Introduction Log || Have a Merry Starlight Celebration

[eternitymods]

Who: All characters (New Arrivals, Previous Arrivals, and Native OCs) When: December 5th Where: The Dream Width (Airship), the Curti Center, and the Housing District What: It is happening for the fifth time now. More outworlders have arrived in the Dream Width and must be rescued and brought back to their new homes on Vaikuntha Warnings/Notes: Only new players can put up a toplevel. Previous arrivals and established native characters can respond to new characters' toplevel posts. They will get 25 EXP for replying to top levels. MEMORY [ You've been here before...? No, wait, why would you think that? You're here in the moment, everything is as it should be...(?) The memory you are trapped in has completely enthralled you. You stop questioning and accept, you relive and repeat. Luckily, you are not alone. Others have arrived to help you. The travelers in the airships will enter the nebula formed by your memories and attempt to wake you up and bring you back to the present. The dreamer's mind will shape how these newcomers are perceived and how the NPCs in the memory respond to them. For more details on the mechanics, please refer to this post] ARRIVAL [ You wake from your dreams, from your memories, on a narrow cot. There are fleeting impressions- recycled air, humming machinery, movement, strangers waking around you. The room you wake in is lined with cots, with barely enough space between them to walk to the door, though not all of them show signs of having been occupied. The makeshift infirmary seems like it was prepared to hold many more than are here. Stepping out, there is a lobby space that bears the signs of having once held some furniture, now cleared away to make space. Your footsteps echo in the emptiness. As the automatic door slides shut on the infirmary, a light flashes on the far side of the room. A flickering holographic projection of a man’s face and gloved hand appears projected in the space above the arrivals’ heads. He backs up so his upper body is in frame for the recording. An arm, covered in the same orange flightsuit sleeve, hands him a tablet. The man begins to read. A written version of the message scrolls along the bottom of the projection as he speaks. ] ’Welcome travelers’… That’s way too formal. Hey everyone. Hi! [ The second man leans into the frame to add his greeting. ] Don’t panic. You were floating out there, but we pulled you in and rescued you. Yeah, we’re heroic AND handsome. And also the only ones crazy enough to come out here to get you. [ A woman’s voice calls from out of frame. ] Can you two be serious for ONE moment and stick to your scripts? [ The two men give each other a conspiratorial eyeroll. This does not appear to be their first take. ] Anyways, no need to panic. Seriously, don’t do anything reckless. We got our fill of that with Skywalker. [A huff is heard offscreen, and the men finally spare the tablet another glance.] ‘Your pilots will be navigating treacherous environs as this message plays…’ Claire, seriously? Nobody talks like this! [ The tablet is tossed to the side and lands with a thunk offscreen. ] We’re gonna wing it. Look, everyone, we’re workin’ hard to get you planetside safely, and it’s gonna take some tricky flying to do it. So the door to the cockpit is locked so we can focus on not getting us all killed. Don’t try to open it, unless you want to be stardust. We promise you’ll get answers about what’s going on once we land. But for now, please trust us. Right now, we’re your only hope. [ The second man leans forward, close to the recording device, and presses a button. The projection freezes for a moment, and then the message starts on the next recorded message. ] CURTI CENTER [ Finally after hours of flight, you arrive at the Curti Center. The place is covered with snow, it appears to be winter here! The other NPCs await you having been notified of your retrieval in the Dream Width. Jessie gives a long and professional welcome speech, explaining what the situation is: you were lost in a space called the Dream Width. You are now on a planet called Vaikuntha: for ages, the people of this world have used Airships to rescue people lost in the Dream Width, with one person being found roughly every ten years. No one knows why this happens, but this has been a mutually beneficial exchange, with the people from Vaikuntha rescuing people lost in the Dream Width and the rescued ones sharing their wisdom with the people of Vaikuntha. Ten years ago, something unusual happened: two people were found at once, Biggs and Wedge. But that was nothing compared to what happened eight months ago... And six, four, two months ago. And now, here you are. No one knows why such a large number of people has arriving lately, but the Curti Center is a place dedicated to piercing the Dream Width's secrets. Jessie also introduces the other ones: Claire, the woman sighing and writing in her schedule book upon being pointed out as the bookkeeper, Kupoto and Mogaruru, their Mognet representatives and finally the Native OCs: those brave and kind souls who have accepted to help you all on a daily basis. She also mentions Cid, the director who is busy in his office. After Jessie finishes , the employees, including the Native OCs, provide a tour of the facility and help the newcomers navigate their future lives. Now is the time to ask questions