thescpfoundation: (Default)
ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴘ ғᴏᴜɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ([personal profile] thescpfoundation) wrote in [community profile] scp_30082022-04-08 11:30 am

APRIL 2022 SCP DIVERGENCE MEME: ROUND ONE KICKOFF

ᴛʜᴇ sᴄᴘ ғᴏᴜɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ
a recurring horror-comedy meme with optional continuity
PREMISE


The SCP Foundation is a fictional organization featured in an archive of short horror stories about strange or terrifying places, objects, and creatures. Knowledge of the SCP foundation is not required to enjoy this meme.

SCP Divergence is a meme/TDM/game hybrid, intended to take the best aspects of each and put them together. It will have the consistency of a game, the prompts of a TDM, and the freedom of a meme. There is a fixed setting, but new posts will have updated options and/or a light, optional ongoing plot that you can choose to engage with as much or as little as you want.

This meme is designed to give you the foundation to carry CR over like a typical game if you want to, but it's entirely up to you. Pick and choose your continuity, retcon your characters into the setting, play your hardcore AUs, your doubles, and your location-native OCs. Burn the whole game down in one-off threads and pretend it never happened at next month's luncheon prompt. Participate in the first meme, disappear for six months, and pick back up again as though no time has passed and your character never left. The world is your oyster.
warnings : violence, death, psychological horror
SETTING INFORMATION


WELCOME TO SCP-3008!

Perhaps you were walking through a real Ikea, or skateboarding through the halls of your spaceship. Perhaps you were taking a moonlit stroll through Narnia, or your TARDIS abruptly crash-landed. Maybe you were sleeping, or maybe you died. Whatever the case, where you are is almost certainly not where you were. It very much resembles the interior of your standard Ikea store, until you try to find the exit. No matter how much walking you do, the space seems to stretch on and on. It's believed that SCP-3008 may be infinite, eventually branching off into an endless series of backrooms.

Don't worry (much), you aren't alone. People have been wandering into SCP-3008 and getting lost for decades. New generations have been born here, and have never seen the world outside. Some residents swear their friends or family lived a life outside of SCP-3008, but when questioned these people are convinced they have always lived in this liminal Ikea. Over the course of your search for an exit, you may stumble upon one of the few small settlements formed by these survivors.

Perimeter walls or barriers have been constructed out of repurposed desks or kitchen fixtures. Residences have been crafted out of bedroom furniture displays. Communal showers have been erected by the public restrooms. Markets and inter-settlement trade routes have been established. People barter goods or services in exchange for crafts made from available furniture and resources, or one of the strange objects found during exploration. The Ikea restaurants are regularly restocked with the store's standard menu. Nobody is quite sure how or when, because it only happens when no one is watching. Food and water is (somewhat) regularly replenished, though there have been incidents where weeks have passed without new supplies, leading to rationing, dehydration, starvation, or death. The lights have a timed schedule, creating a rudimentary day/night cycle. It's certainly a less than ideal retirement location, but generally speaking, it's not that bad.

At least, if it weren't for The Staff - also known as SCP-3008-2.

Apart from minor variations, The Staff all look the same: roughly seven feet tall, no discernible face, unsettlingly long limbs, and disproportionately large hands, wearing the traditional Ikea employee uniform. During the day, The Staff are docile and largely unresponsive. They're infrequently sighted meandering through the store, and are only hostile if harmed.

Night is a different story. Once the lights turn off for the evening, The Staff changes. Any D-Class they discover will be immediately engaged upon. They will speak, but only say one thing: t̶h̴e̵ ̷s̸t̶o̵r̶e̷ ̴i̴s̶ ̶n̷o̵w̵ ̷c̵l̵o̵s̶e̶d̷,̶ ̶p̸l̴e̷a̵s̸e̸ ̶e̸x̵i̴t̶ ̷t̸h̷e̵ ̸b̴u̷i̸l̵d̷i̶n̷g̷.

They do not intend to escort anyone to the door. If caught, victims have had limbs maimed or necks snapped in seconds with seemingly little effort. The Staff occasionally cluster in groups, especially when they happen upon a settlement. Survivors are regularly forced to fend off nighttime attacks, and can now generally do so with very few casualties. Any remaining body parts of fallen Staff members must be disposed of promptly. The presence of limbs or corpses tends to lead to higher Staff numbers and increasingly higher aggression the following night.

*hover zalgo text for easier reading

NETWORK USAGE
Cellphone service does not generally extend beyond the walls of SCP-3008.

Although D-Class may be able to access the internet, content only seems to flow in rather than out. Personnel have been able to access YouTube & Wikipedia, but attempts to post comments or send messages have failed. For those who may be arriving without phones, cheap prepaid phones can be found in the electronics sections.

Personnel will find that an app has managed to install itself on their phone, tablet, or medieval magic mirror. Inside the app are a series of labelled icons.

D-Class Forum – Allows users to make public, social media style posts available to anyone with the app.

