TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[cursedmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

A Blood Offering

---

You wake up cozy in bed at the Saturn Motel. As you observe the room you may realize that it looks a little dated. Or, perhaps from your point of view the lamp and TV are wildly futuristic. Or, like Goldilocks, it may seem just right: close to the world you just left behind. Either way, you just had a very strange dream (see the arrival scenario) and now you're here. And you're not alone: there's a bed next to yours and someone else is waking up just like you are.

You can chat for a while if you like, but if you try to leave you'll find the door is firmly locked and no amount of kicking, punching, or hitting it with an object will do you any good. Instead, there's a letter on the nightstand which reads:

"Good morning and welcome to your new home!

You may be wondering why you're trapped in this room. Fear not, the door will open easily if you offer a bit of blood. More than a few drops but not enough to be a serious wound. A handprint's worth will do, let's say, and it only needs to come from one of you.

I'll let you sort that out yourselves. See you on the other side.

Sincerely,
The Mayor"

And indeed, a handprint's worth of blood pressed against the door will unlock it and let you out into the world. Do you volunteer your own blood? Do you take it from the other person by force? It's up to you! But there's no food in here, so you better figure it out eventually.

Roller Rink

---

As a celebration of your new lives here (and an apology for the whole blood offering thing - they were just testing something out, really) the Mayor has invited everyone to the Crazy Eight Roller Rink for a private, after-hours party.

Attendance isn't mandatory, but it is heavily encouraged so that you can meet your fellow Cursed and know who's in on the whole secret. It'll help you down the line at some point if your Curse gets out of control and you need someone to wrangle you.

As a reward, everyone who shows up and completes at least one lap around the roller rink (you must be wearing skates, but you can crawl the lap if you can't get the hang of them) will receive a free walkman with a mystery tape inside. The color, style, and mystery tape your character gets are up to you.

Mallrats

---

Everyone loves the mall! Right? Right! And this group of newcomers is lucky enough to be here for the White Pines Mall Grand Opening celebration! Feel free to walk around the mall and partake in sales galore, check out the attractions, or just get to know the layout of the place.

The Mayor has given everyone a gift card for $100 that can be used anywhere in the mall as long as they attend the Grand Opening.

They also strongly suggest that you familiarize yourself with the mall and its layout, just in case you ever get stuck there for a while and have to compete with others for food and resources. But that probably won't happen.

Extra Info

---

The test drive meme and the IC intro log will have the same prompts, and threads between two accepted characters can count as game canon.

The first prompt is flexible: technically you're supposed to be with one other person, but if you want to do larger groups that's fine.

Rooms at the Saturn Motel initially contain two beds for the prompt, but upon leaving and returning characters will find that they all have their own rooms with one bed. If you want a roommate, someone better be ready to sleep on the floor or snuggle up! The room doesn't have to look exactly like the reference image as long as it's not too fancy and suitably dated.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[cursedmods]

If you have any questions about the TDM specifically, ask them here. General questions about the game can be asked on the FAQ.

[fawcetted]

hi mods!

super quick q: just wondering ... is there anyone working at the motel of the first prompt if characters were to call room service for help, for example?

and once they get out of their room, is it just business as usual?

thanks!

CURSE BRAINSTORMING

[cursedmods]

Need ideas for a curse? Have an idea but want to workshop it a bit? Post here and other players can jump in to help you out!

See the FAQ for information about curses.

[90secondsafter]

So. Less needing to brainstorm the Curse itself. But more so the trigger of said Curse. Had a few thoughts, leaning into Nell feeling like she's not being believed. Nell trying to hide the "ugly" parts of her past, which I imagine would be talked about quite a bit in the first few months of things. Her sleep paralysis moving to be more common place, like the scene involving her and Luke in her car in the rain—that could trigger it. (But then what would trigger the paralysis...) Her fearing something... Her fear that things are going too good, she's too happy, something bad has got to be on its way.

Steve Harrington || Stranger Things

[stevieboy]

i. blood offering;

---

What kind of sick joke is this?

[ Steve, of course, ignores the cryptic note. He jiggles the doorknob, then pulls, then pushes. He looks visibly annoyed as the door doesn’t give, maybe even a little embarrassed, too, as he glances back at the stranger in here with him. ]

There’s probably something we can use to jimmy it open.

[ Which is what he says as he starts opening drawers and the closet, looking for maybe a crowbar or a toolkit or some other random object someone might have left behind by chance. Steve doesn’t believe for a moment that they need blood to get out of here. It’s a fear tactic at best.

Right? ]

Maybe we can pick the lock?

[ Because it’s bullshit. Right??? ]

ii. roller rink;

---

[ It’s not really Steve’s thing, but, hey, why not go to a party thrown by some jerk who made you bleed to escape a locked room? Makes total sense. But the idea of meeting people is too appealing to pass up. Steve is, after all, a sociable person and he doesn’t exactly want to feel alone in this place. So he accepts the invite and goes.

As he takes his skates and sits down to put them on, he snorts. ]

Just one lap? Not much of a challenge.

[ Though he does glance to the rink, just to make sure there’s not any unseen traps lurking. ]

Guess this place doesn’t have great skaters.

iii. mall rats;

---

[ The best place in any mall is arguably the food court. Steve would rather spend his money on a pile of questionable mall food and hang around there than actually go shopping, and he's sure as hell not going to the arcade (no offence to people who like arcades).

Besides, everyone knows the cool people hang out in food courts. That's just cool people law or something.

So there he is, sipping a milkshake obnoxiously loudly. It's no U.S.S. Butterscotch but he figures it's fine, finding a weird and surprising comfort in seeing another ice cream parlour. He'd hated his job at Scoops but in hindsight it maybe wasn't so bad. And Starcourt had been a cool mall before it turned out to be a cover for all the shady shit. Steve's determined to let himself enjoy it. ]

Hey, you should try the burger place. [ Said helpfully to anyone looking around at their options. ] Great fries.

iv. wildcard;

---

Choose your own adventure. Any prompt or anything you’re feeling that isn’t up there, go crazy~ The world is our oyster.

1

[maritorious]

[Nancy is not too terribly amused by this situation. Sitting on the bed, she watches her companion as she holds on to the note.]

Well, we could always try. D'you know how to pick a lock?

[Her accent is the rough Cockney accent of a girl from her time and place in history. Her face looks rougher, black eye and bruising. Her hair's a complete mess, but she reaches up and pulls out a hair pin. Standing, she approaches the door.]

'Cause I'm real good.

billy hargrove / stranger things

[driving]

1 / a blood offering

[ This was a step up from bleeding out on the floor of Starcourt Mall, and that was about the only thing keeping Billy from flying into a rage and trying to break through the walls with his fists right now.

The whole blood offering thing rubs him the wrong way, but luckily enough there's someone else in the room with him. He reads the letter, sets it down, and cracks his knuckles. ]

Alright, amigo. Let's get this over with.

[ He means 'I'm going to punch you so we get enough blood', but whether or not his fellow abductee interprets it that way is up to them. ]

2 / roller rink

[ This was stupid. Roller rinks were stupid. What are they, ten years old? He'd rather be hanging out in the back alley behind this place right now, in all honesty. But a free walkman was a free walkman, and lord knows he can't abide by someone thinking he's scared or can't skate if he sits it out.

He's not exactly...good at this. Good enough not to fall on his ass, sure, but he's barreling through without much regard for the other patrons. ]

Coming through! [ He shouts from just behind someone else, and that's their only warning that he's about to crash right into them if they don't swerve out of the way ASAP. ]

3 / mallrats (outside the mall)

[ Malls don't exactly hold a lot of positive memories for Billy right now. On one hand, he knows that this isn't Starcourt, and on the off chance that thing that was inside of him is here, he can't feel it anymore.

But gift card or no, he can't manage to drag himself inside. There's this lingering, irrational fear that as soon as those doors open he's going to be right back where he was before he got dragged here. So instead, he just leans up against the wall near the entrance with his arms crossed, a lit cigarette between his lips.

He's just taking a smoke break, that's all. He'll go inside after this cigarette is done. Or maybe just one more. ]

wildcard

[ anything goes, feel free to hit me up at dandymott for plotting ]

#3

[m1895]

[ This is a lot. All of it. Fortunately, he's at least arrived with the usual pack of cigarettes in the breast pocket of his EMT's uniform, a small blessing—he adjourns himself shortly after visiting exactly one store to take a smoke break and try to get a handle on his nerves.

They're making him pay for what he did, and the Mayor is in the right. He doesn't want to despite the moral understanding that he should—nobody wants to be cursed or punished or whatever else, on a more animal level of instinct, no matter how just they know it is. He can't shake the desire to survive any more than he can shed the desire to face retribution, so here he is, fumbling for a cigarette before he's even out of the automatic doors of the mall.

He's not alone when he lights a smoke and takes the first drag— as he gets closer, he realizes that the other figure loitering in the same space is a teenager. Not a concept he ever really had, but too young to smoke, they now know. Nobody really should, apparently, but at least he's 33 and already dead.

He turns his head to address the boy, letting his own lit cigarette hang between two fingers (mercifully bloodless for the time being). ]

Hey. You shouldn't do that. You're too young to smoke.

[ The uniform might lend some authority, were it not for the fact that here he stands, also smoking. ]

deely newberg — original character

[nauseam]

☞ 001. NO-TELL MOTEL !

