◣ OPEN ◢ HATCHING LOG 001

[raiamods]

WHO: All PCs
WHAT: New characters arrive on Ethyraia, get interrogated, and settle in at the basecamp.
WHEN: May 21 onward
WHERE: Basecamp Leviathan
NOTES/WARNINGS: Potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore, alcohol and drug-use, light aphrodisiac effects (optional), and references to mass death.

HATCHING LOG 001 ❀

CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore, alcohol and drug-use, light aphrodisiac effects (optional), and references to mass death.

Players who participated in our TDM are welcome to keep their CR and the content of those threads. Please make sure to chat this out on the OOC intro & CR meme before making assumptions. Please take your time reading the hatching and basecamp bullets, as some items have been altered or expanded.

❀ HATCHING

Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.

Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.

The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?

Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.

The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.

A few notes:

☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning. If you would like to thread this out, please reply to CAPT CHILDE'S top level comment! A caveat: threads will not go beyond (TEN) NPC replies, and new tag-ins will not be responded to after MAY 24.

☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?

☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!

☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. If your character composes a genius jailbreak, you are welcome to submit it in the MOD QUESTION comment to work out how that might go with the NPCs!

❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP

On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.

Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?

The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.

You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.

Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?

(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)

During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.

☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything that seems human-made will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.

☆ PCs will be warned about the acid rain and inhospitable wildlife that they'll face if they venture beyond the shade of the dragon's wings.

❀ RECRUITMENT FAIR

You've been here for a week, had a chance to show your mettle. Maybe you've demonstrated a propensity for fixing gadgets (or plumbing!) or you have the command of a natural leader and the ability to wield a gun (or a tire iron!) to great effect. Either way, the Adamant's survivors are eager to put you to work so they can have their first real 'days off' in three years! Survivors have set up their various areas in the hopes of catching your attention and (possibly!) bolster their numbers! Feel free to wander around, talk to other PCs, and get the lay of the land.

ENGINEERING CORPS

Thorkil has welded a sign to a post out front, cheerfully painted by a gaggle of children to say "WELCOME!" The children are crowded around the area, and Thorkil is telling them stories about one of his many tattoos as you approach — he has a magnificent eagle tattooed on his arm, and in a hush he is explaining how it landed on him and tried to bite him like a mosquito, and how he slapped it and it just splattered right there on his arm and he's never been able to wash it off!

The children seem mesmerized by the story (maybe you are too?) and will scatter at the story's conclusion, tugging you over to the various areas, pointing things out excitedly. What is an Ehlers-Chau sublight engine? You're about to find out whether you like it or not! Or maybe you can teach them a thing or two. Those who seem to know their stuff will be eagerly invited on board by Thorkil.

The Engineering division has salvaged its tools and scrap from the Adamant’s wreckage, so it has all of the essentials from metal mills to CNC routers to circuitry tools. A holo projector throws schematics on the wall — a drill, a few potential shelter ideas for long-term settlement, and a new communications tower.

SECURITY DIVISION

Rémi has barely deigned to participate — and seems to have done so only at the request of some of his companions. He's sitting at an unadorned table and he is cleaning a variety of weapons. He will scowl if approached, and seems openly mistrustful of your intentions should you speak to him. Questions about how a conversation with Rémi might go may be posted to the MOD QUESTIONS thread. (Note: We will not be threading Rémi, so these questions will be handwaved!)

Characters who make a positive impression on him will open up the avenue to work for the Security Division later, but he will not be extending any offers now — please allow for a realistic period of development here!

Feel free to lean into another PC's space and comment on how frosty that dude seems! You can also survey the various weapons stored in racks, help out with building spears, the usual suspects.

THEATRE

The theatre doubles as a childcare center, and many of the NPCs bustling about seem very excited and eager for the chance to talk to anyone who ventures in to visit. The theatre is bright and cheerful, paintings have been done on the walls of scenes from children's stories featuring colorful characters.

The thespians will not only try to recruit you (for acting in a play, for teaching, for script writing, for drawing on the walls or caring for children) but they will actively put you to work if they see you standing idle longer than a moment! Your character may find themselves with a paintbrush in hand, or taking part in a recital for a play (you're free to invent one, or put a new spin on an old classic! Romeo and Julio, anyone?) or building a set piece for one of the many local productions.

