Intro Log: Eight Legs No Heart

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for June.
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: June 10th-15th
Warnings: Spiders. Soooo many spiders. New people. Probably swearing.

For once, the new arrivals to Hadriel will not be waking up on the cold hard ground of the colosseum. Oh, sure, you'll still awaken in the arena - but this time the Door has been kind enough to ensure that you wake up comfortably arranged in a very nice chair. Or maybe not so comfortably. Some of those look pretty awkward - hopefully you didn't wake up with a crick in your neck! And hey, feel free to try to drag some of these super cool chairs to your new homes. They're probably not cursed or anything.

As you make your way out of the arena, be careful getting to close to the walls - well, except that's the only way out, so good luck! Chilling up on there waiting to get the drop on you are Skulltulas. These funky-looking spiders have squishy underbellies, but their upper exoskeletons are hard and very difficult to break through. They really just want to nibble you a few times, and maybe suck out all of your blood. No big deal, right? Have fun!

Have you conquered your arachnophobia and managed to escape? Great! Feel free to go explore the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers June 10th-15th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

Lavi | Open!

[bookman_exorcist]

A. Colosseum:
Lavi comes to slowly, looking around blearily for signs of immediate danger or Noah. Finding neither, he stretches and stands, grabbing the small device that was sitting next to him on the chair. "Doesn't look like a Noah party, especially with this thing." He thumbs at it as he starts to move toward what he assumes is the exit. "Obviously some kind of communication device," he mumbles to himself as he enters one of the corridors paying much more attention to the screen than his surroundings. It's only when he feels a rush of air and a strange chittering that he looks up and sees the Skulltula dropping down in front of him.

Lavi jumps back, pockets the phone and grabs his hammer. "Shit-! Well hello to you too, ya creepy ass spider!"

B. Later, In the City:
Once Lavi escapes the Colosseum he decides to walk off his brush with the spiders by exploring the northern end of the city. He's headed in the direction of the library but will stop to look at anything else that seems interesting along the way.

Muscovy | Open!

[muscovy]

I. Waking up

[Muscovy got lucky... Well, somewhat. The chair that he wakes in is very comfortable, compared to some of the others, but it is also so soft that getting out of it is quite a challenge (Like this, just with slicker fabric and more encroaching walls). Especially considering how packed up he is.

Give the little kid that's trying not to drown in a cushion chair a hand in his struggle to get out?]


II. Approaching the spiders

[He's solved his first encounter with a spider by running and retreating to the center of the room... and is now approaching the wall where he sees an exist again, slowly. And looking out for others doing the same whose defeat of the creatures he can maybe piggyback on to escape. Though he is also holding a gun in case he needs to get active himself.

Turning around, character's might find a seven year old boy with a giant backpack stand behind them seemingly out of nowhere, smiling, holding a gun and alternating between watching them and the Skulltulas on the wall before them.]


III. Outside

[Afterwards, he will wander the streets of Ataraxion, clearly searching someone or something. If he spots a person, he will stop and redirect his steps to walk towards them.]

Hello.

A

[muscovy]

"You should try to not get too close to them without looking, yes? They are very hungry and think we're their food."

Muscovy has been watching his surroundings closely almost since he arrived and had a run-in or two with them himself. And since there aren't baby spiders anywhere, them attacking because they are hungry and lying in ambush seems to be the explanation that makes the most sense.

sans | undertale | open | will match format

[skelebro]

chairing is caring

It's a funny feeling. The swish and catch of a blade tearing through bone, and then the leaking of red out between his fingertips. It's hilarious. Comedy gold, even. The thick scent of ketchup creeping out from between the jagged parts of his ribs in an obscene parody of blood. And the kid stands, impassive, and then there's the whole of him shuddering to keep itself together. Then, at last - the dispersal of his molecules into the wind, motes of dust swirling away from empty eyesockets and pooling into the air.

And then, he's somewhere else. Draped on a chair in an indecently haphazard sprawl, his jacket puddled around him. Sans can't say he's devoted much time to the concept of an afterlife, not really, given the lack of necessity for such a thing when time's been mangled into such a closed loop as it is, but if he had? He somehow doubts that this would be his idea of it.

