bocadelmods: (Default)
Boca Admins ([personal profile] bocadelmods) wrote in [community profile] theodeon2024-03-08 08:34 pm
Entry tags:

Test Drive Meme #1

A Choice to Make
 

In the midst of your mundane existence, amidst a meal's consumption or perhaps amidst a desperate struggle for survival, you find yourself teetering on the precipice between consciousness and oblivion. Whether it's the mundanity of everyday life or the shock of an unforeseen revelation, the next chapter in your tale is etched in the unfathomable tapestry of destiny. Abruptly, a shimmering azure tear in reality wrenches you from your reality, hurling you into the depths of a foreboding cavern. Within its shadows, two sinister whispers assail your senses, each vying for control over the path you must tread. One beckons from the left, promising dominion and power under the aegis of an enigmatic ruler, while the other lures from the right, pledging a noble crusade for justice and salvation. With each step, the choice you make echoes with the weight of eternity, determining the very fabric of your existence

As you stand at the crossroads of fate, the air thickens with anticipation, suffused with a palpable sense of ominous uncertainty. The leftward passage glimmers with an otherworldly allure, hinting at the seductive allure of authority and supremacy. Yet, the rightward path beckons with an ethereal glow, resonating with the righteous fervor of a hero's quest to vanquish darkness. Each voice, a siren's call to divergent destinies, casts its spell upon your soul, weaving a labyrinth of moral ambiguity. For in this twilight realm where the veil between worlds grows thin, your decision is not merely a choice but a covenant with forces beyond mortal comprehension. Whichever path you elect to traverse, know that the consequences shall echo through eternity, shaping the very essence of your being in ways unfathomable to mortal minds.
 

  1. Evil

 

Emerging from the left tunnel, you step into a labyrinthine city carved from the very bones of the earth, illuminated by flickering torchlight that casts eerie shadows upon the twisted visages of its denizens. Monsters, grotesque and malformed, roam the streets with a purpose that sends shivers down your spine. It becomes chillingly apparent that within this infernal metropolis, your destiny lies entwined with a bid for power at the side of a shadowy sovereign. Amidst the clamor of preparation, the temple to the enigmatic entity known as the First Evil looms ominously, its dark allure drawing in supplicants like moths to a flame. Should your throat grow parched from the fervent chants of devotion, the Cantina offers solace in its crude embrace, a sanctuary that exudes an aura of ancient malevolence amidst its clay and stone walls.

 

Yet, amidst the sinister ambiance, whispers of knowledge beckon, promising insight into the machinations of this unholy realm. Seekers of truth may find guidance from well-intentioned demons or delve into the esoteric depths of the Stacks, where secrets lie entombed within dusty tomes of forgotten lore. As curiosity compels you to explore further, the Bringers, sinister heralds of the impending darkness, stand ready to lead you to your abode, a cold stone sanctuary where dreams are haunted by the specter of impending conflict. And for those who prefer the solace of steel and the embrace of weaponry, the armory awaits, a chamber resonant with the echoes of impending strife, offering a grim reminder that in this realm, even sleep is fraught with the specter of violence.


          2. Good

Venturing through the right-hand tunnel was a pact, a commitment to a harrowing struggle that now unfolds before you. Emerging into the realm beyond, you are met by a spectral figure, a girl whose countenance shifts with each passing moment, a testament to the legion of vampire slayers that populate this accursed domain. She, like her brethren, is both warrior and guide, leading you through the labyrinthine streets with a cryptic explanation that betrays the gravity of the task ahead. Together, you traverse the shadowed avenues, passing landmarks cloaked in enigma, such as The Odeon, a den of debauchery where the echoes of revelry mingle with the cries of the damned. With a sardonic grin, she points towards the gym, a crucible where the art of combat is honed amidst the backdrop of impending doom.


 

As you journey further into the heart of darkness, the Resurrection Cemetery looms ominously, a sepulchral sentinel guarding the threshold of a towering edifice—the colossal teaching hospital that casts a pall of dread over the surrounding streets. Amidst a labyrinth of silence and apprehension, you arrive at your destination, standing before the facade of the Doubletree Hotel, its ostentatious glamour a stark juxtaposition against the encroaching shadows of desolation. Yet, even as the hotel's opulence beckons, a lingering sense of foreboding whispers tales of recent upheaval, hinting at secrets buried beneath layers of opulent facade.


A Grave to Dig – Resurrection Cemetery

Patrol, it's the nightly routine for slayers, a dance with darkness amidst the tombstones, where the soulless minions of evil lurk in the shadows, ever loyal to the malevolent machinations of The First Evil. A cemetery of this magnitude, its layout intricate and labyrinthine, serves as the perfect battleground for the eternal struggle against the forces of darkness. But it is patrol, right? Surely you're not taking a detour to The Odeon without your trusty stake and crossbow. Strange choices in these perilous times, indeed.
 

This graveyard pulses with the heartbeat of vampiric activity tonight, more undead rising from their graves than ever before. Will you recruit them into the fold of darkness, their loyalty pledged to The First? Or will you stand as their nemesis, driving a stake through their unbeating hearts? The choice looms before you, a decision that could tip the scales of this eternal conflict, determining whether you become their savior or their midnight snack.