D-Class Directory – Most of the time, the names of survivors stranded in SCP-3008 will show up on this list. There are standard options like calling, texting, group messages, and video chats.

New Personnel Archives – Assumed to have been compiled and maintained by D-Class personnel. It contains basic information about the setting and other typical game mechanics.

SCP Directory – A short list of archive entries that offer details about possible detected, known SCPs within range. Beneath it is a very long, greyed-out list of locked entries that seem to be inaccessible.

Research Submissions – A place for personnel to document new information about SCPs they find to submit to the Foundation.

ANNOUNCEMENT
Once per month the app will alert users of a critical notification. A public post has been made by a user not found in the directory.

@THE SCP FOUNDATION
Greetings, new D-Class personnel. We at the Foundation are aware of your current predicament and are doing everything within our power to return you to your point of origin. At this time, rescue attempts have been unsuccessful. Please remain patient as we investigate this issue.

Note that any reports of containment breaches are inaccurate. Rest assured, per the official statement of the O5 Council, the Foundation remains in full control of all previously contained anomalies.

We are aware of new and duplicate anomalies appearing within SCP-3008, and information about these anomalies may prove useful for your rescue. Consequently, temporary D-Class employment status has been applied to all new arrivals. Known details about nearby detected anomalies will be made available in the SCP Directory archives. Any new research and documentation submitted by D-Class personnel will be rewarded via Matter Delivery Pod.

Thank you for your cooperation.

ANOMALIES


THE FOLLOWING SCP ARCHIVES ARE CURRENTLY AVAILABLE TO D-CLASS PERSONNEL:

SCP-294 — "THE COFFEE MACHINE"
ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴄʟᴀss: EUCLID
ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs: Item SCP-294 appears to be a standard coffee vending machine, the only noticeable difference being an entry touchpad with buttons corresponding to an English QWERTY keyboard. Upon depositing fifty cents US currency into the coin slot, the user is prompted to enter the name of any liquid using the touchpad. Upon doing so, a standard 12-ounce paper drinking cup is placed and the liquid indicated is poured.
ɴᴏᴛᴇᴡᴏʀᴛʜʏ ɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛs: On August 21, 2005, Agent Joseph ██████ attempted to use Item SCP-294 to obtain coffee during his allotted break time at 9:30 AM. at the request of Agent █████ █████████ "to see what it would do", ██████ requested "a cup of Joe" from the item. Moments after confirming the selection, Agent Joseph ██████ began to sweat profusely and complained of dizziness before collapsing. After moving the unconscious agent to the infirmary, the medical team recovered the contents of the cup dispensed by Item SCP-294: a combination of blood, tissue, and other bodily fluids. Testing revealed the DNA sequence of the biological material dispensed by SCP-294 matched that of Agent ██████.

SCP-131 — "EYE PODS"
ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴄʟᴀss: SAFE
ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs: SCP-131-A and SCP-131-B (affectionately nicknamed the "Eye Pods" by personnel) are a pair of teardrop-shaped creatures roughly 30 cm in height, with a single blue eye in the middle of their bodies. SCP-131-A is burnt orange in color while SCP-131-B is mustard yellow. At the base of each creature is a wheel-like protrusion which allows for locomotion, suggesting that the creatures may be biomechanical in origin. The subjects can move surprisingly fast, covering over 60 m (200 ft) in a matter of seconds. The subjects, however, lack a braking system, which has led to some rather spectacular, if not overly amusing, mishaps involving the creatures.

The subjects seem to have the intelligence of common house cats and are insatiably curious. Most of the time they simply roll around the facility, observing personnel at work and catching peeks at other Safe class SCPs. The subjects seem to be able to communicate with each other via an untranslatable high-pitched babbling. The subjects have never been observed to blink, even in laboratories when the subjects have been videotaped for over 18 consecutive hours.

The subjects seem to respond well to any affection given to them and will quickly bond to the giver of said affection, much in the same way a puppy bonds with a human being. They will follow anyone or anything they've made a bond with anywhere, even into normally restricted areas. Although curious, the subjects can sense danger in their general vicinity, and if the object of their bond begins to approach something they register as dangerous (e.g., Euclid or Keter class objects) they will swarm around their bonded companion's feet (or appropriate extremities) while babbling in a panicked tone, as if to warn them.

