Itching to try out writing a character? Then rev up your engines, grab your accounts, and slam your way into this meme! Here is a venue for you to try out whatever character there might be tickling your fancy, from fandom to OC, for as few as one and as many as MANY. Seriously, there's no limit.
How do you partake in this fantastic congregation of character testing? Why, by following these simple steps:
→ Comment with the journal of a character you want to test; put their name and canon in the subject line for added sparkles. → Tag around with everyone! → Profit like you live on a the back of a turtle! → Maybe even RESERVE so you CAN live on the back of a turtle!
But wait, there's more! For the low, low price of $9,999.99, you can even use one of our handy prompts when you tag someone. You could even pick one with a Random Number Generator to help decide which prompt to go with!
Haggling Over Something in the Marketplace! Maybe someone else saw the exact same shiny thing you did at the exact same moment! However shall this be resolved? Remember: blood is extremely hard to scrub off of turtle shell!
Dramatic Chase Sequence! You're running away from something! It could be anything, from a rampaging kirin to a gaggle of overly enthusiastic children! One way or another, you can't stop, and much like a katamari ball, you feel obligated to grab everyone in your path along the way to keep them out of danger! Or perhaps you're more the sort to try and knock them into it as a distraction...?
Where There's A Will, There's A...? The Life and Dreaming Planes have been merged, and sometimes what start out as wishful thinking becomes lured into reality. That slick new motorcycle or pile of kingly treasure you were just daydreaming about? Surprise! Though it may only stay for a short while before it disappears again, so make it count. Hopefully you're not the type to daydream about terrible things befalling people you don't like...
SECRET UNDERCOVER MODE ACTIVATE! The three major kedan families all have their own agendas, and you've chosen to entangle yourselves with one (or more!) of them. Are you hoping to shift the balance of power? Gain some favours? Perhaps you're on a mission to bring a criminal to justice, or maybe you just want to get the cream of the crop from the black market.
WILDCARD! Go nuts. Suddenly your character is fighting dragons! Good God, they've found the Millennium Falcon drifting in the ocean! Do you really feel the need to polish every paving stone in the Earth Sector? Please note, Wildcard options can also be what you can choose to do if you aren't yet comfortable in the Tu Shanshu setting, and would prefer a more 'dear-mun'-esque experience. Please specify in your post!
[The buildings and street fade up from white blankness like a staticky connection--at first in black and white, then in colour, then with sound. It's not the place he meant to be. Nowhere near. Wait, what is this? Is this real or some trick of the sorceress?
[No, she's dead, they beat her.]
Sefie!
[Irvine's heart pounds as he scans the area, walking long-legged down the street with his coat flapping behind him and his hat shading his face. Most of the people on the street are humanoid, but some of them have ... things, scales and wings and horns. Monsters? Some new ... junction? Is this the sorceress's endgame, in case she lost, just shoving them into some space filled with monsters crossed with people, as if that would stop them from fighting back?
[One of them comes at him and Irvine's shotgun jerks up, and they back away instead. Yeah, you stay back. He'll damn well shoot if you get too close, mutant freakazoid.]
Quisty! Zell! Squall--Rinoa?
[The crowd's faces blend together as he walks, calling out every now and then, jerking away from anyone who gets too close. His wrist is practically spring-loaded with the way his shotgun keeps jerking up defensively. His knees are shaking. Damn it. How long has he been walking? He can't tell. He managed to heal himself, but he's been on a hair-trigger for days. They all have.
[Hours. It could have been hours, and he hasn't even found the other end of this place. And none of the others have answered.]
[So, an armed young man looking pale and twitchy and calling out names that don't answer. Newcomer is the obvious conclusion. And, predictably, there's no one else even approaching useful in the immediate vicinity.]
[Which means that if she doesn't want someone getting shot in the streets and an inevitable diplomatic incident that someone will have to smooth over, China should likely do something helpful. Ordinarily, that would constitute a magical shove, but she's also on a crowded street and has a fondness for not getting swarmed.]
[Instead she moves into his path, a few feet ahead so he has time to see her coming, and smiles at him.]
