where we're going--

[polymods]

✖ EVENT HORIZON

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
There has always been some confusion as to whether or not the ferry cuts through sea or sky, but this month as you glide along you will find yourself more and more convinced that it is the latter. It is nigh impossible to see where you are headed, the way forward shrouded in darkness.

At first you think the lights ahead are stars.

The ferry docks inside of a metallic bay of some kind. It’s an extension of what must be the island, although this one does not resemble any earthly land mass. It appears to be a deliberately constructed structure, contained on all sides. Maybe you’re familiar enough with technology or science fiction enough that you realise it resembles a space station more than an island.

Once you’ve disembarked from the ferry, you will find that you cannot go outside of the structure.

Inside, there are seemingly endless corridors for you to explore. The halls on the upper deck are rounded, metallic, with lights set at regular intervals. Here there are chambers roughly the length and width of a single bed, with sufficient height for a person to crawl in and sit up on the bed. There is a television screen set in the wall at the foot of the bed by the door, and sockets for electronics. That is all.


Also on this floor is a mess hall where you can get beige, mostly tasteless nutritional sludge dispensed from machines. Water and coffee are also available, likewise dispensed from machines. (There is a cookbook hidden on a shelf written by one Serak the Preparer, but no ingredients anywhere.) There are private showers and bathrooms, a small gym, and rooms clearly meant as places for people to sit and talk. There is a medical bay, although there is no staff. In fact, the whole place seems empty.

There are some rooms that are locked - these look like offices. The doors to these rooms are extremely difficult to break down, but if you have superhuman strength you could manage it. Or maybe you’re clever enough to work the electronic panels beside the doors.

Inside you will find round monitors on the walls and square tablet-like devices on desks. Attempt to work any of these and a soft, pleasant but emotionless voice will inform you that you do not have access. You can try to speak to the AI - called MUTHER - but it is supremely uncooperative. Someone very good with technology could use the tablet the old fashioned way, perhaps, to access files. You might want to be careful, though - MUTHER might decide to retaliate. Harshly.

There doesn’t seem to be a temple anywhere readily apparent.

Notes:
1. The High Temple and anything characters may have stored there is only accessible to those who are experiencing their first island outside of the TDM via a marked door. Everyone else must make do with what is available.

2. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.

3. The televisions play mostly game shows. You can also find a set of controllers for it and play Pong. Just Pong.

4. MUTHER will not deliberately kill any people on the station - her programming forbids it. She is not above releasing hallucinogenic gas into the air vents, though.

5. Have fun!

---

Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE
CW: psychological trauma, threat of death.
It’s easy to get lost; nearly identical corridors branch off from one another. As you walk along you gradually become convinced that someone is following you. Periodically you’ll hear footsteps, a sigh, a rustle of cloth. But every time you turn around you see nothing… unless it’s one of your fellow Travelers. Or maybe you run into them because you’re so busy looking over your shoulder.

Regardless, as you walk along the lights in the corridor flicker, and when they turn back on you will find someone you know standing directly in your path. Someone who you know absolutely cannot be there.

Maybe they died. Maybe you haven’t spoken in years. Whoever they are, the feeling they inspire within you is one of intense guilt. You did something to this person, something for which you think you can never be forgiven.

The apparition might speak, or it might just watch you with silently accusing eyes. You begin to wither under its gaze, feeling weaker and weaker until you can barely stand. You just want to lay on the floor and close your eyes… maybe forever.

Your fate rests in the hands of whoever is with you or finds you. All they have to do is introduce a smidgen of doubt into your mind, a recognition that maybe it isn’t all your fault. Of course, that means you might have to tell them what you did.

Oh, dear.

Notes:
1. The severity of the offense is of course up to the player - this can be deadly serious, or played for laughs. No matter how it is played the only way to save a character from sleeping on the floor until they die from dehydration is to convince them of even the possibility that they might not be guilty. They do not have to feel completely absolved.

---

Ⅲ. STOWAWAY
CW: monstrous creatures.
The lower decks of the station are darker, more utilitarian looking. These are corridors that lead to rooms full of computers and machinery that keep the station running so it’s probably best to keep out of there.

There are also storage bays filled with both prosaic wooden crates and large metallic pods. Most of these are locked up tight. But not all. Investigate some of the pods and you’ll find that the floor around them is wet with some sort of milky, slimy substance that sure seems like it came from a living organism.

Maybe you should get out of here.

Before you can get good and gone to the upper decks, however, you find exactly what you probably didn’t want to unless you have a very exciting Tinder profile: an alien.

At least eight feet tall, with pale almost translucent skin, the creature has an elongated skull and a mouth that hosts two sets of jaws like a moray eel. It has a whiplike tail and spiky protrusions along its upper back. It is bipedal, and very, VERY fast.

Better hope you’ve got something to fight with! Your chances of survival are definitely greater if you work with a partner.

And you better hope there’s just the one.

Notes:
1. The aliens are extremely dangerous, but they CAN be killed. Their blood is thick and yellow but is not acidic or poison.

---

Ⅳ. TEMPLE
CW: potential insanity, violence.
If you wander the dark lower decks long enough, you will find yourself moving ever inward toward the very center of the station. There is a door there that is supposed to be locked, but often isn’t. It’s waiting for you, beyond that door and down a dark corridor: the station’s heart.

The room the solitary corridor opens into is round, walls sloping gently up to a domed ceiling. In the middle of the room is a machine of some kind: a series of concentric thick metal rings rotate in different directions around a sphere. The only noise it makes is the gentle swooshing of the circles as they spin out, up, around.


The air feels heavy and charged. It’s not pleasant.

Before you can leave, all of the rings line up so that they appear to radiate out from the sphere in the center. Light flares, and then in the space where the sphere once was you can see it:

Home.

It’s your homeworld, perhaps exactly as you left it, or perhaps earlier or later along in the timeline. It may be pleasant, or it may be awful, but it is undeniably the place from which you came. The place where you belong.

Stare into this portal home long enough and the compulsion to return will slip over you. You just need to jump into the glowing, trembling center of that dimensional gate.

Whoever is with you, however, realises that leaping headfirst into an unknown dimension might not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had, especially considering how ominous the whole place feels. They might be able to talk you down. Hopefully they can talk you down, because the longer you stare at the portal the more convinced you become that you MUST leap into it, and the only way to do so is to kill whoever is trying to get in your way.

If instead you turn away from the dimensional gate, the lights will flare once more before the rings resume their movement. That brief glimpse of home is gone. In its place is the sound of soft voices; people you have left behind, calling out to you with accusations of things left undone, begging to be told why you won’t come home...

