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expiationmeme2023-01-23 02:02 am
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
Welcome to the TDM for Expiation, a pan-fandom adventure game with fantasy, science fiction, and sometimes subtle horror elements. We ask that top-level comments are reserved for new characters and players looking to experience a taste of the world and overarching storyline. Feel free to submit any TDM / prompt-related questions to the corresponding comment below.
New players / characters looking to app are free to use TDM threads as samples in their application. Preexisting players / characters may use TDM threads as part of their AC proofs.
You may find the below links helpful in getting to know themes of the world, locations, the people, and so on.
A WARM WELCOME
The journey here has not been a particularly convenient one. The last thing you can recall is the room of blinding white and the incomprehensible voices that were speaking about you. Then came the dropping of the floor beneath you and suddenly you were falling into black. As you come to and regain a more clear vision of the world about you, you find that you are surrounded by pleasant greenery.
Deciduous trees are sprinkled here and there in some miscellaneous fashion. There are plants and flowers all about, the chirping of birds. Above you rests a fairly clear sky with a dotting or two of clouds. The sun is pleasant. Overall, it’s comfortable. Perhaps too comfortable.
MEADOWLANDS ARRIVAL
Within eyesight, though you can’t possibly know the footing distance, there appear to be fields. A portion of them dedicated to long stalk vegetables and the rest a neatly organised collection of leafy greens. Upon closer inspection, you’ll find that some of these look ready to be picked right away. Not much further past the fields are other buildings. Simple in style and not at all grand in structure or make. There’s people, too. It looks lively. The locals will tell you that you’ve set foot in Aldrip.
Not far from you, in fact relatively close if not in hand already, is a rolled parchment bound by a rather nondescript twine. If you unfurl it, you’ll find a generic welcoming message addressed specifically to you.Welcome to Expiation. We, who have found you so worthy and deserving, have declared you to be one of the Chosen.
The cryptic written greeting is followed by a collection of recorded statistics—physical and mental attributes, along with other observations about your person that clearly weren’t made by you (but may not necessarily be inaccurate).
Nearing the bottom is a peculiar line—You have been charged with ▬▬ and in accordance with the doctrine of this world, you have ▬▬ until you will face your sentencing. Prepare your defence adequately or face the repercussions.
In spite of that strange little addition at the bottom, which may or may not make sense to you, you’re not the only one arriving in the meadowlands. You have some options. Maybe check with a nearby fellow otherworlder, scour the fields, meet the locals. First impressions, after all, can sometimes last a lifetime.
WILD COMPANIONS
The collective of newly-arrived aren’t the only ones exploring the meadowlands. Curious about the various sounds created by those not native to the world, there are animals living in and near the surrounding areas drawn to the attention. Different types and sizes of birds and beasts or other creatures that may resemble ones from your home world begin to close in on your location. Do they mean to do you harm or are they only simply wary about who you might be and what you’re doing?
Some of them are incredibly friendly, especially if you’re inclined to provide them with food, or if they’re younger and they simply don’t know better. But be aware, for every young animal, there is likely to be a parent not far behind, and less inclined to be understanding of your strange fate in this new predicament. As such, no matter how cute something may be, reconsider taking it with you, else you may simply stir the ire of their families.
If you find yourself in a position where you’ve inadvertently stepped into a territory not meant for you, you’ll need to find either a strategic escape or resort to force and self-defence. Fortunately, some of these larger, more aggressive beasts, are much the same ones that the locals in Aldrip have been seeking to cull for the safety of the citizens. Maybe you can make some fast friends with the Expiation natives by bringing them something you’ve had to put down.
THOSE WHO WERE THERE
Those Who Were There are what the locals refer to their gods as, considering them responsible for their continued growth in the world, the abundance of their crops and sea life, the greenery that surrounds them, native wildlife, and some of the strangely advanced luxury items that make their livelihoods a touch more convenient.
You’ve arrived at an opportune time. Although the peoples of the continent freely show their appreciation for their higher beings, every once in a while, they celebrate by way of joyful festivals, grand songs, and more expressive means of their devotion.