He uncoils himself from that deeply uncomfortable position - the ridge of the seat was beginning to dig rather painfully into his tailbone, and that's fun for no one - and stands, a little unsteady given the recent nature of his death and all.

Few glances around the area ascertain a few important things. Firstly, he's still Underground. Or he's in an underground of sorts. This doesn't look like any part of the Underground he's used to. Secondly, he's not alone.

"Welp." Can't say he's seen this particular deviation from the beaten path before. Nothing about this tickles the back of his skull, sparks any recognition whatsoever. That's new. Better keep an eyesocket out. "Guess that's just the chair-y on the fresh sundae."

arachnophobia? i'm gettin real arachno-bored-a-ya

[All right, so this is, categorically, not what Sans would call the best time he's ever had ever. These things are clearly not amenable to diplomacy, offers of food, or bad jokes, which just goes ahead and makes his entire roster of potential responses obsolete.

Sans does not run. He does not even jog. He has two speeds, and those are, in short order: meandering, or taking a brisk shortcut around the bend with a minimum of actual movement. 'Course, not being able to see where he's heading makes any kind of short-form shortcutting extremely difficult, which rides that option right out. Thankfully, for someone as lazy and out-of-shape as him, Sans can be remarkably light on his feet.

But the spiders just keep coming, hissing at him intimidatingly.]

C'mon, hey. [He holds up both bony hands, palms out, sweating a bit despite himself.] Don't you know how to greet a new pal?

[Unfortunately, that line from the old script has no effect. It's not like Sans has got flesh to chow down on, or blood to suck, but the spiders seem successfully rankled by his very presence regardless.

Please someone save him.]

ａｌａｙｎｅ ｓｔｏｎｅ ｜ ａｓｏｉａｆ ｜ ｏｔａ

[alayne]

（  ａ  ）  ｔｈｅ  ｃｏｌｏｓｓｅｕｍ

[ the girl who raises herself from the chair wears a heavy gown of good cotton and a dark cloak above it, in her arms there are others, gowns of good cotton and silks in a basket that she had been carrying before she had found herself - where? she looks up and sees no star, no hint of sky.

alayne stone, dark haired and pale and tall for her age raises herself up. her boots are the good leather ones and on her gown, you may spot a broach in silver shaped like mockingjay. it takes her a moment to steel herself and notice the uproar, the dark shapes of the beasts, the people fighting them.

spiders, she thinks, demon spiders and she forces herself to gaze away as one of those beasts crumbles to the ground.

she runs, tries to make it past the stone walls. a tug at her cloak and she pulls it free, stumbling onto the ground.

she lifts her palm and sees it's bleeding. cowering as one of the beasts crawls closer, she'll try and catch the eye of the fighting men and women and whisper a panicked please. ]

（  ｂ  ）  ｔｈｅ  ｐａｒｋ

[ hours later, she can be spotted at the park, walking on the little trail at the outskirts. her palms have been cleaned, she is still holding onto her basket and despite the turmoil and the panic and the fear ( she is gone from her realm with none to guide her ) she does not let it rise to the surface, not here. she undoes the knot on the dark woolen cloak. it isn't cold here and she stops to rest on one of the benches.

if you happen to come sit next to her she will offer a prim, good-day to you. ]

（  ｃ  ）  ｔｈｅ  ｈｏｕｓｅｓ

[ they are all odd. they do not seem like anything alayne had seen before, they are not hovels nor village houses. the shapes are off and when she peeks at the general direction of the window, there is light inside them that is unlike that of an open flame.

it frightens her. approaching any of them to look seems dangerous. if there is someone there - something there - and the odd light is foreign, it is all so terribly foreign that she almost flees the place at once.

if you run across her, she might seem startled and then she would timidly bow and offer a courteous, with your pardon. ]

Ushahin Dreamspinner | Open

[ushahin]

A. Colosseum

Ushahin is quick to wake up, his eyes snapping open and taking in his surroundings. Ignoring the usual pain in his bad eye, a quick check reveals that he still has Godslayer and the Helm of Shadows by his side. Even Fetch sits there, perched on his shoulder. The raven blinks his bright eyes and takes it all in with a curious tilt of the head. He wonders where he and his little friend have ended up.

