TEST DRIVE MEME ( 023 )

[lifeaftr_mods]

Test Drive Meme #23

Hello, and welcome to LifeAftr! We're pleased that you're expressing an interest in the game. Here, you can test the waters, gauge how your character may fare in the world of LifeAftr, and even gain some in-game incentives, if you so choose.

In conjunction with our monthly Test Drive Meme, Reserves are now open! Applications will open on April 24th!

Two important notes:

1. LifeAftr's test drives take place on the island of Mu, which exists apart from the real world and possesses a dream-like quality that characters are innately aware of from the moment they appear on its shores. No need to panic or fret. Dreams are odd things, after all - and anything can happen in them. Why would anyone question where their mind chooses to wander in its sleep?

2. Due to the nature of Mu, threads in our test drive can not only be accepted as thread samples in your application, but can be accepted as game canon as well. In fact, certain choices your character makes in Mu have the potential to bear in-game consequences, largely in the form of test drive reward items.

It's Hard Work
Today, Mu has sought to recreate the fantastic island of Io - the island where the local Avatar of Celebration resides. Io is resplendent with comforts and excitements designed for relaxation and delight, from wineries to play structures. One of the most popular draws are the bathhouses, which are massive, tiered structures of the utmost luxury. Multiple stories, hot and cold water, scented perfumes and shampoos...these bathhouses are designed for the utmost enjoyment and tranquility.

For paying customers, that is. Oh - did you think you were going to be relaxing? Not tonight. Tonight, you're on the bathhouse staff, and your job is to make those paying customers happy. Those customers, many of which appear to be nothing more than shadowy, faceless blobs of a vaguely humanoid shape, can make your life very miserable if they're unsatisfied with their care. So...get to it! We need more towels on the second floor. The water heater is broken - who here knows how to fix it? This one needs a very exact perfumed blend to go in their water, so you'd better learn it quick. Make sure those floors are clean before anyone goes walking across them. Keep this house running, and you might just be allowed to relax with a warm bath at the end of the day as a reward.

But if you don't do a fine enough job, you might very well regret it. The bathhouse patrons, strange as they may be, have one very particular talent, and that talent is luck. If they're satisfied with their care, you might find a handful of gold coins in the gutters when you're clocking out - and they may very well still be in your knapsack if you end up waking up on the shores of LifeAftr.

If they're not, however, you'd better be especially cautious for the next few hours. Slippery patches of ground will seem to appear with far more regularity, or a precarious stack of towels may tip over right as you're walking by, or the water heater will break as you're washing your hands and scald you from the elbows up in boiling hot water.

Do a good job, and you'll be rewarded. If not...well, at least it's only for the night, right?

A Drink With Jam and Bread
Also unique to the island of Io are the tea gardens, which are exactly what they sound like. With softly glowing lanterns and thick, fragrant groves of tea leaves growing wild, the tea house is nestled at the very center of the garden. Within, all manner of kettles and mugs and strainers can be found, as well as dried tea leaves, honeys, milks, and spices. You can mix and match your own blends, pick from some of the pre-existing teabags, or even wander about the garden to pluck a few tea leaves straight from the trees.

Some of these drinks are relatively harmless. Others...not so much. And they all tend to affect people differently, too.

[ ♆ ] Black tea will fill you with energy, far more than the high caffeine content might allow. You feel like you can run ten miles - no, twenty! This may also, however, reduce your conceptualization of your own limits. You might be able to feel like you can lift one thousand pounds...but unless you've got super-strength to compensate, you might end up hurting yourself trying to do exactly that.

[ ♆ ] Chai tea will give you the ability to breathe fire, though only in short bursts about five feet ahead of you. If you try mixing different things into your chai - such as honey or milk - you might find that you can breathe different colors of fire as well. Just...take care not to set anything on fire. Those lanterns are lit by all sorts of tiny, firefly-esque bugs, and if they feel antagonized, they'll try and burn you right back.

[ ♆ ] Chamomile tea will relax you completely and utterly. In fact, it'll make you incredibly sleepy. You might start feeling tired gradually, or you might conk out right on the spot. Almost any surface suddenly feels very comfortable and easy enough to sleep on, from the ground beneath your feet to your buddy over there. Chamomile: better than the world's greatest sedative, evidently.

[ ♆ ] Earl grey tea will allow you the ability to shift in phase: make yourself and any part of your body corporeal or incorporeal on a whim. Just be sure that you don't have your arms or legs sticking into any solid surfaces by the time the effects wear off - or that'll make for some very painful removal.