SCP-3288 — "THE ARISTOCRATS"
ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴄʟᴀss: KETER
ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs: SCP-3288 designates a highly predatory species or subspecies of the genus Homo (Homo anthropophagus). SCP-3288 display a number of abnormal characteristics and behaviors that distinguish them from the baseline species. The most common deviations include:
  • Acute hyperdontia and macrodontia; an instance of SCP-3288 has teeth approximately six times the size of normal adult teeth with more than sixty teeth unevenly distributed over six distinct rows, requiring jaws much larger than that of baseline humans
  • Gross mandibular prognathism
  • Fluctuating facial asymmetry
  • Dolichostenomelia of the arms; an instance of SCP-3288 commonly has arms more than twice the length of a baseline human of similar height
  • Arachnodactyly and polydactyly
  • Kyphosis
  • Abnormal muscle strength despite having the appearance of severe emaciation
  • Albinism
  • Superior low-light vision and heterochromia iridum (specifically complete heterochromia); the eyes are notably reflective and their colors range from blue, red, purple, and yellow
  • A reliance on both bipedal and quadrupedal locomotion
  • Abnormally rapid physical growth and development; this results in a 2 to 3 week gestation period with sexual maturity being reached within 16 to 20 months
  • Gottschall-Gärtner syndrome, primarily manifesting on the hands and fingers
  • Alopecia universalis
  • Acute photophobia; direct exposure to sunlight will result in both physical and psychological damage
  • Mental instability primarily characterized by delusions of grandeur and malignant narcissism
  • An addiction to human flesh that takes on biological and psychological components
ɴᴏᴛᴇᴡᴏʀᴛʜʏ ɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛs: The Foundation became aware of SCP-3288 while investigating reports of unexplained disappearances in Vienna. It was discovered that these incidents occurred in close proximity to sewer holes and access tunnels and primarily targeted the most vulnerable of the population such as prostitutes, unsupervised children, transients, and inebriated or otherwise indisposed individuals.

*lesser known medical terminology contains hover-text with a brief description

SCP-504 — "BAD JOKE TOMATOES"
ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴄʟᴀss: SAFE
ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟs:SCP-504 is a species of tomato physically and genetically identical to that of the typical commercially-grown tomato. When a poor attempt at humor is made verbally within human hearing range of SCP-504's tomatoes, they instantly accelerate to a speed of at least 100 miles per hour (approx. 160 kilometers per hour, 45 meters per second) in the direction of the sound's source. SCP-504 tomatoes seem to reach speeds relative to the inciting attempt at humor. Relevant variables seem to include corniness, humor-to-length ratio, and use of puns. Language appears irrelevant.
ᴛᴇsᴛ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ʟᴏɢs:
Item: One mature SCP-504 tomato
Subject: D-504-1
Spoken: "Is a hippopotamus a hippopotamus or just a really cool opotamous?"
Result: No change in velocity.

Item: One mature SCP-504 tomato
Subject: D-504-1
Spoken: "What's an archeologist? Someone whose career is in ruins."
Result: Tomato clocked at 124 mph. Subject suffered a broken nose.


REWARDS
D-Class personnel that explore, research, document, or otherwise assist the Foundation will receive rewards via spontaneously appearing metal tubes of different shapes and sizes called Matter Delivery Pods. These rewards could range from something completely useless to something invaluable – or, very rarely, something dangerous. The latter is often a passive-aggressive punishment for inappropriate behavior or bad submissions.
Examples of Matter Delivery rewards:
  • a seemingly unbreakable dining fork
  • photos of loved ones from home nobody remembers taking
  • bottles of prescription painkillers or other substances
  • Captain America's shield
  • a loaded gun
  • live carnivorous squirrels
  • Blu-ray copies of Spider-Man 3
  • a big red button with no description or instructions

No information on how these rewards are decided upon or produced has been given so far. The Foundation social media account will not respond to inquiries.

RESOURCES & NOTES
It is highly recommended that you tag this post in the same way you would a TDM or game event – with optional prompts in your top level. However, you are welcome to post a blank top level like a standard meme if you prefer.

The purpose behind this experimental format is to give players freedom to have fun in any way they like. Please feel free to conform to the setting mechanics as much or as little as suits your threads. Continuity errors can be easily written off as anomalies – your best friend dying or your grand, successful escape could be completely reverted for next round's meme. Ignore it entirely, or allow your characters to experience the psychological horror of being stuck in a supernatural looping limbo.

I am currently accepting feedback on this post. If it contains too much information or too little, if the format was legible and easy to consume, or if you have ideas for alternate mechanics & delivery methods, please leave me a message here. I may not respond to all comments, depending on my availability. New round memes will be posted approximately every month – but this is extremely flexible. Feel free to subscribe to the community to be notified of new posts, which will also be linked on [community profile] bakerstreet.

Below are some helpful links. It is not necessary for you to read these to begin playing.
What is the SCP foundation?
The SCP Foundation wiki
Feedback & issue reporting
Featured SCP & plot suggestions
Volunteer to contribute
Where did you get the frog?
callmejesse: (Determined)

@JesseFaden

[personal profile] callmejesse 2022-04-10 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
I'm searching for members of the Federal Bureau of Control. I'm aware that we're probably outside of the FBC's usual scope at the moment, but if there are any employees that fell in here, I need them to contact me right now.

