cursedcontent | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

What a question.

[ The more she stares at this outfit, the more she's kind of enamoured by it. It's insane and she'd never be able to pull it off – she simply does not have the confidence for a coat like that – but god, if she could, she'd look like such a fabulous piece of shit. ]

It's a movie. It's about this guy who finds out he lives inside a computer, so he breaks out and makes friends with a bunch of people who only wear leather. It's pretty heartwarming.

Uh, no it's not.

[ Steve laughs a bit, more amused than anything else. Like, if anyone's gonna know movies, it's gotta be him, right? ]

I work - [ Worked?? ] - at a video store so I have a pretty good idea about what movies are out there. A guy living in a computer? Please.

((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.

[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!

Edited 2022-08-21 01:45 (UTC)

[ 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.

●●● 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. ✌ ]

（ 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. ）

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

[ He glances over, as if checking to see if the guy's talking to someone else. For a moment, Steve considers just going back to looking at the cassettes (specifically looking for The Works by Queen, so his favourite songs can be on hand), but that's probably rude. ]

Do they? Say that, I mean. [ Also what media exists that isn't physical?? He motions to the Tears For Fears cassette in the guy's hand. ] Great tape. Gotta say I think I like Songs From The Big Chair better, though.

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.

[ Dumbass, meet dumbass.

Steve shakes his head. ]

No — no, I don't think so. [ And the letter remains untouched by all in this room, an obvious solution to a problem they're both exerting too much force at.

There's an exasperated huff as he tries to think back on what he'd been told. ]

There was just some stuff about curses. Oh! [ He remembers something. ] Oh — hey, okay, okay, so to get home, we just need to beat the Curse. No telling how long that's gonna take though, but maybe there's a clue in here.

[ Maybe the Curse is like, some metaphor for the door. He's really firing all synapses here. ]

（ dumbass v dumbass, none braincell left beef.

clues, huh.

sure would be nice if ishida was here to do the math on that one — strategy has never really been his strongest point (and let it not be said he's unaware of that particular flaw). but, dutifully, he starts feeling along the wall, knocking along the wood as if looking for the struts.

when that yields nothing, he moves a nightstand (letter whomst?) and when there's nothing behind it but a shitty yellowed outlet from whence snakes the cord for an ancient lamp, he makes an annoyed noise and then just. picks up one end of the bed.

that letter? still ignored. ）

Hey, you. Look under the bed.

（ yes. genius. surely the answer lies there. ）

Edited 2022-08-21 03:46 (UTC)

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.]

[ Sounds like a pretty solid plan to him, t b h.

Steve looks from the guy who introduced himself as 'Kurosaki' to the bed being lifted up by its skirts, and shrugs, accepting this as his fate. ]

Yeah. Yeah, okay.

[ So he does just that, gets to his hands and knees and everything and takes a peek around the underside of the bed where the carpet is its freshest, boldest colour from years of being in shadow. ]

Well, the good news is that the carpet is a dark salmon-red. The bad news ... nothing like a key or anything.

[ He gets back up, any and all letter-type objects being woefully neglected. ]

Maybe we've gotta call Room Service?

That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

（ it's okay, steve, he would have said that about any idea he didn't come up with himself right now, and probably at least half of whatever he did manage himself. but he is now studying the phone.

he drops the bed (not on steve, at least) and dusts his hands off like he just touched something gross (look, he knows what goes on in hotels, all right? how often do these things get properly cleaned?

but the hamster wheel is now properly turning. the little hamster is doing its best with its stubby little legs, okay. running, running... oops, it did a faceplant, but never fear, this hamster is as stubborn as he is and soon it's back in its little wheel.

finally, ichigo flings an arm out dramatically and points at the phone directly. ）

Let's try it.

（ by which he means steve. ）

[Whoever was assigning rooms needs a sound punch in the nose. And then the gonads.

After the introductory kerfuffle (most of her shrieking had been averted as he was so comically out of place), Fukawa opted to stay wedged in a corner, glowering, as the man pittered and pattered around like a wind-up toy gone rogue. He was inescapably foppish, horrifically old, and dressed like he was waiting on a stage cue that would never come. In contrast, she was encroaching on twenty, surly and suspicious, and dressed in a school girl uniform one stitch away from falling apart. The tear in her skirt went nearly all the way up the leg, her sleeves were split and snagged, the tie missing a chunk, and the whole thing smelled of smoke, dirt, and old sweat.

If this Mayor character was fishing for a screwball comedy situation, they had another thing coming.]

Oh, f-forget about the damn towels. What's the matter, do you need to take a shower? [Of all the stupid things to whine about. They've basically been kidnapped and he's complaining about toiletries. Honestly.

Fukawa scowls and peels away from her corner at last, powerless against her own curiosity. The stick didn't work, no surprise there, but there had to be an alternative. It was the most contrived trap she'd ever heard of. Was there some kind of platelet counter wired into the door? Ridiculous.

When he wiggles his sleeve back and begs for a blade she almost freezes cold. Right — okay yes, finding another way is now number one priority. Maybe she could pass it off as something mundane, but anyone would have questions about why a young girl keeps several pairs of scissors in a holster under her skirt. Or why they're sharpened on both sides.

