driftfleet_ooc | SPRING TEST DRIVE MEME

I. Shopping

[While Eames didn't have any significant amount of credits to his name, it didn't mean he couldn't at least look at the wares that were being offered. This was the first real alien moon he'd ever been on, and while the pollution might leave a lot to be desired, he wasn't going to sit around idly when he could be exploring and committing this place to memory.

The masks were rather intriguing though, and Eames was torn between which mask he should try to pocket. He glanced over at the person next to him, a small wry grin on his face.]

What do you think? This one or the jackal?

[The first would be easier to take but the second one would be a fun challenge.]

II. Mud Pit Fight: Two Parts

A.
[He was going to blame it on whatever sort of crazy space jetlag his body was experiencing that he'd been caught trying to lift the mask. Fortunately for him, it seemed like disputes were settled here with good old fashioned fighting. Unfortunately for him, it involved mud and foam bats that made him feel rather silly when it was handed to him and he was told to unclench his fists.

Despite looking rather frail, this wasn't the shop keeper's first rodeo or foam bat mud battle, and they had Eames on the defensive pretty quick, flinging mud everywhere as he dodged and lunged. Oops, hope a little mud isn't going to hurt you.]

B.
[Is your character the goodie goodie type? Or at least one that wouldn't approve of thievery? Well congratulations, trying to stop Eames from taking the mask will be taken as an argument and they'll both be taken to a mud pit.

Eames looks torn between amusement and annoyance, head canted to the side.]

Let's see if you're better at this than at keeping quiet.

He steps from one stage to another, faltering as he looks around at a strange place that he does not know. But an audience is an audience, and Maglor sits and brushes his fingers across the strings of his harp, producing a ripple of sound, as bright as the stars. Even under foreign stars, Maglor knows how to captivate an audience.

Edited 2016-04-01 02:32 (UTC)

Shopping, because someone desperately needs caffeine.

A looming figure in long flowing black cape moves between the shops and stalls. He is on a mission, a mission of the utmost importance. He needs a latte.

Nothing will keep him from his goal, though he might pause momentarily to pass silent judgement on the tacky respirators.

Well, as silently as a guy who goes Pppfhissh every time he breathes.

Also he might be a little more intimidating if it wasn't for the large coffee mug with the Star Trek logo and bendy straw... but don't tell him that. Seriously, that just gets messy and no one wants that.

A - On a ship/or the marvisa

[There's a statuesque woman with bright blue hair and glowing blue eyes standing in the cargo bay. She'd arrived a while ago, but hadn't actually made any attempt to go looking for people...instead, she'd opened up her sensors and was scanning the ship remotely. A few people, technology she didn't recognize, and nothing else. No gnosis. No Shion. But most worryingly, no UMN.]

[She had never actually been disconnected from the UMN before. If she were human, she might have compared it to suddenly going deaf. Just a complete loss of all of the background noise in her mind.]

[The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she shifted away from focusing on her sensors, watching the person approach but saying nothing. Hm.]

B - Out on the moon

[In spite of the evidence and rationally knowing it was pointless, Kos-mos had headed out into the wastelands of the moon once they chance had arrived. Her body was impervious to the pollution and filth (though she was not happy with what it seemed to be doing to her hair) and she had thought, perhaps, away from the technology of the ships and the cities, she might find a clear signal back to...well. She wasn't sure. Shion? Second Miltia? What was she even looking for?]

[Still, without really knowing why, she stood on the edge of one of the moon's cliffs, scanning the ruined sky, and probably seemed dangerously close to falling if anyone else passed by.]

C - Shopping

[Now that she had...settled in, she'd decided there were things she needed. She couldn't exactly buy a repair bed, she wasn't even sure that level of technology existed. But she knew what she would need to buy it.]

[Which was why she pushed past someone in line, stepping up to the clerk. She didn't mean to be intimidating, but, well, she couldn't quite help it.]

I need equipment from your store.

[A beat, and then she held out a piece of paper with neat, crisp lines of hand-written text on it. ...In pink pen.]

I have made a list.

[The poor clerk looked dumbfounded and searched the faces of the others nearby for help.]

Edited 2016-04-01 03:31 (UTC)

Marsiva
[Apollo is testing things. He's already worked out that his strength seems to be normal (for him), but he can't bring himself to want to bust up the Marsiva to get out. He's a placid guy, but he thinks maybe this is too placid even for him.

So he's hanging out, floating around the place, pressing himself to the windows like it might get him closer to that distant star.]