A Party to Crash – The Odeon


Amidst the haunting melodies of an otherworldly band, The Odeon pulsates with the feverish energy of revelers seeking solace in food, drink, and a hell of a time. At the jumpstart of the bash, there’s no doubt you'll get to soak up some of that vibe. But lurking amidst the revelry, there's more than just party plans brewing.

If you've been getting those Slayer senses tinglin' 'bout the graveyard gig, hold onto your stakes 'cause The Odeon's gonna be jumpin' too. Within the shadowed halls of The Odeon, a palpable tension lingers, as The First Evil's malevolent design looms ominously over the unsuspecting patrons. In this twilight realm where the line between good and evil blurs, the clash between opposing forces is inevitable, and it's here, amidst the haunting melodies and whispered secrets, that the true test of one's training and arcane talents shall unfold.

 

diana_abel: (Default)

Diana Abel | Vampire: The Masquerade

[personal profile] diana_abel 2024-03-09 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
Arrival - Good
[CW: Vampire-related injury, blood, questioning of one's mental state]
And the Malkavian bat, blinder than all the rest, swooped down and managed to miss the entire elephant.  Aha!  said the benighted Malkavian, as it flapped past.  The others are making a huge fuss over an elephant that is really a big lot of nothing!  Well that is what I shall become.

She didn't know why that was the first thought to cross her mind, as she followed the mystery girl.  Especially given the fact that she was pretty sure she was dead.  Dead-dead, anyway.  Still, the old parable actually made her smile a little bit as she sat up on the floor of the unfamiliar room, scabs itching.  The Elephant and the Blind Vampire Bats was a story Diana used to tell the children on the compound.  An easy way to remember the different kinds of Cainites.  The Malkavian verse had always struck her as something of a joke.  The sort that Artemis would play on other Cainites, when she was pretending to be loopier than she was.  Like Hamlet or Odysseus or Snooki.

Well.  The mind coped the way the mind coped.  

She followed silently, her arms and legs sticking to the fabric of her ratty, white dress a little where they were still bloody from all the bite marks pockmarking her alabaster skin.  Every inch of her was covered, except for her face and--ironically enough--her neck. 

...Hell looked a lot like downtown Cleveland at night.  Made sense.  She always hated the Midwest. Brow furrowed, Diana continued down the sidewalk, unconsciously leaving bloody footprints behind her.  The longer she walked, the more she wondered when she would see the fires. Whatever else it was, Hell definitely wasn't living up to her expectations.  Or down to them?

And where the hell did she think she was going?

Wait...was that a hotel?

The Odeon
[CW: Showtunes]
It didn't take any of her supernatural powers to get Diana on the stage.  Just a smile, and a certain need apparent in her lavender eyes, that told the stage manager that music would soothe her soul.  She didn't have her own guitar, so she had to borrow one, but that didn't matter so much.  Diana could make music out of anything.  And the guitar was in good shape, perfectly tuned.  When she started to sing, her voice was like a crystal drop, falling into a pond, sending ripples out into eternity:

And for the boy who's given me the sweetest love I've known
I wish for him another love so he won't be alone
But I am bound to walk among the wounded and the slain
And when the storm comes crashing on the plane
I will dance before the lightning, to music sacred and profane...


She'd actually written the song for Artemis and her somewhat tragic love life.  But really, all three York sisters were pretty unlucky in love, so it could have been about Arty, Selene, or Diana herself.

Tonight, though, it was more about exercising her metaphorical demons than anything else.  She'd been through A Lot.  And she was alive.  And she was whole.  And yes, she was stuck in the God-forsaken Midwest, apparently.  The true tragedy being this was the best off she'd been in a long time.  She just had to find the music again.
Find a way to be herself again.

And if it wasn't music, it was going to be shameless flirting, but she wasn't sure she was ready for that just yet.

Wildcard
[Come at me, friends.  Open to pretty much anything.  Will match prose or action.  And Diana's info is in her journal, if you want it!]
readreceipts: (1x01 - 018)

Maddie Nears | School Spirits | Good

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-09 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
A. Haunted Hotel
A blonde girl, roughly seventeen, is lounging on one of the sofas in the lobby of the Hotel. Her hair seems to be in a perpetual state of static charge going a little bit in every direction. Using her flannel shirt as a makeshift extra pillow. Really it's more a layer of familiarity than anything else.

It was weird, being in a new city. Hell, it was weird being off the grounds of her high school. Last time she wasn't at school she was still alive after all. Humans - and probably the not quite humans given her existence - involved in this good and evil thing could see her, which helped out a bit since she hasn't seen any other ghosts yet. One of the Slayers helped her get moved into her room, a ghost with her own room was a little hilarious. But she stuck it out in the lobby mostly out of boredom.

She'd have to get used to haunting new places, but give her time.
B. It's My Party, I'll Die if I Want To
When she was alive, she didn't go clubbing. She had neither the opportunity in Split River nor the desire. She didn't drink, a fun side-effect of her mother. And she'd much rather curl up in a dark theater watching a classic horror film than she would a loud room of sweaty people throwing their bodies around to bad music.

