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

Aoi/"Santa" | 999 Zero Escape series

[21stcenturyguy]

Blood Offering

[Aoi scans the letter on the nightstand, flips it over, then holds it up to the light. Huh. He's not spotting anything that looks like a cypher or a clue. Damn. Well, he's not doing the blood thing, at least, not until he's ruled out any other solutions to this puzzle.

Because of course it's a puzzle. It's always puzzles.

He tosses a pillow at the room's other occupant as he hops out of his bed and heads over to the wall to pull the atrocious picture frame from the hotel wall.]

Hey, get up. Help me look for clues.

[He's already flipping the picture over and checking the back of the frame. This ain't Aoi's first escape room rodeo.]

Roller Rink

This is so fucking lame. [Aoi complains, looking out at the roller rink with disdain. He spots another cursed getting their free Walkman, though, which catches his interest.]

Huh. That's kinda retro. [His resolve wavers. He rubs a hand through his hair as he looks around the rink. Trying to gauge if there's anyone around cool enough that he'd care about impressing.]

Mallrats

[Welp, it's straight to Hot Topic Oblivion for this guy. He's got the pair of arm warmers he came in with, but he obviously needs more. Maybe a cool belt or two. Some clunkier boots.

He's got his gift card, but that's not going to get him very far in terms of expanding his wardrobe.]

So, you think they take credit here?

Blood Offering -- haven't finished 999 yet but I MUST

[janescayre]

((Also if you'd rather have her saner half just say the word, PM me or reply here and I'll swap her in. It's no trouble to me!))


[What a colossal mistake they've made. Oh, sure, she's retired. It's been ages since Syo's dabbled in old habits, there's a few promises there she intends to keep. An ordinary life seems like a swell adventure, and she's been such a good girl so far! Like hell she'll blow her shot now.

But locking her in a room with a total cutie? No chaperones in sight, no witnesses? Might as well dangle steak into a lion's den.

Syo catches the pillow, one brow quirked and a creeping grin cutting across her cheeks. As he passes by she returns the volley, nailing him square on the ass.]

Don't dish it out if you can't take it!

[But no matter. They have a job to do. And the quicker they get out, the quicker she's away from temptation. Syo vaults off her bed and beelines to the closet. She flings it open and bends into the cavity.]

Hmm...no skeletons in the closet. Not yet anyway. [She roots around on the top shelf, standing on tip toe.] Saaaay, what was on that little note you had? Did someone leave you a love letter?

[They better not have. It'd spoil her fun, even if she's got to keep it in the realm of fantasy. Count your lucky stars little man.]

mallrats

[funhinged]

[ Stede, meanwhile, isn't in here for fashion sense reasons at all. He's mostly in here for raw curiosity and "well the dragon statue looks cool" reasons, admiring craftsmanship on all those sorts of little curios.

Not that anything in the mall is a good 1:1 for his specific clothing experience, when it gets down to it. ]

Well, bartering and credit haven't gone over especially well for me at the other shops. I guess it's not really the "in" thing in these parts. [ That's one way to put it talking about the economy but okay. ] But it probably can't hurt to check if you're wondering about it. The worst thing they'll do say no.

blood offering

[funguy]

[ Joel comes to with a swearing jerk away from the attacking pillow, and muscle memory has him reaching for a gun. But the nightstand has nothing on it except a letter, and his belt is conspicuously absent of its usual holster.

He blinks rapidly, reeling from the strange dream. Nothing about the scene changes. The only other person in the room is some kid who is... investigating the back of some very ugly motel art? Joel squints, too confused to be angry yet but still far less at ease with the situation than his cohabitant; after all, it's his first time being on this side of a kidnapping.

He keeps half an eye on the stranger while he gets out of bed, grabbing the letter to scan. ]

What in the hell is this? And what are you doin' with that?

Wren Fulton | OC

[shrikesback]

1. A Blood Offering
Wren wakes up from the nightmare gasping, sitting up and looking around the unfamiliar room as confusions sets in. It does look dated to Wren - but not by a whole lot. The same way a dentist's office looks dated, that only has a chance to update its decor every decade or so. Looking like the 80s from the perspective of the late 90s just means 'oh, it's cheap'. Shifting on the bed, they get their legs under them a moment later and relieved to find they're not unsteady when they stand.

That's when they notice the note.

Reading it over, they of course have to try the handle first, see it locked. Alright. Situation assessed, they rather awkwardly finally give some attention to the other person in the room with them.

"... I'll do it," they say, giving a nod to the note. "Just help me find something sharp enough."

2. Roller-rink
Their powers don't work. It's a weird feeling.

Wren's used the time between leaving the room and the skate party to find someplace secret to try just about everything, but they're weaker, they can't fly, and they almost got hit by a car when crossing the street so that means the danger sense is shot too.

No need to hide some secret identity then. They're just a normal teenager. Somehow it doesn't feel like what they really wanted, though.

Also, tying shoelaces with one hand bandaged from getting out of the room earlier is more difficult than it should be. Not that Wren would actually ask for help, just continue to bullheadedly push forward with one bandaged hand at half speed in the booths near the rink, swearing under their breath.

3. Mallrats
The walkman came with a cassette for Coal Miner's Daughter: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack in it. Sissy Spacek singing some of the best country western available. At least, not being a country fan in the least, Wren assumes that's the case.

It's not painful to listen to or anything, but it sure as hell isn't Wren's style either. So while they'd been intending to save all of that $100 gift certificate, well… Not dying of boredom and bad music is worth breaking into it a little bit.

So as they stand in La Pointe Music Shop, they ask the occasional other customer that comes by-

"Day at the Races or Night at the Opera? If you could get only one."

Sure they could afford both, but they're trying really hard to not get rid of the only potential money they have available at the moment.

4 (Wildcard?)

[Or, you know, run into Wren while they are in fact trying to learn the lay of the land in the mall and/or town, mapping it out like the giant nerd they are. Wren's a teenage superhero currently depowered, from the mid-late 90s, with more info on their journal. Mind, lack of powers won't stop them from trying to intervene if they see trouble...