There are easier ways than yelling to find someone.
[The voice makes Irvine spin, his shotgun already half raised, but then he stops when his gaze rests on the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. And he's seen a few. She's gorgeous, and if he were being polite he would take off his hat, give her a bow, hell, lower his gun--
[No. His mental defences slam up and so does the shotgun to his shoulder, barrels loaded. She looks just like Matron.
[Like the sorceress. The only reason he doesn't fire is because she doesn't have the tattoos and ... other stuff, the remnants of previous junctions she's kept to boost her power. And she approached him, on purpose, got in his way. She wouldn't do that if she could just kill him from the crowd. But he snarls:]
[She can see, very distinctly, the part where the newcomer decides she's a threat, and really, that's just rude. She hasn't said ten words to him and he certainly hasn't been here long enough to learn her reputation.]
[China eyes him carefully. She doesn't care to bet on her odds of surviving a shotgun blast unprotected at this range, nor on snapping her shield up in time should he happen to fire. He's just upgraded himself to something that needs neutralizing. But she raises her brows anyway, keeps her tone artificially light.]
There are more polite ways to refuse assistance, my dear.
[She shifts her weight back, poised to move if necessary. Laces her fingers together, and watches.]
[Yeah, right. Just her lifting her hands makes him tense, even though she doesn't follow up with a spell. Irvine keeps the shotgun levelled and takes a sidling step back. No backup. None of the others are here. How can he take on the sorceress alone? If she is? Maybe she is. Maybe he's in a time before the junctioning turns her into a mutant freak. Long before.
[Damn. That makes way too much sense.]
I'm not usually the type to turn down a pretty lady, but I don't need the help you're offering.
[Another careful step back, trying to keep his awareness on everyone around them too, trying not to stumble or run into an ambush.]
That would be a little more convincing if you'd heard what I was offering.
[Which is rapidly approaching nothing at this point. China assesses. Interesting accent, neither really French nor Italian. Possible he's done a lot of traveling between the two; possible he's from another world entirely. The way he's reacting suggests he knows her, but that's off. He's a bit too wary, she thinks, for someone who knows her only by reputation, and what should be an innocuous gesture to interlace her fingers earns a tense reaction like he expects the weaponized energy that can follow.]
[She's missing something vital, and she doesn't like it. So she pushes, and keeps her hands right where they are.]
Tell me, what is it that's worse than wandering blindly through a strange city and world?
[Duh. Irvine takes another step back. She isn't following. That's probably because she has someone behind him, someone he can't see, and the thought makes him break out in sweat. His back prickles wildly.
[He's not used to being this close to a target and not having one of the others nearby to back him up. He can't help it--his gaze darts from one side to the other to check his surroundings, taking his attention away from the sorceress for some precious seconds.]
[Her eyes narrow. She's never met him before. Let alone sent him to another world. Therefore, either her future self has been up to something which she'd really love to know about, or there's a serious case of mistaken identity. The former is an annoyance; the latter, practically an insult.]
[Either way, he's increasingly unstable, still has a shotgun pointed at her, and killing him outright would probably be frowned upon by enough people to make it not worthwhile. When he looks away from her China moves.]
[She lunges. Can't reach the tattoos on her legs right now, so normal speed will have to do. She comes in low, brushing the marks on her knuckles into red-glowing life as she does. Her goal's to shove the barrel of the gun up with one hand, follow up with the other with a brute-force punch to the gut that ought at least loosen his grip.]
[Irvine realises what he's done a little too late, his gaze snapping back to the sorceress--but he's surprised when she lunges at him instead of using magic. That's what he thinks at first, anyway, as he jerks back--then he catches sight of the tattoos on her knuckles.]
Crap--!
[He uses the momentum of her shove to toss Exeter, spinning end-over-end, into the air--don't ever try that at home, kids--while he shoves his other hand forward at his waist, gathering with blue and green light. He only gets the Protect spell half up before her fist collides with it and makes it shatter into shards of blue light, but hey, it works. Sends him stumbling back with the blunt force, his wrist and forearm twinging hard, but he always knows where his gun is, always, and Exeter falls into his good hand right on the trajectory he sent it. He spins it to adjust his grip and translates that smoothly to point and fire at the sorceress--hoping he has the chance. She's fast.]
