-Missing- IC Thread: RP Cast Filled

[Aykorn]

So Max had chosen to not fight goons, as they all ran from a drill barreling towards them. Surprise, surprise.

...Actually? Wade hadn't been entirely sure that Max would make that decision. He wasn't sure what Max was thinking at all. Was he thinking? That was the real question here.

Whatever, Wade thought as he side-eyed Max. No one was getting stuck behind the drill now. That made this part simpler. He put both hands over the drills heart, closing his eyes to focus on what to instill onto the drill. Rotate, move... Run...

With this remaining chance to access the drill, parts of him wanted to keep exploring what kind of commands it would take, what he could feel about the system, what kind of memory he could-- there were footsteps. They were close. He'd be a hypocrite if he didn't know it was more important to get away.

He had to do this now and let the drill go.

When Jax had asked how this plan sounded, Wade had given him a sure nod back. He felt like he could get the drill to do this easily. In a circular way, it wasn't just confidence. The drill worked off feelings so if he felt it, he could do it.

Wade opened his eyes and pulled his hands away. It was simple, it would work. And now that the drill had been set in motion, it was time to scram.

Follow: Jax, Use: the Drill

 

[VeryButter]

Magabelle sighed in a small bit of relief when she found the weapon Beth had given her. For some reason, she figured she was worried that the weapon wouldn't be there, or something like that. It was a stupid thought anyhow; there's no way someone would've gotten up here without her noticing, unless they climbed through the window.

Her concentration broke as a realisation hit her. How was she going to leave? If someone was at the front door, she couldn't just waltz out that way, and if there were multiple, then she was, to put it bluntly, screwed. And she didn't want to get further behind Alga. Maybe...

Sneaking backwards, Magabelle slowly grabbed the bottom of the window in her room, then suddenly threw it upwards, letting wind come in. She twirled around and aimed out of the window, taking a shot and leaving a blue trail outside, then transformed into a squid, hopping up onto the windowsill and then dropping out of her house with almost no hesitation. She will find Alga, and nobody will stop her.

Go To: Squid Sister's House

 

[ReedRGale]

@Aykorn and @Hesoca

​

Spoiler: Wade Arroyo and Maximillian de Re

Wade and Max ==> Follow Orders

Max followed angrily. Wade followed after feeling out directions for the drill. But both followed.

The drill was spinning again, but it wasn’t as loud without the conflicting rock. It completely drowned out any marching soldiers or workers, but as they walked, it faded into the distance. No Octarian would be following them into that muted path.

But what path were they taking? What tunnel seems to slowly consume light? Or maybe the flashlights were dying. But no. That was impossible.

Wade noticed it first. It was getting darker. That shouldn’t have been possible. At least he knew his batteries were new. And they hadn’t been down here longer than an hour. There should have been plenty of energy left.

And yet, it got darker. And it continued to evelop them.

Soon, none of them could see the other. The flashlight beams were all for naught.

And it was silent.

Spoiler: Max ==> Go To--

Max called out in the darkness. Angry. Somewhere along the line, he realized he’d stopped hearing the footsteps of Jax ahead or Wade behind. After a long time, he realized that he was just walking alone in the complete darkness.

It had been gradual. So gradual. The light had just slowly disappeared. He hadn’t even noticed. Impossible! How had it gotten so dark. How had he been so blind?

He called out again. No one was there. No one.

Not Jax. Not even the kid. They’d abandoned him.

He closed his eyes. He wouldn’t yell or scream. He was the hero. He had to take deep breaths. To find that hidden, calm place inside himself. The space of stars in his chest. A grassy field. Calm. And once he was there, he opened his eyes.

He wasn't in his calm place though. He wasn't even in the tunnel. H͓͎̺͙̳̝̣̼ͅe̗͕̲͢ ̢͍͙͘̕w̝͘ą͏̭͙s̱͈̝̘̀͘͟ ͚̜͇͜͡ͅi̝͚̲̬̞̙͟͟n҉͈͓̮̮̯̪̯ ̱͇͢h̨͚̟̘̲͠i͏͍̙̣̟̙̭̭̖͢s̡͈̗͘͝ ҉̸̻̲̰̗͔͈ͅr̷̺̪͈o͚̲̣͎̼̺̜̤͘ǫ̴̤̼̯̩̪͘m̩͉̭̬͖̙̀́͟.͉̻̟̩͔̠̫̙

It was messy, as he’d left it. Posters still in place. Desk still cluttered with drinks--mostly finished. The flickering light of the computer lit the room, yet the screen showed nothing. Shelves filled to the brim with stories of war heroes. And yes, even the crates under his bed that nobody but he knew about.

His head was fuzzy. W̸̵͇̩͍ḩ͖̱̘͘͢y̯̙̭̖ͅ ̵̦͝w͎̳̞͇͚̟͡ͅa̤̻̲͙ͅś̡̩̟̼ ̴͎͔́h̯́ẹ̘̥̺̘ ҉̷̢̖͉̳̯h̴̦̫̠̻̦e̶̸̪r̸͍̹͉͚̤ḛ̡̺̹̱͍̳̣̭͕͘?̨͉̞̰̗̗̫̥̦͢ He was… he was h͖͓̳̝o̼̖̼̗̠̦͠ͅm̸̢̤͕̫͈͜e̴̲̝͟.̸̨̣͔͟ͅ And Dad would be home soon. ****! Was dinner ready? Dad always wanted dinner served straight after work. Deep Ones below, it was almost time and Max hadn’t prepared anything.

He rushed to the kitchen to prepare something but it was all he could manage to get some mac and cheese cooking and some bagged vegetables heated up. Before...

He was home.

