MISSION 004 WRAP-UP

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: August 9th and going forward
WHERE: Returning to Etraya
WHAT: End of Mission 004 Log
NOTES\WARNINGS: N/A

⏵ there's no place like home ⏴ On the morning of August 9th, every Etrayan’s earpiece receives a message from Eos: FAIL or PASS in big, bold letters with no further context. Players are free to choose which response their character gets; if they were able to go through Moorecroft without letting on that they were from Etraya, or another city bubble in general, they will receive a PASS. Those whose identities as Etrayans were spoiled, will get a FAIL. This response has no bearing on whether or not they participated in the midnight breakouts, nor what condition they’ve managed to get themselves into. It wouldn’t be the first time some kids from Moorecroft tore up the town looking for answers, even if it is the first time in a while they’ve managed to get as far as they had and cause as much damage as they have. Regardless, any responses sent to Eos will bounce right back to the original sender, with a RECEIVER UNAVAILABLE error: it seems that, shortly after sending through their results, all of those from Etraya have been disconnected from Eos’ network, and reconnected to Aurora’s by the friendly companion bots stepping through another portal in the middle of Moorecroft’s park. They’ll offer waves of their hands, and usher everyone back to Etraya proper. They’ll offer explanations similar to what Aurora would give to newcomers arriving to those who were dropped in with Eos, as well as offer to assist them in getting settled in Etraya. The companion bots will allow Etrayans to step through the portal with items they can carry, minus the smaller android babies. If they insist, it will be explained to them that, much like the companion bots native to Etraya, these babies are meant to assist newcomers in settling, and they cannot take them from Eos. Welcome home. At the very least, everything looks normal on this side. ⏵ whispered secrets of the night ⏴ Or it seems normal enough. While previous excursions outside of Etraya have featured environmental changes, the city bubble now appears exactly as it had before everyone left. Buildings stand as pristine as ever, animals have been fed and cared for, and everyone is invited to return to their homes for a quick rest. But as you meander through the familiar streets and over bridges, an unsettling stillness clings to the air. The usual sounds of Etraya–the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the chatter from the companion bots– feel slightly off. Shadows stretch a little too long, lingering in the corners of your vision, and the light, although warm, seems to cast an unnatural tint over everything. It’s as if the city itself had been holding its breath in everyone’s absence. As days pass, the eerie stillness begins to ebb. The animals gradually resume their usual activities, and companion bots return to their routines, chatting with Etrayans as they wander the city and help set up new facilities. Yet despite the return of normalcy, a sense of unease lingers. The city feels different as if it’s been touched by something while you were away. There are no curfews on Etraya, unlike Moorecroft, but those who wander in the dark may be unable to help but notice that it almost feels as if something is watching you, waiting for you to let your guard down. Etraya appears to be the same, but something has changed, shifted. And it’s only a matter of time before that change reveals itself. Those who wander outside at night during their first several days back will feel like they are being watched, but will be unable to find what is watching them, regardless of the method they use to try and discern what it is. ⏵ sea la vie ⏴ The unsettling sensation of being watched gradually fades over the next few days. Etraya begins to feel more like the place you remember: slightly empty, but comfortably so. The weather shifts unpredictably, with cool breezes one day and almost stifling warmth the next. The companion bots, seemingly oblivious to any lingering unease, appear to be in full vacation mode. They spend a significant amount of time on the two small, sandy islands that are just south of the hospital, setting up for what looks like the perfect beach day. Chairs are arranged in neat rows, colorful towels are spread out across the sand, and a small shack has been built just off the side of the bridge that offers swimsuits and any other beach-related item that they could need - or most of them! The narrow river means surfboards are out of the question; instead, the bots provide massive tube floaties, perfect for lazily drifting down the currents. ⏵ polaroid pandemonium ⏴ Everyone receives an invitation to Corrine’s Cafe, along with a table number. The invitation may arrive via a companion bot delivering it to them physically, or as a direct message from Aurora via their earpiece. The invitation instructs them to meet at the cafe at a specific time and sit at a designated table. At each table, two envelopes sit in front of two chairs, each containing a collection of photos. These images capture significant moments from your history - events you may have forgotten or ones that have shaped who you are. On the back of each envelope, instructions for the task await: discuss the moment featured in the photo with your partner, and share what it means to you. Whether it’s a memory of a terrible ordeal, or one of your happiest times with your loved ones. The choice to participate is yours; however, Aurora and the companion bots make it clear that your place at the table is pre-reserved whether you show up or not - meaning, your photos may still be viewed by others, even if you decide not to show up. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ This log marks the end of their visit to Moorecroft! Characters return to Etraya on August 9th regardless of what shenanigans they were getting up to within the other city bubble. We'll be following up with the mission: breakout threads, as well as continuing to follow through with NPC threads and provide further information for those still participating in plotting. For any questions relating to the contents of this log, please use the mod queries thread. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

mod queries.

[etrayamods]

Polaroids

[hauntedsnowfall]

Are we assigned the person we must share our photos with?

[matermali]

Regarding what's watching Etrayans at night, would Vanessa be able to sense if it is similar or different from what lurked in Moorecroft?

[agoddessonce]

In the previous mission log, one of the mod responses I got to a weather-controlling question was:

She can try to control the weather wholesale, but it will only affect the area around her: a few acres at most. This isn't due to any powercapping, but because of how Eos is causing the rain.

Some questions from that and these mingle prompts..!
1. Will Storm still be able to control the weather on Etraya, or has something changed?
2. Is the "unpredictable shift of weather" on Etraya similar to how the weather felt programmed (by Eos) in Moorecroft?

edit: Also!! Are the dragons and snakes still around? (have the dragon's eggs hatched? c: )

Thank you, mods! ♥

Kate Bishop | Marvel 616 | ota

[notthatstraight]

⏵ there's no place like home ⏴(locked to the family)

[When Kate's earpiece went off, she'd been getting ready for work. There's a moment of confusion before she shrugs it off and heads to the kitchen for breakfast.

Maybe someone else has an idea about the message?]

Coffee.

[She's not very articulate before caffeine.]

