The Best Thing About Not Being Home is Missing You

[preuxchevalier]

There are people back home that your character hates. Or maybe they love them, but they're terrible people/influences. Here's your chance to talk or play out that special someone turning up in the Meadous. Are they so far out of their element that they're now defanged tigers? Do they lead right in with their wicked ways? What is your character's CR even going to think when they meet this person?
 

Post with your own character or the person they most/least want to see again who's a bad thing for them. Feel free to play out encounters in the snow between this character and your regular character's CR, or talk it out with if you're not sure you've got the voice down.
 

Fun for all ages! And by fun, we mean misery!

Comments

[defrostedpride]

OKAY I KNOW SOMEONE OUT THERE ALREADY HAS AT LEAST TWO OF THE MOST AWFUL PEOPLE IN EVEN'S LIFE LET'S DO THE THING!!!

[Which is to say, comment for people to bother Even in! Do it do it.]

[amourtician]

[OOC: okay, this is a top-level comment for horrible people to bother Jay.]

[nephewcrusher]

Agatha Craye, Lady Worpleston, is not a happy woman. She has somehow been kidnapped from her home and transported to some strange place beset by an arctic winter. The note on her nightstand - childish, it would hardly fool anyone if the kidnappers are trying some form of mind game - is tossed aside in favor of finding her furs and attempting to leave. They are very inattentive kidnappers, and if she can simply find a house with a telephone - there are none in the place she is, so they're marginally competent kidnappers - she'll phone the police, then Percy.

So, there is now a dour-looking old woman slogging through the snow and looking for doors to knock on. What is the sense of locking her in what appears to be a village. Her opinion of the kidnappers falls once more.

[amourtician]

Jay wasn't expecting Aunt Agatha, or indeed anyone that would be upset by the sight of a man in a frilly nightgown. In his defence, he'd just woken up and was still working his way up to getting dressed. He hadn't even managed to put on matching legs, just yet.

"Er, good morning, darling?" he says, squinting up at the woman. "Do I ... do I know you?"

[theghast]

There's a powerfully built man wrapped in a black cloak standing by the bulletin board, scrutinising the notes and idly trying to figure out the personalities of the inhabitants from their handwriting. So far, he's gathered that most of them have not been trained in penmanship and nothing else useful. He has found notes written in a hand suspiciously resembling Jay's, which has heartened him a little.

Always good to have allies in new and strange places.

He looks more amused than worried and there's something slightly predatory about his expression, too.

[oldhippie]

And now there's a middle-aged man waving to her. "Hey!" he calls over. "Don't think I've seen you around before. You must be the newest arrival. Don't worry, you're--mostly--safe here. Do you want the Meadous tour? It's pretty damn short, I'm afraid."

This man, Lady Worplesdon, happens to be dressed in denim trousers underneath some sort of puffy jacket. What hair can be seen peaking out under his knit cap in a short pony-tale is much too long to be proper. He's got a scruffy, no-account beard, a distinctly American accent, and his skin color and facial features indicate that there was some racial mixing on account of his parents. Very scandalous.

[letxequalnull]

Perhaps the worst thing is that Xemnas doesn't need to do anything to be a distressing presence. All he has to do is exist, or at least, be present. He cannot, after all, be anything less than he has always been and even here it seems that the chill of the void follows him.

He is, of course, just as unrepentant as ever, but this alone doesn't mean that he has any less reason to speak to Even. It simply means that the tone of the conversation is going to be... different. But such is the nature of life at the best of times.

[nephewcrusher]

The look on Agatha's face is that of a woman who, having just found a fly in her soup at one of the most upscale restaurants in London, has been informed that there is actually a whole fly infestation in the kitchen and the pilaf in her appetizer's rice dish had actually been made up of a not-insignificant percentage of maggots. This girl - man? - creature is an affront to the senses. Half an ear missing, the other tapered to some bizarre point. Gaudy blue sequins pasted onto their face, and answering the door without even pulling a dressing gown on? Disgusting! What if she had been a man?

"I should certainly think not. What are you," Agatha demands.

[nephewcrusher]

The fact that he appears to have the eyes of an albino is also just disturbing. He's not any sort of proper skin tone to warrant those eyes. What skin tone he is, and his general appearance, make Agatha wrinkle her nose as she would at a particularly foul leavings on the sidewalk that some careless person hadn't bothered to have their girl or man look after.

"I will be safe once you direct me to a telephone," she replies, looking down her nose at him. "I have been kidnapped. I should like to inform the police and my husband."

[letxequalnull]

There's more than one man in a black cloak lurking around the Meadous, it seems. This one, however, is one whose choice of blacks is a bit more coatish than cloakish. Either way, it is both the sort of thing that doesn't precisely bode very well and also the sort of thing that is probably going to be immediately familiar to a certain subset of people already present.

He cares little for that however. What matters is the people here, and how many of them can be put to good use - something that he cannot tell by the words left on the bulletin board alone. So it is that he can be found drifting along the streets, quietly exploring this new environment.

