Test Drive

[uploadedmods]

TEST DRIVE 001


-TDM threads can be considered game canon if players involved agree & if it suits any roles you may decide to choose for the current plot.
-Any reserving player that does not submit an app by Saturday morning will be subject to challenging applicants.
-Participation in the Test Drive is worth a flat 10 points per month rather than per thread, and you must have a minimum of 5 comments in that month to qualify for it.
-This TDM is good for the duration of the Mist setting. A new TDM will go up before the next setting.

The NETWORK for this setting is a voice-only walkie talkie system that can be used to communicate between all locations. The default channel will be open to all walkie talkies, but characters can change to an unused channel for private conversation.
of note: There seems to be something strange about these walkie talkies, in that there is no static. The quality is disturbingly crystal clear, like the person you're speaking to is right next to you instead of miles away.

CONTENT WARNING: Some prompts contain gore, character death, and substance abuse.

Reserves will open on Saturday, September 8 until Saturday, September 15
Applications will open Saturday, September 15 until Saturday, September 22

General Prompts


The lights above you are a blindingly, pristine white. The walls around you curve up into the ceiling like the inside of an MRI machine. Your hands, feet, and midsection are strapped to a clinical table, and minutes seem to tick by, with no clear course for escape presenting itself to you.

The curved white space above you flickers with color, and a perfect square like a television screen expands before your eyes. It pans over what appears to be a town, something small and simply populated.

“Hello, and welcome to your first setting,” a neutrally cadenced feminine sounding voice begins, riding the line between human and machine. As she speaks, captions of the text type themselves in neat and perfect Arial font. “The location is loosely based off Bridgton, Maine, United States of America, Earth. The year is 2007. You have been selected to participate. Obedience ensures an enjoyable and immersive experience for our audience. If you have been granted a role, instructions will follow. Do not talk about the role. Do not attempt disobedience. If you have not been granted a role, your objective for this round is simple: survive.”

After that, the shackles may release promptly and allow your character to roam free. Or perhaps not — perhaps they've been given a role to play, and if so, further instructions will play out upon the screen. Once suitably briefed, characters will be released to their own devices. Beware the mist.

CHECK OUT THE CURRENT SETTING PAGE FOR DETAILS ABOUT THE LOCATION.

learn from the mistakes of others

A pair of unperturbed mall inhabitants decide to chance the mist. They're the first of a handful to trickle out the front doors, and they seem to get by just fine. About a minute ticks by, and they disappear completely into the dense fog that presses in from every direction. It's so anticlimactic that for a moment it almost seems stupid to feel uncomfortable by the sight of it.

Until precisely one half of a body is hurled abruptly and with great force from an indeterminate point in the obscurity. It's not a top half or a bottom half; no, it's a cleanly sliced left half, head to toe as though a neat line were cut down the middle. It slams into the transparent glass doors and crumples before them, still and obviously unmoving, slowly leaking.

After a few seconds, a dark tendril of something reaches out, curls around the jutting left ankle, and drags it with painstaking slowness back into the fog.

At least the rest of them probably made it, right?

Right?

Hopefully you weren't one of the others to follow their lead. If you were, that dark shape seems to be closing in awfully quick.

eff this, let's bounce

A pair of car keys can be found discarded or perhaps dropped in their owners' haste. Braving the mist when it's at its lightest and pressing the key fob will cause a car to beep politely, flashing lights to indicate its location in the fog. Take anyone willing to go with you and pile in. Try to get the hell out of dodge!

An excellent idea....

Within five miles of the car's journey the battery will die and the engine will stall. Consider yourselves effectively stranded and with no one but yourselves to blame. Perhaps help will come if you wait long enough? Hours, surely no more than a few days... Maybe you should consider braving the fog to get back? Five miles can feel like a hundred in conditions like these.

Either way, it seems like you're trapped in the car for about as long as R. Kelly got trapped in the closet during that one unfortunate CD.

radio chatter

Characters in the library and the church will be able to communicate via walkie talkie radio chatter immediately! Characters in the mall will not have this ability until later in the month, so any network style threads with a mall character will take place during Week Two of the October plot or later, after most people have already been fully introduced to the setting and given time to adapt.