The Theatre doubles as the protective hub in times of need, so beyond arts education and babysitting, your character may also be tasked with shoring up those defenses, helping to fortify the walls, or other such tasks. And who knows, they may be paired off with someone else rather unexpectedly!

AID STATION

Sunya Hyacinth is the local medical doctor, fueled by coffee and spite. She doesn't have the time to recruit personally — she's flitting about the aid station seeing to the injured.

If you follow her, she will put you to work. Hold this stent, articulate this dislocation, take this blood pressure reading. If anyone appears to have a proficiency for this sort of work, she may inquire after credentials — and anyone who seems to have medical experience is going to immediately be handed the medic's armband, a white band with a blue cross emblazoned on it. This armband will grant any PC an extra amount of respect and trust from the Adamant's survivors — but you'd better be able to live up to it!

Feel free to treat any injured PCs, converse with other 'recruits', help pin that white and blue arm-band on... you know, anything under the sun. Some of the patients in the medical bay seem to be suffering from the adverse effects of some of the local flora — itching hives or burning pustules. One unfortunate soul seems only able to speak in limericks, which the medical staff will admit is one of the odder things they’ve seen.

SANITATION

CONTENT WARNING: DRUG REFERENCES

It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it! There are always latrines to be dug, pipes to be repaired, general maintenance to be done on the various sanitation systems.

A nervous-looking janitor will approach your character almost shyly, and ask if you wouldn't mind giving her a hand. If you are willing to help her (fix a pipe, dig a hole, etc), she will gradually warm up to you and seem more animated and lively and very, very grateful. Won't you please consider working with the Sanitation crew? Sure, it's not as glamorous as some of the other duties, but they're the backbone of the Basecamp and they could really use the help!

She'll even let you in on a little secret if you really butter her up or show an interest — the Sanitation Crew? Totally has a little underground greenhouse where they're growing marijuana. They're totally willing to share...

Feel free to dig latrines alongside your fellow PCs, or maybe even share a joint. It's a way to pass the time, right? PCs serving in sanitation will also have an easier time overhearing the gossip that spreads around the base, since no one looks twice at them.

COMMUNITY OUTREACH

CONTENT WARNING: REFERENCES TO MASS DEATH

During their first two weeks in the basecamp, any character who stops by one of the various houses of worship (in addition to a church, a synagogue, and a mosque, there is a temple with small statues to fifteen different unfamiliar deities, many of whom seem to be from different faiths), the gymnasium, or the mess hall will come across a stand that hosts a dozen or so packages.

Wrapped in the black emergency blankets that many bring with them to and from the bunks, these packages are about one cubic foot and contain folded clothes in roughly the same sizes. The styles are all different and highly individualized. Some are luxe, some are basic, and some are clearly the undershirt (but not the proper outerwear) for uniforms of the Adamant’s crew. Warm-faced folks eagerly give out a single package to each new hatchling. Along with the clothing and blanket, hatchlings will receive basic packages containing basic toiletries — bar soap, a toothbrush, a straight razor, etc.

Come by at the wrong time, and you might see a fight break out. A young person, red-faced, shouts at the volunteers working these stands, “Those were our people! Our families! We should be the one to decide what’s done with what they left behind.”

In hushed tones, clearly trying to keep this from becoming a conflict, the lead volunteer insists, “Take it up with Captain Childe.”


A few notes:

☆ Feel free to have your character sign on to help out with any of the listed divisions, with the exception of security.

☆ Characters may collect one (1) care package from the community outreach program. If your character intends to come back for more, please let us know in the Mod Questions thread.

☆ Feel free to ask for light NPC interactions in the MOD QUESTIONS header; we can give you a general idea of how a conversation might go! Like with the Captain Childe threads, none of these threads will be lengthy, and new tag-ins will not be responded to after MAY 24.

❀ THE DREAMING

You are standing at the edge of an immense, underground lake. Water laps at the shore, echoing in the cavern. There is a sense of peace and warmth and — welcome.

