Test Drive Meme #30

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open March 25th, and apps are open April 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: CHOMP CHOMP
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Or sticking out of that pipe, even. Yes, that's right, the Door seems to have brought in an infestation of piranha plants, which may be familiar to you, since they've been in nearly every Mario game.

Piranha plants are large orb-shaped plants with big ol' teeth, all the better for biting you with. They can't walk around, but their stalks can stretch pretty far, so they'll be perfectly happy to stretch out and bite the heck out of you if you get too close - and some of them are good at hiding. You might not see them until it's too late. Luckily, while the biting is pretty bad, it's just about all they can do. You'll be fine, as long as you keep your distance.]

SCENARIO TWO: THEY'RE COMING TO GET YOU
[You've got a scratchy throat, a little cough, a general feeling of awfulness. It sucks being sick, doesn't it? Maybe you can find someone to get you some juice, or hold your hand, or just be sympathetic to how crappy you feel. After all, no one likes being sick. But how can you know that person is actually trying to help you? They have an untrustworthy look in their eye, and you're pretty sure you just heard them mutter something about leaving your body in a ditch.

Or maybe you're the one trying to take care of a sick friend. You have only the best intentions, but they don't seem interested in cooperating at all. In fact, it seems like they think you're trying to hurt them! What the hell? And here you were trying to be a good person for once. Oh shit - did you just sneeze? This isn't going to end well.

This is a mini version of our Flu Season event this month.]

H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: FONDLY YOURS
[When you stepped out of the house this morning, you found a small bouquet of flowers on the doorstep, just waiting for you. They're just the sort you like - your favorite kind, in fact - so they must be meant for you. But who could they be from?

Of course, there must be someone you wish they were from. A lover, a long-term flirtation, your best friend thinking of you. Or maybe you're hoping for something else: an apology from someone who hurt you, or an olive branch from and enemy. Whoever you're hoping they're from, well - the only way to know is ask, right?

Unless you'd rather leave a secret bouquet for them, instead.]

Comments

d.va | overwatch

[dnied]

one for my highlight reel! - one

[ Anyone in the coliseum today is in for quite a show. A MEKA suit is zipping around the field, firing off round upon round of bullets and even small missiles, taking out every piranha plant in sight. Some of the monsters withdraw into their tubes, but the fighter seems experienced enough to know to wait for them to pop out before shooting... or to bait them by marching close by and then raining destruction down on them when they appear. ]

Score! [ Comes the occasional cheer from inside the mech. It'd be difficult, with the way it's moving so quickly, but you might be able to catch a glimpse of the pilot within the cockpit as she works.

The bright pink of the mech might be a little jarring, but, hey: at least she's containing the monster problem! ]



i'm too young to die! - two

[ Hana has dressed down for the occasion of picking through the abandoned shops, but the comfy and casual wear does not seem to have improved her mood. The little fighter puffs out her cheeks in an exasperated sigh before sneezing - one, two, three, four times - and then uttering a noise of clear unhappiness. ]

There's just nothing left! [ She complains to whoever might be within earshot. ] Is it too much to ask to have - ugh, anything to help a sick girl out?

[ And she is sick, clearly. With several symptoms of a cold, or worse, she's far from her usual, perky self. More than that, she seems especially negative, squinting to peer at the person in question with her arms crossed defensively. ]

What'd you find, huh? Did you take all the good stuff?

[ Someone should probably direct her to the clinic before she snatches various goods out of others' hands... or homes, depending on how aggressive the paranoia grows. ]



thanks for the love! - three

Ooh, what's this?

[ Hana looks down with an expression of surprise and delight when she finds the bouquet at her doorstep. The thrilled pilot immediately brings the flowers inside to make them a home in a vase and water, humming to herself along the way... until she stops, hit with inspiration. It isn't long after that she can be found in the streets of the city, imposing a single flower on every person that she passes. ]

Here you go! Better to share the love, right? [ She winks and pops her gum, wandering until she's out of flowers. Then, she'll settle on a bench with her headphones on, bobbing her head to the music and scrolling through the communicator she'd found upon arrival.

It's good karma to pass on little bits of kindness like that, right? And it's not like she has the time to take care of all those flowers... ]

one and i'm sorry

[telethoughts]

( Things that don't happen to Carl every day: nearly being speared by a bunch of missiles aiming at a plant just behind where he pops in.

So, understandably, Carl pops out, disappearing from the spot in the same sudden way he appeared, disappearing in the span of a blink. )

... Christ, it's stuffy in here.

( Because, obviously, as we all know, the best and most foolproof way of avoiding missiles is to teleport yourself into the pilot's cockpit. )

two!

[lightsoff]

[ As for Sombra, she isn't above translocating into somebody's home through their window, stealing cold medicine, and sneaking back out. She isn't completely immune to this particular strain even with her bio-cybernetic augmentations, but she damn well is going to do something about it, whatever it takes.

So, Hana isn't completely off base when she accuses Sombra, who was just minding her own business by the way, of hoarding exactly what she needed. She looks briefly in her cloth bag of medicinal loot, then back at Hana. ]

Yeah, probably. [ Her otherwise smooth voice is husked and gravelly; it's clear she has a terrible cough. ] Good luck finding any more— [ she coughs, but still manages a taunting tone ] —this place is empty.

Bucky Barnes | Marvel 616

[honorthememory]

Scenario One

[To say that stationary plants with teeth doesn't really phase Bucky much is more or less the understatement of the year. But considering the last thing he remembers he hadn't been too hopeful about making it out alive, this is almost like a goddamn walk in the park. Carnivorous plants. That's not even the worst thing you run into on a daytrip to the Savage Lands.

He's still in uniform, which yeah, looks a little bit worse for wear at the moment, but at least he still has the shield. That's somethin' anyway. And it definitely comes in handy when one of the plants tries to take a bite out of him. Bucky curses, using the shield to hit the plant in its orb-shaped head and detach it from his shoulder. You'd think they were too big and brightly colored to be particularly steathy, but either they're better than he gave them credit for, or he's just tired.]

Anyone need any help?

[He calls, trying tpo see if there's anyone else around. Given that he hasn't seen any threats that are independently mobile, he's more concerned about other people in need of assistance.]


