ARC SANCTUARY V2

CloudyBlueDay

consistently inconsistent
Original poster
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Both.
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Genre You DON'T Like
I am generally not a huge fan of RPing Fandom, but it can depend.




WARNING!

This story contains no happy endings. Please proceed with caution.




NEVER_NORMAL_ARC_SANCTUARY

NEVER NORMAL ARC: SANCTUARY

When I was eight years old, my father painted me a picture. It was blue and green, a depiction of a flowing river, and it held a serenity in his fluid brushstrokes more prevalent than I had ever known in my entire life. He was a collector of those old, enchanting things. Little cubes of pigment, watercolor. Only the rich could spare water for the enjoyment of art.

I only wish to do right by my father.

He wanted to see the world at peace again. He wanted to see rivers instead of skyscrapers, to see animals instead of holographs of them. He wanted to live, more than anything, so of course, he had to die.

One by one they will fall. Matrikt will keep bringing them in and squeezing them out until all that’s left living are the machines. Perhaps father would have preferred a gentler method, but he knew that in this world the only way to fight fire is with fire. He taught me that.

I’ll get it right this time, father. I’ll get it right.


On Octomver 10th, 2439, you received an email.

Dear [your name here]

Fear for your future no longer. Congratulations on your admittance to Sanctuary - this invite is good for one person only and non-transferable. Spend the rest of your days in peaceful bliss as I welcome you into my finest creation yet.

Arrive promptly at my private Skytrain station at Octomver 15th, 11am at this address. If you are late, the train will not wait. Pack only sentimentals and essentials. Everything else will be forever provided.

I eagerly await your arrival.

-Lyris Matrikt.


So there was five days to pack your things and say goodbye. Just like that. With no clue if you could ever return to your old life or not. But it had to be better than this, than starving and dying on the streets or succumbing to an unfulfilling upper-but-not-quite-elite class life. And if not, hey, you could always leave, right?

Right.

Octomver 15th came quickly. There was an enormous amount of security upon arriving at the Skytrain station, privately owned by Big Bux Co, everyone’s implant being scanned multiple times and baggage being taken from you rather early on. A little attached? Shame. The workers that buzzed around the station gave little introduction or warning, and you were shepherded onto the train like a well oiled machine.

Not a speck of dust. Not a drop of dirt. The Skytrain was immaculate. Bright, big windows by every row, but it was going much too fast anyone to even comprehend the view. The seats were plush, grey leather -- synthetic, of course -- in pairs, each with a table.

The train car was endless, filled with rows of seats and then, at the very end, a dinner car. But there were no packets in sight, not here. Not when your life of opulence was finally beginning. There were multiple tables piled high with fresh fruits, meats, hors d'oeuvres plates with the finest cheeses, meats, everything imaginable. How was this even possible? Seemed the rich managed to keep a few farm animals lying around.

On the other side, in a far off corner, sat a very dejected man with a stoic face. His name was Linreyus, and he did not look very excited about being here. His posture was curled and folded, one leg swung over the other and his thumbnail trapped between his teeth. A fancy looking watch was strapped on his wrist, as well as a sharp suit. The only problem was, it was dirty. As if he’d been pushed to the floor and maybe rolled around in it a bit too. His face as well, marked in brown and black, and his hair a mess. Somehow, he had managed to keep his briefcase, which lay at his feet under the chair.

The doors closed. The engines whirred. And the Skytrain was off, carrying you to your new abode, and perhaps a new fate.







objectives

Explore the Skytrain. Ask around, see if anyone knows anything about Sanctuary and what the heck is going on. Who is that dirty guy in the corner. Bother him. Oh my god real food. Eat the real food.


notes

Until the next GM post, you may post as many times as you like. Welcome to Sanctuary! (Technically not yet but almost but you know what I mean)


 
Last edited:

Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
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Beiatrixx "Beia" Kolekouskee | Location: Skytrain | Interactions: Anyone who bothers to acknowledge her stupidity


Congratulations on your admittance to Sanctuary.

...

...

Wait... excuse?

Trembling from head to toe, Beia deactivated her inbox and turned around on a stiff heel, power walking into the Sys's room. She was cool. Yep. Definitely. Like--tundra ice caps cool. Frigid. She was frozen--internally. Screw having a normal temperature and producing body heat. Naw, that healthy shiz was for the birds. (Oh God, wait, those were extinct. She didn't wanna be extinct! Scratch the thought, scratch the thought!) The door was unlocked--as always--so Beia had no issues busting into her aunt's abode with the grace and stealth of a turbine clogged with marbles and toddler mucus (ew, Beia, what the frick, you sick fuck).

"Emergency, emergency, emergency, E-MER-GEN.-CY!"

Sys, who had been recline in minimal peace, jolted at her niece's entrance, muscles coiled and prepared to knock someone's lights out. However, she allowed herself to slacken upon recognize the shrillness of Beia's voice and deflated with a sigh. A tired smile pulled at her lips. "Lemme guess. You sneezed, made yourself twitch, and literally ripped the wall a new one?" A pause. "Again."

Whatever panic had been seizing Beia wavered long enough for her to hold up a single sweaty finger. Eyes wide. Lips pinched in defiance. "For your information, I was, just, like, feeling stuffy. We need more windows. I was renovating--for free. Cuz we're poor lil butts." Then, in the blink of an eye, her frenzy returned tenfold. "ANYWAY SYS BACK TO THE EMERGENCY!"

Sys chuckled and rolled her eyes. Strutting up to the shorter woman, she slapped firm hands to Beia's shoulder. "Bee? Breathe, sweety. You know how you accidentally suffocate when you get like this, yeah? Now," she cupped her niece's face, "What's got you spazzing out more than usual?"

* * *

Safe to say that not even Aunt Sys had seen the departure coming.

It was hard. It was hard as holy hell to leave. Were ugly tears involved? Heck yeah. Did all of those ugly tears ooze from the ducts of Beia's eyeballs? Oh, for sure, because Sys was a damn pretty crier. No contest. Either way, emotions spilled forth that day and the preparatory ones that followed weren't any better. Four out of five days were devoted to last minute bonding and tomfoolery with Sys (heh, it was so badass how she conned one idiot into buying an ancient condom, claiming it to be a relic from the Schwarzenegger Family itself), while the finally day--no--the final hours of that day, were spent tossing out clipped goodbyes to her parents and siblings. The awkward hugs and pats and "gonna miss ya"s, nothing out of the ordinary.

Beia was a dork, not stupid. Seeing her pack was the equivalent of watching a Messiah relief to their doorstep.

* * *

"Whoa! Ho boy! Okay! U-uh! Extra nosy, aren't ya?" Anxious giggles escaped Beia as security scanned her from head to toe, front the back, then repeated the process all over again. Jeez to please--she didn't expect it to be this thorough! A particularly invasive scan of her back sent shivers up her spine, body arching away instinctively. "O-kayyyy! Sirs! Sirs! Please, don't stare. Th-that's my no no square." Heh... Ha! Get it?? Because she had six squares... on her... back... It was fine. She knew she needed to swan dive headfirst into a ditch. Save your breath.

As soon as her luggage was confiscated, the world blurred by as her nervousness spiked and before she could blink, she was on the Skytrain.

Sweatier than usual, mind you. So yes, if one were to squint, she'd be floating on a puddle like... Jeskus? Was that what the old deity was called? Eh, close enough. Just know that she was extra freaking sweaty.

Taking a brief scan of the area, she took in the faces present. Some seemed... intimidating. Some seemed neutral. All seemed perfectly capable of whooping her ass and/or slashing her down the moment she opened her mouth. Ah, yes. Survival, her arch nemesis. How she loved to tango with the Devil (hip sway, mother truckers... She had hips, okay, don't question this).

She also tangoed with Danger. Like a dumbass. Which was fine--she accepted her default state of existence years ago.

Throwing her shoulders back and adopting the most confident posture she could muster, she strolled down the car, came to a stop in the middle, looked about one more time, then threw both hands up in the air. "THIS IS A GLORIOUS MOTHER FREAKING DAY LADIES AND GENTS! SANCTUARYYY!"

A moment passed.

Her brain moved.

Sanity returned.