His f̡̹̰̹͟a҉̷̯̰̜́t̷̛̯͕̘̤͎̜̭̟̝h̞̣͎̼͉̕͜e̦͕̼̦̮̕͡r̵͔̘̭̠͇͖͚ was a figure c͔̼̫̘͙̘l͘o͉̙̬͕a͕̪̹̺͕̻̜͞ḵe̝̩͝d͙͎̹̜̗̫͘ ̸̼̳͎̻̟i̷̮̣n̳̦̣͠ ͏l̺̰̜̰̰͢i̩v̼̖̲̳i̜̕ͅn̖g̟̯̥ͅ ̝̺m̨͍͚̲ͅa̖͓t͇̳t̝̫͍̩̤̩̼͜e̛̬͉͚̩̝̻r͖.̱ A w͘r̝̬̩̱̹̱i͟t͈̤̤̯͎ͅͅh͚̤̼i͙̮͍̰͍͍̫n̶͖̭̩͎͔̗̲g͈̬̰̫̘͝ ̫͖̞͈̝̟͡ͅt̙ͅu̢̖͔̹͎n̵i͜c̝̯̝͝ ̹͉̼͚̫o̘̻f̖̪ ̗͎͓̩O͏̗c̻̝̼̫͎̜͕t̨͓͕̥̠̱̩̪a҉̭̘r̹̹i̧̱̮an ̣̩̖͞f̳̥̩l̪̪͔͙̥͞e͏͙̗̲̞̠ͅs̰͉̗͔̞̦h͏.̛͎̞̝ͅ From his face w̻͉͍ͅr̶͕͉i̴̪̞̫̞͕g̡g͔͙͍̮̺̤̝ḷ̰̝̝̤̜̹ed͖̞̀ ̱̱̙͎̱͎͘ͅh͘u͖̝͔͖͖n̯̼͔̜͓̩̘͘d͎͙͓̬r̤͙̯̣̦͘e͘d͈͜s ̻͈̙̱̤͘o̕f̬̺̩̲̟̯̳ ̱͓͙̲̝̱̖s̗̪̠̹̠̜m̥̻̼̙̩a̗͟l̛̘̞͖̬̝̻l̲̼͍̗͓͙̣͠ t̺̹͢e̙̦̼̫͉n̡͉͔͕̰̫̘d̗̯̫͈̩̗ŕ͓̘͈i̧ls͕̦,̮̯ ̩͖̗̳́f̵͓̟̲e͕͇̬e̬l̝͍̼̺i̧͖̳̝̳n̗g͉̬͎͓ ̹̖͎̞̭͠in҉w҉̝͕̮͙̞ͅą͚̦̪̰͔ͅr͏d̩̭̳̼͜ ͙̗̰t̪̯͙̘̬̱o͍̱͚̭̼̫ ̘̘̦̦̳̤͉a͘ ̶̰f̜̱̖̼̪͘a̛̙̺c͔͕e͏̰̩̱l̫̘̜̣̬͘e͉̜̳͠s̢͈̩̻s̷̮ ͍̼̘̥͟ho̠l͏͕̺̙̤e̹̝̘ ̭͈̳̳͘o̱̼͡f͙̲̳̦̗ s̯͙̜h̲̪̟͉͞ͅar͍͕͔̦͎ͅp̤̺ ͙̪͇͖̭̹̰͡t͏̘̘̗͚̤͚e̬͎͕̰̪̘̻͝e̮̭̼͕t̤̼̳̳͉h̨̹̠.̱͠ͅ The corruption in tangible form.

Max felt smaller. Was smaller. He was in grade school after all. But he knew the corruption when he saw it. If only others could see what the Octarians were doing to his d҉̘͙̗a̻̭d͕̫̬̺.̺͕̠̗̫̠͉͜

Da̗͔̰̩d̙͖̰ took his food without thanks. A̞͈̭͝ ͎̟͝s̡̰̱̩̻ͅi͓ng̵̗̰le ̘̙̯t̫̝o̵̱̺̖̙̩̩̖n͙̭̫̠g͔̩̦̲̘ͅu͇̩̪̝e͏̩̝̘ ̝̠͍̦͖̫͟ḛ͞x͙̝̹͇̘̥͍t͏̟̖̻̙ẹ̫̝͖́nd͕͙e̠̗̣͖̹̪d ̱͙͕̘̣̜ͅi̛͉͎̩t̠̟͙͎̠͕̳̕s̻̬̬͘e̢̯͈͖̜̼̖l̤͔̺f from his father’s face, and began to scarf down the mac voraciously. He was angry again. But it wasn’t his fault. The Octarians were. They did it.

H̳͔̰̹̦͖͠e̮̟ͅ threw the bowl at Max. H̢̳̥e͓̥͔̲̘͉ͅ screeched curses of inadequacy. T͉̖͎̳̟ó͎͚̘̖̲͚ͅo͔̗̦̦͡ͅ ̬͎͖̱̗̜h̻̰̕o̱̭͓̻t̵̖̭̤.̗̳̀ ̵͈̞̺N̶͓̫̖͍̼̘͝ͅe̟͟v̡̭͓͢e͏̶̱̰̲̰͕͉̺r̷͓̫̩͉͈̼ͅ ̦͕̙̣̮̺g̷̡̺̖e̟͓͡t҉͔͈́ ̴̵̹̳͖̤ṯ̷̦̯͡h͙̫͈̹͎̙͔͍̕i͘҉̭̬̤͓̜̲n͔͝g̨̟̮̩͇͙̕͢ͅs̭̘̩̹̮͜͜ ̶͓̫̫͞r͏̹̭̣͖̬̻̗͟ị̢̘̲̟̦͔̖͢g͓̰̼͚̮̙̳̹h̝͡ͅt̲̼̗͍͈̼͡.̜̟͍̻́̕ͅ ̡͉̯̳͚͡J̴̢̛̹̲̱͎͚̗͈͙̺͚̖͜ͅu̢͍͕̰͙͉̬̜̳͈̩͢͝͝ͅs̨̥͙̦̹̪̰̟͚̺͔͖̜͓̺͖̻ͅṭ̡̧͙̻̟̠̬̥̦́̀ ̦̭̝̲̬͍̫̝͙̯̼̠̩̖͍̦̙́͘l̢̢͍̦̹̱̦̝̝̗̗͙̦͇̻͢i̵̷̡̛͏͉̼͚̗͉͖̰̠̝̭̣̪͓̹̮ḳ̵̠͍̮̟̝̬͙̱̼̼͚̠͈͖̺͎͖̞́e̸͔͎̩̟͇͓͈͎͚͖͚̞͉̹͓͉̩̪̩͘͡ ̷̛̰̣̪̗̟y̡̨̡̳̥̺̭͙͔̪̗̞̖͕̼̠͘ơ̤͕͈̗̖̮͖̟̖͇̦̺̫͙̺̰̼͡͡u̜̲̼͘͜r̯̹̪̟͓͖͖͓͚͞͝ ̳̭̫̭͉̼́͝͡m̸͇̭̬̻̦̮̪̗̣̲̪̮̖̦̤̦o͠҉̭̘̩̫̞͉͖̹͘͘͜t̨̙̭̬͈͙̖̙͇̝͖̥̱̥̩͍̱ͅͅh̸͈̱̘̠̰͈̳̩̗͟͢͠è̫̖̠̜͖̙͇͙̮̱̬͕̭̞̦̰̬ͅr̶͙͕͓̞͞.̴̢͉͎͚̰̭̝́̕͘ͅ

Not his fault. Not h͖̲̥̫͟i̵̹̙̹̦ͅs̰̝͕̞̱̻ fault.

He began to eat the vegetables. Max considered returning to his room. Maybe it would be safer. Maybe he could leave a̵̺͚͍̲̩͈l̹̘̜͡l̦̙̣̱̫͇̥͝ ͙̺̥̜t̸͙̠̬̩͈̩hi̭̭͎ṣ.̡̱̮̯̙̺̪̖

He snuck away while his f̼͠a͍ţ̬̰̹̭h̳è̼̠͚̞͕ṛ̸͈͍͎̺ͅ was busy. But this time, in his room, there was a mirror. That… wasn’t his. That wasn’t supposed to be here.