But this was apparently the place people went here, and she needed friends. Especially living friends if there weren't other ghosts for her to mingle with. Guess ‘I'll only go clubbing over my dead body’ was mostly accurate. She sat in an empty stool near the bar waiting, annoyed, for someone to order something she'd like.

Finally a group of- she guessed track and field guys from a local school, ordered a round of sodas and when the glasses came down on the bar she quickly snatched up a root beer.

Neither bartender nor college athlete noticed her, or the missing drink. Because it was still there. The same drink in her hand was in the hand of the toned guy who probably could jump very well. She finally retreated from the bar over to a corner looking to see if anyone else saw her.

It was as good an ice breaker as any, “Hey, you can see me right?”
C. Wildcard
[So Maddie here doesn't have a body, and as far as ghosts go she doesn't have a lot of special powers. She can't even get into (or out of) locked rooms. She can make ghostly copies of stuff she picks up and most NPCs won't see her, so have fun looking a bit deraged to the locals if you talk to her.

She'll haunt any place she feels she'll find other people to talk to, but don't expect her to be very socially graceful. She's a bit of a mess. Tell me if you care about spoilers for the end of S1 of
School Spirits because she is from the end of the season and it's a murder mystery. So she knows things she's got thoughts on. Even if she might not share them outright.]
burnyoudown: (033)

Joseph Kavinsky | The Raven Cycle | OTA

[personal profile] burnyoudown 2024-03-09 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ooc: I'll match format- prose, brackets, whichever! <3]

i. A Choice to Make - Good - cw: vague mention of drugs

Kavinsky was angry. It snarled up inside of him, hot and choking--but he was hurting, too. The feelings went hand-in-hand, had been a near constant in his life for hours, days, weeks. With great reluctance, he pulled his white-framed sunglasses off, folding them and hooking them on the front of his shirt. He should have been dead, he knew that, and yet he didn't feel dead. He wasn't entirely sure he wasn't still dreaming either, though. Compared to everything else he'd dreamt over the span of his life, this wasn't even remotely close to the weirdest thing. Even the voices weren't too far-fetched, no matter how irritating and alluring he found them, in equal turns.

He didn't need power--he already had that--but he didn't feel particularly inclined to pursue justice, either. But between the two, he thought it was easy enough to figure out which one was the lesser of the two evils, as it were. So, he squinted against the ethereal glow and walked towards it.

He was a split second away from asking aloud if the whispers ever planned on shutting the fuck up when he emerged from the tunnel into whatever was on the other side, and saw the girl. He stared at her for a long moment, studying the way her face kept changing. It was too much like the kind of shit he'd dream while fucked up that he couldn't flinch from it, no matter how disconcerting it was. Instead, he followed her. Maybe he was dead after all, and this was some sort of afterlife. Maybe she was an angel or something.

Craning his neck a bit when they passed The Odeon, Kavinsky considered the exterior of the building and the noise from within--and made a mental note to check it out later, when he didn't feel like he was on a tour. It seemed like it might be his kind of place.

When the girl pointed to the gym, he arched an eyebrow, looking at it and then her before barking a laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen," he said.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed through the rest of his current adventure, stopping in front of the hotel. He'd seen worse places, that was for sure--this would be good enough, he guessed, assuming he was supposed to stay here. He couldn't be homesick if he'd never had somewhere that felt like home, after all. The only problem was-

"I absolutely do not want to fucking be alone with myself." It was more of a mutter, directed at himself, but he also didn't care--or even know--if there was anyone else close enough to hear. He didn't want to lock himself in a hotel room right now, or lie down to sleep when he hardly knew what sort of nightmares he might wake with.

ii. Drinking Away Our Sorrows - cw: underage drinking

The Odeon wasn't quite what Kavinsky had hoped it would be, not as wild, but it was also better than any of the dumps that were in Henrietta, so it was still a plus. Besides, it'd been easy to dream a fake ID--IDs weren't a challenge; he'd forged them a hundred times--and he was well on his way to getting drunk. It probably wasn't too much better of a choice compared to being alone with his dreams, in his head, but he could at least delay the inevitable. Maybe if he delayed sleep long enough, got far enough out of his head, he'd be able to keep the nightmares at bay.

Knocking back another shot, he eyed the basket of fries next to him, where he sat at the bar, and considered them. He wasn't exactly hungry, and he knew that without eating anything, he was playing a dangerous game when it came to drinking, but it didn't deter him. After he'd gotten the bartender's attention for another drink, he picked up a single fry and took a bite. Despite the fact it was lukewarm, it was better than he'd expected--or maybe he was actually hungrier than he'd realized--and he finished it in another bite.

He shifted slightly when someone approached, either to sit nearby or just order a drink, watching them out of the corner of his eye before turning to look at them properly. "Hey, completely random question, for curiosity's sake, but--do you think there's a street racing scene in this city? Bonus points if you actually know, and even more points if that answer's yes," he said.

