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worldofmemeness2016-09-30 05:31 pm
modmachine) wrote in worldofmemeness2016-09-30 05:31 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE 01
Don't feel limited to the scenarios presented - make up your own prompts as much as you want! Reserves will open on the 7th and Applications on the 15th. In a grassy square in the Central District, wedged in between dorm halls, there is a tree. Far wider than it is tall, its leaves are just beginning to turn from yellow to orange, with a few green stragglers near the top and a growing carpet on the grass beneath it. At one end of the tree's reach, there is a picnic table, the sort with benches built in to either side. Anywhere under the boughs, a distinct ticking, like the sound of a clock, can be heard. Moving about makes it clear that the sound is loudest nearest the trunk. Numerous small gears stick out of twists between branches, though they do not appear to move to the naked eye. Someone has hung a string of orange lights in the branches for Halloween, along with some cotton spiderweb. No matter how closely you look, there doesn't seem to be an end where the lights plug in to anything. Otherwise, there is nothing unusual about the decorations. In the center of the table, half-covered by leaves, there is an iron plaque that has not been particularly well-treated for rust. Some of the writing on it is almost legible. It is chill to the touch. Someone's carved their initials and a date into the end of one bench - Abandoned vehicles are by no means an unusual sight in the Sixth District. Abandoned buses are slightly more unusual. This particular bus has boarded up windows, a black light string hanging over the windshield, and the words HAUNTED HOUSE written along the side, where the old inoffensive public-transit advertisements have been painted over. The front door serves as the entrance; the back leads into the wrecking yard and the haunted "house" proper. A girl in her late teens in slightly unsettling gothic lolita sits in a cheap folding chair around the front of the bus. She doesn't charge admission, though there is a candy bowl labeled for Donations on the card table next to her with a few bills and some change in it, in the center of a group of candles that burn in skull holders. She reminds everyone who passes her to please not touch the actors or props inside. Occasionally, mist from a smoke machine on the other side of the wooden fence billows around her ankles, almost seeming to form caressing fingers running down her legs. Across the street from her, two men sit in a beaten up old pickup truck, the much taller man smoking cigarettes with the windows open. The shorter man fidgets almost uncontrollably, constantly glancing in the direction of the girl and her bus. Their voices aren't loud enough to hear distinctly from the haunted house side of the street, but the woman at the bus entrance shoots them occasional looks none-the-less, alternating between pleased smiles and blank stares. Painted along the sides of the truckbed, in much dirtier letters than those of the haunted house, is the phrase NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH. In a bar downtown, it's not much different from any other night of clubbing, except that everyone is wearing masks. Ranging from the elegant custom work of a nearby boutique (conveniently open even after sundown tonight, if you need to pick one up) to cheap colored paper held on with elastic handed out at the door of the bar, masks are the must-have accessory tonight. Indeed, many of the parties won't let you in if you don't have one. Those paying careful attention might notice little dots of red on the necks of some of the partiers, especially those who seem a bit pale and have called off drinking for the night. Aside from that, though, it doesn't seem like anyone's really getting hurt; it's just a fun time for everyone. Except for the poor guy who made the mistake of wearing an owl mask and yellow contacts, anyway. Just within hearing range of the beating bass of the clubs, a young woman in a red jacket holds a mask in her hands, turning it over and sometimes holding it to her face to look at in a window reflection. The long face of it calls to mind some kind of black dog, perhaps a Doberman or German Shepherd. She isn't dressed at all for an evening at the clubs, and has a canvas bag slung over her shoulder with the shape of heavy books straining the fabric at the bottom. Not everyone seems to be getting into the spirit. A playground near the center of the city has precious few decorations - save for a spiderweb on one of the swingsets that seems to be natural, not man-made. A pumpkin or two have been left near the edges, but they're all smashed, the orange guts running along in a streak that seems to blend into a thin line surrounding the entire perimeter. The see-saw looks like the board's been freshly painted, but otherwise all of the equipment looks almost lonely and old. The rust on the metal stains everything an orange-red, and the slide in particular seems the worst hit. Still, everything is at least standing, and those who attempt to play on it will find it sturdy and warm in the cool night. ... Except for the merry go round. That one seems to be bent, as if someone very heavy sat on the edge. It still turns, but it wobbles dramatically, with horrible squeaking noises. Still, it's usable, for anyone who would like to play. | |
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"I hate animals," he hisses in annoyance, reaching again for the cat, though instead of flat out trying to rip her off this time, he goes for the paws to try and pry them loose. "At least Arietta's monsters would listen when you yelled at them." He's not expecting the small creature to understand him, picking it to be a younger monster who hasn't grown up enough to even begin to possibly understand human speech.