A creature emerges from the lake and approaches you. Its gills flutter, its eyes are a faint bioluminescent glow in the darkness. It reaches out to touch you — one long, elegant finger presses against your chest. It feels as if it might crack your sternum open and ferret beneath your bones as if looking, looking for something. Yet, there is no malice from it, and you feel no fear.

But the creature relents. It backs up. Bows to you once, and then turns and walks back into the water.

You stay for some time at the edge of the lake. Eventually, it seems as if another person is here with you, or perhaps they simply came into focus after being here just as long as you. Should you speak with them?

A few notes:

☆ PCs may interact with one another in the dreams. They will be in a semi-conscious state, not wholly aware they are dreaming and not wholly under the impression of its normalcy.

☆ Your character will wake up naturally from the Dreaming, they will feel peaceful and refreshed.
The lake, if they choose to swim in it while dreaming, would be perceived as the perfect ambient temperature for them — some characters may prefer it to be warmer or colder!

☆ If they duck below the water, they will see far-off glittering city lights, but no matter how they try to swim towards them they will never get any closer!

☆ If your character tries to drink the water, they might notice that for a few minutes after they wake they can hear little snippets of NPC thoughts. Weird!

☆ Every character will have a small, pale lilac mark where they were touched on the chest. It will fade over the next few days.

❀ FETCH QUEST

CONTENT WARNING: REFERENCES TO LIGHT APHRODISIAC EFFECTS

A small, perky woman corrals you somewhere near the latrines. "Hey!" she says insistently, pushing her hat back and sending a spill of inky curls askew from her forehead. "We need a hand. There's this plant we get for Sunya — the Doc? You met her yet? — it's a painkiller. Go through a shitload of that, which I'm sure is quite surprising," she says all this in a single breath, and her expression is sour despite her cheery tone.

"You any good at botany? We need another round of Starspire root. Can't harvest the ones we've got in camp, they've been a little cranky lately. You'll have to go about four kilometers due west, towards the old Adamant wreck. Just watch them — if they start to sweat, you'll need to get under cover, means the acid rain is coming. I'll upload the specs to your Comm."

Seems like you're being partnered with somebody else for the run — another person looking perhaps about as equally haggard as you, and at least as equally voluntold. Hopefully you won't run into any difficulties — how hard can retrieving one plant be?

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to have random monster encounters along the way! Don’t forget to wait for approvals on bestiary submissions before incorporating them into threads.

☆ The plants are at a high elevation, so they will exist on rocky outcroppings along a cliff-face. The landscape here is mostly high desert, which means it is full of thin, calf-high grasses, scrub plants, and non arable land polluted by dense, alkaline soil and rocks. Be creative in how you get there!

☆ Somebody gets hurt? Here, chew this root! They said it was a painkiller, right? What's the worst that could happen? (People can get a little ... flirtatious, shall we say.)

☆ Or you could go one step further and try exploring portions of the Adamant! Remember, the ship itself was built to house seventy thousand people — it's the size of a city, and it cannot be adequately explored in an afternoon! If you'd like anything specific to come of this, or if you’d like to know specifics about the Adamant’s layout, please consider submitting a plot request!.

NAVIGATION ❀

Comments

Trish Una | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

[figlia_morbida]

HATCHING

[As before, swimming and clawing her way out of a gooey egg has Trish shouting her displeasure even with her limbs too heavy to move.

Otherwise, she's slinging slime from her clothes and hair onto the cell floor, less than careful of who might be sitting nearby, seemingly with a renewed energy found between the disgusting squelches of slime between her fingers, and the anxiety of decidedly not being anywhere in Italy, not anymore.]

Whoever put me in that egg is going to pay with their life! Look at me, look at this! I'll never complain about being a boy again, at least they were dry!

[Her comments are extremely odd ones to make, to be sure.]

THEATRE

A.

[For Trish, several of the recruitment branches are either out of her element or entirely unappealing, with medical care the former and sanitation the latter. But she needs to do something and finds herself at the theatre. It's saturated in a color and cheer that's absent from the rest of the camp, strikingly so, and the smiling thespians and cadres of children are equally unique.

She gets dragged aside immediately, complaints dense on her lips, and she's left to paint the faces of children for a play of theirs, because her face is painted too in a way, and she should be good at it, right? No, her tigers and zebras are minimalist in design, but the kids don't care, turning to growl at each other anyway when she's done, predators all.