⏵ sea la vie ⏴

[There's nothing like a day spent at the beach, so Kate can be found spending several days there. Lazing along the river on a tube, walking Lucky along the sand, or just enjoying the sun and the view from under an umbrella.]

All we need is some beach volleyball or a Frisbee and this would be perfect.

⏵ polaroid pandemonium ⏴

[Whoever comes along to join Kate at her table will find her already peaking at one of her photos. The smile on her face says a lot about the image she's looking at. It's obviously a good memory, or so it seems. She'll worry about the other one in a few minutes, after she greets her partner for the game.]

⏵Wild Card⏴

[ooc: add your own or let me know, and I'll write something.]

sea la vie.

[rowd]

( sam's not out in the water, but he is crouched low in the sand, a pair of black swim trunks and a ripped tank on rather than his usual leather jacket ensemble, and while he doesn't move to get himself up from the low crouch, he does whistle towards her. )

Where'd you find a dog?

( he loves dogs. )

Polaroid Pandemonium

[abit_ofboth]

[It’s very apparent from the look on Loki’s face that he is none-too thrilled to be forced to do anything, though really he sees the merit in at least meeting some new people. There seems to be a number of people around with powers, and he knows there are a couple of Avengers at least. Essentially, the kinds of people around that can possibly help him get home so that the Multiverse doesn’t actually fall apart.

Really, he just hates anything mandatory. He got enough of that with the TVA.

With his envelop clutched too tightly in his hands, he sits at his assigned table across from a young woman he does not recognize. His posture is prim and the mask on his face denoting his best ‘I couldn’t care less’ attitude. The truth is though, he’s rather terrified of what his pictures might be. He’s not who he once was, but he also is very aware that there are some who would not like him to forget his past.

Though he notes the smile on the young woman’s face and has a bit of hope that not everything in his envelop will be bad.]

I take it you got something good, then?

jessica jones . mcu . ota

[ebrius]

01. whispered secrets of the night

( she's usually the one that is doing the watching at night so having that reversed?

she doesn't like it. it's a new feeling too because she's been out plenty before while she's been stuck in this godforsaken place and she's never looked over her shoulder as much as she is tonight. it's disconcerting and it's really pissing her the hell off.

she even stops a few times and searches her surroundings but finds nothing. it's annoying. it's fucking frustrating. )

Okay, if you're there, come out before I break your face.

( it's not an idle threat. )

02. sea la vie

( you know who's not a beach person? jessica. you know who's there anyway? jessica.

but, she shows up in her usual armor of jeans, tee shirt and leather jacket despite the setting. she finds a chair and plops herself in it, pulling out the flask and tipping her sunglasses down over her eyes.

she doesn't really know what she's doing here but she's here. don't ask her to get into a bathing suit or go in the water. that will not be happening. )

03. wildcard

( i had major surgery just before the event so i wasn't able to participate and i'm slowly making my way back here with some general prompts. feel free to tag, everythings's ota and if you wanna discuss, find me at jortles for chatter. )

[morethan084]

[Unable to get her brain to shut off, Daisy wanders the streets late into the evening after grabbing something to eat at the diner. Her hands are in the back pockets of her jeans, and her body language is loose and relaxed. Which is far from how she feels mentally right now. Not only because of her thoughts, but the uneasy feeling of being watched as well.

Her body goes tense when someone calls out, but after a few seconds her brain catches up and she realizes she knows that voice.]

It's just me.

[Daisy explains after looking around and finding Jessica on the corner of the street she was just about to turn onto. Unaware that she's also experiencing the same feelings of being watched.]

02

[equivo]

[ Krouse wouldn't call himself a beach person in a habitual sense, but he hasn't had the opportunity to revisit the possibility in a while. If their hosts are going to be good enough to set all of this up for them, he might as well give it a shot.

Unlike Jessica, he's dressed for the occasion. He's not sure he made the right call. He's not strictly self-conscious about taking his shirt off, but his uneven t-shirt patterned tan isn't a great look, and compared to some of the physiques on display - he can at least take some comfort in knowing no one is going to be looking at him for long. There are more six packs on display here than there are at the Kwik Trip.

He's draped a checked blue and white beach towel around his shoulders anyway, his hands closed on it as he wanders up to Jessica bare foot and in black board shorts. It's a relief to have spotted a cynical port in the proverbial storm. ]

Now, I'm not an expert on sunbathing, but I've heard that it works better if some of the sunlight makes contact with your skin.

[ He teases, half-smiling. ]

02. { and see the children sport upon the shore / and hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

[matermali]

[ While she knows better than to feel any comfort with what Etraya offers, even with the fading sense of invisible eyes, it is difficult not to be drawn to the beaches now so designed to invite anyone who desires the sand and sea.

Well, it's a river, but one makes do.

If she takes notice of the flask when drawing up beside Jessica, it's with a subtle glance, before her attention turns to the water that teases at the shore. Vanessa is also thoroughly covered, although the elegant dress and coat that adorns her from neck to ankle is a stark contrast to the other woman's rougher jeans and leather. ]

Whatever it is that followed us back seems to have retreated for the moment. I can scarcely sense it now.

01.

[decohere]

[weirdly enough, Ava lives with the permanently unpleasant feeling of being watched at all times. comes with the territory of growing up in the captivity of an intelligence agency. so this? isn't all that unfamiliar, and Ava compensates by shifting herself invisible to enjoy her restless exploration of the new curfew-free environment in what she hopes will be relative peace.

she doesn't expect to be disturbing anyone else's, to have her presence called out. but the threat is met with a light giggle through the empty dark.] Oh, I don't think you're capable. [perhaps just a bit closer than the laugh was.]

Tim Drake | OTA

[mostdangerousbird]

[ Will be putting up starters as they occur to me or as requested. Hit me up at seemarierun if you want something special. Wildcards welcome. ]

Beach

[mostdangerousbird]

[ The bots aren’t sentient. They don’t have whims. Tim refuses to give them that much credit.

The machines didn’t simply wake up and decide it was time for a beach party. They were directed to do it, because someone wanted them at the beach.

Therefore, Tim is at the beach, because it’s all too suspicious that suddenly the riverside is stocked with everything that the beachcomber could want to lure them in. He’s already raided the shack for a white bucket hat, rashguard, swim shorts and an entire tube of zinc sunscreen that he’s bringing with him. It’s his now.