and look over pamphlets regarding locations, Jobs, life in Vaikuntha... ] [ If you want to contact an NPC, you can do so on the NPC Contact Page. ] A BALL OF FLUFF NAMED MOOGLE [ It has been a long day, perhaps now you would like to find your way to a place to sleep? Or perhaps you'd like to get some answers, but you can't be bothered to go seek people out? And lo, just as despair begins settles in, a Moogle slams into you! Or stops by your side if their aim is decent... It's the Moogle Jessie mentioned in her speech earlier! And they'll be informing you that now, they will stick to you like your shadow and help you in anyway they can! They're also giving you your iMog Slate- Now you can get onto Mognet! Isn't it great? ] A QUICK CHECK-UP [ Whether it's your Moogle, Native OCs or NPCs, all will urge you to stop by the hospital wing for a basic check-up. You may disagree, but listen. You've just been thrown into a space between worlds, rescued, and brought to another world. For your own sake, that's a good idea. Should you give in and go (or should you be dragged by your Moogle or a Native OC), you will find yourself in the cold and white space very reminiscent of an hospital. For characters with specific medical conditions necessitating help, this is where they will receive it if asked. The doctors and nurses are all White Mages or Chemists, with various levels into their Job as well as medical knowledge. Don't mind the confused looks if you look like nothing they've ever seen before... It's hard for a doctor to be unable to give a proper diagnosis to a patient! For everyone else though, they'll be let go with smiles and be given a candy as they leave. No one likes medical check-ups, but it's a very quick and basic one: testing reflexes, taking your temperature and the likes. On the bright side, while you're grumpily sitting on a bed with a thermometer on your forehead or in your mouth, it might be a good time to socialize with your fellow new arrival who's having lights flashed into their eyes by a doctor. Misery loves company, after all. ] STARLIGHT SIGHTS [ There's plenty of rooms to wander about in, with several points of interest apart from the offices. Most noticeably, the entire place is decorated with Christmas decorations and there are even employees dressed as Santa Claus! Of course, it's not called Christmas but the Starlight Celebration in this world. And everyone appears to be in the holiday spirit, ready for the great day on the 25th! The Airship Hangar is where the airships are kept and the first room you entered. Workers keep guard to prevent the outworlders from getting too close to the vehicles. Airships are expensive and they don't want you messing with them, after all. Venturing into the Research Section, you can walk through public exhibitions on astronomy, airship design, and asterisk studies. A good place to get used to the basic science of this world. The laboratories lie behind a thick locked door with a sign reading "EMPLOYEES ONLY". No going there, for now anyway. Not too far from there are the Employee Quarters - work stations, apartments, and lounge areas. The latter are available to the public, whereas the rest is locked to Native OCs. But if you get them to be friends with you, perhaps they'll let you visit? Also open to all is a Cafeteria - a standard food court with stalls serving all types of Vaikunthan cuisine. The Chef is a very jovial and absent-minded Hypello. Beware of long lines and crowded tables. Should you prefer open spaces, then the gardens are for you! There are different sections in the gardens around the center, but they all look the same at this time of the year, snow covering everything. Oh, and what's that? It's snowing right now! Or perhaps, you want to wait till the sunset. Dusk on a new world, but a beginning of a new life... The sea shines bright in the orange light. A good moment for quiet contemplation. ] HOUSING [The housing accommodations are the best the Curti staff could provide, given that they are still also sheltering most of the previous arrivals from the Dream Width. The keys have been entrusted to the moogles who will be guiding the new arrivals. The new arrivals can stop by the Curti Center storage room to collect some essential supplies that have been donated by charity organizations from around the world (there are boxes of toothbrushes and whitening toothpaste sent from the Zora, hair brushes from the Elezen, quick-drying towels from the Hypello, among the various donations of clothes, toiletries, and blankets), before heading to their new homes. The people of Vaikuntha have done their best to provide for their new neighbors and help them get on their feet. Still, things will be a little cramped until the off-worlders can find employment and move into better housing if they so wish. The staff hopes they can get along with one another until alternate arrangements can be made. You can survive living with roommates for a few months, right?] THE JOB FOR YOU [An important part of life on Vaikuntha is the Job (or Jobs) you choose to take. No, not the way you earn your living. Your Job Class. Most Natives only choose one or two, but you'll have an opportunity to take on more Job Asterisks after you master your first Jobs. The Curti Center's resident Job Master, Ganeshan, is more than happy to arrange transportation to the various Guilds so that you can claim your first Asterisks. ]

