TDM - JANUARY 2021

[robbies]

TEST DRIVE MEME - JANUARY 2021

Good to the last gasp.
CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma and other problematic material, body horror, dolls, violence

---

“Help me. Please, help me…”

A child’s voice, calling out for aid. There’s no rhyme or reason for when it comes to you. It’s so quiet, a whisper in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Were it not for the sharp, stabbing pain it pulls out of you, you could ignore it. You could even pretend it’s just your imagination.

It all happens so quickly and powerfully. Left in the dust, your brain struggles to process it all. Blacking out is the least it can do, but it’s also all it can do, and it does so before you even have a chance to fully register just how young the voice is, and how deeply, heartbreakingly lost it sounds.

When you finally awaken with your bare feet tangled in soft sheets, a layer of fuzzy fleece or slinky silk clinging to your body like another layer of skin, the sunlight pouring in from the window next to your bed momentarily blinding you, and the cries of happy children playing outside of it carrying faintly, it all becomes very clear—

Something is horribly wrong.

---

JANUARY 1st.

It becomes very clear very quickly that this isn’t a simple kidnapping. If you’re twenty years old or older, the bedroom you wake up in is very clearly a couple’s bedroom — with separate beds like a modest, modern couple of course! A similarly lost and confused stranger is in the other. They are your counterpart, for everything in this room has a matching counterpart — the nightstand and lamp each of you have beside your beds, the framed pictures on the wall, even your pajamas. If you’re under twenty years old, your room is smaller but more personalized, filled with comic books, model kits, stray baseball cards littered around the floor. Dolls, fashion magazines of people dressed from a bygone era, stacks of vinyl records neatly arranged next to a record player. And then there are the pictures. They’re everywhere in the house — in a frame on your nightstand, hung on the walls, stuck in the photo albums and scrapbooks lying on your desk or tucked away in drawers. Here you are on your wedding day, exchanging vows with your partner. Here’s you sitting in a fishing boat with one of the younger members of your house. Here’s a picture of you at ten years old getting ready for the first day of school. All of the photographs are aged, sepia, even yellowed and dusty in frames hung for a long, long time. By the time you make it down to the living room, you’ll notice that the television is on; someone must have forgotten to turn it off before they went to bed. On it, the morning news is playing. The newscaster, a man in a gray suit and horn-rimmed glasses, keeps shuffling his paperwork on his desk as black and white footage of people in the midst of celebration — throwing streamers, wearing paper hats, toasting flutes of bubbly liquid — is interspersed between his droning report: ”New Year's Eve was in full swing last night as citizens from all over Santa Rosita came together to ring in 1961. A surge in ginger ale and sparkling cider beverage sales was reported by Honeybees as early as eight o'clock in the evening, a boon for the store…“

---

GETTING TO KNOW THE NEIGHBORS.

As you get acclimated, you gradually begin to learn more about this strange new world you’ve found yourself in. You’re in a neighborhood on the east side of a town called Santa Rosita located… somewhere in California (wherever or whatever that might be). The year is 1961. If it wasn’t clear enough, your neighbors are more than willing to humor you if you ask. Even if you accost them with questions and demands. Sure, you and your family are a little kooky, and you have a very overactive imagination, but the key to any good joke is playing along! And how could something like “I’m from the future, from another world” be anything but a joke? A. CLOWN AROUND. If December was a time for sweet treats and good food, January is the month where everyone is trying to unload their leftovers. Who better to enjoy them than you, the newest family on the block? Your neighbors have quite a bit of food to share: Throughout the month, they'll stop by to say hello, bringing a new sugary dish with them each time. As always, jello molds are a staple. One plate turns into three turns into five, and by the end of the first week of January, you're likely to end up with a collection of jiggling pink, green, and orange lumps taking up space in your fridge. From mountains of Whip 'n Chill to Broken Window Glass cake, you'd be forgiven in thinking that there's no end to it. And yet, there's the occasional exception. Someone comes by with a Bundt cake lathered in vanilla icing and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Were it not for the giant candy clown head topping it, it would almost look good enough to eat. "There's a rumor going around that you've been a bit under the weather, so I thought this would cheer you up!" they say, right before thrusting the technicolor nightmare into your hands, the clown's dead pink frosted eyes staring up at you. Your neighbor is quick to tell you to eat it while the icing is still fresh (you never know who might lick it off when you're not looking, eh kids?), but not that the clown itself is made out of styrofoam. That's something you'll just have to find out for yourself when you take it back inside and start chowing down!