Planetside
[Well. This place is a shit hole, isn't it? And he doesn't even have Jenny with him to just make it be less crappy.

He's not doing the whole 'protective gear' thing. He's immune to the toxins and poisons and can burn them off his skin before he comes back to a ship. But he's mostly sticking to inside cities and buildings. Just to be safe to others.]

shopping; let's get some ~~shoes~~ masks

[ Now that all the hullabaloo of 'WOAH I'M IN SPACE' is over, Rose is trying to acclimate by doing something 'normal.' Shopping. That's totally normal, right? Or, at least, she thought it'd be. It makes sense that the most popular wares on the polluted planet are masks but...

Eh, well, when in Rome! She's more than happy to try on some 'demo' masks offered. She's of course careful to disinfect them with the handy dandy conveniently offered spray. Who knows whose face has been on these things and what they did with that face. The blond straps on a glowing one, careful of her hair, and breathes through it deeply. A clerk clicks a switch that lights it up; her eyes do too the second it turns on in the dim lighting.

She laughs and does another intentional deep breath that causes a kssss sound in her mask, before saying, ]

Now I'm totally ready for any unexpected rave that might happen. [ to no one in particular. Hopefully some passerby will appreciate her sparkling wit. ]

games; this means war!

[ It's already stressful enough being whisked into space without her consent. Now she's being caught up in something else just as unexpectedly! There's a gun shoved in her hand and she's actually very concerned about what this means... Has she been recruited for an intergalactic war unawares? What is she even fighting for?

Someone shoots. The guy next to her is hit with a cry. There's red splattering his front and oh no, oh gosh, what does she do- The guy starts laughing and bounces back up before saying he's gonna' 'get whoever did that.' Rose squints and watches someone else get pelted but this time their blood is... green?

Wait.

That's not blood. It's paint! Oh, phew, what a relief... Also: ]

It's on, suckers.

[ Prepare to get painted, poor passerbys. Rose doesn't care who you are or if you're involved in the game or not. She's going gung ho and firing at everyone in sight. So, uhm. Sorry? ]

wilderness; over the polluted river and through the polluted woods

Hey. You wanna' go exploring?

[ In actuality, Rose doesn't mind going out and about by herself. She figures though what with this being an alien planet and all the 'safety in numbers' rule might be a good one to follow. ]

It looks really cool, don't you think? Like. I don't know. An adventure movie scene with a little bit of horror.

[ That's cool, right?! Besides, how can someone say no to these literal puppy dog eyes? ]

⦗ a | ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘᴛɪᴄ sᴄɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴀʙʏ ⦘

[ ok so if you're going to be politically correct, you should probably feel sorry for the polluted moon and maybe take it as an educational experience for when you go back to earth aka global warming and maybe something about industrial foods but.

but this is fifty shades of awesome.

and maybe a healthy 11% creepy because of all the masks. especially the native children in their masks. definitely creepy. ok so maybe 15% creepy.

but that leaves 85% of pure awesome so you can find cisco taking samples from different areas of the city ( except for the water, he definitely won't touch the water, he doesn't want to lose an arm.

or grow a third one )

when he's not studying the conditions of the moon, he'll be hanging around the edges of the wilderness. he won't go too deep since really, he really doesn't want to know what sort of life forms managed to survive in these woods.

you might also hear an overly-excited shout of now that is just awesome! at the exact moment where he'll find his mask.

and if you hear him doing a low-voice version of I'm your father for the love of god, do not engaged. ]

⦗ ʙ | ᴏ ʜᴏʟʏ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴘʀɪsᴇ ⦘

[ ok so nobody can expect the whole spaceship thing not to tempt him. it's eternally unfair that captain cold is somewhere on a time ship whose functions he can't really appreciate since he's probably busy being a jerk.

there are two options. one, you might find someone in the different places among the socked ship as he'll be visiting them all. he won't be touching things per se, more like murmuring ok that's just cool and writing various things onto a notepad. still, it might be a bit startling to find a nerd going through your ship but please, for the love of good, don't shoot that nerd.

he might actually be humoring himself just a tiny bit by going to the bridge and pretending he's captain kirk and giving directions to an unseen crew of people, don't ask.

either way when found you might get a girly yelp of lower the laser guns, I come in peace! ]

[ a natural satellite rendered all but technically uninhabitable by human??? intervention. maybe greenpeace is sponsoring this show. 'found no signs of water #inthewater #savewaterdrinkvodka'

as a scientist first and a living, breathing human second ( the existence of a heart remains the source of vicious debate ), house decides to take it upon himself to test what it is they're all doing their best not to breathe and/or ingest. armed with sample tubes, he takes several samples of the water. and because it's not like he has anything to get back to, he decides to play golf. he has a cane.

where did he get the ball? it's a fucking mystery. ]

FORE!