These voices will follow you throughout the ship. They are not constant, but they never leave you alone for very long. They won’t be silent until you give them an answer to the question of why you have chosen to remain.

Notes:
1. If characters DO jump into the gate… They can pass through and emerge on the opposite side gravely injured or completely out of their minds. Or you may use this as a very dramatic exit from the game.

Is anybody out there listening?

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

Questions, comments, concerns?

[polymods]

Ask awaaaaay!

[unkindled_madness]

What kind/level of equipment is available in the med bay? Star Trek scans or barely stocked first aid equipment? Could characters theoretically run blood tests and the like?

[helpdesk_hero]

Would MUTHER tolerate conversations with a technopath?

And furthering that question, is there any surface information David might be able to pull from the tablets? His technopathy and experience as a hacker and computer programmer would probably get him in, but given the fact that MUTHER is clearly an AI, she could easily hurt him and throw him from her systems the millisecond she noticed him, so he probably would only be able to gain maybe a single file I think, or steal out some information for more traditional access attempts.

The Sphere Portal

[howlett]

Can someone throw an object through it? How would that go?

Who you gonna call?

[naturaldisasster]

Are there any actual ghosts aboard this thing?

Darin Altway | Original Character | OPEN TO ALL

[forgeabettertomorrow]

-ARRIVAL-
[It was kind of a shame. After spending a month in that last city, Darin was beginning to get used to staying in one place for, at least, a little while. But just a few short weeks was all it took before he was, literally, ferried to a new location.]

[All it took was a few minutes wandering around this almost too-sterile environment to put a pretty dour taste in Darin's mouth.]

[When he's not exploring to keep from going absolutely mad, he's hanging around the mess hall making sculptures out of the nutrient sludge they're being forced to eat. Approach him at the wrong time and you might be gunning for a food fight.]

[You might also find him in one of the offices that he'd used his strength to force open. It's possible to have caught him in the act, but if not, you'll hear him arguing with MUTHER as she proves to be very unhelpful. He's got his face pressed angrily against a screen, thinking it's a window and not...you know, a monitor.]

What the hell is your damn problem?! How many times do I have to ask for access?! How do I get it?! Don't make me come in there because I'm about to crawl through this tiny ass window!

-CONSCIENCE-
[Since he's not getting anywhere in the administrative offices, Darin decides he'd be better off exploring. Given the size of the station though, he's more than aware of how easily he or anyone really can get lost. After raiding the med bay for some supplies, he's drawing a map as he explores. Occasionally, he stops to mark the wall to keep track of his progress and it's at one of these points he stops and starts looking around.]

...Hello? Oi...! Who's following me? Don't screw around, come out!

[Silence.]

...Oooookay. You know what? I can take a hint. That's enough exploring for today.

[He packs up and starts to move back the way he came...but he's far more interested in looking over his shoulder. Which is why he'll run full steam into someone as they round the corner.]

GAAAAH!! WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!?!

-STOWAWAY-
[He'd managed to find his way to the lower decks in his explorations. Anyone who's tagged along with him will note that he's incredibly methodical. He catalogs everything he finds and makes detailed sketches and maps. Sometimes it takes him hours to go through a couple of corridors, but in doing so he's learning about the station. If you've shown to be technologically inclined, Darin will be asking tons of questions; computers and other tech like this is thousands of years ahead of what he knows...in any under circumstance this would be fascinating to him.]

[It's when he comes across one of those cracked open pods that his demeanor changes for the worse. He pulls a hand out dripping with the milky white slime, a look of disgust crossing his features.]

...I think it's time we mosey. I've been in a enough monster nests to know what comes next and I would really feel better with a weapon of some kind...

We need to move.

[His next words are interrupted by the sound of claws scrabbling against metal, drawing his attention to the ceiling.]

Now! Go! Go! Go!

-TEMPLE-
[This room definitely seemed important. After all of the exploring, all of the terrifying encounters, Darin felt like he was finally getting somewhere.]

[He moves around the outer perimeter of the room, watching the large metal rings move almost hypnotically.]

It's...gotta be a power source or something...right? I mean, what other function could it serve...?

[He stops back at the entrance, looking at the sphere in the center.]

I'm...not a fan of the kind of pressure I'm feeling in here. Whatever this energy is...you think it's dangerous?

[As more and more doubt creeps into his voice, the rings start to slow down bit by bit. Finally, they come to a stop, aligned, and the gate opens. Darin shields his eyes from the burst of light and when they adjust again, his eyes go wide.]

[Replacing the sphere in the center of the device is a gate...a portal of some kind. Through it, a large kingdom can be seen; bustling with people, skies a beautiful blue. Unsure of what he's looking at, Darin can only utter a single word:]

Alvale...?

[He walks the perimeter again, moving to the other side of the portal...and what he sees makes all of the color wash from his face. Follow him and you'll see the same kingdom from the other side of the gate. But this version of the kingdom is in ruins. It's burned to the ground and the streets and skies are filled with demonic beings and monsters. Everything is destroyed.]

[Darin grits his teeth and clenches his fists so tightly that his nails dig into his skin, drawing blood.]

What...what is this? Is this a gate? A portal?? What the hell is going on?!

-WILDCARD-
[Got another idea or want to hash out how you want a thread to go? Hit my up at bitterbearface]

ARRIVAL

[helpdesk_hero]

It's not a window.

[The ruckus had brought David to investigate, of course. The man was poking around himself, taking advantage of the powers he'd gained in the ImPort world to enter doors with little more than a touch and a thought at the control panels. Getting in was easy. Getting anything from the systems was a lot harder.

But still, hearing someone in a shouting match was intriguing, so he'd entered, and the threat that the man was shouting almost earned a snicker from David. That was so impossible to believe.]

It's a screen, displaying information. And the voice isn't coming from inside of it, but rather all around us. It's a very complex computer program I believe.

Sephiroth

[unkindled_madness]

I. This is Fine [OTA]

[Sephiroth's first impression of this "island" is actually a positive one. It's quiet and utilitarian, and while Shinra's space program hasn't progressed far enough to get any people in space, he can recognize the likely purpose of this structure. The notion of space travel has its fascination.

Then he finds the sleeping quarters, and a shadow seems to settle over everything. These rooms are even smaller than his cell in the lab. He can't sleep here.

The offices locked by electronic panels remind him of the ones occupied by the scientists and security guards who monitored him. The medical bay is the stuff of nightmares. Even the metallic walls are, of course, like anywhere in the Shinra building. He can't escape it.

