dualislogs | i've been bitten by the bug ...

i've been bitten by the bug ...

WHO: Open to all residents
WHAT: Inoculation Season, plus your regular monthly NAPs session
WHERE: Throughout the city, with NAPs held at The Ax Hole.
WHEN: Sept. 10-30 for plague shots and associated side effects; Sept. 10-14 for NAPs
WARNINGS: Please use if applicable!

So tell me, what do you prescribe for these symptoms?

Remember that awful plague that wiped out the city's entire original population? You know, the entire reason you've been brought here? Well, the medical science community of Dualis has been hard at work concocting a cure for as long as anyone can remember, with minimal results. But during the morning of the 10th, news of a breakthrough is announced is a special city-wide bulletin. All media channels are overtaken with this message, and alerts hit every citizen's phone. The best part? Science needs your help!

There's no formal approval process for new vaccines and medications, just a series of volunteer trials before it's determined whether what's being tested is effective. All residents are invited to participate in these trials, with a bonus of 200 extra duos as compensation for their time and possible suffering. Simply head down to your nearest MedDualis clinic and inform the MedDroids supervising that you're reporting for your civic duty. Participants will be given a quick, easy, and practically painless inoculation shot in the arm, and will walk out the door 200 duos richer. Neat, huh?

Participants will be warned that like all experimental drugs, there may be side effects. A non-comprehensive list of those possible side effects includes: minor appearance changes (hair/skin/eye color), enhancing or reducing senses (smell, taste, hearing, sight, etc.), sudden mild development of extranormal abilities (telepathy, super strength, super speed, etc.), the ability to share dreams (if you're not tired of that sorta thing after last month), and/or loss of control over abilities you already possess, or those abilities misfiring. Hey, at least death isn't included on this list!

Any intrepid Dualizen who comes down with a case of weirdness as a result of doing their civic duty will find that weirdness will wear off by the end of the month. The Head thanks you for your sacrifice!

Don't you feel the fever like I do?

Look at all of these bright, shining new faces! There’s even a few less bright, less shining faces - maybe even a few folks without faces - but hey, this city welcomes all types. Chances are, if you’ve just arrived, you're seeing some pretty crazy things, unless you're used to an eye-blinding amount of neon, robots, weird-ass technology, magic, and an omnipresent police force...and hey, if you are, congrats, you're gonna settle in juuuuust fine. But for the rest of you, the Head knows this has gotta be pretty overwhelming, right?

Well, since your quaint individual processing units are probably having a hard time, why not link up with another one? By which the Head means...

Hello, new citizens of Dualis,
and welcome to your monthly Network Adjacency Protocol~!

NAPs are a monthly community networking event similar to the Earth concept of speed dating! Two citizens (new arrivals and old hands alike) are placed at a table together with a handy cue card of queries to help break the proverbial ice. Ask queries and receive results, or ignore the card and yeet yourself straight into a brand new friendship! But don't be too shy, you've only got ten minutes together, and if you just sit in silence for the whole ten, the Network Admins are likely to come supervise and try to repair the uplink through a mild shock to the ol' central nervous system. You might find yourself saying all sorts of unintended facts about yourself if that happens...probably better to just make friends, right? Who doesn’t like friends?!

This month’s event is held at an exciting new establishment called The Ax Hole! The 'Hole is an indoor ax-throwing range plus bar plus mid-price grill-type restaurant, the first of its kind to find a home here in Dualis. You must be at least 18 to drink and/or throw axes, and if you are throwing axes, there is a limit of one drink per hour. The bartenders are very strict about enforcing this rule, and employees are available to give safety instructions on proper ax-throwing technique and supervise activities.

This is a family-friendly establishment, so anyone under 18 is welcome in the restaurant section and the viewing room between the restaurant and range to watch the ax-throwing action, but they are absolutely not allowed inside the range, even just to watch. In fact, anyone who wishes admittance to the range must sign a waiver stating that they understand the risks of participating and agree to hold the Ax Hole free of liability in the event of any accidents that cause injury or death.