[ Deely's already read the letter on the nightstand, and has come to the conclusion that whoever wrote it must think she's dumb as shit. In-fucking-sane, she is not doing that under any circumstances. What is this, a Saw trap? No. She's just gonna sit right here, reclined on this outdated old bed with her arms folded across her chest, lips pursed, and wait until "The Mayor" gives up with this crazy bloodletting shit. She's stubborn as hell and will dig her feet even when most other reasonable people would have long ago capitulated. Deely can outwait anyone. ]

Hey, I just had a great idea: fuck this.

☞ 002. ROLLER ROAST !

Don't worry, you look so cool right now.

[ Deely's hanging out by the side of the rink, elbows on the low wall that surrounds it, watching everyone who's decided to throw caution to the wind, hop in there and start rolling. Deely herself has no intention of joining them, at least not yet; she'd much rather hang out on the sidelines, slowly erode people's self-confidence by yelling stuff at them, and possibly witness a few pratfalls. Much more fun. ]

I bet nobody else can tell it's your first time. You're barely shaking at all!

☞ 003. PINBALL WIZARD !

[ Pinball was always Deely's favourite game in an arcade. This does not mean she was ever good at it. At this point it's basically a money pit into which Deely is pouring that $100 she was so graciously given for showing up, but it's kind of like gambling, in that she simply can't seem to stop herself. When someone comes up to the machine, whether it's to stand in line or just to watch, she doesn't look up from the ball bouncing around inside. ]

There's like a million other games in this place, why don't you make like a bee and— Aw, shit! [ Her last ball drops into the hole and disappears, and the machine plays a frankly depressing little stinger. ] That was your fault.

☞ 005. FASHION SHOW !

Oh, wow, this place is awesome.

[ Judging by the tone of Deely's voice, it's pretty clear she thinks exactly the opposite as she's standing outside Oblivion, which looks to her like Hot Topic before it started selling Disney merch. She has her arms folded as she stares at the window display, taking in the mannequin wearing a trenchcoat, a studded belt and a pair of black pants so tight they look painted on. ]

I've always wanted to look like Neo from The Matrix trying to sneak into an R-rated movie.

☞ 005. WILDCARD !

[ character info here, sorry it's still a wip. tl;dr: late 90s child actor is now washed up adult with way too much trauma. hit me up crowders if you wanna do something else. ]

fashion show;

[stevieboy]

Like who?

[ Steve was pretty easily bribed by the giftcard. Maybe he can find himself a new Members Only jacket, or some Ray-Bans, or something suitably cool. He's not even going to stop and look at Oblivion until he hears her say something as he walks by, and, yeah, of course he has to butt in and find out what she's talking about. ]

What's a matrix?

Matt Murdock | Marvel 616

[motiontostrike]

a blood offering

It’s not the realization that he can’t remember falling asleep that’s most distressing. Matt scarcely sleeps any more. If it’s not his own tormented guilt keeping him awake, it’s the sounds of anguish from those around him — the ones they don’t even know he can hear. But when the dream comes to an end, everything is quiet now. The stillness is beyond that which he’s ever known. It’s that gentle sense of tranquility that brings Matt Murdock lurching to consciousness. For a man who’s used to an incessant cacophony of sounds and scents and vibrations, the total absence of anything at all is all the proof he needs that something is terribly wrong.

Not entirely nothing; not exactly. The bed beneath his shoulders is softer than anything he’s known in months, and the carpet between his toes is plush and warm. It’s a far cry from a prison cell. Under a different set of circumstances entirely, Matt might even call it hospitable. But with the steady realization that he is blind — well and truly without sight — it’s hard to appreciate these little niceties.

His first instinct is to reach out for anything with which to orient himself, but the particulars of his current environment are further away than they’ve ever been. Matt stifles his instinct to call out. He can hear his own hands on his skin, but not his heartbeat, nor the heartbeat of anyone else. If there is anyone at all. Head swimming with static, he takes one bold step forward and promptly rams his shin into the nightstand. The table lamp sways ominously, then crashes to the floor and shatters.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The Man Without Fear. Who would believe it now?

mall rats

What better way to get to know his new confines than through a little bit of retail therapy? Matt certainly has a taste for the finer things, and after his stint in prison he's not apt to say no to a bit of shopping. Especially with the offer of a gift card. It's something of a trial by fire for the man, when the world around him seems so flat and so dull. But he takes his time to learn his surroundings as he browses.

paradiso

No surprise that among the first of what Matt locates is one of the most extravagant clothing stores the mall has to offer. It'll drain the entirety of his gift card to accessorize his feet alone, but that doesn't stop Matt from flicking through the racks and running his fingers over the various fabrics.

"What about this one?" Matt asks no one in particular, fishing off the rack a coordinating navy blue double-breasted pinstripe suit with gold buttons. (Emblazoned, of course, with the telltale Paradiso logo.)

Slice 'n' Dice Pizza

It's sure as hell no New York slice, but it's hot and cheesy and a far cry better than anything they serve up from the kitchens of federal prison. Matt's got two slices of cheese balanced precariously on a takeaway tray as he navigates his way through the food court. The cheery music coming from the beckoning indoor carousel is a good homing beacon. Unfortunately, the riders spilling off the little plastic horses are a bit tipsy from their tour, and when one steps in Matt's path he loses the tray and flings those two bubbling slices of pizza splat into the middle of their chest.

wildcard

[Prefer something different entirely? Come at me with whatever you've got.]

blood offering

[90secondsafter]

Nell had woken before him, taken a glance at the sleeping form in the other bed, and decided the strangeness that was their new situation didn't warrant her waking him. Instead, she'd read over the note and frowned at it as if she could change what it said. It had fluttered to the ground and was still there, she'd made her way to the attached bathroom to see if there was anything to wash her face with.

Honestly, she'd only been in there for maybe two minutes when she hears the thud and crash from out in the room. She exits the small bathroom, a worried look on her face, "Is everything okay?"

Aside from... Well, everything else.

vasiliy yegorovich ardankin | original — historical/revenant

[m1895]

[ vasiliy's a former stalin-era NKVD interrogator who played the 'good cop' to coerce prisoners into signing false confessions by acting as though he was speaking to their best interest, executed in 1940 when nikolai yezhov's appointees were purged - who then woke up in the middle of nowhere in the winter of 2015, alive, unscathed, and with documentation claiming he was born in 1985. in the canonpoint i'm pulling him from he's been out in the world for 3 years and has started to come to grips with what he did/started to unlearn stalinism, and is an EMT in chicago in an attempt to feel like he's balancing some of the cosmic harm he did. he comes with warnings for references to the yezhovshchina, torture, etc.; his curse is starting out with randomly bleeding hands as a manifestation of his guilt. it's worth noting that he speaks english despite it being his second language instead of defaulting to russian and letting the world handle it because he knows that his patterns of speaking are anachronistic for someone ostensibly born in the 80s. info here, permissions here. ]

1. MY TUITION'S PAID BY BLOOD (I MIGHT DESERVE YOUR FATE OR WORSE)
blood offering | cw: blood.

[ The blood starts as pinpricks. Brilliant, oxygenated, as though his cuticles have been nicked somehow—one finger, then the next, until his right hand is dripping onto the dubiously clean sheets over his lap. Vasiliy frowns and reaches for the box of tissues next to the fake wood finish radio on the bedside table—then a lump in the covers on the bed next to him stirs. Shit, he's not alone. Fuck. Last time he came back he was alone, in the middle of nowhere, on snow like an organ waiting for transplant. He pulls several tissues and squeezes across as many fingers as he can at the same time, maintaining the pressure even as red propelled by the racing of his heart blossoms across the rough single-ply paper, and waits until the other party starts to sit up. At least being in uniform, the crisp navy blue of a Chicago paramedic's winter dress, might keep them from panicking—and if they do, well, when he frantically patted himself down at the beginning of this his hands quickly located the comforting weight of his sidearm.

He pauses for a split second, mentally assembling the sentence in English before speaking, a conscious effort when his mind is pulled in so many other directions. The words that come out are heavily accented, moreso than usual. Pronunciation or something as trivial as the length of vowels isn't exactly his priority right now. ]

Who are you?

2. LE DANGER IMMÉDIAT ET L'AMOUR FICTION
roller rink.

[ The transition from wheels to blades takes a little effort, initially, like a calf's first few steps in the outside world—but it doesn't take Vasiliy overly long to regain his balance and make the transition from ice skating in Gorky Park in the late 1930s to roller skating sometime in the 80s. Of course, he's hardly as graceful as he would be on a frozen pond, but at least he manages not to wipe out as most of the people around him seem to be doing.

Like the person who starts to lose their balance next to him, swaying back and forth like a sapling in the wind. And down they go—but he snatches their wrist before their ass actually hits the waxed floor, momentarily losing and regaining his own balance in the process. ]

Hey— Are you alright?

3. THESE ARE VERY DIFFICULT AND DANGEROUS TIMES
mallrats | cw: blood.

[ It feels vaguely sacreligious, dressing himself in the high waisted, shapeless American blue jeans that surround him at every turn. It's a symbolic yield, a surrender—conformity leveraged against him, a collective he has no interest in. The denim is heavy, unpleasant against the bare skin of his legs, scraping. He's not much happier with the shapeless cotton tee shirt, but at least that's something he's more used to, something he associates less directly with Reagan.

He carries his EMT's uniform (neatly folded, of course) in the Ruby's bag at his side as he exits the store, though he doesn't get far—he stops dead in his tracks in front of a wall of synchronized home television sets, a million replicas of the same birthmarked face standing before dozens of overlapping news center microphones, his lips moving in the shapes of familiar syllables as English ticker tape runs an unnecessary translation below him. In the corner of the screen: RUSSIAN NUCLEAR THREAT ON THE RISE, as though theirs isn't.

