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Pluviosa Mods ([personal profile] pluviosamods) wrote in [community profile] pluviooc2024-03-18 02:45 pm
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TEST DRIVE 02

TEST DRIVE

Hello, and welcome to the second Pluviosa Test Drive!

This Test Drive corresponds to Days 4-12 in the ship calendar, and will run until around the game's next major event. You can get a better idea what's going on in the most recent Game Update which covers Days 5-8. Currently, character IC housing is not in operation yet; it is expected to open on Day 9 (part of the way through the Test Drive period). Otherwise, the ship is largely in the state described on the Setting page and in other game information.

Test Drive threads involving characters who are accepted are considered canon to the events of the game unless otherwise agreed by players/mods. Pluviosa does not do welcome mingle logs nor does it have any kind of in-character welcome information, making your test drive threads your character's arrival to the game setting. That said, mod-run interactions such as formal exploration and/or interactions with the Ship as an NPC are not available on the Test Drive.

It is advised that potential players familiarize themselves with the Premise page, the Rules/Session Zero page, and at least the first few paragraphs of the Setting page. As Pluviosa is a horror game, we especially encourage players to be aware of the content warnings that will be major themes of the game. If you have any further questions, you can ask them on the QUESTIONS header in the comments!

If you're test driving a character, you're welcome to join the game Discord and hang out and meet your fellow players!

ARRIVAL - LIKE THE RAIN


You wake up. You remember waking up, right? In another place, another time...

There's blood running down your fingers. Outside, the rain isn't pounding, yet, just a gentle patter...

Or is it?


As characters gain fuller awareness of their surroundings, they will realize that there is, in fact, no blood on their hands (save any that might have already been there). It feels as though they lost focus for a moment and hallucinated, but the hallucination ended with them somewhere else entirely.

There is not actually the sound of rain. If characters are near enough to a window, balcony, or even a hole in the ceiling, they will find that it is cloudless, beaming sunlight outside. The emptiness in the distance rolls on and on, completely absent any signs of life.

That being, of course, because the signs of life are all in here. Characters might wake up on any of the decks on the upper side of the ship - anywhere that isn't the cafeteria or lounge where previous arrivals spend most of their time is free game. This also means, of course, that they have the jungle of plants to contend with...

LIGHTS ON, SHOW START


Most areas in the ship are dark when characters arrive. That doesn't mean that they stay dark. Occasionally, lights overhead flicker on and off for a few minutes at a time.

The problem with this isn't the lights themselves (cool white and kind of industrial). It's the reaction that the addition of the extra light causes the plants in the dark areas of the ship that's cause for alarm. To describe the growth as explosive isn't an understatement - vines, saplings, and even thicker branches surge with growth, pushing outwards towards the distant sunlight and upwards towards the flickering bulbs.

The growth is sudden enough to take all but the most aware characters by surprise, and if they're in the wrong corner of the room, it's very easy to get tangled up, wedged in by a tree trunk, or otherwise trapped against some corner or wall. If you're lucky and skilled, you might be able to cut yourself out from there (or break down the wall you're shoved up against), but otherwise, there's only one solution left.

Yell like your life depends on it, and hope somebody out there can hear you. And that whoever hears is someone who is inclined to help, rather than leaving you there. Or worse.

Oh, and the lights flicker back off after a few minutes, of course. Hopefully you're not waiting for rescue in the dark (with the smell of mold and the general faint dampness of the forest) for too long.

TILT-A-WORLD


Occasionally, the whole ship tilts.

This is not simply the side to side motion of a ship on the water (or the equivalent motion brought on by the way this particular ship moves); it's an extremely forward or backward tilt that sends things sliding across the floor if they aren't secured by roots or something else. Unlike storm-tossed ships, the tilt is somewhat prolonged - rather than everything sliding back and forth a couple times a minute, the tilt lasts for five, ten, maybe as much as twenty minutes.

Although it's not enough to knock a well-balanced character off their feet, it's quite likely that new arrivals will not be particularly on-balance. And attempting to traverse the ship with the tilt is a tall order... especially when the ship's angle does unexpectedly change... to the exact opposite direction. All that goes up the mountain must go back down, and a glance out the windows reveals that that's exactly what's going on, as the ship progresses across a mountainous landscape without real regard for the concept of mountain passes.