Comments

[OU] Plague Knight | Shovel Knight | Orolin

[plagueofshadows]

Memory

It had all gone so well. Perfectly, even. More perfectly than either he, or Mona, could have ever imagined. Here, in the empty potionarium, while the populace of the Village and the minions that had worked below it all celebrated above, Plague Knight had everything he could have ever wanted in his arms. Back and forth, through the shadowy mist, they dance across the room, in a whirling waltz that never seems to end. That he never wants to end.

That never will end.

Trapped in the best moment of his life, reliving that lovely dance again... And again... And again.


Starlight Sights

There is so much to explore- Plague Knight had been, for the most part, attentive during his introduction to this new world, and now, while housing was being handled, here he was left with (mostly) free roam of the place. So where was an alchemist like him to go? The research facilities? The cafeteria? It had been some time since his awakening in the Dream Width after all, and he'd worked up quite an appetite!

No. It is in the garden, out in the cold, where Plague Knight may be found. Faced with the signs of holiday spirit all around, and the general seasonal cheer, the alchemist needs an escape. Attended to by an almost aggressively fancy moogle with a faint air of concern, not even the beaked mask he wears can conceal that something has afflicted Plague Knight with a deep feeling of melancholy.

This is all so much to take in, and it's finally dawning on him- Will he ever see Mona again?


Housing

"Rather big of them to offer us all housing like this, hee hee! Which one had you said it was again, Mogstantine?"

"B14, sir. It is this way, if sir would desire a guide."

"Ehee! Very good, lead the way!"

B14... A rather spacious housing unit, from the look of things, how curious. It looks big enough to house four, and yet, hmm... These papers say there's only one other person living there. Klonoa? Hmm.

Either way, soon enough Plague Knight is knocking on the door of what is now his home, curious to see if his new roomate is currently home, while looking around the villa at the other homes. It feels strange to be living someplace out in the open, above ground.


The Job For You

There was only one choice, of course, the very first thing he did the moment he had the freedom to do so- the chemist Asterisk. He lacks his potions, his bombs, and the arcana he'd collected, but that's fine. If he has to start from square one, he's going to do it right.

But less obvious was his second choice- though he'd not hesitated in the slightest, in much the same way. The Dancer Asterisk would be kept close to his heart, but for now...

Well, for now he's just enjoying the newfound ability to pick up and store essentially as much as he wants. Even just walking down the streets of Arito and picking up trash- like he's doing right now- has him practically giggling gleefully beneath his mask, spirit it all away in the folds of his robe, disposing of litter has never been so fun! Or effective. Oh, think of all the bombs he could carry like this! The possibilities!

He probably looks like a madman.

Sam Vimes || Discworld

[old_stoneface]

MEMORY

Outside, the world was dark, and complicated. The city of Ankh-Morpork, full of unique and interesting and, yes, occasionally disquieting sights, sounds, and smells, goes on about its business as the sun sets and day turns, slowly, into night. But here, in this room, it is six o' clock. And at six o' clock, the world stops for Sam Vimes. Both of them.