Best to avoid that.]

Uh — [Quick quick quick — her eyes dart around. Anything, anything will do.] Listen! Let's not rush into this. What makes you so sure it h-has to be blood anyway? Maybe...it just has to be a thick liquid. Like soap! Or some kind cleaner? Should we check the bathroom? It's not like they have cameras or anything in here. How would they know what we're p-putting on it?

[It's a crapshoot, but it's the best she's got.]

Edited (Remembered it's Rhys Darby and I can't tell if he's playing Stede as British just from YouTube. I'm canonblind, pls forgive me...) 2022-08-21 06:02 (UTC)

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!

No room service until the blood offering has been made. The phone will be completely dead.

Once they get out, it's business as usual and there will be staff there, but they all seem to laugh off any talk of other worlds or curses. Why not try the complimentary breakfast instead of worrying about all that?

heheheh perfect, thank you!

Wh —

[ He lets out an exasperated sigh. This guy is starting to remind him of a certain bossy little shithead (endearingly), only they look to be around the same age, and yeah, okay, he doesn't mind doing the thing, taking initiative, whatever.

So Steve picks up the receiver and hits the button for the front desk, and then puts it to his ear expecting ... well, literally anything. ]

Huh.

[ He hits another button. And then another, like he expects that to do the trick. He checks the length of the phone's line to make sure the whole damned thing is connected at all, which, you know, might seem obvious but it's worth a check anyway, right, but nothing comes out from the other side.

It's silence. ]

Shit. Phone's dead.

Read the letter, prettyboy.

[ Billy folds the letter up and flings it in Steve's general direction. Lock picking seems to be the furthest thing from his mind as he gets up and walks to the door, giving it a fierce tug. And, just for good measure, he rams into it with his shoulder.

Doesn't even budge. He shrugs. ]

There you have it. Let's rough Munson up and go. [ Not that he and Steve are on good terms, but neither of them are on good terms with Eddie (as far as he knows, anyway) and the two jocks kicking the local freak around just seems to be the natural order of things here. ]

[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.]

[She hadn't been keen on keeping company here. Far from it. She doesn't trust this lanky motor mouth, with his too easy conversation and poofy hair, but Fukawa is spooked. Well and truly.

If the dream hadn't been enough warning, the blood sucking door would have been a hair-raising tip off. She's in a foreign land with foreign forces, surrounded by strangers and possibly? Maybe, sort of, even if every fibre of her being is screaming "Impossible! Impossible!", even if the implications stretch farther than she can imagine? She might have gone back in time.

She's only half-listening to the boy's ramblings, eyes darting here and there and spotting relic upon relic. He seemed mild-mannered company so she thought she'd endure it for the time being, but he says nothing useful at all. He's treating this like some lazy Saturday stroll. The ice cream parlour comment has her rolling her eyes.]

Wh-why? Did some kid get sick and puke all over you?

[Perhaps ungracious, but there were worse places to work than a sweet shop. He needs a reality check if a part-time job for numbskulls can send him running.

Then he starts in on the money. Fukawa's scowl falters. She looks down at the gift card, turning it back to front.]

What? B-but...Well, how would I know that?! I can't convert money in my head! [Even if they sat on par, the American Dollar ran on a different metric than the Yen. Fukawa grimaces and grips the card tight. It's the only currency she's got, it can't be wasted under any circumstance.] And how can you be sure? It's c-clearly some old timey set up they have here. Maybe a hundred dollars is worth more now than it would b-be normally.

（ just his (their??? you poor bastard) luck. ichigo sighs, which halfway turns into a growl of frustration, and then he just drops down on the bed he'd so lately hefted upwards. now that he hasn't been fighting for more than a few minutes, the adrenaline is starting to bleed out of his system, and even though his wounds are healed... exhaustion hits him full force.

he puts his head in his hands for a few seconds, trying to think. smoke does not, in fact, escape from his ears, but it's a near thing. fingers curl and tighten in a violent shock of orange hair, and then he drops his hands away with an annoyed noise of disgust. ）

Okay. We just need to put our heads together. We're in a room, we both had this weird freakin' dream, we can't just bust out with force. There's got to be something here, some sort of key.

（ or a time limit. he's reminded almost uncomfortably of that girl's dollhouse fullbring — but if it's anything like that, they might have to fight. this guy seems like a normal human — even without reiatsu, ichigo just doesn't think of himself as being one of them anymore. he's got too many things warring for genetic supremacy in his blood, whether it's quincy or hollow or shinigami or whatever the hell else. but he makes the decision right then and there — even if that is the key, he's not going to touch the guy. ）

Ah, for fuck's sake —

（ he gets up and just straight-up kicks the nightstand over, which makes the letter flutter to the floor. he looks at it for a moment, and then picks it up. he makes a face at it, and then holds it out. ）

Do you read English? I'm shit at it.

[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.]

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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

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

roller rink;

steve harrington | stranger things

blood offering;

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mallrats;

Sam Winchester | Supernatural |

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wanda maximoff | mcu

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Blood Offering

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Mallrats

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Emma Frost | Marvel Comics