[ ♆ ] Green tea will drastically increase or decrease your tolerance for pain. Either you'll feel absolutely fine no matter what kind of punishment is heaped on you...or anything from sneezing to stepping on someone's foot can feel abruptly excruciating. It's worth noting that this does nothing for one's resistance to that kind of damage. Green tea only alters the sensation behind the pain, meaning that whatever damage you might undergo is liable to be damaging, no matter how much you might be able to shrug off.

[ ♆ ] White tea will dramatically increase your sensitivity to physical stimulus. This can be either enchanting or positively overwhelming. Imagine being able to lie down in the grass and feel each blade beneath you in excruciating detail. Imagine being able to feel every air molecule flicking across your skin. Whether this improves your day or absolutely ruins it is down to how much you enjoy that sort of thing.

So take care which of these blends you sample. Some of these effects might even stack, which can really ruin your day.

We Don't Need Another Hero
Fun doesn't always go hand in hand with relaxation. Perhaps you're the sort who'd prefer to have your adrenaline pumping, grinning around a missing tooth as you lay a beatdown on your opponent. Maybe you need some excitement and some action to really feel like you're living. Sure, you might get a few bruises - but check out the other guy.

As Mu is more eager to please on this front than its real world counterpart, those keen on letting loose all their pent up energy will find a rather good area for it. Inexplicably located within the complicated twists and turns of the Honeycomb is the perfect location to hurl yourself into an all-out brawl; an almost stadium-like fighting arena. Shadowy silhouettes are piled into the seats in excited speculation - you can hear them hissing and sputtering in disappointment or delight, or erupting into cheers, whenever blood is spilled.

Or....not spilled, as it were. Those who enter the fighting arena must pass through a curtain of clear, streaming liquid before they may take up a weapon. This will only temporarily strike you with the oddest sensation on your skin: a coating reminiscent of wax which provides the user with nigh invulnerability to even the most overpowered of attacks. Further experimentation will prove that the walls, floor, and ceilings also sport this exceptional defense. Blood, bruises, and structural damage might be off the table - but that good old fashioned brawl? It's on, like a cartoonish ape from a prominent video game series. What your audience wants is a spectacle, not a bloodbath, so you'd best give them the show they deserve.

Alongside the freedom to punch, kick, stab, and slash at one another without fear of permanent damage comes a complimentary arsenal for those who feel like getting creative. Honeycomb Sledgehammers, Cactus Clubs, and the ever popular arm holding onto another arm that's holding onto a knife are just a few of the weaponry that innocently rest at the edges of the battlefield, with a full selection limited by nothing more than your imagination.

Unfortunately, imagination is all it is - upon waking, those currently living in LifeAftr will find those weapons remain a fanciful dream...but the memories remain, nonetheless. And the aches might very well, too.

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

fjord | critical role

[barnaculled]

hard work;

[ While far from a stranger to hard work, this hospitality business is a bit new on Fjord. The stress of being thrown into an unfamiliar situation as a concept itself, however, has become an increasingly repetitive theme in his life over the past six or so months. Honestly? He's kind of just relieved to have someone else dictating what he should be doing and to have what he's doing seem so utterly inconsequential.

Yeah, if he can try to sweet-talk a dragon that wanted nothing more than to eat him and manage his way through a haunted, underwater bone orchard, Fjord can deal with this shit. Sure, the blobby shadow patrons creeped him the fuck out at first ( and to be honest, they still made him jump and yelp a little if they managed to sneak up on him ) but he's quickly learned to disregard their appearance in the same way anyone else might politely disregard a wonky eye or gruesome battle scar in favor of business. ]

( a )
[ The way Fjord's decided he's going to make it through this is by playing to his strengths. With his backwater drawl and a practiced disarming smile, he plays every part of a genteel escort to the incoming patrons, guiding them to the various communal or empty baths depending on the preference. At first it seems like there's always a more competent worker to hand them off to once they get to the bath itself so he doesn't have to figure out how to draw the water or all the little bath tokens. His luck in that respect runs thin at one point and with a hasty excuse to the patron, he finds himself slipping out into the hallway. ]

Hey! Psst! [ It's a hissing sort of stage whisper towards the nearest corporeal-looking person he can see. Should whoever not be interested in immediately entertaining a tall, green-skinned half-orc's request for attention, Fjord is not ashamed to dart after them. ] Hey now, beggin' yer pardon, but I've got one surly sumbitch waitin' back in that privte room. You wouldn't know how all them tab things work, would ya?

