destinystrings | The Search for the Newcomers, December 2012 Edition.

Entry tags:

The Search for the Newcomers, December 2012 Edition.

Who: Open to Everyone, but only Newly Accepted Characters can start threads.
Where: All around the city! They appear where you want them to appear.
Summary: Newcomers arrive and by now the Government is more ready and sends everyone out to go people hunting.
Warnings: ARRIVALS. Also assume the first thread is the ones who tell you about the city, and the other tags for the character can be talking with others in the city and learning more about it.

[FOR THOSE IN THE CITY:]
They were getting much better at this, it was for certain.

Last month's initial testing of the HORUS system had worked really well. The device which allowed everyone to spot abnormalities; and now even more refined, they could hone in on newcomers at a much faster pace. The leftover energy from the travel (commonly called Magatama Residue) gave them a few minutes to find them before it would flicker out.

Combined with the fact they could appear in most parts of the city, it made finding the newcomers was both easy yet frustratingly difficult.

As the blips appear on your own radar function, it was also nice enough to calculate for you the best transport and destination routes to take to get there. Speed was of the essence, after all.

[FOR THOSE WHO JUST ARRIVED:]
You're not in your homeworld anymore. That much is evident. So how do you feel? Happy? Sad? Troubled? A little of all three? No matter what, the memories of a butterfly man named Philemon are fading like a dream; you'll remember the details, but perhaps not everything he has said.

There is one word that stays with you, however.

Persona.

So...here to save the city, huh? First you'll need to find out more information. And who knows, maybe a familiar face or two...

[OOC: As stated above, only new characters can start a thread, but feel free to jump in any of them. characters arrive with their clothing and whatever items they had on them the moment they were taken; the remaining items will be later found in their apartments.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Are you alright?"

Don't look now, Garra, but there's a mess of a guy standing in front of you, bent over slightly in clothes that are a bit too big for his body, squinted eyes blinking behind messy long brown hair. He doesn't at all look like much- Sam looks like the guy made for living in a dark corner of an alley than a nice room.

He waves a hand, trying to get his attention. "Hello? Staring at the sun isn't good for your eyes, you know..."

If he was capable of making societal judgements Garra would definitely count this guy in with the scraggly-looking types. Not that he...looks all that much better, really, but that's important--doesn't even matter as far as Garra's able to concern himself.

No, what concerns him is that he's suddenly being spoken to and that distracts him from being...distracted...by the sky. The sun was bad for them? Maybe that explained why they were watering so badly. Huh. With a slight blink he pulls his gaze downward to look at Sam with consideration.

It might also be the sun spots in his vision though. "...Oh. That's why it burns then right?"

What an odd guy. Sam glances to the sky, as if he's missing something vitally important to the comprehension of this conversation there, but when he doesn't find it he just turns back to Garra with a confused look.

"Yeah...it usually does, unless you wear sunglasses. What, don't you have a sun where you come from?"

"Which one?" ...Of him, he means, but there have been precious few people that have actually understood the question and Garra remembers even less of them than that. It's not something he's bothered to keep track of and he isn't about to start now, closing one eye and rubbing at it through the lid.

Unfortunately, Sam misinterprets that to mean something similar to "which sun are you talking about", which leads him to think that there must be a multiple sun thing going on where Garra comes from.

"Which one?? You have multiple suns, and...you don't know that looking at them causes pain." What even. Wow, this guy must be stupid. "Well...at least you know, now?"

"There's more than one??" This is the worst communication failure ever, wow. Not that suns particularly matter to Garra other than to produce shadows (which he rather likes), but he's pretty sure he only saw one sun up there. So he turns his head up again, trying to squint into it.

"No, that's what I thought you were saying."

Nope, definitely as dumb as a rock. Internally Sam is just lamenting his wasted time with this guy, but hey...dumb people could be useful, too. Better stick around and look friendly as he can.

He wrings his hands, frowning.

"Ugh, really you shouldn't do that. That's not a good idea if you don't want to go blind..."

"Only one would go blind," Garra replies through squinted eyes when he pulls his gaze back from the sun to this...talking person again. This blurry, sunspot-filled guy. Man that is a lot of color. Garra brings both blackened hand up to rub at his face like it'll help--and no, those aren't long gloves. It's his actual skin and it looks like it's been dipped in ink or something.

"Why, is the other one blind already?"

He's rubbing his face again, just like any regular person would do after staring into a giant ball of intense light. But Sam notices that what he thought were gloves...weren't really gloves at all. He was so focused on watching him stare at the sun that he didn't even look downwards, at his hands...

"And, I'm so sorry if this is rude, but...what happened to your arms?"

As if one cue Garra holds them both up in front of him, looking them over. They seem to be just fine enough to him... He doesn't what what problem they might have. He hasn't broken them yet or anything.