He figured, if he was going to be here for however long, he might as well start scoping shit out, see if there was anything to look forward to or if he was going to have to scrape together a race scene all on his own.

iii. A Little Game - The Odeon - cw: underage drunkenness

While not as spectacularly drunk as he had been at various times in the past, Kavinsky was probably definitely drunk enough that he should've climbed into an Uber or something and gone back to the hotel--but he felt more relaxed right now than he had all day. Physically, relaxed, at least, though his thoughts were still scattered, obsessing over things that had happened hours or days earlier in the back of his mind. He was doing his best to ignore those thoughts, to distract himself- which was why he invited himself to sit at a stranger's table, no matter who they were.

"Hey," he said amiably, dark eyes bright, even with the dark circles under them, standing out against his pale skin. "So, considering that this place is fucking boring compared to the parties I throw back home, what do you say we spice shit up with a little truth or dare?"
wereperrito: (thinking)

Jack Russell | Werewolf By Night | Good

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-09 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
I. Hotel

"That does not seem like a pleasant place to stay," Jack comments, mostly to himself, as he stares up at the hotel uncertainly. Yes, okay, it looks nice he supposes, but it smells funny, and he's not a fan of hotels in general. He's stayed in a lot of them, and they're all so... same-y.

But this is apparently what he's got for now. Which is discouraging. Surely Ted will find him before too long, at least.


II. Graveyard

So there's a pact now. He's apparently gotten himself signed up to protect a place. Well, that's... new, he supposes. He doesn't know how he got into this mess, exactly, but this is what he's stuck with until Ted finds him. If prowling a graveyard after dark is part of the job, he guesses he'd better do it.

He has no stake. He has no weapons at all. Jack is not a fighter-- not in this form, anyway. And as it's nowhere near the full moon yet, this form is all he's got. So he's kind of hoping whatever is out there will listen to reason if it tries to attack him. Or that he's fast enough to dodge and bolt if it isn't.

He does have a very sensitive nose, though, and he's following that in search of-- whatever is here, really. He could really use some protection if anyone is feeling generous, as he has no idea what he's getting into here.


III. Odeon

One of the places his nose leads him to eventually is the nightclub. Jack is not really a fan of nightclubs. He rather prefers the cemetery with its clean grass and dry stone. But he ducks instead to investigate, anyway, edging around the dance floor and squinting through the dark, looking for a familiar face, or maybe signs of trouble.

It's crowded enough that it's unfortunately easy to bump into people. "Oh-- I am sorry," he says quickly, holding up both hands apologetically. "It's very crowded in here, no?"
exponentias: (015)

tara maclay | buffy the vampire slayer

[personal profile] exponentias 2024-03-09 08:01 am (UTC)(link)
i. doubletree hotel


If asked, Tara's not sure she could begin to describe what happened.

She had returned to the earth; her spirit had returned to the flow of magic in flora and fauna and fire. A witch of the earth, her very being had become one with magic. She had been everywhere, and nowhere. She had been a flock of birds in the sky, and the trembling hooves of a newborn deer, and the tender sapling of a oak tree. There had been a contentedness, a sense of completeness, in whatever remnants of her soul had clung to the energy she had dispersed into.

And then all of a sudden, she can see. Tara has legs again, and she's standing on cold stone, and her eyes are tearing up as she's squinting and struggling to adjust. She has hands that she lifts to her face, shaking, trying to block out the feeble light in the cavern she finds herself in. Her chest heaves as she has to breathe again, struggling to remember how.

The next few minutes pass in a daze. Without thinking, she chooses the path of good, and she winds up in front of a hotel, foreboding and desolate. The carpet of the lobby is more forgiving against her bare feet, but everything feels overwhelming. Bright. Hard. Her body feels clumsy, and alien.

Dimly, she realizes she's in a simple white dress, and she knows that she must have been buried in it.

When someone approaches, Tara can barely hear what they're saying. Everything sounds grating and hostile to her eardrums. "Where--" she starts, the word little more than air, and tries again, "where... is this?"


ii. the odeon


All Tara can do is wander, lost.

The sound of distant music pulls her in. Fond memories tug at the back of her mind, and that's when Tara starts to remember. She was a person, once. She had a life. And she doesn't remember most of it right now, but bits and pieces are flocking back to her like wounded birds, limping into her awareness.

She remembers another club like this. Small. Usually packed. Live music. She remembers the lights shining off red hair, and restrained slayer strength in fingers that curl around a glass, and a crooked smile under dark hair, and--

Goddess. It's so overwhelming.

Tara can't bring herself to go inside. Inside promises too much sensation. Loud music. Bodies everywhere. Smoke. The thought of it is... more than she can bare right now.