Glancing at the chair he's sitting in, made of bones that he hopes are animal, the half-breed is stands up in a hasty manner. He's not all that perturbed at clearly not longer being in Uru-Alat. Reality has always been more of a suggestion of Ushahin than a strict state of being. "Have we stumbled into someone else's dream?" He asks the raven on his shoulder. Fetch responds with a grumble and ominous-sounding mutter.

B. Spiders!

Spiders are something that Ushahin is familiar with. Granted, these beasts are quite a bit bigger than the ones that had constructed the webs of Darkhaven, but Ushahin is confident that he can handle them. After all, a spider's needs are simple: build webs and eat meat. He has no intention of helping them along with the second part.

When one of the Skulltulas comes near him, Ushahin doesn't move or go for his sword. His eyes do seem to flicker and a subtle ripple goes through the air. "Leave me be," he whispers softly, waiting a few precious seconds for the glamour to take affect. Though he's standing not less than ten feet away from the spider, it completely ignores him. Though nothing shows on his face, inwardly, Ushahin is relieved. He wasn't sure that was going to work.

C. In the city

Once he has escaped the eight-legged pests that seem intent on eating everything in their path, Ushahin finds himself wandering the streets of the city. With the adrenaline wearing off, he's finding himself to be quite tired. It wasn't so long ago that he had been partaking in a battle to decide the fate of himself and everyone he cared about. And now...well, he doesn't want to think about all that he had lost. All he has left of his world are the weapons wrapped up in a bundle at his side and Fetch. The device that was left with him has been forgotten for right now. He doesn't know how to work it and has higher priorities on his list than figuring it out.

The raven is flying high overhead, occasionally transmitting the images of the city from a bird's eye-view. He sees many buildings, some tall spires and others a bit smaller. All Ushahin is seeking for right now is shelter and food. Once he's done with that, he can focus on getting his bearings and understanding more of just where he's ended up.

I

[ushahin]

[Nope, Ushahin is going to be most decidedly unhelpful. He stands there, blinking slowly as he watches the child struggle. He looks as though he's just come from battle himself, a mixture of grime, sweat, and blood splattered all over. He's gotten up from his own rather creepy-looking chair, watching everyone else with a curious air. His face and body look as though they survived some horrible injuries some time ago, his temple sunken in on one side, with a cheekbone rising up higher on the other. The eye socket of his bad eye is equally ill-knit.]

Mayhaps it would be easier to stand up if you took the pack off first.

B

[ushahin]

[Once Ushahin is in the park, at least he's back among nature. It makes him feel a tad more sure-footed, even if everything else in this place is strange and unusual. There's a young girl sitting there on a bench, dressed in trappings not unlike the way the women of home might be in.

As he gets closer, it is very apparent that there is more unusual to this man than simply his mismatched eyes. There's signs of recent battle on his clothes, and more tellingly, signs of old injuries that have long since healed poorly. His face is a mess of bones that have shattered and since knit back together, most prominently at his right cheek and left temple.

In response to the girl's greeting, he sits down, just a touch too close for comfort, and asks her a most unusual question.]

Is this your dream I have found myself walking in? Or perhaps someone else's?

[muscovy]

[He pauses his struggle for a moment, which lets him slide back into the deep drop in the middle, losing the treacherous success that he had with climbing out a bit.

While he can only see the top of Ushahin's head from where he is behind walls of cushion - hair and eyes - he can come to a conclusion about them, namely that the person who just spoke, at least momentarily, is neither helpful nor dangerous.]

But then it would be stuck in this and I would be outside and unable to get back to it, yes? [And he won't abandon belongings that he has done his best to keep for years that easily.]

[ushahin]

[He could watch this all day. It's not like he has anything better to do. He lets Muscovy struggle for another minute or two, watching with mild interest to see if he'll be able to escape the giant cushion by himself. When he still hasn't seen any progress made, Ushahin shakes his head.

Tsk. Children are so very helpless. He offers his good left hand to the boy.] Come on. Let us get you out of there.