B. SNOW DAY

What awakens you one cold Friday morning isn't the blare of your alarm clock or your family getting ready to start their day or even the chilly air that tickles your toes as they poke out from the bottom of your covers, but the sound of hooting and hollering outside your window. The sight that awaits you when you go to investigate is something out of a Norman Rockwell painting: The entire neighborhood is outside, playing and carrying on in the snow. While everyone was sleeping, Santa Rosita got four inches of snow, more than enough for the schools to close but not enough to stop everyone from enjoying it.

And enjoy it they are! Children build snowmen in their front yards while their fathers work on shoveling their driveways. Most, however, are busy erecting snow forts in their yards and the middle of the street, running back and forth as they collect ammunition for an ongoing snowball fight that takes up half of the neighborhood. Nobody is spared from their assault, not even the adults, and especially not the newly arrived ones who leave the house. Good luck getting the mail, mom and dad!

"Come on! There's plenty of snow!" one young boy yells at you over a snowdrift. "You can join my team!"

"Nuh-uh!" another boy shoots back. "You can join my team!"

And on and on it goes. Well, for the pacifists among you, making snow angels is always an option!

---

THROUGHOUT JANUARY.

CW: gaslighting, potential mentions and depictions of trauma, and other problematic material

There’s no business like show business! And business is hopping at the Starlight Drive-In, which has been boasting about its all-new film premiering on January 2nd and playing all month long. The critics are raving, the townspeople are flocking, and plans to go to the drive-in seems to be all anyone can talk about. “Make sure you get there early to see the serials,” many of them suggest, eyes wide with excitement. “I couldn’t look away!” Whether you come with your family, your friends, or simply come on your own, the lot is packed, Robbies and normal townsfolk alike beaming as they hook the individual speakers onto their cars. Apropos of the cold weather, the concession stand has added seasonal items to their menu, serving up hot chocolate and kettle corn in addition to its usual soda and popcorn. Watching a movie against a backdrop of gently falling snow while you're sipping on steaming chocolate and melted marshmallows has a certain je nais se quoi to it that even you have to admit is appealing. At last, when it's finally dark enough to start, the projector clicks on from the booth in the back of the lot and the movie begins. A. COMING ATTRACTIONS. The movie, Curse of the Doll People, is a horror flick. A real chill-o-rama, starring actors you've never heard of playing a group of archeologists who unknowingly trigger a deadly curse that sets a group of murderous living dolls upon them. The poster pasted on the ticket booth promises it'll be the most fun you'll have screaming. Unfortunately, you have to sit through several minutes of previews first. The coming attractions aren't anything special — a bunch of westerns, a romance, even a beach musical. Far from being bored to tears like you might be, the people in the cars around you are glued to the screen, popping snacks into their mouths and whispering their commentary among themselves. The movie is the reason why everyone's here, sure, but you don't just get one flick out of going to the pictures! There's also the serials, little 5—10 minute long chapter plays that tell a story in pieces. Nothing can beat those, and when the first one starts, everyone sits in rapt attention as if it were the feature presentation itself. But as the scene opens up on a sight that is instantly familiar to you, and your own face stares back at you from the projection screen, it becomes clear that this is no ordinary film. You watch your memories play out in grainy black and white footage, aired for all the world to see. Or perhaps not — though you may not realize it, the movie playing out on the screen differs from person to person. No one sees the same thing. The person next to you might see one of their worst fears come to life, whether imagined or real, practical or fantastic. You might see one of the worst moments of your life — the death of a friend, your hated enemy bringing you to the brink of death, your absolute lowest point — exactly the way you remember it... save for the way your double on the screen occasionally turns to face the audience, staring directly at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. Or the way your loved ones will sometimes go off-script, gazing at you with pleading eyes as they beg you to help them. The people of Santa Rosita will see an exciting battle between two pirate ships, swashbuckling and cannon fire in place of the traumas you're witnessing. When the serial ends on a cliffhanger, much to the disappointment of everyone around you, it's almost a mercy. "Tune in next week for the thrilling second part!" Well, you will, won't you?

---

END OF THE MONTH.