And for characters who have managed to make their way to the "civilized" parts of the ship, namely the cafeteria and the lounge above it... None of the furniture in these areas is secured. The cafeteria carts under the direct control of the Ship don't seem as inclined to go anywhere, but the tables and chairs in the cafeteria and the couches and armchairs upstairs... Well, it's a good thing both spaces are surrounded by railings. Large chunks of tree trunk also still littler the lounge, sliding back and forth and occasionally rolling with great force across the floor.

Better hold on tight.

SOMETHING WHISTLING


While wandering around the ship's interior, characters might occasionally hear a person whistling.

The sound always seems to be coming from just around the corner, but it sounds alive in a way that other sounds don't. Maybe more alive, even, than the rustle of leaves, the occasional drip of water, and the sounds of things sliding back and forth across the grimy, leaf-covered floors. The whistler, whoever they are, doesn't actively respond if called out to - but the whistling does pause, as though indicating that the call was heard, before starting up again.

If characters choose to follow the whistling, they're inevitably led to the same place - somewhere overlooking the great gap down the middle of the ship, whether an internal suite's balcony, one of the bridges crossing between the two halves, or one of the hallways that runs alongside it. Once they're there, there's no whistler in sight; however, characters will be filled with the overwhelming urge to look over the edge of the railing and down into the lower parts of the ship.

Exactly what they experience after looking down varies. Some will hallucinate that they've fallen over the side, feeling their balance go haywire and seeing the floor rushing up to them right up until the moment of "impact," at which everything returns to normal. Some will feel a stranger's hands on their shoulders, threatening to push them over with a great shove that goes through them with incorporeal fingers. Some will just hear unidentifiable laughter right up close to their ears, and experience the distinct sensation that there's someone laughing at them, in a haha-made-you-look kind of way.

But whatever happens, when they look up, there's no one there - or at least not anyone that physically close to them. The one good thing about being drawn to the middle section of the ship by whatever prankster this is is that it makes it a lot easier to run into people if you're all drawn to the same, highly visible place.

And at least the other person is flesh and blood, right? Probably.
screwubbaboo: (fork yeah)

Boothill | Honk It's Star Rail

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-02 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Arrival

The feeling of blood on Boothill's hands is so familiar it's almost not worth marking - whether it's his own or someone else's, those these days he's more liable to leak lubricant - and the sound of rain is... nice. Soothing.

Of course he wakes up too fast to sunlight bright enough it leaves him blinking, looking around him, confusion setting in as he tries to figure out what the fuck he drank last night that ended up with him on some kinda... moving vessel that seemed to be travelling across - once he makes it to a railing to look out - an unfamiliar desert (and he knows deserts, been to a lot of 'em). The deck he's on, in contrast, seems to be covered in massive trees, reaching up toward the sky like they're in a stickup.

He's not in cuffs or rope so it's not some kind of kidnapping, and he doesn't see anyone else in sight. The height of the view from the railing means that this vehicle must be massive, big as a small space station or thereabouts. It seems unlikely he's the only unfortunate soul scooped up while possibly a little less than sober and dropped off wherever they are.

He keeps a hand on his gun because it never hurts to be careful and turns toward the trees, since there doesn't seem to be anywhere to go that ain't off the side of the deck or into the woods. He lifts his voice. "If anyone's around, sing out if'n you can hear me. I don't want any fudgin' surprises."

Tilt-a-World

Boothill's explorations have reached the cafeteria and he opens the door just in time for the ship to pitch forward, sending him skidding down the sudden slope with a holler. "Whoo! Now that's a forkin' ride!"

He catches himself with one arm on one of those strangely stable cafeteria carts, swinging up a leg to slam his spur into a large log tumbling down towards him from the lounge, sending it splintering apart just before it's about to bowl him over. He grins over at whoever's in the lounge with him, showing a set of sharp teeth. "Hot dog! This thing's buckin' harder than a fudgin' rodeo bronco!"
doomed_gambler: Aventurine's very shocked face, with much motion blur, as he trips over a cat and falls down. (WHAT?!)

Happy birth (tilt- in front of my SALAD???)

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-03 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
Aventurine’s been gathering up food and snacks for the day before searching for more newcomers when the boat…tips. Again.

“Great. Here we go…” he grumbles, scooping up his salad plate and holding it close as furniture goes sideways, logs rolling down the deck, followed by something very heavy and metal sounding what is THAT-

It’s a person. Hooting and hollering the whole way skidding down the deck. At least he’s having fun??