[Irvine isn't the only one more than a little disorientated. For Zell, things had just been settling down in the aftermath of all that had happened and his initial thought is that this is the craziest food hangover ever.
Except that he's pretty sure food hangovers shouldn't have any sort of bearing on the fact that he can feel something isn't quite right here. That he's missing something he's too accustomed to being aware of and with a clear gap between being at the party and waking up in an unfamiliar street.
He's pretty sure he can't blame this one on the GFs, especially when he can't tap into them right now. Between that and the solid band peeking above his gloves, he doesn't dare think too hard on what this could mean.
He knows he shouldn't freak out. There's part of him that wants to anyway.
It's strange that he's not the one making a scene for once, but this time he's glad of it; there's no mistaking the voice he hears calling for him and while he can't say this is an ideal outcome it's still better than being here alone. And so he steps up, hands raised because getting shot really isn't on his list of things to do today.]
Well, looks like I get to save my voice for a change. You figured out where the hell we are yet?
[By the time Zell's voice sounds Irvine is so close to the edge that he still whirls with Exeter raised. He checks himself just as fast, lowering the gun and trying to pretend his hands aren't shaking, and also not trying to dim the relieved smile that blooms across his face.]
Man, and I was starting to think I was the only one who got out of that place.
[If they are not, in fact, the only ones stuck in that place. Just because they're not in that horrible white-space anymore doesn't mean they're out. Irvine's smile fades.]
No. It looks too retrograde to be anytime in the future, so we might be even further back in the past. Like, back in Centra in the past. Have you found a portal? If the compression is still untangling we might be able to jump back home.
[For all he'd been there and lived through the very thing Irvine is talking about, there's no mistaking the clear confusion in Zell's expression, as though Irvine were speaking an entirely different language. He runs a hand through his hair with a nervous laugh, half an eye still on that gun just in case.]
Didn't we fix that already? I mean...I just saw you, man. We're done with that. We're heroes, man, all of us.
[Which...doesn't explain why they're here and now Irvine's got him wondering.]
Unless...nah. It was definitely you guys. I definitely wasn't making you up so if it wasn't real, it wasn't real for any of us.
[He's trying to sound confident. His tone suggests the person he's trying to convince most right now is himself.]
[Yeah that ... makes no sense whatsoever. Sort-of. Maybe? Even taking into account the time compression, it doesn't make sense ... right?
[Irvine's exhausted, but now he's looking he sees how put-together Zell is. That's Garden's uniform. Zell wasn't wearing Garden's uniform in the time compression. ... Was he? No, he couldn't have been, unless it all got mixed in when they got caught in it, or something. Maybe time compressed Zell's uniform. It's the little details, and stuff.
[But ... heroes. Wouldn't that be nice. Irvine would like to imagine that, but right now, footsore and exhausted, so sure he'd seen the sorceress go down but now stuck sometime he doesn't recognise ... it's a little beyond him. And his head hurts. He rubs his temple and then shrugs, spreads his hand in the air.]
I don't know what you're talking about.
[Damn it. He's crashing. His hand's still shaking and now his knees are too, and he sounds more exhausted than he ever meant to sound around Zell. The guy always makes Irvine want to rile him by being more put-together, and he just doesn't have the energy for that.]
I walked here from the time compression, right after ... that stuff. But I mean ... it's time compression. Pulls in from all whens, you know? Maybe it's that.
[But that still doesn't tell them where they are, whether it's back then or in a sorceress-endangered future, or why Zell's potential future memories took precedence over the time-protected ones.]
But I'm telling you, we already fixed that. Or found our way out, at least, which is probably as close as we're ever going to get.
[Perhaps fortunately for Irvine, riling Zell tends to take a lot less effort than appearing more put together than he is would be. Especially when there's already plenty chipping away at his rather limited patience and the inevitable whirlwind is yet to be unleashed. It's frustration, this time, confusion as to why nothing makes sense and why Irvine remembers less than he does and irritation that wherever they are, whatever's happened, someone or something has made damn sure that finding a familiar face isn't the easy relief it should be.
