MISSION 004 (part 1)

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: July 19th-July 27th.
WHERE: Moorecroft Village
WHAT: Enjoy life in your new suburban neighborhood!
NOTES\WARNINGS: Potential death.

⏵ welcome home ⏴ Welcome to Moorecroft Village, where the sun casts a gentle glow through soft white clouds. Pavement paths wind around the village, adorned with wildflowers in every hue. Birds sing a soothing melody, while a few content cats lounge in sunspots or on benches along the streets. Cars hum by, ferrying residents to work, the store, or back home after a busy day. It looks almost perfect. The ideal little village, occupied by individuals from all over. Orcs, elves, faeries, werewolves, vampires, and dhampirs coexist harmoniously, each contributing to their quaint little town. Despite their varied backgrounds, they appear to embrace this place as their own. They take their baby carriages out during the day for a stroll, chatting with friends and neighbors about current happenings, discussing their most recent mission (a ‘game’ of Whodunit, in which one of theirs, Theo, was tasked with killing one of their own each day and they all had to figure out who had killed them before they could come back to life) and the difficulties therein, new job assignments, weird things the teens in their houses are getting up to... generic, neighborly conversations. The village is full of life. There are numerous facilities to wander and things to do! The library houses a vast collection of books spanning history from countless other worlds and whimsical children's tales. Teens gather at the ice skating rink, while the movie theater screens films spanning generations. An aquarium full of wonders: glowing rainbow fish, miniature great white sharks, a colorful octopus with patterns running over it that almost look like ivy, and numerous others. In the daytime, everyone can explore clothing stores, indulge in gourmet cakes from the grocers, and partake in leisurely pursuits without financial concerns; just like on Etraya, money does not exist here. ⏵ help wanted ⏴ Moorecroft surpasses Etraya in its development, offering attractions and activities to engage its inhabitants throughout the day. But with these advancements come additional responsibilities. By day, at least one adult from every household is expected to fulfill their shifts at 'day jobs', lasting anywhere from four to eight hours. Meanwhile, the youth are expected to go to school, absorbing knowledge in various disciplines. Each job duty requires different skillsets, but whether or not those required skillsets are matched to those who are expected to work them... well. They’ll have plenty of time for training, won’t they? Or perhaps they’ll get dropped right into their job and be expected to figure it out all on their own. For the younger residents, education is structured into two main institutions: "Sandalwood Lower" for those twelve and under, and "Maplewood Upper" for older students. These schools offer a broad curriculum encompassing Language Arts, Mathematics, Science, Physical Education, Technology, Fine Arts, and a diverse array of Foreign Languages. Electives range widely, from specific sports to Survival Training, Creative Writing, Journalism, and Sociology. At lunchtime, the school cafeteria presents an array of choices. Options range from standard fare like school pizza to other offerings such as vampire's blood, brains, and hearts—just in case an unexpected guest should drop in. After all, one never knows who might show up in Moorecroft. ⏵ honey do's ⏴ But life extends beyond work and school. A structured routine of what is expected of each household is kept on digital calendars, and installed on the wall in the kitchen of each house. These calendars update daily with smaller tasks, and weekly with larger ones, detailing what is expected of those residing within its walls. Typical tasks include simple activities such as: Take the child(ren) for a walk outdoors. Visit the local park. Bake a pie for the neighbors. Tell your spouse(s) how important they are to you. Share a secret. Shop with your child(ren). Mow the lawn. Don’t forget to attend your child’s school’s PTA meeting! Help with homework. Take family photos. Go on a date. More complex tasks are found under weekly checklists, and may involve: Host a neighborhood barbeque competition. Volunteer at the hospital. Teach your child a sport. Start a soccer league. Create a garage band. Get a part time job. Join a club. Eos will check off each task as it is completed. At the bottom of each calendar, a tally records the completion of tasks, providing a visual measure of productivity and community involvement. ⏵ night watch ⏴ As the sun lowers over the horizon, everything shifts. Every long-term resident understands the consequences of curfew and the threats within. They retreat to their homes, urging those unfamiliar to them who may not understand the rules just yet that they, too, need to return indoors for the night. Within the confines of their houses, life continues under a fragile veil of normalcy. A peek into some of the homes of long-term residents will find them playing board games with their family units, completing homework or work assignments they were unable to finish during the day, watching a few family-friendly shows on their couches, or enjoying a late dinner. Eventually, they’ll return to their beds and wait for the sound of their alarms. In Moorecroft, no friendly companion bots roam the streets during the day. In their place, highly advanced robots emerge to enforce curfew once the time comes. They silently make their way through the streets, sweeping away anything that isn’t part of Eos’ design: trash left out on the street, bugs left by suspicious men wearing cowls that have ears on them, graffiti, new decor that Eos decides she doesn’t like. No winds shake the trees, there are no cars on the road, but noises can be heard coming from outside that don't sound... normal by any means. Croaks, whispers, scratches against doors and walls alike. Those who defy curfew will be asked, once, to return to their homes. If they opt not to listen, they are met with force: physically restrained, subdued, and dragged back to their homes. If they decide to fight, the bots are not above killing them and dropping their limp bodies just inside the front door of their houses. They will revive after 48 hours but not without cost. Each return carries an absence—a missing memory, a lost skill, or a fragment of their very essence, stolen away in the process of their revival. Even those who manage to evade capture will awaken in their beds with no recollection of their death or what they may have witnessed before dying. They will instead have a vague feeling that something horrifying happened. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Daily and weekly tasks can be chosen by players! We won't be listing these out for each household, but relying on players to choose what's most fun for them to play with within their households. As noted on Mission Plotting, we're open to one group successfully staying out past curfew, but would like to keep this to one thread. We have a separate log for NPC interactions for this mission! For any questions relating to the contents of this log, mod queries thread on the initial plotting post to assist us in keeping all mission-related information in one place. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

aerith | final fantasy vii: remake!verse | mostly ota

[anciently]

❀ south london forever (around town)

[ Another beautiful day in...paradise?

Aerith's never lived in a place like this. It's so different from the city she's been calling home for the last few months, and very different from the Midgar slums. The first morning here, she steps outside (only just, hovering on the threshold) and stares up at the sun, up at the big, blue sky, shielding her eyes with a hand.

She retreats back indoors, after that, feeling a little overwhelmed by the bright expanse overhead. ...But! Aerith isn't one to shy away from a challenge. That first day, she ventures out into the town, trying to get her bearings in their temporary residence. There are people she recognizes from before Moorecroft, and people that seem to be long-term residents, and everyone seems...pretty happy. The whole place is idyllic to a fault.

(On the surface, at least.)

Aerith can be found around town with her usual curiosity, whether it's picking through offerings at the grocery store or wandering the exhibits at the aquarium with wide eyes. Between errands, she'll also take regular walks up and down the street where she's been assigned a home, waving to those she passes and striking up conversations. ]

Hey, neighbor! How's your day going?

[ If they're not the chatty type, she isn't deterred. There are other, more conversational fish in the sea... ]


❀ prayer factory (on the job)

[ "Architect" might as well be a foreign concept. The word itself is easily enough understood, but the practical application is...more tricky. Going to and from "the office," other residents might see the former-florist talking to herself, brows knit in concentration. Or else, heading home with an armful of rolled-up papers: their contents unclear. There's a designated space for her to work, and she's very aware that there's an expectation for...well, something, but without much else to go off of...

Let no one accuse her of being a quitter. In pursuit of knowledge, she can also be found in the library, eyes-deep in books about architecture as the furrows in her forehead deepen. ]

...Sounds deceptively easy...kind of. But when you get into it... Oh boy.


❀ haunted house (around the house - closed to 'family')

[ It both is, and is not, a weird situation. It's... Okay, yes, it is Something that she and Cloud had been assigned as partners, as a performative couple, for their little family unit. That part...she's been trying not to think too hard about. But, as for having 'children?' They're not much younger than their 'parents,' and one of them is Yuffie. More or less, she and Cloud both have some experience wrangling the young ninja.

In Aerith's case, she's more often than not enabling the young ninja, but. Neither here nor there. ]

If I try and bake something, is anyone here to help out? Pretty sure there's a non-zero chance of a fire starting, otherwise... [ This is the call she makes into the house one night, poking her head out from the kitchen in the hopes that one or more of them are around. One of them, Izuku, is a city resident she hadn't met before the mission, but all their interactions since coming to Moorecroft have been more than pleasant. ]

And don't tell me to "just not bake" when there're so many good ingredients here to use!

[ Is this directed at a certain grumpy fake-spouse? Maybe. ]


❀ choose your own adventure!

( don't see what you're looking for? feel free to leave a starter! )

[utinam]

[When asked about her day, Nuvia will stop walking with her head a little low as she fiddles with the cheerleading outfit that was given to her. The skirt was shorter than what she was used to. Long cloud hair usually connects to the rest of her body to create her outfits; however, it was not the case today as her hair barely reaches the skirt. If only she hadn't used up some of her stamina...

A soft but forced smile will be given as Nuvia waves back finding the other woman to be quite beautiful with her striking green eyes. A very rare color back in her world.]

Today was my first day of school. [A short pause as she gathers her thoughts.] I joined a club like I was told to, but it wasn't the one I originally wanted.

[Which was a shame because she much prefers her original idea but was heavily guiltripped into joining the cheerleaders instead.]

Do I look weird dressed like this?

Asuka Langley Soryu | ota

[redheadcarrier]

I. Welcome Home

[ Asuka isn't sure she likes this place. It feels... what? Way too perfect? That's the best way to put it. More to the point, she's also been ushered into a household with a group of other people - only a couple of which she's familiar with - and been told that she's going to have a family. It isn't, as they say, ideal. The very first thing she does is step out into the front yard of her adorable new home and regard the neighborhood with a skeptical little scowl on her face, her arms akimbo. This place looks idyllic, sure - people talking, wandering around, going out in their yards... but she thinks she knows better.

Nothing like this is ever as good as it seems. She stalks down the path to "her" front gate and then pauses. She was a little set on stepping out into this strange new world - but where is she going to go? She considers that for a moment and then throws her hands up with a little agh. ]

Screw it! I'll figure it out!

[ The outburst might attract attention. And so might the almighty clatter of the gate being swung shut behind her like a door being slammed. She glances up the street, then down it, as if she's trying to figure out which way to go. ]

II. Out on the Town

[ Asuka finds out there's actually a lot to do. Which is a weird thing to think about. It's a bit like Tokyo-3 in some ways - it's got everything you'd want in a modern town. Movie theater, parks, skating rinks, an aquarium, all kinds of shops. It's just... way too perfect. As much as she sort of wants to indulge, she remains incredibly suspicious. So far everything has had some sort of catch. This place has to too, right? She still figures out that she's going to indulge a it.

