open post one.

[gall]

prompt one.
you wake up in a squat little house that smells like cinnamon. upon waking, a woman urges you to get up on your feet; there are clothes in your size folded over a chair, if you so choose, and there's a plate of freshly baked bread and warm coffee ready for you. why are you here? do you remember getting here?

the woman tells you the story about the island - it doesn't really answer your questions by much.

once you step outside, you see so much green, and a horizon that seems to never end. you also see others stepping out of similar houses such as the one you just exited. looks like you're not alone.

prompt two.
it's a cool summery evening, and the locals have come together to play music in what seems to be a castle. the turrets and stairs are decked in colorful bunting, and there are sweets being passed around. you're told this is to celebrate your arrival, along with the others who came with you. "tonight is a night of intimacy," they sing. all the children have been ushered home to bed.

some of the locals seem intent in pairing you up with others for a dance. are you game for it?

prompt three.
it hasn't been a day and it's already raining. the rain is coming down in sheets, really quickly, and you have been shuffled around from one house to another before being ushered into the grand ballroom of the castle. they haven't properly prepared your lodgings yet, the locals say, and they're very sorry about it. but now you're damp, and there aren't enough for everyone in the room.

looks like you're gonna have to share!

alternately, wildcard!
make your own prompt and tag around!

---

Comments

misha nel • oc / strayhouse

[realises]

O N E.

( she puts her own clothes back on. of course she does, there's a layer of protection that comes with familiarity, and misha is nothing if not dedicated to her routines. even the act of drawing strings of lacing tighter brings a certain comfort, a certain armour, and by the time she leaves the cottage she feels ready to face the--

....beautiful world she's woken up in.

she'd been....ignoring most of the woman's information, if she's honest. or certainly not taking it in fully, at the very least, so she'd expected something darker, more dangerous. somewhere fitting of a random kidnapping, really. at the very least, misha had been anticipating more fighting. it's a little embarrassing to have to physically wind down the tension seizing her muscles, body clearly geared for some kind of physical altercation -- although maybe that's just the high society talking. nothing worse than something embarrassing. )

Excuse me.

( there are other people emerging from the cottages, and it seems smart enough to reach out to one so she directs her question at the one closest. she's polite, painfully so, and softly spoken in a careful, restrained way. it's all an act, of course, designed to mask just how confused and scared she is, but it's a good one. after all, she's been practicing it her whole life. )

Do you know.....where we are? ( a quick smile, slightly sheepish, and she accompanies it with a vague gesture to their general surroundings. ) Someone was speaking about it before, only I was quite distracted.

T W O.

( it gets better. misha quickly asserts that no one here is trying to kill her, and maybe that's wishful thinking but it's enough to get her to let her guard down - and quite quickly, too. it doesn't take long at all before she is both figuratively and literally letting her hair down. it might seem tame to most, but for someone who has been groomed in certain etiquettes as long as she can remember, even the act of letting loose hair unfurl around her shoulders is quite the little rebellion.

still, old habits die hard and loose hair or not she's hardly a new person now. the celebration is beautiful and she's quite caught up in it all, but misha is hesitant at the encouragement to dance. at last she takes a deep breath though, stepping forward and offering a hand to one of the people she's being heavily ushered towards. this is it, be bold. )

I think they might want us to join in all of this.

( as far as 'may i have this dance?'s go, it's not the worst in the world. not the best, but certainly not the worst. )

T H R E E.

( she's drenched, and freezing, and it feels like every bone in her body is shaking like a leaf, and it's generally just all quite horrible. it was mostly just poor timing that she happened to be crossing a large and uncovered stretch of the island right as the heaven's opened, but by the time misha made it to the grand ballroom she looked ( and felt ) like a drowned rat. it wasn't exactly pleasant.

someone is kind enough to offer a towel and she begins drying out her hair as they explain the housing situation. she's listening, a small frown creasing her brows as she ponders the full implication of these circumstances, but it's much easier to just focus on gently wringing out water and wondering if she'd have been better off leaving it done up in the odd, ornate twisted fashions typical of her home. realistically she'd have ended up just as wet, but it's easier to blame this new-fangled life choice than just....you know. the weather. )

So we must share. ( essentially repeating what she's already been told, sure, but it's important to clarify and avoid misunderstandings!!! ) Are we able to...choose a partner, then? Or will we be assigned a housemate? I'm not so sure I'm ready to draw straws just yet.

( but will she ever be? probably not, but she can hopebelieve at least! )

M I S C.