I tend to default to prose because being on mobile more often than not means less formatting the better, but I'll match styles.]

mallrats :>

[bodyoftheseus]

V couldn't complain too much about the mystery tape he'd received but it would be a lie if he said he didn't want to see if there was something in LP's that he was familiar with. He'd love to get his hands on a vinyl player and some SAMURAI records, or maybe something from Bea Sting. He just wanted something familiar.

He stopped at the question when it was asked and had to take a moment to look for who asked it. At first, he wasn't sure what to make of the question, but then he realized that they were asking about two albums. He'd never heard of them so they likely weren't an artist that he knew but even he listened to the radio and didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of all music ever made. Anymore, at least.

"Don't know, never heard either. Who's the artist?"

billy hargrove | stranger things

[otherbitches]

A Blood Offering

[ Here’s the thing. Billy died. Half crazed and out of his mind, suppressed and stuck, until a little slip of a girl got in there and rattled him enough for him to wrestle control. Enough to grab on to a giant monster made of meat and rot and to… die.

Except not so much. The dream feels crazy, maybe a last-ditch spasm of chemicals, and he wakes up feeling better than he has in months in a motel not unlike the one he was going to fuck Karen Wheeler in. He sits up real slow. Stares at his sleeping companion like they’re both ghosts. ]

What are you in for?

Roller Rink

All this and a free Walkman? Christ, what a deal.

[ He says to whoever’s nearest to him, voice drawling and sarcastic, though he’s not really paying attention to them, still thinking about how his limbs feel, how it feels to use them himself and to not be fucking dead. Roller-skating is fine. He’s good at it. It’s how he got to second base with Jenny in California back when second base with girls was the goal, not getting their skirts off.

This is all fucking crazy, and the Curse sits at the back of his brainstem. How much is it gonna be like the big fucking monster? Who knows. But he’s not feeling real keen on making friends right now. Still, he’s got the roller skates in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. Hey, it’s the ‘80s,’ you can smoke anywhere, can’t you? ]

Mall Rats

[ Jesus Christ. A mall? Billy laughs like a hyena outside the main doors, kind of like a maniac. This is a really good joke, mayor! But he’s got a hundred-fucking-bucks and that’s not too bad. Enough for some better cassettes than the mystery tape. Maybe even a change of clothes.

If you ignore the laughter and catch him inside the mall, he gives a beautiful buttery looking leather jacket in Paradiso a forlorn look, but eventually gets lost in La Pointe, picking through whatever the fuck’s come out between 1985 and 1989. Wild. There’s a lot.

Later, he stands in the food court like a ghost until he laughs again, kind of a cackle. Holy shit. Holy shit. He died here! Sort of. Not here, but, it feels like… it was yesterday. He needs a burger. He still has enough cash for that, right? He gets in line and says: ]

I’d kill for a steak.

[ He laughs again, a little fucking crazy. What was the Hawkins body count? He stopped counting, couldn’t tear his eyes away though. Watched the whole thing. ]

[ Feel free to go off script, and tag in any of the mall location he breezes by/through. Or — something else? ]

mall rats

[energyfieldgood]

[Okay. What do you want to hear from an absolute stranger after you have been abducted from your homeworld and dumped in creepy Nostalgialand?

Not that.

Rodney turns around, giving Billy a weird look as he seizes him up. It starts in a stare and ends in a frown. Maybe half a step back to bring some distance between them.]

What, like, literally, or are you just trying to cut in line?

[Because he is starving and he's weighing his options here. Yes, there is mortal peril but there is also the prospect of junk food - and right now hunger trumps potentially murderous person?]

blood offering

[bodyoftheseus]

[ Their similarities began with them both having died before arriving here. V liked to tell himself that he gave himself up so that Johnny could have a second chance - it had nothing to do with the exhaustion of years working their hardest to grind him down. Perhaps this was why he hesitated to stir.

He was supposed to dissolve in the digital sea that the netrunner formally known as Alt was but he was waking up in some shitty motel instead. This place was dated, sure, but this bed he was wrapped up in was the nicest he'd ever been in, and the place didn't smell of booze, and drugs, and sex. He was comfortable and he felt like he'd actually slept for once. Maybe this was the second reason he didn't wish to wake up.

He stiffened at the voice of a stranger behind him but made it a point to act relaxed as he sat up and looked at his roommate. V was examining him, taking stock of if he seemed to be a threat or not. ]

'Pparently a good night's rest. You?

roller rink;

[stevieboy]

[ Steve isn't the one nearest to Billy. He's actually on the rink, long past his one required lap because what the hell else is he going to do right now, going around the corner when his eyes catch sight of Billy. It's enough to make him double-take. The last time he'd seen Billy Hargrove had been at Starcourt, then he'd stood at Billy's grave while trying to keep his sister safe from Vecna.

In the midst of his rapid fire thoughts, Steve's forgotten about skating. Someone nearly trips over him and pushes him, his skates coming out from under him as he hits the floor. Fantastic. He mutters an apology, then something a little more annoyed than that as he pushes himself back up. The good news (bad news) is that he ate it close to the entrance to the rink, close to where Billy is, and he skates to the sideboards just to make sure he's not seeing a literal ghost. ]

Hargrove?

blood offering!!!

[sprintbursts]

[ after mostly dozing on the ground for some indeterminate amount of time that feels like a lifetime, the bed's too soft. Meg sleeps, but the dreams are weird, more vivid than they usually are. she hears a voice, different from the usual murmur that both lulls her to sleep and wakes her up, and her eyes open into little slits.

her first thought is that she hasn't dreamed like that in a long time ... and her second thought is more like a realization. there's a bed, a blanket, a pillow, and she's up on her feet in an instant, assuming that she must have gone insane and fallen asleep in Haddonfield ... but they're in a faded hotel room, something ripped out of a dated movie, and there's some stranger staring at her from the next bed. ]

Ummmm ...