At one point she's outside the theater looking at the list of films. If she knows you - or doesn't - she jerks a thumb at it and tries to get your attention. ]

You recognize any of these?

[ At another time she can found circling through the shopping areas, looking at clothing and just sizing it all up. She isn't buying anything. Yet. But she will stop to prod and poke at people she thinks might not be the original inhabitants (she's not sure she trusts them). ]

What do you think about this stuff? I know it's supposed to be free, but you really think Echo is gonna let us just cart this all back?

[ And for the quieter moments, she ends up in one of the parks - perhaps unsurprisingly with a bit of ice cream, considering the weather - watching people go about their days and listening to people enjoy their time out in the sun. It's still too neat for her, but... hey, at least she has ice cream? ]

III. School Days

[ Asuka resents having to go to school and it shows on her face the moment she sits foot into "Upper". She's completely checked out during most of the classes and seems to not want to take any of it seriously. She might even get a mild talking to - something she is happy to return with her own acerbic wit and sense of righteousness. It culminates toward the middle of the school day when she's been informed they're going to have to go to some kind of pep rally and that's really it. She's had it.

The hallways are filled with hustle and bustle, but Asuka seems to be lurking a little. She makes eye contact with another teen and jerks her head a bit conspiratorially. ]

Hey. Let's get out of this place. You don't want to deal with this lame rally, right?

[ She's not sticking around. ]

IV. Family is What You Make (for her family unit)

[ A chore chart. There's a stupid chore chart. She stares at it with venom. She realizes she's supposed to be cooperating with these people, but she really has no great urge to play house with anyone. Let alone some mostly strangers. She turns on her heel with a huff. ]

I'm not mowing any stupid lawn. And you can forget about any family shopping trips! Forget this stupid list! I'm not doing any of it!

[ Well. Good luck. ]

V. Wildcard

[ Choose your own adventure or throw something we've plotted at me or hit me up if you want a specific starter! ]

school days

[myagic]

[Rita has some guarded curiosity towards standardized schooling as a concept, having heard about it from Natsuno and Clarke, but likewise resents being required to attend. As if they're going to teach anything useful she doesn't already know, anyway!

Yet here she is, and she expects they should be grateful she even showed up...but instead, before classes even start, she's getting lectured on her outfit. Something about her crop top being unacceptable dress, blah blah, detention threatened unless she keeps her hoodie fully zipped up for the entire day, and she's in such a huff when she sits down at a desk that she doesn't even notice she's sat next to Asuka.]

Ughh, I hate this... Who cares what I wear, anyway?!

Barnabas Tharmr | Final Fantasy XVI | OTA and closed prompts below

[odinpusrex]

[Plotting post is here! Feel free to hit me up on plurk(ZornSable) or on Discord(Zanono).]

OTA | will match style

[odinpusrex]

I. Lord's Measure

[All of this seemed simple enough from the outset. They were to play roles given to them, work in units that would simulate small families, and they would maintain order through their obedience to the established structure of this civilization. Rather clear cut instructions, which is what Barnabas prefers, even if he denies having something so condemning as a preference.

A lot of it is as alien as it is intriguing to Barnabas, many of its modernism strange to him, yet not so absurd that he cannot grasp it well enough to play his bit part in the grand scheme of it all. That they use machines instead of chocobos for transportation is...an adjustment, but not one he finds terribly necessary to achieve his goal. Thus when Cid took an interest in dismantling theirs for the sake of his insatiable curiosity, Barnabas remained silent, voicing no objection.

Through the trial of dealing with Cidolfus, he figured out the lawn mower, and is now doing his part in maintaining his lawn. However, as he finishes—leaving the lawn with perfectly precise striping, truly the stuff of lawncare magazines everywhere that might make yard enthusiasts everywhere in envy—he takes notice of his neighborhoods' lawns. Of those who care a little less of maintaining the aesthetics that are so clearly intrinsic to the village's identity.

That is to say, the responsibility that falls to them in order to succeed in their mission. Barnabas weighs the options in his mind, of leaving the others to their sloppily maintained yards which are made all the more apparent in comparison to his own, however the alternative is taking it upon himself to do things right. After all, if their success is to be weighed as a whole and not as individuals, then his failure to act when he could would be reflective upon him—upon his world, would it not? Would such indolence be forgiven if he gave less than what is required, simply because the task was not his?

The end result is nothing short of Barnabas taking his lawnmower, as well as other lawn equipment, and handling people's lawns for himself. The distinct sound of the lawnmower outside is certainly him, and should someone come to see what the hell is going on, they will be greeted with Barnabas, stoic as ever, mowing their lawn. Dressed in black overalls, a white t-shirt (which, like his brow, bears the sweaty evidence of his hard work, it is summer after all), work boots, and gloves.

He does not seem keen to stop what he's doing just because someone noticed him. Whether from the sidewalk or from the house, he appears to be singularly focused on his task and his task alone. Or he is just merely choosing to ignore anyone trying to interrupt him.

Where is this man's keeper..?]

II. Lay of the Land (all around, multiple prompts)

[Throughout the week Barnabas can be found around town.

Though he is not one to stay overlong in places like the clothing or grocery store, he can be found there all the same. Whether or not one thinks its wise to approach the otherwise sullen man when he clearly wants to get what he needs and get out, well, that's up to them! But hey, he is the head of the PTA, and maybe there's something they want to discuss with him—or maybe they catch him being held up by one of the residents who has been here far longer than the Etrayans have, voicing their concerns about the past head of the PTA, and what they think might be better for the children! How the last Head did not listen to their utterly legitimate and assuredly well researched ideas, and—! With the way he stares at them with darkened eyes, visibly wilting in the face of their continual rambling, one might feel the siren song of sympathy to come help free him.

Or not, maybe someone just wants to make his day worse!

When he isn't being accosted at the store, Barnabas can also be found sometimes at the local park. It could be early in the morning when he's set about jogging right as curfew has lifted, dressed for the task though his top is black, his shorts a royal blue, while both enjoy a yellow trim. He doesn't seem too interested in chatter, but he will not refuse someone joining him for his morning jog, either. Does that mean he enjoys the company? Hard to know, with him.

However, later in the day after work he also sometimes visits the park, silently siting upon a bench keeping to himself while others interact, play games, and socialize. He seems keen to simply watch in his solitude and silence. Perhaps he would like some company (he wouldn't), or maybe he's stirring up concern if one notices his gaze is lingering on someone for what seems like an uncomfortably long time (probably valid). Honestly, it might be best to just let him be (but where's the fun in that?).

Should a stray ball, frisbee, or whatever other park-game related object happen to come his way, he will catch it before disaster strikes. Though perhaps the real disaster is the fact someone now has to retrieve it from him, and he doesn't look all too friendly. Don't worry, that's just his face! Well, he also isn't friendly, but the point is even if he was, he'd probably still look just as surly and unwelcoming! So, good luck?

Barnabas can also sometimes be found around his neighborhood, and not only when he's trying to maintain the uniformity of the lawns. Perhaps you catch him when he's picking up the newspaper in the morning before his jog, or when he's coming home from work before tucking himself away inside. He can also be found standing outside his house as curfew approaches, keeping a keen eye on others, as if watching to make sure they have likewise returned to their abodes in time.

After all, this is a group effort, isn't it? It would be rather recalcitrant of him if he did not do his part in making certain they were all abiding by the mission.]

III. Wildcard!

[Wanna throw a prompt at me? Feel free! I will be posting for the BBQ competition and the PTA agenda meetings separate from this for the sake of organization and the spirit of a mingle for either thing, so worry not! You will have the chance to have fantasy Scandinavian BBQ as well as the chance to make Barnabas' life even more miserable with his job!]

Sharon Carter | Marvel 616

[daughterofliberty]

—open & closed starters—
__________

plot with me @
plotting post | repeatandfade

welcome home —closed to Steve Rogers (notmyfuture)

[daughterofliberty]

[ She honestly can't tell if Aurora's got a mean streak to her — or Eos, whichever one they're dealing with here — or if she just thinks she's funny, but it absolutely can't be a coincidence that she winds up 'married' to Steve Rogers. Of everyone here, it was their two names that came out of some hat together and now she's eying the neat walkway cutting through a wide green lawn and leading up to the pleasant, breezy porch of the little yellow bungalow they'll be calling home for the next few weeks like she's looking down the barrel of a gun.

It's a nice street. Every street here is nice, but this one is backed up against a lush green wood made up of friendly maples and oaks and a few soft dark pine trees. They have a backyard. She thinks she sees the edges of a patio tucked away behind some gently nodding flowers in neat beds.

But worst of all is the little blanket-lined basket there on the porch, waiting for them. Sharon bends down to read the tag — “Hello! Give me a name and raise me, please!” — and frowns at the little sleeping thing swaddled cozily in light cloth, round-cheeked and soft. One hand lies out of the swaddle; its fingernails are marvelously, almost alarmingly, tiny. ]

Are they serious? What the hell is this?

[ (...It's a baby, Sharon.) ]

Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role (campaign 1, pre-stream)

[littlestderolo]

closed starters to come in the comments below. feel free to reach out to plot a thing or hit up the wildcard option.
plotting! | ThriceWiddershins | PM

Ororo Munroe (Storm) | Marvel 616 | open and closed

[agoddessonce]

[ open prompts and closed starters to be linked below! if you'd like something tailored, please PM or hit up my plotting comment here! ]

(open) - blending in and honey do's

[agoddessonce]

« "blending in"

[ Ororo goes to work. She has never held a typical job in her life, and... it's odd; she isn't sure she likes it. No one else from Etraya seemed to be assigned to her workplace, and that makes it both lonesome and not. She makes the best of what she has and talks to the locals in the TV station, and gathers what information she can about life here on Moorecroft. She gets advice about doing the little tasks, about how they complete missions and what the last one had been like (Ororo tries very hard not to react too viscerally at the thought of anyone being compelled to be a secret serial killer.), and, of course, all their stern warnings about the curfew.

Thankfully it's not a very demanding job at all. She's on air (people still watch TV here?) for the morning and afternoon forecast - that she discreetly makes sure are always right - and then she's free to explore the little town. There's local coffeeshops and bakeries for lunchbreaks. The library gets a stop so she can compare their books with the one she received from Aurora. There's a bit of time spent outside the aquarium too, where she wonders if she should explore it with selected friends.

She takes a car instead of flying around, abiding by local traffic regulations, opting to keep her powers hidden for now. Occasionally she parks outside the school - sometimes to pick up her designated son, but as that's a duty she shares with her other housemates, sometimes she's also just there to look for familiar faces and catch up.

All in all, it's all very wholesome and mundane and normal. Not for the first time, Ororo realizes how much she dislikes it.