It was a small room, filled with the sort of quiet, comfortable silence that only comes from a nursery around bedtime. The walls were painted in pinks and blues, and small fluffy toys were scattered about the floor. On the nightstand, a clock ticked gently, a porcelain sheep counting the time away as it bounced gently back and forth. Beneath the crib, a toothless, tiny, and ancient dragon dozes quietly. And in the large armchair, Sam Vimes read to his son.

"Where's my cow?
Is that my cow?
It goes 'Neigh!'
It is a horse! That's not my cow!"

To the enthralled toddler, this was the height of entertainment. The story eventually reaches its conclusion, and the cow is found, though a certain amount of suspense is lent by the addition of many animals who are illustrated in ways that might, if looked at from a very specific angle, may appear, briefly, cow-like.

And then it's six o'clock again. It's always six o'clock, here, in this nursery. The world has stopped for Sam Vimes, one perfect moment in time stretching out forever.

ARRIVAL

The first thing Sam Vimes noticed upon waking was that he wasn't in bed. He was in a bed, but he wasn't in his bed. He didn't sink into the pillows like he ought to, and the quiet snores that Sybil swore she didn't make were absent. Gone as well was the sound outside his window of a city changing over from the comparative quiet of night to the bustle of the working day.

Now how the hell'd they manage that? He was a light sleeper, prided himself on it- he'd been moved, somehow. Couldn't be Ankh-Morpork, didn't stink properly. There's a furtive moment where one eye drifts open, just long enough for him to get an idea of the layout of the area. Loads of people in cots, asleep, floor made of- metal? What daft sort of architect makes a building out of steel? He doesn't like the way it vibrates beneath his feet, either. Well, only one thing for it.

When he's sure there's nobody looking, he rolls off the cot and back underneath, and tries to convince himself that wasn't him grunting in pain just now. No brass knuckles, no truncheon in easy reach, they even took the cosh he kept in his pocket just in case. Bare knuckles it is, then. He really was getting too old for this sort of thing.

The unlucky bugger to pass by his cot next is the one he rolls out for, quietly as he can (which, it turns out, is pretty damn quiet). One arm goes around the throat, the other grabs a wrist and tugs behind the back, and one foot to the back of the knee- "Right. Sorry about the sudden discomfort, but I am not what you'd call glad about mucking about in a tent!"

A BALL OF FLUFF NAMED MOOGLE

On the whole, Vimes had... not quite adjusted, to the idea of Vaikuntha, but he'd at least got over his initial shock. Some things had been explained and, oh yes, they had no idea how he'd got here, or how he'd get back. This was familiar territory at least, and Vimes had to spend a moment wondering how on the Disc his life had come to this, that he considered this familiar. What wasn't familiar, was that nobody here knew what Ankh-Morpork was. Nobody'd ever heard of the disc, for that matter. They didn't even have a turtle. And he'd got an awful lot of funny looks when he'd asked how people were supposed to live on the bottom of a great big ball of rock.

So, he had some things to think about. Something about the end of the world, teatime of the gods and all that, a bloody great dragon about to burn up the place- and a deep, burning need to get home. It really was too familiar.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a gentle tugging at his trouser leg. He looked down, and received another shock. The offender was a moogle- well, moogle-shaped. There was one of those fluffy dangly things, and yes, if you looked at the fur color and took a long swig of something so alcoholic you couldn't serve it in a metal tankard you could just believe it was a shade of white, and there were wings, too, though one was noticeably bigger than the other. There was the odour, too. It wasn't unpleasant, strictly speaking, merely wholly unique. Vimes felt, all at once, a pang of recognition, and a desire to be home. "'ere, Mister! You Vimes?"

It was true that every organization had to have its backbone, and therefore it stood to reason that there also would have to be some person who equated to the bits usually destined for dog food. "Oh, no. Don't tell me," Vimes, who'd been introduced to a few moogles thus far and thought he'd developed an understanding of their naming conventions, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your name's Moggs, or Moggy, or something like that, right?"