FESTIVITIES
Aldrip seems to be a bit busier than usual, with a little more foot traffic than what may be considered a normal day in the life. There’s music in the air provided by lutes, panpipes, and the dulcet tones of men and women alike, expressing songs and tall tales of those they have come to revere as celestial beings. They believe that honouring their betters can be done with song and dance as much as it can be with offerings and prayer.
The town is bustling, a plethora of additional street stalls selling all kinds of local cuisine, jewellery, weapons, and accessories branded with insignias that represent the same wave motif as can be found on the charms every newly-arrived will receive. There’s raucous laughter, a plethora of drinks (alcoholic and non) that are passed along merrily to those wandering through if one doesn’t have a drink already. It’s the perfect way to integrate yourself with the people whilst taking in the celebration.
A portion of the town has had the land cleared, set up with a minimalistic coliseum ring for archery competition and one-on-one combat. Winners of these exchanges don’t get anything grand, but are presented with plenty of free food and drink, and some may even be awarded with some modest badge accessories from the local shops for providing the people with some sport.
Out by the fields, closer to the shoreline of the Talion Sea, there’s a grand pillar of fire that’ll burn all through the day and into the dark of the night where more music follows and accompanies spirited dancing.
SENTIMENTAL OFFERINGS
If you’re searching for a momentary reprieve from the bustle of the festival, there’s a modest walkway of cobblestone that will lead you from the main streets of stalls, drinks, and making merry. Following the way it winds and curves will eventually take you to an elaborate display of dried flowers, jewellery, fanciful cloths, and other items. Some of these hang from nearby trees. Some are draped over an altar fashioned of dark wood.
A local who spies you there kindly explains that it’s a place to leave items of offering for Those Who Were There, as gratitude for all they have granted their loyal people. They also explain that the more sentimental attachment you hold for the item you give up, the more pleased the gods will be with you. What does that mean, exactly? It’s difficult to say, but it seems that it might endear you to the locals at the very least.
Those who leave an item will receive a noticeable wave-like mark on the interior of their dominant hand wrist, almost as if it’s a brand of some kind. This is temporary mark and will only last the length of the festival, but if locals see it, they will be more inclined to give information on the land, the people, and perhaps even extra drinks, food, or shop wares.
Even if you don’t leave an item, as you’ve only just arrived and you may not have much on your person, the locals won’t punish you or think ill of you. It’ll give you a chance to gather yourself before you go back to the festival proper. If you choose to go back at all. The relative quiet is so welcoming, after all.
THE GLITCH EFFECT
NO SIGNAL
If you’ve arrived in this world with a mobile device or something akin to (notebook, laptop, and so on), you’ll find that whilst there are no electrical outlets, there are slender and flat platforms available to keep items of this nature with a charge. You cannot connect to a network and there’s no signal for a connection to grapple onto. That said, programmes that don’t require a connection to be of use (note taking applications, calculators, games), are still operable.
You may find, however, in the use of these programmes that perhaps images are not displaying properly. The colouration may be inverted. There may be unexplainable lines drawn across graphics. Text may not accurately be presented, instead a jumble and tangle of letters, forming what looks more like a mass of verbal tendrils across your screen.
Bizarre and strange sounds may emerge from your device, sometimes a low hum that may be indiscernible to others. Sometimes a high frequency that lingers in the air. It may be just a flash of sound. It may be several seconds long.
Furthermore, it is possible that you may find strange imagery imprinted on the screen temporarily, even where there should be no graphic at all. It’s there for a moment or two before it fades away, almost as if it’s subliminal messaging. The strange imagery is difficult to make out—a highly detailed eye, or perhaps what appears to be an angular face. No two images will be the same, though some may hold some eerily similar depictions.
This strange happenstance will occur periodically until the festival reaches its conclusion.
STATIC BUZZING
Don’t think if you didn’t arrive with a mobile device or related that you’re free from some of the strange electronic phenomena. Devices that are native to Expiation will experience similar errors. The difference is that the devices as a collective (personal computers, printers, cameras, the platforms for charging devices, and more) will emit a fluctuating and repeating frequency of sound cycling from high to low. Some will be able to hear it, some will not, but for those who do, it will come accompanied with a static buzzing sound, as if a connection somewhere is on its last proverbial legs.