[ non-earth gravity and non-earth atmosphere both have a distinctive effect on his swing. or that's the story house will go with about why the ball veers left and into the sludge-formerly-known-as-water. talk about your water hazards.

a beat. ]

Go get it.

[ the terraformers are not delightfully massive cannons she can get back to working order and then sell to the highest ( read: currently only ) bidder. but they are both old enough and in rough enough condition to attract the attention of an archaeologist/technician/whatever else "dark, tall and will inevitably kill her this time" needs her to be. besides, almost anything is better than sitting in prison bored out of her mind.

( not to mention, they could technically be shaped into giant cannons. a little scavenging here, some adaptations there… a girl's gotta have hobbies. )

working on them, aphra makes for a sight: grease stains on her hands and across one cheek, smelling of sweat and oil, respirator hanging off her neck, and grinning as only someone kept happily busy can. she makes for a more startling sight when she pops her head out of the engine housing she had been working in. ]

You mind throwing that up here? [ sorry for the potential heart attack, except she doesn't have a sorry bone in her body. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]

a) War Games.

[Toast is sitting on the sidelines of the war games, sat up high so she can see everything. She's eating some bread as she watches intently, chewing on it slowly before crying out-] Come on!

[- with a full mouth. She shakes her head and swallows, muttering lowly.] He has a weak left leg. You're playing it entirely wrong.

[She's just off the ship, so she's in a jumpsuit with no gas mask. Screw that thing.]

b) Shopping.

[Still sans gas mask, Toast can be found in an indoor market, browsing at some assorted medicines when the store owner grabs her arm, complaining about the gun hidden (but peeking out) of her jumpsuit pocket. She fights his hold.] It's just a little one. Let me go!

[She looks a little ill, pale and sweaty and weak.]

c) Other.

[Feel free to come up with another option! She's getting pretty sick after not wearing a mask, so she'll probably be laid up on the ship for a while.]

[Lars has been understandably cranky since his arrival—he's been held on Marvisa for a couple of days already while the shuffling is sorted out, and Lars hates that he can't even be exactly as incredulous as he wants to be with the mysteriously programmed general understanding of things in his brain. His augment is aggravatingly visible, too, with his mostly bald head. The whole experience is uncomfortable.

And so is the food. Lars already has a really hard time putting on weight, and this shit just isn't appetizing. But having not eaten at all yesterday, basically, Lars has finally decided to cave. He has a cup of assorted protein pastes, as a result of a few things—like apathy, indecision and low blood sugar born from hunger pains. Said assortment of protein pastes is all sort of... just... plopped together in the same bowl, on top of the tray Lars is holding.

Being somewhat loopy from hunger, and distracted by this horrible, stupid situation, Lars isn't really paying attention as well as he should—and walks right the hell into someone while turning a corner, which, in addition to getting a pretty awesome squawk out of Lars, lands his questionable slurry of nutrition paste all over his shirt.]

Agh!

[In a very mature display of what totally is not a tantrum, Lars, frustrated, throws the tray on the ground, shucking off the semi congealed globs of paste off his shirt using the flat sides of his palms.]

Euch!! Man, watch where you're goin', y'friggin' blockhead! Ugh—my shirt! It's totally ruined!

[In the height of Lars's not-a-tantrum, he ducks his head, immediately beginning to shimmy out of his henley and t-shirt, grumbling within their now-slimy confines. He's normally a lot more body shy, but he's too hungry and mad to be so inhibited.]

Edited 2016-04-02 01:25 (UTC)

(first)

[He can hear something frying, and there's a scent of something like grease, although that could just be the moon's natural and horrible aroma. The air is really bad, Emil knows that much, and he's not sure whether it's that which makes him feel sick, or the fact that he's hungry. So, he can hear something frying... And, way too trusting (of his surroundings, of everyone), Emil's made his way up to a stand selling food. It's not great food by any definition ‐ it's just doughy protein and a nasty amount of oil. Emil doesn't see any of that, though. The most notable thing about him is that he's blindfolded.]

Um... Well, hi! [he chirps at the alien who's running the stand. Not that he knows an alien from anyone else.] I think you have food, right? Do you have spaghetti? [...] Um, fettucini, maybe? Shrimp scampi... [... ... ...] Excuse me?