Spoiler: Wade ==> Go Back

Wade called out in the darkness. But no one responded. Not Jax, nor Max. Hell, he’d even settle for that gun-toting maniac at this point.

But no one was there. None of them had answered when he tried to get their attention before. He had seen it after all. The growing darkness. And now here they were completely without vision.

Great.

Wade worked to calm down. Take a deep breath. Close his eyes and reaffirm this mission. Explore the tunnel. Get info on Deepview and the Octarian dealings. Maybe it had to do with these drills? Maybe that was why Jax had been so intent on them before? Yes, that was it. That was…

Wade opened his eyes. He was home. Not his apartment. He was home.

And it was no longer dark. Looking out the window, he saw that it was afternoon and… no that wasn’t right. It should have been darker. He was in a tunnel.This wasn’t real.

And yet, it was tempting. This unreality.

Wade knew. This was the afternoon. That afternoon. The afternoon his sister left. When she rebelled against their parents. She would be running away soon.

Wade was smaller. He knew that was wrong. He willed himself back to who he was supposed to be. Bigger. Older. Wiser. Fuller. But mostly bigger. Yes, that felt right.

He strode out the door, unsure what he was going to do, but certain he would do something, he ran into his sister. She seemed shocked to be caught redhanded, bags packed and ready to go. She had been tiptoeing.

She seemed unperturbed by Wade’s changed size or shape. But she didn’t ignore him.

@Banshee

Spoiler: Alga Sargasso

Alga ==> Talk

What would she have been able to do? It wasn’t her fault. There wasn’t any way she could have stopped it.

Alga saw the impending doom, her doppel standing in the scene, shaking its head in disgrace. It faded out.

The Seer must See.

Brutus and Felix and Germana were too late, of course.

They were in position. One reflective surface showed Felix issuing a command. Two others showed Brutus and Germana beginning a coordinated strike.

Brutus jumped out of hiding with the cold, hardened look on. That look Alga had coaxed from him before. He was terrifying then and he was terrifying now. He struck down two hooded figures. One he’d clocked with his weapon, sending them straight to their knees. The other, he hailed with ink. They were finished in seconds.

Germana lept from a ledge, hidden from her attackers. But not hidden from Alga. Nothing was hidden to the Seer. Not now. And never again. In two furious swipes, she cleft three of the attackers in twain, their bodies bursting into a spray of oily fuchsia.

They got the jump on the attackers, but there were too many bodies. Too many to rush to Lili in time. The cultist in the center was entranced, Alga could see that now, holding the g̙͖ͅl̶im̛̤m̰e̡̬͖̹r̶̩̣̬̖̪i̩͈̯̻͇͝n͍̗̼̟̪͟g̲͈͉͔ͅ ̱d̼ą̠̻̰̱͚͕͍g͏̝g̡͚ͅe̢̘̹̭̺̭͚r̭̫ over her acquaintance.

That was all she was right? An acquaintance? Right? ...Right?

Brutus and Germana might have been able to cut a way through, but not in time. Alga watched in painful vision as the dagger shoved itself into the neck of a squirming Lili. I̗̬̭̮̻̩͔t̠͇̻̗̤ ̫͎̝͉̹̥̭͜c̮ų͓̱t̛̮̱͙̹̼ͅ ͚̰̗d̠͓̙͚̝e͇͔͔̼̫̲e̘̹̩̻̬̹̬p͔̺̝.̱

She didn’t pop. She didn’t do much of anything. She just stopped moving. She melted. There was a stillness as her form simply stopped being. There was no essence. The pink ink that had been her receded with each passing moment into the dagger.

And then there was darkness. The mirrors went black.

Alga was grateful. But she willed the scene back. She didn’t want to see but she was transfixed. She wanted to know. But she couldn’t. Didn't want to. The reflective surfaces had gone dark.

And then her other, the Word, walked up to the barrier between them.

Sadly, it wrote,

“˙ɥʇnɹʇ sᴉɥʇ uʍouʞ ǝʌɐɥ I pu∀ ˙noʎ uǝǝs ǝʌɐɥ I ʇnq ˙ǝsᴉʍɹǝɥʇo ʇno uɹnʇ plnoʍ sᴉɥʇ pǝdoɥ pɐɥ I”

And then she was gone. The mirrors returned to normal, reflective surfaces. She tried to call back the images of Lili. What of Brutus? Of Germana? Of Felix? Were they… okay? But the images showed empty black.

She realized she was crying. And people were staring. She was crying and people were staring.

Such is the price of indifference.

What now?

@VeryButter

Spoiler: Magabelle Yyouni

Mag ==> Go To: Squid Sisters' House

Mag had left her house behind. Her safety was behind her. Her innocence as well. She had a goal. And that was worth all that.

She would find that guitar teacher. She would find the girl with brown tentacles. And her only clue was at that house. That was the goal. The starting line.

The journey started with a run, a mad dash to get away from the home that was so definitely to be devastated. But she didn’t look back. She jogged. Then sprinted. Then walked.

It was dark and her hearts were beating. Her shoes clacked against the sidewalk as she questioned ‘what was she even going to find? How was this even related to a guitar teacher? Who was that at the building?’

Who indeed.

She was at the backdoor again. And when she got there, the man in the white shirt with no tie sat and waited.

Mag opened the door with no hesitation, but the man made no motion toward her. “Thought you got the message the first time. Leave. I don’t want to kill you again. I don’t want to fight. You shouldn’t be here.”

((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))

Reminders:

Posts are Due: Friday
Gm Post will be Made: Saturday--you guys know the drill.

Spoiler: Available Actions Reminder

Will be Responded to in GM Post:
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]

Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]

 

[Rustic]

Canchi breathed in, trying to make sense of what had just happened, it was grating, he was sure. If he went into his squid form, he knew that he’d simply fall through it, but he wasn’t a squid. He was a kid, just a kid who made a bad decision to find a guitarist.

I laughed, not because he found it funny, but because I found it stupid. All of it, just to find someone I didn’t even know. For all I know, that girl probably didn't even exist.

Canchi wondered why he even bothered to follow Mag into the train, talked to One, and went into the tunnel with them. It was dumb of him to do it, and he knew it. What stake did he have in it? Heck, he wondered why he took a shot for her, she probably could've handled it without his help.

She could've, you probably could've run and she would be fine. I believe she is fine, idiot.

He shook off those thoughts, assuming that it was his nihilistic self trying to be funny. That was the word, right? He didn't know. But now, he knew he had to rescue the Squid Sisters. If anything, it might at least anchor him to ‘reality’. Whatever ‘reality’ was. He wondered what he could do with this… power of his.

A mischievous thought appeared in his head, multiple in fact, branching off into what he could try with it. A light smile soon formed on his face, malicious but childish, walking through the doorway back into the glass jar room.

[Go to: Glass Jar Place]

 

[Banshee]

Her mind is blank for a moment that seems to stretch like hot plastic, her eyes staring into the mirrors whose reflections of herself glare back before flickering to the people staring her down in much the same fashion. She notes their expressions, reminding herself of the Word's own face and the words that imprinted themselves into her mind with no source or sound, and something crawls up her throat, threatening to burn a hole in her esophagus.

