If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✠Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✠Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✠Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✠So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✠Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: YOUR COOPERATION IS APPRECIATED When you wake up, you find that a new application has been downloaded to your tablet. It's titled "SURVEY" and is exactly what it claims to be--although there's no explanation to why it's appeared or what it is for other than the note that claims the survey is not opt-out and that your cooperation is appreciated. And more troubling, the questions become more sinister the farther in you answer. Such questions as, "on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your stay?" and "have your needs been met in a timely manner?" become more akin to, "if you had to chose between the two, would you eat your hands or your feet to stave off the hunger?" and "are you sure you are not the last one still alive?"
Perhaps someone on the Network would like to discuss what this could mean--and if there are any consequences behind finishing or refusing to take the survey.
TWO: NOT SO HELPFUL AVATARS Every tablet has the option for a customizable avatar that will talk to you and keep your tablet in order. Maybe you set it up, maybe you never checked it. Either way, it keeps popping up unrequested and being sort of... Odd. Flickering, talking in strange, mechanical voices, offering advice that's unhelpful at best and actively harmful at worst... Maybe it's even telling the entire network some things you've been doing you'd rather everyone didn't know.
Time to call tech support. Unfortunately, the best option is other people on the network. Good luck.
Action Prompts
THREE: SPIDERS IN THE WALLS Somehow you or your travel companion injured themselves. A quick call to the admin fixed this, but now you can't help but be gripped with the burning curiosity of where the helpful spiders she deployed have gone. You saw them scramble toward the vents, but by the time paralysis wore off they'd completely disappeared. Only now you can't stop thinking about them. Where do they go to? How can they be trapped or followed? You swear you hear little mechanical pattering inside the walls. Maybe you can find some sort of tool to help you break into a vent around the house. Or maybe your companion can convince you to rest before you hurt yourself.
FOUR: SCHOOL DAYS You've ended up in the elementary school. Maybe you're grabbing more food, maybe you're exploring. Either way, this place is creepy; the atmosphere is the sort that gets the hair on the back of your neck rising (potentially metaphorically, if you don't have hair or a neck). It's not long before strange things start happening. The sound of running and screaming children, doors slamming in far off or nearby hallways, pianos playing... What's going on? It's hard to tell what's really happening from what isn't happening. Maybe someone who's also exploring has some idea.
Diane, make a note: Building just west of the grocery store is... Wait, Diane? No, don't post this to the network. Diane, make a note. No, make a note. And quit flickering like that, please. It's quite distracting. Diane? Diane?
[Cooper sighs, unable to get his little avatar to cooperate. How strange. Well, if she's already opened up a line to the network, he may as well make use of it.]
If you can hear this, I suppose that means my computer is on the fritz. The voice-activated avatar seems to be misbehaving. Would anyone out there be so kind as to help me get to the bottom of this issue? It's very important that I restore this program to working order.
The issue is that the tablet assistant is a service operated by a town's software engineering department that either hasn't been maintained in several hundred years or is being deliberately manipulated to make our lives miserable. You shouldn't have trusted it in the first place.
[It was a close call, and Natasha isn't a fan of asking the Admin for help, especially not when that help comes in the form of little robospiders she knows nothing about, but it was that or let her traveling partner die, so the choice was obvious. She's letting them rest now, keeping watch just in case. They might be locked in for the night, but Natasha still doesn't know what the rules are here, so she's in strict survival mode. Trust nothing.
Like those spiders. They went back into the vents, she thinks. It was hard to tell when she was paralyzed, her gaze fixed up at the ceiling, but that's where it seemed like they were going. Now, she almost thinks she can hear them moving around in the walls. The sound is so faint that she can't be sure, really. It could be the wind, or any number of a million things, but... Maybe the spiders are part of the surveillance system? The tablets certainly are, but if she can get her hand on one of those spiders, it might be easier to break open. There's a chance she could figure out what they are, exactly, or at least get an idea of how they work.
After a few silent moments, Natasha stands up, grabbing the sharpened bit of rubble she's been using as a makeshift knife. She drags a table over to one of the walls and hops up on top of it, reaching up to get at one of the vents near the ceiling, and starts to work at the screws. She can't get them to turn, so she gives up on that, prying at the edge of the vent with her shiv. There's something off about her movements—she's usually so careful, but now, she doesn't even seem to notice that the edges of the metal are cutting into her palm, and there's blood slowly welling in her hand and then drip, drip, dripping down her arm and onto the table.]
[Steve's own paralysis wore off a couple of minutes later, and he groans as he pushes himself to a sitting position. It's been a while since he's been blown up. Fuckin' hell but he hadn't missed it. He glances down at himself—clothes charred, and full of holes, and covered in blood—great—and then looks over to Natasha.
Natasha, holy crap. Surprise of his life running into her like that. Good thing, too, his memory after the blast is pretty fuzzy but she almost definitely saved his life.]
Natasha...
[He started to smile but his smile rapidly fades. She's bleeding. He pushes himself to his feet and hurries over to her.]
Nat, the hell are you doing, you're hurting yourself! [He reaches to wrap a hand around her wrist to try to stop her.]
One - @mkamzoil | video [This 'survey' is seeming more and more terrifying with each question. Does he really need to answer these? He comes to a question that he can't answer. A question about home, a question about the people he cares for and whom he'd kill to save Tzeitel.]
Is there anyone else taking this... list of questions? Has anyone finished it? [There might be the tiniest whine of distress in his voice.] It says it appreciates my cooperation. Are we meant to cooperate with all of it?
Four [Color Motel entirely spooked. Children scream, and he turns sharply, eyes wide and body poised to sprint away. That's precisely what he does when a door slams almost directly next to him. He's a decent runner, he can escape! Except... well, when he rounds a corner, it's right into someone else.
Motel yelps and grasps for the person, half to keep them up, and half to brace himself.]
[ Rose steps back when the other man grabs her, trying to shake him off. She's not especially sympathetic. If someone chooses to dwell among the terrible and uncertain, that's their prerogative, but they ought to at least get used to bumps in the night. ]
Perhaps you ought to think about escaping this place. I don't think it's good for you. Psychologically speaking.
[ Somehow, Merlwyb manages to sound faintly amused despite the deliberately even tone of her voice. Truth be told she's treating the increasingly menacing questions with a healthy dose of lazy contempt. ]
Mayhap a morbid sense of humor here has different connotations than to what I'm accustomed to in Limsa, but naught in this "Survey" strikes me as particularly relevant. Pray, correct me if I've erred. [ A pause - probably to scroll to the questionable bits - where she clears her throat and recites aloud: ] "Would you rather tear your flesh or cut off a limb to escape from a trap?"
Seven hells... scarcely a fortnight ere the threatening letters arrive? Surely they can do better than that.
FOUR: SCHOOL DAYS
[ Stripping everything of use from an empty shell of a building or ship is nothing new to the Admiral. A strip of cloth here, an empty bottle there... individually worth less than nothing, but combined at least the bare minimum of useful. A little flammable liquid and she'd have a fine defensive weapon to hold in reserve should dire need arise.
Nothing rivaling the stopping power of her muskets of course, but alas, one must needs make do with what one is given.
Tucking the new treasures neatly under one arm, Merlwyb straightens to her full height and carefully picks her way around debris and toppled desks back to the door of the classroom. The faint, echoing clatter of something falling over at a distance gives her pause before stepping out into the hallway - every muscle taut in anticipation, head turned towards the source of the noise as she strains for any hint of someone (or something) that may have snuck into close proximity. The following silence is telling. Well, the Admiral was ever a practical woman. Let the others worry about slamming doors and laughing ghost children; she won't be swayed from scavenging what she can by some paranormal claptrap throwing a tantrum like an Ul'dahn merchant prince.