If that hasn't scared you off yet, come on down and meet your new neighbors! Oh, and do try to exit with at least as many fingers and limbs as when you entered, OK?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Arkady was used to weird looks and strange murmurings. Back in Whitechapel she got them a lot, especially the last few times she had been to the market. It wasn't like she really tried to make herself less outwardly odd. One could even say she leaned in the opposite direction with her bald hair, purple eyes, and see through skirt. This place was different though, it was weird like her. There was something else in it too. A thing she hadn't placed yet but it was there pinching in the back of her mind. Or at least she thought it was there. Maybe it wasn't there.

She'd have to think on that more. Not now though. Now was this and nows were important to keep track of. Besides this speed meeting thing sounded fun! Friends were good and (not that she would admit it) she was kinda lonely. There was never a time where the FreakAngels weren't together or connected. Very little frightened her, but deep down not having them was sad.

So she came and if someone was paying attention they might notice that sometimes she was one place and then suddenly another. Teleportation was one of the better things she'd taught herself. Eventually she gave the ax throwing a try. She had a childlike excitement about the simple act of throwing an ax. Despite her frail frame she threw it perfectly with what might be a surprising amount of force. Spoiler: she cheated with telekinesis. Then she clapped for herself. She wished the others were here to do this with her.

When she sat down for the questions she threw out the questions they were given.

"What's the best thing about your world?" Anyone sat down with her would get that question paired with an eager looking expression. It was best to start out new friendships with something positive, right?

[ ooc: do whatever! run into her doing ax things, teleporting, or trying to get everyone to spread the wonders of ~~fake~~ positive thinking. ]

OTA

Hank shows up a little more willingly this time, because he's curious mostly. What sort of establishment is an ax throwing place? Well... besides the fucking obvious that it's somewhere where people throw axes. This like, where lumberjacks find dates or something? Some Last of the Mohicans wannabe white boys wander in and show their chops?

He's glad his mind is emptier now, less full of memories that aren't his, but now that gap in thought is replaced by utter confusion as he drinks his beer and watches people chuck big heavy blades rather than pay all that much attention to the cards or inquiries.

"Just waiting for some lovechild of Paul Bunyan and William Tell to fuckin' plant their ax in a drunk volunteer's forehead." Thank god for Dualis healthcare.

He checks his phone to make sure he has some medical people on speed-dial. Seems like a good idea at the moment.

Closed to Connor

Hank takes a break between conversations to go see Connor, because sometimes you get tired of people you don't know. His lack of socialization for three fuckin' years had withered his tolerance. Figures. Social butterfly is back to being a scrubby grub.

But he's happy to take his beer over to watch Connor, taking a swig and eyeing him.

"Show me what you got." He nods to the ax, unknowingly sealing a future fate for himself he doesn't really want. But, come on, Connor puts on a good show when he wants to. He likes seeing this twink surprise people.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're underage." He scoffs. To the man that can't drink, only lick.

Closed to MandM

Since Connor told him about the memory of the old disease, that plague, he has been thinking that, maybe, they might not have the right type of research going on into it yet. He's got a lot of things to consider about it, and you know what? He knows about fuck all and next to nothing about antivirus research.

But Morbius? The fuckin' Nine Inch Nails semi-fake-out-vampire blood doctor? Probably does. And if they're working on vaccines at the moment it seems like a great time to discuss this shit with him.

Eventually, he finds his way over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

NAPS

Naminé was naturally curious and she wanted to get to know the people that she would be living with for the next year or so. She was a little uncertain but she rarely let that anxiousness get in the way of her determination. She participated in the event itself, meeting and speaking to new people, but she could answer very few questions and ended up being the recipient of mild electric shocks whenever she paused too long.

When that became too much she could be found hoovering around the viewing area of the ax throwing competition. She'd seen a lot of combat during her short life but she'd never seen anything quite like this.

"What is the point of the game?" She asked, not knowing if anyone was there to answer her innocent and odd questions.