[alayne]

[ she doesn't look away from him. the girl who came before, sansa, had seen disfigured men before. there was tyrion lannister, the imp, who she was forced to marry. his eyes, too, were mismatched, one eye and one black and his face, too, has been disfigured in battle. there was also the hound with his terrible burnt face, black and red and a hole where a ear once been. sansa had found it hard to look upon them, at first.

the jape is, those were the only men who had minded her safety in king's landing. the true monsters of the tale were fair with golden hair and lovely features.

alayne looks at him as she would look at any stranger, careful and timid but not scared nor repulsed. ]

I do not know, sir. It is not a dream, I think but I cannot tell you what it is, I am a stranger to it, the same way you are.

[ she moves to rise. these days, she fears proximity with anyone. ]

Forgive me. I cannot offer much, I know very little.

[muscovy]

[Well, there is one simple measure that he would have taken in a pinch, but he's not sure what this thing is filled with and if it is dangerous, and also it might belong to someone who would get angry if he just slices it open.

So while he didn't expect the hand and considers it for a long moment before taking it, he is rather glad that he didn't have to go there. Even though this might come at a price, but he will deal with it when it becomes a thing.

For now he takes the hand with a grip that is both stronger than it needs to be and stronger than a child his age should be able to apply and nods cheerfully.

He'd like to not be stuck in this strange... whatever it is meant to be.]

A

[muscovy]

[The one who comes to her aid isn't a man or a woman - it is a boy who can't be older than seven, but with eyes that show no fear, only a cheerful determination. He has, through watching others more than through trying it for himself, figured out how these creatures can be killed, and while he didn't mean to stay in these caves for longer than necessary he fundamentally likes people being lively and perhaps being able to become his friends at a later point too much to let them be killed if he can help it.

And the skulltula being focused on someone else right now has a big advantage. He has a calm moment to put down his backpack, grab his bow and quiver and a stone, and get in a favourable position before tossing the stone.

It's the effect of that last part that Alayne will see: The skulltula suddenly turning, startled, and then rearing up and backwards as an arrow pierces its soft, now exposed underbelly.

Muscovy lowers the bow and reaches for a dagger with his left, already running towards the spidery creature to follow up his attack with slicing open the underbelly. It's a moment of a few more seconds, a smooth movement bringing him back away from the spider and towards Alayne as soon as his blade has ripped the belly open to evade whatever spills out.

One of the legs hits him in its trashing and easily smashes him aside, up in the air as he is, throwing him to the ground mere inches away from Alayne. He hits the ground hard, shoulder first, and lies there for a moment, not moving and breathing harshly.]

killin' spiders with my killin' knife

[ishotyouuu]

[On the other side of the spectrum, this ranks pretty low on the Wade Wilson List of Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Days. Sure, it was kind of a downer to find himself in this place again, but there were people to meet and creepy-crawlies to kill, which he supposes kinda made up for being ripped away from blissful, fleeting oblivion. And lookie here-- someone in need of a hero. Unfortunately, Wade seems to be the only one around, so the guy's gonna have to make do with what he's got. Fortunately for him, Wade knows the sorts of responses that giant spiders are amenable too-- that being violence, bloodshed and mayhem.

And song.]

The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the waterspout,
Down came the Wade--

[Stepping off of a precarious outcropping, Wade plummets to earth like a red and black meteor, activating his beam katanas at the last second and bisecting one of the foremost spiders down the middle, interrupting its attempt to pounce on Sans.]

--and took your punk-ass OUT! Ohhh! How that one taste, Charlotte? You like that? Try spellin' out O-W-N-E-D for me, huh?

[As the spider's body writhes in its death throes, the other spiders busy themselves with throwing up threat displays, because obviously there is nothing in their spider handbooks that explains how to deal with a spandex-clad acrobat with a penis-envy weapon suddenly punking them from orbit. Wade takes the opportunity to check on the guy he just saved, keeping his eyes (and his sword) trained on the horde.]

You okay there, kid? They didn't nibble on ya or nothin', did they?