Roles

Employee of the Month (Multiple)

Some characters will be printed wearing a designated kiosk uniform, their name sloppily stickered in slightly crooked letters onto a Dippin' Dots badge, or whatever store they may happen to be assigned to. The cool voice that introduces them to the mist will carry on to tell them that they'll be playing employee # _____ in this month's immersive experience. Their motivations and objectives are simple: go to work.

Except the role seems to be bugged, because they can never not go to work. If they leave the five or six foot radius of their designated post they'll begin to experience consequences, which worsen in severity based on distance and duration. The role doesn't end at mall closing, it doesn't end on Saturdays, it simply doesn't end. Hopefully next month's code push will have a bug fix; we apologize for the inconvenience.

(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the role will wear off within the first in-game week)

Aggravated Assault

Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of a CONVICTED FELON having recently been released on parole. Your motivation for this month's immersive experience is frustration. Having undergone hard time, you'll find that we have increased your aggression and temper characteristics, and lowered your inhibitions. Your objective is to find and begin an altercation with Snuff the Rooster, who will be playing the role of the person who turned you in, NARK. Your altercation must take place in a public space with witnesses, and may not stop until Snuff the Rooster is unconscious, evicted from the mall, or someone intervenes.

Thank you for your participation!

Consequences for not completing the objective in this role can be moderate to severe.

Snuff the Rooster

Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of NARK. Formerly a close friend and ally of CONVICTED FELON from Aggravated Assault, you were quick to roll on them during police questioning in exchange for your freedom. Your motivation is to turn over a new leaf, and get your shit together. Your objective is to survive the altercation.

Thank you for your participation!

The Lovers (Duo Role)

Congratulations, participant! You will be playing one half of a partnership role! Please seek out (character 2). Your motivation this round is love, and the need to protect your partner from threats both inside and outside of the mall. Your objectives is to greet your lover with a kiss and place them above all others. Do not act like strangers.
Consequences for not completing the objective in this role or failing to present a convincing couple can be mild to moderate.

Pathological

Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. Your motivation is to tell lies; at least one third of what you say must be unarguably untrue. Your objective is to keep these lies from being discovered as false.
Consequences for not complying with this role can vary from mild to severe, with the compulsion to tell larger and larger lies growing as time goes on.

Scared Speechless

Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. You may choose one person, stranger or otherwise. This is the only person you may communicate with, either verbally or through writing.
Consequences for not complying with this role are severe.

Glitches

potency error

Someone seems to have miscalculated the relative strength of intoxicants; all inhibition-altering substances seem to have been cranked up to eleven. One shot has the strength of three, though the taste seems to stay exactly the same. One or two drinks will quickly creep up on you. One of the joints found discarded in the bathroom trashcans will easily green you out. God forbid you've got anything stronger.

greatest movie of all time

Settling in to the relatively nice theater found at the far end of the mall is a decent way to make the time go by. The projectors are automated, and there are six different theaters that show flicks at scheduled times.

Except that every single one of them is showing Spider-Man 3. Every single one, every single showing, no matter what is advertised, becomes Spider-Man 3. That's how you know this is a horror game. Hope you didn't wander in by mistake because the doors will shut behind you and leave you to watch the entire showing. Please keep your feet off of the seats.

please replace toner cartridge

It seems there was an error in printing someone this first time around; everything came through but the visuals somehow. Your character is flesh and blood, fully formed, wearing tangible clothes even, but are completely invisible. Donning additional clothing causes it to clip out and then promptly disappear. Taking clothes off will cause them to reappear. Hopefully this gets fixed in the next lite patch.

(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the glitch will wear off within the first in-game week)

code bases by tricklet

Comments

Apologies for the slowness!!