[ #panique. when Meg looks around, her braids fly, and before he can say anything else she darts to the door, fumbles with the chain and starts yanking on the doorknob. it's locked, which means she gets one foot up on the door and yanks harder. ]

Help! I'm being kidnapped!!!

[ where is the CAMPFIRE?!?! ]

Roller Rink

[dovetouched]

[Billy isn't exactly the most approachable guy in the room, but he's the first person who doesn't work at the rink that Bella has heard talk about the prize they're hawking, regardless of sarcasm.

She'll take what she can get.]

Pardon! If I could trouble you for just a moment... [Noble speak probably won’t work on him, but it doesn't hurt.] What is a "Walkman"?

daryl dixon | the walking dead

[vestigial]

█ a blood offering—

[ As if being passively infected with an apocalyptic disease isn't bad enough.

There's someone else in the room, but Daryl doesn't recognize them, and he's not feeling particularly patient. He tries the door, then tries the door again, and then tries it in a different way, which is slamming his entire body into it shoulder first, resulting in a loud (pointless) BANG!

His shoulder hurts and the door hasn't moved, which feels insulting. Is he really getting that old.

Mumbled bitching under his breath, he stalks back to the nightstand to grab the note and read it. His drawn expression doesn't change, even when he tosses it aside. ]

Fine. [ He removes his knife from its holster. ] You up? I don't want to have to do this twice.

█ mallrats—

[ So, maybe he's lost his mind.

Daryl is willing to accept that. Even before zombies walkers happened, he'd had enough small, odd experiences to believe that, maybe, the supernatural was real. It allowed him to tumble into the end of days without having a nervous breakdown in the process. This is something else for sure, way beyond running into a vampire, or some shit, but he doesn't seem to be waking up.

Considering he looks like exactly what he is - a refugee from the actual apocalypse, caked in dirt and grime and gore in entirely too many states of age - he should be shopping for new clothes. Instead, he's dumping an entire blue raspberry Slurpee into his face while ordering more pizza.

Only dripping a little blood still. From the door shit.

Next: one of these places has to have cigarettes, surely. ]

( ooc: season 6 ish, i guess?? i live in the past. also idk about curses yet + feel free to do prose or brackets, i am ezpz. )

Mallrats

[shrikesback]

What in the thunderdome…?

[There's another thing Daryl looks like, too - a kind of person it's perfectly in-line with the normality of places to see dirty and going whole ham on some mall court food from a gift certificate like he hasn't had a good meal in months.

Generally speaking those people are found on street corners screaming at God. Wren would have assumed that too except they're pretty sure they caught sight of him at the roller-rink before, at least briefly, enough to figure he's one of the displaced people like they are.

So, carefully, with no sudden movements and making certain to avoid coming from a blind spot, Wren approaches Daryl and stops just outside of reach.

Unlike him they look completely in-place for a teenager, they're only ten years out of date for this era after all. ]

Hey - are you alright? You … look like you've been through a lot lately.

(OOC: also still figuring out curse stuff myself- I watched a few seasons of Walking Dead a while ago so I'm in 'I have approximate knowledge of many things' territory)

nick gant | push

[pushed]

blood offering.

That was definitely a little too much baijiu.

[because nick wakes with a headache that would stop a horse, and he doesn't recognize this room, and he especially doesn't remember who the sleeping person in the other bed is.

and what the hell was that dream?

whatever. maybe he's a jerk, but he really doesn't like getting caught up in a lot of drama, so he's definitely going to try to sneak out before the other person wakes up. only that goes about as well as most things in his life have. luck is not always on nick gant's side, which leaves him sighing heavily and discovering the note when there's nothing left to do but take a look around the cheap motel room for a way out.]

Blood...? [his brow furrows, and after he finishes reading he actually goes to wake the other person up.] Hey, do you know anything about this?

mallrats.

[yeah, he's going straight to the food court before the mayor changes their mind and wants their gift card back. he even glances back over his shoulder like he thinks someone might be coming for him right now. it makes him look a little paranoid, but old habits die hard.

it also means that he's not watching where he's going.]

Whoa, sorry.

[he sidesteps just in time, and he would've just kept right on going. but his nose tells him that he's reached his destination.

now for the hard part. pizza? chinese?]

A salad bar? Seriously?

wildcard.

[follow your heart.]

this fever dream of a movie omg. bless. (mallrats)

[90secondsafter]

[Eleanor wasted no time in pulling on the red cable sweater and black jeans on once she purchased them, white sneakers and t-shirt in respective places. So it's her bag with her old clothing in it that he almost takes out, thankfully, as he moves to the food court.]

No harm done. [She gives a tired sort of smile, the collar of her sweater hiding the bruising on her throat. And then she follows his gaze to the salad bar.]

I wouldn't even trust them at home, to be honest. Almost worse than Subway tuna. [She's been glancing mostly at the pizza place herself, sometimes a nice cheese pizza is all you need. That and a soda to wash it down.]

Noctis Lucis Caelum | FFXV

[somnious]

A. Blood Offering

[With the number of strange dreams he's been having recently, thanks to the Astrals being active again, it was hard, for a moment, to separate what was real and what a dream. When Noctis opens his eyes, he does think he's still dreaming because the room, while similar to the one they were staying in, is still different. Bigger. No moldy and torn wallpapers either.

But he feels a sting in his eyes and decides that he's actually, unfortunately, awake. And he groggily sits up, taking his time to look around the room. There's someone else curled up on the other bed and he's already feeling weird- what the hell happened here?

Boots still on his feet, he gets up and instantly goes to the door.]

Of course, it's locked, [he mutters to himself after trying the doorknob for a few times, even tempted to kick it. Instead, he turns around and starts looking for anything that will open it. The note goes without being inspected- he knows it's not his and he does have some sort of respect for other people's stuff.]


B. Roller Rink

Well, this is outdated, [Noctis takes a seat at one of the tables, turning the walkman around in his hands. He's expecting to be something up with this thing, especially as his "stay" here started off with a blood offering.

He looks up when someone approaches-] ...do you know why we got these? [He asks after a moment of pause.] I don't think people are feeling like listening to music right now. [He knows he isn't.]