CW: body horror, dolls, violence

Aside from the horror of the drive-in, January might seem to be passing calmly... until one night, something changes. In the middle of the night, once you fall asleep in your comfortable bed (or on your couch, or with your head lolling against the kitchen table), a nightmare comes to you. The shift from whatever dreams you were having to the cold, dark void you find yourself standing in happens gradually and quietly. So too does the image that plays out in your mind's eye: From out of the darkness, a featureless mannequin stands ramrod straight, facing you with its arms pressed rigidly to its sides. It has no face, no identifying marks, no features at all. It's a blank slate in every sense of the word... until it isn't. Slowly, the material of the lower half of its face begins to split as a searing pain tears through your own, as if invisible fingers are ripping your lips off inch by inch. The slit on the doll's face widens and deepens until, finally, mercifully, its new mouth opens as yours disappears, replaced by a flat, smooth barrier of skin. Like it was never there to begin with. The pain returns, this time in your arms and neck — right as the doll's own begin to jerk. Your joints are hardening, seizing up as the doll's arms go from minutely twitching to slowly flexing. While every nerve and bone from your fingertips all the way up to your shoulders grows heavy, the doll tilts its head and looks down at its hands, as if seeing them for the first time. By the time it takes its first step, you've taken your last: the pain has spread to your feet, ankles and toes hardening and locking into place. Every part of you is claimed this way; what isn't taken by force simply fades from your body and shifts into being onto the doll's, your skin replacing its cloth body, your clothing dressing it, your hair filling out its head. Your tongue goes numb as the licks its newfound lips, coarse cloth and batting surging up from your lungs and all the way to the back of your throat. By the time it's over, you can't move. You can no longer breathe. All you can do is stare at the perfect, eyeless double of yourself standing before you. As your eyes begin to burn, the last thing you see before everything goes black is the sly curve of a smile — your smile — before the face wearing it turns away and walks back into the darkness. Luckily, you wake up to a room full of sunshine and the distant sound of traffic as the neighborhood gets ready for another beautiful day. The morning air feels cold and dry on your skin. You're you. As much as you've always been. Right?

A. DOPPELGANGER.

It's the kind of morning that makes you want to sing. Where the sky was once dull and grey, it's now a deep blue. Barring the usual hustle and bustle on the streets of Shadyside, the first sound that greets you when you wake up is the steady beat of water trickling outside your window as the snow begins to gently melt under the rays of the sun. You may even hear the chirp of a bird! January, in all its dreariness, is nearly at an end.

When you leave the room to go downstairs — or upstairs, if you slept in the living room — the house is quiet and flooded with sunlight. With how perfectly silent everything is, it's easy to mistake the calm for solitude and think you're alone.

This is not the case.

Waiting to greet you is a familiar figure. If you go downstairs, you'll see it sitting in your kitchen with its head bowed and its arms hanging limply at its sides; if upstairs, lying in your bed on its back. There's no mistaking who it is. Even at a distance, their hair, face, clothes and features all instantly recognizable, and you know who it is before you even fully register their presence:

You.

Motionless, your doppelganger looks more puppet than person. Its chest is still, not a single breath leaving its mouth. Its eyes are closed. They snap open when you get closer to it, wide enough to see the whites, as its head jerks up to look straight at you. In a staccato imitation of your voice, it chirps at you:

"Hi!"

"Good morning!"

"Hello!"

"Rise and shine!"

Your clone is a good imitation, but not a perfect one. Its movements are stiff and uncoordinated, like a marionette being commanded by unseen strings. Though its cheeks are rosy, its skin is pale and almost glossy with the texture of newly polished porcelain. None of these setbacks bother it in the very least. If left alone, it goes about the house mimicking your morning routine, though given how awkward just walking is for it, it's almost certain to do a very bad job. Still, it tries its hardest, following you all day around the neighborhood, trying to imitate your movements — all with a smile!

That is, until you become aggressive with it.

It doesn't take much to set your doppelganger off — a simple shove will do it. When that happens, its eyes will do the impossible and open even wider, its mouth yawning into a wail that pitches louder and louder. That's the point when it will lunge at you. Its hands will try to go for your throat, but not always. It's resourceful enough to improvise with whatever it has around it, whether that be a kitchen knife, a paperweight, or even a letter opener. Luckily for you, they're fragile. Just hitting them is enough to crack and chip away at their skin. With enough strength, their limbs can even come off. Unluckily, they don't stay down for long; even a severed appendage can be popped back into its proper ball-jointed place.

