IC New Tokyo City

[Lulunopia]

~ Silas ~

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS​

The train ride had been rather boring. Beyond watching the scenery change from city to country and back again, Silas found the trip rather dull. Then again what did he expect from traveling alone. He would glance at his phone a second, reading the text from Gideon that was sent a while ago. Having decided to not answer and just be the surprise the man hates, Silas closed his phone before slipping it into his jeans pocket.

However, worry began to seep in. What if Gideon gets mad? The man doesn't like surprises, but here Silas was planning a surprise. Fuck, what if Gideon doesn't even want to see him anymore?! That though alone had Silas spirling into a hole of what if's.

"NEXT STOP: NEW TOKYO CITY"

Snapping away from those thoughts Silas realized his journey was coming to an end. The train began slowing down until finally Silas felt the jolt of it stopping. Too late to turn back now. Standing he gathered his bag and followed the crowd off the train onto the bustling platform. People brushed past all in a hurry for a reason that most likely did not need that kind of rush.

Following an unknown path Silas left the train station, checking the time as he reached the front doors. Hailing down a cab he climbed in, gave the man GIdeon's address, and sat back to watch the scenery again wondering if this was still a good idea. It was his turn to finally visit. Having been so busy working on a new piece Silas had forgotten how long it's actually been since he saw Gideon.

It would be several minutes later that Silas was walking up to Gideon's house, nerves wrecking his body. A shaky hand would reach up to knock on the door only to pause. Voices were coming closer, and as Silas turned to look he spotted Gideon and a…woman? Staring at them for a second, he waited until they were closer. "Hey Gideon! I thought you went home right after work," He called out in a joking tone, a smirk playing on his lips.

@wren. ​

 

[wreninanest]

hh

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GIDEON

The bus ride to his house is, thankfully, uneventful. People generally avoid the silent blind guy, anyway, but there isn't even an obnoxious wannabe rapper forcing everyone to listen to his newest song. He's not used to having someone to talk to on his ride home, but Ziggy has proven to be pleasant company, so he can't complain.

They're only a few meters away from his doorstep, judging by his calculations, when Silas's familiar voice has him stopping dead in his tracks, conversation forgotten. What were they even talking about, again? Books?

"Silas!" he greets, realizing belatedly that he's started grinning. He schools his expression immediately. "I normally do, but I was delayed by another sudden visitor here." Look at him, a lonely surprise-hating bachelor with two surprise visitors. Not to mention the nature of having his supposed estranged sister meet his... what exactly is Silas to him? A friend? They flirt like they're more, but they haven't put a label on anything. Is Silas even interested in him beyond platonically? So, two surprise visitors with complex relationships to him. Which god did he piss off?

"Ziggy, this is my friend Silas," he introduces, gesturing (where he hopes is) between them. "Silas, this is Ziggy, my supposed sister I never knew about." Great, now Silas is probably equally thrown off kilter.

He moves past them both and to the door, grabbing his keys out of his pocket and feeling around for the cold brass doorknob and unlocking it. "Would either of you like any tea?" he asks, stepping inside. It takes him a few moments of trial and error to find the light switch by the door for his guests' sakes, as he normally traverses his place with lights out.

The house is pretty tiny, made tinier by the dark brown and green paint colors, as is expected living in such a big city on his humble salary. It's rather sparse in decor, consisting more of basic furniture and otherwise open space. Several bookshelves line the walls, however, filled with vinyls and audio tapes. A record player sits beside the small sectional in the living room, his laptop already opened up on the coffee table.

「 @Ghostie | @Lulunopia 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[MaryGold]

TIME STAMP: HALLOWEEN

The first official time skip. There has been a fast-forward of two days later and the city falls on the day of Halloween.

FORECAST​

DATE: October 31st, 2035. Sunday.

TIME: Time is up to the players for their scenes.

WEATHER: 65°F (25.8°C). Warm with a pleasant breeze.

CITY ACTIVITY​

The holidays have set in and the partying and beach parties have begun. And the magi are taking the forefront of the celebrations.