"Err... uh... S-so yeah that's dope news right? Right. Awesome. Deargodpleasedon'thurtmeI'mjustaballofdorkjelly." With those last words rushing from her faster than her own feet, she sprinted over to the nearest vacant seat and literally crashed into it, wincing as the creaking noise it produced. Shit, shit, shit! Control your strength, you freaking loser! Beia scrambled into a sitting position, clearing her throat loudly while smoothing down her hair. She was cool. This was fine. Besides, they had real freaking food. Amazeballs! Biting back a smile (she'd look like a total butt wipe for smiling after that show of stupidity), she started shoving her face with as much fruit and meat as possible. Hell, she couldn't say anything else detrimental to her life if she was too busy scarfing down real foo--

Her eyes rolled.

This taste... pure bliss.
 

Sairento

-Not my art. Never my art. I can't art very well.-
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Mondei Dai - Location Skytrain

Excitement was a good general word for Mondei when she received her email. She was off her bed and slamming open her wardrobe the second after she finished reading. All of her favourite outfits were thrown into a floating cargo bot, and anything that didn't fit she threw into her little dimension. With her VR set up, extra wardrobe, hover bike, and even extra bed she'd painstakingly hauled in (and had robotically built) inside already, there wasn't that much more space for her other things, but there was enough. Sometimes it was like she was living there instead of her ACTUAL room, with almost the exact same possessions and features in both rooms.

Minus the bathroom of course. Turned out plumbing and sub-dimensions didn't mix very well.

Sometimes Mondei wondered about her powers. Where it came from, how it worked, why she couldn't have something more practical like super-speed or throwing lightning (what was she going to do with an extra room anyways. She didn't even have the cool normal teleporting!). It was good for when she needed to be on the move but…it wasn't as if she needed to do that. Still, it paid to have her room furnished.

…not really. But she was bored one day and her powers didn't seem to extend to good room design. Honestly, a bland white room was making her crazy and she didn't even spend that much time in it!

Anyways. Sanctuary. The email. Mondei had two reasons as to why she was so excited.

Firstly, she wanted to bring more attention to herself. The more publicity she got, the more people would focus on what she focused on, and also the more power she had to get people to do the right thing. It'd also get her in with the super elites, help her make a bigger difference.

Secondly, she wanted adventure. Action! To explore the unknown, just like the heroes and heroines she adored! Maybe she'd even find love!

Hah. She could try anyways…still, maybe she would.

W-was it too selfish of her to want something for herself? It…it was fine right? She was doing the right thing too.

"The right thing. Yeah, I'm doing the right thing," Mondei mumbled to herself, feeling much more reassured and snapping her cargo bot shut before she bound down the stairs to tell her family the news.

-----

Her parents definitely didn't share her enthusiasm, but she knew that going in. She never did find out why her parents were so insanely overprotective of her. Honestly, she was 19, it wasn't like she couldn't take care of herself!

Still, at least they'd recognized the fact they couldn't stop her no matter what they tried. They were so sad when she left…m-maybe she should've stayed? No, she had to do this.

"I'll write," she called as she waved goodbye, wiping away a tear at the corner of her eye as she headed to the station.

-----

She was a little annoyed when she got past security. In fact, she hated security in general. Always treated her like a child. Sure, she was small, but come on, couldn't they take her seriously? Always 'hey kid, stop trying to act so grown up'.

Ugh. They weren't especially careful with her favourite jacket either. Leather was hard to come by! And robust. But still!

Getting past security and giving up her luggage wasn't so fun either. Relinquishing her cargo-bot? She didn't like having her things taken away from her…still, a small price to pay. Tapping the side of her smart glasses, she smiled as the small HUD came up, a small camera floating out next to her head too. Her smart glasses could film too, but with the unsteady bounce of her walk…well, it didn't help. "Filming in three, two, one…" she mumbled, playing her usual intro screen, carefully fitting her mike to properly pick up her voice even if she whispered.

"Hello my demons. iDemon reporting in," she said under her breath, though she knew it transmitted great, grinning slightly to herself. Sure, it was a dumb anagram of her name, but she had fun with it.

"In case you somehow haven't already learnt, I got accepted into Sanctuary. Whole new beast is waiting for me out there. Here's the Skytrain now," she mumbled.

"Let's take a quick look around," she mumbled, turning at just the right speed that years of playing VR had taught her was the 'right' speed. "Interesting people, lots of space, tables of food…wow, the elites really do have it all."

"Indulge myself? No, eating food isn't my goal here," she mumbled as she sat down, pulling up a hologram keyboard to respond to her stream chat. "You all know that."

She was midway through the stream, getting far away close-ups of the other passengers as they came in until…well, the very loud one.

Jumping slightly in her seat, she was secretly glad that she wasn't using her smart glasses but the camera to film. Spinning around to get a proper look of the girl, she frowned for a moment from the surprise before reading her stream chat. "Talk to her? Alright guys," she mumbled, hopping out of her seat as she made her way towards the girl who'd made her way to the food tables. Smiling slightly at her obvious reactions, she waited patiently for however long it seemed to be appropriate for someone who just had their mind blown eating food for the first time before clearing her throat. "Is it good?" she asked, looking up a bit to talk to the stranger.
 

Khryses

Edgebabby
Writing Levels
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Aryel Jaffe
Mondei Oktomver 10 2439 - Location Aryel's Crib, Gadden District

"I eagerly await your arrival."

Oh yes, the dark-haired man could just imagine the great and wealthy Lyris Matrikt standing by at the other end of the Skytrain run just rubbing his hands in nervous anticipation to greet his new best friend Aryel Jaffe. The only time any of the Elites gave the lower classes a thought was to wonder what that stain was on bottom of their polished silvery Air Jardins. The notion that one of the haves - not just any have but the very have-iest of them all who looked down on most of his fellow elites from a peak near as high as they loomed over the rest of society was not so much laughable as inconceivable.

"I do not think that word means what you think it means."

"What?" he looked up from the workscreen he'd echoed the communication to, and stared at the older woman with the matted ginger hair shaved bald on one side who stood beside him. From this close he could see the roots tinging to grey, but he didn't say anything. Then again he rarely did, one of the reasons they got on so well. Neither of them felt any need to clog any rare moments of silence with random chatter, so when Aryel and Hapra drank together or did business each string of terse words was followed by a pool of quiet edged only by the constant low-grade hum of the wired world around them.

"Bliss," the older woman stated emphatically. "You were worried that this was too good to be true, that the sender - Lyris or whoever is pretending to be him - was threatening you with what, oblivion?"

"Exactly," he said warily, turning an old metal coin over between his fingertips. "Isn't that 'bliss'?" A drugged haze or simple execution would take care of that both simply and finally from an Elite's point of view.. Far better than letting a trainload of gypsies poke around his exclusive crown jewel, invitation or not.

But Hapra shook her head, lifting the open packet in one hand and biting off another mouthful of the wafer-like food inside, chewing as the Packet went gummy inside her mouth. "No. Bliss is... the moment at the end of the day, when you have a full stomach and the lights are on for another day. You've made your score, found another set of fully charged EnBatteries say, and you know you don't need to worry about where the food is coming from for another few days. You're sprawled in the hammock inside your trailer with your little friend and there's nothing you need to do except be, and be as happy as you can be."

"That's bliss?" He asked after a few moments thought, obviously grappling with the situation she described.

"That's bliss," she affirmed.

This time the silence lasted close to seven minutes broken only by the sounds of both of them eating their Packets and then sharing a caramel-and-cherry flavoured pastry bought at some local market. When it was gone and the last crumbs of the pastry licked off their respective dishes, he looked up and gave her a rare smile.

"I guess I should start packing."

<> <> <>

Saurdei Oktomver 15 2439 - Location Skytrain

If the letter was to be believed, this would be Aryel's last time weaving through the crowds in the lower city. Most people didn't own a vehicle around here. Most people had no need for one, walking in antlike trails from their beds to the factories where they spent their day, to the company shop to purchase their three square packets and back to their beds. Aryel had always found having one served him well as a Vulture, the electric groundcycle helping him to reach scrap yards much further afield than he'd ever have been able to reach on his own.

