Patrick Dawn (
bashfulshifter) wrote in
towerofanimus2013-07-02 10:47 pm
First Contact
Characters: Rick and Feferi to start; if you want to thread running into him after the fact, that's also fine! Just do the new subject thing. In 1-16, Rick and his assortment of roommates (the ones that aren't actively avoiding the scary writing above them that is).
Setting: Dorms, floor one, on July 2nd
Format: Prose to start, can match!
Summary: Rick is terrified of everything! General newbie investigations. Also getting the blood off the ceiling, what a pain am I right
Warnings: Moping and copious indecision?
Terminal Shenanigans [CLOSED]
The dormitories were probably not the largest floors in this tower, but they were certainly big enough that a brisk circuit down the corridors had left Rick winded. Granted, he'd be hard-pressed to be even more uncomfortable than he already was. His immediate surroundings weren't so unusual--rather like a strangely futuristic college hall--but the circumstances and the note, and the backlog of recent terminal posts that he skimmed through, all bode ill for Rick's future.
Of course, it wasn't worth getting ahead of himself here. Rick's brief discussion with Feferi promised more raw information than any amount of frantic speculation could buy him--and perhaps even a moment of solace, if she was as friendly as her posts suggested. As Rick rounded the corner and got a glimpse within the alcove of the terminal, however, he was reminded of that other problem. The one where Feferi was definitely not human, and Rick convinced himself that she was, and now it turns out she actually is some kind of horned fish-person and he really is not ready for that in the slightest?
If Feferi hadn't heard him approaching, the only indication that there was even someone standing several feet behind her would be the sound of halting stutters, as Rick tried (and failed) multiple times to address her.
Retreat to Room 1-16 [OPEN TO ROOMIES]
With all of the strange interactions on and around the terminals, Rick had nearly forgotten what had driven him out of his starting room to begin with. When he returned there, intent on having a nice lie-down in one of the mysterious four corner-beds, he got a good, long glimpse at the blood-covered ceiling and remembered, at which point he turned heel and walked back out of the room.
Rick pressed his back against the door and took several long, deep breaths, kneading his temples. As many times as his other predatory forms hunted and ate uncooked prey animals, he still could never get used to the sight of blood. Although they didn't typically dip their paws in it and write "MONSTER" over and over again near the source puddle, Rick had to remind himself. That aspect certainly was not helping matters. But this was also where he would be staying--that's what the note had said, and the people he had talked to seemed to place some base credit in its various statements of tower life--and where three other people would be staying with him. They probably didn't want to see that stuff as desperately as he did. Perhaps, if he got rid of it, they would come back and be on good terms with him for cleaning things up.
Or it would make for a convenient distraction, at any rate. Rick gathered his nerves, a pair of socks from his trunk, and some soap, and set diligently to work.
Setting: Dorms, floor one, on July 2nd
Format: Prose to start, can match!
Summary: Rick is terrified of everything! General newbie investigations. Also getting the blood off the ceiling, what a pain am I right
Warnings: Moping and copious indecision?
Terminal Shenanigans [CLOSED]
The dormitories were probably not the largest floors in this tower, but they were certainly big enough that a brisk circuit down the corridors had left Rick winded. Granted, he'd be hard-pressed to be even more uncomfortable than he already was. His immediate surroundings weren't so unusual--rather like a strangely futuristic college hall--but the circumstances and the note, and the backlog of recent terminal posts that he skimmed through, all bode ill for Rick's future.
Of course, it wasn't worth getting ahead of himself here. Rick's brief discussion with Feferi promised more raw information than any amount of frantic speculation could buy him--and perhaps even a moment of solace, if she was as friendly as her posts suggested. As Rick rounded the corner and got a glimpse within the alcove of the terminal, however, he was reminded of that other problem. The one where Feferi was definitely not human, and Rick convinced himself that she was, and now it turns out she actually is some kind of horned fish-person and he really is not ready for that in the slightest?
If Feferi hadn't heard him approaching, the only indication that there was even someone standing several feet behind her would be the sound of halting stutters, as Rick tried (and failed) multiple times to address her.
Retreat to Room 1-16 [OPEN TO ROOMIES]
With all of the strange interactions on and around the terminals, Rick had nearly forgotten what had driven him out of his starting room to begin with. When he returned there, intent on having a nice lie-down in one of the mysterious four corner-beds, he got a good, long glimpse at the blood-covered ceiling and remembered, at which point he turned heel and walked back out of the room.
Rick pressed his back against the door and took several long, deep breaths, kneading his temples. As many times as his other predatory forms hunted and ate uncooked prey animals, he still could never get used to the sight of blood. Although they didn't typically dip their paws in it and write "MONSTER" over and over again near the source puddle, Rick had to remind himself. That aspect certainly was not helping matters. But this was also where he would be staying--that's what the note had said, and the people he had talked to seemed to place some base credit in its various statements of tower life--and where three other people would be staying with him. They probably didn't want to see that stuff as desperately as he did. Perhaps, if he got rid of it, they would come back and be on good terms with him for cleaning things up.
Or it would make for a convenient distraction, at any rate. Rick gathered his nerves, a pair of socks from his trunk, and some soap, and set diligently to work.

no subject
[He wants to ask what this guy did to make the blood happen, but every logical synapse in his brain screams that this isn't his place. He'll leave it alone for the sake of good taste. Whatever the case, he's not giving up the rags.]
...Enough, I think. The note, the--[Rick waves his soapy hands in circles as he conjures the correct word.]--c-c-computers, kind of, and um, F-Feferi...b-b-between them, I know...
[More hand-waving. Rick seems rather flustered at his inability to sum up all the information that Raven is requesting. He gives up eventually with a befuddled frown.]
...a lot. T-T-Too much, even.
no subject
... You were on the network already?
[ Funny. He'd been on it too, not long ago. A 'Feferi,' were there any other recent posts besides the one that... no, not that he can recall.
...Well. ]
I suppose... you wouldn't happen to be 'Rick,' would you.
no subject
[Rick blinks blankly at the opposite wall. The last couple hours have been one highly distressing blur for him, so he doesn't connect the dots just yet. Instead, he nods.]
...Y-Yes. I'm s-s-sorry for not, ah, in-introducing m-myself.
[Rick begins extending his arm for a handshake, but his fingers are covered in nasty and he thinks better of it. He offers a smile to compensate.]
no subject
Raven, anyway. We... spoke, briefly, earlier. [ over the network. you know, if you could call that exchange 'speaking.' ]
no subject
[It takes him a moment of mental backpedaling to get up to speed. "Raven" was one of the names on the door, so this is obviously one of his roommates, but his own name was posted as "Patrick," so he must've found his nickname from...well he did mention the network just a second ago, so...oh! How obvious!]
[Rick's face turns very, very red.]
...You r-replied to m-my post?
5 million event tags later
Well. Yes. I did, I mean... [ he mutters, fighting down the strong urge to bring a hand up to massage his temple.
Really, what else do you say to that... ]
no subject
O-Oh! Um...r-right! S-Sorry, I-I-I should h-have, ah-- [Rick shoves a hand in his hair and his eyes fall to the floor.] --I-I should h-h-have known, I--I'm, um...
[He would kick his feet, but he doesn't want to scuff the bed, so instead he just stares at his feet and imagines that he is. Awkward silence falls.]