It's hard to figure out what she's feeling. Everything is warring for a spot in her body; tremors of something in her limbs mix with a dull weight holding her down by the stomach while something burns away at her lungs, vague thoughts she can't quite decipher pummelling away in the back of her mind.

Lili is dead. People are staring. The Word's expression, their words, are seared to the forefront of her mind. Shameful. Sad. Disappointed.

It hurts. Everything hurts. She wants it to stop. People are staring and she wants it to stop. She wants it to stop. She wants ev erythin g to s to p--

Alga is out before she can hear her head hit the ground.

Faint

 

[ReedRGale]

Canchi ==> Go To: Containment Room

Smirking to control the anxiety, running a fun opportunity in his head to distract the truth, Canchi walked through the wall to the containment room. He needed more people here. Even if it was going to be a mess to do. He needed to not be alone. He needed an anchor.

He found the cells that contained the Squid Sisters. The jars seemed less vibrant than the others. He couldn't help noticing it.

These one's aren't real.

They both could tell. He looked to the other jars. They were real. People were in them. Stones were in those containers. But the Sisters' one wasn't real.

What now, idiot?

 

[VeryButter]

Mag, although surprised at the suitless-tieless still being here, squinted, raising her weapon and pointing it at them. She did not trust them. And she had good reason not to, too.

"Well, if you don't want to fight, then there should be no problems," she said, stepping forward cautiously, "I won't be here for long. I'll be gone the moment I figure out how to go into that ... floor door."

Talk: Suitless-Tieless (not for long, she hopes)

 

[Rustic]

Strange.

Even before, he saw that the two's Stones were different than the others. The other stones seemed to be frantic in their attempts in getting back into their stone, but theirs. Theirs just... seemed off, he'd imagine that they would be determined. True to their personalities on TV!

Seeing his favourite Squid Sister, Callie, like that hurt him deeply. But he felt something...
Something seemed off, terribly off.

I knew it, I knew it that He was blind.

Canchi looked at his hand, willing it to become not 'real,' whatever that meant.

It means nothing is real. How can you not understand something so simple?

'course he knew that. That's what It was nagging at him the entire time, he knew what was real. He'd rather believe in himself rather than listen to an even stupider voice in his head. The voice didn't dictate what he did, he dictates what he does, how could It not comprehend something like that?

Time to try something. This is gonna end in one of two ways, the essence really messes him up or nothing.
Canchi stabbed his hand right into Callie's jar, at least he thought it was Callie's.

[Help out Callie]

 

[ReedRGale]

Canchi ==> Help out Callie

With a quick motion, Canchi grasped the Callie's stone. Then, he grabbed Callie. Or... whatever was in that jar. Then, he pulled them out, as if the glass holding container wasn't even there.

It was weird. Somehow he knew he could so he did. That he could touch the intangible. And whatever was in this bottle was just that. But it simply floated away upon release. It didn't go back to the stone he was holding.

Not. Real. Duh. Fake essence. Remember?

Canchi's mind was brought to biology. About simulated essences. About attempts to create inklings by taking small amounts of essence energy and forcing them together. They always failed, but produced a sprite similar to an essence.

A fake. A good fake. Why would Deepview fill a container with that?

> Academics + Savvy (Connect the Dots)
> Modifiers: All the Puzzle Pieces (+2)
> Base Pool 8 ==> Dice Pool 10
> 4 Successes

It clicked. His breakout. The orange ink. The fake essence. He was a coverup.

Orange had taken the Squid Sisters. Then, they'd taken his jar and broken him out. But why? A distraction?

In any case... there were all these other people. Did he want to free them or...

What now?

 

[Aykorn]

Wade froze. He stood so still that he could feel his heartbeat pulse through his limbs. He was afraid that one sudden movement and this ...unreality would shatter, and this moment would slip away from his grasp once again.

And he couldn't bear that. Not like this. Not when he could see his sister after all this time, when somewhere deep in his mind, he thought he'd never see her again.

Wade brought a hand to his face to cover his mouth. His eyes were starting to sting. He couldn't think of what to say.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't know if he could believe it. His sister was sixteen, she even looked sixteen. She couldn't be sixteen, five years had passed.

Yet here everything was, exactly as it had been that day. The light of a setting sun bathed the room. His older sister stood in front of him, wearing the same varsity jacket, with the same fear in her eyes as she stared back. Her things were being stuffed away as she tried to leave without anyone noticing, yet here Wade was: standing here, witnessing it, just like he had before.

Wade realized he knew what came next.

Everything happened so fast, the yelling, the door, the silence. No one would hear from her for years. No one, no one...

Wade's chest tightened. He knew everything that would come after, but at this very moment...

When he was nine, and he wanted to know everything revolving his sister, Wade curiously went over to her things and snooped around, not thinking twice about why she looked so... upset. His sister had quickly yanked her belongings back, told him to 'keep quiet', and 'go somewhere else' for the time being. She was was worried, almost anticipating when she'd be caught...

When Wade didn't leave right away, their parents noticed. They came in, noticed her bags, and noticed her ready to leave.

It was then that--No. No... She couldn't leave. Not now, not this like this. Not this time.

Seeing his sister and knowing it couldn't be real, reminded of this memory, but living this moment again... So many feeling welled up in Wade, but he knew one thing. She was here right now and she could see him, too. He could say something, do something. He could try!

Powering through the emotions choking his voice, with heartbroken eyes Wade called out to his older sister.

"...R-Rivera?"

Talk to: Rivera

 

[Rustic]

Canchi looked at the fake stone, mouth agape, eyes staring.

“Are you freaking serious?” He asked, tossing the stone to the ground with all his strength as he grinded his teeth. “I risk my life for nothing and I’m thrown away because some Chum-licker was here before me?”

"Screw you, Orange! Screw you, dude!" He was filled with such fury, such anger, coming all this way only to be tossed over the bulkhead to the Steelheads.

I think that’s a terrible metaphor, to be honest.

“Be quiet,” he snarled, his ears felt warm as did his cheeks.

Canchi cursed under his breath as he paced back and forth, wishing that he didn’t do what he did to get here. He took a slow breath in and gave a look back at the remaining dummy projection.

I told you it wasn’t real, why didn’t you listen to me? We could’ve been blissfully ignorant.

‘...shut it,’ Canchi thought as his hands curled into fists, gripping the gun in his hand tight until it started hurting. The ink flowing through his body felt like boiling oil, quickly gripping the barrel of his gun, he started systematically breaking every glass jar he could.

[Break all of the containers we see.]

 

[ReedRGale]

Canchi ==> Break

He was angry. This wasn't fair. He was cheated.

He looked from jar to jar. And so were they. So, a delightful grin crossing both minds--his and its--he decided to play with reality.

It wasn't real after all.