( b )
[ When Fjord starts to get sick of the patrons, he switches over to dedicating some mindless elbow grease to the tubs. Having had a large portion of his life dedicated to being a sailor, getting down and dirty to scrub a surface clean is like muscle memory by now. If someone else wants to get in and help him, he's not likely to make conversation, but he'll certainly respond to one or - should whoever clearly not know what they're doing - go over to make some friendly suggestions. He's always of the mind to try to be friendly first, but he's also not afraid or ashamed to try and kick someone incompetent out of his work area.

There's also a moment when, hearing someone hollering for towels or help otherwise where he sighs, puts his shit down, and goes to help. This is the 'Fjord is helpful' prompt, just hmu with a more specific scenario. ]

( c )
[ By the end of his shift, Fjord is good and ready to accept the reward of a bath. Who had told him he was entitled to that? He can't remember rightly, but he understands he is - such is the nature of dreams. But of course, because not even his own dreams can offer him a perfect scenario ( or these managers are just greedy fucks like every manager ) he's led to a communal pool. Apparently all the workers have to share the same 'reward' bath. Fuuuuckkk...

Fuck it. Fjord shucks his clothes and just bee-lines it naked over to the pool. Even though most people would say his toned physique is nothing to be ashamed of, he's nonetheless self-conscious about it and it might be obvious, even if he doggedly refrains from covering up anything. Once he's in the water, he sinks down until it's at his shoulders, sighing with relief.

To everyone gathered, he gives a friendly nod, but decides against saying anything for now. A memory arises, unwarranted, of the last time he'd visited a bath-house. Someone had been quite insistent about it being a good way to get to know everyone... But Fjord's not sure yet if that's a goal he wants to pursue. Maybe everyone here's just trying to get a quiet moment and a good scrub while they're being afforded the opportunity. ]

tea party;

[ It probably says something about him that he finds a dream about a garden tea party to be highly suspicious. Lately he'd been afraid to dream, for most dreams offered him the untouchable darkness at the bottom of the sea and terror. It's shady in the garden now, but not dark - more of a dim twilight with soft glowing lanterns and the occasional flutter of moon-winged moths. It's picturesque and Fjord doesn't trust it.

But he's still uncertainly milling around the tea selection. He's already made the "What, no beer?" side-comment to no one else's amusement, it seems. Fjord watches others serve themselves, noting the colors of the brews. He's thinking maybe he'd better go the Jester route and pour himself a cup full of milk since it doesn't seem cool water is on hand. ]

You don't suppose any of this tea's grown outta dead people, do you?

[ He muses to whoever's nearby. ]

not another hero;

[ Hey now, a fight Fjord can get behind. He's been watching contenders go at it in the arena for a little while now, fascinated by how no one who's getting their ass kicked really seems to be getting hurt. Eventually, he made his way down to check out the weapons rack. The stream he has to walk through perplexes him, but soon the waxy film settling on him makes him realize this is probably why no one seems to be getting hurt. Some sort of enchanted armor? That's outstanding! Holy fuck, if he remembers this waking up, maybe their wizard, Caleb, might like to hear about it? No, that's stupid - this is a dream.

A dream is also what he chalks the bemusing selection of weapons up to when he goes to check them out, though it doesn't really make them less bemusing. Fjord gives a little jump when he sees someone approach from the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, defenselessly. ]

Just lookin', compadre. Is there some sorta... tournament or somethin' goin' on?

[ Unlike some of his friends, Fjord's not really into beating into people for the sake of beating into them. He needs a motive - or even better a reward at stake for things like this. ]



[ ooc; Feel free to modify or offer up your own prompts! Just wanted to offer possible starting off points, but I'm far from married to them. Any questions feel free to PM! ]

hard work b!

[technicallytechnically]

[This dream is already way less fun than the reality of Io. Jester had some practice being a handyperson around the Mistake and the Ball Eater, but that doesn't quite directly translate to being an outright housemaid to some shadowy fake people. She's been quietly causing mischief where she can, slipping "surprises" into freshly laundered towels and sneaking paint into bathwater, you know, the general chaos tiefling M.O.

Of course, sometimes this means she gets caught. And chewed out. And left to grumble as she goes to clean up her mess.]

