ataraxionlogs | EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

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EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The Corridors.
WARNINGS: Space crazy, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: You may have simply been taking the lift with passerbys, but now you're hopelessly lost.
NOTES: Notes on the corridors.

Those on their way to meet a friend at dinner, or heading to their department, may never reach their intended destination. Instead, characters will find themselves in an unfamiliar part of the ship, abruptly stranded. All attempts to access the elevator will prove fruitless, as the doors cannot be pried open and the lift will not respond when called. It looks like you have no where to go but forward. Hallways will connect only to other hallways, giving you the impression that you're always on your way somewhere- but can't quite manage to arrive.

Time spent in the hallways will seem endless, but with luck you may find a break in the monotony. It is possible for characters to find one another, which would be preferable, as it's probably safer traveling in groups. Those that spend an excessive amount of time in their own company will find themselves feeling increasingly hostile and paranoid, until even the walls seem to be watching. That may not be such an exaggeration, with those murals that continually appear...

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[The problem with corridors all seeming the same is how you can get further and further lost. Luckily, Davesprite can cheat the shit out of that and wave to any rules that thought they could stop him. Or maybe that's a bad thing.

Whatever he's doing it anyway.

He puts his hands against the side of the hall and pushes, letting go of tangibility to slip into the hall beyond the wall. At first it's dark, then he turns on his orange glow. It's like suddenly having a flashlight turned on in front of you.] Whoever made this maze is a sick fuck, it's like they just set out to torture people in the most boring ways possible. We can't be normal about this. It has to be psychological.

Like they're- [That's when he spots Merlin and holds up his hands.] Whoops, hello.

[Here he was minding his own business and assured that this was going to be a stupid day. Then it descended into terror. The crow part of him is screaming at the sight of the other guy and those TEETH.

CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT.

So it takes a minute for him to wrap his brain around what the-CAT JESUS HOLY SHIT NO NO NO NO-had said. Davesprite opens his wings a little but not enough to be a threat display like he REALLY wants to.

Wanna go motherfucker? No one is chewing on him.

Ok, give him a minute here. He's been cat free for a while. The question.

Dave knows a cat...person. Ok.

Wow that traitor.

Ok.

He settles enough to hold up his hands.] I am Dave. One version of him. See there's two of us. One did this thing that let him escape the birdy transformation-

[CAT CAT CAT CAT CAT]

And one of us didn't. Same dude, just one of us is ghostly and feathery. Can you put a lid on that display, you're making me nervous.

[Okay, this guy was crazier than she thought. She gave his gun a look and snorted.]

It makes holes? What good does that do?

"That I've noticed. They got pretty upset when Mordecai and I put up a bounty for their loudmouth secretary," she replied with a touch of smugness.

It most definitely was not a short trip for either of the participants in this gross thread -- another entry on the extremely limited list of things they had in common. However long it had actually been since Brian had gotten on that fateful lift was, and would probably remain, a mystery. It felt like a week, but so did the nebulous pockets of time between all his other ~~deliberately vague~~ person-to-person encounters in this endless maze, and at a certain point--

Wait. Was that shrieking? It wasn't human, that was obvious -- he of all people should have enough experience with screams to make that call -- but it didn't sound, even at this distance, like the singular manticore he'd come across thus far. And it was getting louder. He couldn't shake the feeling he had heard it somewhere before, but it was only after several minutes of continued wandering, when the sound was less distorted by echoes, that Brian realized where. He could almost have laughed if he weren't, you know, him.

His mind went at first to Wichita, the only other person (besides that one biker guy who he could only assume was gone now; it was hard to tell when six people shared his face at any given time) who he'd seen get pursued by that turkey. (A turkey? He couldn't really picture the ship having more than one.) Still, it seemed like an equal-opportunity bird, and after the 13th Jump fiasco it was probably better that it be chasing after someone much less familiar. And hopefully less female. Now that he had something outside his own mind to focus on, even Brian was self-aware enough to realize the trek had taken its toll on him. Not that he wasn't himself at the moment, no; that he was so very much himself was the problem. What he had to keep reminding himself was a problem.

ANYWAY. Completely unaware of how just how much fecal matter was about to come hurtling, lightspeed, at the fan, he continued to follow the squawking, certain that they were both going around each other in circles and also certain that he didn't really care. It was at least something to do.

