man who knows how to improvise. Down one of the aisles is basic cookware. Pots. Pants. Most importantly, a big ol' spikey meat hammer. He tosses it around once or twice, gives it a flip, nods approvingly and then stalks back toward the door to smash it against the glass.
)


𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕔𝕒𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕

( He's walking; he's walking, he's walking, he's— wait, when did he start walking? When the hell did he get here? He's still got a bag slung over one shoulder, still wearing the same filthy clothes from the grocery store, but it's like the universe opened wide, yawned, and sucked him down its throat into Silent Hill.

Car. Headlights. Fog.

A distant, encroaching figure.
)

Oh, no thanks, I've seen this movie.

( He mutters unhappily, turning to head toward the car — just to see another person looking about equally as confused as he is. Damn it. )

Hey, listen, this is gonna sound weird but I need you to trust me on this-- we gotta steal that car.


𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨

( He seems to get his shit together a little faster than the civilians around him, and in just a few seconds he starts moving through them murmuring things to the effect of, you okay? Do you remember how you got here? Anything? Do you remember where you were?

He makes it through a solid half-dozen people when that exit light flickers, and for a second he thinks somebody slapped a mirror down a few dozen yards away from him out of the friggin' sky. He's got his hand on somebody's shoulder, just on the tail end of checking up on them. Across the way, he can see himself. Same posture, same gesture, but then it becomes one of those spot the difference pictures.

Clean clothes. Healthier looking. The person he's touching is of a completely different ethnicity. It's not a reflection.
)

Oh, no...

( He laments without even realizing it, carrying the fatigue of a man who knows exactly what's about to go down here. )


𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕕

( hit me with literally anything and I'll wing it; gimme a shout at [plurk.com profile] rifting if you wanna chat! )
Edited 2021-09-24 22:52 (UTC)
rememorate: (pic#15185007)

man, door, etc in whatever order

[personal profile] rememorate 2021-09-24 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[Atem has put a little distance between himself and his own stalking figure, and has only stopped as he tries to get a better handle on the situation and decide what to do. The sudden approach of another person is briefly alarming, but this guy isn't carrying a chainsaw, so he's automatically a step up from Atem's last encounter on this road. The stranger is even making useful suggestions!]

That doesn't sound weird.

[There's nothing weird about the idea of stealing that car; he's all for it. There's also surely nothing weird about someone who looks like they walked out of ancient Egypt being down for some grand theft auto, or having already attempted it.]

However, it's locked. I haven't been able to get into it.

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joy ride.

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10/10 amazing thank

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welcome to costco i love you

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rememorate: (pic#15184996)

Atem | Yuugiou

[personal profile] rememorate 2021-09-24 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[Check Your List]

[There are so many reasons why he shouldn't be in a grocery store.

Those reasons range from mundane (in his time in Japan, grocery shopping was not part of his usual activities), to a little more cosmic (he's supposed to be in the afterlife), but every single one makes this weird. The fact that he doesn't remember how he got here is just as unsettling, if not more so.

But fine, if this is what he has to deal with at the moment, it could be worse.

And then, of course, it does get worse. Something is moving around in the aisles, which wouldn't in itself be weird, but it sounds like whatever it is is dragging something and that's weird. And a little ominous. So he decides to check it out, because that's what you do with danger.

About thirty seconds later and he's regretting this decision, and so whoever else has the misfortune to be in this grocery store may soon be greeted by someone climbing over the shelves. Atem drops more or less gracefully--just ignore all the stuff he knocked over in t he process--off the top shelf and into the new aisle, purple cape billowing dramatically and definitely not almost getting caught on anything.

He briefly freezes as he realizes there's someone here, but as long as they're not immediately attacking then, again, could be worse. He gets right to the point in asking--]


Is there someone following you?


[Ghost Car]

[Now where is he?

The abandoned road is less creepy than the supermarket, somehow, but still not great, and Atem frowns suspiciously toward the idling car. Since it's the only noteworthy thing around, it feels a bit like it could be a trap, and if so then he's not totally sure it's worth springing just yet.

Except then there's another sound, drawing his attention toward the other stretch of road, and... Okay, nevermind, the car is looking appealing. He doesn't know how to drive, but when has not knowing how to do something stopped him?

The answer, of course, is never, but what does stop him is that the car doors are locked. Great, awesome. The only upside to this is that now he has an excuse to break something, specifically the windows, if he can figure out a way to do so.

He scrambles onto the hood of the car like a hooligan, having quickly decided that kicking in the windshield is the way to go here. He could definitely use some help with this, though, if anyone is willing to dodge the horrifying mummy-like being steadily drawing ever closer.]



[Wildcard]

[[ooc: If you have an idea for a different prompt go for it! Also feel free to PM or message me on plurk at [plurk.com profile] amiasha or Discord at Ami#8741.]]
Edited 2021-09-24 22:59 (UTC)
cuscumber: (pic#14361150)

ghost car

[personal profile] cuscumber 2021-09-25 08:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ The mummy, while super gross, isn't exactly the most horrifying creature Shen Qingqiu's ever faced. Far more intimidating to him is his own approaching stalker, a man who looks exactly like him dressed in luxurious silk green robes - and more worryingly, carrying a sawed-off shotgun. Luckily, it seems the shadowy figure's either still too far to hit anything vital or has the aim one would expect from a guy from ancient China who's never seen a gun in his life; whatever the case, the shot he fires goes wide, splinters exploding from a tree about a dozen meters away.

Still, that is way too close for Shen Qingqiu's comfort; he's managed to recover his belongings from the grocery store, but the sword he's wielding isn't going to do much good against bullets. He's not that OP! The best hope he has right now is the car behind him and the boy trying to get into it...the boy who looks like he walked straight out of a museum exhibit on ancient Egypt. Is someone like that really qualified to drive...?

...of course, given his own incredibly archaic clothing, thinking that way would make him a massive hypocrite. Fuck it, he'll gladly leave a 5-star review for EgLyft if it means getting the hell out of here! He'll take getting carsick over getting his head blown off any day of the week! Backing up to the front of the car, he starts slamming the hilt of his sword into the driver's side window. ]


The glass here seems thinner - we may have an easier time shattering it than through the front!

[ Granted, this is mostly conjecture given that the only experience he has with cars is riding them and he hasn't done so in a long ass time, but aren't windshields supposed to be reinforced? How else do they keep things like branches and bugs and people trying to kick through them out?? ]
Edited 2021-09-25 08:38 (UTC)

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extendedbrutalpipemurder: (the universe expand)

Elias Bouchard / The Magnus Archives

[personal profile] extendedbrutalpipemurder 2021-09-25 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
checking the list

[ Elias in one of the aisles beating the unconscious form of a white-haired man about the head with a fire extinguisher. There's blood going everywhere, and it's probably clear that the figure on the ground shouldn't be getting up again.