Instead, Tara huddles outside, arms tucked tight around her chest, hair in her face, cold against the chill of the night but this glimpse of humanity is something she finds herself wanting to cling to even as it pains her. The back door slams open, and Tara cringes away from the light and noise that spills out. "S-sorry," she stutters out, taking a step back so she's not in their way, unaware that there's fire crackling between her fingers.


iii. wildcard


[ 🫡 what is up my dudes. tara is taken from after her death, with the assumption that she didn't go to an afterlife like heaven, but rather became one with the flow of magic in an earth witch version of what happens after death. she's going to be discombobulated for a long while, not super talkative, and trying to get her bearings. i'm open for wildcard prompts! ]
Edited 2024-03-09 09:32 (UTC)
hopethatremains: (032 - Cutscene)

Sophia 1.37 | Persona 5 Strikers | Good

[personal profile] hopethatremains 2024-03-09 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
A. Protocol: Shopping
Someone kindly lent her some human clothing when she arrived. It was very nice, even if the floral print sundress was a very odd thing. It didn't move right compared to her standard costume. But it allowed her to move around town with little staring from the locals.

A Phantom Thief needs to blend in.

She was also provided with some funding and after a lengthy search online she had a list of attire that was normal for humans to wear. The web search felt like it took forever, being on this side of her phone was very tedious.

And she felt, based on what she understood, that this process was meant to be done with a small team and not on her own. But she was alone. She would have to make do.

She was studying various garments, she had done her research before to know how they were worn but fashion was not something she was accurately programmed for, so she did not know if these clothes were good. “Do you think this is me?”

She found some clothes in her size, but the colors were all wildly different and several would not look good with her bright red hair. And the patterns might not work with the floating red hearts that gave a silhouette of ‘pigtails’ floating behind her. She was either a very short teenager, or a very toned child, and her eyes were clearly not human.

…Although the floating hearts probably also were not a very human element.
B. Protocol: Training
Sophie had put on her combat attire again, while at the gym. A strange looking mix of bike shorts, thigh length socks, and a white parka. Any attempt to look human were gone because not only did her hearts float in the pattern of a ‘ponytail’ behind her hood. But her mask was on, turning her face into an inky black void with bright blue emoticon eyes. Not emojis, classic 90s large zeroes for eyes.

Sophie was doing a sequence of coordinated flips, tumbles, leaps and handsprings to make certain her combat abilities carried over into this new human reality she found herself. She really wanted to share her feelings. Yes, feelings, about this with her friends. And that caused more feelings because she couldn't. It was very exciting, but also sad.

Still, she could prioritize those feelings later once she was no longer doing a handstand on top of the support beam for a heavy bag.
C. Protocol: Questioning
Being corporeal was something she was still getting used to, it had two key disadvantages. Operation of electronics took more time from the outside. She did not have ready access to all the information she would like to have.

And without the other Phantom Thieves, her options for answers was limited. Still, there was a hotel full of people from other worlds, so it seemed obvious enough how to resolve this, “Hello. Do you know anything about cognitive psience or quantum reality theory?”

She's asking these questions like they were very normal things to ask someone before their name. Then again, her pigtail floating hearts, and the strange rings in her eyes, were pretty clear signs ‘normal’ did not apply to her.
D. Protocol: Wildcard
[This is Sophia, she's from a point in Persona 5 Strikers where she had a physical body so she's not inside a phone as that would complicate her in game. She is, in no way, attempting to pass as human and please make her try.

She'll be bad at it but she means well. She'll mostly be staying in places reasonable for a teenager to be found but she will go out on patrols, hit her up with any place it would be reasonable for an AI in a physical body to show up. She's got a ‘can do’ attitude and a lot of desire to help.

Oh, she has a physical body but it won't read as human on
any level, it will read as having a soul if you can sense those so have fun with that.]
readreceipts: (1x03 - 013)

The Odeon

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-09 12:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Maddie made an effort, but there's too much going on in a place like that for a ghost girl to really draw attention to herself. Not- you know, when anyone not involved in this whole good and evil thing can't see her. So after the forth drunk person stumbled through her she called it quits.

Maybe haunting the gym tomorrow will net better results.

She hit the Cleveland street, bundled up in a man's coat she snatched on the way to the door. It was available and being a ghost didn't immune her from cold. On top of the many, many, serious problems with her 'life' (as it were), the fact that she could get cold was insulting. She almost started back to the hotel when she noticed the woman. She looked... well, honestly bad. Like- there was freaked out and then there was- that. It wasn't her problem, she should go home. She didn't have to butt in.

...but maybe she could help. Maddie scrunched her eyes closed a moment, then walked over to the woman. "Hey, you alright?" The concern in Maddie's voice was genuine, and her attention mostly on the shellshocked stranger. Save Maddie's hasty sidestep of a trio of drunk guys who clearly did not see her. Let's not focus on that right now, if at all possible.
hopethatremains: (019 - Cutscene)

Hotel

[personal profile] hopethatremains 2024-03-09 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
A girl, small and generally harmless looking was near enough to hear. She didn't mean to eavesdrop but here they were. She tilted her head at the comment, "What is unsatisfactory about the accommodations?"

There wasn't any snark or attitude, the question was clean and clear and simply curious. Likely due to the fact she did not know what made a hotel a 'good place' to stay. She'd read hundreds of hotel reviews, but as she'd never stayed in one she lacked accurate data as to what that's like.