[The frycook keeps frying up those bits of dough. Emil rocks back on his heels a little, hands folded politely behind his back.] Hi! So... Chicken noodle soup? [he tries.]

(second)

[Emil still hasn't acquired a mask, but that's not what's left him pale. Rather, he's been caught up in a crowd, and it's frying his nerves. He'd be wide-eyed if not for his blindfold; as it is, his lips are parted in constant surprise, and he wobbles.] Be careful! [he keeps saying, whenever someone gets too close— ] Please be careful! [He's jostled again, and starts, holding his hands up in front of his face.] Uh, if you want to just— You can just push me over to the side! Actually, please do that!

(third)

[And, ultimately, Emil's gotten rounded up into some excitement. Here, too, there are more people than he feels comfortable being so close to. Finally — finally! — there's some reprieve. He's ushered into a chair. This seems a lot less scary than having people right up next to him... Swallowing, and sighing, Emil visibly relaxes in his seat, folding his hands in his lap and turning his face down towards his knees.

Then someone starts going on about... a game?! Emil can't see it, but there's a board game set out in front of him. After the alien spearheading this event is through announcing the game, Emil kicks his feet a little and smiles with cheer and less anxiety, curling his fingers over his thighs.]

Well, I don't really know the rules, [he says to the person seated across the table,] but I'd be happy to play with you!

[Except... he can't see... the board...]

[ a - shopping for masks ]

[ Clark felt . . . oddly weak. It wasn't a bad sensation, just a new one. He glanced at the sky with a thoughtful frown. He remembered his father Jor-El telling him about the sun's rays and how they nourish his body. Is this what it meant to be away from Earth?

He's not sure how he feels. Delicately, he picks up one of the masks. He wasn't holding back but it remained in one piece. Is this how it felt . . . to be completely human?

Without thinking, he applied extra pressure. Not even a crack. He can't help but grin a little.

Until it breaks. Then that grin turns a little sheepish and he faces the shopkeeper. ]

Sorry. Er, how much is it again?

[ b - fight club ]

[ He's not entirely sure how he found himself here. Not that it mattered. There were always people who took his size and strength personally. As if Clark stood for all the better people of the world. Still, it was hard to keep up appearances and pretend that he was helpless. So he did his best to fake the blows and punches.

Hopefully, they'll get bored when they realize he's not fighting back, he thought to himself as one guy tried to throw him against the wall. Key emphasis on "tried". ]

[ c - wildcard ]

[First]

[As a resident of Rieze Maxia, Jude wasn't exactly used to pollution. Sure, they had some-- but thanks to the dependence on spirit artes it was relatively uncommon. Suffice to say he has to rely on the mask he's given, and he still looks a little uncomfortable even then. The air he breathed through the filtered mask tasted strange on his tongue, and his range of vision was limited by the attached goggles.
All he wanted right now was to find something clean to drink to get that taste out of his mouth.]

Excuse me! If it isn't too much trouble, could I ask you a quick question?

[Second]

[Of course Jude would find his way to a museum eventually. He wanted to understand why these people lived like they were-- he'd gotten a bit of information from the locals, but learning more might help build a better picture for him. The technology was so far beyond what he knew, however, that it was taking him longer than usual to put together a better idea of it all.]

They..... built a planet?

[Third]

[Somehow, some way, Jude had stumbled into the midst of a football game. One second he was crossing the street, the next he'd caught an object that had nearly collided with his head. Staring down at the ball in his hands, he glances around to look for the owners.

Unfortunately, said owners were running full speed towards all 5'4 of him, intent on the ball in his hands. They wouldn't really tackle him would they?]

[ A: Arrival ]

[ Whether it's through the video feed or in person on the Marsiva, one can spot a young man with white hair and tattoo on one cheek going over his eye... not at all unlike somebody currently aboard the Fleet. But this one is looking pensive and.... like he's in the middle of doing something?

He can be heard mumbling some words. ]

"Breaking down space-time." "Dimensional Seal." ...Rejected?

One more time. "Breaking down space-time." "Dimensional Seal . . . ."

....Ugh. What's going on?

[ B: Planetside ]

[ Rather than accept a weird and perhaps untrustworthy mask, the sage has opted to create a bubble of clean air around him instead. Magic.

It's drawing a rather sizable crowd from the locals, because one, he's not wearing a mask and seems to be fine, and two, the air around him is visibly cleaner. The giant magic circle on the ground around him probably draws a little attention, too. ]

Er, you can all move alone. Nothing to see here. [ His words, they are not working. ]

[ C: Aboard his new ship ]

[ When the sage finds himself aboard a spaceship after a week of mindless days aboard the Marsiva, it's actually a welcome change.