[kiseijuu]

Cyril... [ Shinichi searches anything he knows about the name, rather desperately grasping for straws, but -- it's completely unfamiliar. ] I don't know anyone named Cyril. [ Admittedly, he's wondered if this might be some sort of government thing... and he's certainly a candidate for getting nabbed by the authorities. But brought to a shopping mall? Told to survive? Nothing adds up. And what's the deal with Migi being so weak? ]

You don't know how to set one up? [ That distracts his attention for a minute (his voice dropping once more to a whisper when one of the creepy NPCs makes a close round near their hiding spot).] Did you get one of the latest models? They're confusing, right...? Activating them is never as easy as tech support tells you it will be.

[ ...Because even when on the run in a freaky shopping mall, it's never a bad time to complain about technology. And he hasn't really... grasped that not everyone here is from the year 2018. So he's patting his jacket pockets for emphasis of how empty they are. ] Mine was gone from my pocket when I woke up!

[officerzeppelin]

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “You mean, like, in the movie?” Before Niles would have a chance to consider the question, Dean realized the improbability he’d have seen it, and he waved his hand.

“Nevermind. No. We normally don’t announce that we’re brothers.” He’d like to say it was because they were just that good, but unless people already knew them, they wouldn’t think Dean and Sam were related.

“We work well together, though.” And that wasn’t a lie. Argue though they (often) did, they had a lifetime of experience and innate trust that made them a great team. He was guessing it wasn't the same for Niles and his brother, but he didn't want to pry.

I'm sorry for the slowness!

[kiseijuu]

The description slowly draws a reaction from Shinichi -- eyes widening, brows lifting... but not wholly in surprise. There's recognition there, because what she's describing is very similar to the sort of monsters he knows back home. The "lost with the hunger" bit is the only part that doesn't suit the parasites who have come to Earth to steal human bodies and feed on others in return -- they're no less intelligent and cunning than before -- but it's the whole feeling of it, specific words she's used. Humans as food, the uncaring nature of the aliens. Those things still leave him sleepless most nights.

So he hesitates only for a brief moment before he nods with a slight swallow. "I've faced monsters too." Survived, though some days he's not sure if that's enough. "....I've killed them before. It's not that I wanted to. I.. I don't want to kill anything." Why he's admitting this is beyond him; it comes out of its own accord, almost. It's some thing he's had to hide from everyone around him for a few months' now -- so many secrets. How many secrets can one person carry before they demand release?

"But I can't do anything like that now." Shinichi glances downwards to his lap where his hands are draped; he's helpless without his own parasite's abilities. "All I can do is run from them." At least he's not alone about that, now. He looks back up to the mysterious woman. All this talk of monsters.. his own humanity pushes insistently forwards, seeking connection. "What is your name?"

[symbioticbeat]

"Retail life is the pits for sure, but I can't say I've ever been literally tied to the counter." Even though sometimes it felt that way.

So like many of the others she'd come across here, this woman has been brought in under odd circumstances. It seems like a waste to pull someone from another world just to stick them behind a counter in a place were there aren't any real paying customers. Why bother unless this is the sort of thing that gave the powers-that-be a laugh. Stupid powers-that-be...

"So you've already tried to get away before? What all have you done?" Speaking of odd circumstances, Gwen knows she's going to have to squeeze some more lies into this conversation soon. She has her own sort of tether to deal with.

[sanephiroth]

Sephiroth is equal parts patient and impatient. The swordsman in him likes the anticipation but the part of him that burned down an entire village wants nothing more than to lunge forward. When it seems Ignis is about to stray too far away, he starts to step closer, not attacking. Not yet. Because Ignis has brought up a rather sore point.

He spits out the words, a cold bitterness tainting it. "Once upon a time. That's what Sephiroth stood for." Three more steps and he decides he's been patient enough. "Not anymore!" With that he steps forward. Quick but having to step far closer than he's used to to allow the knife swing to connect. It's a wild slash but his eyes are sharp and he keeps his other hand ready for Ignis's counter attack.

[sanephiroth]

"I'm growing tired of your rambling," Sephiroth warns and while he understands maybe 10% of everything Wade's said, he has the general idea. The bigger threat within the mist.

He sweeps a hand over to the closed doors, where others are beginning to pile up barricades.

"Why not take a closer look?" Wade sure seems dumb enough to him to take such a step.