He will stop after thirty seconds or so, if the observer doesn't intervene to stop him before then, and inspect himself and his blood-spattered suit distastefully. ]


Well. That was unpleasant.

[ It's as much as reflection on his ruined suit as an invitation for anyone watching to share their thoughts. ]
taintedpeony: (icon52)

Jin Guangyao | Mo Dao Zu Shi (Cw: Major MDZS spoilers ahead)

[personal profile] taintedpeony 2021-09-25 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
❁ 001. CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE:

The last thing Jin Guangyao had remembered was the sickening crunch of bone.

When he came to he was somewhere large and clinical. He looked down at his hands, well both of his hands were now pristine, where one was missing and the other burnt before.

The lights were cold in a way that was too strange to consider. Did it look like a...shop? But like no shop he had ever seen in his life. Off from the left side, he could hear the drag of something, the discordant sound of strings scraping against tile the floor. A rush of anxiety ran through him in a way he could not quite explain. The sound turned around the corner and finally came into view.

He squinted at the figure, A tall elegant man whose usually pristine white robes were covered in blood. In one hand he dragged along a guqin, its strings frayed and rubbing against the smooth tile, and in the other his sword Shuoyue, bloody and catching the fluorescent light. On his back was a large rucksack.

Lan Xichen, his second sworn brother, just stared at him from the end, his eyes as cold as the Gusu winters.

"S-Second Brother?!" he asked, his voice rising to a higher pitch as his eyes landing on the bloody sword. How could he be here? He was supposed to be in the temple!

The figure began to run towards him sword drawn and dripping, and once close enough he swung.

Jin Guangyao managed to unfreeze and dodged and began to run, skidding against the smooth tile as he turned the corner and almost crashed into someone. "Run! I don't know what's wrong with him! Move!" he shouted the sheer panic in his voice.

❁ 002. THE MYSTERIOUS GHOST CAR:

How did he get here? This street was bigger and smoother than the ones Jin Guangyao was used to. However, the forest on both sides felt rather oppressive. He had fallen asleep in a small alleyway after escaping his second brother, his hard-won rucksack at his shoulder.

The metal thing in front of him was curious. It looked like a carriage of some sort, with wheels and a window. In the rearview mirror, he saw movement, and he turned his head to look and made a horrified strangled noise.

Fuck.fuck.Fuck.fuck.Fuck.fuck.Fuck.fuck.Fuck.fuck.

It was Nie Mingjue, his first sworn brother, standing several feet away. Seven feet tall and holding a large cleaver. After his last experience went he was not taking any chances. He picked up a large rock from the side of the road and smashed a back window and then crawled into the carriage's front. At least it would put something between him and the other man though he had seen him feel entire trees.

There were all these buttons and contraptions as well and he began to press them all frantically hoping it did something!

"Please! How do I make this thing go?! He's coming after me!" he shouted through the window at another person who was running by.

❁ 003. EXIT ON STAGE LEFT:

Jin Guangyao hated how he would just appear somewhere new like a dream. At least there were others here. He made his way over, there may be safety in numbers after all.

"I do not think I can really ever get used to this..." he spoke to the person next to him.

The large exit sign appeared and then faded out only to reappear bathing a new figure in red light.

The figure was dressed in resplendent gold and a black gauze hat and had a twisted smile that cut like a knife. The neon glow gave him a malicious aura. He began to step closer and closer in even steps. Saying nothing but had that eerie smile.

Jin Guangyao was frozen in place holding his breath with horrified fascination, He should be running after the last two incidents but for some reason, his legs would not cooperate. It was almost too much.

This must be hell and he was paying for all the crimes he had committed in his life was his only thought as his double attacked him, wrestling him to the ground. He broke free long about to try and throw him off of him, now fighting for his life.

"Help!" he called out desperately before the figure wrapped his hands around his throat. He scratched at his face, kicking and trying to shove himself off.
Edited 2021-09-25 01:01 (UTC)
to_rise_above: <user name="cupcake_graphics"> (182)

2 - since all of them seem tragic regardless @__@

[personal profile] to_rise_above 2021-09-26 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
Someone-- please give him a break!

Waking up in a weird place was one thing. Breaking out of the weird building was another, but did he have to deal with a possible hallucination of his father's corpse chasing him down and trying to kill him?! He didn't even have anything to defend himself with. No Fairy to protect him from the hallucination, no Suihua or his bow and arrow to fight back.

Jin Ling was almost out of breath by the time he made it to the open parking lot. What threw him off even more, was when he whipped his head around, there's another hallucination (?) coming in the same direction?!

The noise that the corpse made, disturbed Jin Ling but what disturbed even more was what kind of corpse and who it belonged to. It was Nie Minjue!! What the hell was going on!? It was coming at him fast as the corpse of his father. The only thing he saw in the distance was a metal contraption that he could potentially hide in for the time being. He tore for that.

Except, when he got to the metal contraption and attempted to pull it open, the visage of another person threw him in a another frenzy. He almost gave himself a concussion as he threw himself back onto the gravel with a loud thump.

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fushdadfglkfdsjb

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you asked for this

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i did. U_U ;;

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illicitly: (adult - 21)

Nie Huaisang | Mo Dao Zu Shi | heavy spoilers for MDZS abound probably

[personal profile] illicitly 2021-09-25 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
A. Check Your List Twice

[One moment, Nie Huaisang had been busy reassembling his big brother's corpse for the final act of his decade-long masquerade, each loving stitch of the needle and thread bringing both Nie brothers one step closer to the justice denied to them both. The next, he finds himself in the oddest marketplace he's ever seen, staring at a peculiar, dark scar on the back of his left hand.

Fingers? A handprint?

However, before Huaisang can dwell on it any further, he hears the sound of footsteps and the faint metallic jingling approaching. His head jerks up just in time to see a familiar young man with ghastly makeup in black and red robes rounding the corner, heading listlessly toward him, clutching a blood-stained ritual dagger in hand.

Huaisang's face goes stark white. It can't be him. Not anymore.]


...Wei-xiong?

[Even as he calls out the name in a soft, frightened tone, he knows it's wishful thinking. The expression and body language are all wrong, too much like a beaten animal's to ever belong to Wei Wuxian.]

....A-Yu?

[At this name, the figure raises his dagger to strike and lunges.]]


B. The Mysterious Ghost Car

[Nie Huaisang awakens with a start on an unfamiliar road. He glances around the city, nothing the thick forests on either side of the road and a curious metal contraption on wheels up ahead sitting off to the side. He bites his lips, writing his hands nervously, as he tries to figure out what to do in this situation. He doesn't know where he is and his intuition tells him that whatever this place is, it's somewhere very far from home so when he hears footsteps, Huaisang turns toward them in the hope that it might be someone who can help him with an explanation or to simply get his bearings.