[alayne]

[ the child is as ferocious as a wolf cub, distracting the thing long enough to cut it open and alayne does not look away. the girl who came before would have closed her eyes and retched but alayne stone is a baseborn girl, not the silly little girl sansa had been and she rushes to his side as he falls. ]

please, please, are you alright?

[ she reaches a hand into her gown's pocket, retrieves a handkerchief and offers it to him ]

are you bleeding?

[muscovy]

[It takes a moment before he answers - the impact carried quite some force, and it takes a number of breathes before his sight clears again and he pushes himself up.

His shoulder hurts, but the back of his head that hit the ground first was protected by the thick braids sitting snugly against the skin there, and his first movements is to quickly run a hand over the ground where his head hit the rock, searching if any of the red stones fastened into it have fallen out. They mean much - his hairstyle tells those who can read it whose dependent he is, signifying his lord father and thus their house, and while it would still be recognizable without, it just gets less so the more he loses, and besides, he wants it to be as complete as possible. Two have, and he picks them up and pockets them before turning around and facing Alayne.

He's wearing a tattered scarf, a blue tunic with a golden crest in the form of a star on the front - fine sturdy material, once, but it has seen much wear and tear since - over a black jumpsuit of a very different style and fabric (high fantasy and sci-fi sources just produce very different clothing) and she'll spot two more daggers at his side when he sits up a bit more.]

I haven't broken anything.

[The words aren't exactly an answer to her questions, but his head is still ringing and the message that all his bones seem to be intact, at least from what he can tell, seems to be the most important about his well-being.

Alayne will see the answer to her question herself now, though: The spider's leg has torn at the skin over his right cheekbone, and blood is seeping out of the wound, slowly trickling down his cheek.]

II

[circumitus]

Good thing Rey isn't arachnophobic, isn't it?

She had encountered many spiders in her day, though nothing quite as big as these creatures. Figures. Nothing ever seems to be of normal size in this place.

Just in case one of the newly arrivals (or existing ones happening upon the scene) by chance have a fear of spiders, Rey is here to help. Sort of. She's made her way into the Colosseum just fine on her own so far, anyway.

Seemingly unarmed, at that, not even sporting her usual armor when she readies herself for these events.

Unsurprisingly, Rey also happens to be one of those that finds themselves turning to face that seven year old boy. A boy who also appears to be armed, unlike herself.

Wonderful.

"Hey," she calls to him, motioning for the boy to follow. "Know a way out."

Rey has a friendly face, right? She's totally trustworthy!

[muscovy]

Her trustworthy face is totally the reason why Muscovy's features light up when he sees her, his smile widening into a grin as he nods and immediately comes over to follow her.

He had worried that with suddenly waking up here he would have lost his family, since they had not been in that hall, too. But Rey is here! Maybe she just woke up earlier. Does that mean that Firo is here, too? Have all the people from that jungle planet been brought here?

[alayne]

[ tentatively, carefully, as if she fears offending him, she reaches for those daggers, takes both by the hilt and offers them back to him. he will need them for the days to come.

( what shall alayne do? with nothing sharp enough to open the belly of the beast and little courage to try even if she were to have a weapon? ) ]

You were very brave for helping me, I thank you.

[ she dips her head in gratitude and with great care, cleans the blood with the cloth. ]

It is not a terrible wound.

[ looking around she moves, rises to her feet ]

we must hurry, before they come again.

[muscovy]

[He takes the knives and tucks them back where they belong - once he gets up, he will have to look for the third and his bow, and perhaps see if he can recover the arrow that he used on the spider, though he won't if it would take more than a few seconds, not when there are so many others around.

For now, he listens to her words, watching her as she speaks - really watching her, seeking. She seems vaguely familiar to him, though he can absolutely not place her at the moment.

There are more important things to attend to as well, he agrees with her on that. The cloth against his bruised skin makes him wince slightly, but he doesn't pull away and nods when she is done, starting to get up. She seems nice and a lot brighter than he thought at first, though not stronger than his first impression was. He likes her.]

The corridor is free now, yes?

[The one that the skulltula that attacked Alayne was sitting over, that is.

After a moment's thought, he hands the third dagger to her after finding it again.]