He broke out one after another; random celebrity after random celebrity. He'd seen them all but he'd never known any of them.

It felt good though. Broken glass littered the floor as Canchi tore stone and jar then artfully dropped one to the ground. Or threw it. Or tossed it in the air.

Delightful.

It took a long while before he heard the sirens. Then he remembered. The disrupted camera. It must have been active.

Some people were collapsed on the floor and some were staring around, confused. Some could even ask questions.

What's the plan now?

 

[Rustic]

The rush of breaking the jars was the most theraputic feeling he'd had in... well, who knew how long? He sure as eel didn't, and he was pretty sure if everything else wasn't real, what is time then?

What is time?

Pfft I don't freaking know anymore, I don't know anything at this point, he thought, in one deft motion, he threw his gun into the air and grabbed its grip. Scratchy and rough after its usage on all the jars.

Who even were these people? They were celebrities he barely recognized or even knew at all, stumbling around, acting all confused and like. What made the least sense, was who the eel would steal a bunch of celebrities.

Like really?

Is that what you're concerned about? This might be trap you know...

Canchi hadn't considered that at all, he could've freed someone he wasn't supposed to free. Or worse, someone that wanted him to spring them. He looked around at the celebrities, trying to remember who they were.

[Try to find at one familiar face, heck even talk to them.]

 

[Hesoca]

The old door creaked in response to Max's presence, on hinges tired and well-worn. Quiet, he pressed it shut, listening as the latch clicked, the light faded, and the distant image of his father disappeared behind the beaten wood.

He held his breath. The room slept, uninterrupted by his entrance. Outside, the wind blew across his windowsill, tapping sharply; beyond it, the streets buzzed with mindless bustle and fury. At his feet, dim light escaped through the cracks of the door, overflowing like an uncontrolled rapid. Somewhere plates shattered. His father gurgled and screeched. Not his fault.

The television downstairs flickered to life with an indistinct chatter.

Slowly, he sunk to the floor, cradling himself in his knees. His father’s burbling echoes conjured a vision of the parasitic beast roaming behind the door, it tentacles searing the ground. It wasn't his father that had stepped through the door. His dad was real, well-loved and well-spoken. Not some nightmarish creature. Not that.

Carefully, he touched where the bowl had struck him. Pain welled at the spot; his fingers returned to him red.

Not his fault.

From its place in front of him, the mirror watched, unstill and living. It was square and plain, common at any store. Yet he knew it was wrong, another impurity existing where it should not have been, a creature like the one that controlled his father. Every thought screamed at him to stand and fight, to slaughter it, break it into defenseless shards. But his own body fought him, and the mirror thrived unchallenged.

"Ma̢͚̠̓ͮn̫̘̙̕, wh͇̭ͬą͙̊͂t̒ a wè͎̙̘a̯͕k͙̠̬ḷi̡̦n͖g," a voice gurgled at his side. Immediately, a sharp pain lashed across his chest. Cringing, he turned to its owner, recognizing with horror an entity of memory and slime. It was blind; tendrils escaped where its eyes had once been.

It towered over him, dripping with decay. He stared, paralyzed.

"He̘y̪,̤̠͞ c'mo͏͎̻n͍̘̻ͅ,̜̦ ͕̪̰̯ͅm̧̺̞̲ạ̸n," another voice said, warped by corruption but still understandable, "He͏̯̺ ̶ṭ̻̭̗o̸͙͕̯ld you t̡̳̭o̜͕ ̞̖̯͚̬͞s̼͓̙͢ͅt̠͈̟̙̮͝o̥̞̭ͅp̗̙̘̦͎."

The first being slothered, spitting rot. "Yeȃ͙͙̬ͫh̨̰,͈̪͈̞ s̪͓͍̚o̸̫̝̊ͧ?͂ͤ́ Wh̨̺̻̰͔a̞̜̭ͅt̹̗͓͜'͉̱͔͠s̢̻ ͚̖͇h̤̺̫eͬ͟ ̿ǵo̊́nͧ̉̾͑͛ͭ͘n͈̙͡a̮͙͕ ̵̼d̷͙̹o͓̤̯̗͡ ̥̯̰͜á̮͈ͅbo̫͇͙ͩ͋̊ṷ̮t̓̓ͪ͗̊͏̺ͅ ̺̪̗͌̕i̸̫̼̻t?" A cackle escaped it, masked by smoke and sulfur. The stench burned his face; he choked against it.

His gaze met where the being’s once was. Somewhere behind that demon's scars laid its true face, hopeless and pleading. He wanted to save that face, to tear at its facelessness, rip apart its rotting flesh until not a single trace of the impurity was left. Yet he couldn't. He knew the consequences; his father was an omen, and the presence that possessed him consumed words and engorged action. Living only led to hurt. Hurt led to corruption.

He blinked through the smoke, his eyes stinging. And as he did, he saw the face multiply. A city of others appeared behind it, their features warped by impurity and scorn. The corruption was in each of them, existing as every creatures that caused pain, as every worm that bore and every louse that lied and every the tick that stole and every mite that destroyed; he could see every parasite that dwelled in their hearts, and he knew, he knew he couldn't save them, he couldn't save them because he couldn't save his father and he couldn't save himself and he couldn't, he could not, he could not breathe.

Thus he sobbed, breathless, into his knees. And the room slept; the wind blew; the mirror watched.

Not their fault.

Slowly, the beings faded, each going their own way. With them went the spatting voice, the smell of smoke, the screeches from downstairs. Yet when he looked up, the mirror was still there, waiting patiently where it had always been. Unstill and living. A parasite.

Something bitter rose within him, bringing with it anger he should not have known. Why the shell hadn't it disappeared with the others? It was wrong. It shouldn't have lived. It needed to leave.

He sat, his arms resting on his knees, the growing fury clawing at his throat. And without thinking, he gave it form, screaming at the top of his lungs:

GO AWAY

 

[ReedRGale]

Canchi ==> Examine Faces in Crowd

Hoo boy, where to begin.

There were a bunch of people he recognized on sight. The inkling from Chirpy Chips was looking around panicked, calling out for their other members. The three inklings from the Squid Squad were squabbling over how to find their Urchin drummer. The punk rock guitarist and vocalist of Wet Floor looked mad as all hell. One man looked particularly confused, all on his own, and Canchi thought he might be Bob Dub.

Besides those colorful characters, there were a bunch of men and women in suits confusedly talking with each other, trying to get a better idea of the situation. He wasn't sure who they were, but they were probably important?

None of them looked friendly though. They all seemed panicked in one shade or another, and none really wanted to talk, especially in light of the ringing alarm.

 

[ReedRGale]

@Aykorn

Spoiler: Wade Arroyo ==> I'm Always Here In You

"...R-Rivera?" Wade squeaked. Even though he wasn't small anymore... he felt small.

"Squirt," she began, as if speaking to a child, "look, I need you to go back to your room. You never saw me, okay?"

This was when his parents were supposed to come out. When things were supposed to go south. But they never did. He would go back to his room and never think twice. Not until it was too late.