(If Echo wanted someone to fight sea monsters, they should have kidnapped Aqualad.)

He drops into a chair near the middle of row and begins slathering on sunscreen until he’s deathly pale. ]

You here to play lifeguard too?

➵ clint barton, marvel comics

[westcoasts]

( ooc— open + private starters below. if u have sth u wanna do or u wanna figure out a way to shoot the shit, just send me a pm or pp @ spandex! )

open, polaroid pandemonium

[westcoasts]

( it's not that clint can knows precisely why he's being invited to the cafe, but he can hazard a guess based off the last (first) time. the one that was "mandatory". this time, apparently, isn't, but it doesn't stop clint from turning up, primarily out of a desire to see what — if any — information is being shared about him slash him-adjacent.

the envelopes are opened as soon as clint arrives, the instructions entirely ignored. the first features a young adult of maybe nineteen, unmistakenly a teenage clint, clad in a questionable suede, fringed pant-and-jacket set, red bow in hand, a set of targets in the distance, in a— circus tent?

(yes.)

where clint is evidently the focus of the shot, the crowd visible clearly has its attention split, a handful of heads turned towards clint, while the remainder appear shocked and startled, focus spread in different directions. the implication would be a commotion going on elsewhere, one entirely unexpected, one that hadn't succeeded — at that immediate moment in time, at least — in catching clint's attention.

even if, based off the pinch of his brow and the curve of his lips, it'd appear he was at least aware.

and in the present, once the photo's been studied with critical interest, it's dropped with apparent disinterest. it's not that it wasn't a defining moment for clint barton — it absolutely was — but whatever bothered the clint barton of sixteen(ish) years ago clearly doesn't bother the clint barton of now. he's busy turning his attention to coffee (naturally) and a pastry. it's not particularly elegant, and it's only when crumbs drop onto the photo and the envelope that clint remembers there's something there.

right—.

he leans forward and over the table, attention sliding back to the photo for a whole ten seconds (maybe). )

I dunno, ( uttered around a mouthful of pain aux raisins. (he's charming.) ) —Think that was the day Iron Man ruined my show.

( ooc— v happy to write alternatives for this, just hmu, fam. )

Boba Fett | Star Wars: Legends | OTA

[shabuir]

i. whispered secrets

[ After the stifling curfew enforced in Moorecroft, perhaps it’s no wonder that Fett stays out later than usual upon their return to Etraya. It should be a bit of a relief to have the freedom to do that again—to patrol the mostly-deserted area surrounding his own home, without being harassed by bots or shoved back into an over-crowded, noisy house in the suburbs. It is a relief. So why can’t Fett shake this lingering feeling of unease?

It feels like he’s being watched—or, more so than usual. Fett figures Aurora is usually keeping tabs on them one way or another, but this feels different. Predatory, almost. Like something is waiting to catch him alone.

Which is why he’s here now, out in the woods between central Etraya and the Beviin-Vasur farm, leaning against a tree with seeming nonchalance. If someone—or something wants to confront him, let them. He’s not afraid of being caught alone. And, after the month he’s had? He’s not exactly afraid of a fight, either. ]

ii. polaroid pandemonium

[ By now, Fett has become accustomed to intermittently being called to Corrine’s Cafe for Aurora’s latest “game.” He doesn’t particularly look forward to it; the tasks themselves are often inane at best and actively annoying at worst. The only thing to be said for them is that they tend to be easy enough to achieve: trade a few beads, talk about some contrived topic, that sort of thing. And, at the very least, they’ve been more tolerable than Eos’s assignments had been in her insufferable game of house.

Thus, after receiving Aurora’s message, he shows up on time and finds his place in the cafe without confusion or complaint, sitting down and reading the instructions on the back of the envelope. ’Let’s get this over with.’

”Discuss the moment featured in the photo with your partner, and share what it means to you.”

Okay. So it’s one of those tasks: sharing about themselves, baring their souls—the kind Fett can stand least, in other words.

Time to see just how spiteful Aurora has decided to be. He pulls out a small stack of photos from the envelope and begins to leaf through them.

The first photo shows what seems to be a battlefield—an arena carved of red rock, strewn with broken droids and the bodies of humanoids and animals alike. In the foreground, a boy—Fett, a lifetime ago—crouches in the sand, a silver-and-blue Mandalorian battle helmet clutched in his hands, the dome of it pressed to his forehead.

This one, Fett was almost expecting. The sight of it stirs up the same old sense memories—the sand in his eyes, the cold metal against his fingertips, that all-consuming sense of utter desolation. But if it’s a painful memory, it’s also one he’s relived enough times in his long life that seeing a reminder of it can hardly shock him. He regards the photo for a moment, letting those old sensations fade back into numbness, then shuffles it to the back of the pile and continues onto the next.

The second photo is a mugshot. It shows him as a teenager this time, perhaps 17 or 18 years old, with brown skin and short, messy dark hair. The neck plate and pauldrons of his Mandalorian armor are visible and of the same make and color as Fett’s are now. There’s a grim set to his mouth that doesn’t quite meet his eyes—those are vacant, dazed.

Another bad memory. Fett shuffles it to the back of the pile, ignoring the growing pit in his stomach.

The third photo is difficult to make out. Most of the image is fire—engulfing the ground and snaking up the wet, red walls of the peculiar cavern where it’s been taken. One has to really look to see the figure in the image: curled up on the ground, burning alive.

Now that’s just rude, Fett thinks. The photo shows his escape from the Sarlacc, but in a way that makes it look like he may as well have died down there. Sure, he’d set himself on fire and broken most of his limbs in the process, but he’d gotten out. Nearly killed the damn thing, too.

And the last photo—

The last photo is something that Fett glimpses for all of a second before slamming it facedown on the table—which is, coincidentally, precisely when his partner arrives. As they approach, his fingers twitch around the photo like he wants to crumple it up. But he doesn’t.