Of course, probably more concerning about her is she doesn't smell in any way human. Her scent lacked anything like human odors and was just the slight scent of ozone you might get from electricity. She didn't look particularly human either. Between the hearts that floated near her head (making the shape of pigtails) and the rings in her eyes.
wereperrito: (lookup)

Re: Hotel

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-09 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Jack has seen, and smelled, some pretty odd people in his time. His best friend looks kind of like a walking tree. The floating heart braids are new, though.

"I don't know," he answers her with a helpless little shrug. "It's just a feeling, you know?" He can't very well just say it smells funny.

Or that she smells funny. She smells kind of like some kind of fancy hologram, really. He smelled one of those at the Stark Expo once. Still, that's not something you say out loud to a person who seems perfectly reasonable and person-like.
wereperrito: (smilesmall)

Haunted Hotel, totally cool with spoilers!

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-09 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Jack can see her. He can smell her, too, in that odd off way that ghosts have a scent. As he reluctantly comes inside to look around and maybe get a room, he pauses to give her a little wave.

"Hello," he adds to the wave. He'd always rather be friendly than not, and putting off dealing with the hotel is an attractive choice. Besides, he's interacted with ghosts before. They always seem like they could use a little more attention than they got.
hopethatremains: (009 - Cutscene)

[personal profile] hopethatremains 2024-03-09 08:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"A feeling..." she trails a little as she tries to work her mind around the concept. Considering it's meaning. The Phantom Thieves each had such 'feelings' that they couldn't name but were very certain of. And usually those feelings proved correct, unless they belonged to Yusuke. But Morgana didn't really give her a good explanation to how 'intuition' worked.

"I do not know any reviews of this place," being stuck in this form meant she was not online. It felt like she lost something, not having this connection to the world. "So I don't know if your feeling is correct, but I do not like not knowing."
readreceipts: (1x04 - 006)

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-09 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a small second of wide-eyed staring as she's greeted by someone. Before she remembers all the rules here are different from home. She's gotten very used to being only seen by the other ghosts, and her friend Simon. Even though she was lead here by someone who saw her, being perceived is still a very new change. "Hi."

"Sorry, not used to people talking to me." Maddie sighed and swung to sitting up on the sofa rather than just taking up the whole thing. She'd been mostly ignored when she was alive, so being dead - or whatever she was now, didn't feel like much of a change except for the people that she wanted to see her.

And none of them were here.

"Weird glowy portal and then a cave?" She wanted to be sure they all had the same general trip here, just to know what the hell she was in for now.
theconsequences: (🎸 the violence in the pouring rain)

mack stuart | oc

[personal profile] theconsequences 2024-03-10 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
the good choice...
1. Resurrection Cemetary


Something is slinking around the gravestones, and it isn't a demon.

The damp grass gives way enough to betray the presence of something with paws, and small rocks and bits of half-rotted leaves tracked across the ground in telling trials. It's not uncommon for creatures of all persuasions to wander around the graveyard at night: stray cats, squirrels, the occasional spaced-out labradoodle. And, of course, coyotes. Granted, not many like this one.

Mack is skulking around with a bit too much confidence. In coyote form, she can smell better, hear better, and, perhaps most usefully, see better. Until tonight, she had spent plenty of time honing her human-form fighting skills, but nightfall had brought along with it a stoke of genuis. Why fight vampires as a human when she could use her significantly more agile and far-better-sighted coyote talents to take down all these pesky vampires, etc?

The snap of twigs alerts Mack to someone else in the graveyard and she quickly crouches behind a gravestone where she had stashed her bag with her back-up clothes and her wooden stakes. She tried to pace her breathing, willing her heart rate to stay near some semblance of normal. This was going to be her moment. She would wait for the vampire to pass by as she lay in wait, and then she would jump over the gravestone and--

Oh. She glances at one of the wooden stakes peeking out of her bag, and then down at her thumb-less paws. Right. That's why coyotes aren't vampire slayers.

the bad choice...
2. The Cantina


Dominion and power sure sounded great, but it really needed air conditioning. And maybe a new interior designer.

Truth be told, Mack is already bored. It turns out that being evil involved a lot more reading and a lot less, well, sitting on thrones and eating grapes or whatever she thought power actually would give her. She's started spending way too much time at the Cantina, settling for whatever shitty liquor or warm beer they have in stock given blood isn't exactly her vibe. And she doesn't plan for it to be anytime soon; she's definitely not interested in becoming a vampire, not when she's finally reached the age where her skin is clearing up.

She pulls herself up into one of the bar seats with some amount of embarrassing difficulty. "Tequila, please please please," she whines. "It's already 1pm and if I've gotta be sober any longer I'm gonna start taking hostages." Whether that is much of a threat coming from a 5 foot 2 pink-haired nightmare is anyone's guess.

the dealer's choice...
3. Wildcard


[Mack is 25 years old, foul-mouthed, and has a little bit of a drinking problem. For anyone familiar, she is coming from the game Altered States, which was a spiritual spin-off of Beyond the Rift. She spent 3 years in New York City and can shape-shift into a coyote and a roadrunner. It's a joke because she grew up in New Mexico.