"What-what happened to my arms? They're still mostly good I think, probably. Don't need new ones yet." He opens and closes one of them approvingly before dropping both at his sides and leaning in a bit, he canting. "What about yours?"

"Yet?!" That choice of words makes Sam narrow his eyes even further. "What...what do you mean, yet??"

And now he's being asked about his own arms. He pushes back the sleeves of his jacket, showing normal, pink skin. Which is a lie, of course. It's just what it looked like before what had happened to him. But it's a good facsimile, a good facade of what it should be like.

"See, mine are all normal...but what is the black stuff on yours?"

"It's just me. Me-me not this me. I have a lot of me's but it's just this one. See?" Still following him Sam? No? Excellent.

"Riiiiight."

Nope, not at all. Which is infuriating, really. Sam lets out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Well, um...do you have a name?"

A name? Well, he was sure he could find out his Host's name if he bothered to search through his memories... But he doesn't feel like doing that at the moment, so he shrugs. "Not for this one yet. It hasn't come--if it lasts maybe? I'll get one then if they decide it or I'll not get one." It's up the the ones who actually care about that sort of thing.

Not even a name. Sam clenches his fingers slightly before letting them fall loose again, the only sign he's not liking this conversation too much. There isn't much he can work with here. It's all open-ended, vague phrases, and for someone who plays upon words so much, he needs that logic and sense in a conversation to turn it towards his own needs.

"Okay, let's take this one step at a time. I...I don't think you're human, based on the whole black skin and "this one" and staring at the sun and all. Therefore, just answer me this...what are you?"

Edited 2012-12-12 02:08 (UTC)

Oh Sam...Sam, Sam.

"Which one?"

And he's not doing it to be cheeky, surprisingly enough. It's just the way the amalgamation of minds have come together to classify and sort things in his head. Each of the minds he's eaten are one of "him", the body is another "him" and the Grower is another. They're all different types but ultimately as far as he's concerned they'll all him in their own way and also totally separate. But he doesn't have the mental processes required to differentiate between them on the same intellectual level as a human.

Ughhh. This guy. His tone turns a bit snappy, patience not really holding up very well.

"Choose whatever one you want, I'm not picky."

Oh goody, this sounds like a game. Picking whichever one he wants...well that'll be fun. Garra knows exactly what he wants to start with as he looks up at Sam (yes, he's a little short) and blinks once, twice--and on that second blink the whites of his eyes and their bi-coloured irises are instead filled completely with black. No more pupils, nothing...and a half-second after that three more pairs of similar eyes open up on his forehead.

"This one is the bug! This one here, see?" He lifts a hand to pluck at his hair like it'll explain things as clear as day. "Not all the legs are eight but probably because there's only half! But it's very tasty. Hmm..." He closes the extra eyes but leaves the two main, holding up one hand next. A slight twitch and quite suddenly the black around it forms itself into a series of spiky blades which entirely replace his hands.

"Don't remember this me! Old, old one. But very sharp, also tasty. Meatier."

Now that was something Sam was not expecting. He jumps back with a slight yelp, holding his hands in front of him as if he's expecting the eyes to jump out of their sockets and start attacking him.

"That's...that's really creepy, oh my god!"

It really isn't, honestly. Sam's more intrigued than scared, peering over his hands with a frown as Garra explains. There's...versions of him in the same body, is that what he's getting at? A bug, a spiky hand thing, and maybe one more, all wrapped up in that one body...

"Goodness, that's...why do you keep talking about tasty? I mean, you don't e-eat yourself, do you??"

Eat himself?? That's a silly question Sam. A silly, silly question if the wide, fanged grin that spreads across his face is anything to go by. "Not always right away. Usually breaks and then you can eat! But before that you should make it good to keep it. Unless you find something tastier. Are you tasty?"

"NO!"

He shouts that, cringing as if the very thought of it is enough to give him nightmares.

"No, no, I'm...I'm definitely not tasty! Not at all edible, please, don't even think about it. I'm the worst meal you could find around here."

No, really.

"Really...?" It's definitely an animated reaction, goodness. Garra can't decide if he should understand it as one of those silly ways humans expressed themselves of what.

"Really, really. Just...please don't, I don't want to get eaten, please."

He doesn't even seem to care that his begging tone is sort of ingratiating. He just waves his hands back and forth, shaking his head.

"But...that's what you do? You eat people?"

"Only when wanting to... No reason if still good, this one." Now minds however...those he didn't mind plucking out. Those were always a good snack. Lucky for Sam, he doesn't pick up on any of the usual connotations; there's not enough inside his head working together to form suspicion and quite frankly he doesn't really worry about that to begin with.

"You're going on with the whole "this one" thing, again..."

He lets out a sigh and lowers his hands when it's apparent he's not going to be this guy's new dinner.

"Why did you ask me if I was tasty, if you don't want to eat people?"

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wow enter key wow

you tried C8

sobbu

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