Unfortunately, she's so intent on pointedly Not Paying Any Particular Attention Whatsoever to what may or may not be ghosts that, in fully committing to exit into the hall, she strides slapbang into whomever else that's exploring the school as well. You'd best be sturdy or quick on your feet. A moving Roegadyn is less prone to simply turn aside as to outright running a body over instead. ]
[Merlwyb isn't the only one on-edge following that bit of noise. Or any noise, in Dustin's case. He's already determined that he's not the only one here, and while he admits that it's likely the source of idle shuffling and shifting debris in the classroom next door is just another hallucination along with the sounds of children playing, it's not something he's going to assume is harmless. He wouldn't assume the hallucinations are harmless, either. Who would? As far as Dustin is concerned, everything in this town is out to kill him, physical or otherwise.]
[That includes its other unwilling inhabitants.]
[So when Merlwyb comes striding around the corner, a very physical entity that Dustin doesn't recognize, he treats her like any other abomination this place would throw at him and leaps into the hall to threaten her. A very short, shaggy-haired man does not make for the most imposing of barriers, but he is brandishing a fire poker and definitely looks fit to stab someone with it.]
I pray one of you know aught of this swiving device.
[The words are spoken as if they tasted foul, a testament to his lack of patience if nothing else.
He honestly doesn't even like using it—machines were not to be trusted, and this one freaking out on him is only validating his opinions. It was bad enough that it won't let him change the typo in his name, but now this... talking, and possibly thinking little annoyance is on the fritz, and he has not the capacity or the patience to deal with it properly.]
It had appeared to be operating well enough—for what little I know of machines—but even I can tell that there is aught amiss with it now. Scant do I know how to use the bloody thing, let alone the wherewithal to fix it.
[There's a growl of frustration.]
If not for the fact abandoning it has proved a fruitless endeavor, that would be my preferred solution, but alas...
4 - action
[Finding rations was indeed on Estinien's list of things he needed to do, but he also was in search of anything that may be used as a weapon. Unfamiliar with schools of this make, he had little idea what he was getting into when he decided to enter the building. There was a sense of foreboding with the darkened halls—a haunting sort of lingering he couldn't quite place. As if something was watching him, while they remained utterly undetected.
It frightened him not, there were worse things to fear than empty dark halls of a building, and most of which he had faced head on before. In fact, it had seemed more on the quiet side than not—until he was rummaging through a room for anything that would prove particularly interesting, or of use.
That was until he heard a far off door slam. In an instant he was at his full height, still and alert. It was not fear that gripped him, no, not even close, but he was wary, for he had thought himself alone. With careful steps, he made his way to the doorway, peering out to see no one at all.]
What in the bloody hells...
[It was a murmur to himself, one that did not go without an answer, whether it was meant for him or not. Soon the sound of children could be hear far off—they were screaming.
Instead of running away like a more cowardly man would have, Estinien followed the shrill sound to its source: a room on the upper level. Without any thought for who—or what—could be in there, he busts the door open with a well placed kick.
No sooner did it open, did the screaming stop, and he was left staring at whomever was inside. With no sight of the children he heard, a scowl crossed his features—not that you could see much of them with his helmet. Said dangerously low:]
[ Guess who has a deceptively light stride and a sass streak a mile wide? Because the Storm Admiral is more than happy to pause a generous distance away, poised with one boot still on the stairs she's ascended from. ]
Frightened away, perhaps. You endear yourself to none by abusing the fixtures.
[ Seriously, kicking open the door? Not friendly. Excessively spiky, scowling elf kicking open the door? Definitely not child-friendly. ]
1 @Oph - text [Having never used a computer, much less a tablet before leaves Ophelia more than a little lost on what is going on.] what is survey
4 - Action In a moment like this, all Ophelia really wants at this point is her blades in hand. Waking up without them has left the heavy metal rebel more than out of sorts. Her hands automatically drop the holster on her jeans as she walks, coming up empty once again.
"One would think demons are present from all the screaming..." She muses trying to settle herself best she can. Ophelia glances over to her traveling partner. "Any guesses on what it could be?"
[Rin stares at the survey and it's questions for a good, long while, honestly not sure what to think of it.
Eventually, she turns out the network for help.]
hey guys what did you get for the question about eating your own body parts/ im stuck on that one.
[That's mostly a joke. But also? She's genuinely not sure to reply to that one - mostly on account of the fact that she doesn't have hands, and as such she sort of needs both of her feet. ]
2. @demilo - video
[No one should have allows Rin to customize her avatar. It's not clear how she did it with the settings available, but she's very intentionally made it into... what appears to be some kind of melting skull, with a mouth that's far too wide and twisted for a skull to naturally have.
She didn't mind the flickering so much - if anything, it matched the surrealist aesthetic she had been going for. The odd voices and terrible advice, though, were... Less appreciated.
Lately, however, it's been doing more than just talking to her. It's been broadcasting things over the network. Footage of her sleeping gets streamed over the network for hours - whether she's tossing and turning with nightmares or getting a short reprieve of dreamless sleep, always ending just as her eyelids begin to flicker open.
It's been talking about her, too. Calling her a cripple. Questioning why anyone would help her except out of pity. Telling the network about how she thinks about hurting herself, sometimes. She isn't even sure how the tablet knows that.
The broadcast turns on once more - but Rin isn't asleep this time. She's awake, and it's clear she's been crying.]
You're an awful little meme, you know that?!
[It's not a great insult, but then again... she's never been particularly good with words anyway.
Honestly, she doesn't have the drive to hurt the little avatar, even if she could. She just wants it to stop hurting her.]
Where are you, Rin? [Ophelia's expression is pinched with worry. It is early enough in the day she could make the journey to join the young woman.] I can always stab the glowing screen for you if need be.
Uhm... Okay, so, I thought it would be kind of fun to test out that hollow-friend feature? And I'm pretty sure that might be the worst idea ever, and it might be a tupla so I'm having serious reservations about doing anything else. Is, um, anyone else having any problems with it?
Like, is it maybe telling you to just strip and run outside because if so that's one, not a good idea, and two, also not the correct response to wondering if it's possible to make cinnamon toast crunch with just toast and sugar.
4. action
Okay my highschool experience was not good but that really had nothing on elementary school. Like, uhh, you talk to me when your whole gymnasium is overrun with hob goblins and talking lizards in the middle of what should be your crowning moment of awesome climbing the rope. Like at least the evil that was Sunnydale high was karmically destroyed in the big bad - or, actually I guess everything was kind of destroyed anyway? But it was definitely the most satisfying to see that come down, even if it was really upsetting at the time.
[ Aren't you lucky. This guy said he was a demon hunter - and he is, for sure, in a way - but this whole trip so far has been a rambling meander down memory lane. He knows his stuff maybe, he's survived a bunch of different apocalypses, but everything is kind of messy and it's not great. Andrew stops mid rant, freezing like a startled chicken at the sound of giggling coming off far down the hall. ]
Okay! That is never a good sign! Let's do - Um. Actually, okay, so crazy theory - how about we just whole up in a classroom and snack on trailmix and make some charts on probable causes?
Not going to waste time taking a poll of who's been sent this survey application, since everyone already looks like they're flipping their shit about it.
Post question five.
3
[Dustin isn't sleeping. This isn't unusual, particularly here, especially when he's been forced to spend the night with a relative stranger, and given the circumstances leading up it's hard to find an excuse to close his eyes. The roof collapse was...inconvenient. To him as well as the person it landed on. Probably more to them, if Dustin had to choose, but now that means he's forced to babysit them on the recovery. Dustin is no one's babysitter. He's also not a doctor, which is why he had to get the admin involved. He's not terribly happy about this.]
[On the other hand, distress isn't necessarily what's keeping him awake--because that same situation that's detoured him from planned explorations has opened up a new opportunity to research the admin's methods. He saw a spider pop in the vent. Quick little bastard. If he wasn't preoccupied with this other dumbass then Dustin might've been able to catch it. But he still hears them, scuttling through the drywall that remains. Monitoring? Waiting to follow up with further injections?]