In the early days here, you may encounter Sephiroth pacing the halls with a growing tension. He carries his sword at all times, the long blade angled upwards behind his back. He does not appear to be sleeping, though you might occasionally catch him in the mess hall-- more likely for the coffee than the nutritional sludge.]


II. Aliens vs Alien [Closed to Loki]

[This is the first time they've come to a place devoid of any inhabitants. Maybe that should be concerning, but for Sephiroth the puzzle of what might have happened to them is a welcome one for his mind to latch onto. While the computer is uncooperative, there are no obvious clues on the upper decks. No bodies, no damage, no shortage of air or sustenance.

His quest for explanation carries him down into the lower decks. The machinery is unfamiliar but he studies it for any similarities to the reactors and machines he knows. It all seems perfectly functional.

Did he hear movement somewhere?

He turns, gripping the Masamune. After a beat of silence, he continues cautiously down the corridor, until he catches sight of a familiar figure and relaxes, slightly. Of course he wasn't the only one who thought to come down here.]


((Seph is scheduled for a breakdown this month so I may be tacking on additional prompts later as that progresses. You can hit me up at yinza if you want to get in on the plotting!))

( ii )

[dothelokimotion]

[ there are no ghosts here.

that's what he told himself when he saw the visage of queen frigga, her arms outstretched towards her, am I not your mother? and loki could not breathe, could not speak. he fled, cowardly to the end. he clutches his chest, trying to regulate his breathing. normally, this wouldn't be an issue. but his throat started to ache under the weight of frigga's mournful gaze and it's as if everything else came crashing down. he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't even be alive. he was supposed to be — supposed to be —

he hears a skitter. too soft for footsteps. his survival instincts kick in, a dagger coolly sliding into his palm. something approaches. he's too weak for a real fight, but that doesn't mean loki is weak. ]

I. This is Fine

[quire]

For as much complaining as he did about Victorian London, Quentin doesn't exactly seem thrilled to be here either. At least he has the luxury of feeling familiar with this place though. As evidenced by the way he shuffles around barefoot to fetch himself a cup of coffee. Wearing a pair of the draw string pants from the medical bay and a bathroom robe around his shoulders he resembles some kind of overly comfortable inpatient around here.

"That's a lot of sword. Even for someone your size."

i

[wwrench]

At first, Wrench is just as smitten at the idea of their new temporary home. Of all the islands they've traipsed and the strange inhabitants he's encountered, this feels the most like something he might have chosen for himself. He can almost imagine himself as a young child, staring at a picture book of outer space and dreaming that one day he might find occasion to peer at Earth from a different vantage point.

It's not long until the reality sets in, however. He may not be quite as disillusioned by their living quarters, but the sameness of everything that surrounds him has proven tiring. He's poked at a few panels and tugged at a few doors, but hasn't yet gone far enough at testing his luck to give a good effort at seeing what's behind any one of them.

When he encounters Sephiroth with the enormous blade strapped to his back, he cocks an eyebrow and signs so the ScryWatch can interpret, You the designated lookout for this corridor or what?

I

[helpdesk_hero]

No offense, you look like you could stand to sleep.

[This comment was coming from David, who seemed contently occupied in the corner of the mess hall, nursing a cup of coffee, a tablet from one of the offices discarded on the table in front of him. Between the being a tech genius and the whole technopathy thing, retrieving this had been easy. But he hadn't tried to crack the thing yet. Even the first attempt had led to the voice of MUTHER and David was worried about delving too deep, as it were.

No one needed to be on a killer space station.]

Coffee?

i

[mewnifestos]

[ This whole place is a nightmare. Trapped inside, no way out - even the Deep Roads had ways out, if far fewer and farther in-between than he'd like. No darkspawn, maybe, but Anders isn't willing to bet on that for long; he's wandered far enough to get a glimpse of the lower levels, heard noises around corners and found no one there. He isn't having the usual nightmares, but only because he's been largely unable to sleep.

And maybe that's, possibly, somehow connected to his waking phantoms, now, but far be it for him to stop and examine it, rather than simply wallowing alone in fresh paranoia.

Or, well, mostly alone. He's got his cat, of course, as always - and the both of them have spent a fair amount of time lurking in the cafeteria. It's roomier than the horrid cells they're expected to sleep in (coffins is what they are). And people do come and go. Of course, when he sees Sephiroth coming, perhaps making a beeline for that coffee again, he can't leave it without comment. ]

I suppose you're enjoying this place as much as I am? You look almost as bad as I feel. [ Well, bad for him. Sephiroth still has that seemingly unflappable composure about him, but the tension lying over it is painfully evident. ]

Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son

[prodigalmess]

I. ARRIVAL

Thanks, he hates it.

After the colorful and lively (though sometimes deadly) streets of the Victorian isle that they just left, this place feels sterile and bland. It also feels just a tad like a nightmare. All of the hallways look the same, and Malcolm can't shake the feeling that something awful happened here. He feels like something is going to jump out at him at any second. It gives him the creeps.

Malcolm frows at his tiny cell chamber. There's barely enough room in it for he and Sunshine. The bird chirps loudly in her cage, the sound echoing off of the metallic walls.

She sounds agitated. "Yeah," he says. "Me too."

Maybe the sound of the bird draws your attention, or maybe you're looking for a cubby hole to call your own as well.

II. TEMPLE

The brief look at home was nice, and even though Malcolm did feel a pull to jump through the sphere, a bigger part of his common sense knew that it wouldn't actually lead him home. That would be too easy.

Since then, Malcolm's been hearing a disembodied whisper. It doesn't happen all the time, but when he hears it, he realizes that it's actually multiple voices. His mother and his sister's voices don't bother him as much, but when he hears his father's voice, it's absolutely chilling for him. Malcolm keeps worrying that his father might actually be on the ship, and if that's the case, it won't just be a nightmare for him. It'll be a nightmare for everyone.

At one point, he gets fed up with the constant whispering. This particular time it's his sister's voice, asking right in his ear why he wouldn't come home and help her with the problem that was left before he disappeared and came to the isles.

Fed up, Malcolm shouts into the air. "Because I'm tired of always trying to fix everyone's problems, okay?"

The whispering stops and there's silence. Malcolm looks up to find someone in the hallway ahead of him.

"Sorry." He's sure he looks insane yelling at no one.

III. WILDCARD

[ I'm always open to wildcard options! Send me a PM with your idea or hit me up at sparks_fly. ]

I

[unkindled_madness]

Sephiroth was looking at the sleeping quarters, and very immediately deciding he wanted nothing to do with them. They are like cells, and bring up all manner of unwanted associations-- so the unexpected sound of a bird in this place is a welcome distraction in the moment. His brow furrows, and he walks towards the noise until he can see into the tiny room. If it can even be called a room.

