CURSED - mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cursedmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
cursedrp2022-09-01 08:01 pm
cursedmods) wrote in cursedrp2022-09-01 08:01 pm
Entry tags:
- ace attorney: gregory edgeworth,
- cyberpunk 2077: v,
- danganronpa: fukawa toko,
- dceu: harley quinn,
- marvel comics: peter quill,
- mcu: wanda maximoff,
- oc: deely newburg,
- oc: vasiliy yegorovich ardankin,
- oc: wren fulton,
- ofmd: edward teach,
- ofmd: stede bonnet,
- oliver twist: nancy sikes,
- shadowhunters: alec lightwood,
- stargate atlantis: dr rodney mckay,
- stargate atlantis: lt col john sheppard,
- stranger things: billy hargrove,
- stranger things: chrissy cunningham,
- stranger things: eddie munson,
- stranger things: jim hopper,
- stranger things: joyce byers,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- twd: daryl dixon
IC INTRO #1
IC INTRO #1
A Blood Offering
You wake up cozy in bed at the Saturn Motel. As you observe the room you may realize that it looks a little dated. Or, perhaps from your point of view the lamp and TV are wildly futuristic. Or, like Goldilocks, it may seem just right: close to the world you just left behind. Either way, you just had a very strange dream (see the arrival scenario) and now you're here. And you're not alone: there's a bed next to yours and someone else is waking up just like you are.Roller Rink
You can chat for a while if you like, but if you try to leave you'll find the door is firmly locked and no amount of kicking, punching, or hitting it with an object will do you any good. Instead, there's a letter on the nightstand which reads:
"Good morning and welcome to your new home!
You may be wondering why you're trapped in this room. Fear not, the door will open easily if you offer a bit of blood. More than a few drops but not enough to be a serious wound. A handprint's worth will do, let's say, and it only needs to come from one of you.
I'll let you sort that out yourselves. See you on the other side.
Sincerely,
The Mayor"
And indeed, a handprint's worth of blood pressed against the door will unlock it and let you out into the world. Do you volunteer your own blood? Do you take it from the other person by force? It's up to you! But there's no food in here, so you better figure it out eventually.
As a celebration of your new lives here (and an apology for the whole blood offering thing - they were just testing something out, really) the Mayor has invited everyone to the Crazy Eight Roller Rink for a private, after-hours party.Mallrats
Attendance isn't mandatory, but it is heavily encouraged so that you can meet your fellow Cursed and know who's in on the whole secret. It'll help you down the line at some point if your Curse gets out of control and you need someone to wrangle you.
As a reward, everyone who shows up and completes at least one lap around the roller rink (you must be wearing skates, but you can crawl the lap if you can't get the hang of them) will receive a free walkman with a mystery tape inside. The color, style, and mystery tape your character gets are up to you.
Everyone loves the mall! Right? Right! And this group of newcomers is lucky enough to be here for the White Pines Mall Grand Opening celebration! Feel free to walk around the mall and partake in sales galore, check out the attractions, or just get to know the layout of the place.Extra Info
The Mayor has given everyone a gift card for $100 that can be used anywhere in the mall as long as they attend the Grand Opening.
They also strongly suggest that you familiarize yourself with the mall and its layout, just in case you ever get stuck there for a while and have to compete with others for food and resources. But that probably won't happen.
All the same guidelines from the TDM still apply. You can continue your TDM threads here or start new ones! And of course, you can start making your own prompts in the log or network communities at your leisure.
Our first event will be going up in about a week!
Please do not add character tags to any posts just yet, we'll add them to this post manually.
no subject
I would not mess with you.
There was the most fatal wildfire in the state of California's history. A town called Paradise burnt down. There is a disgusting man named Donald Trump as president. A song called Havana plays too much on radio. I have never heard of this Alter Ego.
no subject
[As anyone could have predicted, there's little he can say to prove himself. She's never heard of a town called Paradise or a foul soul named Trump (president of what? America? What about literally anywhere else?), and California may or may not have been on fire at any given time. How would she know?