You should keep this until we are outside, yes?

[He will definitely demand it back after, but especially if she is weak a pointy end to her name might help in a pinch.]

[skelebro]

[Sans takes a moment to just silently thank whatever force sent this guy his way. Not that he's a subscriber to theories of fate or chance. He's seen too much to really believe that anything can boil down to a variable as simple as that. What he is going to do is not look this gift horse too deeply in the mouth, and let the red-black blur of bladed weaponry take these things out.

Ordinarily this would raise a whole lot of ethical issues regarding the nature of EXP, but a few failed attempts to defuse the situation via his tried-and-true diplomatic method has all but confirmed that whatever these things are, they don't count as the same type of monster he is. Which is both blessing and curse.

Sans's grin widens as he inches back, away from the scrabbling mass of the things that just keep coming like there's no tomorrow. Well, technically speaking, there shouldn't have even been a tomorrow for Sans, but he can privately debate semantics later.]

Nah.

[He's not sure what they'd stand to gain from chewing on a thing like him, but who can fathom the mind of a spider that doesn't even react to a bad joke?]

Just marrowly escaped. Heh heh heh.

[circumitus]

Of course, it doesn't immediately occur to Rey that the kid knows her already. Far as she's concerned, he's just happy there's someone willing to help a small child with a gun. It's not exactly an image that's all too encouraging.

Rey turns and leads the boy towards an exit, with six chatted and still-smoking remains of what had once been the oversized spiders scattered about.

Without another word, she directs him through a hole in the Colosseum, suspecting that he will be swift to follow suit.

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb / OPEN

[verinumeri]

[1] COLOSSEUM / SPIDERS

[ Dr. Hermann Gottlieb will not be taking this chair anywhere. (Which, incidentally, has "legs" 100 centimeters shorter than depicted, and so his legs extend awkwardly.) Less because of its hideous and arguably mocking design (he has looked better, less skeletal, better fed), and more because he has other things on his mind.

First: he jerks awake. His face, furrowed into a scowl even in sleep, irritation a clear wrinkle, tightens with a different, stark emotion: fright. Immediately he is all movement and agitation, his hands fumbling, the energy of his frantic waking briefly kicking his legs in, propelling him to his feet, but he loses his balance and falls back. It isn't a particularly comfortable chair to fall on. Hands still fumbling, grasping. Face white. Relief filters, trickles really, when with a glance, he can better direct his right, and his hand closes on the handle of his cane.

Back to his feet, then, where Hermann spins in place, neck craned, everything aching, no taste of metal in his mouth, a space in his head, no ceiling but above it, no stars, no sky, underground, but nothing is dispositive. A weight in his pocket. Thrust of the left, closing on a device, but when he pulls it out, it's strange.

Not dispositive.

Neither is the message. Hope, gods, Hadriel, nice try, only -- it's text. There's text all over it. Still not dispositive, though dizzying. He remembers, because it isn't as though there's been time to forget, time experienced -- the message. Major reconstruction likely finished and now, testing resumes, and how generous, they've upgraded their phones and given them text. New faces on the list, new names, but the space in his head confirms the one missing. He must still be in cold sleep. Hermann cannot think of that if he's going to get anywhere, so he doesn't. And he has to go, hasn't he?

How many days? The lost time frustrates, the inability to calculate.

But, he has to move, to prioritize the practical, then react. Food, shelter, fine. Hermann lurches toward the ostensible exit, and normally it's rather sensible to hug the wall, keep out of the open.

Well.

His reflexes aren't bad, these days. When something plummets, his knees obediently go out (intentional, surely), and he lands on his butt, on all fours (well, threes, given he's gripping his cane), and promptly scuttles backwards. Only then does he get a look at it. A phantom ache along his waistline. Fear gives way to anger and Hermann gets back to his proper, natural expression: he scowls. ]

Charming. Cute. Spiders. You can just -- ought just -- hairspray --

[ Cue the much too thin, ragged scientist literally feebly waving his cane at it. How he can be so tired after an indeterminate amount of cold sleep, he couldn't say, but of course, monsters, spiders. What the hell is he supposed to do? ]

[2] STORES

[ Wow, that above prompt was disgustingly long. Let's do this:

Somehow???? He gets out??? But still winds up alone??? And so.