Scenario Three

[He's dressed down now, having found himself clothes and a place to say. But he stops in surprise, and can't help smiling a little at the flowers, lifting them up so he can breathe in the scent of red roses. They always remind him of Natasha, but considering the current circumstances he can't imagine who would have left them for him.

So for the moment he just kind of stands there a bit awkwardly with the flowers, looking around to see if there's anyone around that seems to be leaving flowers for people. It's certainly a nice gesture, at any rate, he guesses. Certainly beats the first round of fauna.]

So does everyone get one, or am I just lucky?


Wildcard

[Bucky's pretty easy, feel free to find him working out, or whatever seems fun; I'll roll with it.]

Three!

[redrooms]

[Natasha is still trying to settle in, herself, and of course she's having a bit of trouble trusting anything just yet. It's like a curse. She follows Bucky into the apartment, and her eyebrows go up when she sees the bouquet. Well, they certainly are pretty.]

Maybe you have fans you don't know about, James.

One. With a healthy dose of mistaken identity. :/

[perpetualgenius]

[It's the familiar sound of a vibranium dome-shaped object that attracts his attention first, and through the remnants of plant matter he makes his way toward the source of the sound. Tony manages to convince himself that his brain is playing tricks on him, awful ones if he thinks that he might want Steve of all people to turn up around here. That is until he spots the suit.

Stopping in his tracks, Tony lets out a huff of breath, holstering a handgun; his only weapon thus far and taking a few steps closer.]

Anywhere else, you'd be the last person I'd want to see Rogers.

carl smith / original.

[telethoughts]

one | we are kings from the underground
... Reet.

( That's all the warning given to the plant baring down on a dark haired, well-dressed man before he flickers away and out of the grasp of its jaws, pulling a dagger out from his belt, the metal glinting in the harsh sunlight, almost too brightly.

His fingers tap the side of the hilt once before he strikes, slicing through the stem of the... well, he wouldn't call it a beast. A possessed plant? Can Creatures possess plants? That's news to him. )

Y'need to learn 'boot the food chain, mate.

( There's a pop on that t, something which makes the word sound more like an insult than a friendly address. )

three | we are louder than your bullshit
( Witness, one (1) Carl Smith (is that last name too plain, too English for a man with his complexion and dark eyes? Maybe that's the point) walking through Hadriel, instead of popping from rooftop to rooftop, without a care in the world. If it weren't for the bouquet of deep red roses in his hands, this would be utterly unremarkable.

Of course, a bouquet of deep, red roses won't simply stay in his hands, otherwise that would be dull as dishwater. The first flower gets wound into his suit's lapel, threaded through the buttonhole and standing stark against the grey (this suit is nowhere near as nice as the ones he has back home, but beggars and choosing and all the rest of it).

The second he pulls close to his nose, inhaling deeply, offering a glistening white, incredibly charming (if he does say so himself) smile to passers by. )

Thought these were lush till I got a look at you.

( Carl, no. )

[magnes]

[ Beth's reaction to the rose and pickup line is almost comical, given she takes a full step backwards, practically recoiling at the...well, just the whole thing really. She's still not used to the people here being able to see her, and now someone is...what, trying to flirt? Like, this is how kids these days flirt, right? Or maybe it's old-timey flirting.

Either way, she wants no part in it. ]

No.

[ And she almost just leaves it at that, but just in case he doesn't get it she adds: ]

Keep it to yourself.

diamond | houseki no kuni

[diaphane]

scenario one

[ If you're in the colosseum today, you might see-- in addition to the plants trying to eat people-- someone fighting the plants off. They're fast, apparently pretty used to handling a sword, and uh...very...sparkly?

(Seriously, their hair is basically reflecting sunlight in a very colorful fashion.)

As they cut through one of the plants, another pops up and...latches on to this newcomer's arm.

Oh dear. ]

{ ooc: OF NOTE is that this character is literally made of diamond and also has never seen a living human being and will be absolutely fascinated if your character is human/not a rock !! }

to be fair he's pretty fascinated right back!

[soreyinflyin]

[ Their appearance is pretty cool, but asking about that can wait. Sorey's not one to let anyone struggle alone.

He's definitely not as graceful fighter as Diamond. His style is a lot of running and bashing in contrast to Diamond's dance-like footwork and clean cuts, but plants are plants - even if they eat people - and a couple of solid strikes at the connecting point of the stalk and toothed "head" of the plant stops the biting.

Still embedded in their arm though. ]

That was some pretty impressive work! You had already gotten most of them by the time I had gotten here. I've never seen a sword style like that!

[ He holds out his hand to them to shake, forgetting their is still a dead plant attached to it. ]

Natasha Romanoff | MCU

[natalia_vdova]

i. chomp chomp

[Honestly, killer plants are almost a little bit of a welcome reprieve for Natasha. No drama, no questions, just straight-forward get rid of the monsters. And that, she can do. No questions about what she's been doing with her life for the past ten years, what she does now- doesn't even have to focus on the fact that she she was just dragged to some world that she doesn't know the rules of. The main rules right now are to survive and make it to safety. And if she finds anyone else that becomes protect. Simple. And she could use a little bit of simple.]

Hey, you okay?

[Another figure out here gets her immediate attention. Gun still in her right hand, but she holds her hands in a way that's meant to be non-threatening, the gun doesn't get aimed at them, even if she's still careful. She's in street clothes- blending in clothes- but she has her Widow's bite under her sleeves, and her Glock 26 had been in a shoulder holster under her jacket. The nearest creature sports two bullet holes, courtesy of her sidearm. The gun's deceptively small, but with a lot of stopping power. Makes the recoil harsh, but Nat's always been good with firearms.]


ii. they're coming to get you

[Natasha is not exactly the best at playing nurse or babysitter, but she's making the attempt. Honestly, the way that the person seems to get actively skittish and suspicious the longer this sickness has its hold of them just makes her less likely to leave. Something's not right here.

So if you're sick, she'll be continuing to patiently offer blankets and water and keeping track of the paranoia as it worsens. Though, that comment, about leaving your body in a ditch? Yeah, that might not be the paranoia and more the effect of an unsettled and increasingly irritated spy. If you're another caretaker, there might be some realtalk about what's going around.]