INJECTION
[ooc/content warning: feel free to run into her right after the shot or after the affects kick in. she does cut her hand so cw for light blood and sickness just so people know.]

Naminé jumped at the chance to help. It's all she's wanted to do and she didn't really think about the consequences even as the possible side effects were rattled off to her.

She should have been warned or watch.

The injection didn't hurt but over the next few days Naminé began to feel off. It was worse on the 20th. She'd been walking through the park to the cafe where she'd gotten a part time job when she suddenly felt her vision uncomfortably blur. Her steps came to a staggering halt and she leaned against a tree in order to regain her sight but it didn't come. Everything was blurry and her palm...

Naminé turned and started at her fuzzy hand. She couldn't feel it.

"What's happening?" She wasn't asking anyone specifically but the question had risen to mind and then artfully escaped from her lips.

She slipped, a thin cut digging into her palm but again the pain was dulled and Naminé could only stare at the blurry scarlet hue in her palm.

Connor's already decided this isn't a hobby he can see himself taking up. The targets aren't moving, they're already pretty close, and once you've figured out the physics behind throwing an object that's very heavy on one end so that only the heavy bit hits the target at a specific angle... Well, for an android it's a one time amusement. He's enjoying watching organics doing it, though - they have a lot more to contend with. It's a much harder task and they're often picking it up faster than he did. Then it's about contending with an imperfect eye and less stable muscles to aim properly.

It looks more satisfying that way.

He's testing the weight of another axe when Hank approaches, although Hank will probably recognise the motions he's going through: he's tossing it in the air and catching it, swinging it between two fingers, almost lazily letting it fly out of one hand into the other. He's basically doing his coin tricks with it.

"You're the one who already took me to a bar," he retorts easily, before hefting the axe up into a better throwing position and approaching the nearest target.

"Did you try this yet?" he asks over his shoulder right before he throws one-handed - the axe flies into the target and embeds itself in the centre, but Connor's already turning to Hank.

Around/ the dorms

The Head has a startling amount of resources...that much is clear. He's seen what an organization can and will do when they have enough funds to pour into experiments and confidential projects. That's why he's not wholly surprised to find that he is no longer among the dead. Cerberus brought Shepard back with even less to work with, so how hard would it be to rebuild a terminally ill drell with a deep stab wound? AI or organic, no one should have this kind of power at their disposal. He can sympathize with the plight of one's planet being ravaged to the point of no return, but was all of this worth bringing it back from the brink of annihilation? Was that truly the case or was this a cover story to tug at heart strings? There were so many questions and so few answers. Naturally, he opts to stay away from any needles.

He spends the first couple of days attempting to get a feel for the unfamiliar city. The lights, synthetics, and general technology isn't foreign to him, but the way the city almost seems to morph (which he will later learn is quite literal) and confound even a seasoned individual such as himself is new to him. His memory is nothing to sneeze at; he would take a turn, recall the small pile of litter overflowing a trashcan sat beside a particular building, attempt to return to the spot only to find himself in a completely different area. However, once he came across a few landmarks it was a bit simpler to get around.

The dorms. His new would-be living quarters. He stops by his assigned room of course, checking every square inch of it, looking for alternative escape routes, etc, before doing a sweep of the building as well. Don't mind the green, leather clad alien wandering about the building — while he appears casual in the way he walks with his hands behind his back, almost as if on a leisurely stroll, his mind is at work as he scouts the place out. If he's to live here he's going to memorize every security flaw (and strength).

Axe hole [couple of days after arrival]

Axe hole. Charming.

If he were to continue on with his life, whatever has become of it now, and put his assassin days behind him, then it would be wise to get some sort of income. If he were to figure out anything about this place, it would be wise. The first thing he would have to focus on is getting some sort of weapon — a concealable gun, perhaps. But first he would have to find out where to get one. Not to mention, while he's steadily leaving that life behind, he's still working under a fake name. But, baby steps.