No, Trish isn't exactly enjoying herself, not until she blithely watches the adults on stage discussing an improv play, and wanders over, considering aloud. What about a monologue? With a musical aspect?

And she takes up a bowl and length of cloth, tossing the cloth about her shoulders and placing the bowl on her head, starting an impromptu story about a mysterious stranger arriving to town, stalking the length of the stage as if to make her steps the beat of the story itself. The thespians toss her questions to keep the story going, ever helpful.

There's guns and kidnappings and the Woman with No Name riding into danger, and it's very clearly a reimagining of a Fistful of Dollars with massive creative liberty. At a critical point, and with a few kids clinging to her skirt and giggling, Trish recounts how the woman had no semblance of happiness, trying to change a world all alone, caught in the strife with everyone else.]

Look around...everywhere you turn is heartache.

It's everywhere that you go.

You try everything you can to escape the pain of life that you know.

When all else fails and you long to be...somewhere better than you are today.

I know a place where you can get away...!

It's called a dance floor, and here's what it's for, so! Come on, let's go!

Let your body move to the music - hey, hey, hey...Come on!

[And she'll reach out to drag someone on stage to dance with her. Singing doesn't matter, if her partner isn't inclined, as she'll sing her edition of Vogue just fine, solo, pulling them along with her. And her singing isn't half bad. Strike a pose! Or end the whole thing by declining. The energy will deflate instantly, but that's fine. Trish is desperate for a break.]

B.

[If not able to find someone to hassle, she'll bend to dance with one of the kids, trading hands and spinning them until they're too dizzy to cling to her, but if they're having so much fun, surely anyone can?

Or, if preferred, she wouldn't mind a partner for her play. At any point prior to her closing musical, Trish will close her free hand into the flesh and bone facsimile of a gun, levelling it at any fellow hatchling wandering by because she's not going to entertain alone! Not forever, god no. In her best faux Western voice:]

I don't recognize your face. You from around these parts?

[Theme doesn't matter. Be a witch or a machine, she's a fashionista cowboy with nondescript animals clinging to her. This play makes no sense!]

C.

[For anyone content to watch (cowards), eventually her singing fades, the mysterious stranger rides to lands unknown, and the kids scatter to play more or nap, leaving Trish sitting on the makeshift stage, exhausted. Anyone who happened to be watching gets an especially pinched expression.]

You don't have to say it. That was embarrassing.

[ EXTRA

You will never catch her:

In the communal showers. At least, undressed. She will bathe with her clothes on and stomp out afterwards like the world's soggiest Prince Album. A towel isn't going to do much for a strategy like that, but it's what she's left with! She's too private to deign to this!

You can catch her:

In the mess hall, eating and enjoying it as much as anyone else. She looks ill, honestly. Even travelling in Mr. President afforded better food, and they never found out if the turtle came with the fridge or if someone installed it. Awful. At least the food from outside the room was legitimate!! She's otherwise present in all areas at least once, driven by curiosity.

OR: WILDCARD

I am open to anything! Any permutations of these prompts included! Trish is sort of distant at the moment but she's not opposed to conversation or commentary. Handwaving prior introductions or remarks on seeing her around are perfectly fine!]

Theater C

[neversmall]

[ Nina is absolutely content to Just Watch, thank you, and everyone should be thankful that Nina didn't feel the need to sing - she's horrible. Instead, she approaches Trish with a water bottle after the performance is done. ]

That was impressive.

[ Here, have some water - she extends the bottle. ]

[figlia_morbida]

[Trish eyes the water bottle, like she isn't sure she should take it. This woman is offering, which is terribly kind, but...

Trish puts up a hand. She's raspy, but she'll live. Her cheeks are tinged pink too, either from the exertion or the embarrassment. She didn't think any adults would pay any attention!]

Oh, you don't have to give me any water. It wasn't like I was doing anything taxing.

[She crosses her arms after that.]

Or impressive. It was either this or playing tag, and I don't know about you, but tag is possibly the worst game ever invented.

[Do you like running, Nina, do you? At least entertainment like musicals keeps kids in one place for a short amount of time...]

