OPEN RP POST DEUX

[formidable]

This a post where I'll RP anything with you and that means ANYTHING. Except smut because I suck at that Got a scenario in mind? I'LL DO IT. Here's some prompts below to help get things moving along if you don't have an idea to play out. The prompts are just prompts, if you have something specific, just let me know either at sweethymns or my AIM (rainsweets). Have at it! ➢ 01. AMUSEMENT PARK: Disneyland? Knotts Berry Farm? Six Flags? A made up amusement park with knockoff characters? Who cares, let's just ride that roller coaster or that giant swing ride! ➤ 02. PARK: Benches, trees, grass, maybe a lake and a basketball or volleyball court. ➢ 03. SNOWY DAY: Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful... or the level of snowfall can be any you wish! Light or heavy, there's going to be some winter related activities somewhere. ➤ 04. DINER: I love food, I really, really, really love food. And so do muses if they like to eat too! This diner seems to have a very HUGE menu with a large variety of dishes! Let's bond over food stuffs! ➢ 05. SICK DAY: Either your muse or my muse is sick. Who's taking care of who? ➤ 06. SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN: Our characters are stuck in a closet and can't get out until there is some kissing, so they better make good use of those seven minutes... DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. ➢ 07. SCHOOL: High school never ends! Or any type of schooling really. So whether it's in class or in the gym, let's try to endure mandatory education! ➤ 08. SURVIVAL HORROR: That old mansion/creepy town/underground science lab/zombie infested city ain't going to be survived by itself. Grab your medicinal herbs and shotguns, let's survive the horror. ➢ 09. WILDCARD: Let's make up shit.

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The corners of his mouth turn down in a mockery of false modesty. ] Nah, not trying to dazzle anyone. I mean, if people are dazzled, I can't help that. It's not like I wanna brag--

[ At her question, he unconsciously touches the Sony Walkman hooked to his belt, almost like he's checking to see if it's still there. ] Last time I was there was 1988. Twenty-something years ago, by my standards.

[bearwitness]

[And here she was thinking that saving the world from the impending Apocalypse was a hard job.

Abbie notices the Walkman (man she hasn't seen those in forever) and when she hears how many years he's been away, there's a thoughtful look in her eyes and her voice softens.]

That's a long time away from home, Quill.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The change in her tone startles him more than the creaking from earlier, and he quickly slips into an easy smile. ]

Well, you know. I've been busy living the life of an outlaw with a heart of gold. Haven't found the time to head back.

But-- hey, everything's been good, right?

[bearwitness]

I'd think a savior of the galaxy would get at least a free pass to any place he chooses to go.

[Ew, space spider webs. She takes a second to brush her fingers through her hair to take out the mess.]

As for good... I'm gonna and say it's a subjective thing. There's a lot more people around the globe. But you know, more people, more problems; it's always gonna be a constant. But yeah, everything's mostly peaceful.

[She thinks it's wiser to not mention the Biblical apocalypse thing that's too complicated (and weird even for space)]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He just smiles at that -- he's thought about going back, but he always changes his mind at the last second. ]

Hey, that's cool. Nice to hear good ol' Earth hasn't been threatened by, like, alien invasions or zombie apocalypses while I've been--

[ There's a muffled crash somewhere in the house, and Peter freezes in his tracks. ]

... That, uh. That didn't sound good.

[bearwitness]

[He can say that again. She shines her flashlight in the direction of the crash.]

... Quill, be real with me here. After you finish this gig, you CAN guarantee a safe trip back for me right?

[Get her out of this space hellhole! Even if Peter's actually not all that bad and kinda fun to be with]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He's pulling out his trusty gun -- and if he's honest, it's more of a security-blanket-type-thing, than an actual belief that they're in any danger. With his other hand, he raises three fingers in a sort of Boy Scout salute, using his pinky and thumb to keep a grip on his flashlight. ]

Scout's honor, Lieutenant. You gimme a hand with getting the datacube, and I'll get ya back to Earth with your share of the profits.

[ Spurred on by this new sense of responsibility, he takes the lead again, gun at the ready. But he pauses, turning back to her slightly. ]

Just be ready to, like, run like hell, yeah?

[bearwitness]

Well, I can run, but...