C. Mall Rats

1. [Noctis has been wandering around the mall for some time now, not really visiting anything just yet. He doesn't know what he needs, aside from food, so he's trying not to blow his money even though he really wants to.

He stops at the shop that sells kitchen cutlery and everything a kitchen would need, which makes him get lost in the thought of thinking about Ignis and the guys, camping, and everything else. He takes a quick, clumsy step back when one of the salesmen comes out to try and sell him some kitchen knives.]

Nope, sorry, I don't cook. [...man he misses Ignis' cooking. He's had nothing but dry toast since this morning.]

2. [Food court is where he eventually ends up because crackers and toast won't do it for him, and there's a bigger chance he'd set the kitchen on fire rather than cook something properly. He should probably get stocked up on noodles- a mental note.

There's a huge line in front of the pizza place and Noct tries to peer around over people's shoulders then slouches back, crossing his arms.]

...Is this place that good?

D. Wildcard

[ooc: make your own starter or PM me and I'll make us one specific :) ]

C-1

[majimekun]

[Deuce can't help but notice the exchange and after a moment, stepped in because yeah.]

Listen, he doesn't want one. Besides, what's he going to do with a knife that can shave a penny?

[The salesman was about to start up again when Deuce held up his hand and gave a little glare.]

Joyce Byers | Stranger Things

[savethem]

A Blood Offering

What the Hell is going on? The first thought when she woke was one she'd had all too frequently for the past few years. She wasn't at home, though waking up in California had given her that shock enough that it'd become almost part of her alarm clock.

It wasn't Hawkins, which would have brought a whole pack of its own issues. She'd packed up and left for the safety of her family, not just her children but the lovey girl she'd more or less dragged into her household and adopted. Events had made them family, and she planned to do everything she could to keep them safe and healthy and happy. Even if life was set on being hard regardless of where they were.

But this was someplace new, and with her experience that wasn't a good thing. She had a few seconds of that disorientation as her eyes blinked open before she shot up in bed and looked around and demanded, "Where are my kids?"



Roller Rink

Joyce was still cradling her poorly wrapped arm from her offering, and used that arm to hold a pair of skates against her side. If she had any chance of finding the boys or El she needed to get out to look for them. This seemed like a place people were getting together so it made sense to come here.

She hadn't been on skates in...whew, a while. But how hard could it be, right? Just eight wheels and balance, she could do this again. Of course, she had to get the skates on first, so she tucked herself into a bench and tugged on the boots, shoving her heel down hard into them. She wiggled them on and tied the laces tight before taking an experimental stand.

She knew she was in trouble shortly after stepping her way to the polished rink floor. She reached for the rails along the wall, holding on to them to keep her upright while she got used to skating again. But that would have been easier had she not collided with the person in front of her.


Mallrats

The gift card was, well, one hundred dollars could buy a lot. At least where she was from. Here she wasn't sure but it didn't matter, not until she found out if her kids were here. They were her first priority and she had to know if they were here, if they were ok, and if not then how could she get back to them?

Still, it was a little hard to not be distracted by the lights, the sounds, the smells of the mall. Forgive her if she is a little deer in headlights at one of the major intersections looking at the mall map to plan out where she was going to go first.

Mallrats

[maritorious]

Joyce was not the only person so completely mystified at the mall. Nancy was right there with her. If Joyce was a deer in headlights, Nancy was a fish out of water, dressed in the very same dress she had been murdered in. But corsetry and big skirts were clearly not in.

"It's all a bit overwhelming, innit?" She asks the woman, her Cockney accent betraying her country of origin. "I don't even know where to begin." She shakes her head in wonder. First things first, she supposes, she needs clothes. Something that makes her stick out a little less, ideally.

robin buckley ▶ stranger things

[decoder]

— a blood offering

❰ it takes robin longer to wake up than most. she's asleep, suddenly feeling much more well-rested than usual. waking up, it's evident why: the motel bed is much more comfortable than her usual mattress, that hasn't been switched out in probably close to 10 years, pulled out of the back of an old van and who knows how old it was from then.

groggily, she blinks at her surroundings. this is in line with her own time period but...she's been in a hotel before for traveling band competitions, but it's been a while. her parents weren't in any position to be vacationing folk...so when did she show up here? how? sitting up straight, totally awake now, the atmosphere isn't threatening. nothing feels off except her switch in setting. after a cursory glance around for clues, robin spots the letter, reads it...

oh. hmm. nevermind, something is super off.

testing the theory espoused within the letter, she jumps out of bed and tries to open the door. pushing, pulling, jiggling the handle. nope, nothing. robin turns and leans against it, breath catching in her throat. so it is locked, which means that the rest of the letter has a high probability of being true. ❱

So, this...uh. Kind of an extreme episode of Candid Camera, huh? ❰ her laugh is nervous, flipping her letter around to showcase it's what she's referencing. robin isn't typically claustrophobic, but suddenly the walls seem to be pushing in ever so slightly... ❱

— roller rink

❰ you might think that clearing a lap around a roller rink seems easy...and for most, it is. despite previously being involved in sports, robin isn't at all the most coordinated person in the world. even standing in roller skates is a chore, so her attempts at wobbling around the rink are...pathetic. most of the time is spent holding the bar around the side, pulling herself forward on shaking legs.

during one attempt to free herself from being stuck on the sidelines, she pushes herself off from the wall with all the confidence she can muster. it's a success!!— for about two seconds. robin is propelled forward a few feet before either:

a) tripping over someone, potentially causing a pile-up
b) tripping onto you and shouting: ❱

Shit, shit— I'm so sorry, fuck!