Whatever this is, I don't think it's natural.


iii. wildcard, take one

[One of the first things Natasha does, after finding food and shelter, is finding someplace for her morning workouts. She's up at dawn, with a patch of something close to security, though the fact that her Widow's Bites stay on says she doesn't think too much of that in truth.

Her routine varies. Gymnastics, yoga, or combat circuits. Come offer her someone to practice with, or if you're lucky, you might even catch her dancing by herself.]


iv. wildcard baby

[Open to whatever. If you have an idea, I'll roll with it, or feel free to PM me to plot!]

i. o hai there

[perpetualgenius]

[This was the first time he'd experienced a fresh wave of newcomers, and his work in the lab had been barely productive considering the monumental barriers-to-work that he'd encountered. Fine, so he'd managed to secure himself a place of his own and put together something like a workshop, but coming down with the flu had practically knocked him out despite his efforts to keep working.

The result was this. Despite his efforts to put something with more power together all he had was a handgun. He'd anticipated that he wouldn't even need it, but with the newcomers came the promise of new materials and he'd hoped that maybe he could forage some metal to get started on the real project.

Natasha's voice reaches his ears, and perhaps it's the fact that there is quite literally no one else who recognises him here that he doesn't recognise her right away. At least not until he turns and dusts himself off, pressing the gun in his hand against his knee as he gets up to his feet again.]

Romanoff?

Leo Valdez ( Riordanverse )

[leovaldez]

( Scenario One )

[ When Leo comes to, he has no idea where in Hades he is. He's actually not convinced that he's not in the Underworld or somewhere just as awful. He doesn't see any of his friends nearby and he's muttering to himself about how clearly they must have forgotten him.

There's no one around to be braggadocious for just then.

But as he starts moving, all the sudden there's a ...is that a plant moving to snap at him, managing to catch his shirt before he quickly ducks away. ]

What the hell!

[ Maybe this really is the Underworld and Persephone and Hades had some ungodly plant death child. He'd prefer Nico just now, thank you very much.

But at least now he's more aware of his surroundings even if he's not sure it is but he starts searching for a way out, trying to pick his way through these annoying buggers without getting bit. ]

( Wildcard )

[ I'll match tenses and styles! Feel free to hit me with your best shot or hit me up via PM or on plurk at poetanarchy if you want to plot something or want a specific starter. ]

Re: Leo Valdez ( Riordanverse )

[sonofacesius]

[Sorry Leo, Will's not Nico, but he is around and looking for injured, carrying the same medical bag he has probably seen him carry around Camp, along with a bow and quiver. And you don't look injured. Good, one less to worry about. ]

Hey Leo. Long time not see. Glad you're not dead. Those plants don't look friendly, let's get out of here before they take a bite out of you.

[He only had so many supplies Leo. The null battle did a number on them and with Hope and the deals out of commission for a while, he hadn't been able to replenish his supplies. Will motioned to the other demigod, arrow knocked, ready to shoot one of the plants, if that would even make a difference? Leo would probably have more luck with fire.]

Jon Snow ✥ Game of Thrones/ASOIAF ✥ CW: THIS CANON

[northerndragon]

{I: CHOMP CHOMP}

This isn't the kind of threat Jon is used to.

He's been hunting since he was a boy, and he's fought all sorts of men: dozens of foes are dead at his hand, and countless animals, ones harmless as hares or dangerous as wolves. He's fought dead men, too, and White Walkers, things people used to call impossible.

But plants? It's true enough that there are some you shouldn't eat, some that will make you itch, some that are good medicine. Until now, he's never seen one that will crane its neck to bite you -- never even thought of a plant's stem as its neck before. There are scrapes on the arm of his padded arming jacket where one tried to gain purchase with its teeth. The slight ridiculousness of the plant itself doesn't negate the threat it poses.

He waits, staring at the metal cylinder, watching for the flower to reveal itself again, and when it does, it's over in a second: he separates the bud from the stem with a clean slice from Longclaw.

Some distance away, he sees someone else about to be bitten... someone who isn't as well armed or armored as he is. He dashes over and slices the head of the flower off before it can sink its fangs in, or its thorns... it really does look remarkably and unsettlingly like a mouth, and not a kind one.

He turns to whoever he's just rescued from a nasty bite with a concerned, inquisitive expression.

"Are you all right? These things are everywhere. Are they normal in this place?"

{II: THEY'RE COMING TO GET YOU}

Months north of the Wall with the Free Folk with no illness, and only the injuries that came as a result of his betrayal -- a betrayal of those he'd been told were his enemies for his entire life, now enemies no longer. No sickness in all his years at Castle Black but the sickness that sometimes comes with wounds. He knows he was seriously ill once as a child, with a pox, but he came through it well enough then, and it was years ago. He's strong now.

He's been in this cave city only a matter of days, and he's coughing and sneezing. His head is on fire; his body is all ice and deep ache, and his throat feels like he's swallowed nettles. He's been a good enough patient in that he's not peevish or unkind... he's been visibly grateful for the care, until now... but "patient" isn't the word that describes him: the trouble is keeping him in bed when he'd rather be moving, would rather be working to some useful end.

When he isn't asleep, he's bored. If offered a book, he might browse it, but he'll set it aside after a few minutes. "Tell me how you came to be here," he says. If you're not from his world, he may add, "Tell me what the place you came from was like." Or he sniffs, frowns, and asks, "Sicknesses like this... do they happen often here?" The environment, in his opinion, can't be healthy. It's like never leaving the worm tunnels at the Wall.

He keeps the blankets tucked up high on his bare chest, but sometimes, when he sleeps, they slide down, exposing cruel, half-healed scars. There's more than one; the worst is inches long, a deep curve over his heart.

Today, though, he's starting to wonder: why are you trying to keep him in bed? Or, if it comes to that: why has he woken to find you staring at his scars? The look he turns on you is suspicious and narrow-eyed, even as he sniffles.