There’s a tense, silent moment in which Fett doesn’t move at all. Then, stiffly, he nods at the envelope on their side of the table. ]

Instructions are on the back.

polaroid pandemonium

[tocastashadow]

[Shadowheart doesn't want to participate in this little game any more than she does any of Aurora's other little games. But if there are pictures of her that might be shared, she prefers to decide which and when and how rather than leaving that up to any nosy passerby who decides to go rooting around through the envelope at her assigned place.

She sits, flips the envelope over, and reads.]

Sharing again, is it? My, they really are keen to have us open our hearts to one another, aren't they.

[An idea she abhors.

Lowering the envelope beneath the edge of the table for privacy's sake, she pulls out the top picture. It shows two children, a tiefling and a half-elf, maybe thirteen or fourteen, smiling, holding hands, as one pulls the other through a small crevasse in a cave wall. There are flowers growing in the cave. Night orchids. It's...

Beautiful.

The tiefling is a perfect stranger to her. The half-elf might as well be too. Shadowheart recognizes her own features, but she has no memory of this moment. She has no memory of ever being so happy.

She hasn't got the courage to look any further.]

gorgug thistlespring, d20: fantasy high. ota.

[tinflower]

1; sea la vie

[ Gorgug comes to the beach hang-out mainly at the encouragement of (read: demand of) his friends. It's not that he's got anything against beaches, or having fun! But his problem is the one that is obvious to those who spot the half-orc at this get-together, dressed in a short-sleeved hoodie and swimming trunks and hanging around on a towel: he wants to be a fucking nerd with books. Books and notebooks and strips of coloured paper to keep track of pages of interest, and none of it ever on one subject, from boring simple engineering fronts to colourful woodwork glossy covers.

They start out all nicely tucked away in his bag at first, but hiding away where he'd rather his mind be becomes a forgotten task by around the time he's talking fervently with a companion bot. It starts off as a simple exchange that leads to the bot sitting next to Gorgug, and then the hands come out, an excited discussion taking place, that only dies down about the time that Gorgug has one of the bot's hands in his, turning its wrist and having a quieter conversation about....something. (????)

We promise, it's all nerd shit. Nerd shit that has Gorgug sketching out some kind of dome in a notebook. It's scratchy, not very artistic, but there's notes on garage, power source? lower floor jotted at the sides as a... floor plan starts to take shape. ]

2; polaroid pandemonium

[ But enough of being a nerd.

Gorgug comes to the café more eagerly than he did the beach, even without knowing what they're here for. He enters inside with a puzzled expression that follows him to finding his seat-- which, if another person is at the table already, he gives a grimace of a smile, looking down at his designated table, and says to the other person: ] Hi. This is my table too.

[ Hello. There's your most awkward greeting.

But if Gorgug gets there first himself, he sits down and takes the envelope, reading the instructions, and... waits, to see if his company will arrive before he opens it.

Curiosity gets to this half-orc, however, and he can't help but to dig into the collection there, eyes widening with bewilderment at what's in there. And what others will see if they happen to be passing Gorgug's table while he's examing the different images, are...

• What appears to be an orc baby in a metal cradle that's barely containing it, surrounded by two gnomes the same size as the baby.
  
• A (perhaps familiar) elven boy gut-punching a younger Gorgug in the middle of a school corridor.
  
• There is a forest, gnarly and twisted, dim and difficult to see much without a closer inspection. Blood drips from the trees like the splattering of rain, and it covers the ground where it dips down into a bog.
  
• Gorgug is with a girl, a bass guitar in her hands and a microphone in front of her. She looks passionate, intoxicated in the music that can't be heard but seen in her energy, and there's a Gorgug there, in the back of the photo, on drums.
  
• Gorgug is kneeling--now, with his white tuff of hair--on top of what looks like a van, or high enough where a horizon can be seen in the background, the sky coloured in reds. He's with what looks like a motorcycle, for the most part (and with less flames than in that image): trying to do something to the pipes, in the midst of what look like repairs
  
• The interior of a gnomish workshop--and truly, there's gnomes everywhere. Gorgug is at a workshop table (bent over, his head inches from bumping into the ceiling), tools set out on the table and a slab of rectangular crystal sits in the centre and appears to be what they're working on.

Gorgug's face is usually one of bewilderment, but all of these are definitely scrunching up his brow.

Later on, for those Gorgug knows, he might stop them if he happens to catch them--outside the café, or perhaps at the apartments. He isn't flagging anyone down, but speaks up to them in that way that one does when bumping into one another. ]

Hey. [ Hi. ] You see those photos they left at the café?

[ Weird, right??? ]

[ ooc: HELLO sorry for the 1st option being very closed off/very 'pester gorgug'-ish!!! I hope the second one helps to be more open. 😌 if you would like to do anything with Gorgug outside of these prompts, he can also be found checking out the different building locations around Etraya on random days if ur character "owns" that spot or hangs around there much.... or if u want to plot with Gorgug in general, shoot me a private message!! I am happy to make starters. ]

polaroid pandemonium—

[sow]

( in truth, ari hasn't decided whether he wants to cooperate with aurora and her objective for them. a part of him wonders why he was chosen to represent a world that hardly belonged to him in the first place. another part of him wonders if he can choose who to save from his universe.

it may motivate him to try harder.

in any case, he shows up at the cafe and sits across from a gangly green fella at his designated table. even with all six of his wings tucked away, ari is a spectacle to behold at the height of 7'2" and a left arm that's almost entirely pitch black. he picks up the envelope in front of him, a pair of silver eyes skimming over the instructions. )

I'm Ari. ( despite his gruff appearance, his voice is uncannily soothing and melodic, even as he rips the envelope open to extract its contents. ) What's your name?

Barnabas Tharmr | Final Fantasy XVI | OTA

[odinpusrex]

I. There's No Place Like Home (closed to household)

[As per usual, Barnabas is already up and getting ready for work. Checking the task board before hand to take note of what he needs to complete for the day, and what is left to be completed for the week. Of course he's awake well before most people, before the curfew is lifted, but as it is he takes that time to go for his usual jog. Though, by the time he returns, it's nearing breakfast time, which he has grown accustom to as a matter of routine to maintain their appearance as part of the populace here.