[Well if they can wait, so can Dustin. He creeps around the borders of the still intact bedroom, steps silent, gently rapping the wall with his knuckles and his ear pressed to the side. His movements are erratic and a bit distracted. He's not distracted enough to miss his unexpected guest stirring on the floor at the foot of the bed, where Dustin was just about able to drag and leave their paralyzed body before lockdown. He glances over his shoulder with sharp eyes.]
Don't. Get involved. Just--
[Something, a scratching, maybe his own coat scuffing the paint, jerks Dustin's attention back to the wall. He affixes it with a glare before, rather alarmingly, he reaches around into his backpack's pocket and grabs a small hammer.]
--stay there and don't be a nuisance.
[He raises the hammer and aims it at the drywall.]
[An itch under his skin, since the spiders first showed up. He tracked their movements like he would with any wild animal, listens to their skittering noises, watched - as much as he could - their metal bodies glisten in the half-light of the one candle he managed to light up, having to use a match instead of the Igni sign.
Next to him, his traveling companion is still paralyzed, their leg wound having just been stitched up by the spiders. Spiders. How is it possible? How can they do such a thing? Geralt prides himself in knowing about most creatures that roam the Continent, but he's never seen anything quite like these. They don't - they don't look natural.
Once he can move again, he scratches at his forearm forcefully, the itch impossible to resist, and grabs the fireplace poker he's found in a house just a couple of days ago. He crouches by the vent he's sure he's seen the spiders disappear into; it's like he can still hear them, their metal legs clicking against the metal of the vent. If he could only catch one...
Fitting his poker against the vent, he starts pushing, muscles tensing under his clothes, willing the screws to pop lose. If he can just reach inside...Get a hold of one...]
- Four
[A door slams. Children laugh and scream in turn. Geralt turns around sharply, brandishing the piece of metal he's using as a poor excuse for a sword - Geralt never thought he'd miss having Hattori around, but here he is. There is nothing in front of him.]
Who goes here?
[Missing his senses is making seeing in the dim light difficult, and he can't focus on anything like he should be able to; nothing stands out to him, even when he regulates his breathing and tries to empty his mind from interfering thoughts. Nothing is happening, like his sense suddenly abandoned him, like - he's broken.
He walks forwards some, trying to discern any children in the room he's in. There's no one. Throwing the door open, Geralt jumps out, still holding his weapon out in one hand, but - nothing.
Faintly, in the distance, music starts playing. Is it a wraith? Geralt has absolutely nothing on him to work for bait for any kind of beast. Maybe it's just someone playing a prank.]
[Paralysis is a strange, foreign feeling and one Ciri immediately decides she doesn't like. It's not like she has a choice, though. She's stunned and still whether she cares for it or not and the spiders are hard at work.
It's disturbing to see, given how unnatural they are, but it's also a strange blessing of sorts. Her leg is being patched up before her eyes, in a way she'd never thought possible. As the spiders start to leave, Ciri takes notice of the path they take and then, of her comrade trying to follow.
A moment passes before the paralysis wears off enough to let her speak.]
Geralt? What are you doing?
[Her words are whispered, as though she's wary of being overheard.]
if i get really hungry do i really have to eat someone else
THREE Do you hear that? They're still there. [Pausing, Emily tilts her head to listen. Then she cups her ears and holds her breath for several seconds. She shushes you if you walk or talk, forcing you to listen for at least a moment.]
Where do you think they went? They sound like the rats in Dunwall. You can hear them in the walls. Sometimes, they talk to you. They whisper. It sounds like chittering, but it's talking.
FOUR [Perhaps the school is a little tear in the world. A thinner portion of veil that lets things in, lets things out. Emily recognizes the suffocating, brushing feeling that touches the skin on the back of the neck, near the elbow, on the jaw. This happens in Dunwall, too.
This happens in her dreams of the Void.
She likes to call it magic, but it's a bit more sinister than mere magic. The opening and closing doors in the distance, the creak of the walls, the laughter and giggling, the pound of small feet on the ground--it's a bit more sinister than pulling bunnies out of a hat.] I don't like this school very much. [She has never been to a school, but she has asked you what a school was, what it was for.]
Royce tries to speak up, but she shushes him, which makes him scowl. Still, he doesn't say anything, not until she's finished. ] Does it matter where they went? They're not here.
[ He's long past any sort of illusion that he can stop outside forces from fucking with them. ]
I am completing the survey, yes... but I admit that at this point is just out of mere curiosity to see how morbid the questions can be. After question twenty-two they start to get... worse.
I wonder if they're the same fo everyone or if somehow they are personalized to touch the things that make one cringe.
"If you had to chose between the two, would you eat your hands or your feet to stave off the hunger?"
[The question is followed by an amused snort from the man doing the reading and if he was visible, there would be a grin curving his lips as he shook his head at the tablet.]
Start with the digits. Conserve the resources you have until you can find someone else.
[And then utilize them. Made sense to him, at least.]
Is anyone else curious as to why the admin seems so interested in knowing these answers? Such oddly specific questions. I would hate to see anyone actually have to eat their own hands or feet.
[His tone says otherwise.]
|| Three ||
[He may have been immobile but he'd been able to track those odd little robotic creatures; he'd been able to see exactly where they went. The fact that he had been the ultimate cause of his companion's injury with the dull knife he'd acquired along the way was just a minor detail--it had been for the good of discovery. Their injury could potentially help everyone here.
And it wasn't like he had killed them. Calvin had actually restrained himself. Nice of him, right?
As soon as he could move again the doctor was up and approaching the walls, tugging at one of the vent coverings before he presses his ear against the wall itself. They're there, he can hear them. That has to be them. What else could it be?
Calvin backs away then, a grin pulling at his lips as he glances around for something he can use before his gaze lands on his companion. The grin widens and he motions towards the wall a bit dramatically.]
What do you say to a little reconstruction? The admin shouldn't mind too much, right? I mean, those robots have to get in and out somehow so why can't we?
Hey out there, ladies and gentlemen. Had a little question for ya. Does anyone happen to know what an 'ex acto' is? I need to answer whether I'd rather have that or a screwdriver shoved up my nose, and seein' as how I already know what a screwdriver is, I figure I'd better give the other option its equal weight, you know? Just seems fair.
[He says this as if it's the most mundane query in the world. Business as usual. He seems to be taking this 'survey' quite seriously, and he is. He's already gone through quite a bit of it: he rated his experience as a solid 7, implied that service could be a little more prompt, decided he'd rather eat his hands, and when asked 'are you sure you're not the only one still alive', he responded without hesitation: of course he is.
[If you can get over the fact that the young boy looks nothing even close to human, he sounds pleasant--even a bit timid. There's a sort of anxious strain to his expression, but he smiles anyway.]
Does anyone know how to disable the, um, tablet helpers? I never set one up...but it sort of decided to start talking on its own.
[And let me tell you, the smiling golden flower is not exactly his idea of a friendly and fun assistant.]
One | Your Cooperation is Appreciated @RHawkeye; Video
[Sorry to everyone who prefers the text function; Hawkeye is still a bit too befuddled by the typing on the tablets to be bothered. The sniper is staring at the tablet, a small frown on her face, brows slightly furrowed. Her hair, previously clipped up and out of her face, is now down in an attempt to keep herself just that much warmer. She hates the cold.]
While I understand it is necessary to cooperate with Admin, I am not sure I see the purpose behind these questions. [There's tapping on the device as she clicks her way through, eventually finding her way back to the survey.] "How would you prefer to die: being shot, or burned alive?"
As our cooperation is merely appreciated, I believe I'm going to leave this survey blank.
Three | Spiders In the Walls
[She doesn't call for help unless it is truly and desperately needed, and certainly not from this unknown Admin figure--a figure whom she is still unsure she can trust. But it was either asking them for help or permitting her traveling companion to bleed to death, and while Hawkeye knew more than her share of first aid an injury such as that was far beyond her scope.