But he was here. His parents weren't. It was just the two of them.

No need to go, not yet. Not when she was so close.

Wade was speechless for a moment.

Okay, this might have been the first time in 5 years he'd seen his sister, but the Rivera in front of him was dead set on leaving even if it meant dealing with a 9 year old. Maybe sparing his feelings at the very least, but she was ready. To be gone.

A wry laugh escaped Wade's mouth.

"No...?" he asked, incredulously. Shell no?

Her face didn't twist in rage. She didn't explode or even scold him as Wade had half-feared.

All she did was look away forlornly.

"Look, Squirt, I..." She seemed to struggle for words that a nine year old could digest. "...just can't be here anymore. You know those things I talk about? That you'll understand when you're older? This is one of those, okay? So, just go back to your room. Please?"

She'd begun to tousle his tentacles. Lovingly. He'd always remembered her playing with his hair, messing it up, playfully. Never this solemnly. Never like this.

Deep Ones... if only this moment, this unreality never had to end. If only he could make this last. He wasn't going. No. He couldn't. Not now. Not this time. Even if it wasn't real.

Wade could feel his eyes watering again. It all felt too real. She was right here, her fingers running through his hair. It reminded him just how much he had missed her. He'd missed her so badly.

Damnit, was this all just a dream?

Wade rushed forward and hugged Rivera.

His voice was choked up. He wanted to cry 'I am older! I still don't understand!' but he found himself pleading, "Rivera, please don't go, please."

"Wh- I-!--I'm right here, Wade," Rivera cooed. "What's gotten into you? Mom 'n' Dad'll be--I can't if you--"

She clenched her teeth. Just as he knew she would. It had hurt for her to go. Surely.

Surely it had hurt for her to leave him behind. He'd loved her. She'd loved him. She'd tease him and hug him and tousle his tentacles and

and this

this wasn't real

Deep Ones... let it just be.

Right now it didn't matter. No secret organizations. No missing Annie. No working on conspiracies. No problems. No more problems. No more missing. She was right here.

She was right here.

"I'm right here," she repeated. "I'm right here."

Wade held onto his sister. He wanted to keep holding her and never let go. He wanted to believe she was right here, that they could just stay in this moment.

Teardrops spilled onto Rivera's jacket.

He could hear the hurt in her voice as she tried to tear herself away. She was still worried that their parents might come. Then everything would go to ruin. But it couldn't happen. It didn't already, so it couldn't. He knew it was impossible because he'd lived it and the fact that they were still talking was too good to be true.

Wade couldn't take it.

This wasn't what happened.

"No, you're not!" he cried.

Wade let go of his sister, tears falling from his face. He put a hand over his mouth, but he'd already said it.

What happened now that he couldn't pretend? He wanted to pretend he was still nine, and this still mattered and everything could stay this way, but he couldn't.

"This... this isn't what happened," Wade sobbed.

"It's what's happening now," Rivera said. The embrace had felt so real, all of it was so real.

If only this were the way things could have played out. Or did play out in the future. But no. Riv was missing. Annie was missing. There was so much to find.

"Squirt," Rivera said, finally, "I'll always be here for you. You know that, right?"

Her words were so comforting. Wade wanted to agree, yes, she'd always be here for him, and let it be. He could only dream he'd lived in a world where his older sister was still around, tousling his tentacles and teasing him like it was normal.

But it just wasn't true.

Rivera had disappeared, and everything she abandoned left painful memories. Her room, her real room, was locked and collecting dust. Places she used to frequent felt hollow. Like home. Deep Ones, Wade could have used anyone to fill the absence in their house. He felt so alone, as his parents carried on like their own daughter hadn't run away.

His parents. They... they didn't-- They didn't tell him anything!

Wade clutched himself as he cried. His sister had gone missing, didn't he deserve to know what happened?! He now looked to his own family and didn't know who he could trust.

Where was she then?

Nevermind the fact he could never ask his mother to teach him to snipe. He never had Rivera to ask. He picked up a charger and learned how to use it on his own.

She wasn't 'there' for him then, either!

He couldn't even imagine what it was like to have her there for him, always. It sounded so sweet, but he couldn't accept something so... fabricated. So false.

Wade's tears spilled over and he couldn't stop himself. "How can you say that?" he cried.


>"It's what you want, isn't it, Squirt?" Rivera replied. "It's how you wanted this to happen, retroactively. I'll be here. Whenever you need me. I'll be here."

Wade couldn't look at her. As the tears spilled out, his gaze settled on a hallway table. That was supposed to be there. But not the mirror.

​

There was a small, handheld mirror made of crystal. And in its gaze was his sister. Or rather, her location.

She wasn't there in the mirror.

Walking closer, he could tell there were other differences. In the hallway he could see pictures of him growing up. The wallpaper seemed more faded. The rug was different.

The world reflected in that mirror was the one he remembered.

And Rivera wasn't in it.

Wade stared into the reflection, almost chilled by what he saw.

He recognized the details, all the signs of age in the house he remembered growing up in. It seemed... genuine. Different from the room he stood in, if only subtly.

Not like this room, which wasn't real. Where the Rivera that existed in it, --she wasn't real either-- said everything he wanted.

Wade sneered through his crying, as he abruptly made his way to the table.

How could this be what he wanted?

He didn't want an image of his sister promising things she could never live up to. With her face and her voice and her touch. He didn't want this unreality to bend like a spoon, like... like it was that easy! Like the Rivera he remembered didn't have her reasons for walking out. Because she had her reasons. She loved him, she had to have known. She had to have important reasons. She--

He slammed his hands on the table, leaning over the mirror. Wade choked back another heavy sob.

He definitely didn't want to see her leave all over again!

As Wade stood over the table, he shut his eyes, dripping tears onto the mirror. He didn't want this! He didn't want this…

He didn't want this wound open again. He didn't want to be reminded how much it hurt to have his sister gone.

Wade hung his head as he struggled for breath between sobs, barely composed enough to grasp for the mirror.

What he wanted. What was that?

With the small window into a more genuine world in front of him, Wade cried that this all couldn't be real. And he kept crying. Until finally he called back to the girl who looked like his sister.

"W-Where..." His throat knotted up as he tried to speak. Everything hurt. "Where... exactly is 'here'?" he asked.

She sighed. "In you, of course. This was how you always wanted things to play out. At least once in awhile. In fever dreams."

The world as he remembered it. Everything just as it was. Everything but the bad bits. The fighting; the leaving. Twisted, that his delusions of happiness could bring him such pain now.

"I wasn't lying though. I'm always here. In you. In how you live and the choices you've made. You're carving a life for yourself. You've pushed ahead against great pain. And you should be proud." She smiled. "Squirt, you should be proud you never stopped moving forward and pushing ahead."

She looked to the mirror and grinned. She picked it up and handed it to Wade. "I may not be a part of reality, but I'll always be a part of you."

