Voice Test: no spoilers

[finefuckery]

[ There is a man in your bedroom! Or your kitchen, or just somewhere that is yours really. He is dressed head to toe in highly functional black leather, and has an incredible greying mane. He smells like sweat and the sea, and inexplicably of... lavender?

And he's touching things. He's touching everything. Just casually picking up trinkets and turning them over in his hands. ]

Now this? This is neat. This is cool. What do you call this?

Comments

[whatsaslayer]

[ He's picked up the spare chargepack for the stun gun she has in her hand and is pointing at his face. ]

I call it mine.

[ Her whole flat is furnished with scavenged garbage and there is a big hole in the thick concrete-reinforced brick wall. ]

Give.

[finefuckery]

Yeah, but yer what?

[ Is that a weapon? That looks like a weapon. Hmm. ]

... oooh now what's that.

[whatsaslayer]

[ She shoots him in the face with it. It goes CCTZZOW. Also it knocks him off his feet and throws him back several meters. And he won't be able to see for a minute. And it hurts like fuck. She didn't give him the whole charge, though. She doesn't want to knock him out, because then she'd have to carry him to get him out of her apartment. ]

A gun.

[finefuckery]

[ WELL SHIT HE IS VERY TASED after a moment of rolling and groaning he sits up with a laugh. ]

A gun!? A gun???

[derailer]

[This is a relatively expansive, permanent tent residence, but it's still a one-room tent. The trinkets are stacked on tight shelves. Ingo blinks at the stranger. He probably has some reason for visiting?? No need to be inhospitable.]

Ah, that would be a smoke bomb! They are quite handy while traversing down a dangerous track. You may feel free to it.

[finefuckery]

A smoke bomb? Reckon that's a bomb for smoke, innit?

[ but happily pockets it ]

[derailer]

It is a tool that provides a smoke cover to conceal your passage. Simply throw it on the ground to activate it. Does that resolve any confusion?

[finefuckery]

Cleared it right up!

[1bit]

[This is fine. Totes okay. Not even the first anachronistic appearance of some dude inside his house. Ash is handling the situation as calmly and carefully as he's reaching for the switchblade he keeps taped underneath his study desk.]

Uh. S'my bong.

[finefuckery]

[ inspects it a moment ]

Looks like a water pipe for idiots.

[1bit]

Same thing. Don't drop it. That carpet can't take another stain and my mother might actually kill me.

[With just a whisper-soft tearing of duct tape, the switchblade drops into his palm. He pulls his hand back into the sleeves of his oversized hoodie and keeps COOL. COLLECTED. Ignore those beads of sweat collecting along his shaved hair line.]

[finefuckery]

[ Blackbeard just levels him a look. Are we going to do this, Sport? ]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It’s a kitchen in a REALLY sad little flat; he’s found the electric kettle.

This extremely pale fellow practically materialises behind Blackbeard. ]

Wh - what the hell are you doing here? Put that down!

[finefuckery]

[ !! ]

Oof! Well aren't you a sneaky little fucker.

[ he does not put it down, but rather puts it under one arm and goes back to rummaging. ]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin makes an indignant noise and tries to grab at it.

There’s a baking tray with fresh scones laid out, cooling nicely, as well as an assortment of basic cooking implements. A mixer. Flour. Lemons. Cooking knives. Rain drums on the window looking out on the London street. ]

You’re the sneaky one—! How did you get in here?

[finefuckery]

[ inspecting the knives, but decides they all suck ]

Weird door.

[pompadored]

[why is this man in my living room



ignoring him for a moment]

MOOOOMMMMMMM DID YOU INVITE SOMEONE OVER? MOOOOOMMMM?

[no answer

okay

okay

turning to the guy]

That's a Super Nintendo. Hey, where is my mom?

[finefuckery]

The fuck would I know where your mum is?

[pompadored]

You're in her house.

She didn't let you in?

[nocawsforconcern]

[Blackbeard finds himself in what is probably familiar- The captain's cabin in a galleon at sea, rocking gently over calm waves as the ship makes its way to its next port. The room is even filled with a wide variety of trinkets and knicknacks- Gold coin and gems of such size and brilliance that his fine-tuned pirate senses would immediately identify them as priceless... and mixed in with them, little glass beads or baubles that have absolutely no value. The owner of this cabin, though, seems to think equally highly of all of them, put up for display on shelves as they all are.

Also, the cabin's owner, a young woman whose outfit can best be described as a cloak over a swimsuit, is now pointing a knife at him. A knife he'd be able to identify as a rigging knife for ropes, rather than a proper weapon, but when you get down to it, a knife is a knife.]

That's a coin from Eridanus. When seas get rough, you throw those overboard so the ghosts of drowned sailors get distracted.

Who are you and how'd you stow away on my ship?

[finefuckery]

[ Truth be told he has no idea how he got on this ship. But, y'know, at least today isn't boring. ]

I'm a pirate and... I'm a pirate.

[nocawsforconcern]

That's not an answer. Put my treasure down. Even if you are a pirate I don't wanna throw you overboard if I don't have to.

[verdantguardian]

[congrats and welcome to a little hut in the forest. it's entirely functional, so be careful with that steel trap.

this man is a solid 6'3, standing in his own doorway, and looks SO EXHAUSTED by all this. he also has a little ferret-like creature perched on his shoulder squeaking in apparent affront.]

Put that down.

[finefuckery]

Yeah but what is it?

[verdantguardian]

A trap. Down.