open.

[tg]

CHARACTERS: Dave Strider and OPEN.
LOCATION: Lifts or kitchens! Feel free to utilize either of the provided starters or to start something up on your own.
WARNINGS: N/A! TBA! Either or both! Will edit as/if necessary
SUMMARY: Dave Strider farts around a spaceship. Go poke him. He's stupid.

NOTES: Events in this log are flexible, so we can backdate or forward-date as your needs may require. Also, I'm cool with both prose and action: feel free to reply with your preference, and I'll match your style. :|b


OPTION A - LIFTS
Maybe your character is heading somewhere specific, or maybe they're just wandering about aimlessly. Regardless of their particular circumstances, they eventually come to one of the lifts and hit the call button, and when it finally arrives, it seems the lift is already occupied. There's a fifteen year old in Ray-Ban aviators and red pajamas, sitting on a green ghost pogo ride that's obviously been uprooted from the backyard of some kid who hadn't hit puberty yet. As a result, the fifteen year old swathed in red currently occupying its plastic saddle might be a tad too tall for the darn thing.

Dave looks up from his compromised vantage point as if he's not the jackass on a yard ornament. "What floor?"


OPTION B - KITCHENS
But maybe your character was headed somewhere specific, and that place happened to be one of the kitchens. In that case, Dave's already there, standing by a counter, green ghost pogo ride occupying the stool beside him. He's stirring some instant coffee powder into hot water and talking to himself.

Or to the pogo ride. It's debatable.

"—can't believe I miss that shitty coffee pod thing. Sure, this stuff touts itself as instant, just add water and bam, insta-stimulant, but it's not goddamn instant enough."

Because having to stir thoroughly is way too much work.

Comments

[culver]

The plan today had been to go for a quick ride on Horse and then take Dog with her on a run. She had been keeping up with that, even if she wasn't quite up to the amount of time Dave had suggested to her. But Nill has full confidence in her ability to get there eventually, as long as she keeps with it. So the gardens is her first thought when she gets on the lift.

At least she knows the jackass on the yard ornament.

This time, instead of an oversized shirt and jeans, she's in a red camisole along with shorts, long red socks, and the purple sneakers that had showed up in her locker this past jump. All she can do for a few seconds is stare at him, not entirely sure what she's looking at. But at least she gets on the lift before the doors closed. That doesn't stop the staring, sadly.

[tg]

(Hmm. Girl looks good in red. Good thing she can't see him give her a once-over from behind his shades.)

Anyway, Nill stares at Dave, Dave stares at Nill, no one says a word after he's asked his standard lift-butler question. A few seconds becomes an awkward pause of staring at each other in a stationary elevator, and then, Dave finally realizes it.

"Right. You're mute, but you've got fingers. Flash 'em. What floor can I doorman you to, Nill?"

[culver]

(You mean good thing Heine can't see you give her a once-over.)

She actually hadn't been waiting for him to realize that; she had simply not know what to do. But at least he's given her an out that won't make her look like a total idiot. Automatically, she holds up the number of fingers that it takes to get to the gardens, whatever that might be.

[tg]

(Sure, let's go with that.)

Let's be honest: the only one looking like a total idiot in this lift is the one gently rocking his ass against a knock-off Slimer ride. Regardless, Dave hits the button for the O2 Gardens, and the elevator stirs to life.

"So, what's up in the gardens? Aside from greenery and horse shit?"

going with good ol' Option A

[yardbird]

Murphy actually is headed somewhere.

Here is a sleepy-looking man, who Dave will find himself being accompanied with in the lift. For a guy who's headed off to do his daily chores, he looks like he's only halfway through his "morning" routine.

Well, at least he didn't leave his room in his underwear. But it might very well explain his lack of surprise when he's facing a teenager settled on... whatever the hell that hideous thing even is. Looks like something out of a demented playground or something.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Murphy manages in a muffled, groggy voice: "Oxygen Gardens."

good choice 1/2.

[tg]

So Dave hits the right button, and the lift stirs to life, and for all of maybe one and a half floors, Murphy is treated to the beautiful silence of an awkward elevator, broken only by the soft creaking of Dave's yard ornament as he rocks back and forth gently in the saddle of the green ectoghost.

2/2.

[tg]

Of course, he can't keep up the quiet for much longer.

"You look like you had a late one."

Nudge nudge. Wink wink.

[yardbird]

The brief duration of that silence is appreciated, even if his headache could do without the squeaky shift of metal. He stops then in mid-yawn when Dave breaks the ice with that particular question.