But then a log starts barreling toward the guy, and Aventurine’s eyes widen. “Hey, look out!” He shouts, going to reach forward for some emergency shields-

With a resounding CRACK, the tree log splits in half, sending wood chips flying everywhere. Including into Aventurine’s salad. He sighs, loathe to waste it. Maybe he can pick them out…impressive trick, nonetheless. What is this guy?

He chuckles at the man’s enthusiasm. “That it is. The ship likes to tip like this when it decides it’s time to climb a mountain or two,” he explains, propping up an elbow on the table. Doesn’t seem to be moving too much… “It’ll go the other way in a bit. Want some food in the meantime? We got a big selection,” he offers with a grin.
screwubbaboo: (totally hinged)

this is just a friendly hello honest

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-03 12:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Boothill does a check for other moving hazards but it looks like both logs and furniture have already slid past them and it'll probably be fine til, as his new friend says, it goes the other way. And then he gets a good look at said new friend, his one visible eye narrowing. Something is ringing real fuckin' familiar about that face...

As it clicks - it's the neck tattoo, that's what a wanted poster might call an 'identifying feature' - his lips curl into a wide grin, showing sharp teeth. "Well, fudge me runnin'. I didn't think you IPC sons of nice ladies went anywhere without your goons to cover your ashes. And here I was startin' to think it was gonna be a bad day."

Despite the movement of the ship, when he points his gun at Aventurine's forehead his arm stays rock-steady, his lower body moving to compensate instead. "Never thought I'd get to bag me a muddlefudgin' Stoneheart."
doomed_gambler: (Glasses 2)

As a guy who introduced himself with gun roulette once, fair

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-04 06:28 am (UTC)(link)
Aventurine snorts at the bizarre swears coming out of this guy. He shouldn’t offend him, but- seriously, sons of nice ladies? That’s a new one.

Then the guy pulls a gun on him. Despite himself, Aventurine’s eyes widen before he plasters on a charming smile, raising his hands placatingly.

“Woah there, ‘cowboy’. Let's not, ehem, 'jump the gun' here,” he chuckles, keeping his tone light and playful even as his heart thumps rapidly in his chest. This guy knows the IPC. He knows his face, called him a Stoneheart—the same source of power sitting shattered in his coat pocket. How can he spin this…he sighs, grin widening.

“Yeah, no employees with me; my last mission went a bit sideways, and I’m taking an unexpected vacation to…recuperate.” He might not even be employed anymore after all that. He doesn’t know. He does not want to unpack all that right now. Instead he raises his eyebrows. “And where would you turn me in anyway? If you shoot me, who will tell you about what’s going on here, hmmm?”
screwubbaboo: (fork yeah)

matching energy tbh

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-04 12:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Despite himself, Boothill has to admire Aventurine's composure. He didn't miss that widening of the eyes - oh, the Stoneheart's concerned, but he's playing it cool. Boothill doubts it's the first time he's had a gun in his face. Well, he might be dropping a few jokes but it won't make Boothill drop his guard. He's got the guy backed into a corner and that's where some people are the most dangerous. He doubts they call this fucker Aventurine of Stratagems for nothing.

He tilts his head a little, considering the comment about the mission going sideways. He's not fucking stupid, he can put a couple of facts together. Fact one: This place is worse than a shithole, it's a ruin. Not somewhere a top-notch IPC employee goes to get away from it all. Fact two: There really ain't any goons here, or they'd have come running when Boothill whipped out the gun. Fact three: The IPC doesn't appreciate failure. Boothill's grin widens a bit. "You musta really forked up, huh? What'd you do, screw up the paperwork for the next planet you were gonna fudge over? They get peaced off and send you out here to try to 'reclaim' this shirtheap?"
doomed_gambler: (Drink)

Truly. Time to answer questions without actually answering

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-04 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, the guy hasn't shot him yet. And he does have questions, so it's unlikely he'll put a bullet between his eyes before Aventurine answers. Probably. He'll up the bet, keep talking. Keep steady.