So he's going to go around and introduce himself to the crew. ]

Hello. It looks like I'll be the ship's new communications officer. Let me know if you need...

[ ...What does a communications officer do, anyway? ] ...any communicating.

i. arrival - video transmission/spam on the marsiva

[When Elena wakes, she knocks the communicator to the floor by accident. She ignores it for the moment as she sits up and slowly gets to her feet. For the most part, she feels fine. But she doesn't recognize her surroundings at all, which makes this—as far as illusions are concerned—pretty hard to accept as reality.]

Alright, I'll admit it: you're getting creative. [She pauses, bending down to scoop up the communicator. She frowns into the camera.] Or ripping off some crappy sci-fi movie you saw a couple decades ago. Either way, you need to get the hell out of my head, Damon.

ii. on the iskaulit

[Guess who is not going to be caught down on that grimy little moon? That's right, this girl. It's too much of a pain in the ass trying to figure out how to feed down there around the masks and their little war games don't particularly interest her. Not that there's a whole lot to do up here on the ships. Honestly, she doesn't understand how the hell anybody could possibly get paid for any of this. As far as reality shows go, this one is boring. There's no drama, no excitement of danger. Hell, she'd have at least expected space pirates or something to spice up the monotony of floating around a moon for apparently a month.]

[Alas, here she is at one of the bars on the Iskaulit, drinking what she is fairly certain is cheap beer and trying to will the fleet to just move onto something more exciting. Since that's not happening, it looks like she's going to have to make her own fun. She's been playing at being a good girl for long enough. It's time to test herself. See what she can get away with.]

[So, Elena takes her beer and heads on over to the first person she sees that's at least passably cute and alone.]

Hey, is this seat taken?

Edited 2016-04-04 01:55 (UTC)

[Alex looks down at the gas mask in her hands. It's one of the standard issue, nothing fancy. She hasn't gone so far as to try to buy her own yet, and isn't planning to. She isn't exactly flush with cash, and they won't be here long—she figures. It's her first time on another planet.

All her training and work with the DEO should have prepared her for this, but facing the real thing...

Somehow, this isn't what she would have expected, if she'd thought it would happen at all. It hadn't ever occurred to her that at some point she might be the alien.

She takes a deep breath, a last one before she puts on her gas mask and heads out to explore.]

Marketplace

[ On a barren wasteland of a moon, inside one of the closed market buildings, a single tree stands. It's not a very big tree. It's not even really much of a tree, with only two branches that reach up to grow, tangled, around a beam and no real leaves.

It is silent and still, which is fairly typical of most plants, until it suddenly straightens and that face like thing up the top proves to be an actual face, with opening eyes and a yawning mouth. The vines untangle from the beam and it lowers its arms; it uproots itself from where it stood, tiny crawling tendrils slipping back under the bark plates.

Then it starts ambling off. Which is very decidedly unplant like. ]

1. Arrival
[ Richard tries very hard to forego the mask, not wanting to muss up his flowing beard, but that doesn't last long. Only fifteen minutes of wandering about on the moon leaves him feeling just a little alarmed. Almost everyone is wearing those masks, and more masks are constantly being offered to him. That can mean only one thing. ]

Oh, dear. It's the plague, isn't it?

[ He lowers his voice as he finally takes the mask from a kind stranger. ]

Don't worry. These things pass quickly. Five years and one third of the population, tops.

2. Games

Well, this is delightful.

[ Richard has been drawn into one of the war games, and even behind the mask, he sounds overjoyed. There's a sunny smile behind there, and he just has to clap his hands together in a show of joy. ]

Gareth would love this. Quickly! Who wants to fight for and possibly die for me?

[ Richard, you have to play your own game, buddy. And none of them are all that violent. ]

3. Wildcard

[ Whatever u want, chums. ]

Planet + Shopping

Don't even think about it.

[She doesn't even glance at the poor native trying to helpfully put a mask over her face. The cool look she casts him, makes him back off. And as she haughtily passes the rest of the friendly welcomers, she gives the last one a hearty shove.

Then its off to the planet. Poison? Eh. How quaint. She searches around at vendors, hanging mostly around the different apothecary stands, touching and poking at everything and generally giving the merchants a hard way to go.]

What? Can't be fussed to carry anything useful? What a waste of time.

[She casually tips over a bottle on the stall. Her gaze is flat and uncaring.]

