#experimenting: open starter

[heartfe1t]

open starter. ( @indiestarter )

muse: julia cornwall, early 20s, very innocent and inexperienced socially... partially due to feeling unwanted at home and so being stunted generally ... she's been coming more out of her shell with college- so maybe that's how she's met your muse? she's fandomless and v much more of an oc for me. she probably has like maybe two drinks and says she's drunk whether or not she's totally really feeling a lot who knows- but it feels like a lot for her- since she never drank before...

    ❝    i'm sorry but how am i supposed to have a fun night out when last time you got so drunk you walked out into the street in front of a police car    ❞    she's hesitant- that much is obvious.

[explodcor]

Katsuki was staring hard at the Furby doll that was gifted to him by whoever the fuck. It had been set down in front of his dorm room and rather than throw it away, he took it inside. He'd heard of these cretins, but he'd never seen one in person.

As soon as he placed it on the desk, the eyes of the purple furred toy fluttered open. It began making a string of incomprehensible sounds that Katsuki immediately hated.

"Hate it," he huffed and turned it over. He reached into one of his drawers for a screwdriver and removed the back compartment the batteries rested in. After pulling said batteries out, he set the Furby back down.

Though, as he turned around to get his laptop out, there was still a noise that escaped the toy. Katsuki paled, going stiff and whirling around only to see the Furby's eyes fluttering open and staring back at him.

"How the fuck--?!"

Nope. NOPE. FUCK THIS!

Katsuki grabbed the toy and made a beeline towards the balcony. As soon as he stepped out onto it, he yeeted the Furby into the air with a loud BOOM of an explosion.

Fuck haunted Furbies!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[abyssembraced]

Vee's public floor had been her pride and joy, once. Kids loved it! They loved the trivia quizzes, the prizes they'd win, and even for the visitors who weren't confident enough to put their knowledge to the test, the arcade sections were always bustling with activity. As far as she was concerned, it was the best place Gardenview had to offer. She'd always poured countless hours into making it that way.

But now? It was empty. Lifeless.

The lights were permanently dimmed. Puddles of ichor littered the ground. The only "guests" left to pay a visit were the unwelcome Twisted husks that shambled about, wandering aimlessly in search of living Toons to chase and hunt.

This wasn't the first time she'd been back to her floor since the start of the Ichor Operation, and all things considered, the place was actually in decent shape compared to some of the other abandoned locations in the Center. But... All the Twisteds were away from her right now. She had a moment of peace. Some time to take in just how far the place had fallen from its former glory.

...A moment of peace, but not quiet. Familiar, grainy voices crackled from a television above her, and Vee couldn't help but draw her gaze to the animation it displayed.

"𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗!"

"𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘?"

"Mmmhh...... Six!"

"DING-DING-DING!"

Ugh.

She looked away with a grimace.

Sure, Winning Big wasn't the worst episode she starred in. Hell, the promotion poster for an even worse one was plastered all over the walls of this very floor. (She never had been able to convince anyone to take those down.)

But still, did this scene really have to be part of the only show footage to survive the shutdown?

[hellsfavor]

category: open starter

leave it up to kimberly to be caught in the crossfire of a random couple fighting in the street. mentally shattered from dealing with emotionally neglected children at her job. ( god, she hated working at an arcade ) now? she was faced with a cheating scandal on her break. luck was on her side. time ticking away as the couple began to get physical, the first pushes were ignored on her end. see no evil, hear no evil.

“please, please fucking work.” the sound of contact distracted her battle with the worn down lighter. “have you guys considered couples therapy?” kimberly questioned genuinely. embarrassment filled the small public space as the couple retreated back towards their vehicle. “fuck it out. you’ll be fine.”

silence took tweleve minutes to achieve, three of those minutes were spent fidgeting with her lighter; in her peripheral vision she could make out the silhouette of a person, entering her beggar era. “you wouldn’t happen to have a light on you? matches? a rock with some sticks?” anything would suffice to finish her last two hours.

[unique-monstrosity]

The sound of violin trickles in the quiet of the music room. Soft and well balanced, the instrument is snug between her collarbone and shoulder and her bow glides across the strings.

She doesn’t notice the presence of whoevers come in till a tiny flick of her ear behind violet curls and she’s abruptly pausing to see who it is. Making a quiet confused face.

“ Umm…..” Jasper starts before she finds a bit more of her voice again and clears her throat awkwardly shifting her posture as she glanced between the instrument and the person. She hadn’t anticipated anyone else using the band room, or coming in while she was practicing.

“ if you’re looking for the music teacher he left awhile ago “ Jasper trails off unsure

[clochanam]

because i'm still reeling from the existence of the cheesecake factory menu, i have a headcanon now that aisling just assumes nobody else has heard of the cheesecake factory. she thinks it's this really niche, best-kept secret kinda vibe. she thinks she's among a tiny tiny tiny percentage of people who know it exists, and the kids refuse to correct her, because the absolute hilarity of her sincerely trying to explain it to people is beyond words.

[wendyfulmother]

"This is so much intel to get in under thrity seconds...I'm dreadfully sorry, can you please run that by me once more?"