[avengeme]

"Maybe," he answers a bit cautiously but there's a hint of mischief in his eyes. He doesn't really betray his true feelings on their current situation, even if he is dealing with Natasha right now.

"Drank the sparkling water," he adds solemnly.

Re: Beth Greene | The Walking Dead

[riskierbusiness]

[The voice is one of a similar age, and one equally as confused. Um, I don't know what you mean, but I'm guessing it's like, not people walking out of here and going back home.

[Hope, is there really something so wonderful as --]There's a mall, like a real mall?

Re: Wade Wilson aka | Deadpool

[riskierbusiness]

[Nancy raises her hands, internally cursing herself for not noticing someone in the mists until he's practically upon her. What he's pointing a gun at is a short, extremely skinny, teenaged girl from the 80s. She looks like she would never be a threat to anyone.

Though that assumption would be wrong.]

She's utterly terrified until his last question.]

Am I your what?

Please replace the toner cartridge

[riskierbusiness]

Nancy is waving, hoping someone, at some point, at some time, will be able to see her, or at least feel the air around her move. She's wandered for hours through the mall, and while being invisible has its advantages (hello never worrying about grabbing anything and everything) its pitfalls outweigh them.

So, after hours of testing the few advantages, it's time to use one of the pitfall.

"Hello?" Enjoy the disembodied voice.

Nancy Wheeler | Stranger Things

[riskierbusiness]

1. Please replace the toner cartridge.

Nancy's used to being invisible. What's one more skinny teenage girl in a mall? Yet being actually invisible is strangely similar. Waving to people for assistance, nearly getting stepped on or bumped into, is nothing new.

What's also not going to be new? Surprising someone when that invisible teenage girl speaks up. "Hi, I need you to help me, please." It's a firm, confident voice, but completely disembodied since it looks like no one is there.

2. Scared Speechless

If she had a moment or two to think, she'd wonder what was worse. Needing to ask for help, or not being able to ask for help?

As both of them are equal at this moment, Nancy's unable to consider thing philosophically, after approaching a number of people, not even able to get out so much as a croak.

Here's attempt number 16, not that she's counting. "Hello?" Her voice sounds hoarse, from lack of use. She's not worrying about how her voice sounds, Nancy is relieved her voice works at all.

[dyeordie]

"Don't look so glum; at least you're having a good time," she says, not about to judge him. He probably hadn't even realized the implications — as most people don't when they're slightly more trusting than someone like Romanoff.

She rested her head in her hand, light eyes tracking the man, interested in what he'll do next.

The mistakes of others

[lochnessamonster]

[It’s not that Vanessa isn’t used to the strange and unusual. Actually, she’s well-acquainted with the strange and unusual. Probably (definitely) more so than the average person. But this whole thing is off the charts bizarro-world.

Strangely enough, a dead body, even one that barely resembles a human being anymore, is something tangible she can grasp. That most outside wouldn’t do anything but slip
Through her fingers. Whatever’s in the mist is dark shapes and strange noises. Comparatively, this is easy.

She’d gone to get garment bags from a nearby clothing store — there probably wasn’t a person anywhere who’d expected them to be used like this — and comes up behind Katsuya with a slightly grossed-out but steely and determined expression, unzipping one of the bags.]

“I brought these. Figured it’d keep the next person from stumbling over it.”

[It, because it was hard to think of the remains as a person.]

Let’s Bounce

[lochnessamonster]

“Are you sure this is a great idea?”

[Vanessa likes to have a good time. She likes to party. And she can down shots with the best of them, unless they happen to have an incredibly powerful healing factor, of course. But she also has a good, steady, reasonable head on her shoulders. And from everything she’s seen, leaving the mall is certain death. Of course, if someone doesn’t figure out a way out they’re probably all dead anyway once the food and water runs out.]

“We need to hang out by the door. See if we can figure out which direction the car’s in.” [With any luck, they’d hear the quick beep beep of the doors unlocking by pressing the right button on the key. And, if it’s close enough, maybe see headlights flash.]