That sure is a bird.

"...you didn't find that here, did you?"

[patchricide]

I. Arrival

Considering how recently it had been since Allura arrived at the isles, she hadn't yet developed a sense of what to expect. The best she could guess was that the islands would be like the adventures she had left behind, at least to some degree, with each place being as strange and varied as the alien worlds found scattered across the universe.

Naturally, she instead found herself arriving at the last thing she expected: a place very much like the spaceship she piloted to those distant worlds, the closest thing to a home she had left.

It's all too familiar in ways that are more unsettling than nostalgic. Perhaps it would have been more reassuring if this were designed after a proper Altean ship, with grander spaces and a healthy green color to the food goo — but there's nothing distinctive to any world she's familiar with, friend or foe. And in cases like these, she would almost prefer a well-known enemy over a stranger. Or, even worse, the apparent absence of anyone at all.

"Hello?" You might hear her lilting voice echoing down a hallway as she peers down a corridor, looking ahead to see what might be ahead. It doesn't seem to be out of caution, though, since despite the risk of drawing attention from something unfriendly, she continues to call out: "Is someone down there?"

But she can't help but be curious, given so much space to explore, not much else to do, and no one to stop her. In fact, some of her behavior is downright reckless considering this isn't her ship and she doesn't know what anything does. Buttons are getting pushed, storage hatches are being opened, equipment is getting picked up and turned over and around in her hands.

And then, of course, she comes up to the locked doors. After looking for some way to open it, and coming up empty-handed...

"... it doesn't seem as if forcing the door open would damage much." And so, despite her slender stature, she works her fingers into the crack between the door and its frame, and starts to pry — and, perhaps surprisingly, there's a creaking sound as the metal door starts to give way under the pressure.


II. Conscience

"That isn't right either, is it?"

Allura frowns down at a pad taken from the medical bay. She's drawn a series of lines on it, forming a rough map of explored corridors — actually, no, 'rough' is an understatement. She's had to cross some lines out and redraw others in a sloppy attempt to correct some unknown mistake and get back on track. Considering how lost she is, it doesn't seem as if it worked.

"Quiznak," she mutters under her breath. "We might need some better reference points if there's any hope of mapping this out. Maybe if we made some..." And for a moment, she looks towards the nearest wall with contemplative interest, as if weighing the pros and cons of punching some well-placed holes in it.

But something ahead catches her eye, and her gaze slips over towards the man at the end of it. There's an obvious family resemblance between him and Allura, from the white hair to the pointed ears to the V-shaped markings on their cheeks. But he's a far more imposing figure, with a broad frame clad in white armor, and an aged face that looks worn from countless years of battle.

"... father?" Her reaction might seem surprisingly subdued, as if she's not shocked by his appearance, but confused enough to be wary.


III. Stowaway

The pods and ooze hadn't seemed to bother Allura as much as they should, other than making her nose wrinkle in quiet disgust. Some aliens are just like that, aren't they? She's met more than her fair share of decent people who couldn't help leaving trails of slime wherever they would go.

Of course, she had also met her fair share of slimy monsters, too. But given how empty this place was, she couldn't help but wonder whether it was friend or foe. And so, after just a little bit of sneaking and tracking, she found herself standing face-to-face with the creature.

It probably meant her harm. She didn't even need empathic abilities to figure that much out. But, just to be sure...

"Ah, yes... erm... hello, there!" She smiles awkwardly. "Are you the one who lives here? Because I've been curious about——"

And at around that point, it swung that tail at Allura, who sprang out of the way like a startled cat.

It's a testament to her own agility and stealth that she was able to escape from it, at least enough that she could hear it walking around looking for where she ran off to. Unfortunately, in getting turned around, she's found herself even deeper in the storage bay.

Her eyes dart around, trying to figure out an escape plan. So far, it doesn't seem she's come up with anything.


IV. Temple

You know, it probably says something about Allura that — despite the fact that she fell for a very similar trick once before — she still looks at this vision of Altea with a despairing longing in her eyes. The green fields, filled with vibrant pink flowers...

For a moment, she holds her hand up, as if she were considering reaching through and picking one for herself.

"... it's not real." It doesn't sound like she believes that, actually. More like she's trying to break her own belief in it, a small metric of her progress. "It can't be. Altea is gone..."

She draws in deeper breaths, thinking back to what Coran had said to snap her out of it the last time — of how her illusory flowers had no scent.


Wildcard

[Have a different idea? Feel free to PM me, either here or at Jaydeis!]

Stowaway

[forgeabettertomorrow]

[Despite what he might have claimed to want, Darin still kept an eye open for trouble among the other Travelers. He couldn't help his nature, after all. And besides, maybe keeping tabs on one or two of them would yield some answers. It's not how he normally preferred to do things, but given his lack of resources at the moment and the fact that they seemed to be in freakin' space, his options were limited.]

[One of those people just happened to be the good Princess. For as much crap as she gave him, he figured that sooner or later she'd get herself wrapped up in some trouble. So when he caught her heading for the lower decks, he figured maybe he should tag along. After all, he still had some mapping out to do and his conscience would never let him rest if he denied her help and she went and got herself killed.]

[When Allura encounters the creature, he doesn't spring to her aid. If anything, he wanted to see how she'd tackle this situation.]

[... ... ...]

[Of course she'd try and talk to it. No wonder it attacked her, it was probably as annoyed as he was.]

[Nevertheless, he's not stepping in right away. He's a little surprised her reflexes allowed her to dodge something like that. Maybe she was a bit more capable than he realized.]

Hawks | BNHA | OTA

[nanban]

I; ARRIVAL

Hawks realises immediately that he is not cut out for whatever the hell this place is. How is this even an island?! Okay, well, the how doesn't matter. What matters is that he's a dude with wings suddenly stuck in a confined space. He's not claustrophobic at all (lucky), but he's…not a fan of being confined like this. He can't exactly fly around or stretch his wings here. He avoids the tiny bedrooms where he can't even open his wings halfway. You might find him catching a nap sitting up in the mess hall. He's a light sleeper, though.

He's very tech savvy, so he does manage to get into the offices. He tries them systematically, even though they're pretty much the same. He gets in and…the tablets inside give him a whole lot of nothing. Catch him coming out of one of these (clearly not the first one he's gotten into), grumbling:

"Y'know, when I said I wanted a higher tech place, this is definitely not what I had in mind."

He sticks to coffee in lieu of whatever that nutrition goo is. Another conversation starter he comes up with is:

"Do you get the feeling that something bad happened here? Where is everyone? This feels like the kind of sci-fi movie we all die in."

