modblob: (Default)
Mods ([personal profile] modblob) wrote in [community profile] redmarsshit2020-04-27 08:43 pm
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test drive meme: april 2020

Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.

▶ Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.

▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.

▶ SPECIAL NOTE: We're only a month off from the 1 year anniversary of the first TDM, and we received this request for a fancy dress ball, so we thought it would be funny fun to run with it! This TDM will only have one prompt/event, as the monthly log with a bit more plot-related stuff will be going up on Friday May 1st.

a. an invitation.

There are ears everywhere in Anchor. A maintenance bot here, a surveillance AI there. SINI, restlessly pacing the dark digital hallways as she watches over the things that still matter to her. It doesn't take long for word to get out about Starscream's expedition plans. It takes an even shorter time for that news to circulate amongst Anchor's robo-population.

They know when you're unhappy. They always know.

It's why residents will start waking up one fine day to find gorgeous clothes laid out for them to wear and an invitation to a formal dinner taking place down at the plaza at Anchor’s base. The clothes aren't particularly specific to a character's gender, species, or culture - it's all about what the bots think your character would like best. Even if they're wildly off the mark, the clothes are still made to fit and fashioned beautifully. The invitations are marked "TOMORROW, STARTING AT 6PM LOCAL TIME." A smaller note underneath instructs attendees to see the tailor bot adjacent to the spa if they are unsatisfied with their assigned clothing, and also that the spa bots are on high alert, prepared to beautify anyone who wants some extra pampering and a dash of makeup.

Just be careful. Some of the makeover bots are really fond of glitter.


b. quite the spread.

True to the word of the invitation, the plaza is closed off under large white tents and guarded by bots who encouragingly steer you elsewhere should you try to get inside. They're nice, polite, all the things they've been programmed to be whether they like it or not, but there will be no sneaking by them into the party area.

At 6pm on the dot the day after the clothes arrive, characters will find music playing on all levels of Anchor, broadcast from the musical robots who have been practicing ever since that first tiny party almost a year ago.

Invitations will be taken by a bot in an impeccably tailored suit, and characters will be welcomed onto the red carpet that curves around the edge of the park and into the area cordoned off for festivities. The flashbulbs and cheering of bots that line the carpet echo through Anchor, broadcast along with the music until it sounds like the entire place is full of faintly electronic cheering. Each arrival is greeted with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, their image projected larger than life against the interior of Anchor's dome.

The sides of the tents have been rolled up, revealing the absolutely decadent set-up within.

Rows upon rows of buffet tables laid out with the most extravagant and strange dishes for residents to try. All of it delicious, though not all of it will appeal to every palate. There are sweet dishes, savory, spicy, whatever you can imagine. Appetizers of a hundred different kinds. Fruit plates formed into works of art, showing places and events from around Anchor. There are spun sugar reindire. Tiny plates of hors d'oeuvres that depict the faces of residents, both current and former. One particularly large dish is sculpted in the shape of what looks like an explosion emanating from Anchor's base, near where the locked and flooded rooms were found.

There's a cake near the middle of it all, frosting painting an image of a young, smiling man. Anyone who's seen him will, after a moment, recognize the whole and handsome features of a much younger Creepy Joe - the words on the cake say LET'S CELEBRATE OUR OLDEST LIVING RESIDENT!

While most of the food is at least recognizably from the general stores and from the agricultural level, there are other plants and garnishes that look entirely foreign. If asked where they came from, the bots will simply insist they're part of Anchor’s available resources.

There is also a full-service bar, but...not manned by the usual bartender (for anyone who might ask, the other bots will kindly inform them that the usual bartender is on sabbatical for stress). Instead there's a freshly-built bot serving drinks of all kinds, taking requests for old favorites and mixing up new cocktails based on guests' stated tastes.

The only thing not on the menu is a tequila sunrise.

There's a table full of hookahs and little treats that have various light, pleasant effects. These range from simple mood lifts to treats that will leave characters blissed out and relaxed.


c. dance, our residents, dance!