That being said, this wasn't how he pictured things going. He's done quite a bit of random work before but he can honestly say he's never worked at an axe throwing bar before. Supervising and making sure people didn't attempt to axe throw drunk wasn't the ideal but work is work. So, here he is, watching over things with a critical eye, occasionally having to stop a drunk from grabbing an axe. Or trying to talk someone into signing a waiver.

Wildcard

Shoot me a dm/pm/etc if you'd like them to meet anywhere/way not included in my prompts! Or just go for it.

Edited 2019-09-10 17:26 (UTC)

It's pretty early, but Connor's already let curiosity about the axes get the better of him. He's never seen an axe or...heard of axe throwing in his very short life, so just holding the thing is already brand new, getting used to the balance and the weight of it before he even thinks about trying to throw it somewhere.

He's just about to try throwing it - not at the target, just...toss it in the air and see if it behaves like he thinks it will - when--

There's a human next to him, and he promptly drops the axe - and neatly steps back so it doesn't fall on his foot.

"You..." The LED on his right temple goes from blue directly to red as he stares - at her - around them like someone else might have noticed this - back to her. "You weren't there a second ago."

He quickly checks his memory banks - nope, she was not there ten seconds ago. He'd swear on it.

"I didn't tell on you then, either," he says lightly, almost jovially as he takes another drink and watches Connor play with the ax between his hands like a fucking psycho. What if Jet Li starred in the Shining, right there. At least he can be pretty sure that Hank won't grab an ax away from him.

But then Connor asks him a strange question. Strange because Hank's been a city boy his whole life with no real need to throw axes.

"Hell no."

At a shooting range, Hank's aim is impeccable. He can nail headshots without a second thought. He's morbidly afraid of chucking an ax and it ending up in the ceiling somehow here.

"Nice move, though." Another drink of beer, like he has no intention to pick one up and try.

"Everyone behaving so far?"

Hank walks up to the... strange... bug man? Hello, strange bug man, and asks how his day watching drunk people fling heavy bladed objects has been. Asked in Hank's booming deep voice after approaching with the laziest casual swagger a lack of general fucks can buy. He knows at some point this would go from nerve-racking to a normal day but damn, until it did?

Hank's done with his beer for now. He's waiting for his company to be ready to go, and just kinda lingering. But, honestly? He's a cop, and this seems like a more stressful job than even beat work. He's not sure the owners knew what they were getting into when they opened this thing up.

At least at the moment he's not in uniform. He just looks like a concerned patron trying to make conversation with the poor 'idiot wrangler' for this establishment.

He needed hobbies. This was something David was even more certain of since his best friend had left the city under mysterious circumstances. And after all of the month before he needed to unwind as well, contemplate new knowledge, determine where he was going to go with what he'd figured out.

He needed something physical, something frivolous, and something just close enough to his skill sets that it would be fun but also something he'd have to work at. So when he'd been walking down the street and seen the axe-throwing place, well, how could he resist. Time to see if all the weapons training he'd had extended to thrown axes.

And it was a question that wasn't getting answered. Hadn't been in the building for three minutes and completed his waiver paperwork ~~he actually cared enough to read it all~~ when he heard the shout of pain. Some idiot cutting themselves on the head of an axe while they were goofing around. And since the waiver said nothing about trained medical personnel providing assistance when something happened, he'd jumped into action to patch the idiot up and order them to go to a clinic.

Once all of it was done he started packing up his emergency kit and looked at the nearest employee.

"I'm sure you see that sort of thing all the time. You'd think people would put together that axes are sharp."

Connor has no idea he's looking like a particularly adept serial killer right about now - he relies Hank to tell him these things. Otherwise he'll probably just keep doing it until he unwittingly terrifies somebody or finally drops it. Actually, he'd probably keep doing it anyway.

He shrugs off the praise. "It's impressive when humans do it. Not so much when you've got a computer in your brain."

With a flick of his wrist, he flips the axe in his hand so he's holding the top of the handle, holding the end out to Hank.

"Do you wanna try it?"