Please also be aware that if you encounter anyone in the store floating and chanting in odd sentences, you should get away from them immediately and contact me. I can help with that, at least.
Edited 2022-04-10 01:50 (UTC)
mischiefandlies: (Kanye shrug)

@LowkeyUnimpressed

[personal profile] mischiefandlies 2022-04-10 09:23 am (UTC)(link)
Not an illustrious member of your Federal Bureau of Control. Sounds like a pretty prestigious thing to be part of. Claiming to be an organisation of control. I might be overstepping, but it looks like you might not be as in control as you think you are. Just a hunch.

As for your odd chanting, I mean, I've been known to float around chanting what you people might think are odd sentences. Nonsense, even. But that's just who I am as a


person.

Do these floaty chanty people have anything to do with the lunatics running around the halls demanding we leave because the store is closed? Or are they another fun group of nutters?

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1926: (Tartan Collar)

@AarthurJAardvark

[personal profile] 1926 2022-04-10 09:51 am (UTC)(link)
Any one else around here with, shall I say, superpowers, that seem to have found that even with said superpowers, you can't quite just apparate anywhere but locations around here? Asking for a friend. Merely curious if my friend is just experiencing "performance issues".

Signed, Your Friendly Neighbourhood Aardvark.
callmejesse: (Altered Items)

@JesseFaden

[personal profile] callmejesse 2022-04-10 02:18 pm (UTC)(link)
I can't apparate or teleport, but I do have a couple of things. They seem to be working fine, which is actually a little weird.

Let me guess, your friend tried to get you both out of here and it didn't work?
midsommaring: (wish i'd been)

@themayqueen

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-04-16 12:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Please.
I don't know where I am. I mean, I'm here, obviously. In this... place. This store? But I don't remember getting here. Or coming here.
All I know is that it was summer, and I was in Sweden.
I can't seem to find any windows, or any doors.

If anyone else is out there, can you tell me where we are?
callmejesse: (Check)

@JesseFaden

[personal profile] callmejesse 2022-04-17 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
Hi, May Queen. I'm Jesse. I think anyone who arrives here is showing up the same way. I don't remember coming here, either. I think this 'store' is separate from normal life, kind of like a hole in reality we've all fallen into. It might be hard to find our way out, but we are looking for an exit. You're not alone.

I don't have a map of this place yet, or I'd give you a location. It'd be good to meet up. Check inside the tents if you find them, though. I've ended up there a couple times.

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midsommaring: (Default)

[personal profile] midsommaring 2022-04-17 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
What is the feeling about OCs?
illegalgenetics: (Surprise)

Julian Bashir | Star Trek: DS9

[personal profile] illegalgenetics 2022-04-08 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Arrival [OOC: Feel free to bump into him while he's flustered upon arrival.]
[There had been an emergency medical call to Ops, so Julian grabbed his medical case and initiated a sight-to-sight transport. Unfortunately, where he materialised wasn't in Ops. No, he stood in the middle of... a store? It looked a bit archaic compared to what he was used to, but it had a bit of charm. The Chief Medical Officer tapped his commbadge on his chest and it chirped, awaiting his voice,]

Bashir to Ops. [No response. So he tapped it and tried again.] Bashir to O'Brien? [Nope, nada.] Bashir to Sisko?

[The doctor set the medical case down and pulled the tricorder off his hip, flipping it open to scan his surroundings. The readings made absolutely zero sense. He read anywhere from dozens to hundreds to thousands of life forms, the number fluctuating rapidly. Energy sources spiked all over the place with no localisation. The data padd chimed in his case and he knelt down to open it and check it, finding a message that appeared to have been broadcast to the padd as well as an unusual network app that had been downloaded. He wasn't going to question just why or how it had bypassed the security of the device.]

Not again...


Tea Time
[Julian had been exploring for the past several hours, finding no end to the building he seemed to have found himself in and had been thoroughly uncomfortable with the "locals" that patrolled the area, he bumped into a coffee machine. It seemed innocuous enough. In his travels, he'd happened upon a few ancient earth quarters. He'd only ever seen them in coin collections and museums. The machine itself seemed to take the currency, but he was wary.

There was an SCP report lying on the table nearby, so Julian picked it up and gave it a quick read. It seemed to function as an archaic sort of replicator if he understood correctly, but one had to be specific. So, he gave it a try.

Inserting the coins, he typed "Tarkalean tea extra sweet" into the keyboard. To his surprise, the paper cup filled with what smelled and looked just like the familiar warm liquid. Dare he drink it, though?

Someone passed by and Julian looked up from the cup.]


Excuse me, have you used this thing before?


It's Getting Late...
[He'd been looking around when he came across a small yellow lifeform with a large eye. It swivelled around him before bumping into his ankles almost excitedly. Julian knelt down and scanned the excitable thing with the tricorder. The readings made no more sense now than they had earlier, so he put it away and reached a hand out. The small critter excitedly spun around then bumped up into his hand.]

Well, you don't seem so bad. Strange, but cute.