 

[Justin]

♫ medusah ♫

i'm the baddest in the game, everybody knows my name

LOCATION
home

RACE
gorgon

INTERACTIONS
Brooke ( via text ) [ @Ghostie ]

MENTIONS
Agent/Manager [ NPC ]

Sitting in her lavish all-green and brown living room, Popstar Medusah was looking over her lines for a movie her agents had booked for her. They said it would show a different side of her talents. Medusah was a musical goddess but she wanted to dip her feet into the acting world, and recently she had some classes and loved it. Don't get her wrong; music will always be her number one. There's nothing wrong with creative expressions and trying different things though. Luckily her agents understood that if she wanted to do something, they would either go with it or deal with it.

Looking over the script once again. Rolling her eyes. The role was okay, but it wasn't as big as what she hoped for. The Gorgon Poptress wasn't expecting her first role to be Oscar-worthy but... playing stripper number one wasn't on her vision board either. Unwrapping her head scarf and letting her snakes roam around her head and face. "Ugh, why do they think they can play with me like this?" Kissing one of the snakes on the top of their head. The snakes hissed calmly and comforting. "I know, I deserve better and that's what I'll get. What we'll get." Smiling as the snakes moved in happiness.

Slapping the papers down on the wood floor, Medusah took out her phone. ~ Brookie Babyyy : "Gurl... wya? Come over, need to chat ." ~ Medusah needed her good friend, Brooke Davies to come over so she could vent to someone who would understand her predicament. Brooke was a badass Raptress and they had been ride-or-die besties for years now. Medusah could trust her with any and everything. She didn't have a lot of those types of friends and people around her. Most just wanted to use her for what they could get from her. Not Brooke... she was a real day one, A1.

 

[wreninanest]

TIME STAMP: FIVE DAYS LATER

FORECAST​

DATE: November 5th, 2035. Friday.

TIME: Up to the players for their scenes.

WEATHER: 67.3°F (19.6°C). Warm but rainy.

CITY ACTIVITY​

The start of the rainy season, people try to avoid the continuous rain.

 

[Princess Rose]

image

Ophira Vassenas

The relentless hum of New Tokyo City was usually a symphony of neon and hurried footsteps, but today, it was a dampened drone punctuated by the rhythmic drumming of rain against the sleek, chrome skyscrapers. Ophira, a woman who normally moved through the city like a vibrant thread woven through silk, found herself battling the elements like everyone else. Despite the downpour and the oppressive humidity, she was determined to conquer her Friday afternoon errands, her high-heeled boots clicking against the slick pavement with a determination that belied the dreary weather.

Ophira adjusted the oversized designer umbrella, its floral print a stark contrast to the gray monotony surrounding her. The city, a sprawling metropolis where the California sun usually kissed the ocean with golden light, was today a study in muted tones. Buildings were cloaked in a misty haze, and the typically boisterous crowds were reduced to a hurried, huddled mass of umbrellas and rain gear. She clutched her leather handbag tighter, its smooth surface cool against her gloved hand, as she navigated the crowded sidewalks. Each jostle, each puddle she narrowly avoided, seemed to test the limits of her already waning patience.

She had woken up this morning to the news that her favorite dry cleaner was out of business, and her usual breakfast spot was closed due to flooding. A series of smaller inconveniences that, when added together, felt like an elaborate conspiracy against her well-planned day. Ophira, a socialite whose life was usually a whirlwind of exclusive parties and high-profile events, was now engaged in a battle with the mundane, a battle she was determined to win with grace and style, of course, though it was difficult to maintain grace when her meticulously styled hair was slowly being defeated by the humidity.

The first stop on her list was the bespoke florist, a sanctuary of vibrant colors and fragrant blooms that she hoped would lift her spirits. As she stepped inside, the humid air gave way to the delicate perfume of orchids and lilies. The florist, a wiry man with kind eyes, greeted her with a warm smile, his presence a welcome respite from the chaos of the street. She ordered a bouquet of her favorite white roses, their pristine petals a stark contrast to the gloomy world outside, a small act of rebellion against the dreary day.

Next, Ophira hurried to her appointment at the city's elite stationery store. She was on a mission to secure the perfect embossed paper for her upcoming charity gala invitations, a task that demanded precision and attention to detail. The store, with its rows of carefully organized shelves and the faint scent of aged paper, was a world apart from the blustery city outside. She spent a few minutes examining the various textures and shades of cream, her mind already envisioning the elegant invitations she would soon send out.

Her next task was perhaps the most daunting: a trip to the specialty food market. The market, usually a vibrant hub of culinary delights, was today a muddle of damp shoppers and overflowing baskets. Ophira, carefully navigating the crowded aisles, scanned the shelves for the organic produce and imported delicacies she needed for the exclusive dinner party she was hosting that evening. She weaved her way through the chaos, aware of the eyes that followed her, recognizing the effortlessly chic woman beneath the umbrella.