After people have finished arriving, the band picks up and guests' attention is directed upward toward Anchor's dome, where there's a truly magnificent light show being projected with musical accompaniment. It's spectacular, haunting and beautiful...and it shows more than just lights. It also shows celestial bodies in motion across the planet's dusk-red sky, meteor showers, strange northern lights. The show itself is almost an hour long, and ends with words unfurling across the apex of the dome.


HAPPY +1 ANNIVERSARY ANCHOR #3, THE LONGEST RUNNING COLONY.

STAY HERE, STAY HAPPY!



The show fades away and the music picks up again, encouraging guests to dance.

Go on, dance.

It’s a party after all.


d. the network.

Need to get hold of someone, call for help, ask the city at large a question? Need to ask a friend to back you up to take out the toothy voids? Maybe you need to hold your sat phone up to whatever crazy thing you're seeing and send out a recording to double-check if your eyes are deceiving you and what you're looking at is real?

Whatever the reason, the network is going strong, so feel free to include a post to it in your top-levels.



birdical: (💋 (something about the open road))

SHAMELESS TOPLEVEL FOR SHARING OUTFITS

[personal profile] birdical 2020-04-28 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
For folks to reference! But mostly because I want to see all of them. ;w;
Edited 2020-04-28 06:44 (UTC)
abheirrant: (❧ it only hid so much)

[personal profile] abheirrant 2020-04-28 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
Though he's going to complain to the tailorbot about half a dozen other outfits, Carlisle will be wearing this to the party proper, but with this scarf/hat combo to cover his lower face.

Let's be real, though: he'll mostly be holding the hat and fiddling with it because a. his hair, and b. he does not know how to interact with people at a party.
itsnotaonesie: (127)

[personal profile] itsnotaonesie 2020-04-29 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
Did someone say SUIT VEST because that's what Ya Boi Peter is wearing to this shindig because he will fist fight a robot if it tries to launch glitter at him

Zer0 is rolling in looking slightly fancier.
arcadedragon: (Arms Folded)

[personal profile] arcadedragon 2020-04-29 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
Genji will be looking mighty fancy and not wearing his mask or helmet so everyone can see his hair all green and spikey. He will be feeling awkward as fuck, but at least he looks good.

I've decided to be nice to Pratt and he'll get a normal suit in olive green. Know that he will hate every moment of this and probably put his jacket over the whole thing. But look, he washed his hair and shaved. He cleans up nice.

I'll get Kabal's up soon.

circumspector: (( twirl ) » don't want your opinion)

Angel & Gilia

[personal profile] circumspector 2020-04-29 05:03 am (UTC)(link)
- Angel will be turning up like the Space Future Princess she is in canon and in extreme bling. One full gold ball gown & veil with horns hung with golden chains and pearls. What else is super strength for then hauling your own weight in gold and fabric?

- Gilia (OC I am TDM), will be arriving in the full regalia of her court appearances, which is evocative of Russian Traditional Dress & 11th century fashion. All of it vaguely evocative of the sea with wave & shell motifs. Her hair and neck is covered by a lace wimple and veil, and she's wearing a impressive headress in the same motif over the top. All garments are strung with pearls and shades of blue, green & white.
fishermansweater: (Default)

[personal profile] fishermansweater 2020-04-29 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
My extremely fancy peacock will be wearing this and loving every minute of it.
numerouno: (XVIII)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-04-29 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Scaramouche will be wearing this ensemble; just pretend the tie is orange and the hatband is turquoise. He'll also be wearing an orange paper flower on his lapel, gold cufflinks, and black patent leather shoes with red satin spats. He'll have his weapons on him as always: a hefty scimitar carried in a black scabbard on his back and a large dagger carried in a black sheath at his left side.
numerouno: (X)

Scaramouche | Samurai Jack | in-game

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-04-30 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
Scaramouche arrives fifteen minutes before showtime and makes his entrance at six o'clock sharp; he never misses a cue.

