destinystrings | Ινιθυις Ξασιβυς

Ινιθυις Ξασιβυς

♠ ♣ A Game of Chance ♥ ♦

Who: Anyone
Where: Aramid Room
Summary: You enter the Dream World and are given a key. But will you use it? (Note that your character does NOT have to come to this log, the dream only happens for characters you want to come to the Aramid room)
When: Futuredated to the 13th
Warnings: Some characters may have terrible desires. It depends who is there, but this IS the Aramid Room.

That night, you find yourself falling asleep. It does not matter if you never sleep, somehow these things always find a way, if you wish to come here. The blackest pitch and the sound of nothingness is your companions for a few tense minutes; you can try screaming out, but nothing comes from your mouth. But when all seems truly lost...

The first thing you are aware of when rousing from your slumber is the distant, muffled music of a piano.

It coaxes you roughly back to the land of the living, and when you open your eyes - all you can see is a ceiling of pure red.

This is the Aramid Room - or rather, your own personal room within it. The room looks pretty lavish at a glance; pretty flowers, polished furniture, silky looking bed sheets... but when you look closer, you realize those flowers are fake, the furniture is of veneer, not actual wood, and the bed sheets are nylon. It is like a tacky love hotel - hell, even the bed is shaped like a massive heart, with black and red sheets.

Resting on the bedside dresser is a plain white mask, a bowl of apples which never seems to run out, no matter how many you eat, and a small red key. The mask has a little note underneath that says "Please wear when leaving for the lounge, thank you!". There is even a bell for room service beside it - or so you presume in any case, since this place is mimicking a hotel so closely...

As for entertainment, there isn't really much. Just a small television mounted up on the wall, and its remote resting beside you on the bed. If you try the television, all that is displayed is static, except for brief moments of clarity, where it seems just commercials would play - commercials that, strangely advertised for your deepest, darkest desire, no matter how fantastical or illegal it is...

But that's if you wish to stay in the room. You might want to explore, right? If that's the case, all you will have to do is don the white mask and leave. To your right, you will see rows of locked doors stretching infinitely down the hallway you entered into - no matter how long you walk, you'd find them all closed and impossible for you to get in. You could try knocking if you want, but who knows if someone else wants to answer. The stairs to the lower levl will be to your left.

Follow them, and enter the lounge beyond...

▼ OOC : Instructions

▶ Welcome to the Aramid Room. There are but a few instructions here:
▶ Create your posts and if you want others to knock on your door, leave it open. Otherwise, have fun creating the commercials tailored to your desires!
▶ The lower level post will be coming a little while later.
▶ You do not have to play out all the request ends or beginnings. In fact it's encouraged to just use the forms (reply this month for a request, reply the next month saying the request is done) and handwave. However, the mods will be happy to do a reply, if you wish!
▶ To get a new Persona, you go to [HERE] and pick a public persona, then fill out a request [HERE]. NOTE THE EXTRA RULES AT TAKING OUT A PERSONA IN THE ARAMID ROOM, THIS IS VERY IMPROTANT!! Remember, public personas only! You can request a Persona (or two if you are a previous Persona user).
▶ You can requests can only be given to Edgar this month [HERE] and remember you only get one request per month.
▶ You can interact with characters in the upper levels if you'd like, and go to each other's rooms, hang around, have a drink (what is in that drink anyway?) or just talk between yourselves.
▶ The masks makes it impossible to know who the other person is, unless they tell you their names. Even if they are un their underwear. Yes, you are allowed to use a fake name.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

A figure wearing the blank mask is sitting on the foot of the unmade bed sitting in the middle of the room, apparently transfixed by the images broadcast on the television. Amid the blurry, lurid images filmed from too close and wanton feminine moans, however, sometimes a clip of a silhouette standing nude in the darkness, ankle deep in deep red blood can be seen for a few seconds at a time, accompanied by dead silence. As the camera zooms out more and more with each short clip, it reveals only more emptiness surrounding the shrinking silhouette.

When Miyako awakened, she sat up and looked around the room. One moment, she feel a desire to sleep and the next, she found herself...in this odd room. She moved to get off the bed, noting that it's shaped like a heart.

Her eyes was drawn to the mask and the key, ignoring the bowl of apples. She paused, vaguely paying attention to the piano, before picking up the mask. Turning it over in her hand, she read the note. Wear the mask when leaving the lounge? Was there a specific reason?

As she mused to herself, Miyako picked up the key as well. If this was here, it must unlock something in this location. The more she thought about it, the longer she fingered the mask in her hand. She glanced at it, before slowly putting it on. Hm, she can still take it off.

Miyako looked around the room again, her eyes fall on the television with static on the screen. Until it flickered and show a commercial, making her blink.

"...?"