— mallrats

❰ is robin still completely lacking in trust as to what's going on here? yes. is she going to say no to a hundred dollar gift card? absolutely not.

left to her own devices, robin has slid into the alternative clothing store, oblivion. she doesn't know anyone here...but people are still people, and it doesn't mean her guard can be completely down. she's found a wrack of clothes that's far enough in the store that anyone who's actively shopping wouldn't think twice about her being there; no on-lookers from the outside can see her to cast judgment.

one hundred dollars is quite a bit of money, even for alternative clothes, and it's hard to choose something to buy...or maybe she won't buy something, but looking is nice too. one particular selection is a plaid pair of pants in red and black, long enough to just hit the floor on her and tight in the waist with some movement in the trouser legs. robin pulls the option from the wrack, admiring it. she's never worn anything so bold, but god would she like to. ❱

Sick. ❰ it's whispered to herself as she flips the hanger around in her hand, admiring how it has both front and back pockets. pretty sick indeed. ❱

roller rink

[westviews]

[Wanda wouldn't consider herself graceless, but she's clumsier without her powers. Slower, she thinks, even if it's not so. Still, she's out here on skates, attempting to keep herself upright with one hand on the side of the rink until a body collides with her and she tries to not go down. This might mean a comically slow fall, between her trying to hold onto the railing and maybe holding onto the person at fault for this.]

Watch out.

[No harm, no foul, but Wanda's not exactly in a great mood.]

Alec Lightwood | Shadowhunters (TV)

[flatly]

BLOOD OFFERING

Alec is the first to wake up. He considers that lucky, because he spends what turns out to be a very undignified few minutes trying to get literally any of his runes to work. Even the ones in his weapons—a massive bow, a quiver of arrows, and a sword, which honestly look ridiculous on him considering his otherwise very 21st century clothes—are completely inactive. Not a whisper of light or power from any of them. They're essentially just a smattering of nonsensical looking black tattoos across his skin.

That's... worrisome.

But what about this situation isn't worrisome? Getting himself back under control and glancing around does not really clear things up, but Alec eventually makes his way around the bed he woke up in to kick at one leg of the other bed, trying to jostle its occupant awake without being directly in flailing range if they're the swing first, ask questions later kind of morning person. (Alec knows a few of those.) Or just to end the ruse if they're pretending to be asleep, it's possible.

But inconvenient for him, so: "Get up," he says by way of greeting, bossy. What a way to start the day. When he's satisfied he's not going to catch any hands, he ventures close enough to pick up the letter on the nightstand between their beds, and reads up to a handprint's worth out loud. Putting blood on the door absolutely screams of activating some ward or spell, but Alec has no idea what type. If only Magnus were here to consult...

Trying not to think too hard about that, Alec scoffs and tosses the letter back down onto table. "Yeah, we're not doing that," he has apparently decided this for everyone in the room, sorry. Eventually he will figure out that he's not actually in charge here.

MALL RAT

Alec looks (and feels) very out of place in the mall. For however much his life has actually been harrowing, violent and dangerous, whatever amount of hard living he's done it has not been done without deep, deep pockets and a lot of old money. He can budget for an institute with something resembling restraint, but even the plain black shirt and pants he came into town wearing were probably made in a pointlessly fancy Italian boutique and cost a completely stupid sum of money.

(He took one look at the Paridiso logo on every article of clothing they sold and immediately left the mall's fanciest store without even considering that his $100 gift card would be next to useless there. Listen. The Aesthetic is Important.)

Which is what finds him smack in the middle of the food court, looking admittedly a bit snooty about the choices on offer around him (Hot Doggy's and Chicken Wingz both draw particularly dubious looks.) It's not like he's never had cheap food—the institute's cafeteria food is not particularly fancy—it's just that this is definitely (and visibly) not his scene. But even without the staring that he's doing he'd probably stand out, being a fairly towering figure at 6'3" with broad shoulders and a stark black tattoo across the side of his neck that makes it clear he's never had to worry about interviewing for a day job in his life. He's dressed in black from head to toe (black boots, black jeans, black t-shirt and black leather jacket), which would be downright normal if it weren't for the recurve bow slung across his back. Because of course he keeps that with him, even when going shopping.

Turns out you can take the man out of the genre schlock tv, but you can't take the genre schlock out of the man. Or maybe he's just getting a snack before an extremely half-assed LARPing session, who knows?

He's not, but still. "Is there anything good here?" Please help him. Clearly, he needs it.

mallrats

[shrikesback]

Yeah, Alec really sticks out like a sore thumb. Wren has a few moments where they debate not doing anything, but they wouldn't be a masked vigilante back home if they were physically capable of minding their own business.

At least Wren's used to talking with tall people, and at 5'7" Alec isn't quite as starkly taller than someone shorter would have to deal with. Still, 'rich goth' is Wren's first impression, though they try to not let it show. Everyone has different ways of handling shock and being in a crisis, and maybe in Alec's world he's totally normal. Wren on the other hand mostly blends in with their worn jeans and t-shirt… even if the Nirvana smiley logo on the shirt is technically three-ish years away from existing here.

"It's mall food, it's not really good so much as available," Wren points out. "What do you usually like?"

They can find something. Besides, $100 goes for a lot more in this era.

cirilla fiona elen riannon aka ciri | the witcher

[ashenlass]

— A BLOOD OFFERING

[ Ciri turned her face against the humming glow of the table lamp into a pillow that smelled of dust and something astringent that tickled the back of her nose. Palms flat on the mattress, she pushed herself up with a groan as chainmail rattled against the sword still strapped to her back. If she must confess, this wasn't the worst place she had woken up in or even the worst nightmare. The bed wasn't stuffed with straw, and there was no scrambling of rats under the furniture or in the walls. Her skin wasn't even crawling from being a late-night meal for mites. So aside from the kidnapping and the abiding awareness that something was terribly, horribly wrong, she was rather comfortable.

Which only left the letter and that pesky feeling nagging at the back of her mind. Anyone in the room who had woken up around the same time as Ciri would see the young woman start moving around the room. Cursing under her breath about other worlds and their 'new sciences' before making for the door. ]

Alright. [ Ciri announced, facing the door with the stubborn vigor of something catching its second wind before drawing the longsword strapped to her back. The metal sang as it slid from the sheath and glinted in the room's sickly yellow light. ] Any volunteers?