"Fuck you, it's still impressive. You can eat my ass." There, Connor. Have that sound argument. But then there's the question, and the necessity to face facts.

"Who, me? Nah. I'm good."

He says it with the self-consciousness of someone who doesn't really want to brutally fail in front of strangers. Also the vague worry at being old; were he ten years younger? He'd absolutely be jumping at the chance, regardless of success. Maybe the recent not-birthday is weighing on him briefly.

Hank's stopped drinking his beer, though, just watching Connor and his small performance there.

What a novel idea. Now this Dualis, a city named after the concept of Duality, was certainly not what it seemed, but it had every intention of proving the opposite. The God of Mischief was no stranger to deception, of course, and before even making his way to the dormitories, as the Head had directed, he'd taken to walking the streets of this strange city, only it wasn't always the same streets, even if he took four left turns. Illusion he could follow, but this seemed to be something else, something other than magic.

Curiouser and curiouser. Even more curious was the Head's insistence they all get to know one another, so much so there was, apparently, a monthly event dedicated to the ceremony, and so here he was, trying his damnedest not to smirk at the name of the place, sipping an adult beverage and not participating in the tossing of axes. It really was something his older brother would enjoy, and honestly Loki would be pretty good at it himself, but appearances and all that. Best to get to know the others before sharing too much about himself.

He's just a thin and wiry studious type with a charming smile, after all. If something does happen to join him at the small table, he'll afford them a mischievous smirk and glimpse awkwardly, a practiced and well-calculated act, down at the conversation card he was given upon arrival.

"Hello," he laughs as though he thinks the question he's about to pose is ridiculous, "I believe this is how this is meant to play out." He clears his throat before continuing, reading from the printed card in his hand, "What is the funniest prank you've ever had played upon you?"

Edited 2019-09-10 22:28 (UTC)

He knows the face as soon as he sees it. Which is interesting because he saw it for only a moment, but it was during an important ritual. Which could very well mean that he's just acquired a new headache in Dualis.

Upside? No future god who rewrites all of magic, and possibly space-time itself, for Loki to manipulate.

He slides into the seat as the man asks the question and he raises a single eyebrow at it, frowning at the Asgardian across the table.

"Funniest? Well, we've got a coin toss there. On one hand, someone once magically replaced my maple-smoked sausage with uncooked hotdogs just as I was taking a bit. On the other, there was the time when the same Asgardian god decided he was going to try and manipulate the powers of a young reality warper in the hopes that threatening him with an interdimensional magical parasite would give him access to said young reality warper's future god-powers. That one wasn't ha-ha funny, actually. Or a very good prank."

And with that he offers a brief, but ultimately unamused, smile. "I'm sure you could manage much better than that Loki if you really worked at it. Of course, the innocent, boyish face gave him an edge."

"The night is young," he replies with a smooth, deep rumble of his own voice. If he were phased at all by the surrounding chaos of drunks, flying axes, and general bar noises, he wasn't showing it.

Thane's attention is still on the axe throwers despite addressing the approaching man.

"Alcohol and sharp objects. I have my work cut out for me." Not that he has any doubts that he can face whatever troubles this occupation throws (maybe literally, depending on how things go) at him. Shepard had them risking their lives on an hourly basis and he did that gratis. But as he said, it's still early and he has only just started working here.

Listen, he'd needed to do something. Needed to be doing something. And since he really wasn't up for socialization and wanted to serve the purpose he was set by being here. Helping people. Mechanic work didn't do it, not really. So when the call came, so did Nida.

What he hadn't expected was what happened when he woke up the day after he got his injection. He wakes up younger. Or at least, younger visually. His hair back in a military cut, his face clean shaven and barely even showing stubble, and those last traces of baby-fat still there. Sixteen, young, and tired. He isn't very pleased.

Now he's wandering around, looking young and fresh-faced and frustrated because how are people going to take him serious as a teen? Now he can't get in to local bars when he just wants to sit around and bask in the environment, he's confined to premises at the mechanic's shop because who is going to trust a kid around busted vehicles when he barely looked old enough to drive, and in general bumming around town looking very much like a frustrated, angsty teen.