As the paralysis wore off, her gaze trailed over the path she was certain the last spider had taken, skittering across the floor and up the wall towards a shattered beam. In the walls, she heard tapping, the quiet movement of legs, and she knew without a doubt it had to be the spiders. And if she could catch one--
Normally rational, she was on her feet and then climbing onto a badly water-damaged chair. She grabbed on to the beam, splinters digging into her hand and drawing blood. But as she climbed closer to what she now saw was a vent, she was sure the mechanical tapping, the steps of the spiders was louder.
She had to catch one.]
Are you all right? Those spiders--if we can catch one-- [Hawkeye whirled around, nearly tipping the chair in the process, her eyes wide.] Can you help?
[He's still ridiculously jealous that she managed to input her username without any of the mistakes that plagued him when he first came up against this technology. But at the same time he's not surprised, she has always been extremely competent.]
I don't think I want to answer either.
[Al is fully behind this plan of no creepy surveys.]
What kind of person needs to know the answer to these questions?
@heartbreaker, video [ Nina is thoroughly exasperated by her tablet, at the moment, and she's sort of shaking it angrily as she speaks to it. Sorry about that motion sickness. ] I don't find it very funny that this communication device keeps telling me that body heat will keep me warmer than a jacket will! It just suggested that I put my feet in the snow so that all of the heat in my feet will travel up into the rest of my body, and I know that isn't how it works. How do I make it stop doing this?
[THREE]
[ Nina will get to those spiders in a second. First, she's going to marvel at the way that they healed the wound she'd had. Nina is used to being able to fix these things for herself, but after having been here for a while without her abilities, she knows she'd be rusty. And she knows also that she'd never be able to do this same sort of healing efficiently. She's really impressed, and - well, look, whoever her partner is, they're going to get an earful about it. ]
Did you see that? That was incredible, it was... it was just like... [ She trails off. ] Where did they go? [ She stands up, adjusting her coat and immediately going to listen to the walls. ] How did you call them? Do they always come? Are they always in the walls like that? And why spiders, that seems like a strange choice.
No, really, Natasha would prefer that Nina try to relax a little, because she's still not sure how these spiders work, and she doesn't trust that it won't have side effects. Beyond being paralyzed, of course.]
I sent a message to the Administrator asking for medical assistance. It looks like they went into the vents.
[honestly, they think the survey is kind of humorous.
what's less funny is suddenly waking up in what feels like your old body, in what feels almost like having a soul, but hey. that's way less of a problem than being alone. alone for the first time in what feels like hundreds of years. hell, it may be.
their voice is that of a child; high-pitched and trying far too hard to sound mature, formal. it's cold, and that's the only part that seems natural.]
Greetings. Does anyone have any information as to the nature of this survey that I've been tasked with answering? Namely; who needs to know this, and what for?
[They should have realized this could be a possibility. They really should have. But they didn't and now... Well. Here they are. With nothing to do but keep going.]
I dunno. I got it too. Maybe everybody did.
[Probably no need to introduce themselves. They'll know who it is.]
[Wilson tests out his hand, flexing his fingers in suspicious amazement. Good as new. No pain, no scar, no nothing. In his experience, when a hand gets crushed like that, you just, well, you don't have a hand anymore. Not that he's complaining; he's glad to have all of his digits in working order again, but...]
This doesn't make sense. [He's still transfixed by his lack of horrible injury, but his companion has been similarly healed. Suddenly, Wilson stands up, shaking out his arm like he's testing whether or not his new hand will stay attached.] This isn't... It's just not possible. This goes beyond--well beyond--medical miracle or whatever you'd like to call it. Even the most advanced surgical robots aren't capable of this kind of work. Not even... [He blows out a puff of air.] Not even close.
[He does a quick survey of the room. Where exactly do those little spiders come from, anyway? And how do those tiny things replace a whole body part like that? He squints at the base of the walls, looking for any kind of small hole or crack that they might have slipped into.] We need to get to the bottom of this. I don't trust those things, hand or no hand. [He wiggles his fingers at his companion.]
Yeah, welcome to my world for the past three months.
[House rolls his eyes, knowing how this is going to go. It they could catch one of those goddamn spiders...]
Got any sticky tape? We could cut off a finger, see if one runs out. I mean, it'd be a bitch if they got caught before you were healed. But all in the name of science, right?
[The video features a woman with orange-tinted goggles perfect for the current elements, the rim of which is covered in ice and snow. The woman herself is looking surprisingly upbeat given the circumstances, if a bit snow-covered and flushed.]
Hello, all-- Lena here! Sorry to be a bother, but I've run into a bit of a problem. Guessing you all got the same survey, so i don't have to get you up to speed.
[She almost chuckles at that, like it's part of a private joke she's got with herself. Although the ghost of that near-laughter lingers, her brow furrows as she continues with the topic at hand.]
I just don't know what to make of these questions. A little grim don't you think? And specific! What have you lot come up with? I'd love to hear! Till then, cheers!
THREE
[If there's one thing Lena is incapable of doing, it's remaining idle. The second her teammate is down she calls the admin, whether that's guaranteed to get results or not. It's always worth it if it means there's a chance. And there's no way she would ever let a team member die on her watch.
The spiders were certainly a surprise, but they make quick work of her companion. As quickly as they had arrived they skittered off, up the far wall and directly into the vent. The moment they're away from her teammate, however, she returns to holding them-- assessing them herself to make sure they're alright. Frighteningly enough, they are. Just what are these things? All she can do is stare at the last place she saw them, awestruck and confused. It's frustrating, this situation they're in continuously brings up more questions than it has answers to them.
Her hands grip her travelling partner while she considers how to proceed. After a moment, she speaks softly to them--]
I'll be just over here. Hold tight.
[Gently she sets them down to tread over to the wall. Her hand traces lightly against it as, slowly, she leans an ear as close as she can to it. The sound of the spiders is still lingering within the walls. But why? She eyes the vent. That curiosity isn't going to go away with just the knowledge of where the buggers are-- she needs to find out what they're for.]
Whoever designed these things has the design sense of a five year old.
[A five-year-old from a horror movie. He decides that saying so might invite too much trouble, though. Considering.]
My virtual navigator is possessed. You'll probably want to disregard any messages that seem off coming from me. You'll know which ones.
3 - action
[The initial injury was an accident. He'd gotten caught in the high snow and didn't see the hidden drop in the actual ground. He had barely managed to make it inside, primarily thanks to the help of his now companion, and the spiders had done their work. But now he's sitting in the corner, staring at the walls of the building where the robots are supposedly residing.]
My kingdom for a power source.
[He's healed, but still seems unsteady, and he may or may not be talking to his fellow companion as he searches the interior of the building for something sharp. Maybe even on the person that he's with. Don't worry, he's not going to pat them down.]
Oh, well, we'll just have to improvise around it. They aren't that big. We can trap them without blasting them first. You don't mind a little blood, right?
[He says that conversationally, like this were a question he could ask any casual passerby on the street. Maybe he's not quite as recovered as he looks.]
design sense or sense of humor? and possession's about par for the course here, bro be careful when you're talking to it don't want to upset the ai feefees or you'll have angelcakes yelling at you
[The tablet is on, and it's upside down and currently giving a lovely image of the wood-and-dirt covered floor. Something is tapping, the screen jerking, as if the device is being...manhandled.]
You--piece of junk-- [The tablet beeps, and audible over the network is a mechanical voice:] I'm sorry. I don't understand your command. Please say a command.
Shut up. Turn off. Go away. No help avatar. No help avatar! [The speaker's voice is male, confirmed by when the tablet is abruptly turned around to reveal a young male, brows furrowed and glaring daggers at the device.] Shi--when did the video get turned on?
I'm sorry. I don't understand your command. Please say a command.
[The expression of the man on the video feed screams that he's been working at his for a while.] I can assist in major neurological surgery but I can't work a tablet. Great.
[Before their companion is even fully cognizant, Hange is scrambling up and over to the nearest wall.]
Shhhh... ! [No one's even talking, but they're being dramatically shushed anyway, finger to lips and everything. Looking like something out of a heist movie, Hange stares intently into space, ear pressed firmly to the wall.] I can hear you in there...