So Aventurine laughs lightly, telegraphing his movements as he slowly, casually, starts picking at his salad. "Something like that," he hums, never dropping his smile. He tosses out a stray wood chip or two. "Ever heard of Penacony? I was sent to...negotiate ownership of the place. Took some risks, made some progress, some exchanges, you know." He spears some lettuce and a tomato. His eyes flick up to the cowboy, his grin widening. "Then I died. Guess I was due for a change of scenery after that."
screwubbaboo: (Default)

I thought they decided against Aventurine's evasion mechanic and yet.......

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-04 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're pretty fudgin' tall for a dead man," Boothill observes. He can tell Aventurine is playing out the old 'keep talking and they won't shoot' trick, but it is actually true that he's not going to shoot him right now. Especially since he just mentioned Penacony. "Penacony, huh? You get invited to that Family shindig? I was on my way there myself. If I'da known people were gonna be dyin' I mighta hurried over a little faster."

Well, he was already heading there pretty fast, eager to take care of the imposter Galaxy Ranger. But it sounds like the party was a whole lot more interesting than he was expecting.
doomed_gambler: Aventurine smiles down at the camera, leaning a cheek on his hand. (Default)

Hilarious of Boothill to call 5 foot nothing Aven "tall"

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-05 08:05 am (UTC)(link)
That makes a laugh burst out of Aventurine, quick and sudden. He takes a bite of his salad to stop this. "Yeah well, I ended up here after it, so while it wasn't pleasant, you could say I got better?" In some ways, anyway. The lingering nightmares and headaches are unfortunate but he doesn't need to talk about that. And hey! He's alive and happy about it!

He does take interest in that next part. "Oho, you were invited too? Yeah, I got this nice music box message...the Family even negotiated with me personally when I was visiting. Didn't get to stay long enough to see the...full festival." He chuckles. "Put on my own big show before I had to make my grand exit. Might have put a bit of a snag in the festivities," he says, looking not at all apologetic.

He tilts his head, considering the cowboy pointing a gun at him. "Those invitations were sent to representatives for different factions, it seems. What organization are you from, I wonder...?" he hums, tilting his head, tapping the table with his free hand. "Ranger, perhaps? But there was already a representative for them..." And wouldn't that be a fun conflict?
screwubbaboo: (fork off)

dead people are usually more horizontal!

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-05 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"All things considered I guess this might be an improvement on kickin' the bucket." That laugh seems a bit hysterical to him, but he guesses for most people dying comes as an unpleasant surprise, the kind that might leave bad memories. Shame Aventurine's going to have to experience it again so soon.

"Sounds like your personal negotiations didn't go so hot. What'd you do, try a hostile takeover?" He says the corporate jargon with incredible disdain, then grumbles. "I was plannin' to be more of a party crasher, actually, since everyone thinks the Galaxy Rangers are dead or monkeys or some sugar. Had some business to take care of with -" He lets out a mechanical growl at the thought of the "Ranger". "With that particular son of a nice lady, yeah. She ain't no forkin' Ranger, she's a muddlefudgin' imposter and I don't take kindly to that. Everyone on Penacony's in danger as long as she's there."
doomed_gambler: Aventurine looking to the side, smiling while talking. (Chatting 1)

FAIR ENOUGH

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-06 07:23 am (UTC)(link)
"In some ways, yeah. The food is better here, for one," Aventurine chuckles, eating more salad. It helps keep his hands steady. He'd pointed a gun at himself several times, yes, but it is unnerving to not be able to be in control of when the trigger gets pulled. Can his shields stop a bullet...? Maybe before but in this state...it's perhaps more risky than he's willing to take.

He shrugs at the questions about negotiations. "Something like that. Family head had a point to prove, and I was an easy target for him I guess. Not like I'm not used to that; I made it work," he says, smirking. "Decided to make a point back. Caused some damage, no casualties on my way out; I mean, except for me I guess. Good turnout, to be honest." Sunday was so confident then that he didn't even consider Aventurine would break his own cornerstone to hide it. He's paying for it now, sure, but thinking of pulling that off still gave the gambler a rush. He could almost ignore the remnants of the Harmony nonsense in his head.

He's gotta admit, he is surprised at that last part. "Well then, I suppose I am lucky! Rangers are rare these days, that's for sure." He pauses to take out some more wood chips from his poor salad. Sheesh. This might be his last meal, this is just sad. "Yeah. Yeah, I met her; she really didn't seem like a Ranger at all. Ironic that a fake Galaxy Ranger kills me, and I might be killed by a real one now." Aventurine snorts at that, more than a little bitter. Just his luck. "I mean I planned for that first one, sure. She was more of a help than a harm. A powerful wildcard. But...yeah. That can't look good on you guys' reputation. Still, I wonder..." he adds, tilting his head curiously, staring down the barrel of the gun. "Do you think you would have stood a chance against an Emanator of Nihility?"