[ ooc: Feel free to run into her anywhere, or wildcard a location! ]

---

« honey do's

[ The tasks on the calendar are probably some of the oddest things she about this place, but she's trying to use them to her advantage. They're very simply worded! She wonders if there are loopholes.

a. If she is to take family photos, can she take another family's photos? - She picks up a touristy disposable camera from a general store, wondering if she could use it as an excuse to go visit some friends.

b. She has to go on a date - does that have to be with the near-strangers she's being forced to share a house with, or could she take anyone out for a pre-dinner (as, tragically, no one's allowed to go for something later.)

c. Teach someone to parallel park - no, she's skipping this one, she tried to teach Kitty what must be a decade ago now and fared better with teaching her to pick her way out of handcuffs.

d. Bring a neighbor a casserole would have been fine, if she knew how to make one. She takes one to-go from a restaurant on the way home from work, and picks a house at random. Knock, knock!

e. Do the groceries - don't forget the milk gets a frown, because what else was needed, other than milk? She puts some wine and fruit in her cart, before heading for the dairy section. ]

[ ooc: please feel free to either pick or wildcard a task with her! ]

Accelerator | A Certain Magical Index | OTA

[levelshift]

Breakfast Clu -- I mean, Detention

[As much as Accelerator would prefer sleeping through this mission he is, eventually, forced to attend school. Unsurprisingly, it sucks. The social mores of a Western-style school are beyond him, made even worse by the fact that there were only a few years of his life when he had actual classmates, and that was back when he was an incredibly young child. None of that applies to teenagers, so combine that with his lack of friends his own age and his general antisocial demeanour and he's having a bad time. A real bad time. It's about an hour into school before he feels like wanting to die.

Worst of all is the curriculum. A typical Western suburban school's course load is going to be several decades behind even the dingiest school in Academy City, and Accelerator is the city's top honour student. He's managed to get out of having to take phys ed., which is nice, but the rest of the crap being taught in all his classes are things he learned years and years ago. He's feeling fed up with everything, and he's bored, and he's tired, so it's no wonder that he ends up taking a nap during one class.

He doesn't even remember which one it was, but it doesn't matter. He isn't subtle about it, so it's inevitable that the teacher notices and thus he winds up in detention with the other delinquents. Fun stuff!

When he arrives at the room he's scowling, as per usual, irritated that he's having to waste his time doing more inane school shit. It's all kind of laughable, given back home he was both in prison and running an entire nation. This shouldn't bother him as much as it does.

With a huff he drops down into a desk near the door, removing his arm from his crutch before digging around in his bag to pull out a lukewarm can of coffee. Then, tilting his chair back, he puts his feet up on his desk and proceeds to start scrolling through a smartphone that is definitely not the kind Eos has provided them.]

Public Library.

[Accelerator can be found at the public library relatively often, shocking given his lack of desire to do anything with this mission. On the other hand, libraries allow him to indulge in his one real hobby, reading, and he could use something to do in between attending school and sleeping.

Even more shocking is that he gravitates towards the children's section, specifically the stacks containing YA novels and comics. He can be found flipping through a comic with a sci-fi-esque cover, looking a little interested in it. Or maybe for those scientifically-minded, you can catch him over in nonfiction with books on spatial data analysis, geomorphology and earth sciences under his arm.

There are times when he's there without any intentions of taking out books. Back in the children's section, he and a girl of about eight or nine have commandeered a table, with her math homework spread out over the surface. Upon arriving he had been assigned a part-time job tutoring, and it's one of the few things around here that doesn't actively annoy him. She looks a lot less interested in it than he is, and she spends the majority of their hour needling him instead of being productive. Still, he doesn't look bothered, and he patiently persists, eventually getting her to work through the equations that have been assigned.

Or maybe he's just a pushover, who knows. When their hour is up and some parental figure arrives (her mother? Again, who knows), she scoops up all her stuff into her backpack, grinning and waving at him before running off. He sits back in his chair and yawns.]

Wildcard.

((Happy to write up a personalized starter or do something else! I'm available at cryptophyta and cryptophyta on Discord!))

detention! kinda

[reconstruction]

[Connor is an over-achiever at everything he does, even if it's being assigned as a teacher at school. he enjoys teaching people (not) surprisingly. he could have been placed into subject and easily helped anyone learn. he did have a small adjustment period of simplifying his vocabulary, but computers -- and their language -- are a walk in the park. he won't outwardly admit it, but he does like having something so human to do. it's allowing him to integrate with society in a new way.

he's still as nosy as ever, naturally, and finds himself peeking into classrooms after the bell has rung. Accelerator is easy to spot. instead of disturbing the class, he sends him a message from the hallway.]

Why are you in detention?

Francis Krouse | Worm | OTA

[equivo]

1. smoking under the bleachers
[ Of all the places in all the multiverses Krouse expected to wind back up, 'high school' wasn't high on the list.

But here he is, enrolled, oriented, and scheduled. He's even got a locker that clangs and sticks the way his last one did. It's all as overwhelming normal as the house is, down to the faint haze of cleaning products, rubber, and teenagers that lingers in the hallways while everyone is supposedly in class.

Krouse should be in either math or English. He'd have to check the folded schedule at the bottom of his backpack to be sure. Since that's in his locker, hanging above his barely opened textbooks, he's blessedly free of knowing exactly what educational opportunities he's missing out on.

Instead, he's leaning against a support strut at the back of the outdoor bleachers, watching fluffy clouds roll by in the bright summer sky as he smokes. ]

2. video games
[ Krouse is, evidently, a member of the school's AV Club. The meetings are marked on his schedule along with his classes, and he set about determining exactly what kinds of obligations and privileges come with membership early.

So it is that on a day when his lunch hour lines up with a following free period, Krouse slaps a printed poster in Impact font on the door of one of the school's resource rooms: GAMING GATHERING - WALK-INS WELCOME.

Inside the room, Krouse has rearranged the tables into islands focused on the televisions of varying size and clarity hooked up to an assortment of gaming consoles. There are fighting games, first person shooters, casual party games, and even a few single player options for anyone who thinks they can hold an audience. Music and sound effects clash with each other in a tumble of enthusiastic noise, punctuated by the chatter of students who come in and out over the course of this impromptu gathering. One weekly task down early might make up for some sins, Krouse figures.

And with his work mostly done, aside from troubleshooting any tech problems as they come up, Krouse picks up a controller at a fantasy themed multiplayer versus game. It's one of the kind that comes with a variety of different heroes to play as: wizards of different elemental types, fighters specializing in various weapons, rogues ranging from the stealth assassin to the chaos inciting trapmaker. The objectives shift between maps and match types, from capture the flag to straightforward defeat in combat. It's not hard to pick up the basics of the gameplay loop, but mastering the mechanics is meant to be a challenge.

It's the perfect thing to keep himself occupied for a while, as long as he can loop in some opponents. He flags down anyone he knows might be interested, that he knows at all, or that just happen to be free when a new match screen comes up. ]

Hey. Want to give this a try?

[ He smiles almost innocently, tapping the back of the chair next to him. ]

3. detention
[ The first time he was in high school, Krouse spent less time in detention than most people thought he deserved. He was good at getting away with things, better at finding ways to do whatever he wanted to do within the letter of the law.

But that had been when he'd had reasons to give a damn about the consequences. Chances are that he still should here, however much Aurora has let them get away with in the past, but then again, the delinquent is surely as necessary a part of the high school ecosystem as cheerleaders and teacher's pets. Someone has to serve as a cautionary tale.

Besides, detention isn't all bad. It's a great time to get through homework without any better options to distract him. Krouse spends his time under the watchful eye of their teacher supervisor bent over his notebooks, freely half-assing his way through his assignments. He'll wind up with Bs and the occasional A anyway, so there's not really a point to trying any harder than that.

When the teacher leaves the room for a break, warning them not to get up to anything on their way out the door, Krouse leans back in the plastic seat welded to the scarred desk and stretches luxuriously overhead with his fingers interlaced. He looks far too content for someone who's supposed to be getting punished. ]

4. contact / wildcard
[ If you want to plot something more specific out, you can drop by my plotting comment or get in touch via PM or terriblepurpose. ]

closed prompts

[equivo]

Tim Drake | DC Comics | OTA + maybe some closed starters

[mostdangerousbird]

[ Plotting post is here and you can always reach out to me at seemarierun ]

Sandalwood Lower - OTA

[mostdangerousbird]

[ It's... early. He's late, but for the purposes of the digital family calendar, Tim is late for "Timothy J. Drake: Sandalwood Lower, Art Teacher, 7:00 A.M. - 3:30 P.M."

He makes it onto school grounds eventually - the instructions didn't provide any indication of where this place was. Thank you again, helpful AI gods. Luckily, the school isn't open yet, so he makes a slow loop of the campus while he drinks his coffee. Only a few lights are on, and there isn't the crush of cars flinging children out the door to signify its opening soon. A couple of kids in the playground, younger than Damian, and some cars towards the back of the parking lot. Tim wonders if

Someone jogs by across the street, and Tim raises an eyebrow at this voluntary early start to the day. ]

It's 7:17, bruh.

[ He mutters it almost to himself as he takes another swig. ]

Natsuno Yuuki | Shiki | OTA

[neverleave]

A. Welcome Home

[He hates the place. It may look American and have more facilities, but it's Sotoba all over again. Entomb yourself in village life, stay in the box they force you into, play your part like a trained monkey and pretend nothing lurks beneath the surface.

He'll take the labyrinth over this. Hell, he'll take death.

Natsuno can be found riding a bicycle all around, learning the area like you'd expect a newcomer. He avoids any "fun" activities except the library where he consumes novel after novel, and the the movie theatre where he watches exclusively so-bad-it's-good horror and sci-fi flickes. If you're visiting or working in the hospital, catch him at the entrance to the special vampire wing, scowling in disgust at the blood bags and locals who donate their blood.]


B. School

[There was a time where school mattered. When he was still human, when education was his only way to escape the village and his parents. Now it's just another piece of set dressing in a never ending series of cosmic jokes he can't escape from even in death. Natsuno stays away from the blood in the cafeteria and puts in the minimal amount of effort to get the assigned authority figures off his back, but:

i. He does engage in chosen electives: run into him while taking first aid, determined to be more useful if someone close to him gets hurt. He takes survival training as well, in case Echo decides to turn powers off. He even tries art class, but seems focused only on how to make good, quick sketches.

ii. Of course, things can't always be smooth, and he does end up in detention, scowling the entire time. He's wearing gym clothes which he definitely wasn't wearing this morning and his hair and shoes are clearly wet. Getting caught in the crossfire of two supernaturally inclined individuals sucks.]