All the while, they never stop childishly whining and shrieking at you.

"Not nice!"

"Why are you so mean?!"

"Not nice, not nice, NOT NICE!"

The only way to shut them up for good is to keep pummeling them until they're nothing but a pile of doll parts. But be thorough — even a mouth that's nothing but a shard of porcelain can still talk.

---

OOC INFO

Hello, and welcome to We're Still Here's second TDM! Here's a few things we'd like you to keep in mind:

The TDM is canon. You can treat this as the game's first real event and pick and choose what threads you would like your character to remember when they enter the game. For characters who app into the game, the events of the TDM will be treated like a dream. Upon awakening from it, characters will find that time has jumped ahead to February 1st. You may also feel free to use similar reality and/or time distortions to explain why the family members your characters have in the TDM aren't the same as the ones they may be assigned to in the game proper. Additionally, starting today comments made to the TDM will now count towards Activity Check. Current players are permitted to use up to five comments from it for this month's Activity Check — half of the required amount to pass. The other five must be made within the game's communities.

If you would like to have January or other winter-themed content in your relaxed housing prompts, please feel free! You are not beholden to follow our prompts exactly so long as the spirit is maintained.

There is no Network prompt listed, but feel free to wildcard one for your characters anyway.

Although the TDM is canon in the sense that characters are free to remember its events when they app into the game, it does not count as an official plot heavy event, meaning that characters will not receive regains from participating in it.

A note about the drive-in theater: Players are in full control over what memories, phobias, or fears the serials before the movie will depict. You can also specify whether or not other characters will be able to see your character's serial. Be sure to label your threads with relevant content warnings if needed!

---

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Comments

angelo sauper | gundam unicorn

[apodictic]

THE NEIGHBOURS / SNOW DAY

Enough. I don’t care for your stupid games.

[ angelo, irritated, snaps at the nearest child that tries to coax him into participating in their games. he moves over a snowbank, stands at the top of it and peers up at the sky with a serious expression. ]

… ridiculous. Am I in Earth?



COMING ATTRACTIONS
CW. VOMITING.

[ the minute his memories started playing in the reel —

angelo freezes right where he is, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. he’s about to burst into anger and outrage when the audience beside him starts laughing and whooping and then he realizes that he and the audience are looking at different things.

what’s going on?

he leaves immediately. he rushes towards the very edge of the parking lot and that’s where he ends up vomiting his dinner onto the back of a tree, wheezing as he staggers to his knees.

that was a hallucination, wasn’t it? he wipes his mouth with the back of his hands. targeted. if he didn't know any better he'd think it was a hit put out at him, some kind of weaponry aimed at the newtype in the audience. he feels angry, and ashamed, but: if only he was the one who’d seen it, then that means it was a private moment, at the very least. one designed to torment him, but all the same —

when he emerges from the shadows, he looks pale and sickly. he makes a beeline to the concession stands. he wishes there were something like alcohol around.

he queues up, still feeling like shit as he waits in line to buy food and water. ]

Have you any gum?



WILDCARD.

pm me or pp me at ilium @ plurk if you want other things.

( prompt: coming attractions. )

[sunborne]

Oh- Yeah. Give me a sec-

[ he's pretty sure he bough the entire inventory and then some. he's got to have some dang gum on him. daylight fully turns around while he pats himself down, finally pulling out a packet of garishly-coloured gum to hand before presenting it to the other guy.

but then a thoughtful expression comes and goes on his face and it seems he's made a decision because he quickly adds, ]

Honestly? You can keep the whole pack, buddy. Gives me an excuse to buy more stuff and stay here than go back to the picture show.

[ he's pretty sure the concessions vendor is making a killing right now. good for them. ]

[apodictic]

[ angelo has choice words about being called buddy (whomst!!! whomst allowed this!!!) but he'll refrain because he has just been offered more than what he asked for. ]

Thank you.

[ and it is, at least, better than having to suffer with his current state, which chewing gum is only marginally making him feel better. it stops him from grinding his teeth into dust. he can't even imagine how terrible he looks to someone else right now that they'd willingly part with the pack of it. ]

Are you not going to the movies?