He probably shouldn't provoke this guy, but he really is curious about what he would have done.
screwubbaboo: (totally hinged)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-06 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
For some reason Aventurine talking so smugly about the damage he caused just pisses him off. He shoves the barrel of his gun in closer, pressing it up against his forehead, mouth twisting into a snarl. "And here I thought if the IPC didn't get what they wanted they just started firebombing." No casualties. Fuck that. Sure, he doesn't want innocents to die, but sometimes life just ain't fair and he's feeling that sting right now. "But I guess maybe people care about what happens to Penacony. Can't get away with annihilating a population just to scoop up a few resources with that many eyes on it, huh?" Yeah, yeah, he knows the IPC wants Penacony for other reasons than its natural resources (though it probably wants to mine that memoria too) but it's still true. A lot more people would notice what happened to Penacony than what happened at home.

"If she's helpin' you, all the more reason to rub her out." He rolls his eye at Aventurine's question about standing a chance against an Emanator of Nihility. "I got a few ideas. If she's been hangin' out in that dream then she's asleep in the real world, right? Seems forkin' easy to me. Then all I gotta handle is Reverie security." He's not obliged to play fair, after all.
doomed_gambler: (Serious 1)

[personal profile] doomed_gambler 2024-06-06 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
"I mean, I'd personally try to avoid such waste if I can help i-" his breath stutters and he goes stock still when the cold metal presses against his forehead. His fingers twitch, and there's the briefest flicker of amber around them, but he forces it down fast. That won't do any good here. Hold it together. Listen to what he's saying. Play what you can to survive. Breathe.

His grip tightens on the fork in his hand, to keep steady, but also a possible weapon if needed. A pitiful one, but it could work; if he's fast and aims for the eyes-

Inhale...exhale. Steady.

Bravado was obviously not helping, so he drops that. Maybe showing some weakness will help here. So he holds still, smile dropping, his tone sobering.

"It's a mess over in Penacony. I don't think it'll be as easy to kill her as you'd think." The invitations were from the elusive Watchmaker, and it was still hard to get in...still.

Deep breath.

"There are good people there. The Family is corrupt but I did what I could to make sure I was the one who took the brunt of the damage." And he hopes Topaz being involved will keep it that way in his stead. Jade he doesn't trust but Topaz...Topaz has a conscience and a heart still.

"I don't...agree with alot of what the IPC does. But I have to...I have to make it work." His voice shakes slightly. He has to be profitable, entertaining, or he'll be thrown away-he clears his throat, bright, lightless eyes flicking over to the man before him, trying to read him. Tells of upset, frustration...grief?

"Can't get away with annihilating a population just to scoop up a few resources with that many eyes on it, huh?"

Ah. That does ring a bell doesn't it? Alot of bells, unfortunately.

"You're...a survivor of one of Oswaldo's "grand plans", aren't you?" He asks, but more of a statement than a question. He holds very still, watching for a reaction. "Guy's a lunatic. After what he did to my planet..." His grip tightens. He doesn't know how to talk about that, about Sigonia. Not like this. Not when he, the last of the Avgin tribe, might be shot dead right here.

Instead he looks to the metal body, the cybernetic hand holding the gun. The metallic echo of the man's voice. He smiles then, small, letting fear and sympathy color it. "You...'died' too didn't you."
screwubbaboo: (ugh)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-07 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
Boothill knows, he knows that whatever comes out of Aventurine's mouth is likely to be pure, unmitigated bullshit, that's how these IPC execs work. They'll say whatever it takes to keep their brains from becoming a splattered mess on the ground. He'd like to think he's beyond falling for that kind of trick.

'I don't agree with a lot of what the IPC does' is one of those things he's heard a thousand times in a thousand ways from every miserable wretch who gets a chance to talk before he puts a bullet in them. They all want to disclaim responsibility, pass it off to some other poor fuckhead. Aventurine might be the first one he actually feels an urge to believe. It's not the shake in his voice, that's too easy. Maybe it's that look in his eye, like Boothill ain't the only that's got him at gunpoint.

