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WEEK ZERO: ARRIVAL - OVERFLOW
ARRIVAL | |
| ▽ FULL NAVIGATION ▽ LOCATIONS ▽ STATUSES ▽ IC PROFILES ▽ IC RULEBOOK ▽ MURDER PROPOSALS ▽ PCS ▽ CURFEW ▽ ??? ▽ ??? ▽ ??? |
You know how the story goes by now. One minute you’re somewhere familiar, and the next you’re suddenly somewhere else. Unlike previous times before, the source of your rude awakening isn’t a mystery. A harsh jostle causes your body to lunge forward as a tire jumps over a pot hole in the road. Try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the steady thrumming of an engine and the gentle sway beneath you. The faint scent of gasoline seems to waft from the outside, but as you look around you’ll notice that the windows are locked, tinted, and impossible to see through. Likewise, the door ahead of you appears to be locked as well. Perhaps the scent is your imagination…? Regardless, though the lighting is a tad dim, it becomes apparent that you’re inside a large bus dotted with the occasional seat and amid a jumble of other bodies. The people you were last with may be among your fellow passengers. Perhaps they are not. But worry not; there’s plenty of time to look around and get to know one another on this long, strange trip. It may even be wise to examine the staircase at the other end of the bus. Who knows what awaits you on the other floors? Ah, but before you move too far it may be best to assess the situation. On the bright side, any injuries you incurred have been healed! Isn't it nice to have your limbs in place again? Miracles happen. But...what happened to your clothes? You’re fairly certain you weren't wearing this t-shirt before...and what's with the denim shorts? Maybe you were fortunate enough to get the knee-length version, but for those of you waking up in bootyshorts...well, we're sure you look great! And what better way to tie the whole look together than white socks and tan sandals? At least you'll be comfortable for the ride. Lucky for you, your new threads aren't the only gift you'll receive upon waking up. Attached to your waist is a high-quality bag filled with some fun goodies for every passenger! For those of you who unzip your bag to check its contents, you will find: -Dry shampoo No other items are on your person at this time, even if you were holding onto it as you began your previous departure. That's a bit troublesome, isn't it? Not really; it's still a bus. Be grateful for the extra elbow room, alright? Oh, and one last thing...on the wrist of every passenger is a small, equally fashionable white scrunchie. Not your style? Perhaps it's a good idea to give the travel guide another read. Searching the bus from top to bottom will net zero results in the way of an escape. All of the windows are similarly tinted and locked, and the only exit door appears to be the one on the first level that can't be opened at this time. But hey. You're all old pros at this, right? You know what to do next! Get to know the people around you, trade stories with your fellow passengers, and...well. Buckle up for the bumpy ride ahead. |
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he fixes her with an extremely sour (and bloodied) frown.]
Only you would think that.
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[akira apparently gets the slide?
sitting cross-legged, he brings his shirt up, wiping his face on it.]
Why can't you ever approach me like a normal person.
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Why can't you ever talk to me without beating the shit out of me, huh?
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and scoffs, latching on to the opening.]
Hah—so you admit these were my wins?
[it's a stupid asch thing, but it's nearly an olive branch.]
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Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy. [ she rubs at her face, and - ow. pain. ]
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[or he would sleep even worse than he already does! haha!
the blood is still going. he wipes it off on his shirt again, which is rapidly being stained red.]
Do you know where we are?
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Nope. [ she's gonna pull herself to her feet, though, and go over to help him up. take her hand, bastard man. ] Maybe we all died on the way home and this is the ride to the afterlife. Wouldn't that be fuckin' hilarious.
Come on, we're gonna find you something to stop your faucet nose.
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Hah. The final punchline.
[he elbows beau in the stomach, just hard enough for her to feel it, but soft enough to nearly be... well, friendly. or something adjacent to it.
huh.]
The toilet paper will do. It'll stop eventually on its own.
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Ow. [ she says dryly. she'll just use some of the toilet paper in her bag and press it gently against his nose. this is the second time she has mom'd this hard in the last few hours. she's getting old. ]
You hold it, so I don't have to follow you around until it does stop.
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[He snatches the paper out of her hands, the whole experience clearly flustering him.]
I can blot my own nose, Beau.
[and he busies himself with....... jamming toilet paper up his nose, yeah.]
Go beat someone else up. I'm sure you've got plenty of people you haven't hit yet.
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... You called me Beau. [ and not!! trash woman!! she'll take that victory. another pause. ]
And you're also the one who started it.
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he did.]
Of course I did. It's your name.
You balanced a shoe on my head, idiot. What did you expect?
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I don't know, not you smacking me in the face with it. [ she doesn't sound mad, though, just cheerful. ] It's fine, I knocked your nose in, I'm satisfied.
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[he huffs, but it's more exasperation than anything. whatever.]
You didn't break it, if that's what you were hoping for.
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Anyway. Make sure you keep an eye on it. I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead standing up.
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Tch. Watch your own bruises. I'll be fine.