In the split second he catalogues all of this information, Vasiliy doesn't get to mutter under his breath before someone slams into his back, clearly not expecting him to stop in his tracks in the middle of the mall's thoroughfare. He turns immediately, starts to issue an apology—and with the motion of the turn a few drops of blood from the palm of the same hand as back in the hotel room land on their presumably-also-new jeans. ]

Sorry—sorry!

[ Why is it bleeding again? Is this my curse? ]

4. WILDCARD

[ vasiliy's likely to be exploring the place/gathering as much information as he can, with his hands intermittently bleeding despite a lack of visible cuts. if you'd like a starter or want to plot feel free to hit me up here or send a pp to bluehellgazette! ]

2!

[janescayre]

[By this point Fukawa's made several intimate connections with the floor. That's what she gets for wobbling away from the railing. Her progress thus far has been a punchy beat of step-splat!-step-splat!, and thus her pride has been bruised enough to accept help when it's given.]

D-do I look all right?!

[That doesn't mean she'll be nice about it.

She straightens on shaky legs, one arm flinging out to find balance. She almost topples instead, and has to snag the strange man's arm with both hands to pull herself together.]

How...how does anybody find this "fun"? I'd rather get p-pelted with erasers.

peter quill, marvel comics

[astrologics]

one — blood offering

( peter awakens slowly, soft light of the room filtering in between half-opened eyes. he's cosy and without the hangover he'd been expecting to split his skull in two when he'd gone to bed and buried himself in blankets.

he thinks he remembers groot banging on his door and shouting something about the end of the galaxy, or the ship, or something. whatever it had been, it couldn't have been that important because he'd fallen back asleep quite promptly afterwards.

apparently.

he thinks he remembers a dream, something about being cursed and — a city? whatever.

he rolls to the side, pulling the blanket about him before abruptly coming to the realisation that both the bed and the blanket are softer than what he's used to, that he's not on the ryder and—

his eyes snap open.

uggggggh, nope, definitely not the ryder. )

—Morning?

two — mallrats

( it feels like earth and it gives him the heebie jeebies. he's never quite been able to decide how he feels about earth in a specific sense — like, of course he's super grateful that it both exists and continues to exist, and he'd like to help it keep continue doing the latter, but ever since he and kitty ceased to, you know, be an 'and', there's not been a whole lot to tie himself to the planet.

sure, sure, there was the occasional incident with the x-men or the avengers, in the sense that both got involved with messes that they shouldn't and the guardians were inevitably roped into giving a hand, but—

—that was kind of few and far between these days; and the guardians weren't really — much of a traditional group as things stood.

more than that, peter feels like he's just time traveled back to his childhood. he remembers begging his mom to take him to the mall, begging her to buy the coolest, newest toy.

at first, he stands outside playland toys and games, studying the window and trying to work out how much of it he actually, really, genuinely remembers. he moves on, of course, and ends up outside and then inside la pointe.

in one hand, he holds a cassette — tears for fears, the hurting, thanks — and his attention shifts sideways, to the person closest to him. )

And they say that physical media's dumb.

three — i do what i want, network

un: quill
Now that we've done the 'raise your hand if you know this one very specific reference from my home planet' thing and the 'wait, did we share an ice cream at the roller rink this one time' thing, there are a few more important questions to answer.

1. Drinkable coffee — no/yes/where?

( that's it, that's the list of questions. )

four — wildcard

( want to do something else or approach a prompt in another way? totes go for it! pm me if you want to run through anything. )

un: lovelyrose

[lacivious]

more like ew.
coffee is gross.
for your sake i hope its nowhere.

eleanor vance | haunting of hill house | ota

[90secondsafter]

[ 1 ]

[It was quiet. That was the first thing she noticed. And she wasn't laying on hardwood floors, though she was definitely horizontal, currently. Nell's eyes flick open a few times, frowning softly as she did so. For a moment it all seemed like a dream, walking in the doors of Hill House, being comforted by the faces of family. Of Arthur... The climb of the spiral staircase... No, she wouldn't think of that, not right now.

For the room she was seeing now reminded her of the hotel room she was staying in hours earlier. Maybe a different suite, since she always seemed to choose the same one that her dad chose all those years ago. She sits up, legs swinging over the side of the bed, hand going up to her sore throat. Eleanor tries to keep her head as still as possible in order to keep her neck from hurting as she looks around, eyes alighting on the letter.

It's as she gets up to get the letter to read it that she notices in the mirror that she's still wearing her mother's dress. Freezing in place, her hand drifts down from her throat to the fabric below, fingers tangling in it. She swallows the whimper building in her throat, tearing her gaze from the mirror, from the tell-tale rope marks on her neck...

She forces a smile on her face, though it looks pained... Or tired. Really, either one. But nonetheless, a smile on her face as she looks at her unfortunate roommate.]

You too?

[ 2 ]

Whoa! [Eleanor flails as she tries to regain her balance, grabbing onto the nearby railing and—quite possibly—you in order to keep upright. She stands there for a few moments, trying to keep the wheels under her still for just long enough to catch her breath.

In... Out...

Okay. She pulls herself closer to the railing, having let go of whomever she might've grabbed before, straightening as she does so.] You'd think I'd remember how to do this better... [She tucks some hair behind her ear, looking down at the roller skates on her feet.] Then again, I think I learned on roller blades. And definitely not in a dress.

[Or, if she had, it was a much shorter dress. Mayhaps a skirt or a skort, given the time. She turns her head towards the main skating direction.]

At least I'm halfway there.

[ 3 ]

[You'll find Eleanor this time browsing the racks at Ruby's in an attempt to find something other than a dress more suited to lounging about in a boudoir. She's almost mindlessly moving hangers, not really seeing the clothes. But at least she's finally found shoes!!!

Finally, there's a fabric in the rack that makes her pause, pulling her attention to it as she pulls it off the rack. It's a dark red-colored cable sweater, nothing too heavy weighted. But it looks and feels cozy. And cozy is what she's after right now. And thankfully:] Just my size.

[She smiles softly, a truer smile than she'd worn earlier, and drapes the sweater over her arm, looking around the store and speaking more to herself than anyone else.] If I were a t-shirt...

[ WILDCARD ]

[Wanna do something fun with curses? Maybe wander in a few of the stores and window-shop? Heck, she'll take food even! Hit me up here, PM, or try gloryfalling.]

#2

[m1895]

[ Fortunately, by the time the stranger's grabbed the front of the EMS uniform he arrived in, Vasiliy's mostly gotten a feel for his skates, at least enough to stay upright despite the sudden pull. He lets her catch her breath—and balance—before he actually answers. ]

Me too. I'm more graceful on ice.

[ He follows her line of sight to the other side of the rink—true, she's almost halfway there, but considering how awkward she seems on rollerblades, that's quite a distance. He extends a hand, (thankfully) bloodless fingers spread. ]

Do you want help?

Eddie Munson || Stranger Things

[corrodedcoffin]

1. a blood offering

[ He'd read the note, but not closely - if someone else is in the other bed, Eddie hasn't noticed. He's too busy banging his palms against the door, trying the doorknob again and again. It doesn't so much as rattle. ]

Come on, this isn't funny! Open up already!

[ He's sweating, curling strands of his hair around his fingers as he paces around the room. He'd really like to go back to the life he'd been accustomed to before everything went to hell - smoke and drink and shred on his guitar. He'd been at that bargaining stage where he'd even do his homework once in a while if he meant he never saw the Upside Down again. Maybe, somehow, that was how he ended up here. ]

Blood. Where am I even supposed to put the goddamn blood?


2. roller rink

[ Eddie's just here for the walkman and the walkman alone - this place is a gaudy neon nightmare and the music is an assault to everything he stands for. But if he's going to ever possibly cope with whatever nightmare he's been thrust into now, he's gonna need music. Lots of it. He laces the skates he's been handed as tightly as he can, then struggles to get himself upright again. One lap sounded easy when he got the invitation, but now he's Bambi on the goddamn ice. Even holding onto the railing with a white-knuckled grip, he's barely inching his way forward. ]

Easy does it, Munson. You can do this.

[ His nostrils flare as he sighs. Great, the first impression all these people get of him is going to be that he's a freak and he can't even roller skate one lap. But he trudges on. ]

I'm not the only one who's never done this before, right? When the hell did everyone learn how to roller skate?

[ It's then that he loses his balance, flailing his arms to try and grab onto the railing again but only managing to knock himself on his ass. ]


3. mallrats

[ Hawkins had a mall, once. It was a good place to wander around and meet up with jocks who wanted to buy weed. The Sam Goody's selection sucked but at least they'd special order stuff in once in a while.

Then it'd all gone up in flames, supposedly, and beyond conspiracies and whispers, life went on.

That's what he's looking for now - the record store. Growing up broke means Eddie's of the opinion that if you've got money, you should spend it before it's gone, and this gift card is burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe the routine of flipping through stacks of albums will make everything feel a little more normal.

And then he sees it. Not the record store, but Oblivion. The dark facade and gothic lettering immediately distract Eddie from his mission, and he follows the scent of incense into the dimly-lit boutique. ]

Holy shit, they have shirts for bands I like in here!


4. wildcard

[ Down for whatever tbh! Just getting my bearings on Dreamwidth again after a long hiatus but feel free to hit me up at leviloser - don't mind how barren it is, lol. ]

1

[westviews]

[This guy's panic really does nothing to put Wanda at ease, but she supposes it's better than her being the one pacing around and about to pull out her hair. She'd let him work himself up, taking the opportunity to read the note and take a good glance over the room from her bed.