Boothill would count himself as pretty familiar with the IPC's business practices. You gotta know your enemy or how else can you hit 'em where it hurts? He knows what they do to planets they contract with, forcing everyone into an indenture there's no chance of escape from. It's possible Aventurine fell into a contract like that somehow and is trying to make the best of it. Of course, tryin' to make the best of anything in that rat heap just means you become a bigger rat, so he's not sure that makes it better.

An inarticulate noise forces its way out of his throat at the mention of Oswaldo Schneider and he grits his teeth, his bull's eye pupil flaring bright. It's tempting to just pull the trigger and end this fucking conversation before he has to hear one word more word out of that mouth, but if Aventurine knows more about Oswaldo Schneider than he can't. "Best pick your words very carefully, Stoneheart."

His arm doesn't waver as Aventurine speaks - one of the countless advantage of cybernetics, no matter how he's feeling he always shoots straight. He has to admit his head's in a whirl. He's met a few other survivors of Schneider, but never like this. They're mostly like him, on the fringe of civilization, or trying to rebuild their lives. They're not in the belly of the beast, contributing to the system that ruined them. It's that anger that rises to the top first. "I don't need your fudgin pity, shirtbag. You lost your planet and you're still workin' with them? Ain't your ancestors turnin' over in their forkin' graves?"
Edited (more apostrophes needed) 2024-06-07 01:20 (UTC)

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sanktawithashotgun: (Hm?)

Arrival (he's a bit literal, sorry)

[personal profile] sanktawithashotgun 2024-06-07 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Executor had been making his way through the vastly overgrown halls, tearing vines asunder as he travels. Plant matter covers his face and his hair, but his battle gear remains largely unstained. It's of good make.

He finds his way to an upper deck of some sort. The sun is bright, and he has to squint for his vision to adjust. This does give a better vantage point if any dangers come from outside the landship-

There's someone else up here. A civilian? A guard? Executor turns, stepping through and around trees to follow the sound, only to eventually find...

...his assessment may be a bit off. The person seems to be living, but also of the qualities of a robot, or a droid like what the Pope gave him. But their voice is loud and lifelike, with only a hint of metallic echo.

He also notes the firearm. Executor approaches, making sure his steps can be heard to not startle this person.

"I can hear you. I have been informed I have no talent for singing, however. I can still make the attempt if you wish."
screwubbaboo: (tip of the hat)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-07 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
Boothill turns towards the sound of footsteps made by someone clearly not trying to hide their approach, which he appreciates. His ears are sharp enough he likely would have caught them anyway, but this means they're starting things off nice and friendly. "Hey, singin' ain't about talent, it's about soul. But no need, pal, I just don't like gettin' startled. Makes my trigger finger a bit twitchy is all."

He lifts his hand from his gun to the brim of his hat, tipping it slightly as he gets a good look at his new friend. The halo obviously makes him think Halovian, but he can't see any additional feathers. Maybe he crashed somewhere in the Asdana system - that might make sense, he had been almost all the way to Penacony. "You with the Family?"
sanktawithashotgun: (Cheeb 2)

[personal profile] sanktawithashotgun 2024-06-08 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
Executor nods slowly at the elaboration on 'singing'. "Soul is...a difficult factor to quantify, and I have been told my musical ability lacks "heart", which I will assume is related." And an attempt would likely make the man more 'twitchy' as it were. He is glad that music is not required for this particular request.

He recognizes a greeting when he sees one, and Executor makes a small bow in return. "I do not understand what you...mean by "The Family"." He likely does not mean his biological family. They bear no relevance here. Did he mean... "I have no connection to the crime families of Siracusa. I am Executor Federico Giallo of the Laterano Notarial Hall. I am currently contracted with Rhodes Island but..." he pauses for a moment. "This...while a similar landship, is not Rhodes Island. It is in a significant state of disrepair. I have been investigating the matter, helping occupants where I can. Have you arrived recently?"
screwubbaboo: (fork yeah)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-08 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
"More or less, yeah. We can skip it." Well, that pretty much answers the question about whether or not he's Family. Maybe they ain't all interastral superstar Robin but all of them sing.