[Without warning, Hange suddenly steps back. Grasping with the tips of their fingers, Hange tries to haul themself up the wall using an open vent duct as a hand-hold. Boots squeaking against the paint, they manage to get halfway up, arm wedged into the vent, fishing around blindly.]
Come here, little spider things! I just need one of you for an experiment! Two would be even better, though! Just... come here... please...
[Charlie stands up groggily, shaking off whatever that weird paralysis stuff is. He rolls his jaw a couple of times. Huh. Check it out, he's got all of his teeth again. Sweet.
But then he sees Hange slithering up the wall like some weird horror monster and, goddammit dude get your hands out of there.]
For the love of... Man, c'mon. [He trucks on over there, grabs Hange around the waist, and pulls them off of the wall.]
Gonna have to do better'n that if you wanna get your hands on one of those things. They're fast as fuck and really wily.
[ The camera feed shows black fur covering half the screen, pressed directly into the lens. The rest is a joggling view of ceiling and wall, somewhere in the school. A mechanical voice speaks first: ]
Turn left, then take the second doorway on the right.
[ There's a huffing noise, something small but very close to the speaker. The tablet is laid on the ground, and a black cat's face comes into view. It has the most remarkable purple eyes, and instead of meowing speaks in perfectly understandable, slightly British English. ]
Stop that.
4
The cat creeps through the school, keeping to the walls and hiding in shadows. It doesn't do much good, but it's instinct, and that makes it somewhat calming at least.
The sound of running feet fills the hall and he turns a corner. Mistaking the mortal in his path for a ghost, he hisses and arches his back. He may be small, but his claws are sharp and he is willing to fight.
*He doesn't notice the cat at first. Its been so long since he's seen any animals (except Mochi, but he still wasn't sure what to make of that cat) he doesn't even think to look so low for one. But the hissing definitely catches his attention and he spins to face the cat, tensing up as he does so.
This cat looks much less friendly than the other one. Is it also a prisoner here or some sort of anomaly? He doesn't know, but he's not going to take his chances. Keeping an eye on the feline he opens his bag and digs inside. He should be able to get his knife before it gets to him.*
Dale Cooper | Twin Peaks
Diane, make a note: Building just west of the grocery store is... Wait, Diane? No, don't post this to the network. Diane, make a note. No, make a note. And quit flickering like that, please. It's quite distracting. Diane? Diane?
[Cooper sighs, unable to get his little avatar to cooperate. How strange. Well, if she's already opened up a line to the network, he may as well make use of it.]
If you can hear this, I suppose that means my computer is on the fritz. The voice-activated avatar seems to be misbehaving. Would anyone out there be so kind as to help me get to the bottom of this issue? It's very important that I restore this program to working order.
Thank you very much.
Sincerely,
Agent Dale Cooper
2 - @QA - text
So why did you?
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Natasha Romanov | Marvel 616
[It was a close call, and Natasha isn't a fan of asking the Admin for help, especially not when that help comes in the form of little robospiders she knows nothing about, but it was that or let her traveling partner die, so the choice was obvious. She's letting them rest now, keeping watch just in case. They might be locked in for the night, but Natasha still doesn't know what the rules are here, so she's in strict survival mode. Trust nothing.
Like those spiders. They went back into the vents, she thinks. It was hard to tell when she was paralyzed, her gaze fixed up at the ceiling, but that's where it seemed like they were going. Now, she almost thinks she can hear them moving around in the walls. The sound is so faint that she can't be sure, really. It could be the wind, or any number of a million things, but... Maybe the spiders are part of the surveillance system? The tablets certainly are, but if she can get her hand on one of those spiders, it might be easier to break open. There's a chance she could figure out what they are, exactly, or at least get an idea of how they work.
After a few silent moments, Natasha stands up, grabbing the sharpened bit of rubble she's been using as a makeshift knife. She drags a table over to one of the walls and hops up on top of it, reaching up to get at one of the vents near the ceiling, and starts to work at the screws. She can't get them to turn, so she gives up on that, prying at the edge of the vent with her shiv. There's something off about her movements—she's usually so careful, but now, she doesn't even seem to notice that the edges of the metal are cutting into her palm, and there's blood slowly welling in her hand and then drip, drip, dripping down her arm and onto the table.]
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Natasha, holy crap. Surprise of his life running into her like that. Good thing, too, his memory after the blast is pretty fuzzy but she almost definitely saved his life.]
Natasha...
[He started to smile but his smile rapidly fades. She's bleeding. He pushes himself to his feet and hurries over to her.]
Nat, the hell are you doing, you're hurting yourself! [He reaches to wrap a hand around her wrist to try to stop her.]
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hey cutie
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Motel Kamzoil | Fiddler on the Roof
[This 'survey' is seeming more and more terrifying with each question. Does he really need to answer these? He comes to a question that he can't answer. A question about home, a question about the people he cares for and whom he'd kill to save Tzeitel.]
Is there anyone else taking this... list of questions? Has anyone finished it? [There might be the tiniest whine of distress in his voice.] It says it appreciates my cooperation. Are we meant to cooperate with all of it?
Four
[Color Motel entirely spooked. Children scream, and he turns sharply, eyes wide and body poised to sprint away. That's precisely what he does when a door slams almost directly next to him. He's a decent runner, he can escape! Except... well, when he rounds a corner, it's right into someone else.
Motel yelps and grasps for the person, half to keep them up, and half to brace himself.]
I'm sorry!
four
Perhaps you ought to think about escaping this place. I don't think it's good for you. Psychologically speaking.
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IS THIS REAL LIFE
ABSOLUTELY
I'm so happy
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One; @fenrir; audio;
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Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn | FFXIV: A Realm Reborn
FOUR: SCHOOL DAYS
4
[That includes its other unwilling inhabitants.]
[So when Merlwyb comes striding around the corner, a very physical entity that Dustin doesn't recognize, he treats her like any other abomination this place would throw at him and leaps into the hall to threaten her. A very short, shaggy-haired man does not make for the most imposing of barriers, but he is brandishing a fire poker and definitely looks fit to stab someone with it.]
Back off! Arm's length, not a step closer.
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Estinien Wyrmblood | Final Fantasy XIV
I pray one of you know aught of this swiving device.
[The words are spoken as if they tasted foul, a testament to his lack of patience if nothing else.
He honestly doesn't even like using it—machines were not to be trusted, and this one freaking out on him is only validating his opinions. It was bad enough that it won't let him change the typo in his name, but now this... talking, and possibly thinking little annoyance is on the fritz, and he has not the capacity or the patience to deal with it properly.]
It had appeared to be operating well enough—for what little I know of machines—but even I can tell that there is aught amiss with it now. Scant do I know how to use the bloody thing, let alone the wherewithal to fix it.
[There's a growl of frustration.]
If not for the fact abandoning it has proved a fruitless endeavor, that would be my preferred solution, but alas...
4 - action
[Finding rations was indeed on Estinien's list of things he needed to do, but he also was in search of anything that may be used as a weapon. Unfamiliar with schools of this make, he had little idea what he was getting into when he decided to enter the building. There was a sense of foreboding with the darkened halls—a haunting sort of lingering he couldn't quite place. As if something was watching him, while they remained utterly undetected.
It frightened him not, there were worse things to fear than empty dark halls of a building, and most of which he had faced head on before. In fact, it had seemed more on the quiet side than not—until he was rummaging through a room for anything that would prove particularly interesting, or of use.
That was until he heard a far off door slam. In an instant he was at his full height, still and alert. It was not fear that gripped him, no, not even close, but he was wary, for he had thought himself alone. With careful steps, he made his way to the doorway, peering out to see no one at all.]
What in the bloody hells...
[It was a murmur to himself, one that did not go without an answer, whether it was meant for him or not. Soon the sound of children could be hear far off—they were screaming.
Instead of running away like a more cowardly man would have, Estinien followed the shrill sound to its source: a room on the upper level. Without any thought for who—or what—could be in there, he busts the door open with a well placed kick.