The formal announcement of his name, the riotous reception, and the sight of his own image lighting up the dome above them are all unexpected, but they're a welcome surprise. What better way to kick off this little shindig than to celebrate Scaramouche? His expression undergoes a sudden shift from out-and-out dumbfoundment to childlike glee in two seconds flat, the tension in his stance melting away as he obliges his audience with a deep bow, sweeping off his hat with a wave and a flourish. The servant bots have always waited on them hand and foot and he knows this is more of the same, but that makes it all the more entertaining to him. He struts along the runway, preening in the spotlight; he knows how to hold the stage!

With the sound of applause still ringing in his sensors, there's an unmistakable spring in his step going forward. After circling the tables to inspect everything, he swings by the drinks counter, grinning widely when he's handed a drinks menu!

"Well, whaddaya know? These bot-brains can throw a party!" He's talking to himself, but his voice carries--anybody nearby could hear it and join in.

Eventually, the band picks up, signaling the first few moments of the light show. "They really went all out." His luminescent gaze descends from the spectacle and rakes over the heads of the party-goers and their bot attendants, staring at the archways leading out to the presumably empty halls of Anchor. Taking a distracted sip of his fluorescent cocktail, he turns and sidesteps behind the small cluster of onlookers, his optics flicking up again to the presentation before falling in a zigzag across the atrium. All those walkways going unpatrolled...

He wonders.

Once the music returns, so does his partial attention on the residents around him in all their glamour. He skirts the edge of the dance floor with an unhurried stride, occasionally casting a suspicious glance at the surrounding area while he scats along to the beat.


[ooc: Feel free to pick any time/place at the party to interact with him! Will match format!]
Edited 2020-04-30 08:26 (UTC)
circumspector: (( twirl ) » don't want your opinion)

ANGEL THE SIREN | BORDERLANDS

[personal profile] circumspector 2020-04-30 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)
i.
Angel was, in a word, unbelievably excited. From the second she realised the dress was for her, and that there was somewhere to wear it. Not that she needed an excuse, she'd wear it just to walk around the long winding corridors of anchor as much as for a party. No reason or care why she couldn't do what she pleased when it came to these little freedoms. But even more so when she found it was for everyone to get their own interesting clothes, and that there were robots who had joined in with them, and would dress them up further.

So Angel, never one to refuse a robot much of anything, let them go to town with the glitter. Do her hair, and hang any kind of frippery in her horns, to match the golden dress. The thing clearly weighs a ton, but what else was super strength for but to carry herself effortlessly.

So, on Connor's arm, she arrives with him. A glittering bauble to his tall, dark and mysterious. Or so she thought they looked. It's for show and play, but she really is enjoying the fiction of it. Like they were some trendy socialites from Dionysus, or something like it. She smiles and smiles and smiles and the effect makes it all the more eye catching because in her happiness, her usually blue markings begin to glow and ebb. Turning a pure white light that makes the golden material and pearls shimmer as she walks. Happy to do a twirl of her skirts that make them flair out like Midas' dream.

Giggling to herself all the while.

But when it's over, she's there cheering and applauding everyone else who arrives, floating in her ridiculous dress.

II. Angel & Connor Open Prompt

Angel and Connor are to be found together for a good portion of the evening - which is a sight in itself, since they didn't necessarily hang about each other's pockets often but the affection they have for each other is plain, Angel smiles at him like he's her whole damn world, when she leans into his side and though he's a sight less so exuberant, he returns each smile with one of his own, often gentle and subdued but still very much there. Never far from each other's fingertips or casual touches.

But they're hardly secluded and secretive, both of them happy to talk and Angel is quick to draw in company with a glass of champagne into a passer-by's hand and to bring them in.

"I'm a bit worried, what am I going to give the Reindire to drink if there aren't any more Tequila Sunrises? But Connor told me most animals usually just drink water on his planet."