Wade received the mirror with shaky hands. Rivera handed the mirror off to him, not once appearing in its reflection, despite being 'here' and smiling over his shoulder.

The 'here' that he stood in...

"All of this is... in me," he breathed, confirming that he got this. This was what he wanted... if everything could work out.

Wade sniffled. He had basically cried all of his tears so all he did was hiccup and brush loose tears from the mirror's surface. This time, he could believe what she had to say.

Looking into the reflection for real, he saw the reality he remembered, the one he knew Rivera wouldn't a part of. It was him, standing alone in a room with his eyes cried out.

Wade sniffed, then laughed at this. So this was... reality? He looked kind of pathetic in right now though, didn't he?

He took his sleeve and started wiping off his face. The older sister he had looked up was telling him that he had pushed ahead and to be proud...

Wade swallowed. Part of him was unable to accept this still. He was a mess, even if he tried to hide it from everyone he met. He felt like one, looking into the mirror. He wanted to keep crying but... there just weren't anymore tears to cry.

He knew that his sister was here, if only in... 'here.' Which was himself. He trusted what she said. He trusted... himself.

There wasn't anything more to cry about now.

Wade took a deep breath, a really deep breath, then looked up at his sister.

"Yeah, okay," he exhaled. Wade was still unsure of what to make of this --seeing what was inside the mirror and figuring out this was 'in him all along,'-- but he understood what he had to do. Push ahead.

"Why am I seeing this all now?" he asked.

"I can't say," she said. "That is, I don't know, Squirt. I just know what you know."

He was in a tunnel and things got darker until suddenly they weren't. Not much to go off of there.

Wade put his fist over his mouth, gears in his head cranking as thought.

"So you don't know... what I don't know," he stated. "But you can tell me things I wouldn't realize right away."

This room and this unreality were 'him', but it was a 'him' that he could talk to.

"Oh, uhm," Wade's eyes darted sheepishly. "Am I just... kind of talking to myself right now?"

"If you want to see it that way," Rivera said. "Though I'd say it's more accurate to say you're talking to a memory of how I was. And I would say not to think about it too hard!"

She playfully bopped him on the head.

"When you're ready to go, just leave through the door. I can say that, at least. But remember... I'll always be here for you."

"Wait, hold on! No, I--!" Wade reached out for Rivera's sleeve, but stopped himself from finishing his sentence.

All she had suggested was that there was a way out of this room. This wasn't a cause to panic. Okay. Okay.

Wade pulled his hand back, looking embarrassed. He still... he didn't want to see her go. Or see himself out. Not yet.

"I... I know you're a memory," he stammered. He probably realized this from the very moment he had stepped into the room. He still... tried to make her stay, even if it wasn't real, and was possibly hallucinating in the middle of some tunnel. That might have actually been dumb.

"I-I..." Wade struggled with something to say. She wasn't real but, it was nice to... see her? To remember her? Well, kind of, it was sort of traumatizing actually.

"I.... I uh." He looked around the floor, searching for what to say. Like, that it was... okay that this wasn't real and that he'd kind of been upset about that, but she was here now. So...

He gave up with words. Wade leaned into Rivera, almost resembling a hug. "Mggrhm," he incoherently groaned through her jacket, lazily stretching his arms around to grab her.

"Mggrhm to you too, squirt," Rivera chuckled.

Her hug was real. For now, that's all that mattered. There would be time to go back eventually. But for now, this was all there needed to be.

When Wade opened his eyes, Rivera was gone. But that was okay. He knew she would be here if he needed her.

What now?

 

[ReedRGale]

@Hesoca

​

Spoiler: Maximillian de Re

PUSH IT ALL AWAY

The door disappeared. As Max had commanded, chunks of his room faded. The door splintered into pieces and with it, the sound of his father in the background.

The posters fractured into pixelated bits. A chunk of the bed imploded into nothing. The secrets under the bed vanished. Drinks clattered to the floor before the cans dematerializing. The desk looked like someone took a bite out of it. Floorboards disappeared. Book titles corrupted to garbled strings.

And yet the mirror withheld.

Max walked up to the infernal thing. Gone. It should be gone. GONE.

The wall where the door was exploded soundlessly, leaving behind a nothing. Total and absolute blackness. But that didn't matter. The mirror persisted.

Gone.

The posters fizzled, their images going from a smattering of image artifacts to rectangular holes of blackness. But that didn't matter. The mirror persisted.

Gone!

The bed creaked as a force unknown to it punctured its unreality. But that didn't matter. The mirror persisted.

Gone!

The desk flickered out. Didn't matter. Mirror persisted.

GO AWAY!

The room finally disappeared altogether. All that was left was Max and the mirror floating a few feet in front of him. Not hovering. There was no gravity. It just looked at him. He just looked at him.

In his image, he was a child wearing a comically-made superhero suit. His child-self was crying. Weeping. bawling. Weak. Helpless. Alone in a floating world of nothing.

Just him and the mirror. Him and his reflection.

What now?

@Banshee

Spoiler: Alga Sargasso

Alga ==> Faint

Everything stopped. Just as she wished it.

And when she woke up, she was home. Home and safe and alone.

It wasn’t too hard to reason what had happened. After all, she was tucked in. Someone must have figured out where she lived. Her grandparents must have picked her up.

At her side was her guitar case… and at her feet was another guitar case. One of these, the case taken from the otherworld, persisted. And just as that had persisted, so too did the mirror.

She didn’t need to get out of bed to confirm that. It lay right next to her. Right in her vision as she woke up.

She was tucked in. Warm. Cozy. Home.

The Seer didn’t want to see. But now she knew she could.

She felt like she had been sleeping an eternity. Her body, racked with nerves, refused to let her sleep, though she tried.

What now?

@VeryButter

Spoiler: Magabelle Yyouni

Mag ==> Talk to Suitless Tieless

"Well, if you don't want to fight, then there should be no problems," Mag said. "I won't be here for long. I'll be gone the moment I figure out how to go into that ... floor door."

She stepped forward cautiously and the man pulled out his N-Zap again.

"I'm sorry little lady, but I can't let you though. That's my job. Just go. I'll even let you know if who you're looking for comes by as stupidly as you are right now."

Mag glared at him, contemplating that. She shouldn't trust this man's word. Yet it was tempting to, just to get a break.

She strengthened her glare. "You don't know who I'm looking for and you don't know who--you don't have a means to contact me. I don't know you. How would you plan on doing that?"


"You come back here," he pointed to the door. "Ask me every once in awhile. And I'll tell you. I'm just supposed to keep people out. I'm not supposed to not tell you anything."


Silence. Mag thought about the offer and kept her eyes on the man. Magabelle knew well enough that this man could beat her in a fight. To try and break through him—this man acting as a roadblock to her goals—would be a dangerous and futile endeavor. And while she was entirely willing to under normal circumstances...

Gah. Was she really willing to falter so easily to some stupid, undressed buisnessman? She had to keep going this way. It was her only lead on Alga's—

"Fine," she finalized her decision, stopping the second-guessing argument in her head before it was too late. She kept her weapon raised as she undid the step from before. She'll find another way.