Cid should be rising, he assumes, and the children as well, and while he requires no sustenance of any sort, breakfast is still something that has become usual. Thus he pulls out his chair to thumb through the newspaper he picked up on his way back in. Awaiting his "family" to join him, unaware of their impending results.]

II. Sea la Vie

[While others might be enjoying the waters or what else the beach provides, Barnabas is not one to indulge so readily. He is dressed in his typical attire, which is decidely not fun in the sun clothes. Though he makes it no mystery he doesn't care about that, instead choosing to keep to himself and merely observe the others as they relax and play.

Still, it's pretty odd seeing this dude silently watching everyone, the intensity of his steely gaze is likely to raise some alarm bells. Leaving him be might be the ticket, or perhaps confronting him might prove the better move. It's hard to discern what he's planning to do, if this is all he plans to do. The fact he's standing next to the swimsuit shack doesn't help anything, certainly, now how he will cast a glance at those who approach it as if he's taking their measure.

Genuinely weird vibes all around.]

III. Polaroid Pandemonium, cw; death & partial nudity

[Once again this is something he would likely ignore otherwise, but given the nature of Etraya and why they are here, he has taken the invitation and arrived as is expected of him. It would be a lie to say that there wasn't a part of him that was curious about what this was about, though he would deny such curiosity if one were so bold to accuse him of it. Still, such denial does not stop him from taking the envelop in hand, opening it and viewing its contents.

It is...strange. Pictures of this sort are alien to him, being from a world far more medieval in nature, the closest they have are paintings and portraits depicted by an artist's skilled hand. Not a snapshot of some moment in time such as these.

The first is that of Barnabas and a young man who looks an awful lot like Cid if he were twenty some-odd years younger, though Barnabas looks almost exactly the same. Barnabas is offering his hand to him while Cid is sat upon the ground, a little worse for wear, as the environment around them shows the remnant burns of lightning strikes...as well as dead bodies strewn about. It is hard to tell what killed the various men, though the focus of the image is clearly on the two who are very much alive. This photo seems to bring a dour expression from Barnabas, muted though it may be with his prevalent stoicism. It is self control alone that stays him from destroying it outright.

The second is far less dramatic, though it seems quite intimate. The shot showing the back of Barnabas while focusing on the black haired woman who smiles down at him so sweetly, both of them nude from what can be seen. Unlike the photograph of him and Cid, Barnabas' expression eases into something softer and wistful, his hard gaze easing considerably as he gazes at the photo in silent regard. He seems far more interested in gazing upon it than following the instructions, hell, he might not even realize they're there at all with how enraptured he is.]

ii.

[equivo]

[ Krouse pauses on his way up to the beach shack when the towering man of many belts gives him an evaluative look, returning the favour with equally intent dark eyes. He could let it go. He probably should let it go. Nothing good can come of potentially starting something on a beautiful sunny day. ]

Can I help you?

[ But he doesn't like being eyeballed without knowing why, and what's the worst that could really happen? ]

FFXVI Spoilers in Polaroid Pandemonium

[levindicated]

Whispered Secrets

Cid has ever been a rambler and wanderer- And he was no fan of being forced inside during the night hours. It is as if his legs move on their own that first night. The sensation of being watched isn’t particularly unfamiliar, though it has his hand twitching for his sword.

Should you be foolish enough to approach him with his hackles up?

Lazy River Lounging

Eventually, things become normal again. Normal enough, at least, for Cid to strip down to his little speedo again and get into an inner tube. He takes a bottle of rum and balances a couple packs of cigarettes on his chest. He smokes cheap cigarettes between swigs of rum until he’s too drunk for that. He lays back, allowing the silhouette of the pack of cigarettes to sunburn into his chest. He eventually falls asleep, dropping the cigarette into the plastic and burning a hole into it.

The inner tube rapidly loses air and starts sinking.

Cid wakes up drunkly flailing in the current.

Polaroid Pandemonium

Cid would not miss this sort of thing. No. When Aurora put out an invitation, it was also a warning. He made sure to keep that appointment. And he was glad he did. There was too much good information about his fellow captives. Plus, he is anxious to see what might be revealed about himself and how he might control that information.

Are you daring enough to snatch up his envelope before him?

Revealed are images of the following: Cid holding a little blonde baby, Cid receiving a medal from some unknown hands, Cid bleeding out in the arms of another man with a cigar between his teeth, Cid passed out at a desk, and finally: the image of a…. wizard? Yeah, baby. A big wizard with fat pecs.

Polaroid Pandemonium

[topgradesandbraids]

Marcille was daring enough-- only because she snatched up both of them, and wanted to make sure certain bits of incriminating evidence wasn't in there. She had learned a lot about the so-called 'Modern Conveniences' in a short time, and was fascinated by the concept of photography.

However. She had been expecting a different spell caster with fat tits.

A deep blush rose to her cheeks and the tips of her ears at the sight of the mysterious wizard-- and, flustered, she shoved the envelope in question back towards the stranger.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaked. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just wanted a little warning before we talked about the stuff in my envelope and I didn't know which was which!"

Laura | XMCU | OTA!

[shoplifter]

⏵ whispered secrets of the night | around town ⏴

[Laura had felt something was off, when they returned to Etraya. She couldn't put her finger on it — and it seemed like nobody else could, either — but she still knew, deep down, that there was a shift while they were gone. Or maybe because they were gone? She's not sure. Either way, she finds herself restless as the days progress; she scales up the walls, watches from up high, tracks the other citizens of Etraya for any signs of distress (or, well, in case they're the ones causing trouble).

But there's nothing. Nothing but an uneasy feeling of being stared at. By who... that's the mystery.

Maybe they're always being stared at, though.

Anyway, sorry if she's watching you like a hawk from a high perch or tree. It's not terribly unlike a housecat watching a mouse: not necessarily dangerous, but inquisitive and ready to do some harm if necessary.

Also, at times accidentally sprinkling chip crumbs on people down below.

... Sorry.]

⏵ sea la vie | beach ⏴

[When the beach happens? She's a little awe-struck. It doesn't necessarily erase the unease she'd experienced before, but it sure does distract her. Immediately, actually. And at an opportune time: she has just started learning how to swim, thanks to Ororo's kind guidance. Not only that, Ororo had helped her pick out a suit, one that she hurriedly had gone to collect and put on.