[She snorted.]

If anyone's getting thrown in a trash can, it's whoever is responsible for the lifts malfunctioning.

Well, I imagine if you put a hole in a person, it might cause some problems. But, you know. That's what bullets are for.

[Sarcasm aside, he turns to the guy, eyeing the strange gun.]

So what's this gel stuff look like?

Actually, I could think of a worse fate for whoever's responsible. Trash can doesn't sound that bad.

[Just... going to keep eyeing Epsilon awkwardly, yep.]

[ Good to know those mild hallucinations are in fact just a creepy murderous stalker ghost, then. He's slowly sinking into the less fun, more paranoid segment of the drug's effects - no doubt aided along by the endless hallways, and the inevitable sense of fear they seem intent on pressing into people's spines - when she speaks.

And he screams, and it's a strange mix of masculine and shrill that makes it altogether awful. There's another second for him to register who it is that just appeared out of nowhere, and when he does he throws his back against the nearest wall and raises his hands defensively. He would prefer to be brandishing a knife or a bottle at her, but a frantic survey reveals no obvious weapons in sight, so hands it is. ]

No - well, yes, but I'm not that easy, you psycho bitch. [ Wait. ] Easy as in easy to kill, clearly I'm easy on other fronts, but - [ But hang on, why is he even talking to her, she murdered him. ] Try it again and I'll strangle you with my bare hands. I'm deceptively strong, and don't think I won't beat the shit out of a girl, because I will!

[His appearance relaxes her further. Just a regular person, then, not a monster at all. (Sure, Kaylee, because people can't be monsters...)]

I'm just nervous, is all. I didn't know anyone else was out here, 'cept those monsters...

[When it comes to the emotional state of others, Mordecai isn't always the most perceptive of people. He pauses briefly to have a sip at his canteen, caps it, then sighs.]

Damn. Well, I'm gonna let some people know we're in here, see if maybe anyone's got an idea. What's your name, kid?

[Since getting stranded, she hadn't stuck around in one spot for too long. She had learned she and Soysauce weren't the only ones stuck here. It seemed to be the same story each time, some lift broke down and refused to work.

Having spent some time in the eerie quiet of the halls, she was grateful when she saw a figure in the distance ahead of her and hurried to catch up with him.]

Hey!

[ it takes her a little while before she's stopped laughing, but she did hear all of that. ramble, ramble, ramble. it's a shame he doesn't have any weapons, because she doesn't either. not that she's feeling all that angry or murderous right now, quite the opposite actually. the plot thickens! he died, but he's not dead, not like her. some part of her can sense that, or maybe it's just something inside her that wishes for that same rush of anything like he's feeling now. so what if he's afraid of her, or angry, or whatever it is. he's got a pulse that's likely rushing, and a heart that's hammering away, and some part of her misses that.

but not enough to let it upset her.

he's pressed himself against a wall, which is funny because boy, she didn't even have to put any effort in trapping him. not that she's going to use any force now. but one second she's there, then she's gone, and in what probably just feels like a cold gust, she's right in front of him. he's.. tall, which makes the whole intimidation thing a little tricky, but Hayden's pretty great at looking completely manic when she's laughing, so who knows. ]

Oh, my. Is that a promise?

[Should the lift take that long to do that? He starts noticing the pauses more than he pays attention to his other self. Each second too long is one more tick on his paranoia gauge.

Davesprite is wary and alert with Caldescratch in his hands by the time Dave is cursing. He shifts, so if anything comes through the lift doors it has to get through him first. As a secondary precaution, he shuts off his glow.

The lift opens to a darkened hall and that's eerie with the lack of light and the glow of working machinery. Davesprite doesn't move and the lift doors stay open. This is your stop, folks.]

It was a familiar situation, and a familiar sound. Long fall boots echoing empty halls, no soul in sight, turning down hallways only to have found herself in a maze...

Home sweet home, and at least it's just her with no AI trying to kill her. Not yet, at least. Every so often she'd try a wall, firing her ASHPD only to have the blue or orange light bounce off uselessly, but she'd keep trying. It wasn't like her to give up.