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne was peering into the empty, headless neck of a mannequin when she heard the voice. Between being startled and never having seen a mannequin before, she let out a bird-like squawk and jumped back. Of course, the mannequin wasn't speaking to her. The voice hadn't even come from the same direction. But given how humanoid it was in appearance, it wasn't an entirely unreasonable kneejerk reaction.

Quickly, though, Ariadne got her bearings, whirling around so fast that her long, rope-like braid swung around her shoulders two more times before unwinding again.

There was a scent on the air. A warm and person-y smell. And she thought she could hear the bird-like flutter of someone's heart. But...

But she didn't see anyone.

Frowning, Ariadne bent her knees, her arms out to her sides and a bit behind her, like she was ready to take wing and fly away. "Hello?" she said softly, gray eyes sweeping from side to side.

late w starbucks | employ o' monthly

[viner]

Shuri can't speak to anyone. Normally this wouldn't be too tragic — actually, she quite likes long stretches of time without anyone to bother her — but when you've somehow wound up in some freaky horror movie rip off it's actually just a major inconvenience.

( And kind of scary, but that part she's more inclined to keep to herself. )

She's attempted to interact with a few of the strangers milling about the place, only to come up short each and every time. It's a strange sensation - she knows deep down that she isn't actually scared to interact with these people, but each approach is met with a sudden clamming of her skin and seizing at her throat that can only be described as fear. It's almost as if her body is going through the motions, following pre-dictated instruction even as her mind still functions as normal. It's incredibly unpleasant, extremely frustrating, and honestly it's really just dialling up her actual fear of whatever situation she's gotten herself into.

She spots Bucky before he notices her, and the relief at a familiar face is just about enough to convince her to attempt speech once more. Rolling up to the kiosk quickly, Shuri drops a hand down on the counter in front of him and starts to speak in a rapid, nervous babble, half-expecting to be cut off at the throat before she can even get a word out.

"Sergeant Barnes! Why are you selling Ice Cream? Where is everyone? Why are-"

The babble is suddenly halted when Shuri realises that she's actually speaking, unhindered by a tight throat or clenched jaw or intense churning in her stomach. She's just talking, albeit with about as much anxiety as one can muster, but she's still speaking and that alone is enough for her to beam. Enjoy that rollercoaster, Bucko.

[arkproject]

"Oh, don't start that," she answers in a long-suffering tone. "Nihilism isn't going to get us anywhere. It's extremely unlikely the WAU would have the processing power left to be capable of making a full environment like this. Modeling consciousness is one thing, but making environments is totally different."

And she would know, of course. Taking it as given that this is a created, digital environment seems wholly reasonable to her, although explanations behind that seem a long time coming.

Catherine lets that stand for a long moment and then finally turns to face him, sober and even a little uncertain in the flickering lights of the movie playing on the screen. "Simon... There's not a lot we can do right now. We just have to wait."

[arkproject]

"It was 2104 when I left," Catherine answers matter-of-factly. "The last hundred years represented significant technological advancements for humanity, so it feels like longer than it is." She can finally empathize with Simon on that point, that's for sure. Feeling the culture shock herself makes her just a bit more lenient on the get-going-we-have-goals impatience front.

Just a bit.

"It's extremely unlikely we've actually time-traveled, though. We shouldn't jump to the most absurd explanation first." That's the scientist in her, reasoning out loud automatically, with no thought to her audience.

doesn't bother me at all, I was a bit absentee this week myself :)

[pharmaka]

It does not surprise her that a mortal boy would recognize the description of monsters. The gods are forever tormenting those who are easy targets, enjoying their suffering, for nothing is so foreign and so fascinating to gods as pain. It does surprise her that he's killed him. A hero in the making? Or one of those quiet noble deeds that go unacknowledged, done in the dark, remembered by few?

Heroes tend not to apologize for those they kill, that is for certain. But it makes Shinichi more sympathetic to her, that he does feel regret. Circe knows that feeling too well.

"I am called Circe," she replies steadily, getting back up to her feet from where she had been kneeling before him. "And you? Come away now; we won't be doing any killing today, so there is no need to speculate, or to give them an easy target."