Who he sees is the last person he ever expected to see alive again.]


Da Ge? Da Ge!

[The cries come out borderline hysterical with desperate joy and hope, years of pent-up grief and yearning overpowering Huaisang's sense completely. He's longed so much to be able to just see and hear his older brother's voice again. Nie Mingjue is a warrior, and much bigger and stronger than the younger Nie. Even more, he's familiar so Huaisang doesn't think twice about him being armed with a bloody saber or breaking into a run toward him.

That is until he gets close enough to see the bloody tears streaming down Nie Mingjue's face. Huaisang stops cold in his tracks, shaking his head helplessly.]


No, no, no... Not again!

[He still bears a scar on his arm from the last time he faced his brother in this state. That time, there'd been others around to protect him but now he's on his own. What should he do? Investigate the incomprehensible metal contraption on the road in the hope that it might contain something useful? Or make a run for the trees and hope to lose him in the forest until he can think up a better plan?

Nie Mingjue marches onward.]



C. Exit on Stage Left

[Nie Huaisang makes for an unusual figure among the other people on the playground with his archaic, silk robes and long, flowing black hair. He draws the gaze of more than one curious child or nervous parent as he sits timidly at a picnic table beneath a tree. The man from a distant place and time is at a loss of just what to do and he's a little too scared to approach any of the locals for help.

So he just sits, waits, and observes the people around him in an attempt to get a better sense of how things around done around here and what the best way to integrate and start gathering information about this place would be. However, when his confusion fails to clear, Huaisang heaves a weary, dramatic sigh and looks up to the sky, as if the heavens themselves might reveal some sort of guidance to help him figure out what to do here.

That's when he sees it: a lit-up sign in the sky saying 'exit'.]


Is that the way out!? If I can fly up there, will I be able to go home, then?

[Huaisang jumps to his feet, excited at the prospect before he remembers: his saber isn't here. Without it, there's no way he can even get near it. He slumps back on the bench, dejected, missing the sign blinking out of existence or its reappearance a second later. He does, however, catch the arrival of an intimately familiar teenager lounging carelessly on top of a picnic table fanning himself with his own trademark accessory gifted to him by someone very special to him.

It's only then that Huaisang realizes the fan he carries him is missing. This is unacceptable and for the moment, his outrage at this travesty overcomes every other thought or feeling about this absurd situation and he's back on his feet again, flouncing rather aggressively toward the skinny teen.]


Thief! That doesn't belong to you! Give it back!

[The normally timid, anxious Nie Huaisang thunders the words as he advances on the youth.]
taintedpeony: (pic#14900332)

B.

[personal profile] taintedpeony 2021-09-25 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
Jin Guangyao should be livid.

He should be feeling a lot of things, but when he heard that familiar cry from the middle of the street, pure instinct took over instead.

He bolted out from his hiding spot behind the contraption and grabbed Nie Huaisang by the wrist and shoved him roughly behind it. To put some space between them and Nie Mingjue. He owed Huaisang a nice stabbing later but right now he could not allow him to suffer Dage's wrath again.

This was too much, too raw, too recent.

He grabbed a rock and broke into one of the back windows, and used his rucksack to clear off any glass that may be on the edges. Then, wrapping the cloth of his sleeves around his hands and climbing inside himself, and shunting his small body into the front.

"Huaisang! Look and see if there is anything back here we can use to defend ourselves. I'm going to turn every key and see if I can get this thing to do something!" They didn't have a lot of time and he was marching ever closer.
Edited 2021-09-25 01:10 (UTC)

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skirka: (n.)

cersei lannister | asoiaf

[personal profile] skirka 2021-09-25 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
i. check your list twice

[ This is… a market? But there are no vendors standing beside their wares, and there are no canvas tents to shield them from the sun. There is no sun to speak of; the light in this place is harsh and glaring, worse than Dorne in summer, or what she presumes Dorne in summer would feel like. Neither is it warm, and when she blinks to some semblance of waking, to recognizing her whereabouts, she recognizes nothing at all. Only an abundance of what seems to be food, and no one milling nearby to purchase any. There is nothing, no one, and when she begins to gather herself, to push herself up from the floor, her bare palms find the strange stone beneath them to be cold, chilled.

She is unharmed – once she is on her feet, she inspects herself for injury, suspecting that she must have been mishandled if she has found herself somewhere entirely without her own permission. But her skin is not blooded, nor blemished, and all that seems to be amiss is a blossoming new bruise at her knee. In lifting the red silks that fall against her legs, she spots it, and cannot name it for a bruise in truth – the imprint there strikes her first as a hand. Curling fingers? Her blood is run through with ice, her heart shying behind her ribs, and she lets her skirts fall, prompted swiftly to identify where precisely it is that she is being kept.

It seems that there is only darkness outside, and as she hastens down one aisle and then another, there is no promising shape of an exiting door. There is no promise of anything at all, only glass shielding strangely-prepared and waiting foods, and after testing one of those panes with a fist in her mounting annoyance, she pauses, listening. There is the sound of movement that is not her own, and a burden heavily dragged, and she is on the point of crying out for a guard before recalling that she is nowhere that would have one of her own guards posted, sword at the ready. So she must wait, a deer poised for flight, and when it is her grotesque little brother that lumbers into view, her fury outshines her fear.

He drags with him a rucksack as if it were a body, lumbering, leering at her, and she knows he has come to kill her. Here, even here, no matter where here is, how dare he, and she flees, frantic suddenly in her search for a bludgeon. What she finds, instead, is her own body crashing into another’s, and again she is marooned on that strange, chilly floor, a tangle of silk and fright and thrashing hands, as if her brother has already set up on her, fingers around her throat. What is there to do but appeal righteously to anyone who can hear? ]


Kill him!


ii. the mysterious ghost car

[ When she snaps awake, she is in a thick wood – no, she is only flanked on either side by a thick wood. She stands on a road, it would seem, one made of neither dirt nor cobble, and when she turns to regard the deepening darkness into which she has strangely awoken, she can nearly feel herself shrinking within it. There are lights, though they are as jarring as a lantern in a cell of pitch; they lance through the dark as if originating from another world, somewhere that sends forth slivers of light that do not belong to the sun, or to fire. She cannot afford to wonder from whence they came; she hurries to approach, as careless as a lost creature scuttling toward the first pool of light.