[Since then, the small yellow critter had been following around him, occasionally bumping into his feet or the walls when it got too excited. He'd chat at it, because goodness knows, Julian can't keep his mouth shut and it at least provided someone to converse with, even if it was one sided. All was well until he approached a darker corridor and the little yellow critter started racing circles around his legs making sounds that he couldn't comprehend and his UT couldn't translate. It seemed frantic...

Out of the darkness, one of the strange beings that had been wandering around the store started approaching him pointedly. It spoke, "Th̴e̵ ̷s̸t̶o̵r̶e̷ ̴i̴s̶ ̶n̷o̵w̵ ̷c̵l̵o̵s̶e̶d̷,̶ ̶p̸l̴e̷a̵s̸e̸ ̶e̸x̵i̴t̶ ̷t̸h̷e̵ ̸b̴u̷i̸l̵d̷i̶n̷g̷." and Julian started slowly backing up, the little yellow teardrop did the same.]


I'd leave if I could find an exit. I don't suppose you-- [It grabbed Julian's upper arm in a crushing grip that nearly broke bone. The doctor instinctively struck the wrist, breaking the grip, and started backpedalling much faster. He didn't have to look to know the grip had left him with contusions and likely a fracture. When the thing started to reach for him again, he turned and ran with the small yellow SCP keeping perfect pace with him. Down halls and across rooms, he ducked into a darker area of the store, bumping into someone...]


[OOC: Or, WILDCARD! Feel free to find him anywhere, wandering about, being a dork. Or if you're hurt, feel free to have your character find him. He'll do what he can with the equipment he has on him!

Also, feel free to flip to Prose. I just used brackets because most prefer them!]
joanna_mccoy: (271)

Arrival

[personal profile] joanna_mccoy 2022-04-09 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
[Joanna had been on the surface of a planet about to walk into a cave when she found herself inside... not a cave. She was in her uniform and boots, phaser and tricorder at either hip. Immediately she pulled the phaser free and began to walk. It wasn't until she heard a voice calling out that she moved towards it. He almost looked... yes, Starfleet. But what in the hell was he wearing?]

Starfleet?

[He hasn't noticed her yet and she doesn't lower her phaser when her voice breaks through the silence.]

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callmejesse: (But why tho)

It's Getting Late...

[personal profile] callmejesse 2022-04-09 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ Jesse had been walking at a quick pace, muttering curse words even before she ran into Julian. Of course, the appearance of another person changes her priorities a bit. She possibly comes off as fairly intimidating, seeing as she's holding a pistol in her right hand that seems to have a constantly shifting barrel (somehow). At least she seems to have it pointed at the ground and not at anything else.

But as she looks him up and down, she notices he seems injured. Her stance relaxes, even when the weird creature comes into view behind him. She tries for a smile and only manages not to grimace. ]


Hi, I'm Jesse. Are you okay? What happened?

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Sorry for the delay!

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No problem!

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No worries!

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cryptoherpetology: (6)

tea time

[personal profile] cryptoherpetology 2022-04-09 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ Alex is starting to wonder if a penchant for transdimensional journeys was a genetic trait, given he knows for a fact that he's not the first member of his family this has happened to. This place doesn't seem to be like any of the worlds Grandma Alice told him or wrote about, and not in a way he's terribly excited to be exploring.

It isn't the strangeness that's unnerving him, but the familiarity. The maze-like display rooms, the aisles, even the uniforms on the... beings that ambled around the space. It set him on edge in a way that wasn't entirely unlike being in a swamp with an unknown quantity of very well-hidden alligators. It has him wanting to reach for the gun hidden under his tweed jacket, or at the very least one of the throwing knives, but given how many voices he's heard in the distance, he'd rather not risk scaring (or shooting) anyone who isn't a threat.

He's following one of the lumbering Staff members when movement and a voice catch his attention. A human (or human-looking, he silently adds to himself) man in what looks like some kind of uniform asks him something, and he almost has to ask him to repeat himself. It takes Alex what feels like minutes for him, but is probably a second or two at best to shift his focus, trying not to show too much of his cautious relief at finding someone else who seems to be in the same situation. ]


Huh? I mean, not that one, but I've used them- oh, wait-

[ He corrects himself mid-answer on spotting the subtle differences between this machine and the ones he's used to finding in staff break rooms and lower-end hotel lobbies. He finds the report and reads it quickly enough, shaking his head to change his answer. ]

Huh. And I thought the theatre lobby soda machines were getting excessive.

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taediosum: (Default)

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas | ota

[personal profile] taediosum 2022-04-09 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
arrival.
[ A stranger in a dirty lab coat is probably not the most auspicious of sightings, considering the general circumstances of the displaced, here - but the dirt is just dirt, the long worn-in end result of living hard in a desert clime, and other than his perhaps mildly remarkable height, Arcade looks overall about as intimidating as your average desk-bound medical researcher. The thick-rimmed glasses don't help.