[petrifiedcrange]

❝ The ship can't survive without its unicorn, Iz, ❞ Frenchie says quietly yet matter-of-factly as he wipes Izzy's feverish brow with a cool cloth, lingering for a moment to brush a loose strand off before turning to the side to soak the warmed up cloth in the bowl of cool water again, both his voice and gestures an aching mix of exhaustion, sadness and tenderness, ❝ We'll crash and burn before we ever reach another shore. ❞

There are tears welling in his eyes and he doesn't want Izzy to see them, doesn't want to distress his already overtaxed system even more, so he takes an extra moment to wring the cloth over the bowl while blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

And yet, a sob weasels its way into his words as he adds, almost an afterthought ( that sounds far more bitter than it has any right to be ):

❝ I thought you knew that. ❞

[ OPEN for Izzy post-S2 because ouizzy is something else entirely as a ship and I need more of them and because this phrase about the ship and its figurehead/unicorn appeared in my head and I thought that it would suit Frenchie the most because if someone knows about mythical symbolism of figureheads etc, it’s him also, he's upset his boyfriend seems to be giving up ]

[neverendingford]

.

[quietlyblooms-gone]

ALSO while i’m cleaning, tossing this out there—

[mimistjames]

( @indiestarter )

    ❝    i think you should only say pretty things to pretty girls.    ❞     a pause as mimi rests her wine glass down on the table.    ❝    and for the record- being drunk isn't an excuse. i've heard that one far too many times.    ❞     

[hymnoire]

Wanted plot :    Together, we conquer, we reign.

Looking for a companion/cult leader associate/king for Kaeleeana ( Tag / Bio ) . Plot inspired in an original lore from midsommar roots to a bene gesserit spirit, in modern times/near future. Transhumanism/dune coded core.

Kaeleena Nara, Mother Supreme of the Church and Sisterhood of Misericorde. The time has changed and so did the world. Now, forces are colliding. She raises daughters, mutated humans of great abilities with the purpose of making the world theirs. A cult, some would ask? A family, she would answer. The sisters of the Sisterhood of Misericorde then find their way to the arms of powerful men, human men, to bare their child and extend their reach. She too, the Mother Supreme, seeks such a partner—but not just any man. Only the strongest, the most formidable of all. He will be her equal, a reflection of the power she wields. A partnership. Should they take the world in their own hands together now? With what he is capable of, what she is capable of as well, if a war between humans and mutants arise, they shall win.

"I promise to never use my abilities on you and to honor our partnership," Kaeleena says, her voice a smooth lullaby. "My daughters, the Sisterhood of Misericorde, will serve our common interest, just as you provide your weapons and soldiers for our shared conquest. I also promise to cherish and love you through this union of ours." Her intense eyes lock with his, a silent challenge in their depths, burning with the weight of her words.

He smirks, his fingers gripping her chin as he tilts her head toward him. "Is such a sadistic, cold heart of yours even capable of love?" he murmurs, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

Kaeleena's lips curve into a wicked smile. "Doesn't that make us perfect for each other, my Sovereign of Terror?" she replies, her voice velvet.

[tremendousmothergoat]

Toriel warily eyes the VR headset that Asriel left out for her. He said he'd loaded up some fun games or experiences she might want to try, but didn't elaborate much past that. But still that it was something she should try out? She didn't know enough about technology to have any idea what was on that thing..

Still, she picked up the controllers and put on the headset. Might as well give it a shot!

[burnishedrebel]

Open Starter

Colt Adams - 32, heterosexual, bodyguard

Open to mutuals and non-mutuals

Connection Ideas - Client he's protecting; boss' wife/gf or daughter; client's wife/gf or daughter; best friend's girl; best friend's sister

++

Rain lashed against the cabin windows, but Colt remained unbothered, having weathered far worse during his days in the military. Still clad in his battered leather jacket for warmth, however, Colt stretched out and propped his bare feet on the coffee table, just near his abandoned boots and socks. He sat comfortably, only tilting his head towards his companion when they called from the adjoining kitchen to ask about drinks. 

“Black coffee or sweet cocoa will do me fine, darlin,” he drawled in his Kentucky accent. “Maybe a drop of bourbon, too, if it’s in the cupboard.” He could’ve turned back, but he couldn’t resist adding, “Mighta said this already, but your old man won’t like knowing it’s just you and me here all weekend… not that I’m complainin', of course.”

[outoftheirdifferences]

Open starter (that I meant to write on the day itself but ran out of time!) Feel free to come interact with Lauren!

Christmas day was... never a time when she wanted to be around home.

It wasn't that anything bad happened around home. Rather, it was what didn't happen, what never happened. Sure, there were presents, there were a few of the trappings of the holiday season.

There was never the love there. She and her dad both knew that he was just going through the motions to appease her; he'd never wanted a kid and even so many years later didn't know what to do with the one that had been thrust on him. He was eternally distant, and she'd long ago learned better than to try and change that.

And that was the reason she couldn't stand to be at home. Not on a day like this.

The park, though... it may not have been much, but that, at least, was always here for her. The one haven of nature in the oppressive grey landscape of the city, the place where she'd first met her best friend, and the one place she genuinely loved. Her sneakers scuffed through the light layer of snow that had made it through the city's protective dome, and she relished the fresh breeze even as its chill drove her to pull her very worn hoodie tighter around her.

Maybe later she'd text one of her (very small number of) friends and see if any of them were free to hang out for an hour or so. But for now, this was the only place she wanted to be.

Up ahead, she thought she could see someone moving her way. The park was quieter than normal, but not deserted even on Christmas. Dog walkers in particular still passed to and fro, occasionally wishing her a Merry Christmas in passing that she could only accept with forced cheer; and she prepared herself to do so once more if this next passer-by should speak as well.