{Notes}

1. Canon point for TDM purposes is somewhere around the end of 7x02, when Jon is departing from Winterfell en route to Dragonstone! This is pretty much for the convenience of the existing cast; I could be talked into later canon points.
2. If you're not canon-familiar, Longclaw is an unusually sharp and lightweight hand-and-a-half sword with a pommel in the shape of a white wolf's head, and is a rare and valuable antique. Like half of everything else in this canon, It's Symbolic.
3. About those scars in the second prompt (please keep in mind before looking that these are images of fatal knife wounds): fresh, healed (6-12 months later).
4. Any format is fine. I'll match yours.
5. HMU at detectivefiction for anything more specific, discussion, etc.

{I: CHOMP CHOMP} Her hero?

[stonebird]

Jon meant everything to her. He was her brother - fully, no bastard about it - and she smiled tremulously when he came to her aid. Her bright hair was hidden by the hood of her cloak, so he could be forgiven for not recognizing her at first. It might also be shocking that Sansa Stark - the woman who was the perfect lady as a child - was wielding a sword.

And an Elven sword at that!

"I'm not sure you can say anything is normal in Hadriel." her voice shook and she embraced him tightly, "Jon, I have so much to tell you!"

But she realized that they might want to get to a safe place first.

"Follow me. I have a house mostly to myself. We can talk there."

Ruffnut Thorston | How to Train Your Dragon

[fullloki]

One:

[ Ruffnut may not know what the heck is happening right now, or where her stupid brother's run off to, but she does know one thing: Those weird plants are the greatest thing she's ever seen. Seriously, look at them! It's destruction in a pot, and it's great. She turns to grin at her brother, only to find he's just. Not. It's a weird, off-kilter kind of feeling.

It's not gonna stop her from trying to take one of these bad boys along with her, though. To anyone trying to attack or approach the piranha plant she's mentally claimed as her own? Watch out, because there's now a viking barreling in your direction. ]

Hey, watch it! That one's mine!

Two:

[ So much for that Thorston constitution, Ruffnut feels like actual death. It's the worst, and as far as she can tell there's no getting rid of it. She's already tried to punch the sickness out of herself and...well, maybe it would be more effective if Tuffnut hit her with Macey or she had Barf and Belch there to light her on fire temporarily, burn that sick right out. But alas.

Sure, someone around here can probably give some sound advice, but she's pretty sure this whole place is out to get her. Why? She doesn't know, go figure that out for yourself. Maybe they want to steal her dragon secrets or the cool plant that's always trying to eat her. Or maybe they're just buttheads. Either way, she doesn't trust a'one of ya.


Ruff has taken to just laying in the middle of the street. Inside was too warm. Outside is too cold. Or maybe it was the other way around? It's hard to tell. Point is, there's no winning, and after leaving her house and laying down to cool off(warm up?), Ruff's made the executive decision to never stand up again.

So yeah. Here she is. Sick and in your way. ]

One more step and I'll clobber you. [ Ughhh. No, wait, that requires getting up and not immediately dying. ] Or...sneeze in your general direction. Either way, you'll be sorry.

Three:

[ Oh yeah, poison oak. Well, poison oak hidden in an otherwise pretty bouquet of flowers. Time to have some good ol' 'cause trouble for literally everyone else' fun.

Taking to the street, her hands wrapped in leather so she doesn't end up itchy, she starts trying to hand them out to people she runs into. ]

Hey, these dumb flowers aren't my style. Want one?

omg YES, three

[crippled]

[Having spent the majority of his life crawling through the grass on his belly due to being unable to use his legs, Ivar long ago had to learn the look of troublesome plants or else end up with a terribly itchy face all of the time.

Which is why he only takes half a second of squinting suspiciously at the flowers to see the poison oak mixed in. He scoffs immediately, and looks the rest of the way up to her face to make—who knows, some rebuke? Only, he's stopped short. She is, aside from his brother, the first person here he's seen dressed normally.

Well, the helm with about 15 horns in it is a bit much, but far be it for Ivar to criticize someone's fashion choices.]

How many idiots have fallen for that?

[Right now he's dressed in his own leather armor, both legs encased in their weird metal braces, clearly leaning most of his weight on a crutch. Just wandering the streets, as he does.]

Wesley Crusher | Star Trek: The Next Generation

[outtherejustwaiting]

ONE:
[There must have been a transporter malfunction. This doesn't look like a Bajoran colony at all.

Wesley slowly gets up on his feet, groaning softly as little aches and pains make themselves known all over his body. It feels like he's been flung sideways and landed hard on the ground. There's hot sand all over his uniform, on his face, in his hair. Looking around, it appears he's in some sort arena. Two suns? He squints up at them, shielding his eyes. This definitely isn't the Bajoran colony he was supposed to visit. And he's not familiar with any binary solar systems in the vicinity.

Hopefully the ship is within range. Hopefully they're looking for him. Wesley taps the combadge on his chest, clearing his throat, still trying to get his bearings.] Ensign Crusher to Enterprise.

[No response. He frowns at the badge. Taps it again. It doesn't make a sound, not a single chirp. It doesn't seem to be functioning.] E-Ensign Crusher to Enterprise, come in. Enterprise? Captain? Mr. O'Brien, a-are you there?

[Nothing. Wesley can feel his stomach turning. It's okay. Don't panic. They'll get in touch with you. Maybe you need to get to a higher elevation, boost the signal of the combadge somehow, yes, that's it, boost the signal, brilliant, find something on this planet that could juice the subspace transceiver assembly, or maybe just the power supply, just some tinkering, just some tinkering and you'll be fine--

A sound from behind snaps him out of it. It sounded like a rustle, and kind of like... snarling? But all he can see is a strange, bulbous plant. Is it moving? Wesley is immediately fascinated, immediately curious. If he's to stay here until the ship picks him up, he might as well explore a little, right?]

Whoa... What're you? [He starts reaching for the plant.]

TWO:
[Wesley might not be a little kid anymore, but he's still a growing young man, his immune system still changing and adjusting. Add to that the fact that his mom is a doctor, and it goes without saying that he gets sick a lot. Not like this though - the symptoms remind him of a disease his mom told him about years ago called the "common cold". A couple hundred different viruses that humans struggled with for hundreds of thousands of years, all with roughly the same symptoms he's displaying right now. Coughing, runny nose, sore throat, body fatigue.