Neither does the bemused look on his face as he cautiously navigates the labyrinth of aisles and set displays shaped like cramped, utilitarian rooms. (The latter still nicer than most of what he's used to, but eerie nonetheless.)

He can't say he's surprised to stumble on somebody else looking just as lost (this is some... weird... Vault trap thing, right?? why shouldn't there be others), but chances are they don't look like they're from anywhere near New Vegas. ]


Hey, no chance you're any closer to remembering how exactly we ended up here? Wherever, uh, here is...

coffee break.
[ Standing in front of the coffee machine, with a look of studious consideration on his face, Arcade looks - no, still just pretty much at a complete loss.

There are about five of those little eye pods gathered at his heels, in various colors, chattering idly in their high-pitched, indecipherable voices as he tries to decide whether this is also some kind of trap. Or puzzle. Or whatever it is that might lead to some answers, around here. (Less nonsensical, implausible ones, at any rate.) ]


Never thought I'd regret not carrying around pre-war money. I'm guessing this thing won't take caps. [ Though he might try it, anyway, just to say he did. Unless someone else happened to bring some change? ]

the aristocrats.
[ It's probably comparing deathclaws to cazadores, but if he had to choose, The Staff are a vastly more comforting presence than... these things. He'd consider himself lucky, not being the one currently cornered by a ravenous mutant looking for a snack - if he didn't have a conscience.

Fortunately, the rows of display cabinets between him and them provide good enough cover to get a shot off before he's seen, too. Hopefully the aristocrat's intended prey isn't too alarmed when their would-be attacker abruptly bursts into a vaporized puddle of glowing green goo. Also hopefully they don't get any of that potentially radioactive mess on them. Bigger concerns, though - more of those things are skittering around the aisles.

The pistol in his hands has the same conspicuous green glow emanating from the chamber beneath the barrel, as bright a signal as any as he leans out of cover to try and get their attention. ]
Hey—! Over here!
1926: (Let there be NO MO light)

Coffee Break

[personal profile] 1926 2022-04-10 10:03 am (UTC)(link)
Wh-uh, no. Can't say I have anything but a few quid on me.

[Crowley waved his hand with a bit of a casual flourish in the direction of the gentleman. He may have just "convinced" a few of the caps in Arcade's pocket into believing that they were actually quarters. Funny how that's all it took to change something into something else. Make it believe it was that thing. And people say miracles are hard.]

You might give your caps a try. Couldn't hurt, I'd say. [If Arcade decided to reach into his pocket, he'd probably immediately notice the pair of unusual pieces of "pre-war" currency.]

It also looks like you might have a bit of an infestation. Have you always been the leader of the tiny cyclops squad?

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mayormacfuckyou: (dmitry_martynov_049)

Mayor MacCready | Fallout

[personal profile] mayormacfuckyou 2022-04-09 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
a

[ MacCready doesn't remember how long he's been here, all he knows is that it's too fuckin' long. Once he realized that this was a problem that wasn't going to be solved anytime soon, he decided he would set up a small outpost to hunker down in.

He picked out a display that seemed to be mimicking a living room and kitchen — it was weird for him to see everything so...clean. Set up how he imagined the world looked before the bombs fell. He grabbed whatever big furniture he could drag on his own and set up a barricade so that the area is fully closed off, save for one spot where he would come in and out. He also set up a makeshift ladder out of tables and chairs that reach the florescent lights overhead, where he is currently sitting and taking in his surroundings. It's a very precarious ladder, but being as light as he is he isn't at much risk of knocking it down if he's careful.

Out front, there's a sign he made out of poster board and sharpies that he found, which reads: No mungos. Big people fuck off.

He added little doodles of skulls and crossbones.

If anyone gets too close to the entrance, they'll hear him from his little light-watch tower. Should they look up, they'll see a small child in army gear that's a bit too big pointing a sniper rifle right at them. ]


Hey asshole, you're too close. Back off or I'll blow your fuckin' head off.

[ However, if you're a kid or don't look like an adult, his warning will be less threatening. ]

This spot's taken! Get your own.

b

[ During one of his little expeditions to see if there was an end to this place, MacCready loses track of time and ends up walking around after hours. Once the lights go off, MacCready activates the flashlight he taped onto his rifle. Then he hears it.

"t̶h̴e̵ ̷s̸t̶o̵r̶e̷ ̴i̴s̶ ̶n̷o̵w̵ ̷c̵l̵o̵s̶e̶d̷,̶ ̶p̸l̴e̷a̵s̸e̸ ̶e̸x̵i̴t̶ ̷t̸h̷e̵ ̸b̴u̷i̸l̵d̷i̶n̷g̷."

Should someone happen upon MacCready, they will find him firing at an employee's head. Then another. Then — where the fuck are they coming from? ]


Fuckin' things!