"Executor Federico... fuck, that's a long name. You got anything else I can call you?" Sorry but he is not saying that every time he wants to talk to his new buddy. "I'm Boothill, of the Galaxy Rangers. He pauses. "Hold on a motherfuckin' second, did I just say fuck?" Or at least he said something his brain is translating as fuck, because now that he thinks about it he has no idea what language they're talkin' in and why he can speak it. But whatever language it is, it's unaffected by his censored synesthesia beacon and holy fuck it feels good. "Fuck. Shit. Ass. Titty. Oh, fuck yeah. That's the good shit."
Edited (i accidentally a word) 2024-06-08 04:20 (UTC)
sanktawithashotgun: (Curious)

I took the chance to make Fedi say f*ck-

[personal profile] sanktawithashotgun 2024-06-09 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
Executor pauses for a moment. This is not his station at Rhodes Island. Would it be proper to go by his Operator name here? ...Perhaps he should give Mr. Boothill the choice? "My title 'Executor' will suffice. Since this is...not the workplace, you may also call me by my given name, Federico. If those options are still too long, you may shorten it to your convenience, if you so wish." With that out of the way, he gives a nod. "It is good to meet you, Mr. Boothill of the Galaxy Ranger-"

His eyes widen ever so slightly at all the expletives spilling from the man's mouth. He's suddenly reminded of Flamebringer, on days when his Oripathy flares up painfully. "Repeated uses of expletives such as 'fuck' tend to indicate stress or injury. Mr. Boothill, are you hurt?" But the Galaxy Ranger is smiling, jagged teeth bared...and that does not...Executor blinks, hands raised slightly as if to...aid? Aid what? "I do not understand the sudden expletive usage."

screwubbaboo: (hidden smile)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-09 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
Boothill has to fucking cackle at the question of whether he's hurt or not. He's feeling great. It's like having an irritating sliver removed - he made the best of the beacon situation, but man alive did it get on his nerves sometimes. "Nah, Rico, I'm doin' just fuckin' fine. Those IPC shitbags fucked with my synaesthesia beacon a while ago so whenever I tried to say a naughty word it turned it into somethin' 'clean', so if I said fuck it'd say fork or fudge or what the fuck ever, if I said shit it'd be shirt or sugar. I have to tell you, it made me sound like a fuckin' idiot. Now for some reason we're talkin' in a different language and it ain't workin' and I can say whatever the hell I want."

Some might suggest that Boothill could have just stopped swearing, but that would be too much like knuckling under to the IPC, something you'd never catch him doing. Besides, sounding like an idiot was useful for making people think he was an idiot, and being underestimated could come in very handy.
sanktawithashotgun: (Curious)

[personal profile] sanktawithashotgun 2024-06-12 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Boothill only laughs harder, and any alarm Executor feels settles and fades. "So you are...amused and pleased you can express yourself properly now. I see." The change in the man's hardware was just unexpected. Executor does not quite understand, but his shard-like wings give a tiny flap in response. Not at all close to laughter or a smile, but it works for him to telegraph the satisfaction at the situation, and the name Boothill chose for him. It is not official in any sense and yet he finds himself pleased, regardless, since the situation is not official in any sense.

He does blink, realizing the language change. "I do know many languages for work, but I realize I do not recognize this current language, or where I learned it from." He tilts his head slightly, his halo humming as if reaching out for some sort of presence like The Law that might have gifted the information when he wasn't focusing on it. All he can read are faint whispers from the ship itself. Strange. "Do you think it is something automatically learned upon arrival? It is...good it is of extra benefit to you, Boothill." He drops the "Mr." to match the ranger's shorter name for him. If Boothill prefers brevity in address, he will reciprocate.
beautyyearningknight: (shock)

The Normal boat is alive, with the Sooooouuuuund of Muuuuusiiiiiiic ~aaaah aah ah aaaaaaah~

[personal profile] beautyyearningknight 2024-06-08 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
Argenti found himself on the higher decks, sunshine filtering through the windows. He paused to soak it in. It was nice after having spent so long in the belly of the vessel, not that he minded the dark, but the warmth of the rays of sunlight helped distract him from his troubled mind, and he couldn't help but smile at their soft touch on his skin.

A voice echoes down the hall, breaking him from his reverie. He stares down the hallway in wonder, not quite able to place its location.

And the voice itself.... a whisper of familiarity grasps at his mind.

His heart rises, was this a friend he knew? That would be a delightful encounter indeed.

The voice is course and asks him to... sing? As a way to detect his location and keep from being startled?