[sunborne]

[ daylight manages a wavering grin at the question and shakes his head in reply. ] Honestly? It’s not showing something I want to see, I won’t lie. Been hiding out here for the last... Fifteen to twenty minutes, give or take.

[ he crosses his arms and manages to hide a wince when the crowd at the screen suddenly cheer at what they're seeing.

daylight chances a look and quickly wishes he hadn't. stars- that's nasty to see on the big picture. he looks back at his talking buddy and tries to drown out the talks by asking, ] You new here as well? I don't think I've seen you around before and I've been stuck here for a month already.

[apodictic]

A month?

[ apologies, angelo's face seem to have gotten stuck in a permanent show of irritation, and worry. so yes, he's new. though the fact that someone's asking him like he's in prison certainly bristles on his pride. ]

That is unacceptable. It's not like I'm not busy.

[ he wonders if he knows about his experience in the movie theatre, as well, but there are other more important things to consider here aside his hurt feelings regarding his .... hallucinations about what was on the screen. ] What have you learned about this place since then?

[ he's not feeling up to queueing anymore so he goes to the side, so they can have this conversation proper without being in the way of other people. ]

[sunborne]

[ daylight is sympathetic to the guy’s plight but is quick to raise up his hands while they quietly shuffle to the side. he’s going to do his best to show he doesn’t have any, like, game-changing information to hide so please don’t try to start a tussle with him. last thing either of them needs is the attention of the too-smiling folk are who now wandering over here, checking on the lingerers, no doubt.

he spares them a suspicious glance because trying to get back to the current topic— attempting to answer the questions to the best of his abilities: ] We’re all surviving, basically. [ he pauses, trying to figure out where he should start. ] A lot of us have been stripped of pretty important stuff— Things like powers or important items. In my case, I somehow lost my original body.

We’re all… clustered together. We quickly noticed that part real fast. Kept in ‘families’— [ he does air quotes here, his face twisting a bit to show how he feels about this. ] —and being told we totally moved in here as one big happy gang. The town keeps doing weird stuff to try and throw us off. Like... We had murderous reindeer chase us down to try and trample us to death. Twice, in my case.

[apodictic]

[ what is a reindeer, let alone a murderous one. angelo can't even imagine what that was, and the fact that it can ... trample people to death? so it's like a horse? angelo hasn't really seen that in-person either, maybe a few in shows here and there. how bizarre. he can't even tell if that's an earth fauna or this ridiculous city's fauna.

that his 'original body' has been replaced with a human one is disturbing to him. but it is not .... entirely out of the realm of possibility if one is capable of pulling people from different worlds and into a forced 'family'. it is .... entirely possible even in the context of his own world, even if it's tied up to newtype research. losing items are regrettable, but if you're the tyrant in the equation, it's par for course.

so, a city subjected to the whims and harassment of its captors, whoever they are, beyond dictating the general behaviour approved of in groups. if you remove the supernatural aspect of it angelo is familiar with the same methods, and purses his lips into a thin line. though really, the familiarity and understanding isn't out of empathy but because of his work and general experience with war.

but even neo-zeon has its own ideology to adhere to. terror like this doesn't have anything apparent in order to explain itself, which makes it difficult, beyond "keep these individuals here." the only way to find out is to stay, and the way he talks about it it seems like nobody has any success leaving at all; or if they did, it's something that isn't up to the new residents.

a pity he is now trapped here and cannot report back to his captain. but if it is planned, then it can be endured and ridden out.

figures, however, that he would be trapped in earth, of all places. ]

What provoked those attacks? [ the murderous reindeer, that is. it still seems ridiculous to him, but if it's a threat .... ]

I have heard there is a mayor. Do you know how deeply involved he is in the city?

[sunborne]

Honestly? How the hell do I know? The reindeer thought if you so much as existed around them, you pretty much forfeited your life.

If you went near their territory, they would literally chase you down, even if you were in a car, to try and ram you off the road. I have the bruises to prove it-

[ daylight tugs his garish sports shirt to reveal the mottle of gnarly purples and blues across his chest. it looks like the work of a seatbelt trying to desperately keep him alive. and thank good for the belt, too, with how the reindeer would not leave him and okuyasu be until they beat them back and outgunned them after a ridiculous chase.