Circe drawn up to her full height is not an impressive figure. Her voice and form are so like a mortal's, she'd once been mocked endlessly by her mother and siblings for it: the harshness of her voice, the plainness of her features. But she has found it's served her extremely well with mortals, and in any case, she loathes to inspire fear in those that don't deserve it. She is just an unremarkable woman with messy auburn hair and strangely gold-light eyes, the one thing she'd taken true from her father, the sun.

[redclown]

Wade, rambling? Never!

"Yeah, you and me both, guy," he says somewhat absently as he crouches to take that 'closer look from behind the relative safety of the glass; maybe not quite as dumb as he seems. A sword didn't do this- he would know- and from what he can see of the still-gooey edges, it wasn't a laser or anything hot enough to cauterize. It doesn't look jagged like any of the times he'd been ripped in half either, nor does it look like teeth did it. He's actually genuinely puzzled (and pretty intrigued, truthfully), but he's not sure he wants to go full Columbo just yet.

"Curiouser and curiouser..." He stands, dusting his hands off for no reason, and then:

"I'm gonna call it- I think he's dead, Jim."

[cheffeur]

A soft frown-- but that likely is within his capabilities. He's never studied much beyond the most basic first aid, in the event that he may need it, but a change in wound dressings would be basic enough. Remove the bandages, ensure the wound was clean and healing, replace. Perhaps add in some sort of ointment or what have you.

He has no reason not to help the man-- but, similarly, he has no reason to do it, either. And so there's a short silence of consideration, before he finally nods.

"I believe I could. I assume your wound can't be too devastating, as you're up and about. It's just a matter of finding the supplies to tend to it."

And as apprehensive as he feels about everyone in this place, this man seems to mean no harm. Decide his decidedly more dodgy seeming explanations, there would be no sense in turning away any potential allies. "If we can find some bandages and antiseptic, I could assist in changing the dressings. We can start just by looking for kits, I'm sure they'll have some in this area of the store."

And, hey, it gives him something to do and focus on. He always operates much better with a clear goal, even if it's just something to occupy his time, as opposed to a farther-reaching one. He gestures to the next aisle over, before speaking. "I'll start there, if you want to take the other direction. Let me know if you come across something we could use."

[156]

It's true they had some things in common, but not as many as maybe they would have thought before. Niles and Frasier could look startlingly similar — face-swap similar — and even an untrained eye could pick that out if they were standing side-by-side. And, true to Winchesters' guess, they weren't the best lab partners, so to speak. Where Frasier struggled, Niles usually succeeded, and vice versa, up to a point. Where it didn't really seem to matter — from the cultural aspect — they certainly seemed to resemble one another.

"That must be a practice in patience and thrilling all at once. Don't you worry you might find your personal judgement compromised where your close kin is involved?" Niles considered his question and decided to rephrase: "Meaning, how do you maintain your objectivity in a situation where your brother is at risk and maintaining his safety is directly contrary to your mission?"

together we can backtag into infinity, lol

[cheffeur]

He's quiet for a moment, considering Shinichi's words. Just from that short comment- being told to survive. He can imagine their arrivals here were very similar. But he lets the man finish speaking, watching his more nervous mannerisms- The hands shoved into his pockets, carefully moving closer to speak more privately, the glances around and behind them.

He gives a short, sympathetic nod as he listens. "It sounds as though we've had very similar experiences. I presume you unexpectedly awoke here, were given the time and place, and told simply to survive, just as I was." Frustrating in its consistency and lack of information, truly. If there were something variable, it would at least give a new scrap of potential information. However, perhaps that was too much to expect from what seemed to be a recording.

And it's not as though the location and time were useful to him at all, anyway. He'd never heard of these places in his life-- and the year given was so far-off, it was a measurement with no context whatsoever.

"There does tend to be safety in numbers. Perhaps we should continue exploring, and decide where the most likely resources are."

He's about to continue walking, expecting Shinichi to follow, but that last comment... it was true, the majority of the 'people' here were so.... flat. Unresponsive, almost. Impossible to truly affect. They gave simple responses, few reactions, and almost seem to shy away from interaction.

