cyan_maid: (Goodbye and thanks)
[personal profile] cyan_maid

What a farce. I was trying to act as if we were all living normal well adjusted lives, albeit in a marvelous fantasy setting populated by skeletons.

A call-me-out post for any and all post R2 of Airlocked scenarios with Jane Crocker.
luce_felice: (Default)
[personal profile] luce_felice

- Post your character, name, and series in the subject. Include any preferences as well.
- Go to RNG and enter 1-6 for a scene type, and 1-20 for a scene to play out.
- PLEASE indicate any preferences in your initial comment and nsfw material or content warnings in your initial responses. I'm cool with whatever on here, but I'd like it if you let lurkers or readers know what they're getting into!

Pick your poison! )
cyan_maid: (NO NO NO)
[personal profile] cyan_maid
Who: Jane Crocker and Max (OC, Airlocked R1)
Where: Deadland
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: M for being dead and miserable and suicidal
What: Airlocked R1 AU - What if Jane died? TIME TO MEET THE CHAMPION PORTRAIT ARTIST

[...Well. Hell is a boardwalk in Florida. Who knew? Not Jane, at least - and not that she'd ever been to Florida to know that it's usually not as dilapidated. But hey, you don't choose where you go when you die.

At least, if you're lucky, you can choose how you go.

She'd gotten desperate, panicked. Frightened. And if her memories were anything to go by, it didn't really matter if she died, right? She was a walking corpse to begin with. There wasn't any use in sticking around...and, at least, no one would be thrown out of the airlock this week. Everyone would be safe for a little while longer. It was fine. Totally fine. Laying in this gritty, cool sand? Super fine. Hearing the ocean ebb and crash on the beach? Awesomely fine.]


[Jane spits a little sand out of her mouth.] a lot less fine than I thought it would be.
cyan_maid: (Maid of Life)
[personal profile] cyan_maid
Who: Jane Crocker (post Airlocked R1) and Dave Strider (post DRRP R3)
Where: Dream bubbles
When: Uh idk time is fuckin weird in space, but at the very least after the events of both rounds mentioned above.
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: M for dead bodies and gore and all that shit
What: Murdergame crossover between two living canonmates

[Six hours to the Vegas Quadrant. Six hours to kill in a tiny spaceship with the people who have come to mean the entire world to Jane over the course of seven weeks - people she loves like family despite their faults, who love her in turn in their own ways, who are knit together through their pain and tears and stubborn wills to live, and one gleaming, distant goal that zips through the uncharted cosmos. And she is tired.

Granted, you could call what had been done to her an extended nap in and of itself, but being able to cry real tears and shout with real strength, and the thrilling rush of reclaiming her real belongings, holding Lightning's real knife in her hands and finding the weight just as comforting as it had been in the simulated space station...she was exhausted. And, well, they had plenty of blankets and horrid shipping shirts and clothes that weren't going to be worn. The others can have beds if they need them - Jane doesn't want one. The pile she makes in the office where she and Togami had found so many things is a private sanctuary, and despite the weird, lumpy accommodations she falls right asleep.

At first, her dreams - the first real dreams she's had in two months - are properly dreamlike and weird. Jake has rabbit ears and white eyes, bleeding profusely from a wound that cuts him straight through and makes her own scars ache as she chases him through a verdant wood and tumbles down an endless hole. Dirk pours tea for thirty-five empty settings, flickering and pixelating, sometimes missing his head, sometimes missing his shades to reveal white eyes. Roxy flits in and out of the corners of her vision, the pink of her own eyes brilliant and startling as a striped cat's tail brushes Jane's cheeks and she apologizes again and again, she didn't know, she had to go, John would fix everything Janey, they had to leave-

And then the dream shifts. Jane takes a step, and she's on the transporter of the space station, in the cafeteria. A chill overcomes her bones and blood until she realizes that no, she's not back there - they hadn't left Seth's horrid paintings up, after all. Chitanda's, Toby's, and the Griffin's mutilated portraits have been joined by the rest, for all the paintings, even the ones of the people she knows are alive, have been marked in some way. Xander's is slashed with red. The Doctor's is smeared with gold. Her own sports a tiara of cuts and blood left to drip down her face...she heaves a sob and falls to her knees.]