To those with magical senses, or simply those with enhanced senses he may also read as not only powerful dark but also of the deadly chill of the void.

[psycheslantern]

[[OOC: This is a top-level comment for all your Ammond-terrorizing needs.]]

[amourtician]

Jay raises an eyebrow at Aunt Agatha. Now this is something he would've expected back home, where he was one of the strangest things one could encounter on an average day. Here, that reaction is more baffling than upsetting.

"Er, a person?" he hazards. "My name is Jay Zimin, darling. You would be?"

[defrostedpride]

Even's already pale face goes dead white when he sees Xemnas. Of all the people he might encounter...he hasn't even hoped to never see him again, as if not thinking about him could keep him away. Superstition continues to be false and unhelpful.

"How did you get here?" he hisses, reaching for his shield as though it will do him any good in this fight. (If he thought he could outrun Xemnas, he would try.)

[preuxchevalier]

[[OOC: A top-level comment for those wishing to terrorize Bertie. He'll be out of confinement and may or may not be a vampire. Rolling all kinds of ways, man!]]

Sora has a million rp accounts, the life story

[thegirlwhodrowned]

This place was so small, quiet, deafeningly still. She hated it immediately as soon as she awoke in a casket, finding herself in the quaint little village. After tearing apart her house to relieve some tension, Ophelia doesn't hesitate to leave the house as soon as she's made the place a bit more homey.

Ophelia scowls, ignoring the chill biting at her skin as she steps outside to survey her surroundings. It's all so precious and sweet. She almost wants to puke, almost. The black tears that make up her dress stain the white snow as she makes her way through the village. It's hard to miss the blue woman in the first place. In some part she was looking for Eddie, in another- she wanted to know what this place was.

[oldhippie]

The man winces. "I'm sorry," he says. "There aren't any here that work. No wireless network and no landlines either. Most communication's done by passive-aggressive notes on the bulletin board and occasionally letters. I'm not sure if anyone's actually managed to sent a letter outside the Meadous." After a moment he adds, with evident reluctance, "Supposedly Warren knows the way in and out."

[oldhippie]

[OOC: Why am I making a top-level post for Nemo? He's from my own dang AU. That said, anyone who wants to be awful to him should feel free, even if you're from someone else's thing.]

[itsbraveanditburns]

[OOC: What goes for Nemo goes for Human Flavored Karkat, but have at anyway. Other people's terrors are very welcome.]

[kingroadie]

[Terrorize Eddie here, holla holla]

[preuxchevalier]

Bertie's happy to finally be able to go check the bulletin board now that he's free of his vampirism and the problems associated with it. Well, some of the problems. He's more than a little leery of getting near Ienzo's neck now, and vice versa. But that's to one side. He can trot along in the sunshine now, secure in the knowledge he isn't about to burn to a crisp.

When he sees the dark figure, he offers his cheeriest, "What ho!" and smile. "New to the Meadous are you, old fruit? How do you do? I'm Bertie Wooster. Frightfully sorry if you've been here a bit. I've been rather preoccupied. Oh! What's this? Ah..." Some of these conversations are... embarrassing. A lot of them are, in fact, when thinking of some random bird reading them. "People tend to get a bit overheated on the board now and again. It's a lot of silly nonsense."

[theghast]

Raimut glances in the direction of Bertie's voice, then looks away, bored by what he sees -- a gratingly cheerful man with poor taste in clothes and a tendency to babble.

"I awoke here this morning," he says, curtly. "I am merely ... investigating the place. It pays, Sudar Wooster, to know one's surroundings well."

The pauses he takes between words are reminiscent, ever so slightly, of Jay's speech patterns, though where Jay is breathless and a little scattered, Raimut seems measured and deliberate.

[defrostedpride]

Raimut will hear the voice before he sees its owner. In fact, if he doesn't do anything, he may not see the speaker at all, though the voice has a certain penetrating quality with which he is no doubt familiar.

"Don't you give me that look! You aren't quite so unintelligent that you don't know better, nor that you can't guess what I would not allow -"

[theghast]

Without looking in the direction the voice is coming from, Raimut rolls his eyes and calls out, "Zimin. Do keep your voice down. You're making a frightful racket," in a tone of voice that suggests he's both bored and exasperated. "You are no toddler. Exercise due control over your vocal cords."

It does occur to him that the language "Jay" seems to be speaking is certainly strange and there don't seem to be enough endearments in the snatches he's heard, but he chooses not to dwell on it. Jay's mask has been known to slip and he could be speaking another godforsaken dialect he picked up in some slum or other. That'd be just like the boy, to adopt such affectations.

[spare_parts]

[dist dist dist dist]

[defrostedpride]

"I'm not Jay," Even replies, sounding at least as exasperated. "Honestly, we sound nothing a-who are you?"

He stomps toward Raimut, a man in a lab coat who is very clearly not Jay Zimin on multiple counts. Also, there is a strange sheep-like creature trotting at his heels.

"Well?"