There isn’t a means to stop the sound from emerging without depowering the device in question and even the locals don’t seem to know what to do. There are several devices strewn about Aldrip, however, so even if you should unplug one, there will be others expressing the same assault on the ears. Aldrip’s people don’t seem particularly alarmed, however, explaining to those who ask that this sort of thing simply happens every so often, and should they but have faith, Those Who Were There will handle all things ‘in good time.’
Unlike the personal devices brought in by newly-arrived, the electronic devices of Expiation will not display incorrect / jumbled graphics, text, or bizarre flashing images, which may be considered a blessing in disguise, despite having to experience the potentially annoying hum. This strange occurrence, too, will mysteriously end once the festivities have drawn to a close.
peter quill "star-lord" | gotg game
1. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go
2. Everybody Have Fun Tonight
3. Glitch Effect
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which is to say: he ignores peter in favour of the parchment. in contrast to peter's shouts, marc's quiet and still, expression pulled together in a tight frown. as far as marc goes, it's an easy expression, one he tends to default to more often than not and one he wears well. it's not the first time he's been described as 'chosen' or 'deserving', but his natural inclination is to consider both wholly negative — not at odds with the crime listed at the bottom. his apparent reason for being here.
(is he dead? he thinks there's a reasonable chance he could be actually dead.)
he hmms softly and starts folding the letter — neatly — to place in a pocket, as one singular word (name) catches his attention and he turns towards peter. gamora was the — someone that'd decided to collect the infinity stones, he thinks, although he'd never been entirely clear on the ins and the outs of that fiasco, outside of the general requirement to 'punch bad guys'.
a lingering moment passes, one where marc eyes peter and reaches the conclusion that he doesn't recognise him and mentally wishes he'd paid a little more attention to the infinity stones situation.
evidently, peter hasn't noticed marc because he suddenly, abruptly slumps to the ground and continues to talk to himself. briefly, marc considers leaving him be, letting him deal with whatever he's trying to deal with by himself and in his own time, because god knows marc isn't the most comforting person at the best of times, and then—
he sighs and approaches peter, coming to a stop an arm's distance behind him. )
There's a town in the distance. Whoever you're looking for might be there.
( ooc — aw yeah gotg game
also: cw/opt out for mk and/or if you're not comfortable with the character at all that's totes cool too! )
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Huh? Oh.
[ 'Oh, it's a Terran,' he doesn't say. Peter pulls himself up, fixing his hair in a subtle move to look the guy over. At the very least Rocket hasn't dropped him somewhere uninhabited. Terrans usually look out for each other, right? Peter shrugs, resting a hand on his hip. He'll take his chances for now. His blasters are always at reach, anyhow. ]
Hey, thanks! [ He smiles. He will not shut up now, buddy. ] I wasn't actually sure if they'd dropped me in some no-name planet again. Drax thinks it's super funny if I have to, [ Peter lowers his register, mimicking a very stilted Katathian accent, ] "learn to fend for yourself in the wilderness, Peter Quill." I mean, I bet kids on Katath had to like, spend a week roughin' it on Maklu-4 to get into high school or something. But this is a little much!
[ He says all this like it means something. Like these are totally normal things to say. He seems completely untroubled now, glancing in the distance then turning back around to face Marc fully. ]
Actually, you wouldn't happen to have seen like a green lady, a really huge teal guy, or maybe like... a walking tree and a racoon around here?
[ He is completely serious. But this guy's a Terran so like there's no way they aren't both space-faring Terrans of ill-repute, right?
ooc: dozens of us have played this game! dozens of us!! ]
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it wouldn't be the first time he's had a messed up dream. wouldn't be the first time he's hallucinated. usually, though, anything like that is a little more rooted in (his) reality: the midnight mission, his friends ("friends") both present and former, and khonshu. this is different and unknown in a way that he can't quite place, in a way that sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, threatening to turn into dread.
the ramble turns into a question, pointed and direct and marc doesn't answer, not immediately. the frown flickers, appearing momentarily more questioning and bemused than anything else, as if marc isn't sure of what he's just been asked, and— )
No. ( to any of that, but especially the racoon and the walking tree. he reaches into a pocket, pulling out the parchment he'd just put it there and holds it up between the two of them. ) I just got here.
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But boy, does he love talking, though. He feels a little worried that he's giving this guy a headache, (guess that's a no to the team being here, but he'll deal with it) when his attention is quickly diverted by the parchment Marc produces. ]
Oh! I have one of those, too.