Connor for his part looks wary of whoever Angel invited, unless it is someone he's more familiar with and has decided can be trusted. His brow creases in a slight frown as he eyes the newcomer carefully, clearly sizing them up and trying to decide what to think of them.

iii.

For once in her whole life.

Angel looks at something.

And has no fucking clue what she's supposed to do.

Jack had money, Jack had so much money, and yes, she did know everything, so far as being the best search function anyone had ever invented. But what did eating and dining matter to her when she hadn't actually consumed a meal for the better part of her last five years? Food, like sleeping, physical intimacy, the feeling of the sun on her skin and hope for something better in life belonged wholly to the nice but practically not possible.

So when faced with the sheer line up of cutlery, she felt... Utterly lost.

This was like those first few weeks, when she couldn't walk all over again. Weak and unused to her own body. Only with forks. Why were there so many forks? Why were there so many spoons? Didn't you just need one glass for drinks? Why were they all different shapes?

But there was a order to this business, apparently, trying not to stare. Instead to surreptitiously study people around her to work out the order to this madness.

iv.

Angel's dancing is... Inelegant. Which is probably from a technical standpoint, one of the better things that can be said.

But she is deeply enthusiastic, which makes up for it, because something has to. Thankfully, with so much skirt to hang onto, she can't make too much of a fool of herself, and with hooves she's a lighter, surer step. Mostly she is content with what seems to be her primary dance move, dancing around in a circle so she could enjoy how the material floats around and flared out in a circle. Like a princess in one of those stories from Earth.

So no, maybe not the best dancer, or much of a dancer at all, but with her face tilted up, twirling about, she is utterly, giddily, finally herself.

And a little bit tipsy, though she doesn't send anyone flooring, she's mostly just prone to stopping and just catching herself from sending her and the other person tumbling with a big grin.

"Enjoying the party?"
aintyourbro: (Can't Stop)

Cloud Strife | Final Fantasy VII Remake

[personal profile] aintyourbro 2020-05-01 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[in which i avoid major spoilers because i'm a cool cat that way. just lmk if you don't mind spoils /insert thumbs up emoji here]

Arrival

Cloud wakes with a start, instinct taking over as he leaps to his feet and reaches for the massive sword that's... actually nowhere near him. That's inconvenient. By the time he spots it on the other side of the room, he's also realized that there is no immediate danger, just some guy on a screen spewing some nonsense. Whatever, it's not his problem, he's just going to collect his sword and open up this here door -- except that he's not going to open up this here door. It's right about here where the recording reaches that 'the doors will open as soon as this recording is complete' part, and he realizes that this all very much is his problem now. With a frustrated sigh and a slight roll of his eyes, he fixes his sword to his back and crosses his arms, turning his full attention to the recording.

Said recording doesn't actually answer many of his more pressing questions, like 'where is my rolling crew', so he grabs a communicator and makes his way through decontamination, and from there immediately sets off to find the rest of his party. Unfortunately, the squad is nowhere in the immediate area, and they're not popping up in the same place Cloud did, because that would just be too convenient if they were, wouldn't it.

The ol' 'here's a confused new person' hook isn't the most interesting thing in the world, but that's about all Cloud has going for him at the moment. He's not shy about pulling someone over to ask questions, though. "I'm looking for someone, you got a minute?" and shit like that, though his approach probably isn't as polite as he was trying to go for. He's doing his best, ok. Tifa's not here to tell him to be nice.



An Invitation

Sorry robots of Anchor, Cloud has absolutely zero interest in your fancy party. He's double not interested in dressing up and he's triple not interested in dancing. Is that even math? I don't know, but he's not fucking going. He already got his fill of this shit in Wall Market, and by God if one more robot comes up to him trying to get him to 'put on this fancy-ass dress it will totally make your eyes pop', he's going to start cutting robots in half.

not right away, at least. They aren't being hostile or anything, just super annoying. Especially the two that insist on following him around everywhere with that dress and a box of makeup and glitter in tow. It's hard to explore the place when Beckytron and CyberSuzie are hell bent on giving you a makeover, and by the time they manage to corner him in the bar, he's decided he's had enough. Since the piss offs and get losts haven't worked so far, he's reaching for the hilt of his giant fuckoff buster sword. Save the robots, or just like, don't. Or help with the makeover, that's fine too. Choose your own adventure I'm not the boss of you.