What?

"Wh... What?" What. "No, I just... slept in."

That's it.

[tg]

Dave leans back dangerously far, almost threatening to fall off the darn pogo ride, face smug as hell.

"And we all know why that happened. You're too good a conversationalist to pass out after you pop a good one then?"

kitchens

[redhotsummers]

"....that thing is fucking ugly."

Alex strolls in, taking one look at the thing, giving a snort, before going to rummage for food. Bozo, however, like a typical cat, goes to fuck around, and jumps on the table, and then onto the pogo ride, meowing as he tried to keep purchase.

[tg]

"You're just jealous that I've had my silky thighs straddling its plush saddle, hanging on for dear life, and you haven't," Dave shoots over his shoulder, finally stilling his coffee stirring. "See, this little guy knows where it's at. Gunning for a ride on the Ecto-Express, aren't you, little dude."

[redhotsummers]

"...I really didn't need to know your thighs are silky, Dave." Alex laughed and grabbed a container of peanut butter and a spoon, moving to sit across from his friend. Bozo, for his part, let out a meow, then jumped into Dave's lap.

"I'm pretty sure your thighs can have it all to themselves."

[tg]

"Well, okay, but you're missing out on both fronts." Dave rubs one of his thighs suggestively, then moves to pet the cat instead. "And while you go without, the cat gets to sit on Slimer and test the give on these smooth saddle-straddlers. You're deprived, dude."

BBbbbbbbb

[seered]

Some of this seems a little familiar.

There weren't pogo rides, of course, but she does recall a conversation or two had over cups of coffee--or at least, cups of coffee for Dave.

Rose is on the quest for a beverage of her own, but all that is forgotten in favor of leaning on the door frame and watching her brother's caffeine-related exploits intently.

"I can't imagine that tastes any good at all."

[tg]

Well, hell. Dave's name is basically a fucked up form of déjà vu—what was anyone expecting?

He looks up at the sound of her voice, glancing away from his stirring and miraculously managing to not spill any. "Don't leave it at imagining. This here mug of shit water can be yours to sip at disapprovingly at the low, low price of you taking it off my hands."

An offer she can't refuse, surely.

[seered]

Rose already knows this coffee is going to taste like crap. She's more interested in the pogo ride anyway--though Dave has already told her that he'd found some of her belongings in his locker, she hadn't thought that maybe finding other people's things was something of a common occurance.

"Since you're being so kind as to offer," she begins, smirking a little--her eyes are on the pogo ride. "But you made it, you deserve the first sip."

[tg]

She hasn't seen him run around in John's pajamas yet. Or Davesprite run around in hers, but anyway. Dave pushes the coffee across the table, clearly in her direction, doesn't matter if she isn't looking.

"You sure? I never mastered the art of swallowing, so I backwash like a motherfucker."

Option A woah backtag

[soyed]

Leave it to Dave to wander around aimlessly, but don't forget to add moronic to that description. As big as this spaceship was, he was beginning to think he understood the layout of the place a little bit better. Then again, one unsuspecting turn (or maybe that was four "I'm really lost" turns) Dave found himself in a completely new area. He didn't want to know this place, he wanted off this pandemoniac shitstorm, but maybe, just to be safe, he should figure out the lay of the ship in spaceland.

One good thing however (and this is a very rare thing) whenever he felt the walls were starting to close in after walking for a while, a lift would always be there in the distance for him in his time of poor survival skills. Pressing the button for the lift, Dave waits like the trained citizen he is. As the door slowly opens after the ding! Dave's eyes start to match the speed of the opening doors as his eyes grow at the sight that greeted him.

What the hell?

This kid, or teen, was wearing sunglasses, red PJs, and sitting on a- is that Slimer on a pogo stick?

"Uh," he draws out the word and steps inside.

Dave is careful where he goes, making sure to slide all the way against the wall as if both occupants in the lift were going to eat him; or slime him. "Up."

He forgets which floor he initially wanted to go, and up is the only word he can manage to say.

\o/

[tg]

Dave turns to face the other dude's godforsaken corner haven and gives him as much of an incredulous look as he can manage from behind near-opaque lenses.

"Up," he parrots. "Will that be up one floor or ten? Or should I pick any old upper floor and try your luck at lift-roulette?"

[soyed]

Don't worry, Dave can sense that look. He's also the one who's worried.