— ROLLER RINK

[ Trading blades for four little plastic wheels on each shoe was not the seamless transition Ciri had hoped it would have been. Years of honing her ice skating to a proficient art wintering on the isles of Skellige should have made this instinctively easy. Apparently not. Ciri had been hugging the rink wall for the first ten minutes with a newborn fawn's gracelessness.

Eventually, with a lot of swearing and knees that were going to be black and blue by the next morning, Ciri found her footing. Not content to simply do the lap around the rink, Ciri quickly picked up the pace. She pivoted and pirouetted with a dancer's flair around the others and weaved the last stretch backward with a self-satisfied smile playing on her face.

When she received her prize, Ciri turned the walkman over in her hands a few times — before shrugging and tossing it on a nearby bench without a second thought. That might have been important, but she had no blessed clue what was being foisted on her. ]

— MALL RATS

Is there really money in this thing? [ Ciri asked the nearest person that didn't strike her as a local. Consonants slid messily over her tongue as she spoke around mouthfuls of a comically large soft pretzel in one hand while holding up her gift card in the other. Just moments ago, she had been clearly mystified watching the cashier swipe her card, and it magically satisfied the barter for the salty monstrosity she was still wolfing down. ]

Roller Rink!

[janescayre]

[Where Ciri has succeeded, Fukawa has failed. It's not that she's given up yet, no. No, she's not that girl any longer, not when it counts. She just needs to regroup. Suppress the urge to cry. You can only fall on your ass so many times in front of complete strangers before you start to take it personally.

It's during this bitter retreat to safety that she notices another woman chuck her prize on a bench. Her eyes trail up from the walkman to the ungrateful offender. Oh sure, she's dressed like a total weirdo — a lot of people were, and she's getting a feeling it's indicative of some bullshit "alternate universe" crap — but that's no excuse. Not when there could be a clue from their captors on that tape. It's the only lead they've been given so far, and she's just gonna chuck it away like a banana peel?]

Are you serious? [Fukawa is still bent and gripping at the railing, easing the tension off her mightily bruised bottom, the very image of a losing contestant. That doesn't mean she can't heckle the winner.] You g-got all the way around the rink and now you're just gonna sq-squander your prize?!

victor "vice" bleeket | oc

[outputs]

1 / blood offering

[ After the dream he's just had, Vice feels like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. He's never called it a curse, but there are some nasty unknown forces he's been using and abusing and that must be why he's here. He wants to tell the mayor that it's cool, that maybe the world should just stop turning when he's well and done with it, but he doubts that'll convince them.

He sits up and takes in his surroundings. This wouldn't be the worst motel he's ever passed out in, cheap as it looks. Maybe it was all just some fever dream. Even the stranger in the other bed doesn't clock him as unusual.

The letter does, though. And the fact that the door seems locked beyond anyone's ability to pick it makes it even worse. ]

Well, damn. [ He sits back down on the lumpy bed, looking over at his new companion. ] Seems like we're in quite the situation here.

[ If it comes down to it, he'll bleed to get out. But he wants to have a little fun first and see if he can't convince the other person to bleed for him instead. ]

2 / mallrats

[ The first thing he does is head straight for La Pointe and start flipping through the records. He's got no desire to spend the $100 right now (hell, he's got half a mind to spit in the mayor's face for offering him such a pittance) but he does want to know what the music scene is like here.

And, more importantly, if they've got any of his stuff in stock.

There are bands he recognizes, something he initially takes as a good sign until he flips straight from The Cars to Cheap Trick with nothing in between. Not even a fucking card with his band's name written on it to show that there's at least a section for it even if it's sold out. ]

Come on, come on. [ He flips through records frantically, hoping someone here just sucks at alphabetizing, but no dice. ] Fucking bullshit.

[ He mumbles his curses under his breath out of frustration, but doesn't really care who's around to hear. The fact that fucking Lynyrd Skynyrd is a universal constant but he's not seems deeply, deeply unfair. ]

wildcard

[ ooc: I don't have his info written up in detail yet but thought I'd give him a go here. the tl;dr of it is he's an analog horror-flavored rock star from the 1970s who literally feeds off his fanbase, can imbue recordings of his music with harmful and addictive properties, and is just a huge diva to boot.

feel free to hit me up at dandymott for plotting! ]

2

[shrikesback]

[Given Wren is wearing the t-shirt they left home in featuring the wonky smiley face and 'NIRVANA' across the top - look, they're assuming Victor is equally disappointed to find some bands - or at least their best stuff - doesn't really exist yet. Being the over-achiever they are, they made a point to learn every damn face that was trapped here in the similar circumstances so they know who could be safely talked to about it, too. So it's with sympathy Wren approaches at the swearing, looking at the list of rock music under 'C', wondering which band is missing.]

... They don't have your stuff?

[They mean, like, the band you want to listen to. Literal meaning of 'your stuff' being entirely accidental here.]

[3inches]

1. Blood Offering

Bad dreams weren’t a new phenomenon for Jim Hopper. He’d felt the sting of loss so deep that it had broken him for a while. His job put him in a position to see some of the worst of what people were capable of. And there was the inexplicable things that he’d seen over the last couple years. The things that people outside of Hawkins would never believe.

Instead of jolting him awake, he rolls over to his side and shakes out his right hand. The feeling of pins and needles started in the palm and radiated out to the fingertips and up to the elbow. That was … new. Had he slept on his arm funny?

His thoughts were interrupted by the message. A message that put a lot more questions in his head than it had bothered to answer. A deep frown settled on his face and he rose from bed to check on the door. He wanted to be certain that it wasn’t dangerous and be sure there really wasn’t any other way to get it open.



2. Roller Rink

Going to a party after having just gotten out of a locked room wouldn’t have been in the top one hundred things that he would normally think to do. But. It’s not like he had any good leads that would help him find out more about what was going on.

Going to the event would, at least, give him some idea of who else had arrived here. If other people’s experience of waking up in a locked room had been the same. It there was anyone here that he knew.