His jaw clenches, fists curling inwards as he tries to make sense of this. There's one potential thing that would make this make sense except there's too much he doesn't know and he's not confident that the answers he'd get would help there at all.
It's worth a try. But he's already sure this won't be enough to explain it.]
How long have you been here? I know I woke up about half an hour ago so...
[So regardless, it's probably not long enough for this to be the answer even assuming Irvine hadn't got here first, which throws that theory completely out.]
[Irvine looks around, feeling lost. Probably looking it, too, scruffy and ragged and just like he walked out of a battle, because he had. GFs junctioned and everything.]
A few hours, maybe?
[His sense of time is warped. He doesn't even know how long he was walking through that white-space before this place loomed up at him. But, hell, if Zell says he just saw them all ... all of them ... at least that means Irvine gets out. It means that everyone gets out.]
But you saw us all, right? Sefie, Quisty, Rinoa? Squall?
[Let's be real, Squall's got no confidence in his ability to not be alone. If any one of them was gonna forget where they were going, it'd be him. The dumbass. How d'you forget where you're going when you've got a pretty girl like Rinoa to aim for?]
[And as suspected, there goes that theory. Whatever's going on here, there's clearly time fuckery of some sort going on and Zell doesn't appreciate it in the least.
He catches the inferences in Squall being listed last. It's something he'd agree with, were he not more keenly aware of what extended GF junctioning had done to them all and how much longer than any of them Squall had been training.
Either way, it doesn't matter. He wasn't lost, and that's all that matters to Zell.]
'Course. You think I'd say all of us and not include everyone in that?
[He'd spare more time to be indignant over that, except that his gaze then falls to his wrist again and other questions push themselves forward.]
They deck you out with one of these, too? Not sure what the deal with it is but I'm sure it's messin' with me.
[And much as he doesn't think either answer is good news, if it turns out it's just him then he is not going to be pleased.]
[All of them. All. Okay. Great. Perfect. Irvine gets out, then. He just ... needs to hold tight.]
What?
[For a moment Irvine stares blankly, but then he registers where Zell's glance goes and follows it to his own wrists. Nothing there, so he looks himself over, digging in his pockets and finally picking at his necklace. There's a brass-and-crystal addition to the disc section, and he frowns down at it.]
[They could only be the names of other people, though they sound more like nonsense words strung together.
Daud watches the newcomer with the gun for a few blocks, following along hidden in the shadows above. Then he drops down onto the street and walks into view, deliberately making himself obvious to avoid a startled gunshot. He walks slowly. Non-threateningly. The only thing he doesn't do is put his hands in the air; he's never done that, and never will.]
She's gone.
[There's only one reason a man under strain would repeat the same name more than once. Odds are, she's a woman.]
[The gunshot, he avoids. Having the gun levelled at him, he doesn't. His hands aren't exactly in full view, but he's not lunging or shouting, so after a second Irvine lowers Exeter's barrels. Slowly.]
That's okay. I'm not totally convinced the city is real.
[Daud believed the same thing for a while. His more vivid dreams weren't actually dreams at all, but short journeys into the Void to speak with the Outsider. That was what convinced him in the end - none of his normal dreams remained so vivid for so long. His own mind didn't work against him like this.]
[He's guessing, but it's a solid guess to make. Whether dreams or 'constructs', this man doesn't believe he's real. And if there's one thing Daud knows, it's that he's real.
[... What. Irvine steps back, stops, stares. Exeter's still in his hand, but loose, and for the first time Irvine wonders just how far-reaching the compression actually was.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ironwood) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_ooc2015-07-19 06:51 pm
Irvine Kinneas; Final Fantasy 8;
[The buildings and street fade up from white blankness like a staticky connection--at first in black and white, then in colour, then with sound. It's not the place he meant to be. Nowhere near. Wait, what is this? Is this real or some trick of the sorceress?
[No, she's dead, they beat her.]