Party Pooper

No really Cloud's not going to your big weird party, but what he is doing is assuming that all the rest of this place's population did go to it. Which means it's time for some good old fashioned breaking and entering. Not into like, private rooms, he's not that much of a dick, but he's definitely taking the opportunity to poke around in places that might hold useful equipment or information. The library, the garage, some of the R&D labs, places like that. He just kinda swoops in, makes a mess while poking around at stuff, and leaves without bothering to clean up after himself because this is not his goddamn problem. Assuming he can get past whatever security is set up, anyway. He's not going to risk forcing his way in, seeing as he only just got here like yesterday, but you bet your ass he's taking notes.

He can be caught in the act of being a nosy asshole either inside a place or trying to get into a place, or leaning against the railing on some random walkway and looking down at your crazy party. The light show is cool, but like, dude. The whole STAY HERE, STAY HAPPY! theme in this robot infested space colony is kinda Fucking Creepy and totally feels like some weird robo-cult brainwashing junk to someone who just got here and has no fucking idea what's going on. Needless to say, it makes him want to leave just that much more. Y'all are weird, okay.

Wildcard

[maybe someone wants to convince him to go the the party in that fabulous dress after all, or maybe you have better ideas than I do (five bucks says you do). HIT ME i'm like the most flexible person ever.]
seaboard: (dear lie still along my old web)

gilia st. loe | oc

[personal profile] seaboard 2020-05-02 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
i.
Every second in this place is like being smothered. Starved and emptied. Alone in a great desert, a daughter of the sea suffers. Her body shakes and shivers like she is beset by a terrible sickness. Her expression sunken and lost.

But however and whatever it is that has come to pass that she is here - what can she say of it? Nothing she dares to, not now, not ever. In fact, she speaks not a word to anyone, she hasn't been given the correct procedure to speak at all, so she dare not risk it.

Relief comes in the form of the invitation. At last, a chance to be presented to whoever the spirit-leaders are of this place, no doubt! What mercy from them no less, that they give her clothes that are... perhaps, a little grand for her taste, but at least is familiar. Though it is difficult to get dressed without her sisters and brothers there to help.

But do it she does and with the consummate role and grace that must be paramount to the Second-Child. It's neither new nor notable for her to be looked at, even if she so dearly hates it. With her back stiff and her shoulders sloping low, she doesn't stop nor poses for the procession, or in fact, lifts her head except when spoken to by name. There she raises her gaze, to give a stately nod in silent greeting. Best to just keep walking as the trail of her skirt behind her in a long sweep.

Far be it for her to be ungrateful for the invitation to something this lavish to her mind, but she looks visibly relieved when the fuss made over her is done. Oh, perish it.

ii.

Gilia eats like a bird out of each meal that is presented to her. All of it is lavish, sumptuous and sickening in its quantity that her mother would have words if it was ever found out that she gorged herself on such things. It would be unseemly in any form for someone of her position to take in large amounts, and to consume much of it at all. So she takes it simply in polite mouthfuls.

The only thing more painful is how dull the things she has to add to a conversation. Each thing is exact. 'Yes', 'no', 'if it pleases you', 'I would not think to presume that.' Stock responses to anything that she is expected to answer as she rapidly learns here that people seem to take direct conversation easily. That was mercy, until general conversation passes along...