[neversmall]

[ Nina shrugs a little. ] Suit yourself.

[ She unscrews the cap and takes a sip of the water herself. See? No poison. ]

It's true - I'm not a fan of tag. Hide and seek could be useful, I suppose, but it defeats the purpose of keeping an eye on them. [ Added with a wry, friendly smile. ]

[figlia_morbida]

[There's no poison but there's backwash in it!!! Trish will never take it now...

She regrets her refusal a little, but she will croak at Nina in defiance.]

I think we'd be in a lot of trouble if we lost track of a single kid that way too. Absolutely not worth the trouble.

[Kids get too excited about being chased...spinning them until they're too dizzy to run is the best option.

Who is keeping track of these kids though? Some of them must be orphans. :( Trish gestures to Nina, as if to wave that thought away.]

So...did you get dragged here too, or did you come by to see the show?

[That's a joke. They don't announce shows here, so clearly Nina must've been harried by helpful thespians.]

[neversmall]

[ Nina nods, smiling a little -- yes, good call on the not losing a kid bit, Trish. ]

Oh, I'm helping with the sets. What about you? Can we count on a repeat performance?

[figlia_morbida]

Ugh, sorry. I came up here exactly to escape that.

[That, and getting small children to sit still for face painting. It's all you now, Nina. Scusa!

She gives Nina a flat look without any actual venom behind it at that comment, but if she's honest...]

Maybe later. If you happen to have any requests, I wouldn't mind that.

[If they even know the same kind of music. Nina might have to instruct her if its something totally new. Hmmmm.]

Assuming you plan on coming back. I didn't think about it, but I wouldn't blame you if you decided you'd rather run screaming.

[This lady seems so calm, Trish is honestly exaggerating, but she also won't make Nina feel obligated when thespians seem to lurk at every corner.]

Unless you want to join me up here, or something.

theatre c

[mylawn]

[In what seems to be the greatest stroke of luck he's experienced thus far, 76 manages to not get pulled into theatrical shenanigans. He doesn't really intend to stick around (if only because he fully expects his luck to run out), but everyone seems pretty captivated by the performance. She seems like a good sport, at least. Maybe 76 is a little surprised to hear she was embarrassed by the whole thing, once the kids are out of earshot.]

He offers her a shrug. No harm, no foul.]

It's better than what I would've done.

[That is to say, he's completely talentless and probably would have scared all the children away.]

Someone had to take one for the team.

your profile pic is fantastic

[figlia_morbida]

[Everyone here is so lucky...Trish doesn't mind pulling the theatre weight, in any case, especially because someone like this guy?

Look at those muscles obviously meant for other skills, this is definitely not his wheelhouse, even if it would be hilarious to watch him try.

She pulls her legs up so she can lace her arms around her knees, resting her chin where they cross and fixing him with a wry smile. She actually seems to appreciate the comment? "Taking one for the team" describes it well.]

If I wasn't a good person I would expect something in return for sparing you the trouble.

[She says that like she wasn't having some fun until it became apparent people old enough to know better saw her? She'll die.]

But I didn't come up with anything original, so you're off the hook. [Blah blah, good artists steal, she's sure he has no interest in that.] I don't know if anyone here has seen a movie in a long time.

[Or at all? Trish offers him a significant look at that. Has he seen a movie, actually? She realizes she doesn't know. You can't assume anything after hatching out of an egg.]

that's him that's the character

[mylawn]

[Luckily for everyone, 76 has great self-awareness with regards to his creative abilities. He knows full well that nobody needs to see him attempt any of this. Leave it to the people that know what they're doing, like Trish, though whether she enjoys it or not seems to be another matter entirely.]

Let's be glad you're a good person, then.

[Not that he's necessarily opposed to doing other people favors--he just wants to get a handle on the situation, first. 76 doesn't take a seat, opting to stand, instead, surveying the area in an apparent attempt to locate all the exits. Seems like a force of habit, more than anything else.]

We've got movies where I come from. That's a pretty old song, though.

[Like something his grandparents would've listened to.]

i support him

[figlia_morbida]

[C'mon, anyone can have fun on stage! Surely 76 has some good stand-up jokes? Delivering jokes with a flat affect can make for excellent comedy.