It sucks. Even with how often he gets sick, it's usually over in a day or two - just pop around to sickbay and get a hypospray injection, a quick treatment, immediate relief. A mom to brush his hair back and hold his hand. He doesn't have that on this strange planet. How could he? They're all strangers... all with conflicting stories about their home worlds and tall tales about gods... some of them are obviously dangerous.

They're trying to confuse him. So they can hurt him. So they can get to his tech, get at the crew. He's not going to let them.]

Three:
What the heck..? [Flowers? Wesley frowns at the bouquet of camellias and hellebores resting on the doorstep. Is this a prank? Is it meant for someone in the house..? It can't be meant for him...

That'd be silly.

But... they're his favorites. Not that he dares to admit that out loud, but he really likes camellias. They smell like his great grandma. Like home. His mom would keep a bouquet around their quarters whenever they could find one. He picks up the bouquet. It's beautiful... Is there a note? He turns to you then, the closest person around, and tries to keep a straight face.] Did you see who left these here?

iii;

[restinglichface]

[Lup's never seen this kid before in her life, but her sharp eyes dart to the flowers in his hand almost immediately, because random kids are pretty common around Hadriel but flowers are not. Not like this, at least. The camellias are beautiful, vividly bright and every petal perfectly intact, a splash of gorgeous color in the monochromatic desert.

But where did they come from? There's certainly none of these growing out here. And why the heck did they go to this kid and not her? R u d e.]

Sorry, hun, didn't see a thing. Must have a secret admirer.

cerithiidae of faerfel • original (dungeons & dragons)

[bossy]

1. FLU SEASON

"Right, come on then," Cerith says to her brand new sick friend, along with an aggravated huff that blows her thick blue-black hair out of her eyes. This isn't the first time she's had to look after someone who's sick — her brother was always a right mope about it, once he stopped toughing it out and stayed in bed. Though that's currently the bit she's trying to get to.

"Look, I know we don't know each other," she says, trying to both sound calm and reasonable and also physically strain her tiny green frame to move another person. "But you've got to get some rest. I mean, you collapsed! Your're lucky I still had a spellslot. And I can't just keep hobbling about with you like this forever."


2. PLANT SEASON.

Are you watching Cerith fight? She's not particularly good at it, though she holds the rapier in her hands like she does actually know how to stick someone with the pointy end. Still, it's not the rapier she's using: standing well out of the way of the flower's reach, she says: "Can I just point out, that you're ludicrously top-heavy, not to mention sort of obvious — I mean, surely, as a monster, you can do better than being just a big mouth with teeth. What are you even going to do if you get me? Swallow me? I won't fit inside that skinny stem of yours, that's for sure."

A swirl of blue-green magic seems to gather around her as she speaks, wrapping around her throat, puffing out her lungs like condensation on a cold day, the aqua highlights in her hair and sickly green of her skin all the more vivid. When she scoffs as punctuation, the shimmer of colour splashes over to the flower and it reels itself back in immediately, injured.

And that's how they do it in bard school.

2 + yes bring me all your dnd ocs good

[abyssalarcana]

What is this?

Caedra passes quietly among today's batch of newcomers, scoping them out. This one, well, they're not human which is already refreshing. But she's not quite sure what this newcomer is, either. An elf of some sort? A member of a merfolk race with legs? Or maybe some sort of frog... person. Oh! Or a planetouched goblin.

Definitely a planetouched goblin. She wonders how their blood tastes.

It's a clever spell, one Caedra isn't particularly familiar with. She nods in appreciation though, then gives a startled squeak as, in her circling and eyeing the spellcasting, she had missed one of the strange plants until it abruptly lunges for her much farther than she would have predicted, and grazes the air just short of her, teeth gnashing inches from her shoulder.

Immediately she whips her own rapier up through the thing's lower jaw, impaling straight through what seems to serve as its head, then jerks her arm back and pulls clean through what ought to be petals but instead seems to be flesh. The plant recoils, sending sap flying in an arc, but a black necrosis spreads rapidly from the wound and the thing seems to fester from within as it falls limply to the ground.

Caedra quickly turns her head toward the other caster, but smiles. "Quicker than they look, aren't they?"

Agent Texas ⋆ Red vs. Blue ⋆ OTA

[a_shadow]

⋆ They're coming to get you

Tex had hardly arrived here, finding herself in a human body, before she came down with symptoms of an illness. It just figured! And the thing about Tex is she doesn't like people knowing there's anything wrong with her, or that she may have something influencing her that would make her weak. So she goes about business as usual, pushing through the symptoms until she simply can't anymore.

It really didn't help that that moment came at such a visible time.

She had been fighting the sneezing, the coughing, the runny nose, in her own way, but the muscle weakness was something Tex couldn't ignore. She had been trying to act like everything was normal, but her walking slowed until she came to a halt, and she realized she'd been weaving a bit. She couldn't find a seat nearby, so she simply lowered herself to the ground. She just needed to rest a few moments, and then she'd find her way back to her residence.

⋆ Fondly yours

The sight of the bouquet on her doorstep when she went to leave was a surprise. She'd only been here a short time and she didn't know who would have taken notice of her in a way where they would have thought to leave her a gift like this. She felt right away that whoever had left it must be watching to see her reaction, so after she stepped fully out on the landing and picked it up, she looked around, back and forth down the street.

"Hey!" she called out. "Who do you think you are?"

fondly-ish

[uptightness]

Carolina had started going without her suit, although it was more out of necessity than by choice. It was a second skin to her, something that she did feel comfortable in. Of course, her little brief retirement had gotten her more used to being without it but overall, her padawan training at being lazy had only gone so far.

As it were, it wasn't Carolina who had left it, yet the call did have a frown forming over her features as she glanced back in the direction of the person calling out, not understanding what her problem was. Yet even as she started to respond, her brain was clicking pieces in to place. "Who do I think I am?"

There was a certain roughness to her voice, a less than impressed expression on her face, yet she paused again, stilling.

Jack Foley | Billions

[ajackandanace]

Scenario 3

Well what have we here?

[Flowers are not generally the types of offerings that get laid on Jack's doorstep in life. Information, services, fine wine, expensive clothing...those things he's grown accustomed to. Flowers? More often than not they are directed to Gillian, the wife. All things to do with the foliage of the house is her purview.