No sooner did it open, did the screaming stop, and he was left staring at whomever was inside. With no sight of the children he heard, a scowl crossed his features—not that you could see much of them with his helmet. Said dangerously low:]
Where are they?
4
Frightened away, perhaps. You endear yourself to none by abusing the fixtures.
[ Seriously, kicking open the door? Not friendly. Excessively spiky, scowling elf kicking open the door? Definitely not child-friendly. ]
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Ophelia - Brutal Legend
[Having never used a computer, much less a tablet before leaves Ophelia more than a little lost on what is going on.]
what is survey
4 - Action
In a moment like this, all Ophelia really wants at this point is her blades in hand. Waking up without them has left the heavy metal rebel more than out of sorts. Her hands automatically drop the holster on her jeans as she walks, coming up empty once again.
"One would think demons are present from all the screaming..." She muses trying to settle herself best she can. Ophelia glances over to her traveling partner. "Any guesses on what it could be?"
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Rin Tezuka | Katawa Shoujo (cw: mentions of self-harm)
[Rin stares at the survey and it's questions for a good, long while, honestly not sure what to think of it.
Eventually, she turns out the network for help.]
hey guys what did you get for the question about eating your own body parts/ im stuck on that one.
[That's mostly a joke. But also? She's genuinely not sure to reply to that one - mostly on account of the fact that she doesn't have hands, and as such she sort of needs both of her feet. ]
2. @demilo - video
[No one should have allows Rin to customize her avatar. It's not clear how she did it with the settings available, but she's very intentionally made it into... what appears to be some kind of melting skull, with a mouth that's far too wide and twisted for a skull to naturally have.
She didn't mind the flickering so much - if anything, it matched the surrealist aesthetic she had been going for. The odd voices and terrible advice, though, were... Less appreciated.
Lately, however, it's been doing more than just talking to her. It's been broadcasting things over the network. Footage of her sleeping gets streamed over the network for hours - whether she's tossing and turning with nightmares or getting a short reprieve of dreamless sleep, always ending just as her eyelids begin to flicker open.
It's been talking about her, too. Calling her a cripple. Questioning why anyone would help her except out of pity. Telling the network about how she thinks about hurting herself, sometimes. She isn't even sure how the tablet knows that.
The broadcast turns on once more - but Rin isn't asleep this time. She's awake, and it's clear she's been crying.]
You're an awful little meme, you know that?!
[It's not a great insult, but then again... she's never been particularly good with words anyway.
Honestly, she doesn't have the drive to hurt the little avatar, even if she could. She just wants it to stop hurting her.]
2
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2; @mlaurin2; video
andrew wells | btvs
Uhm... Okay, so, I thought it would be kind of fun to test out that hollow-friend feature? And I'm pretty sure that might be the worst idea ever, and it might be a tupla so I'm having serious reservations about doing anything else. Is, um, anyone else having any problems with it?
Like, is it maybe telling you to just strip and run outside because if so that's one, not a good idea, and two, also not the correct response to wondering if it's possible to make cinnamon toast crunch with just toast and sugar.
4. action
Okay my highschool experience was not good but that really had nothing on elementary school. Like, uhh, you talk to me when your whole gymnasium is overrun with hob goblins and talking lizards in the middle of what should be your crowning moment of awesome climbing the rope. Like at least the evil that was Sunnydale high was karmically destroyed in the big bad - or, actually I guess everything was kind of destroyed anyway? But it was definitely the most satisfying to see that come down, even if it was really upsetting at the time.
[ Aren't you lucky. This guy said he was a demon hunter - and he is, for sure, in a way - but this whole trip so far has been a rambling meander down memory lane. He knows his stuff maybe, he's survived a bunch of different apocalypses, but everything is kind of messy and it's not great. Andrew stops mid rant, freezing like a startled chicken at the sound of giggling coming off far down the hall. ]
Okay! That is never a good sign! Let's do - Um. Actually, okay, so crazy theory - how about we just whole up in a classroom and snack on trailmix and make some charts on probable causes?
Two; @fenri; audio;
[Because obviously, that's the important thing to be gained from this entire thing.]
4
Dustin Silver | OC
Not going to waste time taking a poll of who's been sent this survey application, since everyone already looks like they're flipping their shit about it.
Post question five.
3
[Dustin isn't sleeping. This isn't unusual, particularly here, especially when he's been forced to spend the night with a relative stranger, and given the circumstances leading up it's hard to find an excuse to close his eyes. The roof collapse was...inconvenient. To him as well as the person it landed on. Probably more to them, if Dustin had to choose, but now that means he's forced to babysit them on the recovery. Dustin is no one's babysitter. He's also not a doctor, which is why he had to get the admin involved. He's not terribly happy about this.]
[On the other hand, distress isn't necessarily what's keeping him awake--because that same situation that's detoured him from planned explorations has opened up a new opportunity to research the admin's methods. He saw a spider pop in the vent. Quick little bastard. If he wasn't preoccupied with this other dumbass then Dustin might've been able to catch it. But he still hears them, scuttling through the drywall that remains. Monitoring? Waiting to follow up with further injections?]
[Well if they can wait, so can Dustin. He creeps around the borders of the still intact bedroom, steps silent, gently rapping the wall with his knuckles and his ear pressed to the side. His movements are erratic and a bit distracted. He's not distracted enough to miss his unexpected guest stirring on the floor at the foot of the bed, where Dustin was just about able to drag and leave their paralyzed body before lockdown. He glances over his shoulder with sharp eyes.]
Don't. Get involved. Just--
[Something, a scratching, maybe his own coat scuffing the paint, jerks Dustin's attention back to the wall. He affixes it with a glare before, rather alarmingly, he reaches around into his backpack's pocket and grabs a small hammer.]
--stay there and don't be a nuisance.
[He raises the hammer and aims it at the drywall.]
@tentacleTherapist
Question five: please describe, in as much detail as possible, the last truly terrifying nightmare you experienced.
But here's a better question: did you answer the survey honestly, QA?
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Geralt Of Rivia | The Witcher 3
[An itch under his skin, since the spiders first showed up. He tracked their movements like he would with any wild animal, listens to their skittering noises, watched - as much as he could - their metal bodies glisten in the half-light of the one candle he managed to light up, having to use a match instead of the Igni sign.
Next to him, his traveling companion is still paralyzed, their leg wound having just been stitched up by the spiders. Spiders. How is it possible? How can they do such a thing? Geralt prides himself in knowing about most creatures that roam the Continent, but he's never seen anything quite like these. They don't - they don't look natural.
Once he can move again, he scratches at his forearm forcefully, the itch impossible to resist, and grabs the fireplace poker he's found in a house just a couple of days ago. He crouches by the vent he's sure he's seen the spiders disappear into; it's like he can still hear them, their metal legs clicking against the metal of the vent. If he could only catch one...
Fitting his poker against the vent, he starts pushing, muscles tensing under his clothes, willing the screws to pop lose. If he can just reach inside...Get a hold of one...]
-
Four
[A door slams. Children laugh and scream in turn. Geralt turns around sharply, brandishing the piece of metal he's using as a poor excuse for a sword - Geralt never thought he'd miss having Hattori around, but here he is. There is nothing in front of him.]
Who goes here?
[Missing his senses is making seeing in the dim light difficult, and he can't focus on anything like he should be able to; nothing stands out to him, even when he regulates his breathing and tries to empty his mind from interfering thoughts. Nothing is happening, like his sense suddenly abandoned him, like - he's broken.
He walks forwards some, trying to discern any children in the room he's in. There's no one. Throwing the door open, Geralt jumps out, still holding his weapon out in one hand, but - nothing.
Faintly, in the distance, music starts playing. Is it a wraith? Geralt has absolutely nothing on him to work for bait for any kind of beast. Maybe it's just someone playing a prank.]
Come out, come out, wherever you are...
three
It's disturbing to see, given how unnatural they are, but it's also a strange blessing of sorts. Her leg is being patched up before her eyes, in a way she'd never thought possible. As the spiders start to leave, Ciri takes notice of the path they take and then, of her comrade trying to follow.