Every so often she'd pause in front of a mural, wondering if they could be used as markers. The designs were familiar, morbid, attempting to tell a story, and she wondered if that man behind the scenes was still here, if these were in fact of his doing. Wheatley said he had been here, so it was likely. And maybe, eventually, she'd happen upon an arrow, a message, something that would assist her trials against this ship.

A sound of someone else approaching disturbed her thoughts, and she turned to face whoever approached, portal gun at the ready.

[Within the time he had been wandering around he had already ran into and subsequently got separated from the people he met along his way while trying to find a way out and he still wasn't having much luck with that.

It was like he was walking in circles the more he kept going, it wasn't until he heard someone call out that he looked up and recognized her as someone he'd met before during one of the jumps...not that he knew her name, given she didn't exactly tell him that. He smiles at first, only to shake his head at her question] No, I don't actually— sorry. I know it's some part of the ship, but this isn't a level I'm familiar with.

"What's the worst that could happen," she says flatly, which is really Bennett's way of saying she's skeptical (though she's skeptical of almost everything) but she'll go along with his plan anyway.

"I mean, sure. I can't seem to figure it out so. Maybe if you take the lead we'll get somewhere."

[Tobias' head jerks hard toward the sound of his voice, the movement sharp and avian. he doesn't blink.]

What?

[he'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he doesn't know, immediately, what he's asking. your name, doofus. Tobias nimbly sidesteps the query.]

Yeah, maybe someone's posted about it on the forum.

[his heart leaps into his throat. this could be the chance he's looking for; while this man is distracted he might be able to morph and morph back. he only has eight minutes, he doesn't have a choice.]

I'll check too.

[he glances sideways at her, just once, a quiet amusement on his face. she didn't look much older than Stiles, so it was strange to see her looking as studious as she did.]

Stilinski.

[he offers in return instead of pointing out that she was rambling.]

I was heading to the passenger decks for lunch.

[he whirls, because at some point he lost Gwen and he's not sure how long it's been, but it's dark and quiet and her sudden appearance makes every nerve ending go off. instinct and reflex have him leveling his gun, his blue eyes more like grey flints and not fully seeing her when he looks at her.

if he pulled the trigger, there'd be a bullet between her eyes and near point-blank range.]

[The sidestep doesn't get past him. He keeps an eye on the boy, frowning.]

Sure, you go for it. Wanna tell me who you are, first?

[Maybe he'd just misheard him, somehow.]

[He starts out trying to remember as much as he can about the hallways: how many times he's turned to the left and right, so that he could at least get back to where he started. But the hallways are endless and identical, and after awhile Noah just can't keep up with it anymore.]

[He's frustrated, but not panicked, and only a little tired. Treadmill time is finally paying off. He can keep going until he finds something or someone.]

Breadcrumb trail...

[Noah's parents never really read him bedtime stories. His father sometimes enjoyed telling him about the Battle of Megiddo or the Industrial Revolution as he tucked him in. But he definitely remembers something about a breadcrumb trail. If only he had some flour, water, salt, and yeast. Oh, and an oven. But all he has is another hallway, another corner to turn - left, this time.]

You're right, I wasn't being optimistic. We're just going to die slowly and terribly.

(but that's in an upbeat voice, so that works, right?)

[She smirks, but she doesn't flinch away from the weapon. Actually, it feels almost cozy. She does take a step to the side.]

Easy, Cowboy, you might want to watch that sidearm. [Once she knows she's out of the line of his weapon, she glances around.]

Your kid is looking for you. [She moves forward a touch, but then frowns. She definitely knows something is not right.]

How long have you been in these corridors?

No, definitely not. She sort of twists herself away from him a little, trying to make sure he won't try to grab her pieces of paper. Yeah, she's acting a little childish about it but Bennett really doesn't care. She doesn't care if her petulance angers people even when she's in a good mood. With everything that's happened, her mood is...definitely leaning towards sour and prone to temper-losing at the most mundane of things.

"I'm fine. I'm not hurt, no. I'm tired and frustrated, if anything," she explains, tucking her notebook and the mess of papers back into her bag.

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EVENT; LIFTS & CORRIDORS

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THIS IS WHAT WE CALL THE MUPPET SHOW

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SO VERY OKAY but omfg hayden

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Sure! =D

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Noah - ota

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