Sefie!
[Irvine's heart pounds as he scans the area, walking long-legged down the street with his coat flapping behind him and his hat shading his face. Most of the people on the street are humanoid, but some of them have ... things, scales and wings and horns. Monsters? Some new ... junction? Is this the sorceress's endgame, in case she lost, just shoving them into some space filled with monsters crossed with people, as if that would stop them from fighting back?
[One of them comes at him and Irvine's shotgun jerks up, and they back away instead. Yeah, you stay back. He'll damn well shoot if you get too close, mutant freakazoid.]
Quisty! Zell! Squall--Rinoa?
[The crowd's faces blend together as he walks, calling out every now and then, jerking away from anyone who gets too close. His wrist is practically spring-loaded with the way his shotgun keeps jerking up defensively. His knees are shaking. Damn it. How long has he been walking? He can't tell. He managed to heal himself, but he's been on a hair-trigger for days. They all have.
[Hours. It could have been hours, and he hasn't even found the other end of this place. And none of the others have answered.]
SEFIE!
no subject
[Which means that if she doesn't want someone getting shot in the streets and an inevitable diplomatic incident that someone will have to smooth over, China should likely do something helpful. Ordinarily, that would constitute a magical shove, but she's also on a crowded street and has a fondness for not getting swarmed.]
[Instead she moves into his path, a few feet ahead so he has time to see her coming, and smiles at him.]
There are easier ways than yelling to find someone.
no subject
[No. His mental defences slam up and so does the shotgun to his shoulder, barrels loaded. She looks just like Matron.
[Like the sorceress. The only reason he doesn't fire is because she doesn't have the tattoos and ... other stuff, the remnants of previous junctions she's kept to boost her power. And she approached him, on purpose, got in his way. She wouldn't do that if she could just kill him from the crowd. But he snarls:]
Back off.
no subject
[China eyes him carefully. She doesn't care to bet on her odds of surviving a shotgun blast unprotected at this range, nor on snapping her shield up in time should he happen to fire. He's just upgraded himself to something that needs neutralizing. But she raises her brows anyway, keeps her tone artificially light.]
There are more polite ways to refuse assistance, my dear.
[She shifts her weight back, poised to move if necessary. Laces her fingers together, and watches.]
no subject
[Yeah, right. Just her lifting her hands makes him tense, even though she doesn't follow up with a spell. Irvine keeps the shotgun levelled and takes a sidling step back. No backup. None of the others are here. How can he take on the sorceress alone? If she is? Maybe she is. Maybe he's in a time before the junctioning turns her into a mutant freak. Long before.
[Damn. That makes way too much sense.]
I'm not usually the type to turn down a pretty lady, but I don't need the help you're offering.
[Another careful step back, trying to keep his awareness on everyone around them too, trying not to stumble or run into an ambush.]
no subject
[Which is rapidly approaching nothing at this point. China assesses. Interesting accent, neither really French nor Italian. Possible he's done a lot of traveling between the two; possible he's from another world entirely. The way he's reacting suggests he knows her, but that's off. He's a bit too wary, she thinks, for someone who knows her only by reputation, and what should be an innocuous gesture to interlace her fingers earns a tense reaction like he expects the weaponized energy that can follow.]
[She's missing something vital, and she doesn't like it. So she pushes, and keeps her hands right where they are.]
Tell me, what is it that's worse than wandering blindly through a strange city and world?
no subject
[Duh. Irvine takes another step back. She isn't following. That's probably because she has someone behind him, someone he can't see, and the thought makes him break out in sweat. His back prickles wildly.
[He's not used to being this close to a target and not having one of the others nearby to back him up. He can't help it--his gaze darts from one side to the other to check his surroundings, taking his attention away from the sorceress for some precious seconds.]
no subject
[Either way, he's increasingly unstable, still has a shotgun pointed at her, and killing him outright would probably be frowned upon by enough people to make it not worthwhile. When he looks away from her China moves.]