Trish didn't seem to hate performing in the moment, but she seems to be leaving it up to the audience on whether she had fun or not, if only to shield her pride just in case. Now she's embarrassed that they maybe did like it. You can't win with her...

She follows 76's gaze as well, though she doesn't have his survival mindset, and merely ends up taking stock of the people milling about now that the day is winding down.

At his comment, she looks back to him, brow raised.]

I guess it is. I was five when it came out.

[And 76 looks much older than her...so the fact he recognizes it doesn't surprise her.

However:]

But you know it, so that means you came from Earth as well. That's nice to know. With how different everything is here, I figured it'd be comforting to hear something familiar.

[She smiles, then. He looks way too hardcore to be a Madonna fan!]

Although I doubt it suits your tastes. Am I right?

someone has to

[mylawn]

[Well, that puts some things in perspective, he thinks. They're both from Earth--recognize the same pop culture, but he seems to be from well in the future. At some point the paths must have diverged, unless she starts telling him about a robot war.]

One version of it, anyway.

[He's still wrapping his mind around that, and sort of wishes he had Winston here to explain it to him. Infinite versions of Earth across infinite timelines. By now, at least, he's able to take it in stride. Could be interesting, to learn about what could have been different in his own world.

He shrugs, indicating that he doesn't necessarily have strong feelings about it one way or another. It's grandparent music.]

Well, it's a classic.

[figlia_morbida]

[No, no robot war. Well, so far? You can't rule out anything in Jojo.

Trish has to chew on the word "version" for awhile, but this gentleman can't be anything but correct. If Bruno is here, then there has to be some manipulation of time and space, and it's likely true for everyone else, although comprehending the scope of that is immense for a fifteen year old girl who just learned what Stands are two months ago, which is a lot on its own.]

Hm...if there are "versions", then I wonder what that means for this place.

[Was there a hiccup in the greater universe that dumped them here? They're not the first, if the barest context is true...

But thinking about that makes her anxiety spike because what do they even do about that? She waves the thought off, figuratively and physically with a motion of her hand.]

Classic doesn't equal enjoyable, either. The great literature of the twentieth century might be better suited for the trash if you ask me.

[Ugh. But it did have a purpose. And she can't help relating that back to their situation.]

But that's not important. I'm curious, what do you think our purpose here is?

c... i have to

[unfastens]

[ call it cowardice, i will call it 'sparing trish from further embarrassment by dragging bruno on stage somehow...' unfortunately for her, however, that doesn't mean he missed it. He wasn't there for the entire thing, but he at least caught her singing towards the end. Trish might have seen him leave afterwards, which would probably feed into that cold, calculating mafioso image, but he's reappeared now, a canteen in hand. ]

The kids didn't think so.

[ he walks over, the suggestion of a smile in his eyes, even if it's not entirely on his face, and offers his canteen to her. ]

Your throat must be dry after that. Here.

everyone just wants to watch her suffer i see how it is

[figlia_morbida]

[Yeah, if Bruno had been dragged on stage and Trish had to look him in the eye? It would be over. There is no elegant and graceful way to dance with a capo and there is absolutely no possibility anyway that Bruno Bucciarati would entertain the idea of improv OR dancing.

Trish would rather perish on the spot than entertain any variety of salvaging such a scenario. Hell, she'd walk off first and leave him there - make him deal with the awkwardness!

But fortunately for everyone, he shows up late, enough she only glances at him, unsurprised to see him leave after. Likely, he's checking up on where she had gone, and nothing more.

But when she's left alone on the stage, he's back, and she wrinkles her nose, rasping:]

They're too young to feel shame yet.

[She eyes the canteen, thinking, often, about how everything here is shared, but she's so thirsty and she finds it's even more embarrassing to sound like a frog trying to talk, so she takes it without complaint, downing half the thing. Once she's cleared her throat, she offers it back to him, admittedly curious that he returned. It wasn't like she was doing anything interesting...]

You and I both know that was terrible. I haven't been in a play since I was thirteen.