"Oh, no, I have fiv- four siblings. One mother, three fathers and the Father-Sea, of course." Given that she has not even said her name yet to anyone, it might be the most she's said of anything, let alone herself.

iii.
When the dancing begins, Gilia is taken so strongly by it. For if there was one thing her people are known for, it was there dancing, a joyful memory that time nor pain can touch, but without that same invitation, she cannot permit herself.

Her hands curl under her long sleeves, her gaze stands fixed in rapture, out watching the robots and people move in their patterns. For the first time since she arrived, she looks enthused, despite her hesitance to join in. As much content to clap along with eager (appropriate) abandon. Smiling widely, the pearls around her head swaying as she moves.
kaballin: (Psycho)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-05-02 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
Kabal gonna be mercenary enforcer fabulous in this getup still with his hookswords on his back. And that suit will probably be blood splattered at some point.

Also a fancy new mask with matching white tubes so he looks classy.

As classy as a guy with a mask and respirator can look anyway.
kaballin: (Nah)

Kabal | Mortal Kombat | In-Game

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-05-02 06:25 am (UTC)(link)
1. They shouldn't have used the good china

Shockingly Kabal, for all his brutish, mercenary nature, has actually been to fancy parties before. Sometimes people who buy black market weapons like to flaunt where it comes from and for people higher up in the ranks than the Enforcer, it's good for networking.

Kabal just liked to go to them to eat and get laid. He's probably got both of those things covered for the night, so that leaves some fun hobbies instead.

If it looks at all valuable, isn't nailed down, and it could conceivably fit in his clothing - Kabal is stealing it. What is he going to do with all this? Who knows. Probably melt it down into a bundt pan of silver teaspoons or something.

He's also not being exceptionally stealthy. It's not as if anyone will stop him right?

2. Keeping it Classy

The bartender that serves things other than Tequila Sunrises is much appreciated right now. Still, the fancy goblets that the bar bot is using might shatter if Kabal looks at them wrong let alone touches them. (He may have smashed a few on accident, they weren't made for his meaty mitts). So he's managed to get an entire cut crystal decanter of whiskey away from the bot and is drinking straight from it, mask dangling around his neck.

By some miracle he hasn't spilled anything on the clean white outfit the bots insisted on him wearing even though his other hand is holding a platter full of all kinds of food that he's been devouring. If they're gonna feed him for free and have an open bar he's going to take advantage of it.

And he hasn't set anything on fire or killed anyone so he must be in a really good mood.

3. Fire just makes it fancy

There was an unspoken yet about him not setting anything on fire or killing anyone. Because he definitely set something on fire.

It's part of the dessert table. It's on fire. He wanted to see what would happen if you set fancy desserts on fire they way they do on tv and it turns out what happens is fire.

That's science for you.
macaire: (Default)

Magnus Macaire / Werewolf OC

[personal profile] macaire 2020-05-02 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[More information here]

2. Quite the Spread

This is not the grand gatherings a gentleman of his standing is used to. He might be dressed as any knight of the realm ought to be, in a well-cut suit of flattering grey, a well-tied cravat and starched collar, but this is no regal ball or supper with Gladstone.

True, the moving images high above are certainly a spectacle, and there is enough food to feed any number of people but it is... loud. Brash. The dancing is strange and none of it is as elegant as he is used to. Even in the Americas, the shuffling of bodies around a floor tends to have some small measure of grace.

But there are many people in attendance, and if he wants to learn about this strange place, they are going to be the focus of his attention. The food, the drink, none of it appeals. It would not, of course, and he does not expect his rather unique tastes to be catered to, having only arrived two days before. It is clear to him that this place is not home, nor any place he knows of, and his kind are not in evidence. But neither are the vampires. A small mercy, even if something to eat would quiet the slow stir of bestial urges.

He would do well to learn all he can about the place and it's occupants as quickly as he can, and embed himself within what passes for society here. Such an event occurring so soon after his arrival is beneficial, but not miraculous. Despite his unfamiliarity with the place, the people, the cause of celebration, Magnus finds himself a comfortable spot near the great table laden with food, and makes idle chatter with some of the other guests.