Back to square one they go. Fukawa loses a second to being stupefied. Then inspiration strikes.]
W-well...if any of that were true, th-then how come you're so calm about this? [J'ACCUSE. There's a haughty quirk to her mouth now, she straightens ever so slightly.] If you'd just been shot b-backwards in time, you'd be losing your mind wouldn't you? And you'd be suspicious of me too, saying I'm from four years b-behind you! What do you say to that?
no subject
[ A candid admission, even if it seems to run directly counter to his tone of voice, his body language, his willingness to skate around a roller rink. But this entire scenario isn't as outlandishly unfamiliar to him as it probably is to her—something he needs to compensate for in giving her his response. ]
We are all scared. I do not want to be here. I want to be home. In 2018. But hysteria will not help this, so I control myself. Beside, you are not first person to be from a different time than me here.
no subject
[She exclaims very calmly. Forget the quaver in her voice. She is, in fact, handling this all rather gamely, because by now that prickle of dread at the back of her neck has swam down her spine and disseminated through every nerve and vessel. Ever since this morning she's been fighting it off, finding excuses, peeling off theory after theory. There's so many incongruities and none of them slot together, there's no cohesive picture to paint save the one offered in that potent dream. At long last, Fukawa has to concede it: none of this is a lie.
And she'd been doing such a good job picking it apart.
Her hands come to her hair, yanking at the roots.]
Th-then...Then how? How? How are w-we supposed to — and does this mean...I don't...I d-don't...This is fucking insane! I can't! I gotta —
[Go? Go where? Even if she booked a ticket back to Towa City it won't be the smoking wreck she knows. Komaru won't even be born yet. She wouldn't be born yet. And outside of that, if his future doesn't align with her present and none of it coincides with this past, or Stede's past, or anyone else's for that matter, then even the timelines are separate. She couldn't do anything to change an outcome, she couldn't move forward into her own time, she'd need to skip across a reality, and how the hell would she do that anyway? She doesn't know the first thing about the heavy sciences! She hated that subject, the whole lot of it!
Useless, useless, useless!]
Get me out of these st-stupid skates!
no subject
We can do that. First let's get to the edge of the rink, yes? You have to sit to take them off.
no subject
He's taken on a softer edge. It might grate on her if she were better settled, she doesn't like being patronized, but the whirlwind calamity of the situation takes precedence. Fukawa tries to skate forward and wobbles, latching onto the older man with an iron grip. He'll likely have to wheel them both back, her knees have melted into gelatinous molds and she's getting a bad case of the shakes. Her head ducks down, her voice goes tight.]
Fine, f-fine, I don't c-care about the stupid walkman anymore. I want to go.
no subject
[ It's a different skill entirely, pulling someone while on skates, but the balancing maneuver element of this isn't entirely unfamiliar: he can remember doing similar for at least one date in Gorky Park, albeit with an adult's sense of balance and not a girl's. Still, he manages to tow her to the mouth of the rink and then to the first bench they encounter. Fortunately nobody else is using it to lace or unlace their skates at the moment; he gets the sense that she probably wouldn't react well to her breakdown having an audience.
There's no shock blanket, but his winter uniform shirt is at least pretty heavy. Vasiliy unbuttons the front and strips down to the white Hanes tee shirt beneath, then drapes the dark navy fabric of his long-sleeved overshirt over her narrow shoulders—a comforting, grounding weight, hopefully. ]
Just take some deep breaths. There is a lot of people trying to find the way out of here.
no subject
His jacket settles over her shoulders before she realizes he's removed it. Fukawa looks up to him, flummoxed, still stifled by her own quaking. She does her best to listen, breathe deep. The sound is already warping into a sniffle, god and those are tears budding at her lashes, aren't they? She bites into her lip and averts her gaze to the floor.]
B-but how...how... [He's not going to have an answer. How did life itself begin? What happens after death? How does one get shunted across the universe in their sleep?