A moment passes before the paralysis wears off enough to let her speak.]
Geralt? What are you doing?
[Her words are whispered, as though she's wary of being overheard.]
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Emily Kaldwin | Dishonored
prompt three, motherfucker
Royce tries to speak up, but she shushes him, which makes him scowl. Still, he doesn't say anything, not until she's finished. ] Does it matter where they went? They're not here.
[ He's long past any sort of illusion that he can stop outside forces from fucking with them. ]
smh
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1, @lockhart; text; HEY ASSHOLE
[annoying dog emote]
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one; @mlaurin2, text
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@heartbreaker, audio (prompt one)
SCREAMS also laughs the name
:D
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Link (the first one) | The Legend of Zelda
On a scale of one to ten I would rate my stay below a one. Curious that anyone would bother to ask.
Now, whether or not I would prefer to be eaten by a monster or burned alive... This, I think, is a more reasonable question for this place.
Has anyone actually filled out answers to all of these? I've started but knowing what Norfinbury is like is giving me pause.
four;
[Link digs through his pack and jumps slightly when he hears a door slam shut somewhere out in the distance.]
Everyone get behind me....
We might not be alone....
Suddenly, I have feels.
@Rdua, Voice
I am completing the survey, yes... but I admit that at this point is just out of mere curiosity to see how morbid the questions can be. After question twenty-two they start to get... worse.
I wonder if they're the same fo everyone or if somehow they are personalized to touch the things that make one cringe.
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@RHawkeye, Audio
Calvin Zabo | Agents of SHIELD
"If you had to chose between the two, would you eat your hands or your feet to stave off the hunger?"
[The question is followed by an amused snort from the man doing the reading and if he was visible, there would be a grin curving his lips as he shook his head at the tablet.]
Start with the digits. Conserve the resources you have until you can find someone else.
[And then utilize them. Made sense to him, at least.]
Is anyone else curious as to why the admin seems so interested in knowing these answers? Such oddly specific questions. I would hate to see anyone actually have to eat their own hands or feet.
[His tone says otherwise.]
|| Three ||
[He may have been immobile but he'd been able to track those odd little robotic creatures; he'd been able to see exactly where they went. The fact that he had been the ultimate cause of his companion's injury with the dull knife he'd acquired along the way was just a minor detail--it had been for the good of discovery. Their injury could potentially help everyone here.
And it wasn't like he had killed them. Calvin had actually restrained himself. Nice of him, right?
As soon as he could move again the doctor was up and approaching the walls, tugging at one of the vent coverings before he presses his ear against the wall itself. They're there, he can hear them. That has to be them. What else could it be?
Calvin backs away then, a grin pulling at his lips as he glances around for something he can use before his gaze lands on his companion. The grin widens and he motions towards the wall a bit dramatically.]
What do you say to a little reconstruction? The admin shouldn't mind too much, right? I mean, those robots have to get in and out somehow so why can't we?
@ASolomons; audio
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Claire Stanfield | Baccano!
@ticketsplease; video
Hey out there, ladies and gentlemen. Had a little question for ya. Does anyone happen to know what an 'ex acto' is? I need to answer whether I'd rather have that or a screwdriver shoved up my nose, and seein' as how I already know what a screwdriver is, I figure I'd better give the other option its equal weight, you know? Just seems fair.
[He says this as if it's the most mundane query in the world. Business as usual. He seems to be taking this 'survey' quite seriously, and he is. He's already gone through quite a bit of it: he rated his experience as a solid 7, implied that service could be a little more prompt, decided he'd rather eat his hands, and when asked 'are you sure you're not the only one still alive', he responded without hesitation: of course he is.
The only one still alive, he means.]
@ASolomons; audio
[He hadn't known off the top of his head either, but had asked somebody he's currently traveling with.]
I'd go with the screwdriver, myself. Personally.
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@missrella; video
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@RHawkeye, Audio
omg HAWKEYE also sorry this took so long
@jewilson; text
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Asriel Dreemurr | Undertale
Howdy.
[If you can get over the fact that the young boy looks nothing even close to human, he sounds pleasant--even a bit timid. There's a sort of anxious strain to his expression, but he smiles anyway.]
Does anyone know how to disable the, um, tablet helpers? I never set one up...but it sort of decided to start talking on its own.
[And let me tell you, the smiling golden flower is not exactly his idea of a friendly and fun assistant.]
1/? how dare u
2/?
3/?
4/?
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@determination, video
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@COOLSKELETON95; voice
Riza Hawkeye | Fullmetal Alchemist
[Sorry to everyone who prefers the text function; Hawkeye is still a bit too befuddled by the typing on the tablets to be bothered. The sniper is staring at the tablet, a small frown on her face, brows slightly furrowed. Her hair, previously clipped up and out of her face, is now down in an attempt to keep herself just that much warmer. She hates the cold.]
While I understand it is necessary to cooperate with Admin, I am not sure I see the purpose behind these questions. [There's tapping on the device as she clicks her way through, eventually finding her way back to the survey.] "How would you prefer to die: being shot, or burned alive?"
As our cooperation is merely appreciated, I believe I'm going to leave this survey blank.
Three | Spiders In the Walls
[She doesn't call for help unless it is truly and desperately needed, and certainly not from this unknown Admin figure--a figure whom she is still unsure she can trust. But it was either asking them for help or permitting her traveling companion to bleed to death, and while Hawkeye knew more than her share of first aid an injury such as that was far beyond her scope.
As the paralysis wore off, her gaze trailed over the path she was certain the last spider had taken, skittering across the floor and up the wall towards a shattered beam. In the walls, she heard tapping, the quiet movement of legs, and she knew without a doubt it had to be the spiders. And if she could catch one--
Normally rational, she was on her feet and then climbing onto a badly water-damaged chair. She grabbed on to the beam, splinters digging into her hand and drawing blood. But as she climbed closer to what she now saw was a vent, she was sure the mechanical tapping, the steps of the spiders was louder.
She had to catch one.]
Are you all right? Those spiders--if we can catch one-- [Hawkeye whirled around, nearly tipping the chair in the process, her eyes wide.] Can you help?
one;
I don't think I want to answer either.
[Al is fully behind this plan of no creepy surveys.]
What kind of person needs to know the answer to these questions?
one;
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1; decided to hit you up with this guy instead of shiro, sorry for the delay!
o7 cool beans! I am very late ;-;
no worries!
Nina Zenik | Six of Crows
@heartbreaker, video
[ Nina is thoroughly exasperated by her tablet, at the moment, and she's sort of shaking it angrily as she speaks to it. Sorry about that motion sickness. ] I don't find it very funny that this communication device keeps telling me that body heat will keep me warmer than a jacket will! It just suggested that I put my feet in the snow so that all of the heat in my feet will travel up into the rest of my body, and I know that isn't how it works. How do I make it stop doing this?
[THREE]
[ Nina will get to those spiders in a second. First, she's going to marvel at the way that they healed the wound she'd had. Nina is used to being able to fix these things for herself, but after having been here for a while without her abilities, she knows she'd be rusty. And she knows also that she'd never be able to do this same sort of healing efficiently. She's really impressed, and - well, look, whoever her partner is, they're going to get an earful about it. ]
Did you see that? That was incredible, it was... it was just like... [ She trails off. ] Where did they go? [ She stands up, adjusting her coat and immediately going to listen to the walls. ] How did you call them? Do they always come? Are they always in the walls like that? And why spiders, that seems like a strange choice.
3!
No, really, Natasha would prefer that Nina try to relax a little, because she's still not sure how these spiders work, and she doesn't trust that it won't have side effects. Beyond being paralyzed, of course.]
I sent a message to the Administrator asking for medical assistance. It looks like they went into the vents.