[ Peter pulls out a similar-looking piece of parchment, which he'd crumpled into the inside of his jacket until now. It's crumpled a bit on the edges... and all over, honestly. But he did manage to fold it in half, at least. ]
They don't make paper this nice on planets that aren't still reliant on it. It'd be kinda cool if it didn't read like a rap sheet.
[ Peter chuckles. "Treason" isn't even something he's guilty of! He's going to maybe hold off on admitting to being an ex-criminal, but he's definitely testing the waters. How cool are you with former criminals, Marc? ]
Maybe this is some kind of new, uh... what are those called? Immersive experience chambers?
[ Escape room. ]
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he watches peter as he withdraws a piece of parchment much the same as marc's own, though where peter deposited it in a pocket of a leather jacket that marc thinks he hasn't seen being worn unironically since the eighties or outside of brooklyn, marc has a white three-piece suit, complete with crescent moon details on the buttons and the cufflinks. if nothing else, he's evidently dedicated to a theme.
the remark about planets earns a sharp, questioning glance but no comment, not yet. )
You don't agree with it? ( rap sheet, peter had said, meaning they've both been accused of crimes. for his part, marc can't disagree and — honestly — is surprised the list isn't longer. marc spector is a war criminal and has caused countless needless deaths, whilst his actions as moon knight haven't always been much better: mutilation, torture and gratuitous violence all in the name of a (frankly insane) moon god.
marc's attention flickers to his folded parchment then back to peter before once again pocketing the paper. carefully, pointedlt, he adds: ) Mine's a fairly accurate summary of some of my more interesting exploits.
( punctuated by a beat and a sidelong glance. )
—Immersive theatre? ( "experience chamber". )
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White is alright. Maybe white accents on blue would look cool. But Peter's hardly thinking about fashion. He'd much rather get whatever intel he can from this guy before he annoys him much further. ]
I mean, Nova Corps wiped mine clean after... you know. [ Peter makes a vague hand gesture. ] That whole flarking mess.
[ If Marc doesn't know about The Promise, then things are about to get real strange. Then again, had the Universal Church made it all the way to Terra? Peter didn't think to check, so he keeps it vague just in case. Sharing intel is a transaction, he'd have died real young if he didn't know the value of keeping some cards close to the chest.
Besides, he'd much rather have a pointless conversation about escape rooms. Too bad he doesn't know what the Hunger Games is, or he'd try for that as a suggestion. ]
Nah, that's not it. [ Another wave of his hands. ] I'm talking about the ones where you get locked up for fun... as like a team building exercise? I've thought about singing up for some, but Rocket has this thing about doors with locks... [ And cages, but he owes the guy some candor. ] This one's outdoors though, so maybe?
[ Why does he sound hopeful about that? Let's be real, Peter would love escape rooms. ]
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nova corps. peter says it as if marc should — does — have any idea as to what he's talking about and, like the vast majority of what peter's said, marc has a solid zero (0) frame of reference.
sort of, anyway.
corps doesn't tend to be used for anything that's not military, and given the other remark— peacekeeping, maybe? of the cosmic variety, which marc doesn't exactly hate, per se, but his wheelhouse is almost entirely limited to regular creeps and criminals, with the odd side of mysticism and the supernatural thrown in.
he makes a noise of acknowledgement, somewhere between a 'huh' and a 'hmm', mentally deciding that if — if — it's relevant, he'll come back to it later. ) Nope.
( does marc elaborate on whether he means 'nope, he doesn't know the 'you know, flarking mess'' or 'nope, not a team building exercise'? no, no he does not. not immediately. instead, he shifts his weight and looks past peter, towards the town (question mark) in the distance. he doesn't recognise it, doesn't recognise where they are: again, it wouldn't be the first time, but it would be the first time in a while.
he's had things under control.
he frowns — or, more accurately, his frown deepens, edging towards contemplative, and he takes mental stock of their situation: he has his suit, though not the mask. he has some crescent darts and he can feel the weight of his truncheon — "moon stick" — against his thigh. generally, he's exactly as he remembers being before the bright light and the unknown voices talking about him, before the fleeting darkness and the — here, but he knows that doesn't necessarily mean much of anything.
and it doesn't mean peter's wrong, not entirely. marc knows there are villains out there that like to get their jollies by throwing superheroes into situations not unlike what peter's describing. arcade? but marc thinks he's more the theme park kind of deal and this is not that. )
I'm not very good at teamwork. ( historically, it's worked out very poorly for him and he's always tended to end up on the less-than-favourable side of things with the avengers.
and if he's honest, he hates the entire concept of team-building. )
—I was in the middle of something and I'd like to get back to it. What do you remember?