[She lunges. Can't reach the tattoos on her legs right now, so normal speed will have to do. She comes in low, brushing the marks on her knuckles into red-glowing life as she does. Her goal's to shove the barrel of the gun up with one hand, follow up with the other with a brute-force punch to the gut that ought at least loosen his grip.]
no subject
Crap--!
[He uses the momentum of her shove to toss Exeter, spinning end-over-end, into the air--don't ever try that at home, kids--while he shoves his other hand forward at his waist, gathering with blue and green light. He only gets the Protect spell half up before her fist collides with it and makes it shatter into shards of blue light, but hey, it works. Sends him stumbling back with the blunt force, his wrist and forearm twinging hard, but he always knows where his gun is, always, and Exeter falls into his good hand right on the trajectory he sent it. He spins it to adjust his grip and translates that smoothly to point and fire at the sorceress--hoping he has the chance. She's fast.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Except that he's pretty sure food hangovers shouldn't have any sort of bearing on the fact that he can feel something isn't quite right here. That he's missing something he's too accustomed to being aware of and with a clear gap between being at the party and waking up in an unfamiliar street.
He's pretty sure he can't blame this one on the GFs, especially when he can't tap into them right now. Between that and the solid band peeking above his gloves, he doesn't dare think too hard on what this could mean.
He knows he shouldn't freak out. There's part of him that wants to anyway.
It's strange that he's not the one making a scene for once, but this time he's glad of it; there's no mistaking the voice he hears calling for him and while he can't say this is an ideal outcome it's still better than being here alone. And so he steps up, hands raised because getting shot really isn't on his list of things to do today.]
Well, looks like I get to save my voice for a change. You figured out where the hell we are yet?
[Because if not, that's next on Zell's agenda.]
no subject
Man, and I was starting to think I was the only one who got out of that place.
[If they are not, in fact, the only ones stuck in that place. Just because they're not in that horrible white-space anymore doesn't mean they're out. Irvine's smile fades.]
No. It looks too retrograde to be anytime in the future, so we might be even further back in the past. Like, back in Centra in the past. Have you found a portal? If the compression is still untangling we might be able to jump back home.
no subject
Didn't we fix that already? I mean...I just saw you, man. We're done with that. We're heroes, man, all of us.
[Which...doesn't explain why they're here and now Irvine's got him wondering.]
Unless...nah. It was definitely you guys. I definitely wasn't making you up so if it wasn't real, it wasn't real for any of us.
[He's trying to sound confident. His tone suggests the person he's trying to convince most right now is himself.]
no subject
[Irvine's exhausted, but now he's looking he sees how put-together Zell is. That's Garden's uniform. Zell wasn't wearing Garden's uniform in the time compression. ... Was he? No, he couldn't have been, unless it all got mixed in when they got caught in it, or something. Maybe time compressed Zell's uniform. It's the little details, and stuff.
[But ... heroes. Wouldn't that be nice. Irvine would like to imagine that, but right now, footsore and exhausted, so sure he'd seen the sorceress go down but now stuck sometime he doesn't recognise ... it's a little beyond him. And his head hurts. He rubs his temple and then shrugs, spreads his hand in the air.]
I don't know what you're talking about.
[Damn it. He's crashing. His hand's still shaking and now his knees are too, and he sounds more exhausted than he ever meant to sound around Zell. The guy always makes Irvine want to rile him by being more put-together, and he just doesn't have the energy for that.]
I walked here from the time compression, right after ... that stuff. But I mean ... it's time compression. Pulls in from all whens, you know? Maybe it's that.
[But that still doesn't tell them where they are, whether it's back then or in a sorceress-endangered future, or why Zell's potential future memories took precedence over the time-protected ones.]
no subject
[Perhaps fortunately for Irvine, riling Zell tends to take a lot less effort than appearing more put together than he is would be. Especially when there's already plenty chipping away at his rather limited patience and the inevitable whirlwind is yet to be unleashed. It's frustration, this time, confusion as to why nothing makes sense and why Irvine remembers less than he does and irritation that wherever they are, whatever's happened, someone or something has made damn sure that finding a familiar face isn't the easy relief it should be.