Of course the deeper you went into Takym's slums the more intermittent the electrical current in her roadways and there had been more than once that he'd managed to drain his onboard charge completely and ended up free-wheeling it along to an e-bubble where he could top it up again.

Not that that was likely to be an issue here.

Faulty roadways and poor maintenance were far, far beneath the lookout of someone like his host and he was scarcely surprised when he pulled into the entryway and was immediately swamped by security. His bags were taken, he was scanned within an inch of his life to determine he was who he said he was and didn't carry any harmful weapons or augments and after almost coming to blows with one security man he secured the grudging admission that his groundcycle would be brought along on the train to Sanctuary.

In storage mind you. And only after they completed decontamination.

Finally he was released to join the others, resettling his jacket impatiently around his shoulders as he stalked onto the train. Linreyus was given a cursory glance, the grinning 'caster scarcely more. She was lost in her own echo chamber and he could respect that, but didn't have the patience or the reason try to cut through her virtual fog. Doubtless they'd all speak later.

The manic pixie dorkgirl, on the other hand, drew a blank-featured stare at her antics.

Not judgemental! Not in the least!

More like an explorer discovering some strange new form of life, fascinated by it and trying to understand it as Beia retreated to the food table... and started eating it. That drew him over as well to inspect the food, and he politely gave the women a little space when the virtual citizen came over to join them.

Leaning in, he picked a strawberry from the plate and brought it up to his throat as he crooned quietly and coaxed a little scrap of mottled fur out from its hiding place in his jacket. Security had not been thrilled by the cat, and if possible the tiny feline had been even less impressed by the scans but the presence of his human and the offer of a treat brought purring forgiveness and he extended his head to take a bite from the fruit.

"There we are Moppet," Aryel crooned, feeding him the rest of the berry, then another. Ostensibly busy but listening and watching his surroundings constantly. He still wasn't comfortable here, "Bliss" or no.
 

Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
Roleplay Invitations
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A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
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A bit of both, lean more towards passive.
Favorite Genres
Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Mystery (I like them, just not good at it)
Beiatrixx "Beia" Kolekouskee | Location: Skytrain | Interactions: Mondei Sairento Sairento , Aryel & Moppet Khryses Khryses


"Is it good?"

Time stopped.

Ah, yes. Time. What a scarily powerful and indifferent force it was. Beia, before her fabulous social butterfly days (pffft!), would hassle her great grandmother for attention, as she was the only one physically unfit to flee away from the little annoyance. Even as she had flashed withered gums and wrinkled lips, there was tiniest hint of pity in her eyes. Of yielding. So Granny would toss out whatever knowledge she could, strips and pieces and fragments from great grannies of her own. Stories and opinions of those who roamed the old world. They had a few eggheads among the Kolekouskee Family, especially that of literary enthusiasts. Literature... Literature. That was so freak-a-dylan cool to her. She couldn't even imagine what that looked like. The crazy lines and etches and symbols on something flat. Something solid... Anyway, Granny had once told Beia about some sort of aspect called Naturalism. How writers used the theme in stories. How all forces of nature were unstoppable and uninterested with something as insignificant as people. The rain didn't fall because they were said--it just fell. A hurricane didn't rip apart the land of a tyrant because he or she deserved it--the weather called for it.


And time never stopped for anyone.

...What a load of bullshit that was! She had ran into peeps that could rewind seconds on her! Heck, even minutes! Just to be puckered crusty buttholes and steal her Packet. Time jumping jerks. She hoped they tripped over a, uh... space time continuum or something. And faceplant right into a black hole. Or something... Close enough.

Point was, she could believe that time stopped the moment a delicate voice reached her ears. Frozen (whewww boi, I bet I look so dang attractive with fruit and meat sludge swishing around in my cheeks right now...) and eyes wider than what was considered normal, she hastily swallowed everything down, wincing at the pain spiking in her chest. "Frick! Gah! Ow, ow, ow," she muttered, banging her chest and heaving a series of coughs. Great, Bee! Great start! Really! She held up a finger. "O-one sec! Gotta, wheeze, g-gotta unclog the good ole windpipes. J-jeez! Chewing, Beia, it's called chewing!"

After a few moments of retracing the steps to breathing, she finally caught her breath and locked eyes with the girl--...

...

...

A wheeze. Long, strained, shaky. What're words? How do make words go? Work not words. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! "I-I... I... I... H-hhhh..." A word! Just a single word! That was all she needed to shoot out of her dummy oral cannon! Just one! Brain scrambling for a saving grace, there was a twitch of thought, just a flutter on the wind, but she snagged onto it frantically and all but whimpered pathetically, "P-purple. P-p-pretty. Shit."

...Purple. Pretty. Shit.

If people weren't around, Beia would deck herself right in the face.

Shaking off the nerves as violently (internally) as possible, she sucked in a sharp breath and tried again. Luckily, her voice came through a tad clearer this time around, but still lacking the confidence she prayed for in that very moment. "Y-yeah! Yeah. Oh, man, this stuff, it... I've only heard stories about how delicious this shiz is. It's like my tongue's doing a happy jig right now, ya know? I mean--look at this!" She pointed at what appeared to be a potato, eyes shining with the brilliance of a million emojis. "Do you ever potate? Eh. Actually. No. Y-you're too pretty for that--BUT THE POINT IS! I potate. All the frickin' time. And never got to see an actual potato in person until now! Uh, can you say mind," her cheeks puffed out while wiggling her fingers on either side of her head, imitating an explosion sound, "Blown!"

And then another visitor. This time a man, but he seemed nice enough. Now then, was Beia still sweating? Always, lovely readers. Always. However, a huge chunk of her anxiety lifted when a furry little... head? A head? An animal--a cat! An endless flock of butterflies fluttered through Beia's gut, pure excitement threatened to burst at the seems.

Regardless, the last thing she wanted to do was scare off the man and his little companion, so she swallowed back a squeal and clenched the muscles in her legs, refusing to bounce in place. She settled for sucking in a semi-loud gasp before slapping a hand over her mouth. "Bruh. Bruh. Broseph. Sir. Please. Please. Complete my existence and tell me that I am definitely l-looking at an adorable cat right now." Her hand dropped, tapping giddily in her lap. "Girl or Boy? Moppet, I mean. N-not you. You're obviously all dude. Heh, Team T-testosterone, am I right? I... I'm not on that team, just saying." Her face pinched in an afterthought. "Err, wait. By the way, I'm Beia! You guys?" Her gaze snapped back and forth between them.
 

Elle Joyner

I guess...
DONATING MEMBER
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Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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My Usual Online Time
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Prestige
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Male, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Probably a mix. When I GM I tend to prefer mostly aggressive, but with input from my players. I like to offer ideas and receive them. I don't like when people just take the reins and run with it though...especially in a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Genre You DON'T Like
Anime. Ever. Just not my jam.

Smut. Romance as a main plot. Horror. Grimdark.
SUGAR

“I don’t want to go.”

Uneasiness.

“You are prepared for anything.”

Anxiety.

“You are strong.”

Fear.

“Don’t feed the damned mind monkey…”

“...Gee, thanks, Earl…” The last minute advice resonated in her mind as her feet arched over the entrance to the train, the noise of the city vanishing as the door closed on the pristine comfort of the enormous car.

Sanctuary.

Not really.

How long had it even been since Hex had gone? It seemed like ages had passed, and while the rest.of the world seemed satisfied with pretending they were enjoying some restful, comforting Utopia, Madam seemed to have other thoughts on the matter.

To a degree, it was why she'd sent Sugar this time. As a Maiko, Sugar wasn't as recognizable… and she definitely wasn't as costly an investment. Everyone told her it was so she could blend in… but she was pretty sure it was because she wouldn't be missed. Still… if she could get answers on what happened to Hex, it would be worth more than flirting with rich old men who wore too much cologne, over crappy tea that tasted like lawn clippings.

The car was already occupied with what she assumed were other lucky participants… Most notable were the girl with the purple hair and a bumbling bee of a creature, buzzing around with unbridled excitement. The pair were chatting - or at least, there seemed to be some attempt at conversation being made by the purple-haired girl, and then panicked rambling and a lot of gesturing and… It was exhausting just watching her try to function. Immediately, Sugar has to push down the urge to wander over and hug the poor woman, if only because there was something intensely endearing about the abject… normality… radiating off of her.