Oops.

Shopping On The Moon

[There aren't a lot of masks that fit her broad face, but Maz is finally able to find a custom mask maker and haggle for a piece that fits properly that won't break the bank. In fact for a bit of barter and clever wordplay she's able to come out with some extra filters to boot. Appropriately outfitted for the moon's harsh atmosphere, she goes about her business; shopping, haggling, making friends and laying down a network of information and trade that will serve their immediate stay here and hopefully remain intact for any future visits.]

Wargames On The Moon

[The wargames are just the kind of gathering to attract such morally grey people as the kind Maz has dealt with most of her extensive life. She takes the chance to mingle, network, win some bets and lose some bets (though definitely more in her favor), and get a sense of the overall political leanings and general comfort of the citizens. The ban on violence is a curious but pleasant surprise, and she's curious what further ramifications that might have.]

The Ship

[When she's not shopping, she's back on her ship; stocking it and decorating it to be an inviting haven. Shipmate and visitor alike, she wants people to feel comfortable, able to sit and chat, where she can best see them and really try and get a sense of who they are.]

Edited 2016-04-07 20:27 (UTC)

[Where is he? This ship is clearly not Orokin in origin. Someone has stripped him of his frame, his weapons, even his powers.

The Stalker is not happy.

Clearly something is here that he must hunt. He would not have been sent here otherwise. What injustice has been done in this strange place that he must rectify? He can sense no one, not through the marks, but that could simply be the absence of his power, not the lack of a target.

He wanders the ship, looking for a common area from which he can observe the bystanders. Perhaps one will help him to identify his prey.]

a. shopping for medicine

[She's got a bag full of medicine, and she's still picking things up. She may not be able to afford all this, but she's going to be prepared.] Pardon me, [she starts with a smooth French accent, pointing at the top shelf.] Can you get the bottle on the far right for me?

b. shopping

[Madeleine shops in other shops, less fancy. They've got weird and foreign objects here. She brushes her fingers over the objects, picking one up now and then and examining it. She looks at cuckoo clock, tracing her fingers over the opening, her breath coming out short and fast. She thinks of James then, of the pain he went through, and looks away.]

a. shopping?

[Tuck is in an indoor market, looking around at all the interesting things here. He stops at the gas masks, frowning at a freakily-shaped mask.

He stops when he sees an elderly woman struggle with her shopping bags, and hurries over, helping her pick them up. He smiles when she thanks him. Why don't you save some puppies next, Tuck?]

b. totally shopping

[Nope. Next, he's back behind the shops, slipping into a (previously locked but now lock-picked) door. He's quiet and inconspicuous, but maybe your character is good at spotting people. What's back there? That's why Tuck picked the lock! All the good stuff must be back here.]

c. other

[Or witness both happening! Or pick something else!]

wilderness.
[ This isn't Braavos.

Arya spent all of five minutes in the city before escaping to the woods, long enough to take a gas mask and put it on once she felt herself starting to suffocate. The thing is better than dying, but it restricts her peripheral vision just enough to make Arya uncomfortable with being in this strange, unknown city. She's far more accustomed to forests, however, and she escapes there, sword in tow.

Once she reaches the wilderness, Arya moves slowly, carefully, barely rustling the dead leaves. It's easy to see that this place is sick, perhaps dying, but there's something oddly beautiful about these rocks and hills. After a few hours of hiking, Arya reaches the edge of a cliff, and for a moment she allows herself to stop and appreciate the view.

But only for a moment. She hears something moving behind her, and Arya draws her sword and quickly faces whoever is approaching. ]

Who are you?

[ The hostile way Arya asks the question makes it sound more like an accusation than anything else. ]

war games.
[ Arya didn't mean to start the fight, truly. The hunters had come upon her in the wilderness, and when she tried to fight back, they surrounded her and threw her in the pit she's standing in now. One man bothered to tell Arya that fighting was only allowed in sanctioned areas, despite Arya's protests. She hadn't wanted to fight. She just wanted to live.

More often than not, however, those two amount to more or less the same thing.

Arya looks right, then left. There's so many people, most of them spectators. Arya doesn't know what's going to happen to her, but she doesn't want to find out. She spots a door at the opposite end of the pit. She'll have to barrel through a large crowd, and her escape might not work, but it's worth a shot.

So without warning, Arya sprints straight towards the crowd with one thing on her mind: the exit. ]

Eames | Inception

Maglor | Tolkein (Silmarillion)

Darth Vader | Blue Milk Special