Whenever someone entered the room, they would see a masked, androgynous figure watching the television. They seemed to be unaware of their visitor, but it can be tough to tell with the mask on.

Acknowledgement. Freedom. Choices.

Edited 2013-03-10 07:06 (UTC)

At first, Desco was kind of torn - the mask looked kind of cool, but it was ceramic. The yickiest of all building materials! She did not want that stuff near any of her mouths.

Then she realized how she could both wear the mask and prevent even the possibility of tasting the ceramic.

So now there's a completely anonymous tentacle monster sitting on the shredded remains of a tacky heart-shaped bed, a crude nylon bandana covering their mouth just barely visible behind the smooth white mask they are wearing.

This absolutely unfamiliar seven year old kid who is bristling with tentacles currently has their eyes glued to the television, where, in between bouts of static, is a never-ending parade of beautiful men kissing while all around them liquid chocolate cascades down in a decadent waterfall.

It's too bad you have no idea who this small, child-like shoggoth is, because this is obviously prime blackmail material.

A mask. Oh, how convenient. Not that he wasn't already wearing a mask, a flesh one, a sweet and pathetic persona which couldn't harm a fly.

He ties his long hair up, slipping the mask on afterwards. His slouching posture suddenly straightens, and he brushes off the dust and creases from his clothes. No, he can't be recognizable in this place, especially when a mask was provided for him to use.

He switches on the TV, and at first, there's static, but...is that?

Yes, it is.

He gazes hungrily at the sight of a building up in flames, the view of someone's inhuman remains strewn out on the streets. Yes. The one thing he wanted, the one thing he was prevented from doing...

His revenge finally brought to fruition. But that is a thing that will never happen now...

He awoke in confusion at first, frowning at the décor - as fun as a love hotel sounded, it's not actually a place he particularly wanted to find himself, for various reasons. Still, after he reads the note, he obligingly places the mask over his face and grabs an apple to snack on in the meantime. As he chews on the fruit, he turns on the TV, planning to idly flip through the channels, but...

The picture shown brings his mind and movements both to a halt as videos of happily smiling people play, enjoying their time together, entrusting one another with their deepest secrets, their joys, their fears. He's mesmerized, staring with slight disbelief even as a corny voice over begins to speak:

"Ever wanted a friend who understands you completely? Well, we have just the thing for you-!"

Edited 2013-03-10 04:11 (UTC)

After a period of poking around the strange room, and being mildly amused at the things the TV showed upon trying it - namely a whole lot of destruction of some fantasy-esque world - Xellos has opted to visit the lounge, to see just what's going on here. The mask, however, has given him an idea - they wish for people to don disguises? Very well, then.

He has changed quite a bit, as his normal priestly look is changed to something more befitting this establishment, both in physical and clothing terms. A slight shift of vocal pitch to match the look, and just enough sway to his walk to complete the illusion. And the provided mask, of course!

Now, time to investigate!

Blinking awake and pressing the back of his hand to his forehead as he slowly gains consciousness, Joshua lets out a soft sigh as he sits up on the nylon bedspread...

He looks around in confusion at the red room before him, wondering where in the world he'd ended up this time... Despite its tacky decor, which he would otherwise protest due to his rather picky taste, Joshua wasn't used to waking up in a bedroom that looked this... decorated. He was used to the stark white of Facility 1, or else the plain sheets and barren walls of his empty apartment building, both here in the city and there, back on Alpha Omega. It was almost a welcome change to see so much color in one room.

It takes a moment of exploring, but the drowsy Composer is able to get his bearings, the key stashed safely in his pocket and the apples left untouched. Gingerly, he places the white mask over his face, knowing better than to ignore written instructions in strange situations. Surprisingly, a perfect fit, covering his scarred complexion entirely and obscuring his expression.

It's only an afterthought of curiosity that gets him to turn on the television set in his room before he decides to make his way out. Nothing but static, at first... which wasn't unusual to him. It'd been ages since he'd seen any legitimate form of media or entertainment on a television set.

However, just as Joshua reaches for the power button on the remote, something comes on the television and catches his eye, something brief and beautiful and almost frightening. The camera pans on the smiling face of a girl he once knew- someone now long gone- as if the commercial was advertising her as a model. Joshua is frozen in place as he stares at the screen, body gone numb and cold, as if he was watching an apparition dance before his eyes.

When she turns to the camera and says his name, when she says 'Josh' in that playful tone of hers, looking him straight in the eyes and laughing at him, the Composer has had enough. His grip on the remote becomes crushing, and furious, as he glares at the screen. He holds up the remote before himself. A sane person would simply turn off the television set and forget about the entire situation... Joshua was too angry for that. Instead, the remote lifts itself from his hand and goes flying forward, straight as an arrow, through the television screen, thoroughly destroying it...