DOES ANYONE HAVE SOME EXTRA SOAP!?

[She yells in an entirely undignified and entirely careless way, because she doesn't think to worry about the patrons being alerted to their "invisible" helpstaff. She's a little busy cleaning up the remains of her last, perfectly executed paintbomb.

Someone walks up and she assumes they've gotten the extra soap she asked for, and she turns to grab it—and her fingers connect with a very familiar set of green-toned, clawed hands. She jumps a bit, her hand recoiling out of sheer surprise, and then she sees who it is.

And she gasps. The most exaggerated, overdramatic gasp ever heard, her eyes widening about two sizes in the process.]

diego hargreeves 🔪 the umbrella academy

[guidedblade]

🔪 it's hard work

Diego knows he's been spending too much time doing odd jobs and janitorial work around the gym when he starts dreaming about mopping up and fixing the boiler. It's weird that he's dreaming he's in a bath house, because usually when Diego dreams, they're very mundane, copies or mashups of the things he did during the day. Sure, maybe he dreams he's fighting a gang of home invaders in the gym, using a mop, but it's not some fantastical thing he's never seen in a movie or whatever.

Still, he's amiable enough, mopping the floor while the big faceless blobs wander by, ducking his head politely but not talking much unless spoken to. When the boiler goes down and there's a huge flurry of panic, well. Diego's fixed the boiler a few times in the past few years, so he heads on over, leans in to look at the pressure gauge.

"Hey." he asks whoever might be around, "Mind handing me that screwdriver over there?"

🔪 we don't need another hero

This is more like it.

Still weird, for a dream, but Diego's always functioned best when he has a productive way of getting rid of the aggression that's perpetually building up in him. And fighting is what he does best.

Smirking, he swaggers into the stadium, picks up a bandolier full of assorted types of ridiculous knives, tilts his head and withdraws one, holding it between two fingers, the picture of cockiness.

"You really sure you wanna take a go at me?"

🔪 wildcard

Honestly just write me a random starter wherever and I'll reply, even if your character's just minding their own business. Or you can hit me up at coffee #6251 on Discord or private plurk me at caffemisto.

hard work

[fourgasm]

Hey, so this dream? Klaus hates it! He tried to explain to anyone within earshot, fellow workers, supervisors, or patrons alike, that he's pretty sure he's permanently deferred from any and all employment. It's just that real world logic doesn't apply to dream logic, and so Klaus can't actually explain in a meaningful way to anyone around him that he's never had an actual job in his life, nor does he have the skills necessary to have gotten this one in the first place.

Some workers are entry level, and some workers are at a secret, lower level than that. Klaus is even lower than those guys.

So he's mostly just trying to stay out of the way and sneak snacks and wine where he can, doing his best to not look obviously like he's shirking every single one of his responsibilities. He just also happens to be within earshot of the boiler shitting itself.

And within earshot of a very familiar voice asking for a screwdriver.

So. While he normally might've just gone for cover so no one could try to get him to help repair the thing, instead he just sort of hovers closer to where his brother is checking out gauges and what have you.

And then, rather than handing Diego a screwdriver, he hands him a screwdriver.

Okay, not really, they don't do a ton of vodka drinks at the winery here, it's just a glass of wine.

[evergonnahaunt]

"No, but I can't actually hand you anything." He absolutely can, but the important part here is Diego doesn't know he can and Ben actually doesn't feel like doing anything. "Klaus isn't here."

Since this is a dream, Ben's not particularly surprised that Diego's here. Five said everyone would be coming soon and so of course that would mean that their other siblings would show up. And because he was in a dream with Klaus before arriving, it would make sense that Diego would also show up in a dream first. It doesn't occur to him that the opposite isn't necessarily true and that Diego might be surprised by his presence. Well, and might not necessarily recognize him.

They all saw Klaus channel him, but at the same time none of them were really close enough to properly see that he's aged. That shouldn't even be possible, really, but Ben stopped questioning it ages ago. It's Klaus' coping mechanism, not his.

[guidedblade]

"Oh hey thanks."

Diego says it casually, holding his hand out expectantly when he hears someone come up behind him. But instead of a knobby screwdriver handle, he finds himself holding the cool stem of a glass of wine.

For a moment, he just stares at it, completely puzzled. This dream just got really weird.

Then his gaze lifts and he makes direct eye contact with Klaus, and everything makes sense. Of course Klaus would hand him alcohol instead of an actual tool. Of course.