"Missy, I'd prefer if we stopped fighting. I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just give me one second," he stopped, looking thoughtful. "There were a few people who came in here before. One with pink ink. One with brown ink. Two with beanies, male and female. The first two were inkling. One of the beanies was an Inkling, but the other was an Octoling pretending. There was a smear in his mask."

"They went into that hatch I closed off. I closed it off because that area is particularly dangerous. When I went down to investigate and warn them, they were already gone. Presumably they had taken a kettle--one of the dangerous things down there, young lady--and found themselves randomly transported to random locations on a one way trip to Octo Valley."


Magabelle stopped as soon as she heard 'brown ink'. The lead was right. Alga had been here. Alga was—

Immediately vetoing her final decision, she brought the ink pistol back into a fully ready position, her hand painfully pressing against the grip of it. "Let me through."


"Little lady, I would love to, but I can't. Also, didn't you get the memo? They. Aren't. Here."


"But they left through something in this house," Mag retorted, her voice raising, "Unless you find me another way into the valley, I will not leave until you let. Me. THROUGH."


"I don't know how much clearer I can make it. I have rigged that entrance this time. If you take more steps further, it will kill you," he explained, calmly.

"I'm trying to be helpful and, ma'am, with all due respect, you're trying to do something illegal in the first place. As did your acquaintances. Breaking and entering. Threats of violence. These two are enough for you to be sent to juvie. I'm being terribly lenient here, missy and I would prefer that you treat me with the respect that I feel I should have earned."

He wasn't wrong.

She glared. He wasn't, no. And Magabelle, somewhere in her mind, realized she was digging herself a bigger hole every time her stubbornness--her stupidity--made her keep doing this.

She was just about ready to yell at the man, but gritted her teeth instead. She didn't care about the law. She didn't care about getting caught, or somehow ruining whatever her reputation was.

Magabelle cared about no longer being able to find Alga.

"...Fine," she forced herself to answer, stepping away and loosening the grip she had on the pistol and attempting to cool herself down from her rabid, stubborn state, "Just... fine."

She started to lower the pistol as she held the door, and, with no further talking, almost slammed the back door on him again. ...fine.

It was just Mag and the night. The dark, dark night. She had no way to know how to get to Octo Valley, though she reckoned Spyke knew. But was it the time for that?

Surely she couldn't go home. She could try to bust in again or sneak into the house, but there weren't really any other option that she knew about. Deep Ones...

She needed to get to Octo Valley though. She knew that getting to Inkopolis would be a prerequisite for that, at least. It was, after all, closer.

((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))

Reminders:

Posts are Due: I think we've got this at this point.
Gm Post will be Made: Ibid.

Spoiler: Available Actions Reminder

Will be Responded to in GM Post:
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]

Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]

Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]

 

[Hesoca]

Spoiler: Maximillian di Rè

In nothingness, Max stood.

It was quiet. Movement left no reaction; speech left no sound. The void repeated unending, an endless darkness that swallowed his vision. Nothing was left. Nothing but that mirror.

Stateless and floating, Max curled into himself, his eyes shut. Even in the formlessness, the mirror's presence was inescapable. He could feel its gaze boring into his back; the reflection of his chokes and whimpers rewound and played indefinitely. It was mean. Weak and crying and lonely and silent and mean. And there was no way to hide. No way to escape it.

Through tears, he peeked up and stared into the mirror. In the glass, his face contorted with chokes and whimpers; his body quivered with shallow gasps. The costume he wore was a gross parody, gaudy and colorful admist the nothingness.

He looked away, wincing. Yet the scene remained as aftervision; his vision shook, and the red of that uniform continued to-

...Wait.

He blinked, returning to the reflection. His eyes traced the colors of the costume. Red. A red suit. He'd seen that suit before.

Carefully, he uncoiled from himself, his eyes scanning the uniform. Red formed its primary color; neon yellow wrapped in bands around its cuffs and collar. It had a cape, and gloves and boots. And in its center laid a grand emblem, a heroic "GH" emblazioned in shimmering gold.

Great Hero, a memory said. That's what it stands for.

Something compelled his hand forward; unmoving, his reflection watched as he traced along the edge of the emblem with his fingers. In the movement, he could see a younger version of himself with a marker in hand, christening the letters in wild and determined strokes. It had drawn it all: the costume, the emblem, the hero wearing it. And it was only once it was sufficiently satisfied with its work that it lifted its creation in the air for all to see.

Max stared, awestruck. And it was then that he felt it; a gentle pair of hands resting on his shoulder, and the presence of his mother leaning beside his head.

"The Great Hero of Inkopolis," she read, quietly smiling, "Oh? Who's that?"

The vision cracked into a wide grin. "It's you!"

"Me?" And in the nothingness, he watched as they laughed and leaned together, the drawing shared in their hands.

Quietly, the vision faded; his hand returned to the side. In the mirror, his gaze met his reflection. And, staring into the glass, at its costume and emblem, he felt himself speak.

"You stole it."

He shook, a rising fury running through his veins.

"You stole it...!"

In a sudden burst, he pivoted toward the mirror, gripping it in both hands by the edge of its frame. His movements trailed sparks of anger, lighting the darkness in flare-like jolts.

"Y-you can't have that!" He shouted, towering over the mirror and pointing at the suit, "It's not yours! You can't... you d-don't deserve to...! G-Give it back!"

In the mirror, his reflection remained unmoving; he clawed at the glass, desperately trying to pull it from the frame.

"Give it back to me!" He screamed, "Give me back my room! Give me back my mom! Give it back! Give it back!"

GIVE IT BACK AND GO AWAY

 

[Banshee]

It didn't matter if she couldn't sleep, or if she was still something of a mess. She had gotten what she wanted; tucked under thick quilted bedsheets, she was safely stowed away in the confines of her house, the scent a welcome and relaxing familiarity to her senses.

Alga made no move at all to get out of bed, though she shifted a little bit to glance at the guitar case lying on the floor for a moment. There was a question in her mind wondering what her grandparents might have thought of it before she cast it away. Replicas existed. They probably didn't care.

Hunkering herself down into the blankets, bringing the up to her chin and curling into the warmth, she stared at the mirror beside her head uncertainly and reached out to grasp the handle, hand barely peeking out from beneath the covers. Tentatively, she turned it and looked. It had all felt like a dream...

Examine: Mirror

 

[ReedRGale]

Alga ==> Examine: Mirror

Alga, unsurprisingly, turned to see her own reflection. Maybe it had all been a dream. After all, it was more crazy to believe that she was now suddenly home and safe and more realistic that none of it had ever happened.

Doesn't matter. She's safe now. That's all that matters.

She stared at her own eyes looking at her from the mirror. Then, the her in the mirror grinned. No. That wasn't right. The word grinned.

A tentative hand peeked out from the reflected bedsheet and waved back at her.