That probably made a lot of noise. Oops.

Something had bothered Adachi ever since that day.

A GIFT, THEN! GIVE THIS TO KURANES WHEN YOU MEET HIM IN THE FUTURE. HE WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Adachi never found out who Kuranes was. How was that even possible? Seriously, he was supposed to be the best detective, and even he couldn't find out a thing. What a pain... What a pain. It was as if he hallucinated the whole thing...

However, unlike the rest of the visitors, he already had a mask. His message was slightly different. 'You know what to do with your mask.' What? Wear it in this pseudo love hotel? Sure, whatever. Though, the tv was far more interesting.

Ugh, of course it didn't work. Adachi could've sworn it rippled against his fingers, but he must've been imagining it. The old used tv he owned didn't do anything, either. That would've been far too convenient. However, it did flicker on like the Midnight Channel. Images that didn't shock Adachi one bit, images that only made him curious.

What if he had gotten his way? ~~Persona 4 wouldn't have even happene~~ What if Mayumi and Saki actually had wanted Namatame for his money? What if...Adachi had been able to blackmail them for that? There were so many what-ifs flashing about the screen that Adachi didn't even know what to do with himself.

You know, actually... He could really use some food for this little show. Adachi glanced down at the little bell. Would it work? He doubted he'd leave soon, after all, so he might as well use it...

Come on, what's the worst that could happen?

Edited (what the hell is grammar you guys) 2013-03-10 11:25 (UTC)

Red. Deep, rich red everywhere and the soft fabric and it was a bed, and red too, and he was on it, oh gods--

A screech could be heard from outside his room, and a crashing sound, and then he burst into the hallway, scrambling away from the door as quickly as he could, to... rather un-gracefully hit the wall all the way on the other side of his hall, in his mad rush to leave the place he'd woken up.

Anyone who wants to come out to that part of the hall would get to see the burd sitting on the ground, pressing his knees to his chest, wings up around him, taking deep breaths to calm back down again, casting very wary looks at the room, if he looked at it at all, rather than burying his face against his knees. He hasn't put on a mask, so he's easily enough recognizable; he didn't stay in the room long enough to realize there was a mask, or that he ought to put it on in the first place.

The room's door was still wide open. Inside, it was already a mess. The bedspread had nearly been torn from the bed in his mad scramble to get off it, and his wings' flapping in doing so had upset the table. The bowl of apples, the key, the mask and its note, the remote control, everything had been dashed to the ground. It was probably a miracle that neither the glass bowl or ceramic mask had broken.

He had, however, stepped on the remote and turned the TV on. Should anyone look, it was quiet, showing images of a man being killed in disgustingly torturous ways, torn apart, beheaded, strangled, impaled, the list went on. Someone really hated that guy, apparently. In between those scenes, now and then, were images of someone else -- someone with long, curly gold hair, either as a peacefully, relatively neatly dead, skinny little androgynous teenager... or a similar someone, but clearly alive, a grown, obviously adult man, relaxing, hanging out in a pool or a tub or wherever that was, having a good time.

Feel free to WTF at him there in the hall, if you'd like. That screech probably managed to be heard from the other rooms, if that's what roused your interest.

...well, this felt familiar.

Yu was reminded of the first time he had arrived in the Velvet Room; he'd drifted off on the train -- there was nothing to do of course, but he hadn't felt tired. Next thing he knew, there was the sensation of riding around backwards, and the soft hum of the train was replaced with the louder sound of wheels rolling by on pavement. His eyes had flung themselves open at that sound, and he found himself sitting on the plush seats of the limo that was the Velvet Room, face to face with Igor and Margaret. He gave his name, agreed to a contract to take responsibility for his own actions, figuring this was all a dream anyway...

But it hadn't been a dream, just as he was fairly certain this wasn't a dream either. His attention, of course, was immediately drawn to the key left on the table, and he carefully picked it up, like he was afraid it would bite him any moment. It... looked like the Contractor's Key he had received from Igor, but... different, sinister. Something told him he didn't want to have anything to do with it, but he slid it into his pocket anyway.

His eyes turned to the mask next, a cold feeling settling in his gut as he was reminded of the Anoli. Did this place have something to do with them...? That thought turned the cold lump in his stomach to lead, and he almost tried to pinch himself, as if that would help wake him up. Instead he fought through the feeling, reaching over and snatching up the mask, not missing how cold and heavy it felt in his hands. If this place did have something to do with the Anoli, maybe he could get some answers...

After a moment, Yu swallowed his nerves, sliding the mask on before he stood up, heading for the door.