C. Night Watch (open to 1-2 tag-ins, if you wanna get caught together or run into each other while being dragged along)

[At first he stays indoors during curfew to try and gauge the situation. It sure sounds like something bad is happening outside, but everything is bright and pristine come morning. The locals are nervous about the nightly noises, and Natsuno's certain they've been forced into submission somehow. He doesn't believe the curfew is really for his own good - and he was never one to back down at the face of a threat.

He hangs around the park, ignoring anyone who advises him to hurry up and go home. The first robots appear at 8:01 and ask him to leave.

It's doesn't take them long to realize that while he walked away, he's not going home.

It's not much of a struggle. Even fully fed, Natsuno can't outrun them, and he never gets to test if his strength can do anything against them. The moment he tries, the robot's grip on his elbow tightens until the bones snap under the pressure.]


D. Wildcard

[Hit me up at sillysymphony or on discord. My plotting comment is here!]

A.

[myagic]

[Rita's of a similar mind, finding the setup like the Village all over again--except worse, in some ways, because at least in the Village, they weren't expected to play family. Still, the environment has the same obnoxiously perfect, too-manicured appearance. It's not just a fake movie set, but a dull and uncreative one.

The residents act so content to play along that Rita wonders when the brainwashing will start.

Instead of staying "home" with her fake family setup, she's out and about, seeing what else they have to work with here, when she spots Natsuno approaching on his bike and waves.]

Hey. You have a bike?

[She's seen them in his movies, but this is the first time in person, and she eyes it curiously.]

katsuki bakugo ★ ota

[nitropowered]

★ School Daze

[It's beyond pointless to be starting school in this place, considering they're probably not going to be here for the entire school year. Completely, stupidly pointless. He still goes, though, partly because he usually follows the rules about this thing, and partly because a part of him has been missing school, whether that's just because he misses Class 1-A or because it's the routine he's been in since he was a kid. Not that he'd admit to missing shit if anyone asked.

School proves to be some kind of Western-style thing that jumps from room to room instead of what he's used to, and he gets so confused about where he's supposed to go that first morning that he ends up pissed off. By the time he gets to the class he's supposed to be in, he's a little late, which is completely unlike him, and the only desks left (apparently they're not assigned?) are in the front row. He throws himself down onto one of the chairs that's open, and slams his books down on the table.

At least the teacher isn't talking at the moment, and Katsuki sits scowling for a moment, opening the notebook and textbook he'd been given at the office, before he leans over to whoever his tablemate is, red eyes connecting with their face only after he's already started talking.]

Hey. I didn't miss anything, did I?

★ Garage Band: Practice

[It's been a while since he played, especially with all the students being moved into the dorms back home and just...not having access to a drum kit. So he'd been a bit surprised when he'd seen the drum set in the garage and gotten the task 'be part of a garage band' in the little family calendar in the kitchen.

So that's how it is.

It's the afternoon, after classes at the stupid fake high school that Katsuki opens the door to the garage, before dinner and well before any kind of quiet time, and starts drumming. It's not like he's a genius at it or anything, but Katsuki is generally pretty damn good at anything he puts his mind to, and this is something he's put his mind to. So he spends a while doing drum solos in the garage, mouth set in a grim line, brow furrowed, arms and hands moving smooth and confident.

Once he's done a particularly complicated one, and managed it without any mrjor mess-ups, he stops, realizing he has an audience.]

What? Never seen a drummer before?

★ Curfew

[Normally, despite his shouting and attitude, Katsuki is one to follow the rules, curfew included. It's not like he's not used to curfew, his mom had always enforced one when he was living at home.

But it's different here, it's not just a matter of a parent wanting a kid home. It's something else, here. They're all confined, and there's...weird sounds on the other side of the walls, of the doors and windows of the house. Scratching. Whispers. Creepy shit that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. There's only so long he can listen to it before he has to know what's going on.

When his mind is set on something, despite the rules, Katsuki tends to just do what he wants. So he opens his bedroom window, flicking the lock open with a thumb, and slips out of it, sliding down the side of the roof and climbing down the handy terrace nailed to the siding. Looking around, eyes narrowed, he scans the area to see if there's anyone about.

Or if he can find the source of those whispers and scratches.]

★ Honey Do's/Wildcard

[OOC: Just some of his tasks, that he will be out and about to complete over the month:

i. Run errands for your family at the grocery store.
ii. Grab fast food with friends and hang out.
iii. Skip a class at school.
iv. Babysit a younger kid.
v. Attend or host a party.

If none of my prompts suit your fancy, please feel free to hit up the honey-do tasks and throw me a starter. Alternately, just throw me a starter with one of your tasks or otherwise, and I'll reply in kind! Or hit me up to plot by PM, onlilypads, or Discord at onlilypads.]

★ For Deku: The Task At Hand

[There's one task on the calendar that Katsuki has been avoiding like the plague since it showed up - 'ask someone on a date' - not because he's scared, of course, but because he doesn't know anyone here very well other than Izuku, and because he's just...never thought about that kind of thing before. After all, he's always been more focused on school and training, preparing himself for the adult world. Worrying about dating right now is for losers like Mineta and Kaminari.

No, all that is way too much of a pain in the ass to deal with. Too much drama. Besides, it isn't like high school sweethearts ever last anyway. But he doesn't want to fail the mission either, just because he thinks dating is a waste of time. The urge to win...that's way stronger. Eventually, he settles on an idea that seems to make sense - ask someone he knows, who won't make a big deal out of it, and they can get it over with.

So, at lunch time at school, Katsuki makes his way over to where Izuku is sitting in the cafeteria area of the school, and sits on the table next to where the little nerd has his lunch set up.]

Hey, Izuku. Go on a date with me.

the task at hand

[wannasmash]

It's tough juggling the parameters of their mission, looking out for others, and conducting rebellious investigations. And to top it all off, the cafeteria doesn't even have katsudon. Izuku is half-heartedly picking at some chicken and mashed potatoes, which can't possibly compare to Lunch Rush's food.

"Oh hi Kacc—eh?"

His face freezes, which has the effect of turning his friendly smile into a frozen rictus of confusion. He turns bright strawberry pink.

What? ...WHAT???

Being asked this question never entered his mind. He wouldn't know what to do. He has so many more important things to worry about, like his weird Quirk, his career, and not getting killed. Romance was to be a problem for an older Izuku who has his life in order. Or perhaps never. Izuku was reviled by all in middle school. Izuku always assumed no one would take an interest in him.

This is the last thing he expects to hear out of someone's mouth, particularly from his rival. Convention says that rivals are diametrically opposed, though personally Izuku sees his relationship with his rival as a positive one. He's someone who he admires, who has always been there, and they learn from each other. That's just normal rival stuff, right?

Why is he panicking?!

"I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong..." he wheezes like an asthmatic. "Did you say d-d-d—"

He's going to die. He's going to drop dead and expire.

shadowheart | baldur's gate 3

[tocastashadow]

i. welcome home (around town)

[Shadowheart can't escape the feeling that this isn't for her. Can someone like her have a house, or be married, or have children? Is that something she would even want? It's easy, at first, to avoid thinking about the answers to those questions, because all of this is so obviously artificial. But a day or two of being a 'housewife,' on her own in this strange house with nothing to occupy her mind but a list of tasks that she doesn't really know how to complete, is more than enough time for those questions to start troubling her.

So she leaves. Walks into the town centre – she has a 'car,' apparently, but she doesn't know what that is or how to use it, and she's used to walking much further in a day anyway – and starts looking around, hoping to distract herself. She's not the only one wearing armour, but she does get a few strange glances for carrying a spear.

Find her in the grocers, holding a basket with nothing but two bottles of wine, several steaks, and a bag of apples in it, staring helplessly at a rack of seeds for sale. Should she plant a garden? Is that allowed? Where would she even begin?

Or notice her at the aquarium completely enraptured by a tank full of colourful fish, staring at them like she's never seen fish before. (She hasn't. Not like this.)]


ii. welcome home (in the yard)

[Seeds acquired, half the yard dug up, and Shadowheart is looking far more flush from the sun than she maybe ever has. Nearby, Scratch is playing with a stick, rolling around in the disturbed dirt and making certain to get all his fur filthy. She's not wearing armour, for once; padded gambeson and chainmail and leather would be far too hot for this sort of thing, and not really necessary. The trousers and shirt she's wearing in lieu of armour are both streaked with dirt, there's dirt beneath her fingernails and probably some on her face, but it feels strangely good.

She sits back on her heels to admire her work, looking across the mounds of dirt that will hopefully bloom into flowers. She can picture it: blues and violets and reds, playing with Scratch amid a vibrant field full of every colour of the rainbow and...

And for the briefest of moments, nothing else matters. No tadpoles or gods or cults or the terrifying uncertainty of her future. For a moment, she's simply... happy.

The pain shouldn't be unexpected, but it is. It rips through her suddenly, tearing up her arm and into her chest, wrapping around her heart and digging in like claws. She cries out, clamping her left hand over her right to suffocate the sickly purple light that oozes from the wound on the back of her hand. There's no memory that comes with it this time, no words, no lesson, no guidance. Merely agony.

And then it's gone.

Scratch is barking, she realizes. He runs over to her, nosing at her in concern. She reaches out to rub his ears, hushing him, as she looks up to see whether any passersby noticed what just happened.]


iii. night watch

[Shadowheart has always been adept at moving through darkness. Even now, that skillset hasn't been lost to her. Pass without trace draws the shadows around her like a cloak, making it easy for her to slip between and around the faint sources of light, and dampens the clinking of her chainmail and the fall of her footsteps. Her white hair is covered by a dark hood. And her half-elven eyes allow her to see clearly where others might be blind.

She hasn't made it far – perhaps managing to sneak past one or two more bots than she otherwise might have been able to, without her abilities – before she realizes that someone else is out here evading curfew. She pauses, peering around the corner of the house she's crouched behind, trying to decide how best to proceed.]


iv. wildcard!

[Feel free to choose your own adventure! I'm at sprucemoose or sprucemooses@discord for plotting.]

grocers

[anciently]

[ This is...new. Not just the literal, new neighborhood and mission, but the experience of living in a picturesque little community, shopping for food in a pristine grocer. Aerith is transfixed by it more than once, wondering vaguely if this is what it's like for people up on the plate, back home.

Something that stirs her from her musings is the sight of a familiar woman, someone else who seems lost in thought. Aerith smiles automatically, approaching from the side and similarly perusing the seeds on offer. ]

Looks like you're gonna have a pretty great dinner. [ She remarks, green eyes flitting to the contents of Shadowheart's basket and then back to the other woman's face. ] Might have to take the cue from you and steal that idea...