[ At this rate he'll run out of ammo. But he's kind of getting boxed in as more come from every direction. ]


c

[ Wildcard! Feel free to make shit up, I'm 100% open. MacCready is a bit, uh, trigger happy, so if provoked enough he will definitely not hesitate to shoot, just an FYI. He's the worst. Prose or brackets are fine by me, no preference!]
mischiefandlies: (Uncomfortable)

[personal profile] mischiefandlies 2022-04-10 09:38 am (UTC)(link)
[There is a child pointing a gun at his head. Well, it's more of a sniper rifle, but a gun is a gun, isn't it? There is a child pointing a sniper at his cranium from atop his rickety looking tower.]

Oh. That sign wasn't just for the Hulk? Go figure. I did not know a little guy like me qualified as a "mungo".

[There is a sniper pointed at his head and he's yet to hold his hands up in surrender. There's a reason for that, but he's a cryptic godling that doesn't often make much sense at face value.]

So, are you going to just hide up there until you starve to death, or will you eventually come down to the convenient little buffet that seems to inhabit all Ikea stores for nourishment at some point? Because I do not think starving atop your wobbly kingdom is a good idea. Just saying.

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greatdeliverer: (oh would you go dispose)

A.

[personal profile] greatdeliverer 2022-04-30 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Jesus. Who gave the child a gun? Sam does back up a few steps though, raising his hands to show he means no harm.

The suit he's wearing has a pod attached to the front of it, with what looks to be (and is) a baby inside it, floating happily in the nutritional fluid the pod provides. Well, happily until she notices a gun pointed at them. Then she starts wailing as hard as her little lungs will let her, the sound piercing.]


I got my own spot. I was just passing through. No harm meant.

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misblamed: (grr)

Ganta Igarashi | Deadman Wonderland

[personal profile] misblamed 2022-04-10 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
a - arrival

BASTAAAARDS!!

[ The screaming's coming from a teenager - a kid, really, short and slight even by middle school standards. It's not clear who he thinks he's addressing, apparently not even to him, because he's whipping his head from side to side while he yells, like he thinks his captors might materialize out of the walls. And to be fair, who's to say they won't? There are obviously no rules anymore. ]

I've been doing all that sick crap you want from me! I'm DONE with your insane mind games! LET ME OUTTA HERE!

[ It's possibly important that said angry kid is wearing a prison jumpsuit, and also a big metal collar around his neck. Heck of a fashion statement. Anyway, come say hi? ]

b - settling in

[ Okay, you know what, it's fine. No one knows how they got here or who runs this place or if they have a chance in hell of ever getting out. It's fine. Extremely fine. ]

Heh. I guess I didn't think it was possible to wind up somewhere more hopeless than I was before.

[ Ganta perches awkwardly in a POÄNG armchair, nursing a coffee from the weirdly bottomless-seeming vending machine. At least that's one thing this new place has going for it. Cheap coffee.

A moment later, realizing he's maybe being weird, he musters a smile and turns to whoever's sitting next to him in their current makeshift camp.
]

Sorry, just... just thinking out loud. Where're you from?

c - wildcard

[ You can PM me if there's something else you want to do, or just comment and I'll roll with it!! ]
supercompacted: (Default)

a

[personal profile] supercompacted 2022-04-13 11:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Fred just got here, too, and would very much like to NOT be here. But with her work the way it is? She's not so surprised that something like this happened.

She follows the yelling and freezes for a moment when she comes across the kid. That neck collar? That's very not okay. She rushes up to him and bites her lip. ]


Okay, don't know where you came from- or where we are, really, other than some hell dimension Ikea- but I'll try to help you, okay? But we should probably be quiet if there is some evil mastermind, just in case they need to find us to do...things...

[ Fred wears a nice blouse and skirt combination, and she's already broken the modest heels off of her dress shoes. She looks agitated, but it's more worry for the teen in front of her than everything around her. ]

My name's Fred. Who're you?
Edited 2022-04-13 23:39 (UTC)
stations: (112)

Jack Townsend | Tales from the Gas Station

[personal profile] stations 2022-04-10 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
The Staff

( It's not every day you walk out of a gas station bathroom and into an Ikea. Of all the weird things to happen to him — and the list is very long — he can honestly say this is a new one. If this is the universe's passive-aggressive way of saying he needs to update his furniture, well, the universe is going to have to stay disappointed. There isn't really a point in replacing his coffee table when the world's likely to end in the near future — especially not on a gas station salary.

...he could maybe do with some new pillows though, now that he actually gets an hour of sleep every couple days. The ones he has are mostly dust mite habitats now. He's browsing through down feathered bedding when the lights abruptly switch off, and his eyes go searching around the place.
)

Hello?

( Called out politely over the suddenly claustrophobic shelves. )

Are you guys closed?

( Summoned by his voice, a member of The Staff rounds the corner. At first glance, something doesn't look... right. He's not really one to judge, he's seen inhuman things before that have been nicer than some of the people he knows, but he's also not stupid. He gears himself up with a curtain rod somebody abandoned in a nearby bin (an aside, fuck people who just leave their shit in random places around stores) and grips it tightly in one hand.