The lights are streaming from the face of what could have possibly been a wheelhouse, though it is most strange: encased in a hard shell, and vibrating as if it were a beast living, and growling. Through the windows she peers, but there appears to be no one within. She does not, however, find the contraption empty; in the back of the wheelhouse, she recognizes belongings which are inarguably her own. A shawl, a chalice with a golden lion twined about its stem, a long quill and parchment, and a slim dagger, bejeweled of hilt. She gasps to behold these stolen treasures, though she looks up not a moment later at the sound of a body approaching.

It is a corpse approaching, for it is her dead husband, and the fury in her heart is evenly matched by her shock. He bears down the dark road with an axe gleaming silver in his hand, and she does not need to wonder in any genuine surprise whom he means to find with that blade, or what he means to do when he does. Green eyes flash like chipped jade in the dark, and when she turns her head, it is an indignant demand she gives to the first figure she sees, as if all that is transpiring is a personal grievance against her. Something her conscripted hero will need to promptly compensate her for. ]


Hurry! You must carry me from this place at once. [ Nevermind that there are no horses to do said carrying, and that this is no proper wheelhouse, but she refuses to be killed by her husband’s reanimated corpse. ]


iii. exit on stage left

[ There are others here, waiting, wandering, though she cannot fathom for what. She cannot fathom, even, where she is. On the edge of the sea? It seems there is a dark, rumbling hum somewhere in the distance, and perhaps something of a moon above. Are these wayward revelers upon the beach? But where would she have been reveling in anyone’s company? The better part of her drinking is done alone, and she would not have strayed out onto a beach peopled this way by strangers. She does not even have, anymore, the benefit of a half-empty glass in her hand.

And she is wrong – that is not a smear of a sailor’s moon in the sky. It is something considerably more sinister: letters, a word, branded into the dark. Exit. Can she not simply see herself away from this place by her own leave, whensoever she pleases? The light blinks out, and then resumes, and when her gaze falls, it lands upon her own reflection, a hundred meters out, evidently at sea.

She is beautiful, she thinks before she can host any other thought; she is as beautiful as she had been on the morning of her wedding. The reflection advances, approaches, glides as smoothly at every step as any of those Cersei herself had ever taken, and for a lull she is enthralled, held still by the vision. It is only once the figure has come so near that she could reach out and take her own hand, graze her fingers through the fall of her own hair, that the apparition lunges forward. Her upraised, warding hands do nothing to dispel what must be a hallucination, and it seems that her reflection is imitating her, skirting away and raising a shrill voice as if Cersei had been the one to approach in madness.

The insult of it is worse than her fright; she narrows her eyes and bristles like an agitated cat, having to raise her voice above her reflection’s own, both now reduced to angry twirls of silk. The imposter is even wearing her own emerald-studded diadem. ]


A madwoman! A murderer and a thief! Someone restrain this woman! [ It would be nigh impossible to determine which of the two was doing the commanding. ]
chengluan: ( tw: mrh_mdzs ) (( 이젠 나를 그만 놓아줘 ))

i

[personal profile] chengluan 2021-09-25 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ The space they have found themselves in is as foreign to Liu Qingge as it is to Cersei - trying to summon up his sword does not work, nor does any other possible things he could think of to break this mysterious spiritual array that holds them trapped within the building together with these monsters.

Liu Qingge taps his fingers against an elbow, a steady movement that belies the annoyance starting to mount, as he frowns at the glass windows. Trying to break them does nothing, so he must assume that it is some kind of a magical barrier - how else would panes of ice be this indestructible? It could simply be that he isn't as well versed in curse breakings as some of the others, but he knows that there is very few who can hold their own against him when it comes to sheer power; he should have been able to shatter through this illusion easily.

But really, judging from the blood already staining his sleeve dark brown and red, what they're going through right now sure doesn't seem like mere illusions.

The slow, lumbering scraping sounds nearby attracting his attention and Liu Qingge picks up the broken piece of broomstick (the head of it laying somewhere nearby where he'd tossed it away) as he heads towards the sound -- but what he isn't expecting is for someone else to come running around the corner, a woman clad in scarlet who nearly knocks him off-balance with the force of it but instead sends her sprawling on the floor. The words are indistinctive - voice speckled with terror and rage and other things that Liu Qingge cannot figure out right now - but he can easily pick out some small figure slowly picking its way among the mess left in her wake, something that almost would look like a child, but at a second glance, isn't. ]


What is that?

[ Liu Qingge doesn't back away, instead reaching down to rudely grab for her arm and pull her upwards back on her feet, the broken glass and the cans clattering at their feet. ]

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inthemeadow: (pic#15017305)

malyen oretsev | shadow & bone

[personal profile] inthemeadow 2021-09-25 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
( CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE )
[ Maybe he was dead. Maybe he'd bled out in the snow in Fjerdan territory alongside his dead friends and this was the afterlife. A chillingly quiet afterlife with more food that's ever been available to him. Speaking of friends, where was— ]

Alina! [ The name of his best friend from childhood, and the reason he calls it out now is that he sees her at the very end of the meat aisle that's cold enough to make him shiver. He immediately advances towards her and she hasn't spoken yet but he figures she's just in shock since she's coming towards him too. The only thing he expects from her is a hug once she's close enough...

Except her hands close around his throat instead. She's hurting him and that's how he knows it's not Alina. Maybe a Grisha wearing Alina's face. He manages to shove the imposter hard enough to lose their grip on his neck. ]


Who are you? [ His voice is demanding of answers and loud enough to attract attention elsewhere in the store. Who would try to trick him with the face of the person he trusted the most? ] I know that's not your real face. Show your true self.

[ If your character happens to walk into the same aisle, it'll distract Mal long enough to take his eyes off the fake Alina - and that's when she lunges for him again, knocking him to the ground. ]


( EXIT ON STAGE LEFT )
[ He's fighting a losing battle against his doppelganger.

Of course, his first instinct when being attacked by someone who looks like him is to fight back, but every move the real Mal makes is anticipated, blocked and countered. He's felt anger at himself before, but he's never wanted to punch himself harder in the face out of sheer frustration.

He's tired, his face is a swollen, bloody mess and his ribs are bruised, but he'll never stop fighting. That's Mal in a nutshell. And someone really ought to intervene and remove the imposter if they can choose the correct one (spoiler: it's the one without a scratch on him). ]
cruelyethuman: (eyebrow arch)

Exit on stage left

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2021-09-25 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
[It's not the darkness that gnaws at him, nor is it the sudden drop in to what appears to be some kind of twisted fairy tale. The Darkling strides purposefully through the growing shadows and the flickering lights, heading forward with as much dignity as he can after what just happened.

His kefta lost to the fight and the shadows-

Something liquid hot and slimy squirms in his gut at the thought, but there's no time to dwell on this, not when a grunt is punched out of someone up ahead, and he watches the tracker fight himself, punches flying and blood spurting, with black eyes.]