"Seriously, man? I thought you were sober."

[guidedblade]

The person responding to him doesn't exactly catch his attention at first, he just sort of hums and nods, turns and grabs the screwdriver himself. Then it registers that the guy mentioned Klaus, and he stops to take a look at him seriously.

There's something distinctly familiar about him. Not really the way he looks, but maybe the demeanor? Maybe...a friend of Klaus that Diego's seen at some point? Or is it...where has he seen that face before...?

Wait.

It clicks a moment later that the guy said he can't hand him anything because Klaus isn't here. Who does he know who needs Klaus to...

Diego's mouth drops open, and he lifts a hand, points at the guy.

"W-w-w-wait...Ben?"

[evergonnahaunt]

"Uh, yes?" There's a hint of duh in his voice. "I did say I was coming when Five asked."

Aside from the obvious visual differences, there's a kind of tone in Ben's voice that's reminiscent of Klaus. It's a kind of flippant familiarity, like of course that's how it is, and it probably seems a little bit at odds with the vaguely shy and soft-spoken Ben that Diego probably remembers.

"By the way, Five's here too." Ben's kicking his feet back and forth idly while he sits on something nearby. "Everybody else hasn't shown up yet, though."

[fourgasm]

"Oh, come on." It's almost like Klaus can't fall off the wagon in peace over here. He's not even high right now, just slightly tipsy. This is so rude.

And he would have a lot more of a leg to stand on to be annoyed that he's getting the "I thought you were sober" yet again if he hadn't... recently tripped on shrooms. And also gotten the name and location of a guy who can hook him up with some pot. At least the first time, when Ben said something similar, Klaus was genuinely innocent. Somehow, though, this just makes Klaus more agitated about it.

"This is a dream, it doesn't even count." So obviously the answer is to deflect.

[barnaculled]

[ That familiar timbre and cadence ( petulance included ) has Fjord practically dropping the mop he'd been using to saturate the surface of a massive, drained tub out of shock alone. After another second of surveying his work so far and saying 'fuck it', Fjord sets the mop down and makes to clamber out of the tub... then returns quickly to snag up the soap. Hey, if the powers-that-be here come by, any excuse is better than no excuse!

He's delighted and relieved that his ears haven't deceived him when he catches sight of an all too familiar stature and shade of blue down the hall. Fjord puts his head on a swivel as he approaches with some stealthy haste ( obviously not that stealthy since she heard him, but an attempt was made ). The attention he's putting into not getting caught by someone else means he's startled when he's caught by her. The half-orc jumps at the same time as the tiefling, his shocked expression soon opening to a self-depreciating little grin. ]

Well hey there, Jester.

[ It's about damn time he found a familiar face in all this weirdness! Seriously, what are his dreams lately? Though if Jester here's a figment of his imagination, what's she doing looking so surprised to see him...?

Almost like some sort of consolation prize, Fjord extends the hefty bar of orange, marbled soap he'd carried up to her; it's got some big hunks cut out of it since he's been using it in the cleaning solution for the baths, but there's still plenty left. His smile slants towards the more conspiratorial, yellow eyes narrowing with a hint of mischief. ]

You needed some soap?

[ It is, indeed, Fjord. He's down his armor and up one bath house uniform - a flowey-sleeved light blue shirt cinched at the waist over some loose navy trousers that draw in 'high-water' style about mid-shin - but he's otherwise the same as she remembers him down to the silver scars on his two-toned face. ]

[technicallytechnically]

[This is not Jester's first dream rodeo, alright. She's had a bunch, especially since the first one where a nice human dude told her she might wake up on an island, and then she totally did.

Fjord might wake up on an island, and if he does, that means... They're going to have to reshuffle their sleeping arrangements in the Nein Hut again, huh.

Jester visibly goes through about two-point-five of the five stages of grief before she realizes Fjord is... handing her a bar of soap.

She takes it without even really looking at it. She's staring at his face, thanks. His handsome half-orc face.]

Fjord. I need you to tell me something really, really important. And I need you to tell me the truth.

Did you see a bunny.

[barnaculled]

[ The tentative warmth of amusement and familiarity snuffs out like a candle as Jester speaks not only of 'really, really important' but 'truth'. Oh fuck. Fjord looks grave for a moment, straightening up and folding his arms across his chest. Then the other shoe drops. ]

A bunny.

[ ...