"t̶h̴e̵ ̷s̸t̶o̵r̶e̷ ̴i̴s̶ ̶n̷o̵w̵ ̷c̵l̵o̵s̶e̶d̷,̶ ̶p̸l̴e̷a̵s̸e̸ ̶e̸x̵i̴t̶ ̷t̸h̷e̵ ̸b̴u̷i̸l̵d̷i̶n̷g̷."
)

Oh. My bad. So the exit's... that way, right? I'll just... go now. Thanks.

( And then the employee starts literally galloping toward him on all fours. )

Oh shit.


Big Red Button

( As far as contributions go, Jack's was admittedly a little lackluster. He's been here a couple of days now, assembled himself a little bedroom out of partitions and display furniture, and spent a grand total of five minutes typing out his experience with The Staff in the notes section of his app. Apaprently it was enough to earn him a Matter Delivery Pod, though, because a drone politely hovers in on one while he's in the middle of eating and drops it directly on his dinner. )

Hey!

( He protests — the drone doesn't seem to care, and hovers off after a rather rude beep.

The matter delivery pod doors hiss open, and inside is a cardboard box. Inside the cardboard box, one big red button. He looks from it to the person sitting at a nearby dining table.
)

...What do you think it does?
cacoethical: (cap19661)

Big Red Button

[personal profile] cacoethical 2022-04-10 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[The obvious thing to do when trapped in one of these endless building impossible interior geometry pocket dimension dealies is to attempt to wait it out. Surprisingly transient, dimensions, and occasionally just the result of Dirk's having eaten too much ice cream too close to bedtime. He's not arguing that's what this is, but it certainly could be, and in the absence of any of his tempering impulses, the broad strokes of his investigative procedure thus far have involved a lot of sitting around and surrendering to abject hopelessness.

Er, waiting. Waiting to see if the bubble pops.

It's not like he's been ignoring his impulses. As best he can tell, if the Universe has any meaningful influence in this place at all, it's telling to spend absolutely all his time sitting in this room waiting for something interesting to happen. He defies it for bathroom breaks and showers and because he's indescribably bored, but always and forever, he winds up back here.

And then, miraculously, something interesting does happen.

And it's a Big. Red. Button.

And he's being asked about it.

Existential despair eat your heart out, this? Is great.
]

Oh! Well.

[He pushes his chair out with a loud scrape and wanders over, leaning forward with brows furrowed to examine the... thingy. No two ways about it, that is a thingy. Unequivocally.]

See, now, generally, in my experience, people find themselves confronted with one of these button thingies, very often big, almost always red, and they assume -- rightly or wrongly -- that if you press it it's going to do something sinister and awful like kill you or blow the building up and kill all of us or set off some kind of... button alarm that sets some manner of heavily-armed paramilitary anti-button-pressing team honing in on your position to take you to jail.

[He says all of this quite seriously and sympathetically, gesticulating and glancing between the button and Jack as he rambles.]

Personally, and I am always telling people this, I think it could be anything. Maybe it'll fill this room with hamsters. Maybe it's the button you press when you want to have a great day. Oh! Maybe this is the get out of here button and if you press it we'll all get to go home!

[The only reason he doesn't reach out to slam that sucker right now is there's a Todd in his head telling him not to. Shaking his head, doing absolutely fucking not eyes. With the brows, and all.]

It is a bit cliché though, isn't it?

[There's open disapproval and distaste in his voice, like the biggest fault here is a bad fashion choice and not the fact that this is a Big Red Button, with all the threat implicit in that.]
Edited (typo baybee) 2022-04-10 19:31 (UTC)
murderology: (012)

red button

[personal profile] murderology 2022-04-11 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Jerry, fortunately, still had his dinner. His dinner consisted entirely of a box of cookies, but it was still dinner. His brows furrow at the pod as he slides the box of cookies over to Jack now that his meal was crushed under a pod.

They're shitty cardboard tasting health cookies but what're you gonna do. ]


Maybe it's a detonator! [ Naturally, Jerry sounds way too enthusiastic at the possibility. ] Completely independently of that first thought — we should press it.

[ Just making that clear he does not want to press it because it may be a detonator! But the possibility also won't stop him. ]
greatdeliverer: (and throw it all away)

Big Red Button

[personal profile] greatdeliverer 2022-04-30 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
Uh. Considering this place so far? Probably nothing good.

[Sam's at least gotten out of his BRIDGES issued delivery suit, now that he's sure the environment isn't totally threatening, leaving him in a tanktop and cargo pants. The short sleeves of his shirt show off the dozens of overlapping what look to be handprints covering his shoulders and arms.

He sighs and moves his tray over to the kid's table, in case he decides to do something stupid. Like press the button.]


Leave it alone. Or better yet, chuck it.