(and no, before one asks: he still does not know the reindeer are still lingering in the town and will be staying at that. the poor guy.)

but- concentrate, daylight! as for the question about the mayor... ] He seems to be beloved, from what I've gathered so far. I remember him being the belle of the ball during this talk he had announcing the gala. Seemed popular enough.

[ he pauses and looks around, wanting to make sure no one is listening to them.

when he's sure, daylight is still not taking any chances. he leans forward to whisper this bit of information, ] He pointed me and others out during the speech. Ones who are also in the same situation as us. If he's not in the know, I'll be shocked.

[apodictic]

How interesting. And nothing else, I suppose, for the rest of us trying to survive this horrible town.

[ he looks at their surroundings balefully. he can tell he's going to have problems here -- he is not a nice person, neither does he have a politically palatable version of himself that can probably pass around here. ]

How is your 'family'?

Snow Day

[righthandstand]

Yeah.

[Okuyasu is not a child, but he's technically considered one by the residents of Santa Rosita, and why skip out on the opportunity to enjoy one of the world's simple wonders? He has a small pile of snowballs beside him and working on a fifth.]

America, actually. Guess you're from a different year, too. [Though Okuyasu can recognize the town for what it is, only being from 1999.]

[apodictic]

[ never mind the year, he's not even from the same planet at all. and has never lived anywhere near earth when it's not really safe for someone like him. ]

I have never wanted to live in Earth. I have no business with it.

I had hopes that this can be communicated to our captors but I don't think they care. [ a pause, and he stares at his pile of snow. ] You're clearly not doing anything important.

Have you tried leaving this place? Or have you heard of any success regarding that endeavour?

[righthandstand]

[The fifth snowball goes into the pile.]

Don't tell me you're also an alien. [If this starts being a trend, Okuyasu might have to pay for everything he said about Mikitaka.]

That's what we're tryin' to figure out. The neighbors aren't the ones behind this, but the mayor could know more. [He lumps together more snow.] I dunno. I'm not the one you should ask these questions to, I'm not a detective.

[apodictic]

I am not. People can and have lived outside of Earth for years. It doesn't make me an alien. They don't exist.

[ angelo huffs in annoyance. earthnoids are so ignorant damn. that being said, as to whether he's fully human or not, that's something up to debate, so maybe okuyasu has a point here, which he just won't acknowledge because angelo doesn't feel like it at all.

but the man does say something important to him that catches his attention. ]

There is a mayor? [ angelo frowns. for something as elaborate as this, if the initial goal was kidnapping and ... brainwashing, perhaps, which angelo attributes to how nice and normal the neighbours are making an effort to with regards to their experiences here, new or otherwise, why need a mayor? for what purpose? ] Is he involved in this town? Has anyone seen him?

[ he'll keep the questioning simple since he'd said he wasn't the inquisitive type. ]

[righthandstand]

Man. The future sounds wild.

Well, that's enough. [He's referring to the pile of snowballs. Okuyasu stands up and stretches like he did a full day's work of farming.]

Yeah, there's a mayor. I just saw him once at the Christmas party, but I dunno if anyone else met him after. I'm pretty sure he's got all the answers we need, but the trick is getting him when he's alone.

[Not that Okuyasu seems to be particularly worried about that at the moment.]

[apodictic]

I'm sure with the right motivation it can be done.

[ he says it blithely. it's not something he'd like to attempt for himself, in any case, it's too dangerous to do anything considering he'd just arrived. ]

And the future isn't wild. Inevitable, perhaps. But there's nothing wild about something that will come to pass regardless.

[righthandstand]

It's gonna be different from what I'm used to, that's for damn sure!

[The 1960's are bizarre enough; think about hundreds of years later!]

But we gotta make sure we don't stay in our houses all day. We can't plot how to overthrow the mayor if we don't go out and meet each other. Wanna join in? [He picks up a snowball.]

[apodictic]

[ what the hell is the 1960s. that's too much in the past for angelo to consider.

angelo raises an eyebrow at him. ]

I will admit - I did not think you were capable of such a thing.

[ yes he is aware this is a snap judgment and therefore maybe uncharitably formed. no he doesn't care. HOWEVER. ] That being said, I am not going to turn down the offer.