What is this...what is this...

[It has to be a dream. So why...why can't she wake up?]
cyan_maid: Jane switching her spookind to forkkind and back again (My trusty weapon!)
[personal profile] cyan_maid
Feel like threading something out with Jane? Homestuck's canon, AUs, taking place within a game she's had CR with one of your characters with, meme-type prompts, text conversations, or otherwise? Come at me, bros!

Just warn for anything like gore, smut, etc. in the title of your toplevel and let's get down to business!
rosehecate: (Watering the roses)
[personal profile] rosehecate
Who: Anthy and Seymour
Where: Victory Road - the National Park
When: Daytime
Rated: PG 13 for Seymour having killed a man and Anthy being...Anthy
What: Blank needs to test drive someone!

[The National Park was even more lovely than Anthy had hoped. The winter seemed to have melted away from this place, even if it was just for an unusually warm day, and shy buds were attempting to peek out of tender, green shoots. Anthy walks among them as easily as she breathes, pausing often to take a look at the plants trying so hard to bloom, and shaking her head when she finally moves on to the next.]

Go back to sleep, little plants. It's not time to wake up yet.

[She mutters this a lot, the occasional rustling of a Pokemon in the bushes and grass not a bother to her as she checks leaves and stems with a critical eye. Hmmm. Well tended, this park...that's good. Better than she'd hoped for.

Of course, she thinks she's alone in this quiet part of the park, but that is always subject to change. Who might she meet around the bend of a path, under a tree? Let's see...]
agent3: (Agent 3 reporting for duty)
[personal profile] agent3
Who: Thida and Thaum
Where: The Octarian Kettles
When: After Cap'n Cuttlefish's kidnapping, but before the final boss in Splatoon's 1st player campaign
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: PG 13 for violence and themes of racism
What: He's a mimic octopus. She's the secret agent infiltrating his home to dismantle a rebellion. This was never going to end well.

[There had been a touch of coldness to Thida's movements in the kettles after the Cap'n got taken. Instead of the dizzying heights of the platforms making her sick to her stomach, she only pushed herself to jump further, fly higher, aim sharper at the next ledge. Instead of walking into enemy sight on accident, she hid and waited and watched until she could secure a path of attack. It was never in her to wait with a shooter, preferring to make intuitive judgments with a brush instead, but she had taught herself. She had learned. Not just for every Zapfish she saved, but now for the Cap'n too - the only adult in this entire city who cared a lick about the loner squid with nothing to her name, who supported herself on Turf War earnings and couldn't follow a trend to save her life, let alone make a proper friend.

But...was that entirely true? Thaum, she supposed sometimes on the surface, was a peculiar kind of friend. They weren't very kind to each other, often butting heads in battle and in the plaza, but they had always seemed to come together, and through that they had come to know each other. And...he was an Octoling. That made it all the more difficult, it really did, which was why she didn't think of him while in the kettles. She had to think of the Cap'n, well past his prime and her dear mentor. She had to think of the Octoweapons she'd fought before, and the terror and destruction they would bring to the surface if she couldn't stop them. For everything else's sake, she just couldn't think of Thaum.

But perhaps she really should.]
luce_felice: (Default)
[personal profile] luce_felice

Welcome to the Taur AU Meme! Here, you can play your characters in an AU where they have been born and lived as taurs - half human top, half animal bottom beings! Whether you stick to traditional centaurs or mix it up with some unusual or exotic species is totally up to you - so long as it's a taur, anything goes! Feel free to play with the setting, too; if you want your tags in a desert location, a forest, a mountain, anywhere, go for it!

If you wish to play out NSFW material such as sex or intensely gory violence, kindly have it fade to black and take it to a locked post please. Otherwise, go nuts and have fun!


1: Ah, the watering hole! The perfect place to congregate with fellow taurs of all species. Maybe you're just here for a drink, or to fetch water to bring home. Maybe you're here for gossip or to size up anybody new who's moved to the area, or you're new to the area and you're looking to size up your neighbors - or maybe you just want to be that obnoxious asshole and try bathing while everyone else is having a drink!