[ Wine and steaks with...maybe grated apple, or something? She's no chef, but it sounds good. ]

Thinking about doing some planting? [ Her attention returns to the rack, scanning the labels. ]

logan | xmcu | ota

[cigars]

[ logan wouldn't classify himself as a domestic man, not when he's equipped with a triple set of adamantium-coated claws on each hand and tends to do far more killing than caretaking. there had been a time he'd been put into the position of teacher, but even in the years spent looking after mutants at xavier's school, it never prepared him for husband, father, or — as is his official assignment in this town — housewife.

but if logan can manage anything, it's in improvising and making the most of his circumstances, even if it means striving to do his best in doing laundry and learning how to make muffins without burning them.

I. ( MUFFINS ) his first effort is horrendous and if it were up to him, he'd leave it at that, but one of his assignments is to bake a successful batch of muffins and there's no question that this doesn't exactly qualify as success so he leaves a message up on the network forums, reading, ] NEED HELP. [ with an attached photo of the disastrous muffins, and the invitation to either respond with advice or he'll offer up his address to someone who volunteers to actually give a hands-on tutorial.

II. ( BABY ) if things weren't complicated enough with having to figure out this thing with laura (his kid? maybe? not maybe?), this whole father status is made even worse with the baby that's literally been planted on their doorstep. generally, it's supposed to be a family effort, but with jean having an actual day job and laura being sent to school, it makes it housewife logan's daily responsibility to look after the robot infant. though he wishes it were more of a robot since the realism proves plenty terrifying on its own.

like the fact that it — or really, she — seems to persistently cry as any baby would, where no amount of milk or pacifiers seems to calm her nerves. after a useless hour of no results, logan straps her into a bjorn upon his chest to escape the house for a solution, finding himself wandering through the park where he waves the first (hopefully) friendly looking face he can find. ] Hey, you know anything about getting these to shut up? [ because he's certainly losing his mind at the crying already.

III. ( SHOPPING ) on the rare occasions where he's actually off baby duty, he devotes himself to his other tasks, which includes frequent trips to the grocery store on account of the very extended grocery lists that laura provides for him before he leaves, most of which includes quite a lot of junk food. ] How the hell does the kid eat all of this? [ he might be heard saying with a puzzled squint in his expression, before he starts to pile plenty of it in the cart (it's free, after all). he'll be found stocking up the cart high with items or darting around trying to figure out where he can score some beer too. ]


( ooc: any of the above is open, with I open to either text responses or hand-waving an address exchange and simply arriving at logan's residence (shared with jean and laura and their ai baby). open to discussing wild card options that don't consist of any of the above or just winging it with something else entirely. for plotting, hit me up on plurk at hepburns! )

iii. you get my other dweeb

[keepitgoing]

[Peter is at the grocery store himself, collecting... a lot of the things that are on the list Laura gave Logan, actually. The basket he's got in the crease of his arm is full of completely awful junk food. Turning to the puzzled squinting, Pete reveals one of those frighteningly hyper-realistic robo-babies is strapped to his chest in a carrier. Thankfully, the robo-baby's eyes are closed, and it is sleeping peacefully.

For now. He leans over to see a portion of Logan's shopping list and huffs a laugh under his breath.]

What do you mean? That all sounds great.

[Says the guy who is just barely out of school.]

Otto Octavius | MCU | OTA

[doctopoda]

i. out on the town

[This is Otto's first mission, and frankly it's extremely annoying. At least on the spaceship, they were working towards a good goal. But at least it's a peaceful one, for the most part. He can take care of some things he's been meaning to do.

One of these is clothes shopping! That's an errand that seemed like it was going to be very difficult, with the way his body is now, but fortunately this is an idyllic town that was built for people of many species. It doesn't take long for Otto to find a small specialty shop, with a whole rack for clothes made specially for people with wings. He doesn't, of course, have wings, and the actuators aren't placed in quite the same way on his back. Several of the shirts have adjustable openings, though. He holds one up in a claw so that he can fiddle with the back, testing how much of his back he could cover while still not constricting the actuators.]

Hm. This was all much easier than I thought it would be.

[He also wanders through the aquarium at one point, just for fun. You can find him lost in thought, staring through a large tank containing an octopus. Or at least, supposedly it does. It might be hiding in one of the rocks.

He's taken his sunglasses off in the low light here, so it's obvious when he realizes he has company. He shoots them a flat look. Don't say it. Just don't.]

ii. workin' nine to five

[Tech Support. On one hand, it's very much a step down for someone with Otto's education and experience. On the other...well, he can't say he's chomping at the bit to get back into the lab right now. Not so quickly after everything.

The office turns out to be very boring. His cubicle feels more cramped than usual with the bulk of the actuators curled in there with him, especially since the desk chair is nearly impossible to sit in with them. If you happen to be in the area, he's easy to spot, standing and leaning against the back of the chair with his crappy old desk phone held to his ear.]

Have you tried turning it off and back on again? [...] Okay, do that now then.

[He sounds very bored. His eyes are on the computer screen, where he's apparently playing Solitaire with a robot claw on the mouse.

Of course, he's also taking as many breaks as he can get away with, so you can also run into him at the water cooler. It's a bizarrely mundane atmosphere here, even though Otto, Robot Tentacle Man, is quite likely one of the more mundane folks working in the office.]

Why do we need to be here again? What business is this company even in?

[Tech Support doesn't have a lot of insight into whether they're here to do anything useful or not. It feels a little like being sent to work just for the sake of appearances.]

iii. home sweet home (closed to family members)

[Going home isn't that much of a reprieve from work. Otto doesn't have anything against any members of his assigned family. They all seem like perfectly nice people, and he's done his best to make the situation as little awkward as possible for all of them.

But playacting a happy domestic life is striking a few nerves. He shoots the daily calendar a glare as he walks into the kitchen.]

What new farce are we assigned today?

[Hopefully it's something easy and quick.]

iv. neighborhood watch

[He really would have been perfectly happy to leave the whole curfew alone. He doesn't have any special reason to go out there. They're obviously trying to hide something, but he's just not that sure if whatever that is might be worth the risk.

A lot of other folks are going out, though.

Otto is not stealthy. He knows this about himself. The second he starts moving around on the actuators with any kind of speed, anyone can hear it. So just for the moment, he's perched on the roof of his own house, observing the happenings on the street below. Maybe there's some sort of guard rotation that he can figure out...?

From up here, he might also be able to see anyone else who's out on the streets.]

v. wildcard

(( hit me up at lluosogrwydd if you want to plot out something else! ))

i; just for the Halibut

[bad_habit]

[Oh... They're gonna say it. But they is a small little grey child which points one of it's four hands at the Doc.]

Lots'a arm! [Pot calling kettle black as it's matching number of legs try and haul his father towards the tank, it's clear if he wasn't currently attached to a leash wrapped around Angels waist that the child would be gone. Thank Satan Hayan had suggested the leash thing, four legs on a toddler is a lot.

Don't ask him how day one went.]

Excuse us, apparently.

[Once at the glass the child stops pressing all four arms against the glass before pointing at the ground where the octopus is indeed coming out of hiding, one wiggling appendage at a time. It causes the child to laugh and what should probably be cute is almost harrowing because its not only has rows of sharp teeth like its parent does it has two sets of fangs one where canines would normally sit and the other just behind. No one asked for a spider-vampire hybrid, but here it is anyway staring at sea critters.

Etraya is weird...]

Izuku "Deku" Midoriya | My Hero Academia | OTA

[wannasmash]

plotting comment if you want to wildcard or ask anything
additional content warnings: teens in danger, violence, MHA spoilers

Maplewood Upper: Gym

Using the gym is a perfectly legitimate afterschool activity, and for once Izuku isn't snooping where he doesn't belong, absent from school, or treating this whole mission as being kidnapped and dropped somewhere dangerous. (Izuku thinks the quaint American(?) neighborhood looks lovely, and he doesn't trust it for a second.)

He stretches and avails himself of the weights. He usually wears a light compression band to cover his worst scar, but the ones on his right hand are still visible. Is this kid really into body building, or...?

It's time to get sweaty. He's not tall, but in high school muscular guys are always intimidating—

"Oh, hi!" Izuku says brightly.

"STAFF ONLY"

Maplewood Upper. Fire Station. City Hall. On the security cameras, Izuku passes by innocuously down a hallway. Offscreen, a mysterious thick smoke blots out the lens. He doubles back unseen before it dissipates harmlessly.

Since he's here during normal hours, he only has a little time. Izuku slips into a room marked STAFF ONLY and begins rifling through a filing cabinet. Resident records, blueprints, robot information, Eos, he's hoping to find anything that will help solve the mystery of the curfew and/or help them escape captivity in the bubbles.

He's only likely to team up with someone he trusts, but also... his stealth is not the best.

He mutters aloud as he skims, "Curfew enforced by robots... And something about the last mission..."

Night Watch

This is just reconnaissance. It's likely he will fail to find anything and be captured. If the robots are as advanced as everyone makes them out to be, a larger team effort is required to produce results. That's for later. But knowledge is power, and Izuku Midoriya is out past curfew in his dark green jumpsuit, superpowers in tow.

He pushes his mask in place over his lower face and tugs his cowl over his head. Battered as these are from previous battles, the normally friendly hero Deku looks like a shady guy breaking in instead of a schoolkid breaking out. He's closing the back door to his assigned house so carefully...

Driver's Ed @nimbuster

[wannasmash]

This is a checklist item—finally, something on the list that can translate to a useful life skill. Izuku does things by the book. Permit in hand, Izuku enters the driver's seat with a reportedly seasoned driver who also happens to be his current guardian: Cloud Strife.

Surely nothing will go wrong.

"Oh... oh no... I forgot... The wheel's on the opposite side! Did the handbook even say anything about this...?"

No, because it assumed he was American. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, but Izuku doesn't know that. He flips through his notes hurriedly.

Peter Parker | MCU | OTA!

[keepitgoing]

⏵ welcome home / Peter Parker ⏴

[Peter looks... so tired.

It's not very long into his current status as 'teenaged single dad', though a week of time certainly feels like an eternity when you've got a robot baby with a mean case of colic. Crying when she's 'fed', crying when she's 'changed', crying when she's sick of society — you name it, Baby has suffered it. And her suffering leads to Peter Parker suffering. Sitting on a park bench and rocking a baby stroller, one may notice he has dozed off and is just doing it on muscle memory now.

Tragic. Absolutely tragic. When he startles back awake, the exhaustion is palpable.

The moment the baby starts making fussy noises, a soft whine of complex human suffering escapes Pete's mouth.]

Please please please don't cry. I'll do anything...

Why does this place do this to people? This is diabolical.