It was disturbing, really. A sort of uncanny resemblance to humanity, but lacking any of the spark that truly made something alive. Ignis can't help but frown at the mention of them, gaze shifting over to the next shop over, as though to see if any were visible. "....Perhaps not handling them would be for the best. I'll agree, they feel... false in a sense. They look and act perfectly alive, but they don't converse. It's as though they're being dulled in some fashion."

[officerzeppelin]

Dean had to smile. "Are you sure you never worked for law enforcement?" Because he'd undergone psychiatric analyses before, and it usually took even the best (read: highly paid) head-shrinkers at least a session to get to Niles' hard-hitting questions. And they hadn't even made it through the first act of Spider-Man 3.

The question was rhetorical, though, and Dean moved on to the answer. "But yeah," he said honestly. He always put Sam's safety ahead of anything else. "That just makes us all the more careful, though." Not that the care they took to avoid trouble actually kept them out of it. That probably had more to do with the fact they were always running toward the danger rather than from it, but at least when they were together, they came out of it alive. Mostly.

AWESOME it works out well for us, lmao (and apologies for THE NOVEL sheesh what happened)

[cheffeur]

He takes the bottle easily, setting it down and beginning to neatly uncap all of the smaller jars he'd found. "I doubt stabbing would accomplish much. But I'd much rather cause a creature to choke on me, than allow it an easy meal." It's murmured darkly, even as he continues moving to sort glasses from lids.

The atmosphere is truly dismal. Both of them seem resigned to the extremely high chances of their deaths, and yet still doing everything they can to make it that much harder to kill them. Perhaps that was what being human was truly about. Stubborn pride overruling the grips of despair and rationality.

"More immediately, I'd thought we could puncture the lids to feed the cloth through. Give it a tighter seal around the top. Perhaps some wax at the base of the wick would prevent spillage, if we were moving too quickly." He shrugs his shoulders as he speaks. He's never made these before, no-- but again, the concept it relatively basic. It's just another object to explode into flames upon impact. He just wants to make sure they don't do so before.

The sound of wine poured into glasses is almost soothing in its simplicity. A dull gurgling of liquid, evenly spaced, pausing in between. The faint bubbling of air being displaced within the bottle. it's almost enough to let him focus on the tedium of the task, as opposed to answering any of Ryo's questions.

Because... no, he has no true goal here, and perhaps that's what's gnawing at him so much. Everything he's meant to be doing is back home. Back beside his comrades, at the command of his brothers and liege. He'd always had a role back there, always had a million and a half tasks to see to. He'd never had to question his own goals, because they were always so obvious. Protect Noctis. See to his health, to his well-being. Ensure he was on the right track to become a good ruler. That he was prepared. More personally, ensure that he had the opportunity to be happy, that the burden of the crown wasn't over-much. Even if that was as basic as picking up the slack in his duties or cooking him a tart to tuck into his lunchbox for school--

His lips press together, and he doesn't even realize that he's stopped portioning out the wine, absorbed in his thoughts as he has been. Because whether Ryo knows it or not, that was exactly the question he doesn't want to face right now.

(No, he doesn't have plans of his own. he never has. That's not what he's meant for. He's always been meant to serve.)

Finally, he opens his mouth as though to speak, but it's a bit more halting. "I'm.... unsure." Perhaps a bit too honest, but this man is a stranger and they're both as good as dead. Why not be honest? "I'm unfamiliar with this place. This fog, these monsters. I don't know that my compatriots are here or even alive."

He looks down at the half-filled mason jar on the floor in front of him, slowly forcing his hands to move again, to finish pouring out the liquor. Perhaps it's tempting to take a mouthful for himself, but he'll resist.

"Other than trying to survive, I'm not sure what there is to be done. Everything I'm meant to be is at their side." After all, the last sixteen years of his life at been in the service of the royal family. Without that--

What was he even doing?

There's not enough to fill the last jar, and so he does take the drink himself-- just a mouthful, entirely too sour and rancid, but even that is, in its own punishing way, a littler satisfying. "And yourself? If you manage to survive through this hellhole, what is your goal?"