The little creature narrows its eyes, looking instantly as though it'd like to shuffle away. "Could be, could be, 'ow'd you know that, Mister Vimes? Er, kupo."

Sam Vimes sighed. It really was shaping up to be a very long day.

WILD CARD

Give him a prod. What's the worst that could happen?

S'reee | Young Wizards [Return]

[singerofspells]

A. Memory of the Abyss
You find yourself floating warm, inky-black water. The area around you is defined by cool light, with the abyssal plain not far enough below that you can't see it. Despite the water, you can breathe even if you are used to breathing air. Ahead, volcanic vents send billowing black mineral-ladded water to the surface as strange creatures cluster around the source of heat and nutrients. Ropy solidified lava forms mounds and pillows, looking almost serpentine.Maybe too serpentine to be natural. At the edge of sight and sound rises an underwater mountain.

Around you are gathered a dozen representatives of Earth's oceans, from a blue whale and the largest shark you have ever seen, to a dolphin that almost looks human sized (and tiny compared to the blue).

A humpback whale glides slightly forward. She is speaking in whale-song, but you clearly understand her words. "If you're all prepared, I suggest we start right now."

[OOC: Given there are two shape-shifted humans in the memory, feel free to pick an aquatic creature rather than floating as a human a mile deep.]

B. You've Got Mail!
S'reee is hovering near a table in the cafeteria, telekineticially manipulating her iMog Slate -- the Illusionist job is quite nice for living in a world designed by people with a different body plan than yours, if you don't mind the energy output -- and trying to catch up on months of events. "Bright Powers, of all the times to get called away." The slate is using a (stilted) text to speech interface -- S'reee can read, but her hearing is better than her vision.

Minimus Ambus | Transformers

[legalcy]

Arrival

[He's exposed. He was safe inside the Magnus Armor, inside the outer armor, and the Dream Width forcibly yanked him out, shrank him down so even humans stood above him, and deposited him in an unknown universe. Was this caused by the rift that opened up? An illusions created by Mederi?

Whatever the answer, Minimus stands in the cleanest corner of the ship, composing himself in time to converse with the other passengers and hopefully find answers. It's just so difficult to focus on his thoughts with the looping messages.

He scowls at the projector. There's no need to have multiple recordings conveying the same information. What sort of unprofessional band of explorers are these people?]

Curti Center

[There are 245 questions Minimus has listed that must be answered, but with how busy Director Cid must be, he must find the answers to some of them on his own. It wouldn't do to bother the chief of staff with inane questions. Thankfully, the Center has provided a room's worth of pamphlets. How to find housing, how to manage currency, how to report unlawful behavior, the forms required to obtain employment (a spark goes off in his brain module when he sees that even an outworlder like himself can join the lawforce), an understanding of the Job System...

Minimus takes a copy of every pamphlet, whether it will be relevant to his personal life or not. It could be important in the future! Yet once he sits down and reads through each booklet for each Job class, he grows frustrated.]

They use a different font for every publication! How can they overlook internal consistency?!

Medibay

[No one in this room has seen a Cybertronian, that much is obvious. Doctors and mechanics crowd around his form, which impedes the necessary and frankly critical preliminary medical survey. At one point, his appointed nurse shoos the crowd away, telling them they can oggle him later.

"Oggle". What an uncomfortable word.

The nurse finally pulls out a clipboard.]

Name?

[...............The green robot looks distressed.]

Moogles and Starlight

Kupo?

[The sweet little thing holds up his employee card, and Minimus' facial insignia twitches at the name.]

Mogsuna, then? Thank you for your assistance, but this isn't necessary. [He holds up a hand.] I can manage on my own. Cybertronians are used to this sort of technology.

[Mogsuna types something on his iMog Slate and sends the message to the one Minimus holds, which he promptly regards.] Ah. I see. Then I mustn't deny your right to a living. [...He's going to have a Moogle follow him every step of the way, is he?] Let us begin with a tour of the Curti Center.