Of course. Why does he keep falling for this stuff? ]

Should... I have seen a bunny, Jester?

[ His pitch seems to climb the stairs of skepticism while he squints at his old compatriot. You're doing him a Concern, Jester, though Fjord's not sure if it's for her or for himself. ]

hard work c!

[devilstongue]

[ Dreams are cruel sometimes. You have a stray thought to some old memory and then your brain decides to play that memory out for you. At least that might be the reason why a very familiar lavender tail swishes in Fjord's peripheral vision, and the nude body of a certain tiefling slips into the water not far away from Fjord.

It's undoubtedly Molly, even if his horns are oddly free from delicate jewelry and instead adorned with twine and red rocks. He doesn't seem to have noticed Fjord quite yet, looking rather exhausted and a bit unkempt.

(He knew the wonderful bath house had to come with a catch, but even if he's tired, he still thinks it was definitely worth it.)

It's an odd dream, isn't it? Especially when those ruby eyes open and fixates on the half-orc, widening a bit in surprise. ]

Fjord?

but of course you did

[barnaculled]

[ Think of the devil in his favorite type of temple... and he shall appear.

At this point, Fjord's slouched back against the wall to chin-deep in the hot water and rubbing at his sore arms, on the way to something like peace through practiced ignorance of everyone else around him. He only looks over because Molly gets in so close to him he can't help but want to clock a potential threat to his personal bubble. Once he looks, he can't stop staring. Gone might be the typical accoutrements, but the holes, the scars, and the ink remain the same.

Mollymauk Tealeaf, alive again if only for a dream.

Fjord wasn't there when Molly was killed, nor when he was buried. Those red rocks in his horns may well be from the soil of the Glory Run - it's what he thinks they might be symbolic of, anyway. His guilt has never left him, after all, so it makes sense his mind would adorn the man in such as a reminder of how Fjord failed him. Then the tiefling looks at him with those blood red eyes and, in saying his name, effectively throws a snare around the half-orc's heart. His breath hitches, more from the pain of it than anything. In a way the internal constriction is nearly as bad as the bone-crushing coils of his patron. This is the part where he'd wakes up, now that the ache of it has hit the ceiling.

Outwardly, Molly can witness Fjord gaping at him open-mouthed like a dumb-struck fool. ]

M-Molly...

[ Just saying it springs tears to his eyes and spilling over his cheeks, weak as his voice is. They don't have long to fall before Fjord's immediately just dipping his head underwater, disappearing from view for a second or so; it's such a sudden reaction one might almost worried he was yanked under by something else.

But a second passes and Fjord's sitting back up, having used the moment to get his feet under him so he could properly push himself back upright and onto the seating ledge. He expects to wake up from the water, but he doesn't. He expects Molly to no longer be there when, after a gasp of air, he brushes his hair out of his face ( the sides have almost fully grown in now, having not been tended to for months ). But he is.

Fjord's face and hair drips with water he doesn't try to wipe away as he stares at Molly. He looks stricken, brow furrowed and lips thin. He doesn't know what to do or say to the specter for a moment, but then figures Molly must be here for a reason. ]

Hey... What're you doin' here?

[ Fjord inquires, his tone as befuddled and gentle as someone being woken up from a heavy sleep. ]

u know me

[devilstongue]

[ It's strange, how used he's gotten to having the girls around, acting like normal. How he tends to forget he's dead sometimes after pushing their first reactions far, far down in his mind. Here it was again, though.

Shock. Tears. Grief. He hates it; he doesn't want to be the cause of their sorrow. (It hurts to see them this way, but how could he say that when they hurt so much more?)

When Fjord comes up from under the water, Molly has moved closer. Not so annoyingly - so Mollymauk - close as he would if this was just another Nein bath time moment, but fairly intimate. Nobody else needed to see this. It wasn't their reunion. ]

Hey.

[ Great, he's the best at this. What is he supposed to say? Hi, I'm still dead, just trapped here? Thanks for taking my blade, that was a good call? Did you guys ever stop being pirates or should I call you Captain now? ]

Just having a soak after a busy day. It's a nice dream, isn't it?

[ He doesn't want Fjord to be trapped here with the rest of them. It was a dangerous, shitty place that liked to torture them... but it was nice to see another familiar face, at the same time.

Sighing, Molly moves to slide in next to the half-orc and runs his hand through his own, slightly longer hair. Better just treat it as a dream and let Fjord process it that way. If he somehow didn't end up here later, then maybe it was a just a good night's sleep for him.