[WHICH WASN'T THAT LONG AGO? TRISH?]

it's out of love

[unfastens]

[ don't be like that, Trish! He'd dance... if he had some alcohol in him, and wasn't stressed out simply by existing in this place. Not that she would know that Bruno Bucciarati actually does know how to have fun sometimes.

It's part of the reason he approached her. Not about himself or having fun, specifically; just the realization that they truly do barely know each other. He risked everything (lost about all of it, too, by his reckoning) for this girl, and he didn't even know that she liked to sing until this moment. Once again, as strange and vexing as this situation may be, he's reminded that it is very much a second chance for him; that, despite its strangeness, it's actually less perilous than the situation in which they met. ]

You're only fifteen now, aren't you?

[ also, yeah, that wasn't that long ago and he knows the basics about her. Taking the canteen back, he shifts, coming to sit next to her on the stage (leaving a respectful amount of space between them, of course), and there's a dryness in his tone that indicates he's maybe teasing, whatever that sounds like from Bucciarati. ]

In any case, you're wrong. You have a lovely voice, Trish. [ then he goes ahead and says that with his usual straight face, anyway. ] You should let Mista know. He's been looking for a karaoke partner that isn't Narancia.

bullies

[figlia_morbida]

[It's true. The day she sees Bruno having fun is the day she gets a new pair of eyes, or something.

Trish doesn't have nearly the same perception of the situation as Bruno...all she knows is that she wants to live, and they've been offered no recourse here but to integrate or just sit aside to be ordered around when the locals decide so. It's scary, it's stressful, and she's not sure what possessed her to sing until her throat hurt other than an outlet presenting itself and Trish leaping on it. It made some people smile, despite everything...so it was worth it, wasn't it?

Maybe she simply can't comprehend sitting and being paralyzed with fear anymore. Why bow your head when you can lift it and be heard?]

I'm two weeks from turning sixteen, thank you.

[Watch out, we got a badass over here. At the mention of Mista and Narancia, Trish sort of deflates. She notably ignores the compliment, because acknowledging Bruno was paying attention is too much for her right now.]

I know Narancia liked music...but I can't picture Mista singing at all.

[She's trying to picture it, though, and she can't hide her smile. He's an idiot and yet she misses him, somehow.]

I haven't seen him or Giorno in two months, otherwise I'd be more than happy to take him on stage and crush him in front of an audience.

[She's now imagining all of them together, before Diavolo ruined it all...Bruno and Abbacchio sitting at a dim table watching Narancia and Mista belt their hearts out off-key. Giorno she can't imagine being anywhere near karaoke on purpose, so he's probably sitting awkwardly against the wall like the wallflower he is. Hah, flower. Fugo...is being angry or something, she supposes. He seems the type to know when a song is being butchered.]

It would be fun because he wouldn't care at all, would he? He'd laugh about it.

[unfastens]

[ so it's her birthday soon? She really never gets a break. He doesn't have a good enough grasp of when they are to make that information useful, nor does he have anything he could possibly give her, anyway, but he stores the knowledge regardless. Bruno hums. ]

Don't underestimate his enthusiasm. Or his volume, for that matter.

[ she's right, though - he'd laugh about it. It's a nice memory for Bruno, those times with the old gang, even if it's bittersweet now. He doesn't miss the way she seems to sober at the mention of their names. The wounds are still fresh, to be sure, but he doesn't want to dance around the subject of them. He wants to remember them.

(Either that, or it all happened so fast and so recently that he still hasn't properly processed his grief. His existence continues to feel liminal, and he's so used to being the one who has to hold it together for everyone else. He's still doing it now.) ]

All of us would laugh about it, hard as it may be to imagine. [ since she's only known them as a bunch of thugs. which is also true, but still!! ] It's been a while. Seeing you up there reminded me of that.

[figlia_morbida]

[Trish doesn't even think he'd take notice of this information. If he wishes her a happy birthday weeks from now, she'll die? Thanks in advance.

She gives Bruno a flat but fond look, recalling how obnoxious Mista could be. How unabashedly and loudly he lived...she can admire that, actually. Not that she'll ever tell him that.

Bruno sounds just as fond, and Trish watches him. She wonders what Bruno thinks about when there's nothing going on...when he has time to sit and remember. What he's lost, what he's gained by being here. Being able to think back on his gang at his leisure must be nice but she can't comprehend it not being painful either. It hurts her and she barely knew them!