[When the baby is at home, being watched momentarily by poor Connor or Fett, Peter prefers to find somewhere a little more familiar for him — just to catch a moment of peace, really. He climbs up the side of the school when nobody's looking and finds a nice, flat space on the roof that reminds him a lot of home. It's an immediate comfort, somewhere he can lay down and relax. Him and a good book; this one's some kind of Lord of the Rings from another universe or something, but it's no less engaging as he snacks on totally unhealthy junk food he'd bought and carried up in a plastic bag.

And while he's enjoying the quiet? He would not be against the company, if it presented itself.]

⏵ honey do's | Peter Parker ⏴

[Another interesting place to find Peter Parker: at his parttime gig at the local coffee shop. It's actually not that out there, because he had been applying for the local barista gigs back home before he'd arrived here. It just makes sense, right? And frankly, he kind of likes it, even if he sucks at the job at first. There are always so many steps to people's coffees, and it just makes him miss MJ handing him some basic, bland coffee and a doughnut for the road.

Not the time to get heartsick, right? But he can't help but stare at the cup of coffee he's made with a sort of wishful, melancholy frown. Every time he tells himself how ridiculous all of this is, he just thinks about Ned and her, and how their lives could very well be hanging in the balance of whatever these 'tests' are. Makes it hard to do anything else but your best, even if it could all be B.S., right?

... Sorry if he's staring at your coffee cup that you're waiting on.

He'll be here until closing, since he just handles the last few hours of the day there. Feel free to squeeze in a cold bagel and what's left of the drinks, just before closing. He's here mopping and putting up chairs, but he'll more than happily take one down for a world-weary Etrayan who needs a breather.

If you don't find him at the cafe, he may just be completing some of the other silly to-do list tasks.

Knock, knock, neighbors.

His include:

→ Bake a neighbor a cake.
→ Offer to mow a neighbor's lawn.
→ Babysit someone else's child or children.
→ Pet-walk for someone else in the town.
→ Tutor someone struggling with homework.

Feel free to use any of these in a starter.]

⏵ night watch ⏴ | Spider-Man



[Once his baby is put down for the night (please stay asleep all night, missy), Peter sneaks out of his window with his Spider-Man suit donned and ready. He has to admit... it's been easier these days just being Spidey, not Peter. Much easier to just pretend there's nothing else going on behind the mask, or at the very least, there's nothing anyone else can see through. He crawls atop people's roofs with expert quietness, sneaking by robots on patrol and ducking away when his spidey senses go off in a big way; last thing he wants is to stir up trouble. Or to see anyone else wrapped up in it, either.

When he sees another person from Etraya going around in the night, he drops down behind them.]

Psst. What're you doing out here? Don't you know it's dangerous?

[Just how dangerous, he hasn't quite gotten yet. As far as he knows, the bots will probably just escort them back to their homes. In a very rude way, mind you, but that's been the extent of the drama so far.

At some point, that's gonna change.

It starts with Peter hearing something going off in the distance — someone yelling, or some loud, terrible metallic noise. Maybe the sound of gunfire, or metal clanging against metal. Whatever the case may be, Spider-Man's not about to leave you to fight off the bots and their abundant, differing weaponry; he web-slings straight for the heart of the racket, eager to try and get it resolved.

Maybe you're getting dragged back toward your home, or maybe you're in the middle of a nasty skirmish with a bunch of these bots. Either way, Spider-Man's gonna be there and ready to have your back and try to get you outta there in one peace.]

⏵ after night watch ⏴ | Spider-Man

[Knock, knock.

You get the knock at the door at an ungodly hour. What time is it? One in the morning? Gotta be one in the morning. But the knock happens again, this time a little more urgently. If you're quick to answer, Spider-Man will be leaning awkwardly against the front column of your porch, or perhaps the wall of your house, trying to play it cool with folded arms and a casual attitude.]

Hey! Nice night, right? Was just gonna stop in... see how things are going...

[There are obvious rips and tears on his spidey suit that implies he has had ninja stars, knives, and bullets thrown at him. Is that a singed glove? Did he get singed by a flame-thrower? Or even weirder, he may show up with his hands locked together by some weird cartoonishly large cuffs that were deployed on him by the bots.

Basically, just expect him to not look remotely casual despite his tone.

He's just trying to find a place to hunker down and escape the bots currently looking for him.

... And yes, if you don't answer the door quickly enough, he will crawl in through the window.

... Even in the cuffs.]

Closed Starter for Chrissy (and Mike!?)

[keepitgoing]

[One particular night went... poorly. That's a word for it. Peter would think of a lot of other words if he wasn't busy bleeding half of his blood between his fingers. Who would have thought there were bots that had no effect on his danger senses? After all of this time, it had worked like usual — danger here, danger there, danger up above! — until the moment it just didn't. How the end of the fight went doesn't matter as much as him scrambling to get back to his home, sore and dizzy from the pain that is currently pulsing in his lower back, straight through his abs.

Totally shot. On the bright side, it was through-and-through? And on the brighter side, he's pretty sure nothing was hit? but now that the adrenaline's worn off a little, he very quickly realizes he's gonna lose way too much blood for it to be comfortable. In the process of thinking all this, he goes to open what he thinks is his own bedroom window, just to find it — locked? No, this is his house. Right? Did someone lock it behind him?



As Chrissy likely begins to prepare for bed, she'll hear a very concerning tapping noise on the living room window.

Totally not the start of a horror movie. No ma'am.

The bloody handprint on the glass is also not a horror movie thing.

Don't even consider it.]

Mal Durrish | Star Wars: Jedi Academy (OC) | OTA

[once_reborn]

Welcome Home - OPEN

The key, she figured, would be blending in. The first order of business was doing just that - she converted her wardrobe over to mostly light sweaters and jeans - which she had to admit were wonderfully comfortable compared to most of what she'd worn in her life. (A pair or two of slippers made it in, as well, in a concession to that same comfort.) Foremost among her purchases, though, was a curly, reddish-brown bob wig. It itched a little, but it made sure she blended in more than her usual fringe. And given some of her plans, it made extra sense, given the black garments she picked up as well.

Used to crowded planets and other places, the atmosphere is alien to her - but she's adapting as best she can. Since her job is essentially - as she understands it - to keep the home running and not-burned-down...it leaves plenty of time to explore.

She is currently bringing back bags of groceries, unlocking the front door...

Honey Do's

Oh, what a fun list of things there are to do. Some of them, sure, fine, they make perfect sense, and she does them without compunction. Making meals for family members? That she can do, though in all fairness she's working out of cookbooks for anything more complicated than soups or, say, a sandwich.

Others are going to prove...more problematic. The idea of being any sort of spouse and mom is...new. And more than a little challenging. At least she has a good bevy of decisions in her past that convince her of what not to do?

((OOC: Family members! Pick ones off the list you'd wanna do?))

Night Watch - OPEN

The thing is, you can take the girl out of the Jedi Academy, but you can't take the Jedi Academy out of the girl.

The first few nights, she spends some time at an upper window, just observing. Mapping. She starts to fill a notebook with the timing of the bots, their routes. All of this is hidden under a floorboard - the same place she hides an outfit of black clothing and and black ski mask.

Just in case she has to sneak out into the dark to help someone else...

((OOC: As always, happy to do custom prompts, just message me or talk to me on plurk at c_for_characters))

honey do's

[furiousfists]

It's weird, living this false, forced domestic life. Even weirder that she has to do it with one of her "mums" being her sister. But Adaine isn't disappointed that she gets to spend more time with Mal because of it.

She's sitting at the kitchen counter, on one of the tall stools, kicking her feet aimlessly as she watches Mal try to make sense of the kitchen in an attempt to make lunch.

"Honestly, the last time anyone packed a lunch for me, it was four foot-long sub sandwiches in a black garbage bag, so my standards are set fairly low."

kyra vashenko-chao | alex rider

[upbyone]

Schooled

Kyra’s experience begins and ends with a boarding school run by a man who idolized Hitler and wanted to swap her out with a body double to further his goal of global domination. It rather soured her already negative opinion of educational institutions. Her ‘parents’ wouldn’t be able to force her to go to school if she didn’t want to, even if they tried. But an anxiety is constantly in the back of her mind. Eos is an unknown factor. The worst punishment seems to be not gaining points. But she can’t take the risk that it’s the only possible consequence.

She goes to school. Reluctantly.

Attending school and actually participating in classes are completely different, though. Kyra sits in the back of every class and keeps her head down. Anyone sitting near her will see her writing notes, even if the teacher isn’t talking. The margins of her notebook are covered in doodles. The only class she seems to pay attention in is her elective, survival training. Unfortunately for her, the teacher believes in teamwork, so they’re often paired up with a fellow classmate. Kyra eyes her partner for the day. “Let’s get started.” The lesson for the day could range from filling out worksheets to starting campfires.

Kyra round out her high school experience by getting her very own bully. One day, he stops her in the hall and starts making fun of her, but the apologetic look in his eyes ruins it-- this is an assignment for him. So she brushes it off until he makes the mistake of grabbing her arm. Then her training kicks in: she turns on her heel and decks the poor kid. So she’s unceremoniously dragged by a teacher to the detention hall. As she takes her seat, the teacher takes a moment to admonish her: “Fighting, Miss Vashenko-Chao? I expect better from you.” Kyra just rolls her eyes in response. “I don’t even know you,” she mumbles. Anyone caught looking at her will just get a frown in return.

After-School Specials

Whatever she’s doing on the library computers isn’t typical research. She has several command lines open and is rapidly typing some code, her brow furrowed in concentration. Kyra hasn’t gotten far yet-- she’s having to write an algorithm from scratch-- but it feels good to do something she’s good at again. At points, someone nearby might hear her mumble about syntax, thread-safe events, or variables being out of scope.

Honey-Dos

The most irritating part of this experience is the to-do list that magically appears on the fridge every day.

Some are easy.

1. see a movie
2. learn a new skill
3. go for a walk in the park

Some are much more difficult.

1. go shopping with a new friend
2. audition for a play
3. attend a slumber party

Misc

PM me or contact me on starpaths if you want to do anything special. I’d also rather plot out Night Watch prompts so that she’s not wandering vaguely around alone.

for alex (seenitall)

[upbyone]

A few days ago, Kyra woke up to a new task:
Ask someone on a date.

It's a foregone conclusion who it would be. Alex is the only person she knows well enough to ask. Picking him for her assignment was easy. Actually working up the nerve to ask is going to be hard. Because she likes him. A lot. He could say no or, worse, say yes only out of obligation.

Kyra finds him immediately after school one day. That's pretty normal for them, sticking together as much as they can even while being in separate 'families.' Except today, Kyra looks nervous. Before he can even say anything, she blurts out:

"Can we talk? Somewhere?"

She has her hard-won nerve in a mental death-grip right now.