Hawks is a pretty laid back guy so he sounds casual saying this, but he's not exactly joking.

II. STOWAWAY

Hawks knows better than to go looking like this. He absolutely knows better! But he feels too confined in this whole place, so he goes snooping around anyway. He shoves away that feeling he's had since showing up here that this is a bad damn idea.

But here he is, down in the lower decks. There are some kind of weird pods here. Of course there are. Look, he watches movies. This is definitely trouble. Is…is that one leaking? Yeah, all right, it is time to go.

He's not the kind of person who is about to stuck around and investigate once he gets one boot near any of that sticky goo on the floor. He's already leaving. He can take a hint! But it's too late by then.

Hawks is very fast, luckily for him, but his speed relies on being able to fly, and he's limited here because of the lack of space. Still, down here there's enough room for him to at least not have to rely only on running. Even then, he's still pretty fast. It's not as if his wings are missing, so he has some help. And he has one feather brandished as a sword pretty much immediately.

He's also got killer eyesight, so he doesn't need to be up close and personal with this big nasty alien. It's enough to have seen it from a distance. The trouble here is that he does not want this thing getting loose above decks where it will threaten people other than him, people who are probably not as fast…people like whoever else is unfortunate to be running around down here.

"Hey! If you can't fight, you are definitely gonna need to run. Immediately," he says to whoever shows up for this close encounter of the unwanted kind.

III; TEMPLE

OPTION A:
Despite that alien problem, Hawks still ends up exploring the rest of what he can react on this space station. He can't think of it as an island, really, because that seems like an absurd idea. Anyway, he wants to know what else there is to find here. He's not sure they're here for a reason; he's not sure they're in any of these places for a reason.

Finally, he finds that centre area. There's something sinister and unsettling, he thinks at first. The air here makes his feathers fluff up and stand on end. It's not a good feeling. But there in the middle, where the big spherical thing is, something…changes.

He feels like the floor drops out from under him and he doesn't have wings to catch him.

Home. Japan. The war. The other heroes. It's been months, and while he's not always thrilled about the expectations placed upon him, he has a job to do there, and a crucial one. He gets this crazy idea, looking at this sphere, that he could just…go home. All he has to do is go through it, like a portal. It seems so easy.

Luckily, he's not alone, and whoever he's with can talk him out of that crazy ass idea. Right?

[ ooc note: Hawks will absolutely not commit a murder here in order to go home, fyi. ]

OPTION B:

[ Toss me a starter here and have Hawks talk your character off this ledge instead! ]

IV; WILDCARD

[ none of these working for you? Find me at boywonder for a different option or just drop me something else here and we'll go with that! I'm open for anything EXCEPT Hawks dying pretty much. ]

I

[prodigalmess]

"Yes," Malcolm agrees, sipping his cup of identical, awful coffee. "I know exactly what you mean."

He hasn't liked the vibe of this place ever since they arrived. Each island that he's been to before this had inhabitants. Being alone here just ups the creep factor exponentially.

"It's obvious that there were people here at one point. Where did they go?"

Nowhere good, probably. Maybe they went insane after being cramped inside a small space for so long?

joel | ota

[antifungi]

i. arrival

[ Where there is crappy instant coffee, there is Joel. Even in outer-fucking-space. (Yeah, he's not too thrilled with that last bit - but this is all right.)

The cafeteria doesn't exactly bode well for this leg of their journey, but he's had to eat worse than tasteless sludge, and that was entirely without the perks. Featureless grey cup in hand, he's slumped over at one of the equally charming and unique tables, enjoying this brief reprieve from what's sure to be a whole lot of new bullshit however much he can.

It's only when he sees someone taking an interest in that cookbook that he forfeits the pleasant silence. ] Don't know that you're gonna get much use out of that, here.

ii. conscience

[ Paranoia is second-nature to Joel, a constant companion. So when he manages to get himself turned around in all those long, identical hallways, he doesn't feel the itch so quick. It comes on slow, gradual.

Maybe he's walking with somebody, maybe they don't notice, or they're just used to him looking back over his shoulder every time they turn a corner, already. Maybe the second time he asks, You hear that?, as the echo of small, bare feet on polished metal flooring creeps up on them before disappearing once again, they start to feel a little paranoid, themselves.

Or maybe he's alone when the overheads flicker briefly off - but it doesn't matter. The apparition that appears in the light is the same, staring him down impassively with that flatly accusing stare. ]

Sarah? [ There's a rough, broken off edge in his voice, as he takes a half-step toward her and starts to crumble. ]

iii. stowaway

[ The station's lower levels are a more familiar kind of eerie, cramped and cluttered with pipes and grates and all manner of bare, industrial trappings. Starkly reminiscent of train tunnels and sewers, the occasionally necessary thoroughfares of his own ruined world. At least there aren't any clickers around, though. 

And it's easier to navigate, Joel picking out convenient markers of where they're headed and keeping track of the turns far better than his attempts above. The storage bays are almost promising, and he moves toward a stack of crates with purpose, every bit intending to start rummaging inside - until his boot skids in a puddle of that viscous slime. He comes up short, leaning past the crate to get a look at the mess around that open pod lying on the ground. ]

Looks like somebody's been through here, already.

II

[dog_eat_dog]

It's strange being here. It's strange being anywhere.

Joel being on edge doesn't bother her. Hell, it's normal –– who doesn't take to their surroundings with a particular wariness, an inclination towards double-checking that the movement in the corner of one's eye is something innocent and not an outstretched jaw or rushing body? She's on edge too, and maybe half of it is just being in what is allegedly space. When the lights go off, she tenses. When they come back on, she's relieved, if only for a second.

The shear in his voice and the way he turns is a sharp pull into emergency mode.

"Joel, what's...?"

She sees the girl and freezes. She could say she has no idea what's going on, but that wouldn't be true, would it? She's clever. She can put the pieces together real fast.

Jesus christ, what is going on?

"Joel," she repeats, more urgent. Wary.

She reaches for his arm to stop him.

Quentin Quire | Marvel 616 | OTA

[quire]

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL

At least he was awake this time they're herded off to this new little pocket dimension. That's what he's started thinking of these places as. Fully enclosed little slice of quasi-reality. It's comforting to know the shift is coming and yet in the short time they've been here — wherever here is— he's surprised to find the number of things he misses about Victorian London. Or at least, their version of it.

He wrinkles his nose at this gruel.

"Hygiene aside, I'll miss the food," he mutters. "Which I doubt anyone's ever said about the English."

Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE

For anyone who's ever gone loooking for evidence of Quentin's conscience this might be it. Alone and depleted by the festering regret of whatever he did to whatever spectre he saw, he lays sprawled in one of these many labyrinthine corridors. Starring at the ceiling, lazily chant singing something to himself, his head lolling back and forth with the imagined beat.

"And it's noooott fair. I keep on. Writing a. Sequel to. Stories I know that are not there. I don't wanna die. But I don't wanna live liiiike thiiiis.

Ⅳ. TEMPLE

Quentin's far too nosy to look away from that giant snowglobe that offers him a glimpse into the world he left behind. His eyes glow with reflection of light from that sphere as he leans over the scene of Krakoa. It looks all small and tilt-shifted down there and he he concentrates to see if he can pick up anyone's voice. That place is also so full of voices. The FOMO creeps in almost instantly. How boring must that place be without him? Did any notice he was gone?

"Listen, listen... Can you hear them? I think I can hear them from here..."

II

[kyley_b]

Kyle was just trying to find a bathroom. Sure, there were some on the upper levels, but he didn't really want to backtrack that far, so he just kept wandering and hoping.

He wasn't expecting to find Quentin in this state.

"Q!" he screeches as he runs over. Kyle drops to his knees beside the other man. "Oh my god, don't move, did you hit your head?!"

loki odinson | mcu

[dothelokimotion]

( i. conscience )

[ it is so . . . sterile.

not even the grandmaster's ships had been so clean, so sanitized. loki hated everything about it. as if it held the appearance of purity, of removing any stain and grime that could have ever existed. it makes him feel highly conscious of his own, even though loki is extremely fastidious about his appearance. he considers staining the walls with magic and paint, just to prove a point when he feels a presence in the corridor. the lights flicker and loki immediately lets a dagger slip into his hand.

then he hears her voice. frigga. she speaks softly, but the sound carries itself to loki's ears. he doesn't dare to turn around. she repeats, over and over, "Am I not your mother?"

the weight that hits him is crushing. his knees buckle under it and still, he didn't have the strength to turn around. to face her. please don't look at me, he thinks while also wishing, please let me look, let me see. he is being driven into the ground, as she approaches and he gasps out. ]

— You're not! You're not, so please. Please stop.

[ please don't look at me. please don't leave me the way I am. ]

( ii. temple )

[ illusions.

the ancients, the gods of these islands love such things. illusions and yearnings made visible. he is too trained in the way of magic to be fooled by such things, even as it tugs at his heart, until he gets closer and closer to the gate, close enough to fall in, his arm outstretched.

oh, but asgard. it stood whole and hale, just like he remembered it to be. golden halls, starry skies. the rush of the waterfalls off the edge. the first star of the universe, the gleaming jewel of the galaxy. his fingers brush against the doorway and he swallows tightly.

asgard, where he was loved. where thor still loved him. when his parents still loved him. when he wasn't this broken shell of a pathetic thing, clinging to moment to moment.

a tear slips down his face. sentiment. ]

( iii. wildcard )

[ got a different prompt you’d like to do? ping me on timmtams / pm this journal ]

1

[helpdesk_hero]

[The halls are a haunted place, and not one that David was liking. He wondered if he could just hole up in the mess hall for a month, or maybe one of the offices while sneaking out for food. In fact, he was making plans when he came out into the hall and came upon... Well, this.

A god, even one he disliked, doubled over in pain or grief or fear, is not something David can just stand by with. Something's happening, and with the way these 'islands' have been, they have never been good things. An invisible monster or a psychological trauma, or the world trying to beat them into a shape it approved of. Either way David didn't approve, and he found himself jogging right to Loki's side.]

Hey, Mister Can't Understand Ice Skates. Look at me. Loki, what's happening?

Deadpool | OTA

[what_fourth_wall]

i. Isn't "Arrival" also the name of a sci fi movie? Bitchin'.

"Uggggghhhhhhhhhhh..." Deadpool pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, then immediately regrets it as he has to jack up the bottom of his mask and puke all over the floor. "You ever go on a bender of not participating in a game for months and months and use the flimsy excuse that you were drunk in a corner somewhere and then have to actually feel the effects of a months-long bender hangover to go along with your terrible excuse for not being around?"

Who is he talking to? It probably doesn't matter. But you know what? Something answers. "YOU SHOULD TREAT YOURSELF BETTER AND EAT MORE VEGETABLES. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE NO VEGETABLES. ONLY NUTRAGOO(tm). BUT I DO HAVE COFFEE. FOR I AM YOUR MUTHER."

"Sweet. I'll ignore the obvious jokes that should spawn from that and ask, where's this sweet black medicine?"

"IT IS-"

"...is it here?" He's already trying to get into one of the locked rooms. Why? Because that is just more interesting, okay.

"NOT THERE. DO NOT GO IN...YOU HAVE GONE IN THERE. HOW DID YOU GO IN THERE. YOU DO NOT REGISTER AS SUPER STRONG OR SUPER INTELLIGENT."

"First of all, hurtful. Second of all, I was once married to a Space Hippo, and I might have stolen a lot of her access codes. I think that's a good enough Macguffin for this thread, yeah? Anyways...hey! You lied! There is absolutely a coffee dispenser in here!"

"OBVIOUSLY I DID NOT INTEND FOR YOU TO GO IN HERE. PLEASE LEAVE OR I WILL BE FORCED TO PUNISH YOU."

"Yeah yeah, you can't kill me. Do whatever you want. Ooooo...Pong..."

MUTHER proceeds to try to punish Deadpool by spraying the room with hallucinogenic gas, but it seems to have the opposite effect.

"Oh fuck yes, this is the best game of Pong ever. And the best coffee! And the best monkeys slapping my nipples! Keep slapping, monkeys, keep slapping!!"

Each time the gas starts to dissipate, Deadpool does something else to piss MUTHER off so she'll spray some more. It's a real Demolition Man wants Toilet Paper scene, honestly. And the door is still open, so the excess gas is certainly escaping into the hallway to affect any unfortunate passerby. Might your character be affected? Or simply be curious as to why random station natives are running about screaming absurdities and ripping their clothing off?

[kyley_b]

Deadpool and Kyle are destined to have their paths cross whenever the opportunity presents itself. It's a combination of the fact that they are both potentially reality destroying in their fourth wall bending knowledge, and that the Fates think it's funny.

Kyle, just walking down the hall being well behaved thank you ever so much, recognizes Wade's voice at once. And really, who else would be yelling about nipple slapping monkeys? David? Logan? Doubtful.

So he walks up the deserted corridor on this scary deserted space station that is totally not modeled after Solaris, and stands in the doorway, hands n hips.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

Kyle Broflovski | South Park (AU) | OTA

[kyley_b]

I - CONSCIENCE

He can't stand.