Talking to ghosts.]

You look scruffy. Yasha didn't shave you?

[itsaname]

Hm?

[ It takes effort for Shadow to raise his eyes and convince them to focus on the other man. Too much effort. He tries to formulate a response, but his mind feels slow and sluggish, and his words are delayed. ]

Yeah. I, uh.

[ He squints against the blurriness at the edges of his vision. ]

I think I need to sit down.

[postictal]

I'd say you do, yeah.

[Feels like his heart's moving a million miles a minute. Feels like the world's buzzing on past. Groves of bitter-smelling leaves and there's caffeine in his veins and adrenaline soaked in his soul and here this guy looks like he's about to pass out.]

[They should switch places, honestly.]

What're you drinking? You know? Someone spike it?

not another hero!! also HEY

[lesbeau]

[It's a cool place, to be sure. It's rare Beau gets to go anywhere and not pull her punches when she's fighting someone, with the added benefit of not having a broken bone at the end of it. She could take a little more blood though, it really ruins the ambiance.

She's exiting the ring as Fjord addresses her, rolling her shoulder without much fanfare, when her eyes land on him.]

Oh shit. Hey.

[Well, this isn't the first time someone's showed up when she's... dreaming? Could be. If pressed Beau might admit to not paying a lot of attention. What's important is he's supposedly here, so lets work with that. She crosses her arms, tilting her chin at him.]

You seen any of the matches yet? I dunno if there's an official prize, but I've seen people in the crowd throw stuff, so.

[machina_ex_luna]

This is a very human gesture. At first, EDI is uncertain what, exactly, to do with her arms. But she has been practicing, in her own time, and responds with what an organic would perceive as admirable grace; in machine-time the pause is palpable, very nearly awkward.

But the intention behind it is both welcome, and reciprocated. When an appropriate span of time has elapsed, she steps back.

"Thank you."

HEY LESBRO

[barnaculled]

[ Seeing who it is, Fjord perks in surprise and delight, dropping his hands and easing his stance open. The human looks like she's on her way out of the ring; had he taken so long to get down from the stands or been so distracted by his curiosity for the weapons he bee-lined ( heh ) for the rack without seeing her fight? Or had she just manifested out of the dreamscape ether?

Fjord, for his own part, looks just like Beau remembers him, give or take some more hair growth. The hair that was once shaved has nearly filled in enough to match the length along the top of his head; not a lot of time between the stress of a pirate's life and accidentally becoming Xhorhassian Dynasty 'heroes'! He's still wearing the same beat-up, old leathers, though. ]

Hey yourself!

[ Fjord's dreaming of an arena where a fight is on. Beau's here. This is the most sense one of his dreams has ever made to him, which makes the warlock briefly question whether this is actually a dream...

Naw, of course it is. They're in what looks to be one big-ass bee hive and Fjord can't remember how he got here. He knows his memory can be pretty spotty when it comes to details, but not blackout level. So right now his working theory is Jester and Caduceus chatting about bees by him had just planted something in his subconscious to blow up for him later. ]

I've seen a couple from the stands up there. There was one with some sorta weird, short cyclops creature with a glowin' eye facin' off against a human woman wearin' nothin' but some sorta goggles... But what's even weirder is both of 'em looked like they were made of metal! Like two suits of armor goin' at it except for uh-- you know, all the lady bits.

[ Yeah, that's some straight up dream shit right there. How'd he ever doubt it? ]

Then some human chucklefuck came out with a glaive and got his ass ricocheted around the ring by some half-giant lookin' sumbitch. I swear I saw that glaive stab into an eyeball at one point and it just bounced right back!

[ He folds his own arms, but lets one hand come up to rub and stroke his chin. ]

Y'know... not to come off as blood-thirsty, but I'm kinda wonderin' what the fuckin' point might be. When you say throwin' stuff, are we talkin' roses or rocks?

[guidedblade]

Even as Klaus protests, Diego is shaking his head, staring in disgust at the glass of wine, and it's pretty obvious Klaus actually isn't sober this time. Maybe not out-of-his-mind high, but he's had a drink or two. Diego can smell it on his breath, dream or not.

When Klaus says that it's a dream and doesn't even count, Diego's brow smooths, and he smirks slightly. Maintains eye contact and tips his hand, spilling the wine out onto the floor by the boiler.