Geis was floating above the bed, knees tucked close to its chest, the plain white mask grasped in its hands. It was turning it over, seemingly oblivious to its otherwise gaudy surroundings. Its life was so exciting suddenly. Shifting from one world to another... Geis wondered if this was a dream though.

Last time it thought something was a dream, it wasn't! So best to proceed with caution...

Ignoring the television entirely - which was just fizzing nonsensically - Geis remained floating above the bed as the various objects in the room began to be lifted up in the air. Carefully though. Geis was not playing with them, just inspecting! That was allowed, right? So long as it didn't break anything...

Just careful examination.

If anyone came in, they would see the strange energy being playing a bizarre game of juggle the furniture, the white mask resting securely atop of its head. The red key was even zipping about, mimicking a bird frolicking in the sky (okay so maybe it was playing a little bit).

Kazuya's initial thought when waking up was that he had been kidnapped by that one Succubus again, before remembering that he had left her long behind in his home world. How many times had he woken up in a love hotel, with her gleefully trying to seduce him in hopes of having the Demon King under her thrall? Far too many.

Far. Too. Many.

Kazuya sat on the edge of the bed, still looking about himself suspiciously as he munched on an apple. It was kinda sweet tasting, but at the same time, it was difficult to swallow down. He didn't know why. Whatever, there wasn't much else to do... the television was just giving garbled nonsense between blackouts, and Kazuya wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to leave the mystery love hotel with a mask on.

He felt like he had wondered into some freaky cult...

As if in response to the fact he wanted to ring the bell, there was a faint knock at the door. Either room service was really prompt, or...

"Is someone in there?"

...it was just a kid. There was a pause, before he knocked again, as if making sure.

Adachi was stunned silent for a moment when he answered the door. Huh, that was an elaborate headpiece... It was a pretty good disguise, to be honest, because who would wear that thing out in public?

"Wow, this place has some pretty good service!" And weird bell boys. "I was just wondering...do you guys have anything other than apples?" Adachi made an unnecessary motion with his head behind himself. Then again, did he ever do necessary ones... "Not that I mind, but it's pretty odd!"

The pharaoh let out an affronted noise; wow, rude.

"I don't work here," he replied firmly. "I was looking to see if there were others here."

Forget that, there were more important questions here.

"Wait, so... Did they give out extra disguises or something?" Hey, at least Adachi isn't rude enough to reach out and touch Yami's hair. "Because that seems a bit over the top..."

...it figures; he ends up finding the most crazy person in the place. Still, it was obvious this guy was supposed to be from the city, so...

"What are you talking about?"

Yami was the one going around wearing a...spike...spikes on his head. What was all that. If it was a disguise, though, Adachi wasn't going to touch it. Come on, he wasn't even interested in finding out who this kid was.

"You know...that thing on your head." How could he not know that, though?

Edited 2013-03-10 22:08 (UTC)

...oh. Well, he could sort of understand why he would think that, but. Just... no.

"That's my hair."

Really, the leather pants and dog collar didn't give the clue that maybe he might have been a little out there with his style?

After forcing herself away from her room--from watching that television--Miyako explored the area with her mask on. She didn't really know what's going on, but she intended on finding out.

She approached a door and knocked on it.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

It seemed like someone's at the door. Respond?

"...Are there anyone inside?"

Not just someone, but what sounded like a girl.

"What?" Was he serious? Was he really serious? Okay, now Adachi couldn't stop himself from reaching over ~~and touching the truth that was Yami's crazy hair~~. At it not budging, he...

Oh... Oh. Oh, uh. Uhh. "What." Excuse you, his canon actually doesn't have people with crazy anime hair... "How...?"

...did he seriously just do that?! The pharaoh let out an annoyed noise, reaching up to swat his hand away.

"Hair gel!" he explained, maybe a little more irritated than usual, but c'mon already. Who touches another person's hair like that?! "You're from that city too, right?"

... Seriously what is that ding a ling a ling. Naoya, mask on his face, knocked hard on the door.

"Shut that thing up!"

"Hair...gel..." Right...

Yes, Adachi just seriously did that. It's not his fault Yami's hair broke the spell...and kind of made this a jokethread. Oh dear...

"Huh? What's your hair being like that got to do with me being from the city?" Good...guess? "I've never met anybody who wore a peacock's feathers on their head..." Was he really that out of touch?

Edited 2013-03-11 00:11 (UTC)

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Ινιθυις Ξασιβυς

Open

Open

NEVER SORRY

OPEN TO ALL

OPEN

Open!

Open~ (AU Joshua)

open opeeen opeeeenn

Open!

OPEN

OPEN

OPEN

Grammar is totally something you can eat

keywords

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Re: OPEN

Re: OPEN

I don't know if we can do icon breakdowns in logs, so I'll unfortunately leave it like this

Oh god ADACHI

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all my threads became joke threads...