Hob Gadling | Sandman | OTA

[100more]

Hob at work - Tailor shop

[ It's a little strange, going to work in a world that isn't his own. Sure, it seems a lot like Earth, but in a 1960s sitcom kind of way. And why did they ever give him a job at a tailor shop? Hob doesn't know anything about being a tailor. Sure, he's been to a tailor plenty of times in the old days, but not so much anymore, and he doesn't know how to sew except to string a button back on one of his sport coats. Thankfully? the natives working there give him a bit of training so he can do some basic tasks and not fail his mission entirely. At least he's a fast learner.

So while the real tailors are busy with work, Hob is left to man the shop and greet anyone who happens to walk in. All in all, it's not such a bad place to spend his workday, but he does worry how his other housemates are getting along, especially with a baby at home. When the door opens, he greets everyone cheerfully. ]

Welcome. What can I do for you?

After work hours - A pub

[ In an effort to feel a little more as if he's back in London, Hob goes into a pub on the way home from work. He doesn't intend to linger long, since there's that whole curfew business and he wants to head home to ensure everyone at the house is getting along alright, but when he walked by the place, he couldn't help but stop in.

Hob claims a seat at the bar and orders a draft beer, then looks around a little to see who else might be about. When his eyes meet another's, he smiles and nods in a polite way. ]

Good evening.

Wildcard

[ Insert your starter here. Open to any public/town location for a run-in. ]

At Work

[abit_ofboth]

[If Loki were anyone else, his head would be spinning at how much everything keeps changing from moment to moment. Thankfully, his last few hundred years at the TVA had been nothing but a chaotic mess, so going from the strange space station to this odd little Midgardian town is only mildly strange.

Really, the strangest part for him is having a job. Like a real job as opposed to his work saving the multiverse. They both are work, he supposes, but this feels like a huge waste of time. Even if he does kind of like his job. He always did enjoy visiting museums. Now he got to choose what they put on display.

Loki is not about to be distracted by such things enough to forget his true mission of finding whoever is in charge around here though, and as such, when he gets a lunch break, he wanders the town. He stops for a moment and looks in the window of the tailors shop and wonders if he should check out the suits. He can conjure up whatever he wants, but it is best to blend in, see what’s in fashion. It’s at that moment that he sees a familiar face inside.

With a smile on his face, Loki enters.]

Well, fancy meeting you here.

fabian seacaster | dimension 20: fantasy high | ota!

[maximumlegend]

( a. cop )

[ Have you been doing something you shouldn't? It could be incredibly minor, really, as long as it might be enough for this weird fake city to ping the police for it. Or maybe you didn't do anything wrong, but you did try calling the police.

Either way, you might notice a police motorcycle pulling up outside your house, or wherever you are when it happens. Off the motorcycle steps-- well, perhaps not the most typical-looking cop in the world. For one, he's got a good amount of the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, exposing bare skin and a golden necklace. He's also wearing one of those baby slings on his back with the head of one of those fake animatronic babies peeking out from over his shoulder. Combined with the lack of a cap and the big golden neck tattoo the guy seems to be sporting-- well, he doesn't seem to be one for uniform or appearance protocol, that's easy to see. ]

.. uh.

[ Something about him seems a little awkward too. Like he isn't really used to this - or like his colleagues just shoved him out here without giving him a real idea of what he's supposed to do. Or maybe he just doesn't want to do this job, but has very little choice. ]

So.. what's happening here? [ Nailed it. ]

( b. dad )

[ Okay, so maybe work isn't going great. But at home-- things are also not going great.

In fact, Fabian might get desperate enough to just go around knocking on doors. Maybe he happens to be knocking on yours, and if you open it, you'll find the teenager standing there with one of those fake animatronic babies in his arms - while it seems to be crying its little heart out. Absolute wailing. Sorry for the noise, neighbour. ]

I-- [ Fabian looks for a moment like he's attempting to formulate a coherent question, but then settles on a panicked: ] What do I do?!

[ HELP?? ]

( c. disaster )

[ Maybe things aren't going great at all. If you know Fabian and have either seen him around town or been in touch with him during the mission, you may be realising something is off. Not right away, but as the days pass Fabian does start looking off. His hair is looser than the usual, there's dark circles near his eyes, sometimes his shirts seem just a little dirty. Occasionally he might seem to space out in the middle of a conversation you're having, only to brush past it with a laugh like nothing ever happened.

If you're worried enough to go seek him out about it and end up at his house, Fabian will open the front door to see who's out there - though he weirdly only opens it a little crack, like he's obviously trying to hide something. ]

Hello! I-- uh, it is great to see you, but I am slightly occupied right now! You know, it's.. uh, nothing big, I just need a slight moment!

[ Very subtle. Not suspicious at all. He's still not opening up the door further either. ]

Can it wait? I can totally come see you later!

( d. wildcard )

[ Does none of the above really suit anything we might have planned or something you'd like to do with Fabian during this event? Feel free to just drop your own wildcard starter under this toplevel and we'll get going! If you'd rather have me write up a personal starter for you that's a little different from the above, just let me know either through a pm or over at queeningsquare! ]

b

[neverleave]

[You know what's worse than trapped inside all night under the threat of horrifying sounds and violent security robots?

Being trapped inside with the AI baby next door screaming all. Night. Long. Natsuno headed outside the second the curfew listed just to get away from that goddamn noise.

Turns out it's still screaming when he comes back. Not that Natsuno wants to do his "homework," but even half-assing it is impossible with those wails. He's looking for the right music to blast loudly when someone's knock on the door. It's Fabian and his screeching baby, and Natsuno looks at both without a shred of sympathy.]

Just smash it.

[Surely he's joking! The lack of expression and emotionless voice are the mark of a true comedian.]

Angel Dust | Hazbin Hotel | Open Starters

[bad_habit]

Little Boxes;

He wasn't sure how he felt about all this, on the one hand it was kinda nice not having to worry about long torturous days solving puzzles and sleeping outside in an ever changing maze. The audacity! And there didn't seem to be any sort of strange gifts given to them aside from the AI kids, which really wasn't that strange considering the nature of Etraya in the first place.

But all this little fake community thing was still so weird but hey from everything Angel understood about them he was pretty fit to do well at this. Which was nice because he really needed a win. And as strange as it all was he was really going to make it work, he was going to be the best damn community member he could be at least on the outside!

So first thing on the docket? Tacking up flyers on the various lamp posts in the sprawling neighbourhood. They boast about an exercise group up in the early morning starting with stretches and then a brisk neighbourhood walk. If he's hanging them up he's more than welcome to answer questions otherwise show up at sunrise he'll be there bright and early.

Lets get Baked;

Angel had, had a really weird upbringing when it came to community. His family was very close, and his family was very big, his street lined with grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and beyond. But when it came to the people around them? There was little interest, aside from how they benefitted the family. So they didn't do anything involving the community, or anything in it. If anything his family was more of a hinderance to their community then anything and Angel's 'hometown' isn't so great at it either so he might be trying to overcompensate.

And what a better way then a bake off, right? That was a thing in his time, he's sure of it. People would do bake sales, which was really just a way to show off. There was no point in the sale part of it so why even pretend, go straight to the throat. All dishes will be taken by Angel and put together in such a way at the end of the week at the local park where even if you didn't participate you are more than welcome to come and snack and vote. There isn't anything to really win aside from the accolades of your neighbours, but hey that's an award in and of itself!

Honey-Dos;

Angel is going to work hard on the list that appears on the day to day, he's been taking his family duties pretty seriously. Some of the ones on the list others can find him doing such as;
-Going out to the park.
-Shopping!
-Start a youth soccer league.
-Hosting a community movie night.
-Mowing the lawn. (He has no idea how this thing works, please send help.)

Out All Night;

Angel will not be participating in any after hours activity. However if there is someone in danger after hours Angel will be willing to help them out in the sense that they should always have a safe space at his house. If they can make it there without being killed first.

Just try not to bleed out on his fine rugs before he can stitch you up.

[[ooc; the easiest way to reach me for this event is going to be discord at 'fridgeart'. There's a lot of stuff going on irl but i am planning on being around quite a bit as i need the distraction and am really down for anything. Plotting stuff is here for other ideas! General content warning for this plot line will likely include complicated family relationship discussion, including abuse both physical and mental, and violent crime mentions. Anything else will be tagged as it comes up.]]

bake off

[anciently]

[ Aerith is not a baker by any means, but...how hard can it be, right? ]

Angel! [ Which is how she comes to be at the event he organized, waving cheerfully with one hand and sporting some kind of dessert in the other (masked by a lot of tin foil). ] How are you?

[ She approaches with a smile, though a slight misstep has her stumble a bit, nearly sending the prepared dessert flying into the grass. ]

...Whoops! Kinda uneven over here. [ Anyway, no harm, no foul. ] This was a great idea; I'm glad you thought of it! This has gotta be one of the more fun ways to complete a mission around here, right? At least, compared with some stuff from the last few months...

Natasha Romanoff 🕷️ MCU

[blackhourglass]

🕷️ A. I'm a what?
Out of all the jobs Natasha has held in her life, she's never had to take on the role of housespouse. Perhaps she's pretended to be a girlfriend, and even a daughter once upon a lifetime ago. The role of mother was one that Natasha never thought she'd find herself in, simply ever. She'd long ago resigned herself to the fact that this wasn't a life she could have and then right before coming here she ultimately sacrificed her life for the hope of saving her universe.

a. Yet here she is at a baby store, surrounded by all these things and she has no idea where to start. The baby came with a basket and a change of clothes, but not much else. How is she supposed to know what to get. Her cart is half full. She's got a bathtub, a host of stuffed animals, a weird looking mobile thing, but that's about it. Violet, her infant girl is cooing softly in her carrier thankfully as Natasha babbles about some mission she went on, but there's still the look of panic in her eyes as she stands and looks at a wall of pacifiers.

Turning to the nearest person, she sighs and starts in a slightly panicked voice. "Do you have any clue what works and what doesn't? I mean, I don't know the last thing about what she needs. I don't even know what size clothes to get her. How do you know what size clothes babies wear? I mean, hell, I only have three diapers left, what happens when I run out.. Shit. Sorry. I'm. I'm new at this, very, very new."

b. Still, she's trying her best. The young Violet, named because of her unusual skin color doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word quiet. She's been fussing all morning, and no matter what Nat does, she can't seem to calm her. Nat is certain it's something that she's doing wrong. She wasn't ever supposed to be a mom. It's biologically impossible. This was not supposed to happen. Feeling like she's about to smother in this idealistic house that reminds her too much of a small house she lived in so many years ago, she places the fussy robot in a stroller and heads to the local park.