... What? She's still a horsegirl through and through.

Putting her feet in the sand, she looks hypnotized by the sight. She'd never felt sand like this before, so fine and soft. Nothing like mud. Grainy, a little uncomfortable, but also nothing like the jagged, unpleasant stones on a forest floor.

After a moment, though, she curls up on herself a little. Her arms clutch her legs, pulling them close, and she watches the ocean distantly as the wind plays with her hair.

Then, she buries her face in her knees.]

⏵ polaroid pandemonium | corrine's cafe ⏴

[The polaroids Laura spreads out on the table are startling at first.

There are a few she recognizes were photos taken at one point, especially among the children; the image of her and Gabriela was something she faintly recollects, too. The others, though... those were not technically possible. Not really. Delicately, her fingers almost hover in their touch as they run along the different images. Gabriela. The other children. Charles and her father.

People from home. Complicated relationships from complicated people.

And not for the first time, an aching feeling of loss, especially once her eyes land on Logan's smiling face.

She didn't need the photo, to remember that one genuine smile.]



[OOC: Wildcard or starter in mind? Feel free to hit me up on simpledog!]

polaroids;

[agoddessonce]

[ The idea that whatever powers that be here have always been Watching them somehow is unnerving, but not new to Ororo. There are celestial and cosmic beings out there that can see it all, and know it all - so of course they had some sort of method of reaching out to see past events in their lives.

Some of it is startling - Ororo discreetly keeps any of the more violent photos inside the envelope that her pictures came in. But she takes one out to show Laura from her side of the table. ]

I have one of Logan, too. See?

Muriel | Good Omens

[cupperty]

Polaroids

[ Muriel has been pretty rattled since arriving back in Etraya; between utterly failing at appearing human in Moorecroft, and the creeping sense of unease they've felt since their return, getting an easy assignment, like sitting in a human cafe and chatting with someone, feels like a huge relief.

One thing becomes very apparent about Muriel's polaroids: they have a lot of them, way more than should reasonably fit in a couple of envelopes. Most of the photos look almost blank at first glance, but they're actually just near-identical pictures of a blindingly white open office, with ill-defined walls and a neat glass desk in the middle. Muriel is at the desk in almost every photo, sometimes clad in long white robes with a pair of wings folded behind them, but mostly dressed like they're a model from an Officewear Through the Ages catalogue. Occasionally another angel will make an appearance in the office photos, and while they never look thrilled to be there, Muriel looks delighted to have company. There's also a photo of a regular-looking matchbox, one of Muriel staring at two higher-ranking angels like a deer in the headlights, and the last has them in a cozy bookshop, nervously holding a cup of tea while getting a staredown from a traitor and a demon. ]

But... how did they sneak a camera into Heaven...?

[ MURIEL IS HORRIFIED, HOW DID THIS BREACH OF SECURITY HAPPEN! ]


Beach day!

... Oh.

[ Bodies of water, Muriel has learned, are wonderful. They haven't worked their way up to trying a swimsuit or - heaven forbid - one of those tube floaties yet, but they're taking in this new discovery with baby steps. They're currently crouched on the edge of the riverbank, trailing their fingers in the water and poking at the sand, looking utterly fascinated. ]

Are they all like this, back on Earth?


Wildcard
[ Anything goes! PM me or hit me up at sonopants for plotting or questions! ]

polaroids

[tocastashadow]

[Shadowheart is here because the only thing she wants less than to look at images of her past is for other people to look at images of her past. She plans to claim her envelope and leave immediately.

The top image she is of a family. A young human woman with dark hair, covered to the elbows in flour, stands at a counter brandishing a rolling pin over a ball of dough as she smiles at the elven man beside her. His eyes sparkle in the sunlight as he balances a young child on his hip: a black-haired little girl, with green eyes and pointed ears, grabbing at her father's hair.

They all look so happy.

She sits, transfixed, staring at the woman. Her mother.

And then the person seated across from her speaks, and her thoughts are wrenched back to the present.]

The heavens? [She immediately stuffs the pictures back into the envelope so she doesn't have to look at any more of them.] Are you a celestial?

Ororo Munroe (Storm) | Marvel 616 | ota

[agoddessonce]

whispered secrets of the night;

[ Ororo wishes she could say that it was nice to be back on somewhat familiar terrain. But as comforting as the Institute is, it's hard to ignore how unsettling Etraya now feels. This may not be Earth, but Ororo tries to maintain some kind of connection with the natural world around her, and upon their return, things feel... out of balance? Or at the very least, decidedly unnatural. It's not just the being watched, but even the atmosphere feels strange - and she wonders if she ought to do something about it. Should she be testing it? Testing herself?

So she can be found standing on rooftops at odd hours of the night - whether on the Institute, or other random buildings around Etraya. She isn't doing anything particularly noteworthy, simply studying the sky and the stars, peering into the distance where she knows Moorecroft must be. Other cities too, a little like theirs, housing people just like them, ]

polaroid pandemonium;

[ At Corrine's, Ororo sits at a corner table with her envelope of photos. She's unnerved at first, of course - who wouldn't be? There are a lot of moments here that she knows would have been impossible to capture on any sort of film. Some polaroids she resolutely keeps inside the envelope. But there are also some that she lays out on the table next to a cup of tea and a fruit pastry. It's either because she doesn't actually mind talking about these things, or she wants to get a closer look at them under the bright lights of the café. Some have writing, too, and that's rather... interesting. ]

Hmm. They even got the places in some of these right.

[ Like that's not invasive at all. ]

[ ooc: pick a photo, or try to sneak a peek at one she doesn't want to share! ]

[shabuir]

You're just... sleeping.

[ This said by the bounty hunter across from Ororo, whose own photos are being held out of view under the table. His tone is as inscrutable as ever, but that pause before the verb implies much: disbelief, perhaps, or exasperation. Maybe even amusement.

There is some amusement there, though of a rather grim variety. Fett's photos are comprised of such gems as him getting arrested and him lighting himself on fire... and she just has one of her sleeping?