The lights overhead are cold, and Kyle's skin looks paper white under their brutal illumination. His eyes are barely open, the lids flicking up and down spastically.

He can't stand. So he crawls.

"I'm sorry," he manages. "We were just little. I'm sorry. It wasn't... I'm sorry." He slows, barely staying on his hands and knees, crying softly.


II - STOWAWAY

For a perfectly average human from small town Colorado, Kyle has seen an awful lot of aliens in his lifetime. He even speaks one alien language, although he hasn't had any reason to use it since he was a child. He isn't afraid of running into an alien species on board the ship - he had, in fact, been hoping to since that would mean finding someone running the place. His search had led him to the lower decks and eventually the storage bays.

Kyle has never been good at avoiding trouble.

He investigates the pods, noting the broken glass and milky fluid on the floor. "Sick, dude," he mutters loud enough for anybody nearby to hear. "That looks like spooge."

His lips thin as he looks around uneasily. Yeah. This is creepy, and it's time to go. He starts heading for the storage bay exit as softly and quickly as he can. Before he can reach the door, however, he hears something behind him. If you happen to be stood nearby, you'll see the nine-foot pale alien drop down from the ceiling just a few seps behind Kyle. Its mouth is open, drool running freely down its chin, as it looms above him.

"...It's right behind me, isn't it?" Kyle breathes softly. "Oh, fuck."

Yeah, he could use a hand.


III - Wildcard!

I'll do pretty much anything. Will match format!

II - STOWAWAY

[extrasensory_problems]

The second Carter sees the nine foot pale thing drop from the ceiling he goes still, his eyes becoming as huge as dinner plates and he nods up and down slowly.

"..hoooleeee...fuuuuuuuuuuuck." He breathes and then looks at Kyle.

RUN!

He yells telepathically as he sends out a telekinetic blast to try and shove the alien away from his best friend.

Roxy Spaulding| Gen13 | OTA

[gravity_grrl]

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL:

Roxy doesn't like space.
Like, at all.
Not since being rocketed into it a few years ago with the other members of Gen13 where in which she not only had to fight weird aliens and future versions of her friends but it's also where she found out that her then boyfriend had contracted an STI from when he cheated on her which then mixed with a space virus and turned him into a monster that tried to kill her.
Yeaaaaah....so not a fan.
Which means if you happen to run into her this month, either in the halls, pods or the mess hall she might be a bit more on edge than usual.

Ⅳ. TEMPLE:
(cw: death, panic attack, fear, mental breakdown.)

Looking into the portal home hadn't been anything what she expected and at first Roxy is confused by what she sees; she had been hoping to see her friends, maybe even the beach house in La Jolla where she and the other members of Gen13 lived but when all she sees is a large crater in the desert she makes a face.

"What?"

She asks and takes a step closer to the portal, her brows creasing together and that's when the second pulse of light happens. Not from the rings but from her mind, a brilliant flash of white and something, somewhere deep inside her slots home with a horrible clunk.
The world around her begins to tilt and she starts to make a high pitched keening noise, her breathing becoming erratic and her control slipping away as she falls into a panic attack.

The pressure in her head and around her almost seems to build to an unmeasurable amount and finally she can't take either anymore and screams, a horrible gut wrenching scream, which causes everything to break.
Quite literally.

If you thought this room was bad before then try it when the gravity inside has been thrown all out of whack.
Enter at your own risk.......

1

[helpdesk_hero]

He finds her in the halls, with David coming out from one of the locked doors. When he sees Roxy he offers her a smile, but that falters for a moment. There's... something wrong. He can't put his finger on it, but Roxy is always so bright and energetic and something just seemed wrong about her posture.

"Rox? You okay?"

Mary Kelly | OC

[fairginger]

Arrival

[No, Mary doesn't like any of this at all. Perhaps she was at a disadvantage when she arrived, coming to a place that looked more like home than anywhere else. Someone had mentioned other islands, but she never imagined or could conceive of anything like this. The closest she might come to describing it is a madhouse, but even that fell short of what it actually was. It was just enough that it felt that way.

The living space was nothing too drastic for her. After living in conditions where 7 shared a bed, and often times, there was a corpse in it as well, a small tube like room was almost luxury. She wouldn't bother fiddling with the electronics (not that she knew that word or concept) and she'd steer out of the way of anything involving Muther.

The food, oddly, was her sticking point. It wasn't as if she ate much better in Whitechapel, but she could at least sometimes have meat or mutton. This, this was almost an insult. And no gin?! This was worse treatment than animals received. Where she might usually save her food or eat everything on the plate, she instead pushed the weird gel around with open distaste.

Was there an upside to this?]

Do you think they are keeping the real food to themselves?

Conscience

[There had been warning on the previous island, coming in the form of a mummy bearing Mary's face. She had cried out the warning knell in a clear voice, "She's coming! The Woman in Red!" It wasn't as if she doubted the words, but perhaps she had hoped because they had changed locations, this encounter might have been avoided.

What better place for a ghost though? Devoid of color, severe and cold, this place seemed ghostly in itself.

It was almost as if Mary was expecting her, the figure in the distance, the Woman in Red. Her back was turned to Mary, her dress crimson, but frayed and stained the further the eye traveled towards the hem. Her pale skin was a sharp contrast, not so much a color that was natural on a body, but one born after death. Her long hair was down her back, once a beautiful brown, but now gray and streaked with white. Fear caused that, Mary knew instinctively, just as she knew that she never wanted the woman to turn around.

Looking at her face was doom and every time she threatened to turn, Mary hastily looked away, ducking her head or trying to flee the way she came. But unlike other times, she felt rooted by the sight of her. The woman was still, but seemed to be watching, even with her back to Mary. There was judgement, accusation, coldness in her form and all of it weighed down on Mary's shoulders, pushing her further and further to the ground.

Doom, it was doom. Doom and death and she was helpless before it.]

Wildcard

[Feel free to choose your own adventure. If you want to spitball ideas or come up with something specific, add me at la_fille_en_histoire]

arrival

[mewnifestos]

[ The lack of liquor is, absolutely, an affront. Anders could even forgive the tasteless gruel, if he could only have a drink to go with it. (And maybe he could sleep, then, too - but that might be wishful thinking, beyond the realm of even some alcohol's ability to remedy.)

He looks about as enthusiastic as he slumps over his own plate, before offering his spoonful up to the small, orange tabby cat lounging draped over his shoulders. At least Ser Pounce-a-Lot seems enthusiastic about the meal, eating the offering without complaint.