[Mogsuna nods, kupo-ing happily and pressing his paws against his cheeks before leading him around the building, but mostly sticking to the areas with his favorite Starlight decorations. For all that is wrong with the situation, Minimus can find some simple pleasure in the string of lights and paper-based artworks. They're an odd pair, a quiet happy Moogle and a short Cybertronian marching through the hallways as if on inspection duty.]

[OU] Tyzias Entykk | Hiveswap Friendsim | Doom

[tiredcharmer]

Memory
It's a pretty innocuous scene; maybe a familiar one for some. Four teenager sit at a crowded library table, with what looks to be a mess of papers and books relating to a legal studies project covering the entire thing. It would be right at home at any high school library in Vaikuntha or anywhere else, except for the fact that the teenagers in question all have grey skin and candy-corn horns.

The one with a probably-fake knockoff katana on his back is trying to discreetly read a manga inside his textbook, which seems to be fooling absolutely no-one at the table. Another teen, hair done up in some kind horrific hybrid of a man-bun and mullet, scowls at the apparent weeb of the group, and after a short protest the katana-carrying alien digs into his pocket for some cash and puts it in the hand of the one with the man-bun.

A third teen wearing a horribly garish pink coat runs a comb through the hair of the fourth, final, and real student: a young woman with messy hair, a rumpled coat, and the look of somebody with the raw willpower to stay up for four nights in a row without an ounce of caffeine and is probably in the middle of one of those study binges now. She mutters something under her breath as she scribbles some notes down while simultaneously typing on a laptop computer (it seems she's the only one actually working at this point) making an expression that could be construed as a smile. Whatever she said makes her apparent girlfriend blush furiously and giggle, momentarily pausing in her futile attempt to tame the messy alien's wild hair.

It's not exactly a happy scene, but it's familiar, close, and comfortable. Everybody argues in that familiar way friends do, and no matter how much time they waste bickering the clock won't budge past 1 AM. At least their neglected project isn't going to be due anytime soon.

Arrival
When Tyzias finally awakens, she's quiet for a long time, just sitting on the side of her cot looking out into the Dream Width. Neither pensive nor contemplative are good descriptors for her mood right now, although she could be mistaken for that quite easily. It looks like... well, like Tyzias is in enough despair to considering hurling herself off the airship and back to her happy memories. Maybe. It's hard to tell, really, she's quite a difficult one to read.

Tyzias' hand automatically goes for something around her throat, and she sighs when she remembers that it isn't there, flopping back onto her cot and groaning up at the ceiling. Well, at least she wasn't dead, for what that was worth. (It was worth very little.) She looks at the nearest passing person and asks, "Hey, any idea wwwwhen wwwwe're touching dowwwwn? I don't think I can stand this deathtrap mmmmuch longer."

A Ball of Fluff Named Moogle
All that Tyzias wanted for Twelfth Perigee's Eve, or, er, "Starlight," was some fucking peace and quiet. Her constant low-grade fatigue headache had exploded into a stress headache from everything that was happening, she had the misfortune of waking up as soon as she was brought in so she was still running on precisely zero hours of sleep--which wasn't normally a problem, mind you, but she'd just fucking died and had already been awake for four days before that.

But that was apparently too much to ask, because as soon as soon as Tyzias had found a quiet corner to nurse her mug of water and to contemplate her poor life/death decisions, some weird fluffy thing smacked right into her.

"HEY, ASSHOLE, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING! I SWEAR, I KEEP ON RUNNING INTO BUMBLEFUCKS LIKE YOU EVERY TWO FUCKING SECONDS IN THIS PLACE, CAN'T A GUY GET TO WORK IN PEACE?" the moogle screeched, dressed in some sort of black sweater with a...

A...

What the fuck.

While to the casual eye, it may appear that Tyzias is taking the moogle's rant lying down, she's actually very intently studying the Cancer symbol on his shirt, thinkpan struggling to process why the hell a random creature from another world is another follower.

Starlight Sights
Mogkat had been surprisingly understanding when Tyzias told him--mumbled, really--that she really needed some time alone. So he left to aggressively prepare her new room for her. Apparently he was actually a big softie, at least if you explained some of your "FUCKING DAMAGE." Whodathunk?