As she waited in the long checkout line, Ophira couldn't help but sigh. She glanced at the city outside through the rain-streaked windows, the towering buildings looming like gray giants. The humidity was beginning to feel overwhelming, and her carefully crafted facade was teetering on the edge of collapse. Still, there was a strange satisfaction in completing each task, even amidst the chaos. There was a particular feeling when one navigates the mundane and comes out on the other side, victorious.

Yet as she finally exited the market, laden with bags, a small smile flickered across her lips. Despite the rain, the humidity, and the myriad of daily discomforts, she was still Ophira, the woman who commanded attention and conquered her day with quiet determination. The city might be in a state of disarray, but inside her, a small spark of defiance still flickered. This was, after all, just another Friday, and she would navigate it with the same grace and style she brought to every aspect of her life, rain or shine.

credits

 

[PavellumPendulum]

A conversation with Ariane in Black City...​

CEMRAELLE

The pitter patter of the rain outside of her office kept things somewhat zen at Storyspinners Publishing House. Despite this though, Cem's workspace was more of an explosion of colour than it was anything coherent at the current moment. With her newest book being put through the wringer when it came to planning and execution, since they didn't want to spoil the momentum they'd gotten with their previous work, perfectionism was becoming something like a cruel mistress of sorts.

Too many emptied mugs of green tea and smoothies and chilled lattes sat on her desk, growing a small army that needed to visit the sink. A billion different coloured sticky notes were clinging to every surface, since the whiteboard she commonly used for planning looked more like a conspiracy wall at the current moment and could not fit any more extra text. The plants that they kept in their room looked like they needed some TLC, drooping from the lack of attention, but to be honest, it was hard to manage. Cem, with their hair piled atop their head with a clip solely for work mode, jolted a little in their seat at the beep of their phone.

They shook the plot out of their head momentarily, banishing any thoughts of impromptu bondage to the ether, their eyes on the screen. Ariane.

She was a sweet girl with exquisite tastes (since she was a fan, of course) and a knack for turning words into oh-so-delectable images. She'd seemed like the perfect fit to create new graphics for Storyspinners social media, which needed a touch of refreshing, as well as for Cem's new projects, that still hadn't gotten official images either. So it was a win-win that she was super friendly too.

hey girl! yea, talk to me. im covered in post-its rn. this book has been GREEDY for my attention

10:50AM

Cem leaned forwards, directing her stink eye towards yet another empty mug, wishing she'd refilled it so she had a drink. Bah. Better to just do it now if she was taking a texting break, they supposed. Off to the little staff room they went, with an armful of mugs. Managing to get them all in the sink, they added:

were you still thinking of flying in sometime btw? if moneys an issue, ive got no problems getting you over here. would b good to work in person too!

10:53AM

「 @wanderingcoder 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[PavellumPendulum]

A conversation with Ariane in Black City...​

CEMRAELLE

With a half-hearted snort, Cem double-tapped the message that appeared right before she'd sent hers to give it a heart reaction, seeing Ariane's joke. It was a good thing that they kept their notes confined to their room, otherwise they were certain that Gideon would never let them hear the end of it. When one couldn't see, it certainly wouldn't be helpful to have random bits of paper scattered across every familiar surface. Splashing some water from the faucet into all of the various mugs so that their dried bottoms could soak a little while before she cleaned them, she glanced at the dancing bubbles signalling that a response was being composed.

Well... Perhaps it was better to get started on the dishes now and finish them later before heading out for the day. Humming quietly to themselves, they managed to get through soaping and scrubbing the mugs when their phone pinged again. Having thought ahead, Cem had left the screen on, so she leaned over, checking out the response.

It elicited a little grin.

Fun! They had to get these things cleaned so they could respond. After a few minutes of rinsing and stacking the mugs onto the drying rack, they meticulously washed, dried and moisturized their hands before typing out a response. No one should be using their phone with dry ass, crusty cuticles, after all.

thaaaat's what i like to hear you wanna do 5 days? half work, half play?

we've got hella good sushi if ur into that... and u would have the best tour guide in the country (and yessss excited to meet n' work!)

11:08AM

「 @wanderingcoder 」

Code by Jenamos