Maybe he shouldn't have gotten in the elevator. Maybe he should slide across the walls and on his way out, avoiding the center as much as possible. He knows that when the lift starts, the lights will suddenly go out. That's how it always begins. Then he'll feel a horrible ripping sensation in his stomach, and when the lights go on again, his insides will have painted the shiny interior with a new red tint.

While the anger of being mocked at is present in Dave, he's too focused on horse-Slimer to comment back with his own sarcasm- and maybe fearful of being the new elevator decor. "Yeah, I'm not letting you pick for me." He finally remembers the floor he wanted to go on and feels like he should press the button himself. But he doesn't want to get any closer than he already is. "But you can press five."

Dave didn't even want to go to the upper floors now, he wanted to run. He probably should have.

[tg]

Yeah, this Dave isn't worried at all. Sure, elevators are the devil's dumbwaiter, and he loves serving up some freaky shit, so there's that. Not to mention, tons of horror tropes—including some this spaceship seems fond of—revolve around claustrophobic steel boxes and the nightmare fuel behind the sliding doors, but what's the worst that could happen?

They could get deposited in some godforsaken, rat-infested shithole again. Or they could come down with blue shits, that was fun times. Whatever it is, Dave is pretty sure he can handle it. Probably better than the neurotic weirdo off in his little cootie corner.

Dave moves to press the button labeled five, but instead he lets his finger hover in the air, leaving the button untouched. "What's on the fifth floor? Kitchen, bar, gym? Don't get me wrong, but you don't look like the bench-pressing type."

option a

[purrfectlycute]

We're going to pretend that this isn't ridiculously late.

In an increasingly rarer event where she decides to venture out without her sweaty companion, Nepeta decides on a little jog around the ship, maybe checking up (read: spying on) her pals. Now that she has to keep up with Equius and calm his bouts of rage, she's gotta get back in shape and stop sitting in front of refrigerators while eating all the contents.

She steps on the lift wearing a sports bra and pair of shorts. Any appeal this might have is immediately lost given that she's as sweaty as Equius in the middle of an Aradia fantasy and probably smells like a soggy cat.

As the door opens, she gazes upon the pogo-riding glory and/or catastrophe that is Dave Strider. Their gazes down upon these two teenagers and gives a nod of approval at their wonderful existence.

For her part, Nepeta stares at Dave a few seconds--baffled, amused, but mostly baffled--before stepping into the lift.

"Well I was going to go back to my room, but now I'm curious to know where you're heading to beclaws by looks of things, it's going to be a ton of fun."

OH SNAP

[tg]

Sure, we can pretend, and quite frankly, we'll succeed, because we're awesome like that. We have been to Mister Roger's Neighborhood, and we have visited the Land of Make Believe. And of course, we're also dead wrong about this not being ridiculously late, but this is how we roll.

Dave regards the perspiration-saturated cat troll and makes the split second decision that no matter what else happens in this lift, the one thing that is definitely not going to happen is him spending more time than he absolutely must in close quarters with her stank.

"Nowhere specific. Probably just down a hallway for a race rematch with a certain she-hunter."

So smooth.

[purrfectlycute]

Wow Dave wow. Growing up in a cave hasn't prepared her for a life of deodorant have some culture sensitivity. It also hasn't prepared her for a life of shaving her body hair. Not that anyone cares, it's just going to be pretty prominent when she lifts up her arms to give Dave a fresh whiff of her BO.

"In that case you're lucky you caught me after an intense work-out! Beclaws otherwise? You'd have no chance. Not even with your mighty, bouncy steed."

For emphasis she gives the pogo ride a little shove to see if Dave will bounce around on it.

"You look like a one-man wiggler party."

Is that a compliment or teasing? Who knows.

[tg]

Hate to break it to you, but down in the depths of dark, dank caves, there is no culture. All that lurks along cave walls are early man's rudimentary attempts at anthropological evidence, the cave dweller's first stab at what would later be more successfully translated into flags staked out on the moon and giant phallus-shaped monuments clawing holes into the ozone layer.

Oh wait, 'anthropological' doesn't apply to trolls, does it? So much for cultural sensitivity.

Dave instantly regrets challenging Nepeta and her STRONG stonk to anything, but backing out is no longer an option. Also, he bobs around appropriately as she twangs the spring on his uprooted ride, somehow managing to control his expression and not just cover his nose like the culturally inappropriate asshole he is on the inside.

"I do love to wiggle," he offers blandly, vaguely gyrating his hips to punctuate the point, because honestly, he never knows quite when to suck it up and move on with the point.