Eyes shifting from the girls, Sugar paused to study the other pair - a grungy looking fellow, who appeared to possess the desire to be anywhere, literally, but where he currently was. She imagined this wasn’t on purpose, and that he just possessed it by natural… uh… charm… but regardless, the state of his suit and stature gave her the impression this was likely his first time in a circus quite of this calibre.

The other man hovered near the food table, scruffy, but not dirty… a cautiously ordinary looking man, despite the tiny… (was that a cat?) thing poking out of his pocket. They seemed fascinated by the spread, and Sugar couldn’t blame them. Even she was a little floored by the plethora of fresh, delectable looking treats they had been provided…

Approaching the table, idly fiddling with a stray strand of hair, she looked at the fruit tray and breathed in, but she made no efforts to sample the buffet. A healthy dose of paranoia rang in her gut that overroad whatever curiosity and hunger might have lingered.

The Devil’s cow gave damn good milk… but was it worth the price of your soul for a glass?

“...Oh no… Are… are those strawberries?” Her eyes fell to the bright red globes and a groan escaped, “...There had to be strawberries…”
 

WingWong

Edgepeasant
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, A Few Posts a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Tends to change frequently, due to working retail.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Bit of both, depending on the situation
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Urban Fantasy, Dystopian, Futuristic, Superheroes, Modern, Crime-related, Apocalyptic, Post-Apocalyptic, Supernatural
Romance as a side-plot
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm not into Furry rp
Romance as the main and only plot.
Mazryn "Maz" Faor
Location: Skytrain
Interactions:
Linreyus CloudyBlueDay CloudyBlueDay , Aryel Khryses Khryses , Mondei Sairento Sairento , Beia Mobley Eats Mobley Eats , and Sugar Elle Joyner Elle Joyner

“You know it’s a great opportunity, right?”

Her father stared back at her through the holocomm vid, smiling even through the pain. Smiling at her even as he laid in a hospital bed, bruised and bloody. Smiling as he was healing, even though it wasn’t enough to mend him. One eye was swollen and nearly shut, dark mottled purple and yellow beneath the skin. The open wound, the split in the other side of his face that was also dark with bludgeoning, was no longer crusted with blood, though. It looked better than it had, already having stitched itself shut to some degree since she’d seen him last. It was a stark reminder of reality though, seeing her father bruised and beaten, even as he was still smiling through it.

“Yeah, I know,” Mazryn replied, her eyes lingering just a touch too long on the bruising around his eye. It was too soon. Far, far too soon. It had been only days since he’d been attacked, only days since one of the brightest beacons in her life had dimmed. He was still smiling, but she could see it. The pain, the strain behind his face. She’d seen the fear, too, when she’d first checked on him after the attack. He was scared, for himself, for her mother, for her. He had every right to be. It had only been weeks ago that her mother had narrowly avoided a similar fate.

Staring at her father’s expression, at his bruised face, she felt her heart clench. How could she leave?.

Staring at the hope, the pride, the relief in both her parents’ eyes though…

How could she stay?

“And you know what we say about opportunity, right?” he asked, eyes crinkling at the corners, that pride still glistening in his eyes. Or maybe it was tears. Maybe it was both.

“When given opportunity, why squander it?”
Maz said, with her own small sliver of a smile. Their little family motto. What a blessing, what a curse. It had guided her to make the most of everything she had. It had guided her parents when they saw a chance to help. It had led to her mother’s rising paranoia. It had led to her father in the hospital. It would now lead to her leaving behind everything she’d known. For a moment, the adventure wasn’t quite so tempting. The thrill was not quite so alluring.

Not for the price she had to pay.

Still, she couldn’t stay. They would find her, hunt her down. She would be next. Imagining the sort of pain on her parents’ faces then? That was worse than even this, than seeing the man she’d once thought invincible on a hospital cot. Than seeing the fear in her mother’s eyes, when she’d never seen such a thing in her before.

“That’s it,” he said with a nod, slow as he winced at the movement. Maz swallowed.

“I promise I’m going to visit you before I go,” she said. One last time to burn their faces into her memory. One last time to hold on to everything she could before she left all the rest behind.

~

She did visit, just as she promised. On the day before her departure for Sanctuary, there were just a few hours between her and her parents as well as the tears they shed.

She spent the rest of her five days packing, or rather, packing and unpacking and re-packing again.

Vanity would not serve her well. She didn’t know the kind of world she’d be stepping into, the life she’d be living. Sentimentals and essentials. Those and those alone. It was why even on such a big day, she was considerably plain. Nothing flashy, nothing too much. That was the point, wasn’t it? To leave all she’d know behind? She wasn’t going to be Upper Class there, she wasn’t going to be a Faor to them. She was just herself. It was nice, in a way. Thrilling, terrifying. Just enough to get her heart pumping faster.

Just the way she liked it.

As she arrived at the station, she found herself packed quite lightly, due to that reasoning that she’d leave all her typical opulence behind. Only what she needed, only what she couldn’t leave behind. Of course, she found herself packed even more lightly when her bag was taken off her hands and after far too many scans of her implant, the stabilizers on her back, and the small device in her chest near her heart, she was herded towards the train.

She took her time, feeling her way through. Her fingertips grazed along the outside. She was cataloguing, memorizing, learning what was available to her. If one were to look closely, they might see the faint orange glow of the stabilizers on her neck, just above where her jacket covered.

Fingers still grazing against everything in reach, she stepped into the car, only to find several others there. Her eyes ran over them all, taking notes. Two men, three other women, and…

A cat.

Okay then.

Furry creatures she had a sudden urge to touch aside… She gave a curt nod of acknowledgement to Linreyus. She otherwise left him alone. He seemed prickly, and if he wasn’t in the mood to talk, it wasn’t like she was going to make him. She’d leave him to his seething, thank you very much.

Her attention turned to the other four- five?- and took swift notes there as well. Quiet man with a cat? Check. Girl stuck so far into her visor someone would have to pry them off of her? Check. Seemingly nondescript lady? Check. Resident dorkasaurus? Check, and the second had just arrived.

She approached the tables piled high with food, steps as light as she could manage in her boots. The closer she got, the more she could hear. And she heard… rambling. Lots and lots of rambling.

She listened as the girl stuttered on.

And on.

And on.

She was trying not to smile, forced to bite her lip to reign it in. Good to know she wasn’t the only one a little nervous here.

“Any recommendations for what to try first?” she asked after a beat as she finally came to a stop near them, though the question was directed at no one in particular. She blinked as one of the women made a comment on strawberries.

“…What’s wrong with strawberries?” she asked, brow furrowing in confusion. What was she not understanding?
 

KatSea

Skittish Beaver
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day
My Usual Online Time
Generally online in the afternoon eastern time
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
More passive but am decently comfortable with leading.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, mystery, magical, modern,
Genre You DON'T Like
Dystopian, Survival stories,
Tallowyn Izorti - Location Skytrain



"Hey Wyn sweetie! It's me again so uh, yeah I figured i'd let you know that I love ya. I know you aren't up yet so I left this for you~. Er, I have a feeling you've deleted most of these by now but I just wanted to make sure you heard this before I left this morning. Make sure you check in on Koni and Bowin sometime today...both those old coots really tend to make a hassle if their cramped up house isn't any less crowded. My goodness, it's like a whole nuclear explosion there! Er, sorry for running long sweetie, I'm surprised you haven't woken up. Man...you sure are a sound sleeper. Wouldn't have you any other way Tallowyn! Just...sleep tight. I love you. Little light of my life..."

"Hey Wyn sweetie..." Tallowyn's thumb rested lazily over the jukebox plastered against his skin, nail gently thrumming against the command to stop the audio clip that had been left to him. He wasn't sure how many times a day he'd end up listening to it, her gentle hum bouncing in his skull, a boisterous and agonizing reminder of the significance that resided within the recording. Keeping his head lowered over his arm, eyes glazed over as temptation threatened to flood his system. He didn't know if the decision he had made was the right one, the email having popped up as if from a deity themselves, promising him salvation in a safe haven, one in which surpassed the superficial prison, guarded by walls of marble and silver. It had not been his direct wish, but there was something to the message, to a promise of sanctuary beyond what Wyn had known. For that, Tallowyn was a man of great gratitude, humbled by a proposition that only so many could have possibly hoped to receive. Guilt would nibble at his stomach, that perhaps there was someone out there besides him who deserved it far more than he did. His life had been comfortable, after all, lathered in nourishment that could rightfully be considered as food, shielded by economic stability and a hope for a new day ahead.