Except if they don't find an answer, they're not going to get back home. She swaps to yanking at her hair, hunching up small, knees welded together.]
This is s-such horseshit. Why would...there should be a limit. How many t-times can the world flip upside-down before it's enough?
no subject
Vasiliy is, fortunately, not one of the many people who find themselves uncomfortable in the presence of tears; a good third of the people he interrogated broke down crying at the first trace of gentleness, however carefully orchestrated it was, or if not at that then when insisting on their innocence, their loyalty to Comrade Stalin and the cause. He quickly learned to keep moving. He feels sorry for her, certainly, but he isn't paralyzed by the awkwardness a lot of people seem to feel in these situations. ]
I don't know. [ He's not one to sugarcoat things. Most of his fellow countrymen aren't. ] I wish I did. [ A pause. ] There are lots of people brought here. Some of them are probably scientists, engineers maybe. Very smart people who also want to find a way to go home.
no subject
[She'd found a way to fight back home. Even if her talent wasn't needed just yet — maybe once things were better settled, when the rest of her classmates were out of the damn line of danger. And that's another thought she doesn't need, they might not be alive by the time she gets back, if she gets back. If she's ever able to find out.
Oh god, please please please just stop. She can't accept that future. She won't, she won't, not after all they'd been through. They'd already been whittled down from fifteen to six, if it comes to three or two or one? What happens then?
They're smarter than you. Fukawa inhales thinly, raises her head a bit. Catches this kindly stranger by the eye. They're stronger, they carried your ungrateful ass through every trial before this, they can carry themselves through now. Even Komaru is a hero in her own right, she was strong with or without her.
She has to believe that much. Believe in them. That's all she can do now. They better not fucking disappoint her.]
...Just who are you, anyway?
[This guy's been almost too reasonable. She doesn't even have his name. He's given her next to nothing, now that she thinks about it. Why would he waste this much time pampering a complete mess like her?]
no subject
My name is Vasiliy Yegorovich. Vasiliy. I was a Emergency Medical Technician back home. EMT... I was born in St. Petersburg. That is in Northwest Russia. I lived in Chicago before coming here. [ He glances at his hands, bloodless for the time being. ] Is America far from home for you?
[ Best to keep her talking, to provide a distraction that might at least slow a spiral into a panic attack. ]
no subject
L-like Dostoevsky. [She says at once.] I kn-know where St. Petersburg is.
[As to the rest, she nods, wiping the next round of tears away before they hit her chin.]
I've n-never even been. I'm from Tokyo. [No elaboration needed there. Though she ought to ask, just in case, because 2018 isn't so far off and none of his listed facts directly contradict her reality—] I'm an intern with the F-Future Foundation?
[If he doesn't recognize that, then she really is alone. A thought that chills her further, though the fervor is dying down. She's no less miserable, just losing her steam in one steady leak.]
An EMT, huh? N-no wonder you've kept so calm. You must be used to d-dealing with shrieking lunatics every d-day of your life.
no subject
[ After a brief pause: ]
Tokyo, though. I have never been to Japan. I was thousands of kilometers away. That is probably why I have not heard of your Future Foundation. It is a young people's group?
[ He's picturing something like the Komsomol—he never had the chance to be involved in that sort of thing, but its absence wasn't too much of a hindrance. Or maybe it was—maybe he would have been more than an interrogator, or something different entirely, had that been on his personnel file. He supposes he'll never really know. ]
no subject
Most people can't wait to be rid of her.]
No. It's, um. [It's a dead end now, is what it is. There's no use in telling him what it is, his world obviously has no need for such an organization. Does that mean it's still carrying on, safe and sound?] Sort of a government thing, I guess. It d-doesn't matter.
[Fukawa bites her lip.]
I think...I th-think I'll be okay. You don't have to k-keep wasting your time on me.
[Or his reputation. Hanging out with a histrionic teenager can't be high on any adult's list of achievements.]
I think I'll just find somewhere quiet. To think about it. You know.