Though, as he bends to gather up the bouquet of foxgloves he finds himself charmed by their little lilac bell blossoms, gently brushing a knuckle against one or two admiringly.]

If someone is trying to win my favor they've certainly got a bizarre way of going about it.

sorey | toz

[soreyinflyin]

01 – FEED ME SEYMOUR?

[ Sorey's seen plenty of attack plants where he's from, what really gets his heart racing (in excitement and probably some left over fear adrenaline) is the wide green pipe that came with it.

The man eating plant now disposed of, he sticks his entire head down into the empty blackness inside the pipe, causing his voice to echo. LOUDLY. ]

IT'S PRETTY AMAZING HOW THESE PLANTS DON'T HAVE ANY ROOTS I GUESS THEY SUSTAIN THEMSELVES ENTIRELY ON WHAT THEY CAN EAT.

02 – Screaming is probably some kind of medicine too

[Sorey doesn't get sick.

Growing up he had been shielded from any matter of maladies that affected humans and after he left that area of magical protection there simply wasn't any time to be sick in between his duties as a Shepard and self-reflection on what that duty entailed.

He's handling this and the subsequent paranoia about as well as you'd expect someone who's never had to be sick before.
Badly. ]

Hmmmm. I'm not listening. Nope. Uh-uh.

[ He has wads of tissue up each nostril and a hand insistently pressing against each ear and is talking at the passersby as if the murmurs of the crowd are addressing him personally.. ]

No one is murdering anyone! No one is going to transform into hellions, this place doesn't even work that way....Hahaha.

[ He takes a snotty inhale and start yelling. ]

03 – Return to happiness

[ The bundle is a few stalks of lily of the valley, tied together with a string made of dried and woven sweet grass. It makes him smile fondly in a soft and quiet way quite opposite to his loud and adventerous nature.

He doesn't yell at anyone, just sits on his porch and starts tying and bending the stalks to make a garland. ]

It was nice of Hope to do this. Do you know if he likes any kind of offerings in particular? I'm new here.

04 – ?

[ Hit me up with anything. He's a Nice Young Man who comes from a universe where negative emotions, guilt and suffering can actually corrupt you physically so if you're an especially bad egg that'll upset him something fierce. ]

01

[sparkingvalkyrie]

( Hard-pressed to actually take a bite out of Ichiji, the piranha plants can try all they like. He's laid waste to several simply because he ended up in a thicket of them.

At the edge of the gathering of them, Ichiji hears a voice echo and rip through his ears, making him wince in irritation more than anything else. )

Yes, how incredibly astute of you.

( He draws closer, flexing the fingers of his raid gauntlet; he nearly has a mind to tip the other into the pipe. )

I can't imagine what else is out here ... and what you might attract, being so loud.

Trish | Devil May Cry

[darksoulwithlight]

One - fun with guns and pointy things

[Trish is used to getting snapped at by things with teeth. Shadows, Basilisks, Blades... pretty standard demon hunting stuff and fairly normal in her line of work. You just stay out of the way of their teeth, pop a few rounds between their eyes or slice their heads off altogether. No head attached to a body means no biting... unless of course you're taking potshots at Sargossos.

Great big red and white snappy plants popping out of pipes? Not really factoring too highly on her intimidation scale. What is fun though is lurking just near enough for them to appear, slicing the heads clean off with a well-timed swipe from the Sparda and then juggling the decapitated, sometimes still snapping heads mid air with a few rounds from Luce and Ombra. It's like playing keep-upsies with a soccer ball. Only with guns.]

So, is this what passes for fun around these parts?

Two - don't think it's funny 'cause it's snot

[See, here's the thing about devils. They don't usually get sick with human things and are a fair bit more hardy to things like cuts, bruises and, most commonly in the devils she hangs around with, impalement, but colds and flu? Nah. Not really a thing. (Of course that doesn't mean Dante, being half-human, is immune to the odd sniffle which suffers with all the manly fortitude of a wet mop. Trish has very little patience for that.)

So it's somewhat alarming when Trish's nose starts to run. It's a bit of an alien feeling, rather like the first time she shed tears, but instead of that being a human gift, by the time her nose is fully streaming she realises that in the bodily fluid stakes, if tears are a gift then snot is the absolute worst gift of all time and she very much wants to exchange it.

She coughs, she splutters, she sneezes and good god does she ever hate feeling this cold and shivery despite the fact that she's burning up.

Halfway through a miserable coughing fit, she looks up at you, eyes puffy, nose streaming and bright red, and very earnestly without any hint of hyperbole asks:]

Am I dying?

jack wynand | bioshock

[orplasmic]

[1. chomp chomp]

[ One day Jack would like for something to go right for him. Ever since his goddamn plane went down in the middle of the Atlantic things have gone more than a little off the rails. So when he steps out of Fort Frolic and into another world entirely he feels it's entirely reasonable to immediately reach for his shotgun. Maybe it's unreasonable, maybe he's somewhere that won't try to kill him five minutes after he steps outside.

Two minutes later when he sends a pirahna plant flying 20 feet away with a telekinesis plasmid he's feeling really justified in his decision making process. He rolls up his sleeves and lets incinerate course through his veins and call fire into his free hand. ]

I can't catch a break...


[2. fondly yours]

[ The bouquet isn't fancy in the slightest. It's a somewhat ragged collection of daisies that looks like the sort of thing that a little kid might pick out. They aren't the sort of thing you'd get florist, instead reminding him of the flowers that grew wild around the farm back in Kansas. However irrational it is, Jack checks around for any little girls peering around from corners. He half expects to see a little sister to be behind this even though it's impossible.

They're probably not even meant for him, leading him to look around in askance at whoever happens to be nearby. ]

Were you expecting anything like this? I think someone left these at the wrong place.

[c. wildcard ]

[ Feel free to come up with something else if these aren't working for you. Feel free to PM me for plot stuff ]

Jack party over at #2 pls.