The worst part, though, is how it shorts his magic. The bursts of wind that he used to control so well are now just a little bit uncontrolled. The don't go very far but every time Nida gestures widely there's a gust of wind rushing from his arm, and so he's mostly forced to keep his hands in his pockets, except when he's shocked. And then whoops.

Edited 2019-09-11 12:07 (UTC)

[Arival/Around]
Steve was not unfamiliar with the feeling of waking up in a strange place not having his bearings or any sense of place for a while as he acclimates to new sites and sounds.

He eventually finds his way to the dorms, thanks in part to the guidance that the Head provided. He gave himself a headache thinking about a being such as the Head, so he shook his head trying to clear the fog before knocking on the door to his room.

[NAPS]

Steve tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, fussing with the plaid shirt that he wore. Whoever thought up this idea of welcoming people obviously didn't know him that well. He didn't do this kind of thing, ever... Well, that might be a lie, he did kind of have a life after the ice, just not much of one. He hadn't lied to Natasha when he said that wasn't his first kiss since 1945, but dating wasn't a priority. It still isn't, if he's honest, but when in Rome.

He looked up at the person seated across from him, smiling. "So, do you have any hobbies?" He almost audibly groaned because that sounded lame to even his ears. Natasha would be laughing for sure. He relaxed slightly at the thought, however, glancing at his companion again.

"That's what we are supposed to do right?"

[Injection, jection what's your fection]

Steve stood in line to get his shot like the good little soldier he is or was, depending on your point of view he thought. Kind of reminded him of the good ole days, back when waiting for bread, when there was money for bread or Steve wasn't sick. If he could help people then he would be more than happy to wait all day if he had to.

He wished he would have thought to bring a crossword.

Edited 2019-09-10 23:38 (UTC)

Ah, another familiar face. The world seemed to be filling with them lately, or filling enough for David to start accepting that there were people here that looked a lot like people from home. Wanda had been the first he'd known for certain. And now he was forcing himself to get used to what was happening.

In this case, him sitting down across from Captain Steve Rogers, the Captain America himself. Interesting. But the man wouldn't know him from anyone, probably not even back home, so he sees no reason to make it awkward.

"Yes, you're doing this right. Hobbies have never been a strong point of mine," he admits as he takes out a menu to check if there were any small finger foods he could order and eat. The shifts at work were very very long, but not very many in a week, and he was coming to today's session a bit tired. Should have held out for another day.

"I used to be a figure skater, if you consider that a hobby."

"I'm a cop from a city that was pretty shitty," at least Detroit started out shitty, it became less so. Marginally. The recent layoffs were not helping, and after one rough drug battle that he somehow managed to win he senses they might move to another. That's completely beside the point, though, other than he has a few stab scars here and there from it. "And even then? I don't envy you.

"I'm a cop here, too, so if you see anyone that's getting way too hostile with the equipment and not just fuck-stupid with it you can yell at me. I can help excuse 'em back to the station."

He's still bottom rung, but he's high enough to do an arrest and escort a guy to the station. And despite having developed a decent spare tire around the midsection during his years of depression, he can still restrain a perp with the... okay not the best of them. Connor is the best of them, in his opinion. But pretty high up there as far as humans go.

"Something like that."

The man sat across from Steve is a giant, close enough to seven feet in height that the difference is largely academic and built like a brick wall. His heavily muscled arms are covered with tattoos - some of them symbols, some of them words written out in runes. He's scowling, but that expression has been sitting on his face long enough that it's fairly clear that's just his resting expression rather than any overt sign of irritation or hostility.

"Talk." Aleifr punctuates the brief sentence by taking a swig of the drink he's nursing. "Get to know each other. Things of that nature."

Doesn't sound particularly enthused about it -- there's a sort of ho-hum weariness to his words -- but he's here.