Getting himself turned in the right direction, of course he prioritizes food. He's had to do without both, after all, and he knows how they respectively factor into the odds.

He's beginning to have his doubts. Largely because of what [ASSUMED RESCUER(S?)] said, but the buildings help. Not the spiral theme, that too has him scowling, a little nauseous, but the glass, the architecture otherwise. Not only spirals. Hexagons, circles, geometric shapes, which almost soothe him.

Then there's the store, this one, where he stands right now. Where he's been standing for 349.56 seconds without moving, simply staring at the selection. ]

[3] LAKE

[ Some indeterminate amount of time later.

Hermann meant to look at the housing.

He couldn't. Well, he could, but he'd gotten as far as glancing through the doorway of a bedroom and felt, frankly, a little --

He doesn't want to think about it. He's not thinking about the way he felt, really, just that he'd decided, before finding a place to arbitrarily call his own (not their own), he should eat the food, some of it, should explore a bit more. There'd been, of all things, canvas bags at the store. For the grocery. As if Haven wanted to ensure they'd be recycling.

It's an odd assortment in his bag. It's an odd assortment he pulls out once he reaches the shores of a lovely looking lake. (He doesn't buy it. Piranhas, probably. Flesh eating bacteria. Acid. Poison. Something like. Still.) He's taken off his blazer and laid it on the ground and sat himself down. His expression, as he looks out at the lake, vacillates wildly among suspicious and serene and cranky.

Odd assortment: a bag of carrots and a bar of chocolate.

Don't ask.

Between crunches, he also examines the phone, which means he's shoved his glasses (on a wire 'round his neck) onto his face. ]

[ushahin]

All of life is a dream. Most are just fortunate enough not to wake from it and see what is truly in front of their faces.

[Ushahin knows. He sees the patterns that no else does, the threads that make up the world around him. Most think him mad for it. Perhaps he is. No man is meant to see the ways that truly control life as people know it. He holds out a hand, the crooked right one, and motions for her to continue to sit.]

Stay. I will not harm you. Not yet. [The words come out less ominous then they would coming from another's lips. He merely says them, the way he might point out the color of Alayne's eyes or how the trees look. Ushahin's moods are ever-changing, and even if he doesn't mean any harm right at that moment, it can change in the blink of an eye.]

Son Goku | Open! ♥

[perceives_sunlight]

A: Oh Gross, Chairs. (Colosseum)
When he wakes up--

"Eh?" And gold eyes are already looking down at a very disgusting-looking, bulbous chair that looks almost waterlogged. It's grey, slightly moldy, and just... gross. Slightly damp. Why? Goku sits up quickly. His butt is wet. "Uh--ewww..."

The (five hundred and)fifteen-year-old scrambles out of the chair. Instantly, his stomach lets out a gurgling noise. The tiny youth lets out a heavy huff.

"Awww... noooo.... I'm hungryyyy..." Is the first complain. It's not 'where am I' or 'how did I get here'. Goku wants his stomach filled. He rubs his stomach, heading to the exit... only for a giant spider to appear. He lets out a noise.

"...That doesn't look tasty!"


B: :D Freedom! (Out and About after Esaping A)
No, spiders were not tasty. Lesson learned.

Goku still has an empty stomach. That was his main concern. However, he'd finally begun to question what normal people would have by now.

"...Where am I? I don't.... recognize this place at all."


C: Reunited and it Feels so Goooooood~! (Open to castmates only)
Goku hasn't been wandering around for very long. He's currently barefoot, with one hand over his stomach, long hair fluttering along behnd him as he walks around the city, looking around. He's sniffing the air. Food. Food. Where was food? Where was anything familiar? Where was...

...The sky? Where was...

...The sun?

And Sanzo? Or anyone? Sure, there were people on the street, but, was he...

...Alone?

No, no he couldn't panic. All he needed to do was walk around and find out more. Surely there was a way to get back to the temple, or... something, right? He didn't want to be trapped here! He... he wasn't trapped, right?

Right?