( wildcard, boi! will take any and all scenarios so gimme something. eating 2 much food, getting drunk and dancing about, peerin' off the edge of the island into the void -- i want it all. super vague unfinished info on misha for the curious, hmu at sharknado or via pm for questions! )

three ishhhh

[floored]

[cole finds her after too long, having spent little time with the locals and even less time with the information he's been given. he compartmentalizes, saves it for later, keeps his priorities straight. what he wouldn't give for a smoke, even in the pouring rain. his coat isn't meant for water and quickly soaks him to his core, though he ignores any offers of towels.

he catches her as she's speaking to one of the locals, and their explanations aren't what he thinks they should be. they're being awfully vague for what they're asking, and he waits patiently behind her until she's done talking with them. he's elated, honestly, to see her. he's spent so much time around her that being separate felt strange. it's hard to adjust to a sudden disappearance of someone when all he's been trained to do up until this point is protect her and know where she is at all times.

he clears his throat to indicate his presence,]

Miss.

[i found you.]

[realises]

( is it normal to recognise someone by the sound of them politely clearing their throat?

misha spins around sharply, a fraction of a moment before he speaks and it already feels like a missing piece has slotted back into place. she had been thinking about his absence, of course she had, but there hadn't been time to worry about it yet. she'd just put that little piece of concern off and off and off again, because if she didn't think about it then she wouldn't worry, and if she didn't worry then she wouldn't have to face the possibility that maybe he hadn't made it here too.

but he had. )

You're very wet.

( her voice is rushed and giddy, all in one breath and entirely worlds away from the poised and proper girl that had been making enquiries around the room. it only lasts as long as it takes her to say those few words, but for a moment she's completely undone with relief.

she hadn't thought about the possibility of him not being here with her, but now that cole is here in front of her the reality of their situation seems to finally set in and it's a wonder that she holds it together. )

Do you want my towel?

( how very kind, misha )

[floored]

[the way he looks at her gives away anything that he feels. they say eyes are the window to the soul, and for cole, that's absolutely the case when it comes to misha. his eyes breathe his sigh of relief, they offer warmth and kindness if only for a moment. all of it breaks away the second he realizes it's happening.

he ought to thank her for pointing out the obvious, but he doesn't, only raises his eyebrows as she offers her own (very wet) towel.]

No, I'll find my own.

[in all the years they've been assigned to each other, he has never fallen ill. he assumes it's because he doesn't have time for it, though anyone can chalk it up to that. maybe his immune system is broken, in a good way.]

Have you been alone long?

[realises]

Good call.

( she drapes the towel around her neck -- it really is very wet, she hadn't quite realised while caught up in all the chatting and questioning and whatnot -- and really she should find a way to get rid of it, or exchange it for a new one at least but she doesn't really want to leave yet.

there's a little ( irrational, maybe ) part of her that's not entirely convinced he'll still be here if she diverts her attention away even for a second. not by choice, cole would never do something like that to her, but by this place, or by him being nothing but a figment of her imagination, or some other improbable answer. )

Not long enough to get into trouble, don't worry. ( she smiles at that, genuinely amused, and little by little she's finally starting to relax in his presence. misha has always been tightly wound, tense and poised, but here it had been to an entirely new degree. ) Yesterday, before the dancing. Did you see that too?

begins the flood

[floored]

[he's so used to serving her that he picks up on every little thing she gives off. instead of waiting for her to do it herself, or even ask someone to direct her, cole takes the towel away from her neck. he hadn't realized she was considering holding onto it, even though it had finished its job ages ago. with the towel in his hand, he merely drapes it over a chair a few feet away. it isn't his problem anymore, nor is it hers.]

Mhm. [a response to both questions, he's asked enough questions around here to make up for a lifetime of talking. for him, at least.] I watched for a bit. DIdn't stick around. Did you?

soren winters ( oc ) | thieveries

[nostopathy]

one

[soren doesn't quite know how to cope with what's being doled out to him. the woman's voice is more like a ringing in his ears, something he follows along to as he pulls on his new clothes. he doesn't quite know how to respond just yet, either that or he hasn't found his voice. instead, he settles in with the bread and coffee and refuses to leave.

it takes a lot of gentle urging and another cup of coffee to push soren out of the house. he stands awkwardly outside, both hands holding onto the mug of coffee. he squints into the scenery, overwhelmed by the sun and lush, green hills. he sees others stepping outside, too, and some have already walked toward the town. anyone else would take the hint and follow, but soren decides to sit on the edge of the house and watch. he watches, and that seems to be the only thing that he does.

it may taken even more urging to get him to move his butt any further. he's a hermit at heart, and this change has him rather frozen in place.]

two

[so he's finally made it to the castle. maybe someone dragged him along, maybe he snuck in quietly by himself.

he has no idea what he's doing, and while his friendly face shows a smile once in a while, it's laced with discomfort and the vibe of "when can i leave". he stays a wallflower and won't budge unless heavily urged forward by someone who doesn't take no for an answer. as the night goes on, however, soren manages to find a drink or two, and he becomes a little more outgoing. a little is a lot for soren, though, so for him to make conversation with anyone is a huge milestone.

he sidles up to anyone who happens to be nearby, holding a glass of wine(?) in his hands.]