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2! @estibien, video
3
Chara Dreemurr | Undertale
[honestly, they think the survey is kind of humorous.
what's less funny is suddenly waking up in what feels like your old body, in what feels almost like having a soul, but hey. that's way less of a problem than being alone. alone for the first time in what feels like hundreds of years. hell, it may be.
their voice is that of a child; high-pitched and trying far too hard to sound mature, formal. it's cold, and that's the only part that seems natural.]
Greetings. Does anyone have any information as to the nature of this survey that I've been tasked with answering? Namely; who needs to know this, and what for?
@determination
I dunno. I got it too. Maybe everybody did.
[Probably no need to introduce themselves. They'll know who it is.]
Are you okay?
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1/?
2/?
3/3 - audio - UNDERTALE SPOILERS
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Dr. James Wilson | House M.D.
[Wilson tests out his hand, flexing his fingers in suspicious amazement. Good as new. No pain, no scar, no nothing. In his experience, when a hand gets crushed like that, you just, well, you don't have a hand anymore. Not that he's complaining; he's glad to have all of his digits in working order again, but...]
This doesn't make sense. [He's still transfixed by his lack of horrible injury, but his companion has been similarly healed. Suddenly, Wilson stands up, shaking out his arm like he's testing whether or not his new hand will stay attached.] This isn't... It's just not possible. This goes beyond--well beyond--medical miracle or whatever you'd like to call it. Even the most advanced surgical robots aren't capable of this kind of work. Not even... [He blows out a puff of air.] Not even close.
[He does a quick survey of the room. Where exactly do those little spiders come from, anyway? And how do those tiny things replace a whole body part like that? He squints at the base of the walls, looking for any kind of small hole or crack that they might have slipped into.] We need to get to the bottom of this. I don't trust those things, hand or no hand. [He wiggles his fingers at his companion.]
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[House rolls his eyes, knowing how this is going to go. It they could catch one of those goddamn spiders...]
Got any sticky tape? We could cut off a finger, see if one runs out. I mean, it'd be a bitch if they got caught before you were healed. But all in the name of science, right?
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Hello~ (it has been so very long please to bear with me ps I have one icon)
OMG FOREMAN it's all good i have nfi what i'm doing either LOL
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lena oxton | overwatch
@tracer
[The video features a woman with orange-tinted goggles perfect for the current elements, the rim of which is covered in ice and snow. The woman herself is looking surprisingly upbeat given the circumstances, if a bit snow-covered and flushed.]
Hello, all-- Lena here! Sorry to be a bother, but I've run into a bit of a problem. Guessing you all got the same survey, so i don't have to get you up to speed.
[She almost chuckles at that, like it's part of a private joke she's got with herself. Although the ghost of that near-laughter lingers, her brow furrows as she continues with the topic at hand.]
I just don't know what to make of these questions. A little grim don't you think? And specific! What have you lot come up with? I'd love to hear! Till then, cheers!
THREE
[If there's one thing Lena is incapable of doing, it's remaining idle. The second her teammate is down she calls the admin, whether that's guaranteed to get results or not. It's always worth it if it means there's a chance. And there's no way she would ever let a team member die on her watch.
The spiders were certainly a surprise, but they make quick work of her companion. As quickly as they had arrived they skittered off, up the far wall and directly into the vent. The moment they're away from her teammate, however, she returns to holding them-- assessing them herself to make sure they're alright. Frighteningly enough, they are. Just what are these things? All she can do is stare at the last place she saw them, awestruck and confused. It's frustrating, this situation they're in continuously brings up more questions than it has answers to them.
Her hands grip her travelling partner while she considers how to proceed. After a moment, she speaks softly to them--]
I'll be just over here. Hold tight.
[Gently she sets them down to tread over to the wall. Her hand traces lightly against it as, slowly, she leans an ear as close as she can to it. The sound of the spiders is still lingering within the walls. But why? She eyes the vent. That curiosity isn't going to go away with just the knowledge of where the buggers are-- she needs to find out what they're for.]
They're in there still, I'm sure of it.
Tony Stark | Marvel 616
Whoever designed these things has the design sense of a five year old.
[A five-year-old from a horror movie. He decides that saying so might invite too much trouble, though. Considering.]
My virtual navigator is possessed. You'll probably want to disregard any messages that seem off coming from me. You'll know which ones.
3 - action
[The initial injury was an accident. He'd gotten caught in the high snow and didn't see the hidden drop in the actual ground. He had barely managed to make it inside, primarily thanks to the help of his now companion, and the spiders had done their work. But now he's sitting in the corner, staring at the walls of the building where the robots are supposedly residing.]
My kingdom for a power source.
[He's healed, but still seems unsteady, and he may or may not be talking to his fellow companion as he searches the interior of the building for something sharp. Maybe even on the person that he's with. Don't worry, he's not going to pat them down.]
Oh, well, we'll just have to improvise around it. They aren't that big. We can trap them without blasting them first. You don't mind a little blood, right?
[He says that conversationally, like this were a question he could ask any casual passerby on the street. Maybe he's not quite as recovered as he looks.]
@hotstud_xxx; text
and possession's about par for the course here, bro
be careful when you're talking to it
don't want to upset the ai feefees or you'll have angelcakes yelling at you
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3!
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2! @enhance, voice
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@Ecks | text
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3; bats lashes
precious child
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@sciencesquad; video (#2!)
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@Fellowman; Two; Video
You--piece of junk-- [The tablet beeps, and audible over the network is a mechanical voice:] I'm sorry. I don't understand your command. Please say a command.
Shut up. Turn off. Go away. No help avatar. No help avatar! [The speaker's voice is male, confirmed by when the tablet is abruptly turned around to reveal a young male, brows furrowed and glaring daggers at the device.] Shi--when did the video get turned on?
I'm sorry. I don't understand your command. Please say a command.
[The expression of the man on the video feed screams that he's been working at his for a while.] I can assist in major neurological surgery but I can't work a tablet. Great.
@hotstud_xxx; text
"no help avatar"?
really?
Text/audio/video/whatever the tablet is freaking out as per prompt
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@v4victory; video
Zoe Hange | Attack on Titan
[Before their companion is even fully cognizant, Hange is scrambling up and over to the nearest wall.]
Shhhh... ! [No one's even talking, but they're being dramatically shushed anyway, finger to lips and everything. Looking like something out of a heist movie, Hange stares intently into space, ear pressed firmly to the wall.] I can hear you in there...
[Without warning, Hange suddenly steps back. Grasping with the tips of their fingers, Hange tries to haul themself up the wall using an open vent duct as a hand-hold. Boots squeaking against the paint, they manage to get halfway up, arm wedged into the vent, fishing around blindly.]
Come here, little spider things! I just need one of you for an experiment! Two would be even better, though! Just... come here... please...
no subject
But then he sees Hange slithering up the wall like some weird horror monster and, goddammit dude get your hands out of there.]
For the love of... Man, c'mon. [He trucks on over there, grabs Hange around the waist, and pulls them off of the wall.]
Gonna have to do better'n that if you wanna get your hands on one of those things. They're fast as fuck and really wily.
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The Cat || Tamora Pierce's Tortall
[ The camera feed shows black fur covering half the screen, pressed directly into the lens. The rest is a joggling view of ceiling and wall, somewhere in the school. A mechanical voice speaks first: ]
Turn left, then take the second doorway on the right.
[ There's a huffing noise, something small but very close to the speaker. The tablet is laid on the ground, and a black cat's face comes into view. It has the most remarkable purple eyes, and instead of meowing speaks in perfectly understandable, slightly British English. ]
Stop that.
4
The cat creeps through the school, keeping to the walls and hiding in shadows. It doesn't do much good, but it's instinct, and that makes it somewhat calming at least.
The sound of running feet fills the hall and he turns a corner. Mistaking the mortal in his path for a ghost, he hisses and arches his back. He may be small, but his claws are sharp and he is willing to fight.
4
This cat looks much less friendly than the other one. Is it also a prisoner here or some sort of anomaly? He doesn't know, but he's not going to take his chances.
Keeping an eye on the feline he opens his bag and digs inside. He should be able to get his knife before it gets to him.*
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