I have military and combat experience.

snow day-ish

[fanoperator]

The sound of his own house door opening and then shutting is a disorienting thing to wake up to, and Huaisang's paranoid enough that he wakes immediately, rolling to his feet and listening carefully. But he hears nothing inside the house, only the voices of children outside trying to coax a new playmate, and the playmate sounding not willing at all. Leaning out the window to assess, Huaisang decides it's nothing to worry about just yet. A new addition to his house. He's almost getting used to this. They come, they disappear.

Wandering downstairs in a cozy robe, Huaisang makes himself a cup of tea and grabs a cupcake for breakfast before he wanders out onto the porch with his second cup of tea to see if his new housemate is still out front. He sees the departing form of Okuyasu and the children who have resumed bullying this new arrival to join them in their game. "Are you coming in for breakfast?"

[apodictic]

Angelo has been up very early - old habits die hard, and it's not like he can sleep properly anyway given the circumstances.

He was also out exploring not just because this is new to him, but because he hasn't seen snow before at all. The colonies have climate control, and space doesn't really have much room for seasons. Snow is a concept he'd heard of in stories and tales about "the old Earth."

So, his judgement: it is inconvenient. It's cold. It is incredibly unappealing. After talking to a neighbour and scolding the children, it dawns to him that his housemate is already up, which is a stranger concept still. He frowns at his question.

"I have eaten." Toast, egg, coffee. All a person needs, really. "Or are you asking for company?"

[fanoperator]

"Um," Huaisang says, considering that. He's ever so slightly affronted with how quickly his new housemate made himself comfortable with the foodstuffs in the house. "I suppose so. Are you... are you supposed to be my husband or my child?"

It's a legitimate question, especially considering that Huaisang only looks about twenty-two, and Angelo's serious demeanor makes him seem more mature than he is.

[apodictic]

"The roles we have matter very little to me. I suppose you can call me your child. Make no mistake, however - I can handle myself."

Given the technical definition of the term, given how this world operates. Whatever. Angelo can take care of himself, or he can take care of him, though he isn't really the most affectionate person to do it; his style is more utilitarian, having never learned the merits of being a civilian when his entire life had been the military structure of Neo-Zeon. Though it is very strange how things have been set up to have him as 'the child'. He's very much uncomfortable with it.

Angelo gets out of the cold, at least. He had half a mind to rebuke the need for company, but he's been told that it pays to play along with the what they were given. In any case there is no reason to reject it considering it is beneficial to live together and act like it. He did not like the idea of a family, imagined or not; he had never thought of going back to one when his original experiences with it are terrible to begin with; but nobody chooses the circumstances in which one is kidnapped on an extra dimensional scale.

"I am Angelo."

So strange to not need his rank before introducing his name, and even now Angelo feels the itch to take it back and do it properly. But there is no reason to do that here, and he'd rather not be picky about something so needless as his rank when nobody is to benefit from it. Yes, he thinks, I'm sure Captain would agree as well. First names are alright.

[fanoperator]

Glad to return inside, Huaisang hesitates a moment in the hallway and gives Angelo a polite little nod of his head in greeting, the most minimal bow. Though he doesn't know Angelo's native rank, he's willing to bet that his own is higher, and he's currently in the role of parent. It's not a role he ever expected, but nor is 'wife' a role he ever expected. "Nie Huaisang of Qinghe. My family name is Nie, you may be expected to use it while you're here."

He's not quite sure whether to act the part of a host or a superior to his new guest-son. Fidgeting slightly, Huaisang gestures toward the kitchen. "There are some important things you should know about this new place, though you may know some of them already if you had any... dreams here before waking up this morning. Would you like tea or liquor?"

[apodictic]

Liquor? In the morning? In this hour? In this household? He hasn't even done any cleaning yet, he's not really too keen on keeping some of the supposed 'objects' that are assigned to him in this place. Angelo glances at the clock and figures he should not, in fact, drink anything before lunch time. It is only prudent, and he's sure his Captain will agree, if he were here.

"Nie, then. Tea is fine. I'm not opposed to liquor, but maybe later."

And how should he take that statement? He doesn't quite know. There are plenty of things that shouldn't be happening in this place, to him, but are; the fact that this is indisputable is irking him, but he's trying to make peace with it. It will not do to wear one down with the frustrations of a situation where the endgame is playing along. It's not like he's incapable. He'd just rather not.