It had taken an incredible act of willpower to step out into the sun, even with its light dimming as it crested towards the horizon. It was... a nice feeling, actually. To feel the sun on her skin in a way that didn't mean she wasn't about to die from exposure. Tyzias had wandered through the grounds, aimless, before eventually arriving at the beach just as the sun was setting.

Beautiful. Absolutely fucking beautiful. Just like... just like...

Their first date.

Tyzias huddles up, hugging her knees. Some kind of translucent teal fluid runs down her cheeks.

[OU] Megatron | Transformers IDW | Samu

[peace_through_empathy]

Memory
He's here. He will always be here; the memory has burned itself into him, the weight of it on his Spark is something he can never be rid of. Can never allow himself to be rid of.

Megatron stands at the base of a statue, under clear blue skies. "Statue" might be the wrong word, though; while it stands on a stone plinth, the figure the statue represents has a distinctly ethereal quality to it, and on closer inspection is slightly transparent. It also flickers occasionally, it's form waving slightly, revealing it to be a hologram.

A hologram of him. Of who he was; a young, idealistic miner, toiling away beneath Nova Point. The plinth is marked only by his name and the city he called home after first coming online. "MEGATRON OF TARN."

But he's not looking at the statue. He's looking out over the fields surrounding it. From the base of the statue, stretching out from it, are pale blue flowers that glow faintly with some residual energy. He stares out over them in silent witness to his own bloody history. Each flower, a life. A life of one of his own. A life that ended, ultimately, because of him. Autobot, Decepticon, unaligned. He is responsible for each and every death these flowers represent.

They stretch from the statue to the horizon in every direction. There is nothing else. There can never be anything else.

A Ball of Fluff Named Moogle

Megatron has found an out of the way corner of the mess hall to take a read through his pamphlets. They've been meticulously ordered. A pile to his right of the ones he hasn't yet read, the one in his hand he is currently digesting and taking stock of, and then to his left, the pile of ones he's already made his way through. He appears completely focused on the task at hand, but at the same time, the mess hall is full so he clearly doesn't give the impression he wanted to be alone. Indeed, he's not, for a somewhat older-looking Moogle (the tiny pair of spectacles and cane are something of a clue) is perched atop Megatron's distinctive bucket-shaped helmet, which the Cybertronian appears to not mind. The Moogle appears comfortable, at least.

"I can't fault this Ganeshan's enthusiasm for his work." Megatron says finally, putting down his current pamphlet and then reaching for another. "But he could stand to try and make these a bit more professional-looking. They're a bit all over the place in terms of formatting."

"Young man, have you ever considered trying not to take things so seriously? I never do! You'll live longer that way!"

Megatron glances upwards. "Mogatronus, you do realize I'm over five million years old, yes?"

"Time to start living a little then, don't you think? Hehehehehe!"

A pause. "Hmm." Megatron says noncommittally.

Housing
Well, time to see what his accommodations are going to be like. Energon levels are good so that's not a concern yet, but it will be. At least his miniaturized form seems to be more energy-efficient. Still, a converter or some kind of Energon substitute is going to be a necessity at some point. He'll have to touch base with the medical staff here, it's possible that if they put their heads together they might be able to work on a solution.

"You said my room was...B-10, yes?" He asks Mogatronus, still perched on his helmet.

"Hard of hearing, eh, sonny? Hehehehe! Yes, B-10, that's it. Right there!" He points with his cane at the door. "Go an' introduce yourself to your roommates! Make some friends! I mean, I've only just met you sonny, but I can already tell you're in desperate need of a social life! But don't you worry, that's what ol' Mogatronus is here for! Hehehehehe!"

"I'm not adverse to the idea, but I can't spend all my time engaging in frivolity when there's work to be done. We only have a few months before this...Bahamut creature arrives. I intend to be ready to assist when that time comes."

For the moment however, he decides to knock, rather than just enter and announce himself. It seems to be the best way to make a good impression, at least.

What's the worst that could happen?

Wild Card
For whatever you want, I'm easy-going. Let's make this precious...