Enough's enough.]

A handprint for the door. I'm not keen on bleeding today.

[Which might sound ominous for him, but really she just means to use another method. Magic. Wanda stands, and moves her hands with all the confidence of someone who is actually a person that uses magic, and uses it well.

Except nothing happens. Nothing at all. She can't even grasp at any tendrils of chaos, and she's speechless as she looks down at her hands. A curse, she recalls from her dream. But this almost feels like--relief. She wills the magic to come, but it doesn't, and she watches her hands curl into fists as that begins to sink in.]

Deuce Spade | Twisted Wonderland

[majimekun]

A Blood Offering

[When Deuce first woke up, he'd assumed it was all just a dream. The result of too many futile late night study sessions fueled by too much tea. Reality had quickly settled in though and the teenager had started to panic at the realization he'd woken up in a strange room.

Deuce doesn't really register his roommate beyond a quick hello unless they're a fellow classmate from NRC. He's too freaked out to really calm down yet, especially once he realizes they can't get out of the room.

He tries to slam himself in the door with a level of aggression and anger that might seem a bit... much, but well that's just him.]

Damn it! What the hell!?

[He hasn't seen the letter yet, which may or may not be a good thing. Instead, he pulls out the pen in his pocket and tries to cast a spell, because surely if he just summons a cauldron, that will take care of everything!

...why is nothing happening? Why have you let him down, cauldron?]

Roller Rink

[Right now, Deuce is regretting all of his life choices. Because it turns out that despite being naturally athletic, he's not exactly coordinated on roller blades. Like at all. After his fifth terrible fall, Deuce has decided that for now, he's going to cling to the wall. He's not given up of course, because a free walkman is a free walkman. Even though they called it something else in his world. But this place seems low tech enough that it's probably better to have one.]

Everyone's making this look so easy...

Mallrats

[Of course Deuce wasn't going to miss out on a hundred dollars worth of gift cards. His Mom had raised him better than that!

What to get is another matter though. Deuce can't decide if he likes the louder fashion of this world or not. Some of it is tacky and some it is... well really cool?
Deuce is getting one of those leather jackets at least because he misses his old riding jacket back home.

But right now, Deuce is taking a break in the food court, because he's just realized that he's free to eat whatever junk food he wants. He'd been training for the VDC for so long that he forgot what something as normal as a hot dog tasted like. He's smiling around every bite right now.

Would it be wrong to spend the rest of his money on food? Probably. But it's very tempting.]

Wildcard
[Feel free to throw your own prompt at me, or modify any of the above. There are plenty of opportunities to meet Deuce in town and he'll be traveling all over the mall. It should also be noted for the canon familiar, that I'll be sticking to JPN terms unless someone would prefer the NA translation.

Feel free to either pm me on this journal, at kanetsugu or at my discord, Joy#8142.]

Roller Rink

[shrikesback]

[Getting their own skates on that had been the hard part for Wren, hand still bandaged from cutting it to get out of the room. Once on, the rest was easy, and it's on their second lap they slow themselves down a bit next to the struggling guy. He's fallen down how many times and keeps going?

From one stubborn person to another, that's impressive.]

...I don't know about anyone else, but where I'm from this is a pretty common thing to do when you're a kid.

[Said as though teenagers aren't kids, an opinion only a teenager would have.]

I think I went to my first skate party at 8. Easy to learn when you're falling down all the time anyway. Want some pointers?

Maggie Lacivi ( Ava's Demon )

[lacivious]

I. A BLOOD OFFERING

( the dream was certainly odd and waking up in some dusty bedroom was even more odd. but the note definitely took the cake on the oddity scale for maggie. and that is when she decided that she certainly had enough of this bullshit for one day. it's enough that she's recently become a fugitive thanks to the actions of ava fucking ire. she doesn't need to do some weird blood ritual shit as well. )

Hello?! Okay, this is funny and all but also really stupid! Whoever is out there you can just cut it out and actually let us out?!

( there's no answer. of course there isn't. just her luck! realizing that she's actually going to have to do something more than just shout, maggie gets to her feet and gives a quick glance around the room. there's nothing noticablely sharp around which brings in the question of how exactly they planned on getting any blood from anybody. there was no way she was going to willingly slam her head against a wall or anything. but perhaps there would be someone that could...

her eyes go over to her resting roommate. she sits down on the edge of their bed, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs. )

So... how willing are you to give your blood so we can escape?

II. KITCH'N WARES

( spending all of her money inside paradiso was all too tempting. but she also understood that she was in a foreign land without any way to get in contact with tuls. just from arriving here and having that strange dream instead of ending up in the domain of the demon was enough of a hint to have her on edge. any attempts to manifest her powers resulted in nothing so she needed different means to defend herself.

and a knife seemed simple enough. it was light. the only downside is that it was close range.

maggie gives a few test slices against the area around her, quickly coming to a stop when she very nearly slices the unfortunate soul that happens to walk past her. )

Hey! Watch it!

III. NETWORK (UN: LOVELYROSE)

okay so!
just making sure. did the people reading this post have that weird dream?
follow up question if you did: what the heck is up with all the secrecy about this whole curse thing?
is everyone else gonna like gang up on us or something?

IV. WILDCARD

( feel free to throw something at me or contact me via my plurk graywaves )

Shopping! (Don't worry about matching prose, just easier for me to write)

[savethem]

"Whoa! Hey!" Joyce had been looking through stores more than looking for things. She was still trying to find her kids, or anyone from home really.

Joyce had her hands out, palms flat in front of her in a classic nonaggression move.

"Don't worry, I'm not looking for a knife, that one's all yours."

stede bonnet | our flag means death

[funhinged]

blood offering.

[ "Dated" is indeed all a matter of perspective. Stede does not have that perspective. He's a man of particular tastes and also from the 1700s, so he's kind of merely trying to survive right now. Like any weird little man in full aristocratic ensemble and heels with bows on them. Mostly in the sense that he's pretty sure this is either an extensive horrific nightmare he's having or that he's somehow completely gone round the bend into a full mental crisis, but there's someone in this room full of mysterious stuff with him, which means he can't just... like, have his Moment about it.

That would just be poor form.

So clearly the sooner the door is open, the sooner he's alone to try to deal with this whole situation, the better. Hence: dealing with this letter. ]

Oh, that's just impractical. [ Local man valiantly staving off breakdown with a sharpened stick, not actually having too hard a time of it because there's plenty to be offended about in the meantime. ] Clearly someone needs to have a word with this "mayor" about their methods. And, with all due respect, a word about the color scheme in here. That's not even getting into the texture on the towels.

[ Like honestly. Have some taste. Stede claps his hands once, not unlike a well-meaning mediocre manager in the workplace. ]

Right! Best get cracking, then. Give me half a minute to roll my sleeve up, I'm not bleeding all over one of my best coats. [ Especially since it's the only one he... has. Right now. God, he might need to have a cry about that later. Also of import: ] Have you got a knife? I'm afraid I'm missing my usual.


roller rink.

[ Hmm. On the one hand, time has proven that this is maybe not a huge nightmare or elaborate mental construction of his own design. All looks very real, feels very real, he has no idea what's going on half the time, terrifying, horrifying, confusing, complete and utter lack of familiar faces or circumstance, steep learning curve only eased by other people in the same boat and the locals being positive he's from another country.

Which isn't wrong, technically?

On the other hand, it's not Stede's first go at an overnight transition into a lifestyle with which he has zero familiarity or experience, so at least there's that. No, wait. That's barely a positive. So really on the other hand is that there are ways to have fun here. Nothing's as good as what he had going for him back home, of course. But this whole... thing... is definitely happening. Colors! Music! People, he guesses!

Stede shows up, because what else has he even got to do. He gets the roller skates on, he makes it to the rink. He falls down a lot and makes a lot of cartoonish sounds about it until he winds up clinging to the outer barrier and inching his way along. (Which he is ready and prepared to repeatedly describe as "just getting my sea legs".) ]

It's really exhilarating in here, isn't it! [ That's genuine. Never mind how acquainted he's becoming with the floor, or his full inability to comprehend synth music, or the fact that when he gets his walkman he has no idea what to even do with it. Stede looks no less than maniacally pleased about the weird fucking time he's having right now.

Big gremlin energy. ]

Gosh, and a lot of people are awfully good at this already. [ Maybe including whoever he's talking to. Or maybe not, considering his "holding onto something and shuffling" position in the rink. ] I should've asked about lessons.


mallrats.

[ Finally... Stede's area of expertise. Shopping.

He thinks this might actually be his new favorite place. Not ever, seeing how he didn't ask to come here and wants to go back home, but like, maybe his favorite place in this specific town. There's all kinds of neat stuff.

He mostly spends time trying to figure out clothes. It's not a terrible budget to work with, depending on the shop. He has no idea what's "in" around these parts, but it's apparently not like what he's used to? Oh no... how dreadful... to have to try on a lot of things and figure out what he likes... to start building a wardrobe...

Mental and emotional stress whomst. He has pastels and vibrant hues to coordinate. Be wary lest ye be asked for opinions. Or watch in real-time while he learns that bartering is no longer the done thing in retail environs.

The mall is also a good place to try to get a social lay of the land in general, though, it turns out. Get acclimated. That's a really fancy way to say catch Stede sat on a bench and blatantly people-watching while like, teens have messy breakups in the food court or people gossip about their work drama or whatever. Quiet people-watching used to be his whole non-reading hobby of choice.