At the moment, Hop is nestled in an old fashioned stool at the snack bar. Now was the the perfect time to get a Coke to drink — before the place really filled up and more people where around.


3. Mallrats

Jim hasn’t attempted to enter the mall yet. Instead he was looking at the exterior thoughtfully while smoking a cigarette.

He’d heard of a lot of promotions to get people into big box stores, but giving away a hundred dollars so that people could shop? That was something he couldn’t help feeling suspicious about. They couldn’t think that getting people there was offset that much of a freebie.

But then … everything about this place made him suspicious. Making him open a door with blood seemed to bring that out of him

Mallrats

[losers_club]

"Hey, you don't happen to have a light, do you?" A woman with shoulder-length red hair and a pale freckled complexion paused a few feet from him. She stopped digging through her purse and held up her cigarette.

"I know, I should quit... again, but it's my emotional support vice." She half smiled and went quiet. Something about her was at once confident and proud but also to a person trained in reading people, fragile.

It showed in the way her eyes darted around like an animal checking its surroundings constantly. And it showed in the darkened, bruised skin near her writ that was mostly covered by her long sleeves, only peeking out when she moved to hold up her unlit cigarette.

Max Mayfield » Stranger Things

[onlycould]

1. « Roller Rink »
^{❝ A rubberband bouncing back to life ❞}

[ She's here for the walkman, or at least that's what she's telling herself. Lose herself in the music and keep herself grounded so Vecna couldn't find her here. But something felt wrong about celebrating considering everything she'd been through. The questions she still had. Was she dead? Waking up had been a nightmare. At least more of a nightmare than a blessing. She'd accepted her death, had welcomed it after it was clear she wasn't going to be saved. She deserved it, that had been her narrative, the guilt and grief all too consuming.

One moment, excruciating pain... The next? Wiping blood on a door like it's no big deal and rollerskating to celebrate. Somehow, not the weirdest 24 hours of her life. But she can't quite snap back into a false sense of normal. Even if doing a lap for a stupid walkman is daunting, her back pressed against the wall as she watches other people looking so carefree.

Screw that. If this was a weird fragmented afterlife, she wasn't going to be scared of it. She's a kid, who wouldn't love to stay up late and skate on someone else's dime? Attempt to blend in and pretend nothing's wrong and she's not cursed? Sure. She gets through this, she can come back to life. No more broken bones. No more Vecna. Maybe no more apocalypse. She could at least help them fight it so no one else has to read a letter to her tombstone.

After a possibly long face journey against the wall, she kicks off and makes a beeline to do her lap - lose herself in the adrenaline that comes with wheels. Apologies to anyone who possibly gets in the way of a teen on a mission to test the boundaries of her freshly healed body. ]

2. « Mallrats »
^{❝ And I'd get him to swap our places ❞}

[ Malls... She hasn't set foot in a mall since -- it gives her pause, standing outside the main entry doors locked in a memory -- an expression of fight or flight through the tenseness of her posture. She should be excited, a teenager being given $100 and free access to the mall with no supervision or approval of what she buys? Dream. But this one looks a little too close to their mall at home. Headphones at the ready and the walkman attached to the waist of her jeans, she sucks it up and heads in. This isn't home - this isn't Starcourt. She manages to take three steps in before the blood starts pounding in her ears, eyes watering as her breathing quickens and she can't get out of there fast enough. The spider monster and Billy...

Billy.

Shit. She can't do this. She can't do this. She can't be here. She doesn't deserve a second chance after everything. This was all wrong. Lucas should be here. Or Eleven. Or any of the others. Why her?

If she could see herself from the outside looking in, she'd be embarrassed. A fifteen-year-old girl having a sobbing panic attack outside of the mall. Insane, really. In another life, she'd have walked past someone like her while rolling her eyes and making a beeline for the food court. Crazy how much can change. ]

3. « Wildcard »
^{❝ living in the gap between past and future ❞}

[ #yolo - feel free to find her being a wallflower at the skating rink, trying on too many clothes, or passed out in the motel room almost impossible to wake up with dried bloody tears under her eyes. ]

mallrats~

[stevieboy]

[ Steve goes to the mall. Of course he does. What else is gonna do? Besides, he needs at least a few good wardrobe essentials, and with a hundred bucks he can at least grab a jacket and a pair of sneakers. So that's his goal as he walks up to the mall, feeling his own weird flashbacks. Most of them are hazy, blurred around the edges thanks to whatever was injected in him by the Russians. And, you know, throwing fireworks at a big fucking monster. There's other less than great memories, too, involving the humiliation that was Scoops Ahoy.

At least he doesn't have to worry about that anymore.

But apparently it's easier for him to face all that than it is for Max, because Steve isn't having memories bad enough to keep him from starting for the door. What stops him is that he can't walk by anyone having a bad time anymore without seeing if they're okay, and as he gets closer his steps slow and then speed up. ]

Max! [ He reaches out to her, hands going to her upper arms but gently, considering the state she was in when he last saw her. But there's also all this curse talk going around and, well, he can't help but be worried that something's happening to her right there on the sidewalk. ] Max, hey, it's me. Steve.

Harley Quinn | DCEU

[revmeup]

Blood Offering

[ Harley wakes with a start. Her brain is a mess of chaos and broken parts, but she knows it, and that dream was definitely not something crafted by her own subconscious. She's more curious than concerned as she looks around the room. It's a far cry better than most places she finds herself, which goes a long way toward speedrunning the five stages of interdimensional kidnapping and landing at acceptance in record time. She flops back in bed and stretches luxuriously, and it's only then that the letter catches her eye.

She reads it a couple times. The corners of her mouth turn down and her brows furrow as she does some counting on her fingers. ]

Damn, got another week on my cycle. Don't s'pose you happen to have any convenient open wounds at the moment?

Roller Rink

[ First of all, Harley is not giving these skates back. She may just skate everywhere she needs to go from now on.

Second, she has to forcibly remind herself that this is not roller derby and she should not slam into other skaters. Not even the ones that are going too slow or getting in her way or just kind of look like it would be funny to see them fall down.