( marc spector and peter quill: two men determined to not meet in the middle of 'how to have a regular human conversation'. )
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A vague answer for a vague question is about what Peter deserves. Nope, he's not interested in galactic escape rooms (planets?) and nope, he's got no interest in talking Nova Corps. That's fine by Peter, his relationship status with them is 'complicated,' and he's sure as hell not about to get into it before he even knows this guy's name.
But look, they're already sharing. White-Suit-Dude doesn't like teamwork. That's progress! They'll be friends yet, Mr. White-Suit-Bad-At-Teamwork Guy. ]
Maybe you just haven't met the right team! [ Peter grins with the kind of cocksure cheer that would get him punched by Gamora in most situations. ] My friends are pretty much the opposite of teamwork-material, but we work it out. I mean, sure, at first—
[ Ah, but it's a good thing Marc followed up with a question to distract him, or else Peter would have gone on another long, rambling discussion about the value of teamwork. He is soo good at those. ]
Uh, well, I kinda thought this was all a dream at first, you know? Big white room, weird voices, falling to my death... Pretty standard dream stuff. [ He shrugs. ] Unless you mean before that -- I was back home, in the Milano. We were on our way to get new business cards. Rocket says he knows a guy on Knowhere, but Groot wanted to make sure the paper was 'ethically sourced' so it took some digging...
[ He'll keep talking. He seriously will. Once again Peter proves to be literally incapable of shutting up. ]
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which is to say: it ends badly and it's less that he doesn't like it, as such, and more that he — marc spector, as opposed to, say, jake lockley — just really isn't in possession of either the patience nor the want or desire to communicate effectively enough to be a functional member of a team.
marc shoots peter a look of fleeting scepticism, lips pressing together in a thin line before peter stops himself short and veers towards answering marc's question.
they have the white room and voices in common, then, and marc has no idea what it means, isn't sure if that makes it more or less comforting. )
Hmm. ( he ... does not care about the ethical paper sourcing or the business cards (not that marc can really talk: he spray paints crescent moons across manhattan to mark his territory, not entirely unlike a disgruntled, vaguely artistically-inclined cat). )
That must've been how we were brought here.
( and it explains precisely nothing. ) —Or maybe where we were judged. ( given the parchments. )
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But if Adam Warlock can temporarily join the Guardians, who's to say a Moon Knight team-up is off the table, huh? Peter's getting the sense he's starting to get on this guy's nerves with the team talk, so he shuts his mouth and eases. There's a time and place, he knows that much. ]
How do you figure that? Did you have the same dream?
[ Communication is the key to proper teamwork, Peter would say. But he knows shared dreams aren't impossible, so he'll just assume that's what Marc meant. If it is, then this entire planet could be a dreamscape, and neither of them would know. He frowns, the memory of the Promise still fresh in his mind.
He closes his eyes and takes a breath, actually getting serious. It's like he's a different person, with how his voice levels out. ]
If this is another Promise situation I'm gonna be really flarking pissed.
[ This tells Marc nothing! They are literally incapable of communicating. Use👏your👏words👏Peter👏 ]
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I wouldn't call it a dream. ( though he's not sure what he thinks it was — almost certainly not anything overtly psionic in nature, but beyond that, he frankly has no clue. an abduction seems the simplest explanation, but the question of 'how' remains unanswered and it's annoying.
sure, marc has had his experiences with the multiverse, with alternate dimensions and timelines, meeting (and fighting) different versions of himself, but none of it's anything he's a particular expert in and none of this is ringing any bells for immediate and convenient comparisons.
he casts peter a sidelong glance before adding— ) Unless you're using 'dreaming' as a synonym for 'drifting in and out of consciousness'. ( his immediate impression of peter is that: yeah, he might not be the type to be especially precious about his terminology and descriptions.
still, he notices the shift in the way that peter speaks, even if what he's saying doesn't wholly contrast. there's an innate levity to peter, an apparent fondness for understatement that marc, even if he's not all that sure of everything that peter's saying, has at least managed to pick up on. )
—Another promise situation? ( false promise? dodgy deal? marc doesn't know and doesn't really wait for an answer. ) Do you often find yourself abducted and left to fend for yourself?