Or, last but not least, catch him in the appliance store trying to learn how to use half of the shit he keeps encountering in day-to-day situations that most people seem to already be used to. Look, if his first response to trying to figure out a microwave was screaming when it beeped, that's his business. But it turns out there are instruction manuals and demonstrations and a lot of statistics that he has no idea what they mean?

He might be about to stick his hand into a display toaster to get the lay of the land. And if that doesn't explain how likely it is that Stede will be banned from returning to this store by the end of the day, nothing else will explain it. ]


wildcard.

[ or yeah, up for hashing out other scenarios/prompts/etc ✌️ feel free to throw whatever or hmu for plotting! ]

roller rink;

[stevieboy]

[ Speaking of people who are awfully good at this, here's Steve Harrington, who's never met a sport that didn't like him. That includes rollerskating, which is barely a sport he thinks but it's the principle of the matter.

He's long since completed his one lap, now he's just skating because what else is he gonna do? Take his Walkman and leave? Well, yeah, okay, but maybe he's actually enjoying himself, and he can't help himself when he sees the poor man clinging to the barrier while somehow also having the time of his life. ]

Here. [ Steve skates up with a walker, like what you'd find on an ice skating rink to help people practice and stay upright. ] Once you get the hang of it, it's pretty easy. I learned in like, a week one summer to impress a girl. No sweat.

Lt. Col. John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis - OTA, will match format!

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

A. A Blood Offering -

He's been through a lot of things. Things that one would consider impossible. So it's not entirely out of the ordinary that he does wake up after a weird dream where someone tells him he's trapped in some place under a Curse.

Waking up in a weird old motel and not safe at home in Atlantis makes him wonder if this is the curse.

"You've got to be kidding me," John rubs his face, sitting up, taking in the rather...unfortunate decor. Did he get captured by aliens again? Aliens who have reached the developmental level of...1980, perhaps.

It takes him another second to realize that there's someone in the room with him.

There's a very long pause, as he stares at the other person.

"Hi."

He waves, like it's any old day.

B. Roller Rink -

So John Sheppard has learned a few things.

One, there's no gate here and no direct way home.

Two, it's very possible that they are actually cursed and therefore, probably do need to stay here until they're no longer affected by it. He's been through enough of these scenarios that he will stay here as long as he needs to, even if he had a choice otherwise. He couldn't risk bringing something like this back to Atlantis.

Three, he hasn't roller skated in ages and he doesn't want to fall and look like an idiot. But a mystery walkman sounds nice (or possibly also cursed) and he needs to get one just in case it's important.

So here is John Sheppard, fighter pilot, proficient in many flying aircraft, eeking his way across the skating rink.

He's fine. A little wobbly. Just don't break his concentration.

C. Mallrats -

Considering most of his teenage years were during the heyday of mall life, this is all very familiar to him. And admittedly, it's kind of nostalgic and all that.

So he's got an ice cream in one hand as he peruses the music selection at La Pointe Music Shop, making plans to maybe go see a movie later. Word on the street was it's chock full of 80's movies so he's gonna take this nostalgia train to the station.

Plus, he can actually buy some cassettes, vinyl and players for them? Score!

"Do they sell posters here?" he asks the nearest person to him absently, while searching through the Johnny Cash cassettes.

D. Cursed - cw: body horror, ptsd

He noticed it when he was playing pinball at the arcade.

It's something that's haunted his nightmares ever since he experienced it, the loss of control, the fear of hurting his friends--his family, and yeah, the actual experience sucked, but what he could have done to them...it's not something that leaves you lightly.

It was an itch at first. He slams his fist against the pinball machine and it buzzes loudly, the TILT, and he reaches up to pull the sleeve of his jacket up.

And then it's there. Just like in his nightmares, just like when it happened.

A scattering of blue and purple around his arm, and a patch of what is literally exoskeleton sitting where he'd gotten bitten the first time.

No. No, that can't be--he's imagining things.

He rushes to a brighter part of the arcade, scrubbing at his arm, his eyes wide.

E. Wildcard - Anything goes!

b.

[energyfieldgood]

"Sheppard!"

Oh, finally! His torment is over.

Rodney gestures for him agitatedly, then reaches. One hand is still clinging to the boards while the other windmills and then attaches itself to John's tactical vest. Once he has his claws in for support, the other lets go to grip at his shoulder, too, hanging on for dear life.

"Very good. Now get us around that thing."

While he will just. Cling. Angrily.

"Can you believe they make us do this? That walkman better comes batteries included."

Toko Fukawa | Danganronpa: Another Episode -- Possible Spoilers/CW

[janescayre]

((SPOILER/CONTENT WARNING: Fukawa has an eccentric split personality with a bloody past named Genocider Syo, who is attempting to put her murderous ways behind her. The canon treats this all rather irreverently and with little accuracy. I'll be putting a separate prompt for her under this top level. Anyone who doesn't want to deal with Syo never has to, and if I app I'll have an opt out post available. For now you can always message me, or if you don't respond to one of my tags I'll respect that you may not want to thread.))


A) A Blood Offering

[Fukawa's had worse dreams. None quite so vivid, nor explicitly instructional. Strange that something so demanding still left her with enough rest to feel better than she has in ages.

Sadly, as she cracks open an eye and finds tangerine-tinted wood paneling on the wall and peach bedsheets swaddling her body, all that good rest goes to waste.]

What? Wh-what the hell?!

[She's upright and on edge in a split second. She'd be on her feet if she hadn't clocked the second anomaly. A complete stranger in the bed opposite.

Fukawa shrieks. A projectile pillow follows, ready to whap whoever the unsuspecting sap is direct in the face.]

Who are you?! [She's drawing the sheets up to shield herself, in spite of still wearing her (heavily tattered) school uniform.] What do you want with me? G-G-Get out!


B) The Roller Rink

[All right so this is hell. She's in hell.

First off, her and her pestilent "roommate" had to give blood to be let out of their own rooms. Which was vile and beyond absurd, but considering the prices she's been asked to pay before perhaps not so devastating. Far worse than mortal sacrifices, though?]

This is so s-stupid, absolutely stupid... [One hand passes over the other as she tries not to end up in the splits, clinging to the boards for dear life. It's a cruel world that forces Fukawa Toko into any kind of sport, much less one with so many witnesses. She grumbles through grit teeth as every other patron zips past her, blithely carefree and physically fit.] Wh-what a bunch of assholes...why can't they wait for winter and ice skate like normal people?

[It's not even that she wants the damn walkman. It's just the closest thing to a clue she might get. For example, there might be a secret about the origin of this place on a tape. Ergo, she needs to get it. That stuff happened all the time in Towa City, why should the trend shift now?

One of Fukawa's legs slips too far to the left and she yelps, scrambling for purchase and finding herself leaning ever closer to the ground. She just has to make it around the rink once. Just once, goddammit, come on!]

I won't give up! [HUFF, HUFF] I w-won't be humiliated! I won't!


C) Mallrats

[They don't even have a bookstore!

Fukawa had trekked from one corner to another, from the first floor to the last, and there is nothing. No consideration for the more intellectually inclined. Instead they've got a clunky, junk-infested electronics store, where everything is so outdated she might as well try using an abacus. The cinema is playing soapy trash blockbusters. Her only hope is the record store, but even that is teeming with filth and mediocrity. Whoever heard of Huey Lewis and the News? What a terrible name! They probably had one milquetoast hit and were destined to die in obscurity. Where they belong.

Fukawa has flicked through one sheathe of vinyl too many by this point, and so turns to her last resort: talking to people.]

D-Do you know if they have a classical section in here? Or would that explode their simian pea-brains? [She casts a withering glance to the store clerk, who has a certain je-ne-sais-quoi about him that says he'd be of no help to anyone. (Might be the weed smoke.)] Or at l-least a Japanese section. Something familiar would be nice.

D) Mallrats Part Two ((Gen. S.))

[janescayre]

[You know, most people might be griping about getting back home. Worrying about their plants and their pets and their itty bitty jobs, their itty bitty families. How tragic for them. They'd find the technology lacking, the scenery uninspiring, the local delights banal.

Syo on the other hand? She's a gal who only got to sneak out in the dead of night, for a singular, sultry, bloody purpose. By the time she was ready to run free in daylight, there wasn't much left to run free to. She's missed out on all the essentials. Ice cream parlours. Spooking park pigeons. Ripping through the pixels in Street Fighter.

A callous cackle peels through the arcade as she lays a lethal smackdown on the latest contender. Rest in pieces, little karate-man sprite.]

YES! GOT 'EM! Eat fist, numb nuts! [Syo slams a hand on the machine and it gives a beleaguered creak. One of the staff has been keeping an eye on her from afar. She doesn't seem to care. A hoot of victory follows and she spins in delight, then abruptly snatches the next passerby by the shoulder.]

Oh man, buddy, have you tried this one yet? I've got a killer streak going on, I've got a fever, you gotta help me out! Show me you know how to mash them buttons, huh? C'mon, c'mon, give me a freaking challenge, here, I'm cleaning out the house and I haven't broken a sweat!

steve harrington | stranger things

[fawcetted]

●●● A BLOOD OFFERING — ;

[ Steve wakes up with a start — and a groan. It's sudden and a bit groggy and he's definitely disoriented, assuming he's in at least like three different places at once: his own bed, the RV, or some dream he still has to wake up from. But it's when he opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, heart still pounding in his chest, that he tilts his head and sees you. The room looking like it does doesn't seem to faze him in the least, like he's perfectly used to the way the décor is presented. If anything, it's sharing a room with a stranger that has him on edge. ]

Jesus Christ.