"Fine. If it's a dream and doesn't count, that shouldn't bother you."

Shaking his head (again, because Klaus has that effect on him), he puts the glass down on a nearby shelf, and scoops up the screwdriver.

"What the hell is this place, man?"

[barnaculled]

[ In addition to having sat up straight, Fjord's twisted himself so that he's now half-facing Molly and half-facing the wall behind them, one scarred arm curling against the stone lip of the tub as if for support or secrecy more than ease. The two of them agree this isn't a production to put on for an audience, fabricated as Fjord's convinced this all is. Yeah, he's hiding himself from even his dreams, and parts of his dream from his other dreams, according to his current understanding of the situation.

Now that he realizes he's not waking up any time soon, Fjord's immediate priority is getting a grip on himself. His heart's throbbing at a heavy, aching tempo, but the pain of the initial shock is fading with every consciously measured breath he's now taking. Perhaps Molly will feel grateful - a slip of his composure was beyond the former sailor's control, but he's not about to start bawling or shouting, not about to fling himself onto his lost friend or anything else that could be seen as a perfectly natural reaction. That isn't the type of person Fjord is, not the sort of man he's survived to be; his feelings clot in his chest on instinct now and he resigns himself to work on soothing down the seams. ]

I... suppose.

[ The half-orc looks almost as lost as he feels, expression soft and vulnerable. Molly's been dead longer now than Fjord's ever known him and he's forgotten how to act around his old friend. Fuck, he's surprised this 'figment' of the tiefling seems to sport even a remote resemblance to Molly's accent and voice; he'd been sure he'd forgotten that too.

The question sparks a bittersweet tug at one corner of his lips. ]

She hasn't offered. Did Caleb twice now, though, and the last time he looked lucky she didn't hit an artery. So I'm not certain I mind.

[ There's a slosh as his hand rises from the water to self-consciously begin coaxing the sides back behind his ears. ]

Does it look bad?

[guidedblade]

Diego had never been particularly close with Ben before he'd died. He hadn't really been particularly close with anyone other than Mom when he was a kid. Sure, he'd liked a few of them well enough - Ben and Klaus and Vanya mostly - but he'd never been really close. He'd always had too much of his own shit going on.

So he's not really sure how he's supposed to react when his dead and previously very shy and kind of too-gentle-for-this-shit brother is suddenly appearing without Klaus and making a sarcastic comment. Staring, he opens his mouth and then closes it, eyes still wide, shakes his head as if to clear away a brain fog, clarifies to himself that Ben is still sitting there kicking his feet and telling him Five's here too.

"Huh."

Very eloquent.

"That's, uh. Wow."

The man has a way with words.

i.

[barnaculled]

[ The two green creatures having the discussion - one a toad, the other a tall man who looks human aside from his pointed ears - look over to regard the source of the terse interruption. A pair of yellow, viper-like eyes give Kaiba a once over before the taller of the pair takes a step to clear the hall.

"Well there you have it!" Shrills the frog, who also reaches into the collar of his uniform to procure a long, wooden pipe. "It's your problem. You take him!" ]

Where're the tools?

[ The half-orc inquires, but the frog, pipe now clamped in mouth, just springs dismissively down the hall at speed past Kaiba. ]

Fuck...

[ Fjord scowls after their manager, the black-clawed fingers of his right hand twitching. He's tempted to launch a magical bolt after the damn thing, but his eyes twitch back to the human. He sighs. ]

I dunno where the boiler-room is yet, compadre, but how'd you feel about takin' a walk 'til we find it?

[ One scarred brow ticks up. There's a drawl to his speech - a good ear might guess East Texas, a bad one the American South, though neither are anywhere near the truth. ]

hard work

[deadlylittlething]

A Hargreeves brother doing some simple, honest work in this dream? Apparently, it's more likely than you think. Obviously that brother is not Five, who at any point in his life has literally six to ten better things to do than whatever he's being told. The first person who'd gotten pushy about putting him to work is still struggling to remove a broom handle from their thigh. He hasn't been staying in any area long enough to be noticed since then.

Of course, some sort of upper management panic warrants a closer look and he wanders into the boiler room, carrying a drink with an umbrella in it that he relieved some patron of. If he's surprised to see Diego he doesn't show it, instead opting to slip a hand into his pocket and hover with mild interest.

"I'm curious. Do you actually know what you're doing? Doesn't exactly seem like your... area of expertise." Can't be solved by stabbing it, for one.