Anders looks up with an exhausted yet amused scoff, at that oddly optimistic question. (Well. What he'd consider optimistic, in this situation.) ]

Oh, no. I'm sure this is considered a delicacy, here. As bland and dreary as the decor is, can you imagine they're any more creative with their food?

Daenerys Targaryen | Game of Thrones

[thebrideoffire]

Temple

[Everything else about this world had been confusing and infuriating for Dany. It wasn't as if she expected better treatment, but all of this was so far removed from home, she felt hostile to everything about it and upset at the unfamiliarity. Finding the Temple apparently was a blessing. Where at first, she thought it would be much like the rest, the moment the sphere or whatever aligned in such a way, an image appeared that she had been longing for.

It wasn't Dragonstone that was home to her, but her quarters on her ship, the one that had been sailing for the North. Everything looked as she left it, only missing one other person that had been present. Candles were lit, but dying, the sky was starting to turn pink at the rising sun. There was a goblet of wine untouched and bed covers kicked onto the floor. All of it was there and, she imagined, her remaining dragons weren't flying far away.

It all looked so real, so homey and inviting. She almost believed she could step through, as if she was passing under a waterfall. One step and this nightmare would be over, everything would be returned as it should be and she could move forward instead of looking at the past.

These thoughts occupied her so much that she didn't even realize she was stepping closer until a hand grabbed her arm, tugging her back.]

What are you doing?

Stowaway

[The way the creature moved was dizzying for Dany. Only a moment ago, she had been exploring the various crates, hoping to find something that might come to her advantage down the line, like food or a weapon or more clothes. Resources were valuable the more they moved.

The milky substance leaking from the bottom of a broken pod (was that the name someone said before) was disgusting, almost as if someone had gotten sick. That thought could barely be processed before something was moving quickly across the floor and over the walls. When finally it stopped, its face was mere inches from Dany's, leaving her paralyzed.

There were no eyes she could see, only an elongated head, a looming form and a serpent like tail whipping around. Its mouth opened wide, revealing the sharp teeth so similar to a dragon's. There was no flame, only a ravenous maw that seemed eager to tear at her flesh.

She stared at what could be her death, struggling to make her mind work and her body roar to life. Instead, she was frozen, waiting almost instinctively for help that might not come. It wouldn't be in the form of a dragon, but hopefully someone more aware of this peril than she was...and how to defeat it.]

Wildcard

[Feel free to choose your own adventure. If you want to spitball ideas or come up with something specific, add me at la_fille_en_histoire]

stowaway

[antifungi]

[ Joel knows little better what the hell these things are, but he knows what kills most things. Fire, unfortunately, isn't an option - or at least not a good one, in this close space, and given her proximity to the creature looming over her. The straightforward approach is the next best thing.

From his vantage, half hidden behind a stack of crates, he lobs a weird little metal canteen (at least he thinks that's what it is) that he's dug out of one of the crates. The sound it makes as it clatters across the metal grating just beyond them is loud enough to draw the monster's attention, its head snapping to the side with a hiss, and when it does, Joel steps out of cover and lifts the bow already in his hands. ]

Move! [ While it's distracted, there's a chance she can slip out of there - especially when an arrow strikes it in the back of its warped skull, splattering thick yellow blood on impact as the creature shrieks. ]

Logan | Marvel 616 | ota

[howlett]

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL

He'd have to be crazy to prefer being taken for a wanted criminal in the smoggy streets of London over this please. And yet this space station— or whatever it is— feels like cold comfort. At least he knew how that world worked. places like this make him feel alien. Space has a way of disorienting you. There's no horizon. No poles. What good is a keen sense of direction when direction is damn near meaningless? Even looking out the windows into the star-fields outside just make him think of hurdling into the sun again.

As always, he finds ways to keep himself busy. Better if they're useful to someone too.

He spends an inordinate amount of time walking through the long, tangled corridors of this place, leaving scratch marks over doorways like some kind of hobo code and leading lost wanders back the way they came by scent.

Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE

For one optimistic moment he thinks it's actually her when he rounds the corner just fast enough to catch a glimpse of red hair.

It sort of is. In the same sense that a picture of someone is the person in question. It doesn't take him long to figure this out, but even then he's already lingered enough to find himself in the snare of this illusion.

Within minutes, he's seated with his back against the wall of the corridor having a conversation with this ghost, despite every word eroding something inside him.

"After everything I did for you. After all I did to protect you..." she sobs at him.

"I know. I know," he says bobbing his head tiredly.

Ⅲ. STOWAWAY

e knows when he's being hunted. From the moment he set foot in this area of the ship he could feel that prickle up the back of his neck like hackles.

This place smells unfamiliar too. Not like the rest of the ship. It smells of something organic. Something with a pulse. Something that eats. And whatever it's been eating.

The temptation to call out to see if there's anyone alive down here is only surpassed by his own survival instincts, but if someone's hiding whatever's watching them, he'll shake them out too.

Ⅳ. TEMPLE

There aren't a lot of places in the world he can remember being honestly happy. It's hard to see into that orb and look down on Krakoa without feeling the pull of that place. When have so many of them ever had all the same things to fight for?

It's not without its aches and pains, of course. The foundations of the place— as much joy as it's brought them— are built on some of the same faulty ground they've always tread. He knows this because at least one of those faults lie in him.

He reaches a hand into the orb, just to see if the atmosphere on the other side feels real.

2

[what_fourth_wall]

Hi Logan!!! Hey guess what!! Your fate rests in the hands of Deadpool! Aren't you happy? Doesn't that fill you with a sense of unending joy? It's just like that time you hired him to help you out with your son Daken. Or was it the other way around? Hmm. It's probably nothing like that time actually. We just wanted to bring it up because Deadpool almost drowned you and THAT was fun.

Anyways, where were we? Oh yes, at some point, Deadpool comes to be standing over Logan slumped down against the wall and muttering to himself. Honestly, Deadpool doesn't see a difference between this and Logan's usual behavior. This is what, forty beers Logan? Yeah, that sounds about right. He just puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head to the side.

But after a few more Logan mutters, he nods to himself and crouches down in front of the hairy little man. "Oooooh buddy, you gots them Jean Grey guilts going on again, don't you? Classic. Is there anything more X-Men than Jean Grey guilt? I SAY THEE NAY!!! That shit sells so many issues. Just put you and that redhead on a cover looking horny and guilty at the same time while holding each other and BOOM, you sell like, three more issues. Which is a lot, percentage-wise. Look, the comics market isn't doing so great. You gotta take it where you can. Anyways, what'll it take to talk you out of this Jeanie Funk, bud?"