[ Whether you're staring back, or you have yet to wake up, it doesn't really matter, because either way he ... probably shouldn't be here. And he's remembering these ... snippets of a conversation. Someone speaking with him, something about a capital-C Curse ... ah, jeez.

He scrubs at his face. ]

Hey — uh. This is gonna be kind of a weird question, but you didn't just wake up from the wildest dream, did you? Talking to someone who called themselves the Mayor?

[ ... and once he's calmed down, and you've calmed down, it's time to get out of here. Not one to immediately jump to reading instructions, manuals, or really important letters, Steve makes a beeline towards the door, twisting the knob and making attempts to pull it open. ]

What the hell? The door won't open.

[ Thank you, Captain Obvious.

He turns to look in your direction. Clearly you're going to be the brains of this outfit and hopefully you've read the letter — congrats on your promotion in Team Cursed. ]

What now?


●●● MALL RATS — ;

[ The last time Steve Harrington was at a mall had been Starcourt, and while it started out kind of okay, save for the fact that sailor hats ruin everything, things kind of took a turn for the worst, real fast. There were Russians trying to open gates to the Upside Down, and there was torture and being drugged, and thinking he was actually going to die before a giant goo-monster made of people showed up and properly destroyed the place. ]

I mean, it's fine. [ #JustHawkinsThings, right?

He'll happily take the lead on wandering the mall, pausing to examine some of the shoes, or a shirt, or something that reminds him a little of some of the people he knows from Hawkins. Like the dopey cap that reminds him of Dustin, or suspenders that are definitely something Robin would wear. ] We had a mall just like this back home — with the stores and the food court. Whatever, it's not a big deal. But I refuse to work at that Polar Ice Cream place, okay? In fact, I'm gonna avoid that place all together.

[ You can always ask why, it's not like any of the stuff he's been through is a secret or anything. ]

Also? A hundred bucks isn't going to get us very far.


●●● WILDCARD — ;

[ ooc: steve is set from somewhere post-season 3, vaguely season 4-ish (haven't figured out exact canon points yet).

if none of the above vibes, leave your own prompt here! or mix up and alter one of the above prompts as you see fit, i'm easy peasy. feel free to PM me to plot something out! i'm down for anything and everything. lets cause some trouble. ✌ ]

blood offering;

[zangetsu]

（ he's been without his shinigami powers before. he can feel it, that severance of reiatsu, the place power has lived all his life in him. but there's no point crying about it — whatever this is, it's just another barrier between he and yhwach. this could even be a dream, it's not like he hasn't learned his senses aren't always to be trusted.

they've done their introductions, he's flatly he doesn't give a shit about this mayor person (his exact words may have been 'what do i care what some asshole like that has to say?') and now he is staring at the door like it owes him lunch money.

ichigo has not done the assignment. the letter lays unopened on the dresser. he lifts one foot and kicks the door — it rattles the wall and the door in its hinges, but it doesn't budge. and the power behind it... definitely only human.

he scrubs a hand through his hair and, angrily, ）

Ah, what the hell! I'm tired of this place! You, Steve, wasn't it? You sure that Mayor guy didn't say anything else?

（ he... was not paying attention in his own dream. par for the course. ）

Sam Winchester | Supernatural |

[notarambler]

Arrival

Sam struggled to wake up as his grief still seems to weigh him down reminding him that he is now the last living member of his family. As such he doesn't see anything wrong with the room at first. It looks like any number of hotels he's stayed in over the years. But then he gets up and reads the note. Rather than upsetting him, Sam simply sighs and sits back down on the bed looking over at the person next to him. "I can do it," he says sounding tired, "it wouldn't be the first time."

Roller Rink

Sam had been to a roller rink once or twice in his life, so they aren't unfamiliar to him. It had been mostly for cases and not for skating, so it took the tall hunter a few laps to get the hang of the whole idea. He may of used his Curse at lease once to push himself upright though he's uncomfortable with doing so. Still he finds the motion soothing and when he gets his Walkman with the mystery tape and hears the familiar notes of Kansas begin he loses himself for a little while in the motion and the music.

Mallrats

Sam found himself clocking all the entrances and exits as soon as he entered the mall. It was a force of habit that he couldn't seem to break himself of. There was something odd about this whole situation and it was making his hunter instincts scream at him. He walked along glancing at the shop windows from time to time trying to see with anyone was following him.

He made his way to the food court planning on using part of his gift card on some lunch before trying to figure out what to do next. He feels weirdly out of his element here and it shows as he glances around trying to see what everyone else is up to.

Arrival!

[flatly]

Alec, on the other hand, is much more restless. He's already made a circuit around the tiny room like he's securing the world's least impressive perimeter, trying to stop himself from catastrophizing about the situation by being productive.

But it's awfully difficult to be productive when trapped in a tiny room like this.

As soon as Sam finishes with the letter and speaks, Alec regards him like he's seeing him for the first time. He isn't, obviously, but he'd been a little busy freaking out internally there. "You think that's a good idea?" As a rule, Alec tries not to mess with any magic that isn't Nephilim magic. Better to hire someone who knows what they're doing, and not go smearing anybody's blood all over unfamiliar wards or spells, if he can help it. Especially if they're able to render all of Alec's Enochian runes totally useless: he's never encountered anything like it and it makes him a touch nervous. "Wait, do you know what kind of spell this is?" Since it wouldn't be his first time, he'd said.

wanda maximoff | mcu

[westviews]

I. BLOOD OFFERING

[If she didn’t know better, she’d think she were back in Westview. But that thought leaves as soon as it comes, and Wanda sits upright and turns to stare at the other person in the room with equal parts apprehension and suspicion.

This isn't the dream she just had. This is real. But dreams can't always be trusted, nor can something that seems so real, like the dated duvet under her hands.]

Who are you?

[Something feels terribly wrong beyond that vivid dream and the words said to her within it.]

II. ROLLER RINK

Careful.

[Maybe you look unsteady on your feet, or maybe you simply came too close to Wanda, but it’s a light warning as she keeps a hand on the side of the rink.]

III. MALL RATS

[Wanda takes her time walking around the mall, keeping to herself for the most part, but she does actually need to buy herself some clothes given she seems to be unable to magic them herself. So, it’s at Ruby’s where she pauses and decides to step in.

Find her with a pair of jeans and a jacket draped over her arm, or lingering at a clothing rack to examine a shirt. Plain, simple clothes. A far cry from the black and red suit she has on currently.

She sort of looks like she should be shopping at Oblivion, but no.

Eventually, she’ll make her purchases and circle the carousel, watching to see if anyone gets on.]

iii

[90secondsafter]

[Nell got distracted on her own course to the shirts by spying some rather comfy looking jeans. So those joined the red cable sweater as she wanders up to the other side of the same rack. Catching really just a glimpse of the other woman, she pauses with a sort of bemused smile on her face. (After all, it had been around Halloween that she'd wandered back to Hill House.)]

I don't think I've seen that look before. It's very detailed. [Her tone is appreciative, for sure. Nell is still wearing her mother's "nightgown" of a dress, hair down to hide the faint bruising around the neck.]

Emma Frost | Marvel Comics

[caratin]

[Blood Offering]

[There’s a lot to process here, though Emma’s not particularly interested in tackling most of that until after she gets out of this room. The dream and her powers being gone are concerns of course, but there’s little to be done about any of that so long as she’s stuck in this motel room with whoever’s in here. And being here with whoever is also not immediately high on her list of concerns either, these things happen, and it’s not the worst waking up with someone random she could think of.]

Shall we get out of here? I can’t say I like the idea of spending any more time than I have to in such a mundane motel room, or really in motels in general…

[Five star hotels sure, motels, no thank you.

And with that, she’ll go check out the note on the nightstand and frown slightly. Ever so slightly. Once again there are worse things, but really...]

And it seems there’s a bit of a check out fee…

[Emma’ll pass the note over so her new buddy can read it for themselves.]

[Mallrats]

I suppose this will have to do.

[Said while inspecting the giftcard. She’s used to having a bit more of a spending limit, Paradiso isn’t quite her style, but more in line with her spending habits, as is Gold Standard. But like she said, she’ll just have to make do. Hardly the worst thing, though for a moment she does feel the urge to comment that this is clearly the worst thing, but no, she’ll refrain.]

Still, I’ve had less to work with, really, being past disco is the real kindness.

[There’s really only one member of the X-Men who can pull off disco after disco and it sure isn’t Emma. Visiting the roller rink for that whole meet and greet is as close to sharing fashion choices with Dazzler as she’s comfortable with.]

[Wildcard]

[Feel free to throw something else at me or bug me over at opticblast to hash something out! Haven't entirely decided on canonpoint yet other than somewhere in the Krakoa stuff.]

Mallrats (don't worry about matching prose, it's just easier for me to write.)

[savethem]

"Was disco so bad?" Joyce chuckled a little, yes it had been something. Not that she didn't still have a few ABBA records back home. ABBA transcended disco.

The other woman was, well, Joyce felt every year of her age standing beside someone who looked like that and carried themselves with that sort of air of superiority. Pretty much the opposite of herself, and Joyce couldn't do much but try and straighten out the flannel shirt she had over a t-shirt.

"Looks like they have a lot of stores though. That's got to be a plus, right?"