Hey, um, do you know what they're talking about? Do you think we have to dance?

[expect a lot of weird jokes from whatever conversation he makes.]

wildcard

( or make up your own adventure! here is some unfinished info, feel free to pm me or @ me over at turnt if you have any questions or wanna hash something out! )

[awol]

[ there's a relief in seeing the familiar outline standing just outside of one of the many houses there, looking about as awkward as soren has ever looked outside of four walls. freyj knows just how to move his ass. and it's by walking up beside him and nudging him lightly from behind. ]

Beep beep.

[ monotone, soft, as they come up behind him and push him out of the way with a hip. freyj has a cup of coffee in one hand, the end of their long braid in another, still being worked on. they present the cup forward, a slight fondness in the upward tick of their smile. ]

Hold this for me.

[nostopathy]

[there are very few people that touch him out of the blue, but he still tenses up when freyj nudges him. normally, he wouldn't, but being here has given him some heebie jeebies. he flashes a quick smile when he realizes who it is, though, hand automatically taking the cup from them.]

Hey, Freyj. Did you just get here, too?

[they're definitely not in kansas, or anywhere. he'd make a joke about it, but he's too blindsided by everything else to think of a good one.]

jim holden | the expanse

[dealign]

ONE.

( holden has a lot of questions and concerns, but while the woman who tells him about the island reminds him of one of his mothers, she doesn't really answer any of the questions or alleviate any of his concerns.

where's his crew? what's happening and how is he here? none of it makes sense and he was in the middle of something back home. he was in the middle of — possibly going out of his mind, so who's to say he isn't really still on the roci? maybe he's snapped. maybe seeing miller was just the first sign.

at least there's coffee in this hallucination, if that's what it is. he takes his cup outside with him, focused more on inhaling the scent of it than anything else, but when he looks up, his eyebrows rise. he hasn't seen his much green in a long time. not since — ) Montana. This reminds me of Montana.

TWO.

( he's still pretty sure this place is a hallucination. he doesn't know what's caused it or how to get himself out of it, so he'll just have to trust that alex and amos figure something out back on the roci. at least miller hasn't shown up yet here. that's probably a good thing, right? he's hallucinating plenty of people, but none of them are a dead guy.

what a comfort.

when someone starts talking of intimacy and ushers holden toward someone else — another figment of his imagination? — he lifts his hands. ) I'm really not much of a dancer.

THREE.

( he doesn't remember the last time he's felt rain. not a shower, not wetness, but genuine rain. he'd forgotten the noise it makes. it's almost comforting. it would be, if it wasn't so goddamn wet.

by the time he makes it to the ballroom, he's soaked through completely and there aren't any towels left. )

WILDCARD.

( hmu for anything here or @ abiosis. sad talk of missing his crew over a drink? you got it. spilling the beans that he thinks this is all a hallucination? buy him a drink first, but sure. holden making sex faces because of coffee? you bet. )

woildcardddd

[brandishes]

( thankfully there's no one here that knows beth from a bar of soap, therefore meaning there was no one to call her out on the fact that her first stop the moment things seemed hard was to a bar.

or at least the closest approximation to one. it's all a bit weird and old-timey and not at the same time here, but she isn't thinking about that. she's just thinking about the fact that there's still water dripping from her pony tail, enough that it sends a slight shiver down her spine, and more importantly she's thinking of the drink that she just ordered. a beer, specifically, because it seemed easiest.

she's not the only one there, obviously because it's a bar-like-thing, and she's not normally a stranger chatter but there's a guy that looks just about as bedraggled as her so why the hell not. her pint arrives, she grabs the glass and moves over a few stools until she pulls one up next to the guy. looks kind of morose. she wonders vaguely if she's that obvious, too. )

Rain, huh? ( that is....one hell of a hello. never let it be said that beth doesn't know how to make friends. ) Want a drink?

heck yeah

[dealign]

( if he looks morose, it's because he feels morose. this place is so far behind everything holden knows in terms of technology that he can't imagine why his brain would conjure something like this, but he can't come up with a better explanation than hallucination, either, especially seeing how he was already hallucinating. or something. not in any way that showed up on the brain scans.

he wants to be on the roci. he wants to be able to look at amos and alex and —he wouldn't ask them for comfort, of course, because he's their captain, but it would still be better than this.

at least this place has coffee; at least this place has a bar. his mind got that much right.

he glances at her when she arrives, offering a half-smile. he's morose, but not against talking to people. even if they're probably all figments of his own imagination. ) Rain. ( he shrugs a little, his shirt still clinging to his shoulders and chest. the bar isn't really warm, so he's not loving the sensation. )

I'd love a drink right about now.