[ajackandanace]

[Jack raises a dusty grey brow at the modest bouquet before chuckling heartily]

Son. I think its a bit early in the relationship for us to be exchanging flowers

[His voice is husky with a hint of a southern drawl and made huskier by his laughing]

Especially considering we've only just met

Kat | Alphas

[6weeksmax]

they're coming to get you

[The paranoia is mostly gone now, but Kat's nerves are still frayed and on edge. Frankly, she kinda looks like shir, but she's looked worse, probably. She's definitely been kidnapped to be experimented on before, so the fear from just a day ago wasn't exactly unfounded, it's just--

Well, Dr. Rosen didn't deserve her ranting. Or her threatening to kick his ass. Or her throwing a shoe at him.

So.]

Uh--

[She stands half hidden behind the wall, half in his doorway, ready to run off if it looks like he's gonna attack her. You never know.]

Hey. So. Sorry about... all of that.



(ooc: want in? Replace Dr. Rosen and his pronouns for those that suit your character, or wildcard me c: )

[drabsolutelynot]

[The ranting was nothing too unusual in the broad spectrum of Rosen's career. The threat to kick his ass also was not particularly unique. Or at least it wasn't unique with the exception of the fact that it was coming from Kat.

And then the shoe..well...

...that was new.

When she appears in his doorway he sets down his pen and moves to push his glasses up farther on the bridge of his nose. Then he takes his time to formulate his answer, sighing, easing back in his chair, and half smiling in a tired sort of way]

It's alright, Kat. It wasn't your fault. And I prefer that it was me rather than a stranger who might have reacted badly.

Dani Rosen | Alphas

[touchyfeelsy]

fondly yours

[........flowers.

There's any number of people this could be, really. People here are sad and angry and lonely more often than not, and people who can help them somehow tend to become their favorites. Dani is well aware of the good she can do here, and the cost for doing so. She's not about to go door to doorto find out who sent her these flowers, which of course she's carrying with her, it's evidence.

No, she heads to the person she's almost sure sent them to her and knocks on their door.]

Hey. What's the occasion?

[She doesn't sound annoyed or accusatory, just curious, and relaxedly so.]

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen has an impressive track record for things he's been extremely successful at. Swim medals in high school. Valedictorian. Top of his class in med school...but 'being a father' could not be counted among the things he's done successfully.

Whatever kindness and grace Dani has retained in her adulthood she has in spite of him, not because of him. And he knows this now. Well really he's always known it, but his time here in Hadriel has forced him to do more than to simply 'know' it. When you just know a thing you can push it to the back of your mind. Ignore it. Let it fester or let it get covered up by the rest of the clutter in there.

His time in Hadriel has forced him to realize that he must act on what he knows and if he hopes for any progress he must act in a way that is foreign to him, because his tactics prior to this have all been certifiable failures.

Rosen must now be ok acting with the knowledge that he was the one who was wrong and he is the one who must do the heavy lifting to improve.

Though easier said than done.]

...not an occasion...just a sentiment.

[He looks uneasy in his chair, unused to expressing his more intimate feelings]

...a sentiment of being grateful that you are here.

[There's a falter in his voice as he worries that that sounded scripted, particularly frustrating because for once he was telling the unfiltered truth.

Maybe that's why it sounds so strange]

Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III ¤ Critical Role

[callhimpercy]

( One )

[Planar hopping isn't a new thing, really. Hell, expecting to be turned into monster food when planar hopping isn't really a new thing. It really says something that at this point in his life, Percival just isn't all that surprised by much.]

[(It can still happen. But giant, round, obvious plants with teeth aren't going to do it.)]

[The first plant that makes a grab for him gets a jump back out of wariness that probably a lot of people would recognize as someone who's gotten into his fair share of fights, and after that he's simply more wary than anything as he searches for more, for a way out, for any understanding of any of what's going on here. For the moment he leaves his guns holstered, the rifle slung across his back very big and very obvious and very much not the proper weapon here, drawing his sword instead and using the tip to poke into various places where shadows lurk and they could be laying in wait. There's only a limited number of bullets he has with him and no indication of when he'll be able to craft more, after all, and the plants don't seem to want to show themselves without direct bait anyway. As he warily moves and pokes with his blade, he can't help but speak to himself about... this whole planar mess.]

This seems almost petty in the grand scheme of things - these are annoyances, not threats.


( Three )

[So, hope is dead. Or at least, it is for him, for the most part. Never the most optimistic in his family, everything he's been through has turned Percy into one of those people that always expects the worst to happen and is more often than not proven right in his assumptions (even if it's partially by his own hand). He's seen good, but so far he hasn't seen it outweigh the bad; at least, not for him. So when he sees the bunch of flowers across the doorstep - a very artfully done bouquet of blue violets, lily of the valley, yellow rosebuds, and purple larkspur - his first thought is to wonder who dropped it. After all, there's no way it could be for him.]

[Percival watches the flowers blankly for two seconds, then shrugs a little and bends to pick them up, noticing that for something that was dropped there's very little damage to the flowers themselves.] I suppose it can't hurt to put you in water until whoever lost you comes back to claim you. And you're not to tell Keyleth that her habit of speaking to plants is starting to rub off on me.

one!!

[macgyver]

Is this normal for you? Oh - oh my god, they're everywhere.

[ Seriously, what the hell is up with the giant murderplants. Hugh's having a little bit of a time with them, obviously unarmed and low-key panicking; one already managed to snap at him and take half his sleeve with it, and the only reason it didn't get half an arm too was because it grabbed the prosthetic one. There are teeth marks in the gold paint. Who thought plants with teeth were a good idea?

Whoops, guy with guns and a sword, just. Gonna sidle up to Percy's side, although he's at least got the dignity not to cling. ]

What's the plan? [ A beat. ] I'm assuming and desperately hoping you have one.

Harley Quinn | DCEU

[goodnightbats]

1

They're so cute!

[Harley doesn't seem troubled by the fact that the plants are trying to take chunks out of people, herself included - she'd whacked one when she'd first woken up and found a blossom full of fangs in her face - but now, having discovered that all you had to do to remain safe was keep a few steps away she was watching the plant which was trying to eat her admiringly.]

Hey, you think I'd lose an arm if I tried to touch it? What are these things anyway?