She'll have generalized memories of her previous in-game life but I won't be bringing any assumed CR. Feel free to throw whatever you would like at her!]
wereperrito: (poke)

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-10 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
"You too?" Jack asks, a little surprised. It was enough that he had been weirdly magically kidnapped, but other people, too? He drifts over her direction. "Then a strange woman saying you have to protect this city?" he adds, gesturing back the way he'd come. And her as well, apparently.
wereperrito: (Default)

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-10 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
"I do not like not knowing, either," Jack agrees. "It may just be that I do not like hotels. But since I have not been gifted with a small house or apartment, and I do not think the local police will accept me sleeping in the park, this may be the only choice." He sighs up at the building's facade unhappily.

Then, to her, he adds, "My name is Jack, my the way."
readreceipts: (1x01 - 007)

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-10 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
Maddie nodded, she got the same walking tour of Cleveland and a little bit set-up here. "Not really what I expected when I went into the light."

She knew now, it wasn't that light. But at the time she was very confused with being pulled out of her several problems already in motion.

"Not entirely sure how I can help protect anything." Maddie was sitting on the sofa, it gave way under her like she was really there. But she wasn't, not in the physical 'I can save the world' sense. "I'm Maddie. I'd shake your hand but that's not really a thing I do anymore."
hopethatremains: (025 - Cutscene)

[personal profile] hopethatremains 2024-03-10 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
"I will gain valuable data being inside a hotel in this form, last time I could only see it from inside a phone." There was the tiniest hint of excitement at the chance to try something new. A lot of the activities of the Phantom Thieves seemed 'fun' but she could only enjoy vicariously questioning Ren after the fact.

"Jack. I'll remember that." It takes a few moments for her to put together what her part of this is, largely due to inexperience. She had to introduce herself exactly twice. "I am Sophia, Humanity's Companion."
exponentias: (003)

[personal profile] exponentias 2024-03-10 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Tara almost doesn't hear her -- she's just one voice among many, conversations and music and laughter overlapping from where the sound is spilling out of the club. The trio of drunk guys don't notice her, staggering away, and only then does Tara notice, through the tangle of hair over her eyes where she's ducking her head, that someone's in front of her.

The fire flickering at her fingers flares with her surprise, and Tara can't quite muffle her gasp as it burns her, and then snuffs out. She cradles her singed fingertips, and does her best to come up with an answer. Even something as simple as thinking feels like wading through a thick bog.

"I don't know," she manages, lost. Finally, she looks up, and her gaze immediately goes from the stranger to the air beside her, because--

Tara's always had a talent for seeing auras, and this girl's is... faded. Not quite there. She's a spirit.

Despite everything, Tara's expression creases in sympathy. Is this ghost stuck here? Has someone pulled her to this plane for some reason? So many questions she wants to ask, and yet she can't manage to say them. Instead, all she comes up with is: "Are you... alright?"
ineverygeneration: (Default)

Buffy Summers | Buffyverse

[personal profile] ineverygeneration 2024-03-10 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Fire Bad, Doubletree Pretty

In the dimly lit lobby of an unfamiliar hotel, Buffy Summers found herself grappling with a perplexing predicament. A Slayer accustomed to battling the forces of darkness, she now faced the enigma of time and space, thrust into an unforeseen future by the capricious whims of interdimensional portals. Clutching a snack pack of potato chips, she listened intently as one of her fellow Slayers, with painstaking patience, elucidated the concept of 'noshing' and its imperative in sustaining her formidable strength.

With a bemused furrow of her brow, Buffy pondered the surreal circumstances that had led her here. "Apparently, this is the future," she remarked wryly, her voice tinged with incredulity. "Hey, portals are wonky," she added with a shrug, as if that were a satisfactory explanation for her displacement from the familiarity of her own living room to the plush confines of the hotel lobby.

“Didn’t they always give out chocolate chip cookies at these places? I feel cheated,” Buffy grumbled, the corners of her mouth downturned in mild disappointment. Her gaze swept across the opulent surroundings, momentarily distracted from the weight of her responsibilities as the Chosen One. The memory of her encounters with the First, a formidable and elusive adversary, lingered in her mind, a sobering reminder of the relentless struggle against the forces of darkness.

"Do these people know what they’re in for?" Buffy muttered to herself, a flicker of concern betraying her stoic facade. With a resolute tilt of her chin, she steeled herself for the battles that lay ahead, determined to confront whatever malevolent entities dared to threaten the fragile peace of this unfamiliar world.


Your Grave I Do Deeply Dig

"Every." Buffy's fist collided with the newly risen vampire's face, the impact resounding through the night air. "Cemetery." Another blow, this time to the creature's gut, causing it to double over in pain. "Looks the same." With a swift motion, she thrust the stake into the vampire's heart, her resolve unyielding as she dispatched yet another denizen of the night. With a final expletive-laden curse, the once immortal foe crumbled to dust at her feet, a testament to her prowess as the Slayer.

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust, a sneeze escaping her as she recoiled from the cloud of vampiric ash. "Dear GOD, did I just get vamp up my nose??" She stuck out her tongue in revulsion, emitting a sound of pure disgust. Shaking her head to rid herself of the lingering sensation, she paused momentarily, her senses attuned to the faint sounds of struggle echoing through the cemetery.