His jaw clenches, fists curling inwards as he tries to make sense of this. There's one potential thing that would make this make sense except there's too much he doesn't know and he's not confident that the answers he'd get would help there at all.
It's worth a try. But he's already sure this won't be enough to explain it.]
How long have you been here? I know I woke up about half an hour ago so...
[So regardless, it's probably not long enough for this to be the answer even assuming Irvine hadn't got here first, which throws that theory completely out.]
no subject
[Irvine looks around, feeling lost. Probably looking it, too, scruffy and ragged and just like he walked out of a battle, because he had. GFs junctioned and everything.]
A few hours, maybe?
[His sense of time is warped. He doesn't even know how long he was walking through that white-space before this place loomed up at him. But, hell, if Zell says he just saw them all ... all of them ... at least that means Irvine gets out. It means that everyone gets out.]
But you saw us all, right? Sefie, Quisty, Rinoa? Squall?
[Let's be real, Squall's got no confidence in his ability to not be alone. If any one of them was gonna forget where they were going, it'd be him. The dumbass. How d'you forget where you're going when you've got a pretty girl like Rinoa to aim for?]
no subject
He catches the inferences in Squall being listed last. It's something he'd agree with, were he not more keenly aware of what extended GF junctioning had done to them all and how much longer than any of them Squall had been training.
Either way, it doesn't matter. He wasn't lost, and that's all that matters to Zell.]
'Course. You think I'd say all of us and not include everyone in that?
[He'd spare more time to be indignant over that, except that his gaze then falls to his wrist again and other questions push themselves forward.]
They deck you out with one of these, too? Not sure what the deal with it is but I'm sure it's messin' with me.
[And much as he doesn't think either answer is good news, if it turns out it's just him then he is not going to be pleased.]
no subject
What?
[For a moment Irvine stares blankly, but then he registers where Zell's glance goes and follows it to his own wrists. Nothing there, so he looks himself over, digging in his pockets and finally picking at his necklace. There's a brass-and-crystal addition to the disc section, and he frowns down at it.]
The hell?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
bit of a timeskip okay?
sure!
(no subject)
(no subject)
Z!
Daud watches the newcomer with the gun for a few blocks, following along hidden in the shadows above. Then he drops down onto the street and walks into view, deliberately making himself obvious to avoid a startled gunshot. He walks slowly. Non-threateningly. The only thing he doesn't do is put his hands in the air; he's never done that, and never will.]
She's gone.
[There's only one reason a man under strain would repeat the same name more than once. Odds are, she's a woman.]
And you're terrorising half the city.
no subject
That's okay. I'm not totally convinced the city is real.
no subject
[Daud believed the same thing for a while. His more vivid dreams weren't actually dreams at all, but short journeys into the Void to speak with the Outsider. That was what convinced him in the end - none of his normal dreams remained so vivid for so long. His own mind didn't work against him like this.]
Why?
no subject
[Something not being a real person doesn't mean a dream. Those fake sorceresses right after the compression started told him that.]
For all I know, you could be one too.
no subject
I'm not.
[He's guessing, but it's a solid guess to make. Whether dreams or 'constructs', this man doesn't believe he's real. And if there's one thing Daud knows, it's that he's real.
So is the gun.
He nods towards it.] Would that kill a construct?
no subject
Why not? It did the other ... uh ... dozen?
[He kind of lost count after a while. They weren't very strong, but they were very creepy, with that cackle and those gowns.]
But you're the first one who's talked back to me, so ... maybe you are real. Where are we? Which continent?
[He's not expecting to know the name of the city, if it's either past or future, but the continent names won't have changed much. He hopes.]
no subject
[A world outside of time, the kedan had said. Daud knew where he'd heard that before. It didn't fill him with confidence.]
The locals think we're on the back of a giant turtle. If it's true, we'll make landfall eventually. Maybe you can find some answers there.
no subject
[... What. Irvine steps back, stops, stares. Exeter's still in his hand, but loose, and for the first time Irvine wonders just how far-reaching the compression actually was.]
We're on another planet?
(no subject)
(no subject)
feel free to drop, I just needed to round tags off o7