[provenworth]

Memory

[Its noisy. Even through the noise-cancelling headphones, its hard to hear over the howling winds of Northern Crater and the sound of the helicopter’s blades chopping to keep them air born. Outside, the sky is grey and overcast, threatening snow. She isn’t dressed for the weather either, not that it mattered. It was an in and out mission. No need for heavy coats and snow shoes.

Across from her is a man dressed in the same suit as her, talking into the small microphone, looking up towards the cockpit. She doesn’t need to look behind her to know who is at the helm, and she has nothing but trust in his skills. There’s more chatter on the radio. They’ve arrived. She and her partner leave the warmth of the helicopter – they’re on a hunt for an elusive item. Patting the door once its shut, it returns to the skies until summoned.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed, but she sees something out of the corner of her eye. Its decayed some, though that process was brought to a halt due to the below-freezing temperatures. Snow crunches beneath her feet as she moves closer, head tilting from one side to another, inspecting the object.]

Tseng! Look at this.

[They found it. Time to leave. She was starting to feel the cold creeping past her fingers into her palms. The work in tandem to put the item into a box, close and seal with tape. Everything was going as planned. Thank Odin. The helicopter was called back for pickup, its signature thump – thump – thump echoing in the crater.

They aren’t alone.

Her heart jumps into her throat for a second at the sight of them. Three men, stark naked despite the cold, all that look like – Gunshots distract her. They’re under attack. She’s moving backward, sending shots downrange at the trio to keep them at bay so they can escape.]

Reno, Hurry! Reno!

[The helicopter is so close now. Another man is standing in the doorway, dressed as identically as her and wearing sunglasses. She’s been grazed by a bullet, a small trickle of warmth oozing down two inches before stopping. The box is passed over and she waves the helicopter away.]

Get – Get out!

[She’s heading back into the fray, to the man with raven black hair spread across the snow, blood on his forehead and clutching his arm. She won’t leave him behind.]

Tseng!

Starlight Sights

[It's no surprise that Elena is on the move. She doesn’t feel comfortable stopping anywhere, considering she had no idea where she was, what the threats were, or what sort of unexpected surprises would rear its ugly head. While she wanted to further inspect the airships – which were a far cry from the one Rufus had commissioned – she had been shoed away. And, grumpily, she left without much complaint.

At least she was able to fulfill her curiosity at the Research Section. The information available was vast and there were a plethora of subjects that she could find herself getting engrossed in. In particular, Elena is focused on the Gourmand asterisk exhibition.]

Wildcard

Do you dare to approach an on-edge Turk? Do ya?

[fivestar]

( moogle )
[It has certainly been a day. This is the second time Arthur's ended up in a place completely foreign and unfamiliar to him in a short period of time, but he's no more shocked or disoriented than he was the first time. (Though it is strange, he can't deny that. To exist here as a Servant and yet have no Master... That's probably the strangest thing of all.) The memories from earlier still play through his head, and they leave him with warm feelings, but melancholy ones, too.

But perhaps due to all that nostalgia, when his moogle guide literally crashes into him, he can't help but think of a certain someone. The colors of its fur, its softness, the way it playfully bops him on the head... Yes, it definitely reminds him of her.

"What's your name?" he had asked. The moogle replied, saying he could call her anything he wanted. And he's so tempted to name it after her, but... Well, that might give away his True Name, so maybe it would be better if he doesn't.]

You remind me of someone I know. [She had not been summoned like he was, or at least, not yet, but if she was, he was sure she'd be...] How about Caster?

( starlight sights )
[The moogle has been leading Arthur around with some enthusiasm, although... at this point, it's starting to be a little exasperating. As she tugs on his hand, leading him to the cafeteria, he reminds her, for the umpteenth time today—]

As I said earlier, I don't actually have to eat anymore...

[As much as he didn't mind eating, he wasn't lacking in energy at all and there were more important things to be doing right now. But the moogle insists on "showing him something exciting, kupo."

She's pulling his leg. He's sure of it. This moogle is a little too familiar.]