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But the concept of 'dreaming' versus 'drifting out of consciousness' is an interesting quandary. Not one Peter would normally sit on for too long, but he does ponder it. Was the shared space in Drax's head a dream? Was the Promise? It felt real, until it didn't. That's how dreams are, too. ]
I mean, sorta?
[ He sighs, bringing his hands to his hips. This guy must not know about the Promise. It'll make more sense if he explains, much as Peter doesn't like it. It's just not a cheery subject for him, which is pretty rare considering he can joke about killing mooks or nearly dying, but not this. ]
The Promise was this... thing -- this entity, that trapped people in their own heads and... promised to bring back the dead and stuff. It spread and killed a lot of people, making itself stronger the more people it hit.
[ He shifts his feet a bit, staring down at his boots to get his head on straight. It's fine, Peter. It's in the past, Peter. It killed Ko-Rel, Peter. ]
It was kinda like a shared dream. I mean, everyone was alone, but they were connected. Except instead of judging you or dropping you on a backwater planet like this, it showed you what your life would be like if the people you loved never died. If everything was good.
[ Yeah, this is getting a little too serious for him. Peter runs a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck in what's clearly a nervous habit. He clears his throat. This is about where Rocket would cut in with a rude remark for levity, but Rocket isn't here. ]
Anyway, I don't think this is connected... not really. But it wouldn't be the first time that the galaxy proved me wrong.
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but he gets it, in a way, even if he can't completely relate. he's lost people — his father, randall — but for him it generally works the other way. people important to him have left his life because of the profoundly negative impact he has on their lives, but he can see how it'd be tempting and how people could be drawn into something like that.
still: )
Mm. It's probably not related. ( it's not, strictly speaking, that marc means to come across as dismissive or unsympathetic, but given his circumstances and what he'd been in the middle of immediately prior to — whatever this is, he can't see the relation. not to mention, it'd be a sharp change of tac, jumping from allowing people to experience their ideal existence is wold's apart from presenting them with a detailed list of their self and a crime for which they need to— what had the parchment said? prepare a defence for. ) There aren't many ( ... ) entities, esoteric promises or otherwise, that like being inside my head.
( punctuated by a slight, dismissive wave of a hand, and marc shifts his weight, looking back towards the fields and the town in the distance. from where they are, marc can't make out many details: he can see the vague shape of people and movement, but nothing more than that. there's nothing that jumps out at him as marking the town or its people as threatening, but all that means is that they haven't noticed marc or peter, he thinks.
but—
he has his crescent darts and his truncheon, peter has— ) Does that work? ( uttered abruptly as he gestures at the blaster sitting on peter's hip. marc, frankly, has no idea what it does, but he likes to think he can recognise a firearm of some description when he sees one. )
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At the very least the Promise had just been a sham. Claiming you can do something and doing it are two very different things. Whether there's an entity behind this or they've been kidnapped by a secret space society with psionic powers, there's no way their 'judgment' holds any water. ]
Yeah. Probably not.
[ Peter nods, bringing his hands back down to rest. They're not related, he just has to believe that. All-powerful entities are far from common, and... uh, okay, he blinks a little when Marc mentions having one in his head but. That's none of his business.
You don't just ask someone about the entities living in their head. That's like a day 2 conversation at best.
Instead he follows Marc's line of sight to the town in the distance. They look harmless from here, but then again, weird cults always seem to go for the harmless look. ]
Sure does.
[ Peter unholsters his blasters and gives each of them a twirl before smoothly slipping them back into place at his hips. He doesn't see any weapons on Marc, but Peter knows the look of an armed man when he sees it. ]
Think I should set phasers to stun, or...? [ Don't worry, that's not really a question. ] Lemme see if I can—
[ Peter presses a button and his visor forms around his face. He stares off at the settlement, but his readings all return 'No data.' Just as fast, his visor retracts back into nothing. ]
Nope, I got nothing. Wherever this place is, it's way off the grid.