Well that certainly worked. If a somewhat unorthodox request. It was one he could surely manage.

He clears his throat, swallowing the cough that immediately tries to escape his lungs with a frown-

What could he sing? Hm. What did he know that he could hopefully perform adequately?

"If you feel lost, and on your own. And far from homeeee." A pause for a breathe.

"You're never alone, you know. Just think of your friends, the ones who care. They all will be waiting there, with love to share, and your heart will lead you hoommeee."

He barely made it through the last word before hacking a cough which he smothered with his hand. It took a few seconds before he could control his coughing and start breathing again, and his throat ached from his efforts, still displeased with him from earlier. He frowned in disappointed frustration. Ah, well, hopefully that was adequate enough.

screwubbaboo: (hey babe)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-08 03:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Boothill is surprised to hear actual singing from somewhere down the hallway he just found. The voice has a familiar ring to it, which just increases the worry when it suddenly breaks off into coughing. Not wanting whoever it is to strain themselves further, he calls out, "All right, I gotcha - I'm comin' to you. Just hold tight for a forkin' second."

It doesn't take long to locate the room he heard the voice from and he pushes the door all the way open to see - "Holy wubbaboo, Argenti? What the fudge are you doin' here, brother?!" He strides in, about to clap him on the shoulder before he remembers how much he was coughing. "You doin' all right there? Sounded like you got one heck of a frog in your throat."
beautyyearningknight: (smile)

[personal profile] beautyyearningknight 2024-06-10 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Argenti hears the voice respond again while he's still coughing, he's able to make it out a little clearer even over his own struggles. His heart thrums in excitement, he was even more sure he recognized that voice-

Boothill rounds the corner and he breaks out in a grin ear to ear. "Galaxy Ranger Boothill! My dear friend!" He takes the few remaining steps to meet Boothill as he walks over to him, noticing the aborted motion for the shoulder clap. He was sad not to receive the gesture of affection, but unfortunately he could agree that it was probably for the best, not knowing exactly how his body would react to any kind of jostling at the moment. "For once that is a question I cannot give you the answer too," He says with a bit of a mystified laugh, "I regrettably do not remember how, or why, I arrived at this place."

Argenti's smile wavers a bit when Boothill asks after his health, he raises a hand to wave off the question, "Pay it no mind, its nothing to be worried about."

((Argenti is completely missing his chest-plate, should you wish to have Boothill notice or mention that.))

"How are you doing yourself?" he asks, eager to move off the topic of his own health, "Its been an age since we've encountered each other. As well this vessel is... perilous at times." He chuckles, "Although I trust your mettle, I merely ask out of courtesy."

screwubbaboo: (ugh)

[personal profile] screwubbaboo 2024-06-11 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Don't worry about it, I'm fine - I'm the one made of forkin' metal, remember? You're just wearin' it. Well, most of the time. What happened to the breastplate? You get tired of people usin' you for a lookin' glass?" He does a closer scan over Argenti, checking for any other damage. He knows his friend is one of those people who sometimes needs to get picked up and hauled off to the nearest med station for his own good. "You encounter some of this perilous sugar you're talkin' about 'round here?"

Boothill is pretty keen, he's good at noticing when something's not quite right and he's pretty sure Argenti took a few hits that he doesn't want to acknowledge somewhere.
beautyyearningknight: (troubled)

[personal profile] beautyyearningknight 2024-06-14 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm relieved to hear that," he says with a smile.

Did people actually use his breastplate to do that...? Ah, nevermind, Boothill often used a lot of turns of phrase, many of which he did not parse quite as they were intended, thankfully the Galaxy Ranger was patient with his fumbles. That aside he shook his head, schooling his expression to remain calm despite the bitter sting still of lacking part of his full set of armor, "No, no, nothing of that sort. It simply became... damaged. I unfortunately had to put it to the side for now."

He avoids looking Boothill in his all too keen eye, as he notices the Ranger's eye narrowing at him minutely, "In a manner of speaking yes." he didn't have to mention he'd gotten injured in the process, that matter wasn't important, "There are vines growing profusely on many decks of this ship. They grow at a, frankly marvelous, speed when exposed to light. Oh! And the ship itself sometimes tilts perilously in any direction as it travels the terrain of this world. Keeping mind of your surroundings doesn't hurt in case of such situations."