Dr. Rodney McKay | Stargate: Atlantis

[energyfieldgood]

i. a blood offering

Oh, yes, of course, because that's not archaic and barbaric and extremely unnecessary? Let's display the power and ability to reach across universes and transport unsuspecting individuals across space and time and then install vampire doors! Because that makes sense!

[Were you still sleeping? Rodney isn't, and that is a loud affair. His voice is an indignant, exasperated clamoring while he busily checks every inch of the door for a panel, for conduits, wiring, anything he can maybe tap into and manipulate. Though with what he has no idea as of yet.]

Mayor, huh? Mayor of what, Vagueville? "You may be wondering why you're trapped in this room." Uh, yeah, and guess what? [Tilting his neck back to shout at the ceiling.] Still wondering! I mean, why put a letter in the first place and then have it be as useless as humanly possible!

[And so on. But he's running out of ideas what to try here, so when he notices his fellow arrival he reaches out and snaps his fingers at them.]

You, other person. Get over here. We need your blood.


ii. roller rink

[On second thought, he'd rather go back to the blood doors.

Rodney's face is more than forbidding when he faces this entirely new challenge. The whole 80s vibe is off-putting, reminds him of university and pimples and horrendous attempts of asking out girls. Then there is the whole issue of a party, namely the people and the mingling. He stands awkwardly to the side, with a plate filled to the brim with food he keeps stuffing into his mouth.

Then he accidentally makes eye-contact with somebody and the chewing slows with the dreaded realization that he now has to say something.]

So. Did you, uh, bleed all over the door, too?

[Then, later, there is the prospect of technology. Crude 80s technology, yes, but walkman-technology is still better than no-technology and he will try to get his hands on any device, battery, spare part that he can. Even if it means trying to complete a lap and actually go out there skating.

Skating in this case is a stretch. It's more hanging to the boards, rolls skidding noisily as he tries to tug himself forward with the grace of a toddler.

A very angry toddler.]

Stupid-- come on, get-- will you just-- okay, this is not what the wheel was invented for!!


iii. - mall rats

[Well, isn't this great. If he had known there would be a gift card, he would have spared himself the absolute humiliation at the rink.

He's browsing Cutting Edge Electronics, trying to pick and choose between the different devices and determine which ones might prove the most useful. Which is impossible because it's impossible to tell what he will need. Except that he will probably need a lot. But he can't buy a lot. So he's in a bad mood. Again.

He huffs, throwing an oversized power adapter back into the bargain bin.]

This is ridiculous. What am I supposed to do with this, DOS our way out of here?

[Or he may see something someone else has in their hands. While Rodney doesn't know what he wants, he suddenly knows that he wants that and the FOMO hits him with the force of a thousand angry tech-deprived suns.]

Hey! Hey, that one was mine, I just, uh, put it aside for browsing.

[Trying to snatch that now, thank you.]


iv. wildcard

[hit me! c:]

i. rip everything

[ferriswheelsandfootball]

[He wakes to Rodney's complaints, and he rubs an eye, thoroughly confused at why he's seeing really bad wood paneling and what looks like a poorly decorated motel room coming into view around them.

...okay, first things first, they're not in Atlantis. The second thought he had is that they've been kidnapped or taken prisoner, again, but his brain can't quite reconcile the awful aesthetic around them. So maybe they were on a planet that was kind of advanced, at least advanced enough to get to the 70's or 80's, maybe? What was the last thing he remembers...?]

Rodney?

[Wait, what? He sits up in bed, suddenly very much quite awake.]

What the hell do you mean, my blood!?

chrissy cunningham | stranger things

[cheersquads]

( 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. )


This can't be happening.

( chrissy's lost track of how many times she's read and re-read the note, but it doesn't matter because it never seems to make any more sense. it's crumbled now in her fingers, her eyes darting back and forth between the printed words and the door. finally she rises, letting the slip of paper fall to the bedspread. approaching the door, she casts a quick glance to the stranger on the other bed, eyes faintly pleading. )

There's got to be another way, right?

( dimly she thinks that maybe this is still part of the dream, that she hasn't actually woken yet. it doesn't feel any more or less real than the nightmare visions she's been having the last few weeks. maybe they're just taking on a new form. pressing her decidedly un-bloody hands to the door, she pushes weakly. half certain she'd pass through it no matter what that note says. when that doesn't work, she tries knocking. if this isn't a dream, then maybe it's a prank. somebody from the basketball team or cheer squad is waiting on the other side, hoping to hear chrissy panic before setting her free. )

Guys, this isn't funny! Let me out!

( of course, she isn't alone in here. but it's hard to remember that when the fear starts to sink in. she pounds on the door now, desperation hitching her voice.

Hello?! Is someone out there?!


( 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐤. )


( a party after waking up in an entirely new place and locked in a motel room with a stranger? sure, why not?

chrissy doesn't actually care about the walkman or the tape it might hold, but being in a semi-crowded place seems a lot less frightening than wandering aimlessly through town. she's even strapped on the skates an attendant so kindly gave her, though she hasn't actually made it onto the rink itself. she's skated once or twice before, but the craze hasn't quite made it to hawkins yet so staying upright is pretty much the extent of her skills.

thankfully years of dance lessons and then cheering have given her fairly good coordination. it's the looking down at her feet that makes her bump into someone. )

Oh! I'm so sorry!


( 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐬. )


( look, in any other situation nothing would make chrissy happier than a shopping spree. especially one that's already been paid for. but she's still not entirely comfortable, with herself or with this place, so she drifts from store to store. carding through the clothing racks at ruby's, she considers a few dresses and sweatshirts. holding them up to herself as she looks in the mirror, tilting her head in consideration. it would be nice to change into something apart from the cheerleading uniform, but she doesn't purchase anything just yet.

she makes her way to the food court, weaving through surprisingly crowded tables. she doesn't actually have much of an appetite, and wouldn't actually dream of eating a lot of this stuff back home. but she feels weird leaving the food court empty handed, so settles on a strawberry smoothie.

eventually she settles on the steps near the carousel. still full cup sitting beside her, she wraps her arms around her legs, smiling encouragingly at anyone who happens to glance her way and contemplating riding the thing herself though she never actually makes it that far. )


( 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝. )


( exactly what it says on the tin! your character can stop her at any of the stops she makes in the mall, or if none of the starters suit you, feel free to toss our your own! if you'd like to work something out together, or have any questions, please feel free to message me here! )

roller rink.

[corrodedcoffin]

[ Eddie's the kind of guy who'll trip over his own feet if he's not careful, so strapping him to eight wheels and telling him to go? Not exactly his idea of a fun outing.

He's been clinging to the railing the whole way thus far, slowly rolling his way forward without lifting his wheels from the floor, all while glaring down at the neon laces of his skates. It'll be worth it for the walkman, right? ]

Whoa --

[ Eddie stumbles and nearly slips when someone bumps into his side, but manages to keep himself mostly upright. It's not getting bumped into that makes him feel like his knees are about to give out, but seeing the person who bumped him. ]

Holy shit. Chrissy?

[ His voice cracks when he says her name. Is she alive, or are they both dead? ]

christine chapel | star trek: strange new worlds

[labwork]

after the blood offering

[ she's woken up in the dark ages. that's how it feels like for christine, anyway, and that impression is not helped any when she goes to look for something to clean the cut she's made on her arm. (handprint or no, hands have a ton of nerve endings in them and getting her hand bloody worked just as well from a cut on her arm.)

her own cut taken care of, she'll still stop every time she spots someone with a bloody hand, arm, other other body part. ] Do you need me to take a look at that? I'm a nurse.

[ who knows how hygenic this motel is? christine's guess is not very and focusing on a — minor, admittedly — medical issue is better than focusing on the fact that she has no idea where she is, how she got here, or how to get back to the enterprise. ]

roller rink

[ she's found no answers (yet) and the truth is, she's feeling unbalanced with it, stomach heavy —but what can she do but make the best of it?

so christine's exchanged her uniform for an outfit that allows her to blend in a little better. the skating rink, at least, is fun and she's done more than one round and collected a pink-and-teal walkman that is now clipped to her hip.

she's also trying to figure out how to skate backwards right now. she is looking over her shoulder, but there's still a chance she'll accidentally skate into someone's path, right into someone, or that she'll stumble and threaten to fall unless someone helps out. ]

network (un: chapel)

does "starfleet" mean anything to anyone here?

and honestly, when i said i was interested in archeological medicine, a free trip into the past wasn't quite what i had in mind

wildcard

[ ooc; run into her at the mall or at a bar somewhere, let her know you need medical attention, idk, the sky's the limit ]

blood offering

[energyfieldgood]

Oh thank God, yes.

[Rodney immediately sticks his hand out almost demandingly at the offer to help. It's, admittedly, a small and relatively harmless cut that speaks volumes about hesitancy and frequent stops to try and see if it was enough.]

Should definitely get that cleaned. Place like this? You probably die from even a mild infection! Let's hope penicillin was already invented. Oh, uh, you don't happen to have some emergency rations on you, do you, because I am on the brink of a hypoglycemic reaction...

[He is also very dramatic and very hypochondriac.]

rand al'thor — wheel of time

[coramoor]

— A BLOOD OFFERING

[ he wakes up with a start, confused and off balance. there's light seeping in through the window, crawling up towards the bed that he's on. he's — fine.

how is he fine? he shouldn't be fine but he is. his limbs feel heavy, like he's been sleeping for quite some time but the last thing he remembers is...not this. he was not here. ]

Hello?