And they say dreams don't come true.

check your list

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expositus: (jj15137838)

jessica jones | marvel netflix (jessica jones)

[personal profile] expositus 2021-09-25 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE

A

[ with the kind of lifestyle jessica leads and how hard she drinks, falling asleep suddenly in places other than her bed isn't that unusual an occurrence. what's disturbing about this sudden jolt into consciousness is that it comes when she's somewhere she's never been before, an ordinarily innocuous location, except she hasn't been in one of these in years. or even seen one, really.

even more disturbing than that, something that takes her a minute to clock, is the mark of a handprint spanning over her clavicle. it looks almost like a scar, but she's got no idea what could have caused it - she can't remember being burned or struck by anything, and even if she could, this is such a specific shape that there's got to be something more to it.

her eyes eventually land on the clock as she makes her way to her feet - 3:33am. wary, she starts to move through the aisle and towards the door, finding a box of cookies she intends to leave money for on the way out -

and then the clock changes to 3:34, and she hears that she isn't alone.

jessica stills for a minute, listening carefully to her new companion as they move. they're moving slowly, and something drags behind them, and after a moment the box of cookies is abandoned on a shelf as she looks around for a potential weapon to strike a potential assailant with instead.

no one could ever accuse her of being graceful, or even light on her feet, but she does he best to make her footsteps silent as she moves backwards, into the shadows. she doesn't know what's on the other side of the aisle, but it doesn't sound like anything good. ]


B

[ an hour or two more into the night and jessica's finally managed to get her hands on something - a broken-off handle of a broom, nothing that's going to do much, especially with the way that thing wearing trish's face heals, but she'd much rather have it than not. she's gotten further away from the comfort of having the exit in plain view in favor of finding a back office to try and hole up in until whatever's been trying to attack them gives up on trying to find them.

(actually, she'd come in hoping to find a window to escape through, but it wasn't until after she and the person (or people) she'd urged to follow her had shut the door behind them that she'd realized there were no windows, and no doors but the one they've just come through). ]


Shit!

[ since they can't leave, she decides to take advantage of the setting. dropping the broom handle to the floor, she heads to the desk and starts combing through the items covering its surface. ]

Anything here that looks like it can be used as a weapon, take it with you. Staplers, books, whatever you think you can carry and throw at this thing. [ finding a paperweight, she hands it off to whoever's closest. ] If you can, try to hold on to something you think might go through the door.

EXIT STAGE LEFT

[ jessica tends to avoid self-reflection, but this is ridiculous.

she's taking a moment, back pressed against the rough back of a tree, eyes closed as she tries catching her breath. she knows she only has so long until her evil twin catches up with her and she's trying to use that time to think, but she's still shaken.

her eyes snap open when she hears footsteps rapidly approaching, and she freezes, pressing further back against the tree, as if she hopes she can be absorbed into it. but whoever comes around is someone who looks nothing like her, and she breathes out in relief, resisting the urge to sink to the ground. ]


Boy, am I glad to see someone who's not me.

WILDCARD

[ feel free to mix and match or choose something else entirely if these don't work for you, and feel free to PM me if you've got any questions! ]
cuscumber: velsmells (pic#14359042)

b

[personal profile] cuscumber 2021-09-25 09:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ Given that Shen Qingqiu has no idea what the fuck he's doing or how to fight without any of his usual gear and powers, he'd been more than happy to follow the woman taking charge into the back room. He's managed to arm himself with the classic weapon of every barfight, a broken-off wine bottle with its edges sharp enough to cut. Sharp but relatively clean; it's become obvious over the course of the last hour or so that he's incredibly reluctant to hurt the young man chasing him down, preferring to run when he can and only striking out when there's no other choice.

Still, even he can tell that the time for pure defense is officially over, as he examines the office they're trapped in. He pockets the paperweight and starts searching the room for anything useful as well, flipping the chair over and unscrewing the legs. ]


The desk seems sturdy enough - if we flip it over, we may be able to buy a little time by using it as a barricade.

[ Time for what, it's hard to imagine, as they don't exactly have anything on hand he can see that'll cause major damage from behind a desk. It's not as if they're about to find a gun in the drawers - or are they? He has heard things about America, if that's even where they are now....]

I never thought I'd say this, but I find myself hoping this shopowner has a propensity for violence.

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kingperfect: (pic#15005662)

nikolai lantsov | grishaverse

[personal profile] kingperfect 2021-09-25 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
the mysterious ghost car

[ while taking stock of both himself and his new environment — which rest assured he is Deeply Unsettled by; the only thing keeping him from McLosing it is that he has had prior falling into a ghibli movie-style parallel world — his eye catches the car.

now, the only thing interesting to him is the car. (when the attention span fixates.) he approaches, peering through the windows… is that his stuff in the backseat? we've obviously entered dream territory. (there's a lot that could be improved about this dream.) as he makes his way to the drivers seat to make sense of the controls, there's a noise in this distance. he pokes his head back out of the car, only to see —

is that — no. first of all, his brother is dead, and second of all, why is he coming at him with a… whirring blade? a saw? no, you know what, this somehow makes perfect sense. in a dream logic kind of way.

lacking any other weapon and acting purely on instinct, he shuts that car door and will now earn his drivers license. the bad news for everyone is that while nikolai understands the basics of controlling modes of transportation, a modern car isn't one of them. on a scale of olivia rodrigo to cher horowitz failing her driver's exam, nikolai is princess mia driving the 'stang.

while he's backing straight into his would-be murderer brother, he spots you coming up to this… scene. this lovely scene of him backing straight up into his brother with a speed that makes it not really clear if it was intentional or not. ]


If you don't move, you'll be next! For him or me, possibly. I would make it quicker, though.

exit on stage left

[ after an exciting night of repetitive fratricide, nikolai makes it into town. as he starts to explore — there are major differences compared to any other place he'd traveled, and he'd like to come back and reexamine that another time — there was a light he only caught a half-glimpse of (exit?) followed by

himself? in front of him? ]


You know, I never realized how handsome I was before. Are you tailo—

[ his doppelganger cuts him off, smiling the fox-like slant they shared in the split second it takes to tackle him, pinning actual nikolai to the ground. he calls out, in their same voice ]

As great as it is that there are two pf me, my imposter is trying to kill me. Can I get some help?