2: Uh-oh, a storm's blown in! Rain, snow, hail - whichever you choose, it's bad, and you're going to have to find some cover before the elements push you to the brink. But wherever you decide to shelter, it's likely you're not the only one who's picked that spot. Can you share the space, or will you fight to see who gets to stay and who has to leave?

3: There's a sense of something wrong in the air. It comes as a whiff of smoke, a tremor in the ground, but there's trouble coming either way, and you need to get out of dodge fast! Will you leave your fellow taurs behind, or warn them if you find them? Maybe they're caught up in the trouble and you're the only one around who can help! Or maybe you're the one in trouble...

4: MAN...they may resemble you from the waist up, but they don't see any sort of personhood in taurs. Perhaps you heard the far-off pop of a gunshot or the chop-chop-chop of an axe against a tree trunk - or you've tangled with some and managed to escape with your life. Either way, they won't hesitate to hang your pelt above their mantles, so either keep away from them or lay low as you lick your wounds. Just don't stay alone either way, there's strength in numbers.

5: WILDCARD! Feel free to come up with your own situations, silly or serious or simply fluffy.
better2do: icon by me, in-game art (don't you have anything better to do?)
[personal profile] better2do
Who: Asriel and Chara
Where: The Jackabee Lounge
When: A rainy afternoon
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: PG

[It's raining outside today.

The lounge place is nice, Asriel supposes - the fact that he can look out a window and see the rain at all, the fact that he can be himself for as long as he is here, that endears the lounge to him. But it's a little bit of a downer to know that you could be playing outside if it weren't for the steady drumming of rain.

He's doing his best to make peace with it, though. There's apple cider with no spiders in it and there's cinnamon butterscotch cookies (who thought to make those two things into a cookie? a genius that's who) and a big book of blank paper for him to draw and color, and crayons, super nice and not-waterlogged crayons.

Yes. He's coloring. The nigh-immortal, long deceased prince of all monsters just wants to eat sweets and color with his remaining time in his own body.

Shut up, this is totally the life.]
noirin: (Doth thou take me for a fool?)
[personal profile] noirin
Who: Noirin Oconaill and Ethan Glass
Where: The Jackabee Lounge
When: Afternoon
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: PG I guess...?
What: OC Shenanigans

[It could be said quite plainly that this lounge was one of the strangest places Noirin had ever seen. Although it looked incredibly innocuous, the fact that it always had so many different people flitting in and out intrigued her, and today she decided she would observe it. How, you may ask?

Why, by being in it, of course.

Noirin has set herself up on one of the couches, a few books stacked by her side. She's reading one of them somewhat, the title obscured by decades of weathered age, though it seems like it doesn't really have her attention, because she often pauses to look up, sighing and resting her chin on her hand. On the table beside her is a plate of shortbread cookies sliced into neat little squares, and a note in clean, exacting penmanship, reads:]

Please Partake.
- N. Oconaill
luce_felice: (Default)
[personal profile] luce_felice
[Does your character have a skill, talent, or power that they're just itching to show off to others? Why not do it here? The Jackabee Lounge has plenty of space for people to strut their stuff! You can:

- Show the extent of your skill, talent, or power to the crowds! And, if the curious happen to ask, feel free to tell them about it!

- Face off against someone who's got a similar talent to you! Who's the best of the best? Prove it here!

- Test your limits in the face of skeptics!

- Collaborate with others to make your talents shine

This and more is welcome!]
cyan_maid: (Sly Sweetheart)
[personal profile] cyan_maid
Where: The Jackabee Lounge
When: Nighttime
Rated: PG (if going beyond please take it to another post)
What: A little intro party for the opening of a new musebox! Please feel free to break the 4th wall!

[Good evening guests! As luck would have it, you seem to have been invited to a place called "The Jackabee Lounge" for the night, with promise of food, fun, and friends in a mix of unforgettable experiences!

Though, there's no guarantee you'll remember those experiences once you leave, or if you'll have any at all! It is, of course, up to you whether your time here is enjoyable or not. Nevertheless, the lounge is clean and airy, and things don't so much as appear out of nowhere as they do show up right in front of you, as if they've always been there, you just didn't notice them.

Well? What are you waiting for? The night is what you make it!]
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