But, third, just because she isn't doing violence on purpose doesn't mean she isn't trailing chaos in her wake. Struggling adults might find themselves getting a slap on the rear as she whizzes past, or tripped up when she "accidentally" sticks a foot in their path. Smoking a cigarette or wearing a cute accessory? She'll just snatch that right up as she goes and spin away with a gleeful cackle.

Harley isn't as outright devious to the younger crowd, and she isn't ... exactly going out of her way to help. That's not her style and she doesn't even like kids, but. If some little brat still getting their skate-legs happens to trip, she might coincidentally decide to take a break and coincidentally position herself so that the newbie has plenty of space to collect themselves and get back on their feet. Not that Harley even noticed. Of course. ]

Mallrats

[ Harley doesn't recognize any of the stores, but it doesn't matter. All malls are the same at their core, and she was a semi-feral 90s kid. This is definitely familiar territory even though the window dressing is new.

She thoroughly explores every store. Pawing through racks, picking things up and putting them down in the wrong place whenever something new catches her eye, staff shooting her looks of disdain (Paradiso) or hope of a sure sale (Oblivion). She doesn't actually buy anything, though. No, Harley is scouting out the best places to shoplift.

But just because she's on a mission doesn't mean she won't insert herself into literally anyone else's business. She tends to pop up and offer unsolicited opinions whenever someone else lingers over an item. ]

That's cute! You should try it!

mallrats!

[m1895]

[ The didactic tone is familiar; the face and the intervention in a stranger's business less so. Vasiliy lowers the windbreaker he was holding up with one hand—optic white, with loud blue and red stripes on the upper arms—and regards the stranger. He's had time to get used to dyed hair, but that doesn't mean he thinks it looks good, especially when it's faded out like hers. ]

Do you think?

Belladonna Dove De Rossi | Original

[dovetouched]

1. A Blood Offering

[Well. For better or for worse, this isn’t an entirely unfamiliar situation for Bella to be in. At least, it’s not her first time being suspended in a void only to be informed she’s been cursed. Everything else is kind of new.

Including the room she wakes up in. It doesn’t look like any of the castles or inns she’s stayed in before. The beds are fine and good but the decor is strange. She has no idea what that funny little box is or what it’s for! The front of it looks like it’s made of some sort of crystal, though. That would certainly sell for a hefty price...

No - No! Belladona Dove De Rossi! There are other pressing matters to attend to! Such as the other person in the room and the contents of the letter asking for blood of all things.

She wrinkles her nose. Then looks down at her hands, still in her gloves, and then to her temporary roommate.]

Well, what are you waiting for? You can’t expect a lady to dirty her hands as such.

[Rather, she has no idea how much this curse differs from her curse or if she is stacked with two curses now, but she’s not willing to risk it. The gloves stay on.]

2. Roller Rink

[Bella has made a terrible mistake.

Easily seduced by the prospect of a prize (even if she doesn’t know what a walkman is) she courageously adorns the “roller skates” and attempts to run a lap around the rink.

Only to eat shit in a mere manner of seconds.

So now, she is still in the rink but is hugging the wall as her legs slip and slide beneath her.] T-this is impossible!! What manner of jape is this!

[Why is she SO BAD when almost everyone else is SO GOOD. It must be a spell! A prank!]

3. Mallrats

[Why does this feel like she’s just been given an allowance by her parents to keep her busy and out of trouble?

Hmph! Well, that won’t work on her!

Except it will. Because she spots an incredibly cute dress in a window and she kind of needs to at least try it on. The style of this world is so different from her own! She’s curious!

Bella approaches you, cheeks red with excitement and nerves.]

E-excuse me, are you the shop keep?

4. Wild Card

[Hit me up with anything if you’re not feeling the prompts. Bella’s info is in her journal but tl;dr she is a noble lady by day and a thief by night who stole from the wrong person once in her home world and ended up cursed. So now she is like, Super Cursed.]

Jolyne Cujoh | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

[getstoned]

A BLOOD OFFERING

[ A strange dream indeed, even though it happened when Jolyne rolled over in her bed her eyes began to slowly open. The fog of waking up didn't last long, because as soon as she was taking in some light there she was shooting up in her bed and dropping out of it when she saw someone else in the next bed over.

This is wrong, this is so wrong.

There's no way she'd be in a cheap Florida hotel room just because, there's no way that was possible in any scenario she could cycle through as she scrambled up and made a b-line for the door. Of course it doesn't open, of course she's somehow locked in here... and missing something that would've been able to help her to break down this obstacle. ]

FUCK!

[ How could that weird dream be real in any way? Why? ]

ROLLER RINK

[ A roller rink party, is there gonna be pizza like in middle school? That would be the least they could do right? Some pizza, a coke and... and what? Ninja Turtles arcade game. Yes.

Of course this situation was still dire, but without her stand what can she do about it other than play along? ]

... So wait, we're getting a prize for simply... doing a lap...?

This is some wacky ass shit, don't you think? Like how is that a real thing? Is Jaws in the rink? Is Jaws gonna pop out and try and chew off my leg? If it's a gator I'll fuckin' lose it... A shark is the lesser of two evils here.

[ She's strapped in those skates, but still finds herself looking out at that rink with great suspicion (who wouldn't?). ]

I mean, the surface seems calm, no sign of the great white anywhere.

MALLRATS

Okay, so I'm not just making shit up, we're definitely in the 80s right?

It's like the mayor was like, Let's do Dawn of the Dead, but make it an 80s shopping mall.. Because in what other scenario are we going to be competing for food and resources? I call dibs on Wetzel's Pretzels if that happens, just saying.

[ She looks down at that gift card, thinking about this for a moment. ]

... So like, is the economy still in the 80s as well? Because if that's the case I can get a lot of shit for just 100$

OOC

[ Hey! This is Kitty, if you want to do anything that isn't in these prompts just hit me with a tag and I'll fall in line. I'm pretty chill and open with anything and everything. If you still want to hit me up with an idea feel free to message me at itachuu ]