[ nikolai is writhing under his doppelganger straddling him, trying to push him off while not-kolai's hand is crushing his throat. ]

wildcard

[ if you're interested in anything else, let me know! :> ]
cuscumber: (shit)

exit on stage left

[personal profile] cuscumber 2021-09-25 09:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ So far, this has not been a great first night in town for Shen Qingqiu. Chased by his terrifying disciple, chased by something wearing his body, chased by himself again - 0/10, would not recommend! So when he overhears the conversation between two identical figures wrestling on the ground in a scene very similar to the one he just recently escaped, he feels a pang of great sympathy and heads over, withdrawing his reclaimed sword to place the blade against the top one's neck.

...a plan that has perhaps not been well thought out, he quickly realizes, as he stares down at two complete strangers without the foggiest idea of who's the real one or how to tell. Well, the one currently doing the choking is probably more suspicious, but maybe the tables flipped, he doesn't know! Still, he hasn't come all this way only to look like a total idiot (even though he definitely feels like one), so he puts on an even expression and tries to pretend this had been his intention all along. Bullshitting his way through life hasn't failed him yet, it won't fail him now! ]


Normally this would be the part where I ask you to tell me something only you would know, but seeing as how we've never met...should I just assume the real one is the more handsome one, then?

[ Is now really the time for sarcasm...then again, if you can't be sarcastic in a life-or-death situation, when can you be? ]

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chengluan: ( tw: karekareo ) (( 고운 마음도 다 가져가세요 ))

liu qingge | scum villain's self saving system

[personal profile] chengluan 2021-09-25 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
> CHECK YOUR LIST TWICE
>5:15 AM
[ The sky outside the store is slowly lightening by degrees - he can make out the faint, indistinctive shapes in the darkness, now. Liu Qingge touches a (bloodied) hand to the surface of the glass rather curiously; it must be some kind of spiritual contraption - something he was too powerless to break through, being trapped within the array - but it was a strange thing to see regardless, something that's like a panel of ice but not cold as the apperance would suggest.

skkkrrrrrrrrrrrr--

It seems he's lingered too long in one place, because there it is again - the heavy dragging of clothing soaked in blood, the rucksack hanging from an arm knocking into the broken cans and glass spread across the floor of the store, as the Thing makes its way towards Liu Qingge as if it knows just exactly where he is standing.

It rounds the corner even as Liu Qingge stands there at the ready; a tall figure, taller than him, cloaked in dark robes embroidered in silver. The gaping wound in its head has healed now but the blood still remains, running down the side of its handsome face (skin pale, too pale, eyes in their sockets like burning embers) as it slowly turns its head towards Liu Qingge. Spotting him, its mouth curves in a smile - gentle and warm and understanding, but why does it feel so wrong? - and abruptly charges, belying the slow, ungainly movement from before.

Liu Qingge doesn't waste any time; in a flash, he is turning away to climb up the shelves again, quickly jumping over the aisle to the next as the Thing crashes into the window where he'd been standing previously.

He jumps down to the ground as it turns around, hiding from the sight; it knows he is there though, if the crashing of the shelving is any indication - bottles of tomato sauce and pickles falling to the floor, some of them shattering like gory B-grade horror mess - and Liu Qingge braces his shoulders against the shelf as the whole thing jostles again from the other side. Noticing another such as him nearby, Liu Qingge is going to grunt and glare, even as he is pushed back a step and another from the Thing's attempts to physically force its way through the shelving. ]


What're you staring at? Move!


> THE MYSTERIOUS GHOST CAR
[ Alright, Liu Qingge has never seen a car in his entire life, much less know how to drive one.

If you needed a vehicle to get around, there were horses. Otherwise given a choice he'd have preferred his sword in this particular situation (and before, in the store), being able to be used for both purposes of attacking and means of transport. But beggars can't be choosers, considering the situation right now - with some lumbering, shapeless creatures make their way in the fog towards them -- and it isn't as if he can explain himself and his lack of knowledge about this particular contraption when there is someone screaming at his ear to drive drive DRIVE as if he should know.

Clutching the steering wheel tightly, Liu Qingge jams his foot down on one pedal then another, keeping it on when the car screeches and shoots backwards as if a horse who's been stung by a wasp. The boot of the car slams into a figure, then another, a thunk-THUNK under the wheels making him start and swivel the steering wheel abruptly. The car veers wildly before crashing into a tree with a shock big enough to knock them both over - if it weren't for the hiss of the airbags bursting in front of them to soften the impact. ]


......

[ There is a crunch of metal scraping against each other as Liu Qingge grunts, shifting so that he can kick open the door, crushed and shapeless from slamming into a boulder. He can barely make out the dim shapes of the bodies - they aren't moving, but from experience he knows they will, soon. Turning back to the other, he is going to reach in and help them clamber out, the car beginning to smoulder a little dangerously - not that Liu Qingge notices! What do you mean that isn't what it's supposed to do! ]

I said I don't know how.

> WILD CARD
[ hit me with anything and we will wing the heck out of it!
have fun with an ancient chinese guy who has zero idea how any of these modern technology works! feel free to PM! ]
taintedpeony: (icon50)

Let's go with A because how do car?

[personal profile] taintedpeony 2021-09-25 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
[Surely this was hell, the gods were punishing him for his various sins. Jin Guangyao had been running for hours and was pressed against a shelf after incapacitating the one chasing after him to catch his breath momentarily.

He would never want to hurt him. But it was obvious by now that the man in the white robes with the headband with embroidered clouds on it was not the person he had thought he was, but some kind of wretched monster wearing his face. Earlier he had used a metal pole to skewer him through the neck but he just dragged it along with him. He was momentarily caught against something though.]


Don't tell me there is more than one in here!

[He cried out in exasperation at the man in front of him. Picking up what looked like a heavy paper weight that he could chuck at it if it started again.]

ghost car

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ibiza: (eye roll ugh)

Margo Hanson | The Magicians (end of S4)

[personal profile] ibiza 2021-09-25 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ check your list twice ]

When Margo realizes where she is the feeling is dizzying. How much time has passed since she was standing in Castle Whitespire? She doesn’t even remember falling asleep, but suddenly, now that she’s opening her eyes, she’s in a new place. A damn eerie and unsettling place. Margo has been inside supermarkets at ungodly hours before and they’ve felt wrong to her with their fluorescent lighting and linoleum floors, but this is a whole new level of wrong. The very atmosphere of this place makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She glances above the main entrance and narrows her eyes at the time the clock reads. 3:33 AM. If her Mystical Theology course at Brakebills taught her anything, it’s that 3:33 is a significant time. When you catch yourself looking at the clock at that time it’s supposed to mean you’re about to make a decision or the Holy Trinity is watching over you depending on your belief system, naturally. In this freaky place, Margo can’t imagine herself feeling close to any higher power. Maybe angel numbers are just bullshit they teach to undergrads studying magic.