Thane could tell when a customer was going to be trouble from the moment they stepped through the door, for the most part. He would watch them, hover just off to the side, and usually he could prevent an incident. He developed a routine fairly quickly. Of course, there was bound to be someone who slipped by his scrupulous watch.

Then again, his mind might be occupied with a lot of other things, hence that moment where some buffoon manages to cut himself on an axe. His reaction had been minimal — in fact he listed the number of infractions and mistakes the injured party committed while he was being patched up. He doubts a lesson will be learned of course.

"I haven't been here very long," he admits as he returns to his straightened, upright posture, glancing over the customers who haven't yet cut themselves. "But if I had to guess, I would say it's going to be a common occurrence."

"And having a trained medic on staff might begin to yield more admission of liability than your waivers indicates," David agrees, stripping the sterile gloves off of his hands as he looks up to the employee. And he doesn't flinch or hesitate at all. Just smiles. Smiles like meeting someone like Thane is a common occurrence.

"New to the city then. Then I suppose I should welcome you and point out that I haven't finished signing my waiver paperwork yet, so I don't think I'm technically allowed to touch the axe the genius was handling. I'm David, by the way."

Ah, a cop. Thane supposes that it's luck an officer happened to approach him. It's good to know the faces of the law around this place. He does wonder how effective law enforcement is in such a twisting, confusing, city just gathering people from different corners of the universe.

His gaze finally shifts to the other man. It only takes one horizontal and vertical blink of his lids for him to take in and memorize the other's appearance, how he's dressed, how he's carrying himself, etc, so a long and uncomfortable stare isn't necessary.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." Not that Thane is going to be calling on the law whenever someone gives him trouble, but perhaps displaying exactly how good he is at dispatching said trouble in front of everyone for a simple job should be kept to a minimum. He's starting to realize all of his precautions may not be necessary, but it doesn't hurt to be safe for a while longer.

"And to whom would I be yelling?" It would probably be a good idea to get his name. Consider him a person of interest at the moment.

Vincent hasn't sure he even completely understood the point. A firing range? Certainly, and he would attend. Firearms were one of his great interests, after all, but ax throwing seemed...somehow far too cumbersome to be of any actual use. He watches the participants in silence, arms crossed, thoughtful, overlooking the festivities below and looks over to Namine's direction when she questions the sport.

"Fun...I think. You make for the target. Those who have the closest shot probably win."

It's a mixed bag whether or not someone would have some kind of reaction to Thane, usually. But so far since his arrival the scales have tipped largely towards "some kind of a reaction", as apparently no one has ever seen or heard of a drell before.

"Not technically, no. Though I doubt you'll manage to slice your palm open like that gentlemen very nearly did." If he were going to be honest, "one drink per hour" should really be cut down to "no drink". He gets the distinct impression that man was a lightweight.

"Thank you for your assistance, David. You're correct in your assumption that I'm new to the city. I'm Tannor."

Edited 2019-09-11 02:43 (UTC)

"Just a minute!" The voice that called out to Steve's knock was undoubtedly on the young side, probably not something he was expecting, and a couple of minor thumps came from the room before the door was swung open. "Okay Aqua, I'm rea- Oh!"

Whatever Ven had been expecting when he opened the door, it clearly wasn't the giant man in front of him that made him crane his head back to see his face. Not even Terra was that tall, at least not yet, and for a brief moment he had to squash a fleeting brush of envy. His growth spurt had started, but it needed to finish. And the man looked... pretty nice, all things considered, if not somewhat lost. "Hi there. Can I help you?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 29

i've been bitten by the bug ...

Arkady || OTA

Hank Anderson

Naminé || OTA

no subject

Thane Krios | ota

no subject

no subject

Axe hole

Axe Hole

no subject

no subject

Loki Odinson | NAPs | OTA

no subject

no subject

Innoculations

Steve Rogers |MCU| OTA

NAPS

no subject

[NAP]

no subject

no subject

no subject

NAPs

no subject

Arrival/Around