But Tallowyn knew that remaining within the walls of his home would have only driven remaining stability into the ground, leaving a mound of a pathetic puddle of Wyn's self esteem and sanity in its wake(in retrospect, Wyn supposed this wasn't the worst thing in the world, just as long as no one was forced into a slip and slide with it.) Doubt removed from his mind, Wyn took five days to prepare, to gather what little he wanted with him, forsaking several articles of clothing, familial possessions, and even a few technological items he would have preferred to watch ignite into a firework of beautiful and electrifying arrays of burning metal. But, Wyn would hold himself from such vile actions, huddling himself into the train without fuss.

Thus, he reclined, hovering over the augmentation on his arm as the message became more and more prevalent with each hike of anxiety that accompanied the trip ahead. A gentle grumble would intrude upon his thoughts of home, his eyes flickering down to meet the messenger of such a distress call. Placing the palm of his hand to his stomach, his cheeks puffed in a pout and he recalled that he was, indeed, required to take care of himself. At least somewhat. Er, as much as he could. Food, then. There was plenty of that here, almost to the point where memories of poverty withered into fever dreams, vivid but false in nature. Mouth watering in excitement, Wyn hopped to his feet, eyes briefly glued to the augmentation on his wrist.

"Promise ya I won't delete..." Patting his wrist affectionately, Wyn strolled over to the array of fellow refugees, red flurrying at his cheeks. God...why is everyone so freaking pretty?! It's just not fair! You think adaptation would help me with this... Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, he slinked past two girls to pick a strawberry from the plate, merrily popping it into his mouth. "Mm, nature's candy my dudes!" He greeted cheerily, color flooding his cheeks before he scurried behind, picking and prodding as he chose, hearing one introduction with no context behind the name. "Cool beans Beia!" He cooed, sneaking past to grab another fresh fruit from a plate, happily popping it into his mouth and letting his eyes flutter back as the fresh juices popped against his tongue.

Hey Ma! Good day today too! God...you should try strawberries sometime...tastes like a mini heaven disco party on your tongue. Er, and is sweet and tart, I don't think divine disco has a specific flavor...
 

Khryses

Edgebabby
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous
Aryel Jaffe
Location Skytrain

Aryel couldn't help it, he had to smile an odd half-bewildered smile at Beia's antics he was sure - he was almost sure - that she didn't mean any of it, she just came off as the addled love child of an out of control hovercar and one of those little sprite virtual companions they gave you in the VR tutorials.

Not that he'd had much experience with VR, he was kept busy enough living in this world without extending his remit any further.

Looking back at the woman lost in giddy raptures at the fresh food, he discovered to his dismay that he'd inadvertently drawn the searing acetylene torch of her attention. Or not him so much as, "Moppet?" At the naming, the inches-long feline came off his collar and padded down his outstretched arm to the food table, where his human broke a warm chicken drumstick away from the whole bird and placed it under his nose. The nanocat seemed stunned by the gift of as much cooked meat as his own body weight, and batted at the crispy skin a couple of times, knocking around the leg before sinking his teeth into the head and beginning to gnaw.

"...yes he's a boy cat. And I am a boy. A man." Usually reserved outside of people or subjects he knows well, Beia's awkward gift has managed to tug him well off balance and catch his smile still half-clinging to his lips. "Aryel," he finally offered, along with his hand. He kept one eye on the little cat, the other turned to their digitally enlightened companion as he arched a brow quizzically. "And you are?"

He was aware of the others coming to join them at the food table, and despite his discomfort offered them both a nod without challenging them for the strawberries. Instead he took a steaming hot fresh-baked bread roll, sliced it open and squeezed a tab of fresh butter along its inner warmth. The golden smear melted almost immediately, and he lifted the roll and took a large bite of the delicious roll with evident relish.

And stopped.

"Ng-aye?"

He swallowed.

"Potate?"

Mobley Eats Mobley Eats Sairento Sairento @Moppet (And some casual nodding and strawberry-yielding)
 

Elle Joyner

I guess...
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day
My Usual Online Time
8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
Writing Levels
Prestige
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Probably a mix. When I GM I tend to prefer mostly aggressive, but with input from my players. I like to offer ideas and receive them. I don't like when people just take the reins and run with it though...especially in a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Genre You DON'T Like
Anime. Ever. Just not my jam.

Smut. Romance as a main plot. Horror. Grimdark.
SUGAR
TAGS || CloudyBlueDay CloudyBlueDay , WingWong WingWong , KatSea KatSea

The crowd was ever-growing around the mountain of food, as another woman arrived. There was a quality of effortless poise and majesty to her that reminded Sugar of the Upper Tiers. Madam, no doubt, would've salavated... But then, Madam usually took what she wanted, anyway and... And the stunning woman had asked her a question. Dear God. What had Madam been thinking, choosing her for this...

"What's wrong with... Oh! Nothing. No. They're my favorite." It was a little embarrasing to admit, considering more than likely, most of them had never tasted a fresh strawberry till now. Because nothing made blending in easier than a flashing neon sign over her head that screamed 'upper class'. But then... She hadn't always been. It had been years since she'd been home. Home. She wasn't supposed to call it that, but she still did. She always would. The Hanamachi would never be her real home, though she supposed that didn't matter much, now. God. She missed them...

Hindsight was twenty/twenty, and regret was a deep wound that didn't scar.

Hell... She was getting edgy over strawberries. Madam would love that.

Decidedly not in the mood for retrospective analysis, she tucked that particular thread of thought away, before it unraveled entirely. As yet another newcomer dove into the fray, she turned instead to the man seated alone in the dingy suit and a frown found her lips. There was a good chance he wanted to be alone... A good chance he liked being alone...

Oh well...

Smiling, she crossed the small distance between buffet to man, "Hey. I'm Sugar. You should come join us..."
 

Sairento

-Not my art. Never my art. I can't art very well.-
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Mostly Passive
Favorite Genres
Mostly everything.
Genre You DON'T Like
Can't think of much. Really depends on who I'm writing with, to be fair.
Mondei Dai - Location Skytrain - Interactions Mobley Eats Mobley Eats Khryses Khryses WingWong WingWong

"B3eze3: Aw she's shy!"
"n3rdB013Thousand: Cute!"
"JuicyLucy69: Ask her out!"

"You guys say that every time I meet someone," Mondei mumbled before clearing her throat as she listened to Beia's ramble. At least she was enjoying the food. And if she understood anything from the rambling, Beia seemed to at least think she was pretty. Unless it was a scathing insult. Hopefully it was a proper pause between 'Pretty' and 'Shit'. Giggling slightly, she stuck out one hand to the bumbling girl even after she'd shifted her focus to the cat. "Mondei. And Mind. Blown," she said, mimicking Beia as she said it.

"Nek0Neko: OMG IS THAT A CAT!!!"
"CATastrophicM3ower:3: OMG PET IT!"
"Pussyfax420: Is it real? There aren't a lot of cats around…"

Mondei blinked for a moment before focusing the camera on the small feline, watching in almost awe as it ate at the chicken leg. "As real as it can be," she mumbled, bending down slightly to get a better look.

"Nek0Neko: IttyBittyKittyCommittee unite!"
"420cheezits: Wait, nevermind the cat. Was that Mazikeen?!"
"Kiss_my_axe: You mean Mazik33n!"
"69funtimes: Turn, give us a better look."

Grumbling to herself, Mondei spun away from the tiny cat. "Look, the chances that Mazikeen is on this train too i…" she said, cutting off her words after she turned as she slowly looked up. "…oh my god."

"FoxyRoxyMoxie: AMAZing Mazik33n!"
"thot_patrol: MAZIK33N-SENPAI!"
"OKstupid: SHE'S MAZmerizing!"
"Suck_My_Glock: omg get her contact!"