The time changes and something, or someone, breaks the silence. Margo can hear the distinct sound of footsteps hitting the linoleum. Her heart pounds faster in her chest as the steps grow closer to her. Still, even as her anxiety builds, her curiosity gets the best of her. She creeps around the corner to look into the next aisle to catch a glimpse of the stranger. Her breath catches in her chest when she sees him – Prince Micah of the Floating Mountain looking very much alive… and angry. Behind him he carries some kind of ruck sack, but she could care less about that. With a murderous gleam in his eye, he comes charging after Margo, and she does the only thing she can think to do – she runs like hell, winding around corners until she bumps into another person with a small, startled shriek.

”Fuck!” Margo hisses in a low voice near a whisper. “There’s a… Shit, I don’t even know. Zombie? He’s gonna kill us both if we don’t get out of here.”


[ exit on stage left ]

It’s as if finding her way in this place is impossible. The moment Margo spots the Starbucks, a beacon of familiarity in an utterly, disturbingly foreign world, she realizes that she’s still lost, and she isn’t the only one. She’s in a sea of people all wandering aimlessly around the business as if they’re trying to find their way by trial and error. Should it be comforting that she isn’t alone in this? Because it isn’t, not really.

Then she sees it. As if things weren’t weird enough as they were, an exit light blinks on and off up above, catching Margo’s attention. After all, it isn’t every day you see a literal sign appear out of nothingness. It’s what appears next, though, that really takes her breath away.

Standing not very far away from Margo is… Margo? Her other self appears lost and is very distinctly lacking her right eye as if the fairy queen had just stolen it from her. The real Margo finds herself staring openmouthed at the display, not knowing what to make of it. As she moves closer, it moves closer, and every other movement Margo makes is mimicked as well. Once she gets within arm’s reach, though, her double practically pounces on her, attacking.

“Son of a— A little help, here??” Margo calls out to no one in particular as she fights off her doppelganger.


[ wildcard ]

[ anything you want, you got it! ]
Edited 2021-09-25 14:44 (UTC)
blackelms: (pic#14634901)

check your list twice

[personal profile] blackelms 2021-09-26 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
3:33AM isn't precisely the witching hour, but it's close enough to count. It's a godawful, inexplicable time to suddenly find yourself in a grocery store. Darlington has made himself acquainted with them over time: scraping together the cheapest meals he can, stocking up on refried beans and ramen.

But this one feels wrong.

He remembers— something. Being sucked through the dark maw of a portal, and finding himself alone in the darkness until, somehow, he's here, of all the banal places for a portal to spit you back out. He's been wandering the aisles, absentmindedly touching the crook of his neck (where there's the mark of a hand, unbeknownst to him), when a woman comes barreling around the corner and they collide full-tilt. He's already apologising politely even though she's the one who ran into him.

The young man she's just run into is in his twenties; dark brown hair, light eyes, well-heeled northeastern American voice and genteel expression despite the bizarre situation.

"Zombie?" Darlington asks. And then, perhaps contrary to expectations, he just sounds faintly annoyed about it. "God, the first lesson for every student is to not mess around with necromancy— What did it look like?"

He doesn't realise the urgency yet.

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exit on stage left

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sunmon: (Default)

alina starkov (shadow & bone)

[personal profile] sunmon 2021-09-25 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
01. CHECK YOUR LIST
[ alina wanders the aisles under flickering fluorescent lights in a daze, her fingers brushing over boxes and bags and jars of packaged food. bewildered by the surreality. the buzzing sound of electricity nags at the base of her skull, a sort of hum that her ears can't place.

another sound overtakes it. a slow drag. something sliding against the strange flooring, which is both tile and not, stone and not. she has been through enough, of late, to know that she would rather be alone here than in the company of whoever that is. she backs towards the meat counter, trying to keep her footsteps slow and quiet, but the leather of her boots almost squeaks on the linoleum, and —

and it doesn't matter. the noise was coming towards her anyway. but when it comes into view. alina stops running. she tilts her head. stills.
]

... Mal? [ what is that, with him? a rucksack? it's the most absurd thing to focus on. she hasn't seen him in months. she should be worried about more than that, should be angry that he hasn't answered her letters. and she will be. she'll get to that. but. ] What are you doing?

[ hoarding supplies is her first guess, but he's stomping towards her with purpose now. driven. and alina isn't moving. ]

Say something. [ she bites it out, brittle. he hasn't said anything for months, why now? ]

02. GHOST CAR
[ alina investigates the car with a well-earned wariness, walking the perimeter around it with her arms folded against her chest. is it alive? is it a cart? it's making a noise like a train, but it doesn't smell of coal. just something unrecognizable — an itchy scent, almost dusty.

another engine kicks in. she lifts her head. there, in the woods. a fjerdan witchhunter.

fortunately, she's not alone in the middle of the road. she grabs for her unexpected companion, tugging on their shirt sleeve.
]

We — We have to go. [ she starts pushing them past the car, as if foregoing the consideration entirely. there's no time to worry about that thing now. they need to make tracks. now. ]
morozova: @frathouse (pic#15024733)

01 - check list

[personal profile] morozova 2021-09-25 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Alina?

( his thoughts are confused and more than a little angry. as is only reasonable when you find yourself in strange, unfamiliar places with no memory of having been brought there. there's a scar of some kind, fingers wrapped around his wrist, that would offer some clue if only he could puzzle it out.

but then she'd spoke — high, strained. overcome with some emotion that could be fear or anger. it hardly matters. he's already moving, searching for her. quick, quiet steps along the row upon row of shadows until he can find her.

if, indeed, it is her. )

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oyasumis: <user name="graywaves" site=plurk.com> (Default)

sunny ( omori ) omori spoilers!!

[personal profile] oyasumis 2021-09-25 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
I. Grocery List 
[ When Sunny awakes, he thinks he is in WHITESPACE once more. The bright lights and white ceiling easily lead him to this conclusion. But when he notices that the ceiling has actual details, he quickly forces himself up to his feet. He looks down at his hands and sees that he is no longer his other self. He's still pale, but not Omori levels of pale. Unfortunately, he is still Sunny. Just as he zeroes in on the odd bruising on his arm, he hears SOMETHING nearby. 

Splat. The sound of wet footsteps. 

Sunny slowly turns his head to where the sound came from. It is closer than nearby.

It is right behind him. 

The sound stops just as the creature does. But it's not a creature, is it? Because he recognizes it. He recognizes her. There's no way he would be ever to forget what she looks like no matter what form she takes. 

His sister. Mari. 

Water drips from her long black hair and pure white dress. A puddle of water begins to form underneath her. It's almost some form of proof that she is no longer a figment of his imagination any longer. She has been given life. She is real. And she has everything she needs to end his life here and now. 