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it's soon replaced by a flash of surprise when peter's visor forms. it's less to do with the tech he's spent ample enough time with the avengers, after all, been adjacent enough to tony stark, and frenchie had always been a skilled engineer, but because he hasn't been expecting it of peter. it's a nugget of information he mentally makes note of, before lifting his shoulders in a shrug.
off the grid, maybe not real — it doesn't really matter as long as it has answers. there will be some element of the town that's expecting them, he thinks — the parchment is evidence enough of that — and the open fields mean that whatever element of surprise they have now through virtue of being unnoticed won't last the closer they get to the town. )
It won't take us long to get there, so just be ready. ( and marc looks about ready to make a move, but then there's a flicker of hesitation, and— ) If you come across a young woman by the name of Reese — dark hair, dark skin, red eyes, ( fangs ), she's with me. Tell her 'Mr. Knight' is looking for her.
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There's way more guns, for one thing. And Nova Corps is hardly Starfleet. But that's why guys like Peter exist—to make things a little more even for the little guys. At least that's what he'd say, if he was giving a speech about it. In the meantime he's happy to be underestimated. You only get to use the element of surprise once, after all. ]
I was born ready.
[ Peter smirks, his hands resting on his holsters as he gets ready to follow. Normally he'd keep his visor on if he was expecting a fight, but there's still a chance the people in town won't be hostile. A low chance, but Peter's nothing if not optimistic. I mean, look at them, they're already a team! White Suit guy even gave him his hero name and everything. ]
Dark hair, dark skin, red eyes. Got it.
[ He nods. Red eyes aren't even weird in space, so he just commits the name Reese to memory. But he's not gonna just let the 'Mr. Knight' thing slide, even if he's totally on board. ]
...Mr. Knight, huh?
[ Says the guy whose jacket literally says "Star-Lord" on the back. ]
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Well, odd for her, since technically, she was more familiar with the Middle Ages and not modern technology.]
...Why are you singing into your mug?
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So yeah, he very easily pivots to focus on One, even if he takes a quick sip of his drink. ]
Oh, this? [ He points at his mug. Yes, she did say that, didn't she? ] It's mug karaoke! I doubt this place has an actual setup, so I had to improvise.
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...What is karaoke? I'm aware there are those who enjoy singing, maybe around a campfire or a festival, but this is rather new to me.
[She just barely learned about electric guitars today too.]
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[ Peter gasps, playing his reaction up for effect. ]
Haha, I'm just kidding. It's a thing from Terra.
[ He actually didn't learn about it himself until he was older but shh, no one needs to know that. ]
People get together to sing songs they like. Usually there's a mic connected to an amp and sometimes you'll have background music, but I prefer freestyle.
[ I'm sorry Peter is incomprehensible without technology... ]
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My apologies, I should clarify a bit more. Based on some of the devices being discussed and used by others, I surmise humans have been able to progress their technology far ahead of what I am accustomed to. Thus, there are many unfamiliar terms I simply do not recognize. For example, I had been unaware of what a "electric guitar" was until an hour ago.
[She figured it was better than just asking the same question over and over again.]
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[ Her words might seem nonsensical to most people, but Peter knows the feeling of finding himself in a place with technology way more advanced than what we was used to. He takes a sec to think, then says: ]
Basically, there's a machine that'll make you sound a lot louder and plays music and stuff. We call that an amp -- it's short for amplifier. And the mic is the thing you sing into, it's connected to the mic and relays your voice so you don't just have to scream.
[ Wow, he is so proud of himself for this explanation. He's using his hands and everything! Way to go, Peter. ]
So Karaoke is when you use both those things to sing songs and get drunk and have fun with friends. Or strangers. Or anyone who'll listen. It's fun! You don't have to be good or any of that stuff, all you need is spirit.
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I believe I have a much firmer grasp on the subject now. It's almost like the taverns within my world.
[Possibly less stabbing anyway.]
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[ They're really not. But he'd like them to be. There's definitely lots more stabbing where he's from, alas. ]
I can't get a sound system set up here or anything, so I have to make it work with what I got.