"These automatons of yours, they arranged all of this? The food, the drink, the music? How very interesting."

4. The Network

To Whom it may Concern,

I find myself an unwitting but not unwilling resident of your colony, and whilst it is not like the time nor place I am most familiar with, I do intend to understand it as best I may as quickly as I am able.

As such, should you have the inclination to provide me with the particulars on how this place came to be, our purpose here, and whatever other details are pertinent to the occupation of this place. I am also interested in the fate of those who built this structure, and who now controls it.

Those that can provide such information, in sufficient detail, will be rewarded. Correspondence is prefered for the negotiation of terms.

Yours sincerely

Sir Magnus Macaire
arcadedragon: (Glasses)

iii

[personal profile] arcadedragon 2020-05-03 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
Genji is feeling rather self conscious in the black and green suit the robots had picked out for him. It felt odd to wear clothes over his armor, not to mention he not only isn't wearing his helmet, he doesn't even have it with him. He'd left it in his room because he knew himself, at the first sign of awkwardness he'd be slamming it back on his head and hiding because that was easier than facing personal interaction head on.

He has gathered a plate of food and sat down and is now confronted with too many shiny silver utensils and half a dozen glasses. Like Angel he is utterly lost, sending a few panicked glances her way.

"Do you know what any of these are?" a hushed whisper as if they're co-conspirators in place setting espionage.
theweakhavepurpose: (Monologue)

2.

[personal profile] theweakhavepurpose 2020-05-03 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
Someone very much not at ease with this party is Pratt. Not that he's ever at ease, but his normal state of being a neurotic mess is now warring with how damn uncomfortable he is to be wearing a suit. The last time he wore something fancy was at a cousins wedding and he hadn't enjoyed it then either. At least this fits better but he's ever aware of it and trying to not spill anything down his shirt.

Hence why he's wearing his normal army green jacket over the suit. It doesn't quite go together, but he'll take that small comfort over being completely exposed. At his side walks a white wolf with keen yellow eyes. She has a flower crown of green and yellow flowers woven together which is around her neck rather than on her head because she kept shaking it off and trying to eat it.

If he has to look stupid, she has to look stupid too. Fairs fair.

"The bots? Yeah they do stuff like this sometimes. At least the music is better this time, when I first got here they sounded like a bunch of cars backfiring." He has a plate full of vegetables, and only things that he can very clearly tell what they are, trying to hold that and a glass of beer at the same time.

"I think it makes them feel like they're helping or something."
mustact: (Default)

[personal profile] mustact 2020-05-03 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
Connor will be wearing this suit with gold on it to match Angel. c:
towhatmatters: (Default)

[personal profile] towhatmatters 2020-05-03 08:27 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur will be treated to his canon fancy outfit and no he's not particularly happy about this but he also can't be bothered to kick up a fuss.
Edited (Words and HTML are hard) 2020-05-03 08:27 (UTC)
towhatmatters: (→03)

Arthur Morgan // Red Dead Redemption // in-game

[personal profile] towhatmatters 2020-05-03 08:51 am (UTC)(link)
1.

It's not that Arthur has never been to balls or parties. The difference is that normally he's there for work, and that work normally involves criminal activity. Now, not only is he being made to dress up again, in an outfit that's far too familiar to be comfortable, but there's also no work involved, which ... leaves him feeling more than a little bit out of place.

He did go to see the spa bots, albeit hesitantly, to shave off his beard and trim his hair. Luckily, he walked away with no makeup and only a little glitter that he washed off to the extent that you can only see it on his neck if you squint. He has also resolved to never ask a robot to make him look decent ever again. Maybe he'll ask Charles to cut his hair next time. Can't be too bad.

When he's not standing around at the edges of the plaza looking like a fish out of water, he is either ...

a. at the buffet table, curiously studying the dishes of unfamiliar faces and the hints of previous happenings. He's particularly intrigued by the explosion dish, and watches it for several seconds with his thumbs hooked into his belt. It's a little difficult to tell just how big the explosion was from a miniature, but if it's accurate in relation to the rooms ...