She leans back to rest her weight on her palms, humming.]

Mm, I guess I'm glad playing the fool brought back some good memories. I never got to see any of you really relax.

[Which sucks...

They seemed fun, if crazy.]

But that doesn't mean I can't picture it. I've heard Mista and Narancia laugh enough to hear it in my sleep even now.

[She wanted to throw something at the time. Now it just makes her sad...]

Wildcard

[hootlem]

[Trish would wander anywhere once for her curiosity, huh? We'll let a random encounter cure that.]

[It looks like a normal hallway: harmless, mundane, if in severe disrepair, like the rest of the camp. Only a passing shadow warns Trish of impending danger, followed quickly by,] Heads up!!

[A wrench shortly plummets to the floor from above—with a pale, bony hand still attached.]

[Above, Eda sits on her flying staff, hovering by a removed panel in the ceiling.]

i love her hat so much that icon is killing me

[figlia_morbida]

[Okay, yeah, if there's anything that would snuff out her curiosity immediately, it's probably an encounter with the local fauna. Barring that, the local gremlins are also a good deterrent, but Trish can't imagine anyone misbehaving in person like they would on the network.

Today, she will be proven wrong.

Trish doesn't have it in her mind at all to be looking up at any point, idly scanning the hallway as she walks, another of many dozen that are as dilapidated as the other.

Fortunately, the wrench isn't quite well-timed enough to hit her, though it is awfully close. That being said, Spice Girl's arm pops out of Trish's shoulder on reflex to deflect it just in case, but Trish herself has already jumped aside with a scream.

She doesn't even notice the hand at first until she rights herself, her expression plainly horrified when her gaze settles on it.]

What the hell...?!

[She finally follows its trajectory up to Eda, floating up there, like no big deal. It surely can't be her hand, she'd be screaming her head off, wouldn't she? And yet:]

Is this...yours?

[Does she even want to know what this person is doing.]

Winter spider hat is a fantastic hat

[hootlem]

Yep, that's mine! [And to prove that horrific point, Eda holds up her right arm—which ends just before the wrist, bone and flesh visible at the cross-section. Her other arm is up in the hole in the ceiling.]

Sorry about that. Just toss that back to me, would you? Kinda holding something together up here.

SPIDER HAT!!!!

[figlia_morbida]

[If Trish wasn't used to seeing people dismember themselves already, she would have possibly fainted on sight. Thanks, Bruno...

Trish wonders if she shouldn't just turn and walk away right this second, but unfortunately, she can't ignore that this person is possibly doing something useful.]

Hmph. Only if you can promise you're not breaking something.

[This place is already a wreck, please.

Anyways, Trish wrinkles her nose at the hand on the ground. No, absolutely not, she will not pick it up with her own hand. It's pale and sickly looking and makes her ill just looking at it...!

So she reaches for it, despite her prior statement, Spice Girl's hand overlaying with her own to pluck up the hand clutched around the wrench, tossing it back up to the strange lady afloat above them.

Which Trish isn't going to question, honestly. This lady's hand came off, she's not remotely normal.]

[hootlem]

[Catching a wrench without a hand isn't a graceful sight, bumping it with her forearm and then trying to pin it with her arm to her lap. With a little bit of finagling and muttering, a little of which was probably curse, the hand seemingly pops right back onto her wrist.]

Whew! [Eda flexes the fingers experimentally, then picks up the wrench again and reaches into the ceiling panel.] Thanks! This would've been really awkward if you hadn't. Owe you one, pink girl.

[Clinking noises ensure, presumably whatever the wrench was for.]

[figlia_morbida]

[It's only fair, since Trish swore too.

Anyways, she can only watch as this strange old woman nigh effortlessly pops her hand back on, considering how hard that should reasonably be for a normal person to do! Emphasis on normal!

Also, pink girl...it's not the worst thing she's been called. Trish doesn't leave, at any rate, peering up at Eda with her hands on her hips.]

You still haven't told me what you're up to.

[Squint!!

It's not like she's any sort of authority, but...she can and will tattle!]