Mazik33n. An utter god of a VR player just a few years before her own rise to fame. Some of the more popular topics among her fans was who would win if they fought against each other. Of course she was compared to other VR players, but Mazik33n came up more than most.

Eventually picking her jaw off the floor, Mondei took a deep breath before walking directly towards the slightly older woman. "Are…are you Mazikeen?" she said. "You are, right?"
 
Last edited:

Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A bit of both, lean more towards passive.
Favorite Genres
Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Mystery (I like them, just not good at it)
Beiatrixx "Beia" Kolekouskee | Location: Skytrain | Interactions: (Gawking at) Mondei Sairento Sairento , (Bombarding) Aryel & Moppet Khryses Khryses , (Drooling over) Maz WingWong WingWong


Okay. So. Huh... A-a lot more people were showing up. Which was fine. Totally fine. Beia didn't misjudge the temperature within the car as the equivalent of a blowtorch or anything--nah! And there was no way her sweat output had doubled to the point of where she could squelch inside her own shoes. And she didn't--definitely not--struggle to hear the people around her due to the blood pounding in ears.

Bumpkis! Rudimentary! Inconceivable! She was perfectly, one hundred and sixty nine (ha!) percent fine--

"Moppet?"

Oh thank God something to ground her.

"...yes he's a boy cat. And I am a boy. A man." A pause. "Aryel."

Beia latched onto Aryel's voice with near desperation, visage carefully bubbly as she nodded. Yes. Yes. Mhm. She was listening. Totally. It all made sense to her now. Fuckshewasfailingtoprocessanything.

But then Aryel's hand extended and she had enough common sense to realize he was returning the handshake. Quivering, she grabbed his hand with both of her own, internally praying that he wouldn't mind the dork moisture violating his palms, and gave a skittish shake before letting go. "Cool name! It's like... Man, I don't even know how to put it! C-cute? But manly? Err, n-not that I mean to, like, downgrade your manli-tude or anything! You're def manly! Got the beard and shiz going and everything! Ace! Top notch! Full man, yep! Yep and I... W-what was I...?" What was she even talking about beforehand? Think, Beia, think! Don't blow this, you frickin' fart cloud on legs! Lips disappearing into her mouth, she decided to throw the previous conversation to the wind and shot Aryel two finger guns with an awkward wink to boot. "Anyway, nice to meet'cha! Keep it cool and nobody's fool, kay? Cool? O-of course you will."

Cue nervous laugh.

"Uh... cute cat. I. Would. Literally. Throw my life onto the table," She drooped dramatically onto said table, an obnoxiously loud thud making the piece of furniture quake dangerously, followed by the tiniest and faintest crack... Beia cleared her throat. "O-onto the table... for this little guy. He's so cute and fluffy I could die." She found herself so worked up from Moppet's cuteness that a single tear bit at her eyes, only for her to blink it away in the nick of time and continue flashing that dopey smile. Jeez. Emotional much, Bee? Do I need a timeout soon? Frick... hope not. Not now. Definitely not now.


Her eyes brightened. "Oh--dude! Okay, okay. So." A pause to gather her thoughts. "This shiz right there? That be a potato. Oranges of the dirt or something like that? Yeah. Pretty sure. A potato is lumpy and shiz. Kinda the color of dirt. So, like, whenever you feel all lumpy and ugly duckling and shiz, you're practically a potato! So when you are in the act of being a potato, you're potating!" Pride practically rolled off her in waves, happy to teach Aryel everything she knew about self pity--I mean her odd slang.

Whatever further lessons she had prepped cleared her mind the moment Pretty Purple also offered her hand for a shake. Luckily, Beia had dried off most of her nervous juices onto Aryel's hand, so she wasn't quite as clammy as before when she grasped the girl's hand. Small. Softer than hers. Cute. Fuck. And still very fucking pretty. This was really fucking bad. Beia snatched her hand away the earliest moment she could, as if she had touched a scorching hot surface, and nodded at Mondei. "Double Dope name," she chuckled sheepishly, "By the way, uh, m-my bad about the pretty purple shit spiel. I get..." Red flooded her face as her voice dipped into a jumble of nonsensical syllables, "I get really nervous around pretty girls so please ignore my stupidity tis the best for everyone."

And as if her situation couldn't get any worse... more pretty people. A tall, dark and powerful goddess had strutted up to them, followed by this adorable doll of a woman with freckles for days. Oh God. O-oh God... Halp.

Beia went straight back to wheezing.

Arms folded and curling into herself like a turtle pulling back into its shell, she slid down ridiculously low into her seat, uttering nothing more than a weak whimper. She nibbled on a piece of chicken with her eyes closed. Hey, at least this way, she won't have to take in all the dismantling beauty around her and accidentally swallow her own tongue in the process, right?
 
  • Haha
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: KatSea and Khryses

WingWong

Edgepeasant
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, A Few Posts a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Tends to change frequently, due to working retail.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Bit of both, depending on the situation
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Sci-fi, Urban Fantasy, Dystopian, Futuristic, Superheroes, Modern, Crime-related, Apocalyptic, Post-Apocalyptic, Supernatural
Romance as a side-plot
Genre You DON'T Like
I'm not into Furry rp
Romance as the main and only plot.
Mazryn "Maz" Faor
Location:
Skytrain
Interactions: Sugar Elle Joyner Elle Joyner and Mondei Sairento Sairento

Mazryn blinked as Sugar registered her question and answered. “Oh,” she said after a beat. If it was her favorite… then why had she noted their existence here with such dread? Surely if it were her favorite…

She internally shook the thought away. She’d admitted a long time ago to herself that there would be people she didn’t understand, and to try to do so, to try to get into their head, wouldn’t often be welcome. She had to leave people to their secrets, even if that nagging curiosity in the back of her head begged her to explore more. She’d just have to watch and wait. Patience and observation. She could do that. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to scare off the people that had been so friendly up to this point.

She was struggling to come up with an adequate response beyond ‘oh’ when Sugar’s attention turned away towards the man sitting down several seats away. That worked. This was fine. She could work with that. She just had to let it happen. It’s all good, allllllllll good.

Her gaze flicked over the rest of Mount Food. Even with her parents’ occasional splurging for items that weren’t Packets and baseline meals that Upper class could often easily afford, she’d never seen such a spread before. Picking a favorite amongst this felt impossible, and choosing a starting point, even more so.

She was considering pulling away from where the rest of the group had gathered, to give it her best shot though. She was also growing more and more aware of just how many people were here- another man had joined them. Feeling a need to put just a touch of distance between herself and the growing throng of people, she’d almost turned away to investigate the food elsewhere. Right up until someone had approached her with the stars in her eyes.

“Are…are you Mazikeen?”

Oh. That’s right. That was a thing. Whoops.

Was it possible to forget how much time and effort she’d put into being the high-level VR player she’d been? Because if it was, she’d definitely just done that, right until now. In her defense though, VR had been the absolute furthest thing from her mind in the past few months.

“You are…right?”

Right. Talk to the girl. Speak. Don’t just stand and stare.

Maz’s brow rose in surprise at the recognition, just a few beats of silence following as she remembered how to be a social human being again. “I am,” she admitted with a nod and a small smile. “Though I have to admit, I haven’t been called that much in a while.”

“Mazryn, but uh, call me Maz,”
she added, extending a hand to Mondei for her to shake. Her smile grew a little larger and quite a bit warmer, even as it turned a little sheepish. “I… haven’t been on much lately. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with you. Would you mind helping me fix that?”

Smooth. Super smooth. Metal-on-the-outside-of-this-Skytrain smooth.

She’s got this. For the most part, at least.
 

Khryses

Edgebabby
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous
Aryel Jaffe
Location Skytrain

Mondei - as the digitally adept woman seemed to be - seemed courteous enough on the face of it, but no sooner had she introduced herself than she leant in examine Mogget with an alarming focus. The nanocat was still in the throes of chicken-induced bliss and was largely oblivious, leaving it to Aryel to bridle on his behalf.