[ the only answers is the rustling of the bedsheets underneath his feet. there's another bed in the room, another person that he doesn't recognize. not one of his friends. and they're still out? had he done something to them before this? why can't he remember? where is he? nothing in this room is familiar. everything looks strange and distorted and not right. rand even goes as far as pinching himself to see if maybe he's having a dream, some consequence of being found out as the dragon reborn.

but he does not awaken. he stays right where he is. he doesn't like it.

eventually, rand does put his feet on the ground and crosses to the door, expecting it to open. it doesn't. he tries it again and again until the voice comes and startles him, sending him stumbling back onto the bed. ]

What is this madness?

[ he'd known — accepted — that the one power would drive him mad but so soon? it's not right. he listens, though, to the voice talk of blood and new homes and the only thing he can think of is that he has gone mad already.

rand doesn't want to give this place any of his blood but he doesn't want to be stuck in this room forever either so —

the decision becomes easy as time passes. he cuts his hand on the corner of some piece of furniture and then puts it on the door. it opens and exposes the outside world. rand holds up a hand and winces. ]

Light, what has happened?

— ROLLER RINK

[ rand isn't roller skating. it's not for lack of desire, he just doesn't know how. he'd shown up and spent an inordinately long time just staring at the shoes with wheels on them.

a few people to try to convince him that it's safe but he dismisses each attempt. if he's not on a horse, he's going to walk. he is not going to put roller skates on his feet. he's still sorting through a lot of memories and uncertainty continues to weigh heavily on his shoulders. he doesn't want to add to that by putting something on his feet that was surely going to send him into a wall.

instead, he stands at the edge of the rink and watches. the music is terrible and the lights hurt his eyes but he doesn't leave, standing there and taking in those who are zipping around the rink with ease. ]

— MALLRATS

[ it's beginning to feel familiar, rand not knowing what anything is and what to do with what he's given. he knows what money is, currency, but this isn't any sort of money that he's dealt with before. it's on a hard rectangle and he has to wonder how money can be contained in it.

but, no one answers his questions, leaving him alone to...stand in the middle of the very large, very bright mall, confused. he spins in a circle, holding the gift card before he takes a few steps in one direction.

he has no idea where he's going. please save him. ]

Nancy Sikes | Oliver Twist

[maritorious]

blood sacrifice

[Something is wrong. Nancy knows that the moment she opens her eyes. The dream comes back to her quickly, and before that... She shakes her head, trying to clear it all out as she sits up.

She is both alone and not alone, she realizes. This bed... Oh, if it isn't the most comfortable thing she's ever been on! But this world is so strange. There's a second bed (a second bed!) and someone's in it. A quick peak at the form tells her it's not Bill.

Probably for the best, she thinks.

She spends the next few minutes exploring the room, not even noticing the note on the bedside table. What gets her attention is the strange box with dials. Gingerly, she creeps over to the gray mirror- and she looks awful, she'll be the first to admit it, bruised cheekbone, swelling eye, cut lip- and presses the ON button.

The TV lights up and she screeches, scrambling backward. Sorry about the wakeup.] What in god's name is that thing!

mallrats

[It's just like the market, she's been told. Just bigger. Stores stacked upon stores and indoors. What makes it stranger is the money she's been given. A little strange card she's told is worth $100. If a dollar is anything like a pound, she's bloody fucking rich is what she is! Who just gives out money?

She wants to immediately spend it all. Buy herself some new clothes that look a bit more like what everyone here seems to be wearing, instead of a bloody corset. She likes the trousers women are wearing freely, now. Maybe she'd buy some. Or- or even better yet, find out what smells so deliciously of cinnamon and dough.

She approaches someone chowing down on what looks to be the most beautiful food she's ever seen in her life.] Excuse me, what is that? [She points at the food]

wildcard.
or do your own thing.

mallrats

[druggie]

( A huge, juicy, fat-dripping burger clutched in his skinny hands (one of his hands inked with a tattoo), Jesse halts with his mouth wide, teeth about to sink into it for another bite. He cuts an interrupted glance at the girl, yellow mustard smeared like a half smile along the side of his lips. There's still a mouthful of burger from his last bite that he hasn't fully chewed and swallowed yet, stuffed into his cheek like a chipmunk. Gross. )

Umngh... ( "Um", that's meant to be. He aborts biting into his burger, chewing, working his jaw quickly. He looks like a giant kid with the way he's eating; he's got way too much in his mouth. ) Uts ugh burghbr?

( "It's a burger". In the cardboard tray in front of him on the table he's seated at, messily dolloped with burger mess and oil, is a tangle of fatty fries. And next to that, a tray with four sugary cinnamon donuts and a large takeaway cup of soda. )

ashley williams (evil dead)

[finalboy]

a blood offering.

a. [ Someone's first impulse after awakening in a locked room following what might be the weirdest Foreboding Portent of Things to Come™ would probably be something proactive: break the door down, call for help, look for a window to pry loose. You know, common sense stuff people usually do when they're thrust into a new and frightening situation.

Those people aren't Ash Williams, and the situation, while definitely new, is hardly any more frightening than the last twenty-four(ish) hours he's spent fighting for his life in a cabin that may or may not be alive — sorta. He uneasily watches the other person in the room as they sleep, standing with his back pressed against the wall as far away from their bed as possible. Just a- a precaution, that's all. After the night he's had, a surprise attack from a friendly face wouldn't be left-field at all. The less of those he has from here on out, the better.

At least, he hopes it's a friendly face. Hard to see all of it given how much they've cocooned themselves up in the tacky comforter, but he doesn't see any blood or slips of decaying flesh, so he's just going to assume the best and hope they stay asleep, at least until he gets out of here. After that, who knows? Ash ain't about to tell them how to live their best life, especially if they might not even be alive to begin with.

But when the shape on the bed begins to stir, it seems like the choice is out of his hands. Ash's pulse spikes when the stranger sits up, and he's already slowly edging toward the door by the time they turn their head to him, holding both hands up in... an apology, a gesture of peace, surrender? Hell if he knows, whichever one'll keep them from killing him quicker. ]

Hey, uh— look, before you say anything, can you please — please just hear me out first? I don't have anything to do with this, I swear. I woke up here, same as you. [ He frowns, brow creasing in confusion as his eyes skirt around the room. ] I think?

[ If this really is a hallucination, it's a pretty weird one even by evil soul-sucking cabin standards. ]

b. [ And once the initial wackiness of that first conversation passes and you've both calmed down, it's time to get the hell out of here. No more beating around the bush, no more whining, no more waiting to be rescued — now is the time to buckle down and get serious.

Or you could start trashing the place, that works too.

The nightstand cracks in Ash's hands when he brings it down on the doorknob. Initially the goal had been to simply break the lock, but at some point it evolves into just trying to put a dent in the fucking thing. Sweat beads at his temples as he picks the stand up and tries again, grunting as he all but chucks it at the door, only for it nearly fall to pieces when it hits the ground, landing on the remains of the drawer that had popped out of it somewhere between the second and third attempts. ]

Huh, thought for sure it'd work that time.

[ It didn't work the first five times. ]

Let's tryyyyy... [ He snaps his fingers as he looks around the room for their next victim, eyes landing on the boxy television set sitting in the corner. ] Let's try the TV next.

roller rink.

[ Skating, good music, free stuff — it's like someone took Ash's favorite things and organized a whole party around them. If the circumstances were different, he'd be thrilled, but the sensible part of his brain that's still gripped in fight-or-flight mode and isn't likely to change anytime soon tells him it's too good to be true. He's been to enough of these kinds of events back home to know that there's always a catch. Nobody just gives away Walkmans for free, unless you sign up to buy a timeshare or it's through one of those Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes or something.

Or if you're a half-decent skater, evidently, which the majority of the people here... aren't. Honestly, that surprises Ash more than the fact that, by all appearances, this just seems like a run-of-the-mill roller rink. Last time he checked, it's 1981 — who doesn't know how to skate? ]

First time?

[ Ash carefully weaves around the skating couples in his way until he gets to the person he saw go down on the floor, coming to a smooth stop beside them. He holds his hand out to help them back up on their feet. ]

Here, hold on to my arm— yeah, like that.

[ Something tells Ash to turn on the charm. The little puff-up of his chest and the way his sympathetic smile turns into a crooked grin are his ways of telling the stranger they're in good hands as he leads by example, skating in a semi-circle around them. ]

See? It ain't so bad once y'get used to it. Just gotta keep moving, that's a—

[ Only to lose his balance when another skater zooms past him, causing him to fumble and fall flat on his face with a crash. ]

( Ash's canon point is post-The Evil Dead and somewhere during the first half of Evil Dead II before his hand gets possessed (guess what his curse is going to be). Have an idea for another scene? Drop me a PM and we'll discuss it! )

roller rink

[maritorious]

[Like ice skating her butt! She thought the wheels would work like the blades they'd had for their shoes in the winter, but she'd thought wrong, apparently, sending an already very bruised girl to the floor, skirts spread out around her. She takes a moment to consider her position, sighs, and starts to try to push herself up again. It doesn't work.

Not until a man comes up next to her, and offers a hand.] That obvious, yeah?

[She looks at him, frowning just slightly. He's incredibly handsome, and she likes the way he smiles. About Bill's age, she wouldn't wonder, with a surprising amount of grace. She likes his smile. She takes his hand, hoisting herself up on to two feet.]

Yeah, I suppose you've just got to- [And he's down for the count. Nancy gives a small noise of surprise and now it's her turn to reach down toward him.] Here, let's get you up and you can keep telling me how easy it is.