Well, he's never been under the illusion that he's lived a particularly gentle life. He shouldn't be surprised that other's photos aren't as uniformly gruesome as his own. He says nothing more, simply waits for Ororo to explain why this photo of her sleeping is significant. ]

rosie | original | ota (just mind the cw's!)

[hasitsthorns]

❥ no place like home.
(cw: nsfw humor)

When Rosie was informed that she could keep items she could carry, it seemed only natural what she should do. Although doubtless she would be able to eventually acquire similar items in Etraya eventually, why pass up such a good opportunity? Domestic life on Moorecraft had provided some much needed stress relief. She wasn't about ready to let that go, so...

She stuffs a cute purse full of 'adult' toys and all the accessories she might need. Easily carried and no one needs to be any the wiser. Now, excuse her as she just tries to make a beeline for home. She will, of course, stop for any friendly faces that want to talk after the mission. But if she seems in a hurry or, uh, more anxious than usual- No, she doesn't!

Mind your business!

❥ polaroid pandemoinum.

Going to the cafe to stroll down memory lane isn't quite what Rosie expected to do today. It's not that she minds, really. At least, not the first envelope. That one has a happy set of memories.

The second one though is a bit more bittersweet.

First Envelope

❥ Each photo of Rosie in this set has her playing a guitar. The places, people, and details are always different in each picture. The only consistency seems to be her presence and music.

Second Envelope

❥ The first photo starts off innocuous enough. It's a picture of Rosie in the arms of a large, tanned man bridal style and posing with flair. On either of his side, he's flanked by a serious-looking man and another tall, lithe androgynous blond. They all have the same green eyes.

❥ The second photo is of her - dressed to the nines - and a redheaded man in a three-piece suit. Despite the way they smile at each other in the photograph, it feels off somehow. Wrong. Colder than it should be, maybe, for what's supposed to be an intimate moment.

( cw: sex work, sexual abuse )

❥ The third and following photos though are the ones that unsettle her the most. As soon as she sees one, she's turning it over quickly and stuffing it back inside the envelope so only an edge peaks out. Her head is dipped forward to continue looking over the two she has laid out thoughtfully.

But the true reason is so that her hair curtains her face and hides her misty eyes and pained expression. Clients taking pictures wasn't new so she actually isn't surprised that Aurora managed to get some; yet, it was one thing to live what she did but another to have the worst of it highlighted and made possible for all to see.

❥ wildcard/plot with me.

(( hi hello shows up two weeks late w/time horton's. anyway! here's rosie and her fucked up memories for you all. mind the cw's if you wanna' engage with that last photo prompt because it will get heavy in terms of the themes listed! if you have any other ideas or wanna' talk things out tho lmk @ tentamenace on discord/plurk! ))

☽ Polaroid Pandemonium - envelope 2

[hauntedsnowfall]

Dimitri was uncertain what he was in for when he got the summons to the Cafe. He's heard rumors about missions being more difficult than the one he arrived during, but upon entering Corrine’s Cafe he is admittedly a little disappointed. It appears to be just a regular facility one could obtain a warm beverage at. Which he will still acquire even if this isn't what he was hoping fore.

The nights in Etraya have been both easier and harder on Dimitri. It doesn't sound like his ghosts are ripping at the walls here, but also he's given exponentially more free time to do... nothing. Nothing but think. So, Dimitri has taken to preoccupying himself with trying to hunt that which seems to be watching in the night. Something is out there, and he isn't the only one who feels it. It feels dangerous which makes for a perfect task for Dimitri.

Rather than this assigned seating tea party, or whatever it is. Once Dimitri has a mug- a far sturdier cup to drink from of tea he makes his way towards the table he has been assigned. He doesn't recognize most of the faces in there, however he lucks out when finds Rosie there with her head bowed. Does she have a headache? Should I have gotten her tea? Regardless he is here now and it seems she isn't looking up.

Tapping the table twice with his finger, Dimitri tilts his head and asks, "Would you like me to get you anything to drink?" Thankfully he doesn't have to be the one to prepare the tea here. He wasn't the most skilled at it, being unable to tell with the drink had reached it's peak flavor.

lisa wilbourn | closed starters

[thinkerseven]

[ feel free to send a message to this journal or plurk @ moonlanding for plotting! ]

for riley grace davis

[thinkerseven]

[ It's not that Lisa has been avoiding the individual formerly known as Bonesaw. Lisa is well aware that Bonesaw is here, and has simply chosen to classify her arrival as an Amy Problem.

But as the dust settles from the last mission, Lisa figures she's migraine-free enough to pay Riley a visit. It's important for her to know what's going on among the representatives of Earth Bet, if only so she can anticipate problems brewing down the line. She wouldn't be doing her job otherwise, and she doesn't want to give Amy or Krouse more bullshit to be smug about.

The rendezvous - or, more accurately, ambush - takes place on the beach, Lisa sporting some comically large shades and a wide-brimmed hat. She marches right up to Riley, without any apparent guilt over interrupting whatever it is Riley is doing. ]

I figured now would be as good of a time as any to pay a visit. Should I ask what you're doing?

[ Tinkers love explaining their work. It's like a shortcut to a halfway-decent social interaction. ]

nuvia | original character | ota

[utinam]

SEA LA VIE

[Nuvia steps out onto the sandy beach, feeling the warm sun on her skin. Wearing her blue cloud-patterned bikini, she takes a deep breath, letting the fresh, salty air fill her lungs. The sight of the brightly colored towels neatly arranged chairs, and the cheerful atmosphere brought by the companion bots makes her smile.

Seeing the massive tube floaties bobbing gently on the water, her excitement grows. She can't resist the thought of lazily drifting down the river under the sun. Looking around, she spots a few people nearby, their faces lit up with smiles as they enjoy the day.

With a friendly wave, Nuvia calls out.]

Hey! Anyone up for a ride on the tube floaties with me? It looks like so much fun, and I'd love some company!

[She laughs, her mist-like hair catching the sunlight as it bounces around her. Her eyes are bright with anticipation, and she hopes someone will join her for this little adventure.]