The man didn’t actually hiss, but he gave the woman a flat look and opened his mouth- just as her attention abruptly switched to the strong-featured dark-skinned beauty approaching from behind. He closed his mouth again as the babbling brook beside him overran her banks and listened with detached interest to her explanation. Yep, very educational.

So that was potating.

Moppet stuffed himself on fresh-baked chicken, ignoring the silly antics of Human Friend and all the other strange humans clustering around the table. When he started to feel sated, another interesting scent caught his attention and he rolled easily to his feet and pushed the abandoned chicken leg off the table and onto the floor.

Padding along the line of the table, he shouldered his way past a plate of spiced tomato wedges, past a series of clinking bubbly flutes until he found a tall container filled with pure-smelling water. Rearing up on his hind legs, he pressed his forepaws to the top of the container and leaned in to drink with a rapid tongue-flicking motion.

Flick-flick-flick-flick… his ears coming up as he sensed someone coming up behind him.

Aryel was only vaguely keeping an eye on his Moppet right now, he’d grown increasingly focused on Beia and seeing her folding in on herself in her seat sent a shadow of concern through him. He picked up a plate and filled it with bite-sized chicken pieces, a pair of coconut jellies, a handful of fresh raspberries still gleaming with dew and a glass three-quarters full of ice then set them all before her silently while her eyes were closed.

Giving her the peace she seemed to desire, he wiped the odd moisture from his hands onto a cloth then walked over to listen to the smaller graceful young woman, Sugar apparently, speak with the unhappy man who was there before any of them arrived.

Mobley Eats Mobley Eats - Beia (care package)
KatSea KatSea - Wyn (Moppet opportunity)
Elle Joyner Elle Joyner - Sugar (listening in)
 

Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
Muidraw jabbed the seat in front of him, and felt comfort in the ‘dun-dun-dun’ from his strikes. They came quicker than usual, him having relinquished his weighted jacket. He had almost lashed out when security began procuring picks and steam knives from the jacket’s obscene multitude of holsters -- they'd eventually resort to taking the whole damn thing -- but in the end relented. Ostensibly, he had been swayed by their assurances that Sanctuary was not a place where the trifles of ballistic armor and close quarters weapons were required. In reality, Muidraw had decided it was best not to chance it against Elite-hired cronies. Not without his brothers and sisters.

He had cast them off as well, all for this little excursion.

But what a fight it would have been, had the right opportunity arisen. A clan of Takym’s bravebloods against a pack of glorified Big Bux Co. wage-slaves. They’d rend those soft-skinned, posh-speaking gentle men asunder, and holler like animals over their broken porcelain forms. They’d trim the fat off of pompous elite scions with cutting torches and drown them in the ensuing liquefied mass. It would be glorious.

His jabs had grown quicker, harder, and the indent in the plush seat-back was slower to correct itself. Muidraw was getting too restless by far. He heaved himself from his seat and stomped towards the dining car. Apparently, that was the thing to do when you were affluent; eat when you were bored, restless, weary, heartbroken, or just in need of stimulation. The thought made him grimace, though not near as much as the realization that he’d so readily do the same given the opportunity.

He glanced at midriffs and necklines as he took the measure of the dinner car’s inhabitants. Young, everyone was young. Doubtlessly the cold calculations of Lyris’ actuaries disallowed elders from this supposed paradise. Muidraw scoffed aloud. His father, his grandfather, and his grandfather’s father before him were all far greater than these squalling brats.

Muidraw snatched a fistful of what the placard identified as ‘truffle gouda’, and absorbed the interactions of the dark-skinned girl Mazikeen and the waifish one via osmosis.

Eventually he intruded, restless. “You. You keep mumbling to yourself. Why?”


Interactions: Sairento Sairento (directly), WingWong WingWong (intruding on conversation)
 

CloudyBlueDay

consistently inconsistent
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays, Not Taking RP Invites at this Time, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
I check as often as I can.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Realistic/Modern, Magic, Scifi, Romance
Genre You DON'T Like
I am generally not a huge fan of RPing Fandom, but it can depend.
Linreyus Sephelos

Linreyus could hear the painful small talk of the dining car, and it only drew him to recede further into himself. Intent on staring out the window, seeing something that could not be seen, he continued to gnaw on his thumbnail, occasionally trying to fix his hair but to no avail.

This group seemed much more friendly than the last. It would likely be their downfall. Their chittering voices annoyed him, especially some high pitched, bouncy looking girl. Lin always thought Matrikt too many at a time. Too many variables, too many emotions. Too many — did thar bastard have a cat? Good lord. What was he thinking? What was Matrikt thinking?

It was then that a woman approached him. At first, Lin only offered her a sideways glance before his attention fell back to the window, but it took her speaking for his attention to be fully grabbed. A name like Sugar was already an indicator, but he had already been tipped off by her unimposing stature, her gentle and sickly sweet voice.

“Hm. Hanamachi.” Linreyus announced plainly, making no attempt to keep his observation to himself. That was quick. He would have thought perhaps Madam would wait a little bit, but no, the woman was rather adamant about what she wanted. Patient when it came to biding time, of course, but apparently she wasn’t interested in that quite yet. Linreyus surveyed Sugar a moment more, squinting as if looking for something, and then he turned back to the window.

“No, thank you. I’m quite alright right here.” He said plainly, folding one leg over the other and brushing off his suit, which exploded into a cloud of dust. Fantastic. He would be sure to thank Xytrine very kindly for this later.

Elle Joyner Elle Joyner
 
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Sairento

-Not my art. Never my art. I can't art very well.-
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Mostly Passive
Favorite Genres
Mostly everything.
Genre You DON'T Like
Can't think of much. Really depends on who I'm writing with, to be fair.
Mondei Dai - Location Skytrain - Interactions WingWong WingWong Aero Blue Aero Blue

Mondei frantically wiped her hands before she shook Maz's. "Mondei. Or well, iDemon, if that would be more familiar," she said, shaking Maz's hand for perhaps a few seconds too long before she pulled away. "I uh. Mostly play FPS or RTS games."

"B3eze3: Mondei and Beia! Beidei?"
"n3rdB013Thousand: Monei? Like Monet?"
"JuicyLucy69: Who's that."
"420cheezits: Nooo, Mazik33n and iDemon. Mazimon was been a thing since forever."
"Kiss_my_axe: Mazimon?"
"69funtimes: Sounds like a weird monster."

Grumbling at her stream chat, she tried to ignore it as she continued to talk. "It's amazing to meet you. I hear so much about you in VR. You're sort of a legend there. Do you think it's a coincidence they invited VR players?"

"420cheezits: Hey don't shit talk Mazimon! Have you even watched some of the stuff for them?"
"Nek0Neko: Does it include cats?"
"Suck_My_Glock: Some make Mondei a neko."
"Nek0Neko: Neko! Link me!"

"Okay that's enough of that for today," Mondei said, sighing as she prepared to close the stream, giving her farewells to her fans. She liked them, and it was heartwarming to know that some people were sympathetic to her cause (or just liked her gaming. Significantly less heartwarming, but any bit of attention helped), but when things turned more towards…fan related works, she did tend to get flustered. And she did not need that, not on her first day.

She needed to leave good impressions on the people in charge.

Glancing to Beia in slight concern, she would've made more of an approach before she was interrupted by the…well, one of the more fearsome looking gentleman on the train.

"Oh, I am, well, was, streaming," she said, the small floating camera next to her head folding itself back into the side of her visor. "Why do you ask?"
 

Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
Sairento Sairento

Muidraw’s teeth sank into three rectangles of truffle gouda at once. His mouth stopped numb as the cheese melted against his tongue, the act of chewing forgotten. It was a full-body taste that refused to keep itself simply upon the tongue, insisting on intruding upon the sinuses and the tear-ducts, making his nostrils flare and his eyes water. He held out his hand to bid Mondei pause as his windpipe seemed to contract against the overwhelming power of it all. He swallowed hard and shuddered, and backpedaled away from the cheese-table.

He cleared his throat. “Not near me, kid. Never near me.”

There was a possibility there, one that folded itself neatly into the girl’s visor. Outside eyes looking into the Sanctuary. Muidraw conceded that it was best not to completely alienate himself from her. “Do they got any packets here?”

Muidraw wasn’t dealing with this ‘flavor’ shit.
 