But even as she rushes forward, a familiar STEAK KNIFE in her hand
, Sunny can only stand there in shock as he wonders how all of this is even possible. ]
II. Starring Sunny
[ The next time Sunny comes to, he is in the middle of a playground. But for once, he isn't alone. There are a few others around who seem to be just as confused as he is. And while any normal person would immediately gravitate towards other human beings, Sunny was not the exact definition of normal. He only recently began interacting with his real life friends again. Having to talk to others while in such a stressful situation is a bit too much for him. At least for right now. Now that he is away from that horrid grocery store with his trusty knife in hand, Sunny can finally try to take back control of his situation. 

It's a nice thought for the few seconds that it exists. Because right as he thinks about gaining just a little bit of courage, a figure begins to approach him from a couple of feet away. It is a boy around his age who is just as pale as he. He is wearing a hospital gown with bandages covering both his head and one of his eyes. It takes a bit but as Sunny squints his eyes, he comes to the horrifying realization that the boy walking towards him is him. It's Sunny. But in a weird way, it's not. Because the boy opens his mouth and speaks his first words. ] 

I have something to tell you. 

[ Sunny's heart skips a beat, a feeling of dread sinking down deep into his chest. He gets his knife ready, his eyebrows furrowed and his hand gripping the hilt as tightly as he can. Whoever this is, he needs to be dealt with. Immediately. ]
III. Wild Card
[ Hit me with anything! ]
thricefold: (022. and i want you so badly.)

( prompt: grocery list. )

[personal profile] thricefold 2021-09-25 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Get away from him.

[ zita has not had the best of evenings so far - torn from her comfortable home in the carnival, chased down by a sister-in-law who (understandably, a nasty voice hisses at her) wants her dead, and left battered-and-bruised after their long and arduous fight for her life. she wants nothing more but to rest somewhere and recover from her injuries since her magic doesn't seem to work here.

but there's no way she'll allow a child to be hurt when she's around.

zita moves in front of the boy with surprising speed, grabbing the girl's wrist and arm to try and wrest the weapon out of her grip. the clamminess of the girl's wet skin takes her by surprise, though, and the hesitation is enough to allow the girl to try and thrash out of zita's hold, nothing more.

even when she has a clear and vulnerable target in front of her, the girl seems deadset on the boy and only the boy. to zita's displeasure and worry. ]


Go and hide! [ she addresses the boy now, trying to haul the girl back so there's distance between them. ] I'll take care of this- I promise. Go!
cuscumber: tw: d_g_b_n (pic#14359033)

Shen Qingqiu | Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

[personal profile] cuscumber 2021-09-25 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
(i; check your list twice)

[ Okay. Okay, okay, okay. There are plenty of reasons, Shen Qingqiu thinks, why he might suddenly be in a grocery store with no recollection of how he got there when the last thing he remembers is being on the run in ancient fucking China. Maybe he failed his transmigration so badly that the System booted him back to his original world without any warning. Maybe he's still trapped in the nightmare realm Luo Binghe created. Maybe he accidentally wandered into a field of suspiciously pollinated flowers and now he's tripping balls!

Whatever the case, the key here is clearly to suppress all his panic and pretend he knows what he's doing. Cautiously, he gets to his feet and starts investigating the surroundings for any clues as to where he is and what the hell is going on - somewhere Western, judging by the products on the shelves, though he can't say he recognizes any of the brands....

That plan lasts right up until he hears heavy treads heading his way and catches a glimpse of flowing black robes around the corner of an aisle. Instantly, without even sparing a glance behind him, he's dashing towards the nearest window in sight, grabbing the heaviest castiron pan he can find along the way. Fuck! Figure shit out later, escape now!

Anyone near the windows and doing a little investigation of their own might see - and nearly get run over by - a man dressed in archaic Chinese robes rushing towards them with a look of intense determination on his face. With all his strength, he hurls the pan into the glass of the windowpane - only to watch in embarrassed shock as it bounces off and clatters on the floor, not making even a scratch. Clearing his throat, he pastes a nonchalant expression on his face, as if his super humiliating failure had been totally according to plan. ]


Well. That could have probably gone better.

(ii; mysterious ghost car)

[ Somehow, he's managed to make it out of the grocery store with all his limbs intact. How, even he's not sure of, but whatever! Level one passed, onto the next no doubt horrifying stage!

The empty road in front of him is certainly ominous, the idling car even more so. That's...absolutely a trap, isn't it? He's seen this movie before, probably there's a killer laying down in the backseat who'll miraculously remain invisible right up until he looks in the rearview window...not to mention the fact that he's still fully in his role as someone from ancient China who definitely wouldn't have the first clue of what a car even is, let alone how to drive one.

Then he hears footsteps echoing down the road and changes his mind. Fuck it! This is not the time to be concerned about remaining IC! This is the time to flee! Never mind that he never got his driver's license back in the modern world, he'll figure it out on the fly like usual!

The basic teachings of Mario Kart get him hurling down the road, but his skills are abruptly put to the test when he spots someone being stalked by their own personal serial killer. A test he miserably fails, as he tries to brake and reverse and do a 180 turn all at once, resulting in the car spinning wildly before coming to a screeching halt less than a foot away from the person he's trying to "help". To make this disaster worse, it's at this point that Shen Qingqiu decides to break out the shotgun he'd found in the back, a tree exploding some fifty yards away as he aims for and utterly misses whatever armed serial killer is approaching.

From the broken window, a man dressed in the ancient robes of someone who should clearly be nowhere near a car leans out and gives a cheerful wave, wearing the calm smile of someone who has passed through the turbulent storms of batshit panic and is now floating in the serene waters of who-gives-a-fuck-anymore. ]


Hello. Would you like a ride?

[ Judging by the fresh skid marks on the road, you honestly might be better off taking your chances with the mindless murdering machine fast approaching. ]

(iii; wildcard)

[ got any other prompts for a millennial pretending to be an ancient chinese wizard? hit me up with whatever or pm me if you want to discuss! ]
einselective: (u what now)

(i; check your list twice)

[personal profile] einselective 2021-09-28 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Could have gone better -- and made a hell of a lot of noise. Marian, who'd been trying to still her breath after fleeing at the first sign of her own pursuer on the other side of the store, skittishly peers around a corner.

The man's costume is pretty out there, and raises a whole set of questions on its own, but considering there are much bigger problems, now isn't the time to comment on it. At least it's another normal person, and not that eyeless ...thing ...that is still around here somewhere.]


Keep it down!

She hisses, glancing up at the wall clock.]

Something's coming this way. Come on.

[She gestures, beckoning for this definite weirdo to follow her. Unfortunately, it looks like she's planning on heading the way Shen Qingqiu just came from.]

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mysterious ghost car

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