POLAROID PANDEMONIUMM

[Nuvia walks into Corrine’s Cafe, her eyes scanning the room, slightly nervous about what she might find. The invitation had been unexpected, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was here. As she approaches her designated table, she notices the two envelopes, each one sitting neatly in front of a chair. Curiosity piqued, she carefully sits down and picks up the envelope assigned to her. Slowly opening it, she finds several photos inside.

She gently pulls them out, her eyes widening slightly as she sees each picture. There’s a mix of emotions on her face—a faint smile at some of the memories, a flicker of sadness at others. One picture, in particular, catches her attention: a photo of her mother and herself as a baby, surrounded by a field of yellow flowers. A soft, nostalgic smile tugs at her lips.

The instructions on the back of the envelope prompt her to share the significance of these photos with her partner, whoever they may be. Nuvia glances up, her eyes meeting those of the person across from her. She hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to start, then offers a weak smile.]

So… do you want to go first? Or should I?

[She asks with a gentle voice and a bit unsure, still trying to gauge her partner's reaction.]

I don't mind either way, but… these photos... they bring back a lot of memories.

[She holds the picture of her mother a little closer, her eyes softening. Nuvia pauses, waiting to see if her partner wants to share first or hear more about her memories.]

(ooc: If you don't see a prompt you want to do with Nuvia or want a personal one, then you can PM me to request one or PP me over at plurk.)

Sea La Vie, because everybody <3's Nuvia

[once_reborn]

[It's not that she has an objection to sand. It's just that every time she's been on it, something awful has been happening. Firefights, awful stuff when she was still immersed in the Dark Side, or those giant sandworms that one time who made the Hutts look handsome.]

[Ok, fine, she's not really at home with the concept of relaxing, period. Not enough to do, quite frankly. She'd rather be tinkering. She'd also rather have the majority of her scars covered up, if only to keep people from asking. She's getting better about them, really, but...yeah.]

[At least the swimsuit she's found covers the worst ones, and isn't abbreviated enough to become a roadmap to a live lived hard. It had somehow spoken to her, in the end. The worst scars were covered by that and her fringe, so hurray.]

[But just as she's getting comfortable, she's waved to by what has to be one of the most gorgeous beings she's ever seen. She's noticing just how deep and sparkling the gene pool is this place seems to draw from - which raises more questions about why she's the one called upon to apparently defend her universe. But all that's bigger stuff, right now she's just kind of staring, realizing she's responded with a drawn out 'uh'.]

Oh, uh, sure, I...I'll get one of those...things.

Asano Rin | Blade of the Immortal

[revengeisalie]

⏵ whispered secrets of the night ⏴

The months since Rin got to Etraya have passed like a whirlwind, it feels. Exploding dolls here, labyrinths there, cities full of giant snakes yet elsewhere, with barely time to take a breath. In what little downtime they had, Rin had hung around where everyone else was, observing people and interacting as well.

Now that they're back from Moorecroft, she decides to put her focus more on exploring the place. Etraya has grown considerably since she first got here; all the new buildings popping up, seemingly out of thin air, have not passed her by.

There's an unshakable sense of unease as she traverses the land that Aurora grants them access to, something that wasn't there before. Rin decides to push through it, but she's even more alert than usual -- any small sound might make her jump.

It is in this eerie atmosphere that she stumbles upon a too familiar sight -- a traditional Japanese house, made of wood and clay and chalk paint, its curved roof looking elegant where it sits shadowed by trees.

The thing is, it's not just any house.

It's hers.

She stands there, in shock, in silence, for several moments. It's just like she remembered. There's the gate in the wall around the house and garden, the gable of the main house greeting her above. To the left, the roof of the dojo that hasn't really been used in years. Not by anyone but her.

But the sign saying Muten-ichi-ryu Asano Dojo is torn off, lying on the ground beside the gate, which is half off its hinges. Trepidation makes her skin crawl now, but -- she can't look away. She can't not go in.

So she does.

⏵ sea la vie ⏴

The discovery of her house, apparently in much the same state it had been after the night her life was destroyed, has rattled Rin. A social event might be just the thing to... maybe not quite pick her spirits back up, but at least give her something to do while she processes that particular experience. Sitting idly around certainly won't make it better.

Now, swimming in the ocean is not something Rin has, as such... done before. She's bathed in streams and small lakes while living with Manji or on the road, and taken good care not to be seen by strangers.

This, however, appears... different. She has already seen that this world has special clothes just for occasions like this, in stores, on magazine covers, on the television. Rin decides to try it out and goes for a bright red two-piece with a halter top.

Any other women in the changing rooms might hear her muttering to herself as she struggles to put it on for a moment, and as she walks toward the beach, she will still seem a bit uncomfortable in the unfamiliar clothes.

Eventually, she goes for the water and gently dips her toes in for a moment, letting the water move around them, feeling the cool wetness and the soft sand on her skin. Then, she wades in deeper.


⏵ polaroid pandemonium ⏴ cw: light gore, creepy dude being creepy

The invitation from the little companion bot certainly catches her attention. It seems quite personal, with the specific time and table. Aurora's up to something again, and Rin is not going to miss out.

So she makes her way to the café and sits down at the place designated hers. Of course, she can't stop herself from opening the envelope immediately.

As soon as she takes a glimpse at the contents, she freezes. Looking back at her is her own life, laid bare.

Her mother, bent crying over her father's corpse on the tatami in their living room, his shoulders cleft from his body, blood seeping from the wounds.

Visiting a festival with her grandfather when she was young.

Sitting next to Manji on the back porch of his shack.

Shira grabbing her upper arm, that one time when she was trying to train with him there.

Anotsu Kagehisa's recumbent, tetanus-addled body.

Doa, curled in on herself on the river shoal where the current had landed them.

Rin's hands begin to tremble, and she has to bite the inside of her lip in what seems like a pretty hopeless bid to keep it together.

Housekeeping

[redheadcarrier]

Asuka's stayed in touch with Rin as best she can - so she's not that surprised when she gets asked to come help out with a few things. And despite herself, she does. It's not a long walk, but she does have to pause because the very traditional Japanese house looks a bit out of place in this strange mixed city. There's a sign by the gate, in kanji she still has trouble reading. She gives it a glance and then steps up to the door.

After a moment of hesitation, she knocks.

"Hey! Rin! It's Asuka!"