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Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Primarily Prefer Female, No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
A bit of both, lean more towards passive.
Favorite Genres
Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Mystery (I like them, just not good at it)
Beiatrixx "Beia" Kolekouskee | Location: Skytrain | Interactions: (Still Bombarding) Aryel & Moppet Khryses Khryses


Yep. Yep. Her eyes were closed. Beai was keeping these ocular bad boys shut. Now, if only she could figure out a way to do the same thing for her infinitely flapping mouth... Nah. Impossible. She was an self-deprecating optimist, not delusional. Nor a dreamer. Her dreams tended to get wonk as crap, so she tried her best to avoid the possibility of having those, whether her eyes were open or not.

Which they weren't. Still closed, by the way.

...She'd forgotten why they were closed to begin with. So, not seeing much harm in it, she granted herself vision once more and realized immediately that holy shiz--her spine must freaking hate her right now. This position she was in... It sucked total balls! Err. Cheese balls. Never any other kind of balls, thank you very much. That was just unsanitary to think about. Regardless, her back was aching, so Beia sat up slowly with a groan, lips pursed as she muttered to herself for the millionth time in her life, "Why are you like this, Bee? Get your fecal matter together."

Her gaze shifted back to the adorable Moppet, grinning as she watched the little tyke march his way throughout food heaven and knock a chicken leg to the floor. "Hey, Moppet? Where's all that food going, huh? You little black hole in a kitty in a pocket you~," she cooed before bending down to fetch it. Dang. Despite his size, Moppet did a damn good job munching off a porting of that chicken--very noice.

She decided to voice her thoughts. "Very noice." Before placing it back down onto the table. Eh, she knew the cat was done with it, but she still felt bad seeing any trash hit the floor of this expensive looking car. That was just mutiny. Sacrilege. Sinful. Err... enter intelligent adjective here. There. Perfect. Uh--no. Perfect wasn't an addition to the growing list of adjectives, it was just... Screw it. Beia's brain got off topic again.

"O-oh!" When Aryel's little gift finally registered in Beia's head, she couldn't help the flattery that skyrocketed within her and set her face ablaze into a shade of red darker than the raspberries he gathered for her. Chuckling sheepishly while ruffling her mess of chocolate hair, she beamed awkwardly at the man and said, "Thanks, Rye! You're, like, the total MVP--and we just met! Gah! I'm gonna have to pay you back s-somehow, someway, just you name it and I'll, err... f-fulfill it to the best of my abilities without jazzing all that shiz up with my permanent bad karma, kay?"

A brief pause. Her voice slowed down a tad with caution. "Y-you uh... you don't like to talk much, huh? W-which is fine! No judgement or anything! You're perfectly, like, perfect just the way you are and whatever makes you f-feel comfortable. Just, ya know, making observations and sturf. So... Yeah. No. N-not a big talker. Got it." And yet, another pause, but this one weighed down with realization as memory flooded her. Oh. Right. Gorgeous ass people. All around her. Previously--no, currently still panicking. Shit. Crystal rice on a beef-buffed heist. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Y-you're worthy of these goddesses' presence! You're okay! It's fine! It's fine. It's fine. It's totally not fine.

"H-h-hey, uh... Rye?" she wheezed lowly, "M-mind reminding me f-frequently that I'm not surrounded by d-drool worthy women?"

...Then her shoulder's slackened. Followed by a distant fog rolling over her expression. "Nevermind. Just ignore me. It's stupid," she muttered dully. Then she blinked. And the energy was back, as if something had flicked a switch. "Wait what was I on about?"
 
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KatSea

Skittish Beaver
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day
My Usual Online Time
Generally online in the afternoon eastern time
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
More passive but am decently comfortable with leading.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, mystery, magical, modern,
Genre You DON'T Like
Dystopian, Survival stories,
Tallowyn Izorti - Location Skytrain



Well, if gorging one's self and avoiding all possible human connection was unhealthy for one's psyche, consider the young man as good as a vegetable. Well, not as healthy nor as life sustaining as one, nor as appetizing to the human eye, but Wyn would accept the comparison until something more suitable came to mind. This way of living was fine for the moment, and he could not be more pleased than to savor the moment when sweetness invaded his senses. Even as his eyes threatened to flutter into the back of his head with no hope of return from his momentary bliss, a gentle fumble from beside him awoke him. Oh, well this was an opportunity to engage with another soul besides his own internal monologue! Prying one eye open with cheeks inflated, Wyn inspected the creature ahead of him with a tentative care that one might for a child in another's care. What could he say? Wyn got skittish when a little child wasn't being attended to on a timely basis. The creature before him was insanely small, something he could identify as a kitten, rare and precious in its own right.

What did his mama used to call Aunt Ri? A pissy old cat lady? He had a strong fear that his mother wasn't necessarily referring to cat as a creature...Another eye peeked open to clear his gaze and zone in on the target in front of him. Small, delicately, searching for hydration with a little bounce in its step. Oh this is the cutest thing I ever did see! And I've got freckles on these cheeks! Subconsciously drumming the palms of his hands against his cheeks to gain a gentle pink tint, Wyn inspected the creature and succumbed to a quick hum building at his throat. Fumbling with the augmentation splayed against his wrist, he pressed a small button against the metallic piece and watched as a small hologram splayed against the dinner table. It had been a small, red circle, occasionally flickering in and out of existence. Projecting from his wrist, Wyn slowly crouched to present himself as a smaller being, clearly harmless to the delicate, precious creature before him. He did not wish to scare the animal, and indeed was curious to see if it was willing to have contact with a man far too sheepish to glance up at the people before him, beautiful women, cute sputtering women, adorably distracted women...the dude who seemed to own the cat. He damn near pierced his lip attempting to hold back the airy laugh that wanted to make itself known.

Bad Wyn, bad! Jeez Louise, no wonder the only thing you are doing is talking to an animal that's rarely been seen on the face of the Earth. You, by some miracle, are able to speak to a rare, tiny, adorable creature. And yet, the probability of you growing a pair of walnuts has shriveled down into the negative territory. Wait...can probability even be negative? Dude! What happens if there is a negative one percent chance that I'll survive interacting with even this teeny, teeny cat? Dude...I wonder if it's actually got super sharp teeth, nah, it's way too damn cute for that. Then again, so am I, and I'd like to think Im rather ferocious....

Before he could spiral into the pit of equally self depreciating and high pride thoughts with absolutely no chance of return, he gained the courage to gently run his thumb along the creature's head, smoothing out its fur in a tentative, yet affectionate motion that he prayed would not result in razor sharp indents in his fingers. But then again, didn't ladies love scars? Then again, he shouldn't discriminate. Men probably dug it too...

Er, right. Befriending an ally that would be useful in his quest. Continuing the motion on the table, moving the dot from left to right, Wyn could barely restrain the smile that blossomed along his face. Okay this wasn't the worst idea in the history of man...man he's so freakin soft...

"Hmm, Hanamachi?" Wyn's color drained from his face at the unfamiliar voice, his thumb coming to a stop along the cat's cranium. Oh? Oh...Oh. Swallowing what little nerve he had left, he continued the gentle motion with his wrist to allow the creature a chance to continue to play. Er...oh dear. That was uh...man he thought she looked awfully familiar... Craaaaaaaaappppp. Okay okay. Er, least I'm not the only one who has at least one connection here...oh...oh dear. Uh, awkward? Is it awkward? Should it be awkward? No no no. She's wicked sweet, heh, like the name I may add but uh.... "Ah...hey there Sugar..." He breathed, nearly a squeak, averting his attention and again drumming his thumb gently along the cat's head. NO WAIT CRAP I INTERRUPTED HER TALKING NO GO NO GO. Nope nope nope that was rude that was rude hey there little kitty I think Im gonna refer to you as Phoof for a little bit because my brain is all scraggly to actually have the attention span to ask you for your give name cool cool. Deeeeeep inhale.

He slowly plucked another fruit from the tray below and popped it into his mouth. If I choke on this itll be the best, sweetest way to go. Wait not really cause I won't actually be able to taste it as Im suffocating for air. Wait, will I? Whelp, lets not experi...Freeeeak that was close.