2

[The paranoia was new, layered with all the usual crazy, and Harley wasn't initially sure that it was real as a result - she knew what kind of crazy she was, and the "everybody is out to get me" wasn't it. Of course, she'd though as she coughed, it wasn't really crazy if it was true, now was it? Other people certainly seemed like they were getting better faster than her, the medicine they were giving her - that anybody was giving her - wasn't real. Nobody thought she'd know enough to tell the difference, it was obvious! They were trying to make sure she was weak as a kitten and couldn't keep herself from being captured and locked up.

Well, she wasn't going back to prison, not here, not anywhere. So, sneezing pitifully, she had loaded herself with weapons and gone to get something that worked.]

3

[Harley, when she opens the door, almost trips, swears as something hits her foot, hops furiously back as she looks down to see what had been put on her doorstep, then pauses. She takes a step forward, bends down to pick up the thing, doublechecks the attached tag, and straightens with a squeal of excitement.

.......... it's a tiny potted piranha plant.]

It's so small! Whaddya eat when you can't eat people yet? ... wonder if anyone knows how fast they grow....

[Well, nothing for it but to find someone and ask.]

1

[so_dark_a_road]

[ Curufin is searching the arena for people who are in danger, as he sometimes does. He is about to attack the fanged blossom with his razor-sharp Elvish sword, but then he stops and grins in surprise. Harley is admiring the carnivorous plant, and she doesn't look frightened by it at all. ]

Probably, yes. And damn if I know! The gods come up with some new dangerous beastie or vicious vegetable every month.

Vex'ahlia | Critical Role

[stolentrinkets]

[ one ]

[Not a lot surprises Vex anymore. When you've gone up against gods and ancient dragons and beings that can kill you with a simple flick of their wrist - you learn to be scared of far greater things than mere plants.

Unless they're from the Feywild. Fuck Feywild plants.

The first piranha plant she saw wasn't the one to catch her - it was the second one, backed far into the shadows. She stepped a little too precariously close, and as she jumped away, the plant chomped a decent sized bite out of her cloak.] How - this is my favorite cloak, you stupid plant!


[ three ]

[She didn't have a favorite flower, per say. All of them were quite lovely, and she knew early on to appreciate them all. So to wake up to a bouquet of them on her doorstep was a welcomed surprise. She oohed and awwed for the first minute after she picked them up, taking the time to smell each and every one of them. Granted, they could be poisonous or magical or whatever - her ego overrides the logical part of her mind that tells her this could be a trap. Clearly more people have recognized that she deserves flowers.

But there's no indication who they're from. She can come up with a number of people in her head, but as far as she knows, that's not the case. She steps out past the door frame, looking up and down for any indication who they might be from.] Come now, darling, you don't need to hide. They're lovely flowers.

hello dear

[callhimpercy]

[A loud, resounding bang rang out around the area, one that Vex would instantly be able to identify. Percy is still bound and determined to save as many bullets as he can, but- ...this is Vex'ahlia. If he's going to use Animus for anything, it's going to be to save her. Not that she seems to need much saving now, and more often than not she's saving other people herself rather than needing to be saved, but the mere thought of Vex being in trouble is enough to jolt him into a surge of action and break out the big guns, even if he's not breaking out the actual big gun.]

[The shot is true and the plant dies with little effort, falling limply out of its nook to dangle on its stalk as he walks quickly up the street in her direction, holstering Animus and drawing his sword again as he moves.] Vex? Are you all right?

major ben tallmadge | turn: washington's spies

[spycurious]

ONE.

[Under burning sunlight, Ben steps lightly in what shaded areas he can find to avoid the snarling, toothy plants with his saber drawn and at the ready. He feels foolish carrying his helmet tucked under his arm, but as a matter of pride he will only abandon it if absolutely necessary; perhaps it's also a comforting thing to ease the unsettling concern over finding himself in a strange desert city.

It doesn't offer much protection from the suns anyway.

Ben is burning up not long after his arrival and has to abandon his helmet and his jacket, his face red from exposure to the alien sun(s). He tucks them away behind a pile of stones for later, rolls up his sleeves, and goes right back to it.

In the coliseum, he doesn't seem to have much trouble at all hacking away at the vines and 'necks' of the man-eating flora.

Should anyone at all need help, he will immediately come to their aid.]

TWO.

I'm fine, [he says, which is clearly nonsense as his flushed complexion, heavy-lidded eyes and the sniffs that plague him and incline him to reach for his handkerchief, wherever it is.

Ben isn't fine at all, and you either likely: Found him collapsed on the street, or coaxed him somewhere safer than the streets to which he is clearly unaccustomed.

In truth, Ben feels like he might be hot enough with fever to set anything flammable in his surroundings alight. He tries to sleep, but the effort is somewhat in vain as his dreams make him restless and, when he wakes, apparently agitated.

His weary blue eyes focus suspiciously on his helpful stranger and he wonders if he has been poisoned--surely he ought to be feeling better by now.

It's best to keep your eye on him, certainly when his gaze drifts to his sword and pistol lying within reach.]

THREE.

Flowers...

[Ben is dressed in a waistcoat and shirt still, though not his uniform, for he wouldn't dream of stepping out without some manner of decency even in an alien world. He spies the bouquet--Apple blossoms, roses and lavender. He plucks the bouquet from the ground and breathes in the fragrant smells that bring powerful images of home to the forefront of his mind.

He's quite new here, and he's not sure what to make of such a lovely gift, kind though it seems to be. He politely reaches out to the nearest person the street and asks,]

--I'm sorry to bother you, but... by chance, did you see who left these?

[Logic says 'probably not' but it's worth a shot.]




* * *

(I'll match your style, prose or brackets!

You can also do a WILDCARD if you so choose, and you're welcome to HMU at outofmany for that!)

three

[toiletseat_girl]

[George is on her way to the Clinic when this guy dressed like something out of another century asks her if she saw who gave him the very lovely bouquet he's currently holding. she takes a closer look at it. roses, that's easy. lavender? maybe? probably? yeah. the other one, she's not so sure about. she's not really the one to ask for interpreting the language of flowers. she barely gets by using the language of normal people most days]

You're not bothering me. If you were, I woulda kept walking. And sorry, but I didn't see who left 'em. Maybe someone's got a crush?