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There is exactly one thing that she can do in this form to actually hurt someone, since her teeth seem to be completely useless.
Throw magic at them. Considering how close the aim is, she refrains from the more destructive ones and simply throws an immaterial punch against the attackers whole body (this obviously is an excellent plan when you have your claws sunk into them). Unless he can somehow avoid it, the punch will hit Sync with the force of a troll swinging his fists at him but cause a few bruises at most.
[ooc: Let me know if this isn't okay!]
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If she's magical enough to be throwing magic at him, she's magical enough to know that the glare Sync sending at her means the little restraint he had just snapped. Hopefully she can move in a hurry, because Sync just snarls and retaliates in kind - however the icicles from the arte he's casting are in no danger of hurting him. He's perfectly happy to drop it on them both, because the ice just passes through him like he's not there. Kitty though...well. She might take a battering.
((OOC: Totally fine, I am just so sorry because he is a jerkass who would retaliate like a meanie ;; ))
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If there's one thing that she's not good at, it's dealing with damage - she might heal quickly, but her body is rather tiny and frail, after all. And you cannot heal from death.
So she takes a leap, getting off the guy and aiming to land under the wooden table. Hopefully that will be enough cover, and if not - her ears and tail twitch as she tries to get up a barrier to shield her. How high was the chance to run into another magic user.
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Sync seems to have totally ignored the cat now she's off him, not focused on her at all. His only goal was to get her off, he's not about to chase her down when it's probably going to get him smacked in the face with magic again. "Cats..."
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And then just sits there for a long moment, breathing flatly as she tries to push away the mental exhaustion that came with the barrier. Once she's back on her paws, she pads to the border of the shielded field, visible because the barrier glows faintly, and peers out at her attacker. Falling was bad enough, and then to get grabbed by whatever you landed on...
Rude. But he also seems to be a powerful mage, to create icicles that seemed to be quite manifest but still not hurt him. That makes her curious, the kind of curiosity that is paired with caution: Find out more about a possible danger.
The main question is, of course, if he's a salaried mage or not. But if he were protecting the school area, he wouldn't be ignoring her now, would he? She nervously glances around. Is this a trap? She doesn't normally have to worry those kind of worries alone, Ivokat and Leo in her ear for this kind of questions. But they aren't here. That doesn't usually bother her this much, but when she's in trouble...
She continues watching the guy.
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He's aware of her watching him, even as he pays her no mind. Being aware of your surroundings was important, and Sync knows the little cat isn't just an ordinary cat. Whether that makes her some kind of monsters or whatever this weird place had in it, he doesn't know. But if she'll not bother him, he won't bother her. It's not his job to investigate weird cats. His job is mostly working out what the hell was going on.
"Tch..." Finally he looks at her an eyebrow raised. What do you want, cat?
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It's not quite telepathy what she is doing, it's speaking on the astral plane. Spiritually, so to say, just not in a religious sense. She's witnessed being understood that way before in that place; why not try again with someone who is obviously capable of magic?
She's still sitting between the faintly glowing barrier, still feeling a bit wonky, but her eyes are clear again, glowing up at him.
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"If I recall right, you attack me first. I just wanted you off." His tone is dry, a little unamused. Sync isn't in the mood to hurt his neck looking down at her, so he crouches and sits cross-legged, resting his head on a hand. All in all, he almost appears bored.
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She sounds a bit sullen, and her age shows in her voice.
The way in which he is sitting implies that he isn't going to attack her immediately at least, so she relaxes a bit further. The barrier stays, though.
You attacked me first.
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"I was trying to pull you off. You're the one who panicked about it."
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And cursed and yelled while he did.
...So you don't belong to this place?
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"No. I woke up in this weird city a few hours ago. I don't even know where I am."
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She'd normally be a lot less trustful about that explanation, but... well. It applies to her, too, though it's been a few days instead of a few hours. She had enough time to figure out this city enough to locate a safe space for all the things that she needs or has a use for in her human form.
Is your home place very different from this?
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'My friend' is a great way to refer to her teammates without raising suspicion or naming names. The initial idea was Leo's, and she just stuck with it. Besides, she does consider her teammates friends, even though she's been told that that isn't particularly safe.
People do it because they want to get scared but in a way that they know to be harmless. And children get sweets. And everyone eats pumpkin flavoured foods.
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"Weird. Why would anyone want to be scared?" Sync was fairly hard to scare since he just tended to automatically go into 'analyse and work out the threat' mode.
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But then... you can't harness that when the situation isn't actually scary, so it doesn't sound like a good explanation even to her.