"Dunno that I've ever see an explosion that big," he mutters, to himself but still audible to anyone who happens to stand nearby.

b. at the bar, eager to see that there's more on offer than just Tequila Sunrise. In fact, he goes ahead and asks for a whole bottle of whiskey, and downs a mouthful right then and there. Then, he lowers it with a crooked grin, pleased at the burn of it.

"Now we're talking. Get me a glass of beer too. Time to get drunk."

He's not working, after all. No need to suffer through this night sober.

Care to join him? Drink is always better with company.

2.

[ Just a good ol' wildcard. Feel free to hit me up to plot something else, or just toss me another prompt or w/e. ]
Edited 2020-05-03 09:00 (UTC)
towhatmatters: (→02)

An invitation

[personal profile] towhatmatters 2020-05-03 09:09 am (UTC)(link)
Even from a bit of a distance and without a good look at Cloud's back, Arthur can see just how fuckoff big that sword is. And while he is momentarily stunned by it, he also quickly realises that these idiot robots are about to be the victims of it and ...

Look, he doesn't know what he thinks about whether or not robots are alive at all. What he does know is that there's a lot of stuff around Anchor that no one really knows about, and he's not sure how kindly it would take to someone ruining its property. Does he usually care about this? Well. When he doesn't have the option to run anywhere else should everything go to hell, yeah, he kind of does. A little, at least.

"Now, now," he says, hands in the air as he walks over to them. "Let's not be hasty, gentlemen."

Are the robots men? Doesn't matter. Either way, they turn around, excitedly asking if he's also come for a makeover.
macaire: (006)

[personal profile] macaire 2020-05-03 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
The young man is almost as interesting as the wolf at his side. Magnus has very rarely met such creatures, and they tend to dislike his kind just as much as humans do. Werewolves are after all neither one nor the other, not man nor beast and for the most part, things that do not fit neatly in nature do not thrive.

He is the exception that proves the rule.

Whether she knows what he is immediately or not, he can not be sure, but he is certain the human does not. "Based on his clothing choises alone, he can not be very perceptive.

He doesn't quite understand what a car is, or while it would backfire, but it seems an unimportant detail, and no where near as interesting as what the man says next.

"They have feelings? Do you infer from such a fact that they pose a soul, some measure of self-awareness?"
aintyourbro: (Clad Strang)

[personal profile] aintyourbro 2020-05-03 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Cloud grips the hilt of his sword, but stops short of whipping it out when he hears someone else approaching. The robots seem just as excited about making this cowboy buddy look fabulous, but if they're focused on him they're not focused on Cloud, which means he doesn't need to chop them in half just yet. He slowly drops his hand, crossing his arms while he gives Arthur a little nod.

"These belong to you?"

He has a feeling that the answer is 'no', but maybe this guy knows who did program them to be so annoying.
macaire: (002)

III

[personal profile] macaire 2020-05-03 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
There are all manner of rules regarding the interaction between men and women, almost as many for those who are not formally introduced as there are for those who are married. Magnus is a man who observes such rules, for the sake of his standing within society, but there are occasions when such rules must be reshaped. A dance would normally be the last place to do such a thing, but in this place? At this time? What other choices do they have? Whatever the social norms of this place, they are as alien to him as his are to the rest of these people.

Therefore, he will take the initiative and make the connections he requires. And he will start with the woman in the trailing dress, pearls glittering like minute moons around her. A bow, as that seems always a welcome way to introduce oneself to a member of the fair sex, and then an extended hand.

"Ma'am, I see your eyes admire the floor. Would it please you to take a turn upon it?"
macaire: (Default)

[personal profile] macaire 2020-05-03 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Jacob Frye has this with this waistcoat, because he is a peacock and is being called out.

Magnus, is wearing something more period appropriate.

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