It's not the lack of sleep that brings her to the edge, she's used to that. It's all the damn emotions. What the hell is she supposed to do with a family, with a baby she's supposed to stay at home with all day and another kid who she has to pick up later. She settles on a bench to watch the people go by. Looking out, she doesn't even notice when someone settles next to her, a completely unnatural occurrence for Natasha.

🕷️ B. An Evening at the Aquarium

[Who says that she needs a partner to go on a date. Natasha hasn't needed anyone for quite some time, and having a little time to sneak away from the calamity of the house and all the people there is refreshing. She doesn't know when she was last at an aquarium. It's not all that late due to the curfew and all, but she can pretend that she's back home alone and doing something for herself.

Watching a particular tank with a variety of colorful jellyfish that glow brightly under blacklight, she places her hand up to it as she moves around the circular tank, eyes wide in awe. ]

Phenomenal, aren't they? Look like they've come from some rave party.

🕷️ C. Give a little, Get a little.

[After getting somewhat settled into her household, Natasha decides that one of the best ways to find out information is to put out the call for all the housespouses to get together in one way or another. So, she puts out an invite to all her neighbors in Moorecroft to join together at her house for the one and only Margarita Evening Patchwork Quilt Club, making note that all experience levels are invited. Natasha herself has no idea how to quilt, but she's read some books, and is hoping that someone invited might have an idea. The first meeting will discuss the how tos, and other more important information. The club will meet at least twice a week, days and time to be negotiated after the first meeting.]

🕷️ D. Wildcard

[Please feel free to give a start to any sort of idea that you have. Open to most everything! If you'd like a custom starter you can drop a note here on my plotting comment, or send us a PM. ]

Night 1; text; un: vdova

[waytodie]

Sestra.
I am losing my mind already.
This place is like American sitcoms everywhere you look.

[This curfew is ridiculous. She is an adult, dammit! Hence the bored text.]

dean winchester | supernatural - ota

[venatoris]

welcome home;

[ Dean has seen a lot of strange shit in his life - monsters of all kinds, demons, Lucifer himself. He's experienced it too, been a demon himself, bore the Mark of Cain, spent decades in hell - but this has to be one of the weirdest experiences of his life. It's right outta the Stepford Wives, but with more urban fantasy. Elves? Orcs? Fairies?

(the only surprising thing about the fairies, though, is that at least everyone else can see them this time, so that's a nice turn of events.)

Sam's better at small talk but Dean is better with people; he's friendly until given a reason not to be, but he's a little jumpy with all the very obvious creatures around him he's used to hunting but isn't able to kill. Well, he could, maybe. But it's probably a one way ticket to either prison or an early grave or mass rioting and so he won't. Instead he'll awkwardly wave at his neighbors and smile and wonder what the hell kind of mission this really is. Harmony in La La Land? Hell if he knows.

At any rate he's got a part to play, and he can be found at the grocery store loading up on various bits and bobs; meat, some veggies because apparently there's a freakin' kid involved, alcohol (NOT for the kid), cereal, etc. He also investigates the aquarium because he's never been in one before. When was there time? With their demon obsessed father on a rage killing porn spree, when was there time to to stuff like that? He didn't get to play soccer like Sam, he didn't go on field trips or have 'friends'. Only time he had any damn freedom was the boys home pops had left him in as a teen, and that was probably the best three months of his life.

Anyway. He's staring at the stupid fish and drinking it in, wandering from tank to tank, trying not to look as interested as he really is, pretending he's not reading every single description and soaking up the info like liquor on an empty stomach.

Oh yeah, he's also clothes shopping, too. He won't be ice skating because a bow legged man like him isn't coordinated enough, but he's also at the movie theater munching popcorn and catching up on as many movies as he can, since last he knew, it was 2015. Catch him at the Eras Tour, bishes. ]

honey do;

[ If he's being honest, Dean himself would even admit he's a great little Stepford wife. Husband. Spouse. Whatever. He likes to cook and bake, he's used to cleaning up after Sam (sort of, anyway, you get to a point when you're in your twenties living out of hotels, and you too will leave your dirty socks in the sink and get crumbs in the bed.

Still, when Dean and Sam found the bunker, things changed. He started taking care of things - not just his own, but stuff around the place, too. He finally had a place he could call home, a place he could nest. Something of his own that didn't include questionable mattresses and quarters shoveled into magic fingers machines. In Etraya, it's just him (and Cas when he wants), and he's keeping the same bunker immaculate and clean, just as he is this house. SO, he can be found doing the following:

* Bringing you a pie if you live on his block
* Tinkering outside on the car parked in the driveway; isn't his baby but it'll do
* Out grocery shopping again
* Learning a new skill - which means he's going to be testing out fondant icing after watching how to vids
* Feeding the neighborhood AKA grilling out - want a burger? Don't mind the classic rock he's got blasting.
* Going on a date. He's less sure about this one - does that mean with Cas?? Or someone else?? Whatever. Go with him to the movies and it'll count.
* wildcard

He also can be found in local bars, having a drink or simply sitting and enjoying some alone time. ]

(( pretty much ota, if you have something you wanna do hmu via pm or virtuously! i'm open to wildcards, whatever floats your boat! ))

aquarium

[anciently]

[ Dean isn't the only one marveling at the aquarium. In fact, it seems like a pretty common refrain: Aerith's run into more than one other person standing in awe, gazing up at the glass with pure, childlike wonder. She's done it herself, pressing a hand to the tank and following the movements of the fish and other creatures as if in a trance.

This is what she's occupied herself with when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye, which breaks her attention enough for a quick glance. The sight of a familiar face draws out a smile, and she steps over to stand closer to Dean, eyes back on the watery depths ahead. ]

It's really something, huh? [ Those bright, green eyes look almost to be glowing against the light of the display. ] I've never seen anything like this.

[ Maybe they have places like this on the plate, or at the Gold Saucer. In the slums, though, there's no time, or money, or space for something like an aquarium. ]

Wonder if they mind it. Being stared at all day...

Jean Grey | Marvel 616

[heartofthedream]

—open & closed starters—

House & Family Unit
Job: School Nurse
__________

plot with me @
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wanderlustlover

Week 1 — How It's Going

[heartofthedream]

[ Jean isn't enthused about this whole setup, especially given it sits off the laurel ashes of a forced abandonment from Krakoa, the burning Treehouse, of an empty house moon sitting on the moon. Which does not even begin to touch the awkward carefulness she's trying to treat the whole of this situation with Logan, being fake-married and fake-parents. She can't decide which grave is worse—the one where this steps on every crack of her last few years, sharing space and caring for the kids, or the one where he never has, so it is like eggshells, thrifting back to what it was like for them a decade ago, before Krakoa, to carefully suppressed feelings and always avoided words, to his knowing, but never being certain.

He has enough to adjust to with Laura,
and Jean's trying not to be a problem on top of it.
(Without Storm nearby, it's lonely in a whole new way.)

Then, there's Laura, who is home every night now, but it's an enforced requirement and nothing like how she and Ororo have been trying to make the mansion feel safe, like a place she could make a home from once she's comfortable enough with it. Then, there's the baby, and it's been so long since all those years with Nathan Christoper. That's the part that keeps tripping her up, thinking about Scott waiting for her, he and her children (their children, all their children; Rachel, and both of the boys, Laura and Gabby and Akihiro, the Cuckoos), in the middle of a war while she's assigned to be "an idyllic nuclear family life" multiverses away.

She knows how little is being asked of them in the universal balance...

... which makes her even more focused on what's happening at night.




And in the bubble city on the otherside of the planet. ]

Hayan Park | Unholy Blood | OTA

[thorncrown]

MY BIG ITALIAN COMMUNITY DINNER; OTA

[As part of the whole 'host a neighborhood dinner' that had been on the Park family's weekly checklist Hayan and Angel had come to an agreement to try a big italian dinner. Hayan herself had never cooked italian food but she was pretty good with following directions and being a helper in the kitchen at the very least. And all in all besides a ruined or three it had all come out well and now was offered up as a server yourself buffet one afternoon.

You want pasta? There's pasta! You want lasagna? Well that's pasta so yeah, it's there. There's bruschetta, there's gnocchi -- heck there's even tiramisu alongside the cannoli at the desert table!

Hayan is wandering around having the time of her life serving people or helping them find things. As long as most people don't mind the AI toddler strapped to her chest in a carrier. It's a darling little thing with four arms, four legs, big blue eyes with slit pupils and a whole mouthful of fangs just waiting to give anyone a toothy grin! It's almost 90% fluffy fur too if not for the curl of white hair that drapes over the side of it's head.

Now and then it does try to nip at anyone Hayan passes plates of food or dessert to. She pats the toddler's head in what can only be called a loving gesture.]

Sorry. They're at that stage where they want to chew on everything.

THE DAILY GRIND & HONEY DO'S; OTA

[With Angel being labeled the housespouse and Hayan ending up with a day job (as a doctor no less) there's a daily groove that things settle into for her pretty quickly. She shouldn't find it so nice really but it's been months now since she's experienced such predictability in life.

Father Michael's death had left her drifting and bitterly angry that even now she could barely remember what the feeling of just going to school and coming home had felt like. Now she's working and coming home to ... well, a spouse but not a spouse exactly and a child but not a child exactly. She knows it's all fake too but ...

It's nice. It's really nice. Particularly the AI toddler -- she's always been fond of kids though.

During the week people can find her from eight am to around four pm in the local doctor's office. She does have some medical know-how thankfully and the NPC staff and nurses are all pretty good to be honest.

On the weekends Hayan can be found doing a number of things, ranging from:
* Mowing the lawn. The push mower gives her a headache at first but as the week rolls by she seems to fight it less.
* Putting up decorative lights. Hayan looks pretty at home with a hammer in her hand, a nail between her lips and her shirt sleeves rolled up to be honest. She greets anyone pauses nearby with a big grin and a wave of her hammer ... well, hand, but the hammer is in it too!
* Taking the baby for a walk. Sure she's pushing a stroller but she often just had that AI toddler of hers on a leash. Now and then she's out with just an empty stroller and a sheepish look as she admits to anyone who glances over that, "Sometimes the baby outruns both of us." Basically it's taking Angel for a drag while it runs around on all fours eights.]

WILDCARD;

[Did I miss a prompt you'd like to do? Maybe bring over a pie or take Hayan on some Mommy & Me type of outing? Whatever it is feel free to plunk it here! Plurk (goodluckstarfighter) is open as well as PMs!]

Closed;

[thorncrown]

Almost! Just a little more and --

[Hayan has to rely on those lightning vampiric reflexes of hers but she finally lets out a sigh of relief and sags in Angel's uplifted hold.

The fuzzy toddler clutched to her chest squirms and makes various displeased sounds at being caught. Hayan makes little shushing noises but in the end said toddler peers around Hayan's arm down at her "father" with big watery blue eyes.]