Angelo follows him to the kitchen. Having eaten already - and tidied up besides - he sits down to set the table for them. Cups and saucers; some fruit, if only to have a thing or two to nibble on while drinking tea. He makes a mental list of things to add to the cupboard once he figures out how jobs work in this place; it has been ..... a while, since he'd figured out how to act like a civilian, let alone someone agreeable to Earthnoids.

And perhaps this isn't Earth, but what difference does it make? There are certainly no signs that this is a colony. His biases remain. Angelo seats himself across him, looking prim and proper and too stiff even as he sits. "If you're not opposed to talking, tell me whatever you think will be useful."

[fanoperator]

Huaisang has been an irresponsible drinker since he was a young teenager, and he sees no reason to stop now. Especially now, in this strange and frightening place. His liquor cabinet is fully stocked.

Making tea for the both of them, even though the tea is sadly sub-par compared to what he drinks at home, Huaisang settles down at the table, pleased by how his new son has set the table for them. "I first arrived here in October, but the house I was in was a different house, and I had a husband and a daughter. In December, I woke again, having entirely missed the month of November, and I had a different husband and no child. Now I wake in January to find no husband, only you. In October, the month ended with undead children attacking every house that didn't have a carved vegetable lantern to light the porch. In December, doors would randomly teleport you to the inside of a frozen lake. I nearly died, and some of the others like us helped me to make a refuge out there for those who were caught by the teleportation. As the month worsened, I abandoned that and stopped leaving the house. The world outside was blighted by an endless blizzard, and the storm was stalked by these monstrous deer-creatures who fed on flesh."

Huaisang shudders, somewhat wishing that Angelo had wanted the alcohol after all. But at least the tea has the comfort of warmth. He hugs his hands around his cup and cradles it close. "There's more than that, but what matters is that this place is hostile. It's crucial to fit in with the locals, or to at least appear to do so. If you draw attention, you may be pacified or worse. There will be monsters and attacks. So far there has been some new horror every month or so. I expect that pattern to continue."

Miserable with fear, Huaisang tucks his feet under himself, chewing fretfully on his lower lip.

[apodictic]

Angelo recognizes the tell-tale signs of fear. One needn't be a Newtype to be able to distinguish that, anyhow. He listens to him quietly, not interrupting his story at all, sitting still in his chair like he was made to sit still forever like a stone sculpture. It's a lot of practice from his work, going from one sponsor to another with his Captain as he tries to maintain himself as a pillar while his Captain negotiates. Out of habit, it seeps back into his mannerisms here.

The tea, at least, is nice and warm. He pays attention to the story and frowns. At first, he wanted to ask him if he didn't just hallucinate all of this, but some of the stories he's heard from encounters he's had here and there. At the end of it, he lets Huaisang's words linger in the air, fingers tapping on the table as he considers his warnings.

He is bad at comforting. This is not a skill that is cultivated in Neo Zeon; he will not even try, because it will not come from a place of sincerity. His Captain .... is not human, and therefore needed none of the comforts most humans seek from each other; Angelo didn't even seek it from him. But he understands this situation as an ongoing problem: there are hostilities present and they need to survive. At any moment they can be attacked. Phrased like that in his mind, it becomes a puzzle that needs to be solved, and that is actionable.

"So the house needs to be secure," Angelo says in reply. "As best as we can manage it.

"You will draw more attention if you do not leave. I understand fear, but participation is part and parcel of 'fitting in'. If you are afraid, then call a friend, or wait for me to join you when you leave the house. You do not need a reason to be outside. Simply observing the town is reason enough to be there - that kind of information is valuable.

"As for the rest of it .... we cannot fight the supernatural aspects of this world, but if it is physical and has a body, then it can either be killed or dismantled." Angelo sips his tea, pensive. "Horror does not need any justification. It just means that we do not have the power. And that means it is something to be endured; which, in turn, means that there can be an end."

Angelo ponders it deeply and thinks about his Captain, who is the void made flesh; the one who has seen the end of time. Yes, horror can be endured. And those who have seen the other end of it are made even stronger. "I do not intend to die in a place that has not been defined for me as my own grave. I have duties to return to and a Captain to serve. In his grace, I will endure. And if you wish to keep surviving and to stop being afraid, then follow my lead."