“Hey!” With a swift motion, Buffy tossed one of her stakes to the person being attacked, her eyes ablaze with determination. She lunged forward, seizing the vampire by her hair and wrenching her away from her intended victim. "Nobody is getting killed on my watch," she declared, her voice firm and unwavering as she stood as the stalwart guardian of the night.


Crash Into Me My Party

If The Odeon were a purse, it would be found sold on a table set up on a sidewalk in some big city with an insignia that read “Prado” instead of “Prada.” Oh, yes, it’s a knockoff, but Clevelanders probably have no idea what they’re missing out on. At least, that’s what Buffy assumes.

Right now, she'd rather be twirling on the dance floor with some wholesome Midwestern beau, but her Slayer senses are on high alert. Seated at a table strategically positioned for optimum surveillance of the club, Buffy's either awaiting the arrival of someone who can inject a bit more excitement into her night or bracing herself for the inevitable chaos that always seems to find her.
readreceipts: (1x01 - 020)

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-11 08:03 am (UTC)(link)
"I didn't just burn myself with magic. That was magic right?" Maddie isn't fine but she hardly wants to talk about that right now. Also, order of priority, the fire thing was more important.

"We should probably get off this street," For a number of fire related, people related reasons. At the bare minimum all this seemed a lot for the woman, but on top of that Maddie is well aware what talking to her looks like. "You'll draw a lot of attention if you're conjuring fire and talking to people nobody can see."

Which is as close to admitting to what she is as she's willing to do right at this moment.
readreceipts: (1x03 - 017)

Fire Bad, Doubletree Pretty

[personal profile] readreceipts 2024-03-11 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
Maddie hadn't gotten to quite the level of lawless the other Afterlife Society members had gotten to. Being a ghost only for a few weeks meant she behaved almost human where the others did basically anything knowing the mortal world wasn't going to react.

Which was for the best now that the living could see her, or at least some of them. That'll take some getting used to (again). Still, she was already used to taking however much food she wanted knowing she'd never take the last of anything. (Ghosts truly got to have their cake and eat it too.) So she had way more snacks than any one person could get away with.

Overhearing that last question Maddie paused, there was a level of certainty that said this woman did have an idea of what we were in for. Which got Maddie's attention, "You could share with the class. Since you seem to know."
wereperrito: (smilesmall)

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-11 09:09 am (UTC)(link)
"Me, neither. I don't really... fight, you know?" He comes to sit on the chair kitty-corner to the sofa. "If the forces of evil are amenable to a friendly chat, maybe I could be helpful."

He smiles at her not-offer of a handshake, and instead inclines his head and shoulders in a little half-bow of greeting. "I'm Jack."
wereperrito: (peer)

[personal profile] wereperrito 2024-03-11 09:13 am (UTC)(link)
Huh. Maybe she really is some kind of hologram. Or maybe a kind of technological ghost?

"What does that mean, exactly?" he has to ask, trying to do so politely. "Humanity's Companion. I have never heard anyone call themselves that before."
hopethatremains: (Default)

[personal profile] hopethatremains 2024-03-11 09:36 am (UTC)(link)
"For me, it means helping to protect humanity from what seeks to destroy and devalue it. And individually help people find their way when they are lost, or alone." As much as her primary directive was foisted upon her, it's definition had changed since she woke up. This directive, this version of it, was what her heart believed in.

"I suppose most humans would not consider themselves outside humanity, but for an artificial intelligence it makes perfect sense." And there it was, just saying she's not remotely human at all. She seems to be very pleased with all that's going on, all the details and information she has. "Fortunately I am capable of existing in this world, and I seem to have 80% of my combat abilities intact. Since 'protecting humanity' here involves fighting monsters. How exiting!"
diana_abel: (Skeptical)

Crash!

[personal profile] diana_abel 2024-03-11 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Buffy wasn't the only one who would rather have been dancing. The fact was, Diana absolutely loved dancing. It just wasn't feasible right now, seeing as every single part of her body below the collarbone was a constellation map of bitemarks. She'd taken a lot of pains (kinda literally) to cover them with long sleeves, a broomstick skirt, and various scarves. Tragically, she was beginning to think it hadn't really been worth the effort. For one thing, moving too much still hurt. For another, there was nothing she could do about the bites on the backs of her hands.

A part of her regretted coming to the club. Another part of her--the more Diana-esque part, her sisters would probably say--had realized that the last thing she ought to be doing right now was sitting along, sulking, feeling sorry for herself and what had happened to her. She was alive. Somehow. Miraculously. She needed to act like it.

Nothing made her feel more alive than music.

So, yes. Coming here had been the right move. Nevertheless, it was probably time to go.

Diana was making her way to the door (past the adorable blond girl) when she nearly tripped on one of the laces of her boot. With a sigh, she leaned over to start retying it, lifting the edge of her skirt up just enough to show some scandalous calf. A calf that looked like it had been turned into a dog's chewtoy.

Page 1 of 11