[She motions to his weapon.]

Got an extra? "Lieutenant" isn't just for decoration you know.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ There's a veeeeery brief pause before he hands her his gun, and his expression is just the slightest bit pained. All the same, he pulls his spare from the extra holster on his left side and keeps pressing forward. ]

Be careful with that. It's kinda my baby.

[bearwitness]

[Taking said gun and examining it.]

Oh, c'mon. But if it makes you feel better, I'll try not to overwork her.

[nostalgiabomb]

All I ask.

[ He's interrupted again by the sound of movement -- heavy, thudding footsteps from above them, and further down the hall, Peter thinks he hears the rustling of cloth. There's a slamming somewhere in the house -- a door, maybe?

They had been talking at a normal, conversational volume before, but Peter can't help but drop his voice to a hissing whisper. ]

Any ideas on what the hell is going on, Haunted House expert?

[bearwitness]

[She whispers back, but not as intensely since she's trying to keep her cool.]

Whatever's thumping around here, it's just trying to spook us. Don't let it get to you.

Well, at least until it literally gets to us.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He’ll just be staring at her for a second, then, ] Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel all that much better.

[ Unlike Abbie, Peter was totally at home with space. Aliens? He could handle them (in more ways than one, ha ha!). Spaceships? Put him behind the controls, and he’ll maneuver the clunkiest vessel through tight spaces like thread through a needle. Laser blasters, translator chips, even freaky, ancient, all-powerful Infinity Stones he could get behind.

Poltergeists, though, and things that go bump in the night? That’s where he had drawn the line. Too bad their current situation had him toeing right up against it. ]

… We can shoot ghosts, right? I mean, not that I'm saying that this is for sure ghosts, 'cause it's probably not, but hypothetically -- it’ll actually do something to them, right?

[bearwitness]

It's not supposed to.

[Abbie is what one would call a "tough as nails" cop. She's had a rough upbringing and she knows the ropes of how law enforcement is supposed to work. And now that she's balls deep into the supernatural, well, let's just say she's still got her work cut out for her.

Being in space is more or less her being more out of the loop than usual.]

And no, guns don't work on ghosts so don't try it. Let's just keep moving alright?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He pulls a face, but his tone is light. ] Keep moving, she says, as if all these weird noises and stuff are completely normal in an abandoned house.

Hey, since when did cops start getting Ghostbusters training, anyway? Does that come standard in police academy now, or…?

[bearwitness]

[Anyways, she's moving on ahead, but she glances back at him, lips pursed together.]

Funny story about that actually. I'm kind of the only one really dealing with spooks.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He's content to let her take the lead. The strange noises have stopped for now, but he's still gripping his gun, trigger finger itching for something to shoot at. The quiet bothers him -- so naturally, he seeks to fill it. ]

Special assignment, huh? Or is it like a punishment, like having to direct traffic?

[bearwitness]

... You know what, I didn't think of it like that. Comparing it to directing traffic, I mean. Pretty damn accurate in a way.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ That gets a snort out of him -- yes, normal conversations. Let's have them. ] Sooo, not a huge fan of the job, then?

[bearwitness]

You can say that it was sprung on me out of nowhere. Trust me, I wasn't ready for-

[And suddenly when she takes a step forward, the floor in front of her appears to give and she falls down, yelling in surprise.

Whoops!!! But when she disappears, said floor seems to have repaired itself again? Yup, this is a spooky as hell space mansion.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Oh what the ever loving hell-- ]

Mills!

[ As she falls, he quickly holsters his gun and lunges for her, arm outstretched to grab her hand--

And then she's gone, and he stumbles when the floor turns back to normal, and what in the fuck.

He kneels, panicked, and feels along the floor with his free hand -- some kind of alien wood, maybe, but despite the poor condition it's in, it's solid to the touch.

For good measure, he slams a fist against it. Nope. ]

Shit, shit, shit-- Mills-- Abbie! Can you hear me? Are you okay?

[bearwitness]

Son of a-...!!

[She's landed on her back and wherever she is, it's really, really, dark. Abbie sits up flinching from the impact, but is able to gather her bearings and turn on her flashlight again. The room appears to be some sort of... ballroom? Wait, how does that work? Before she can try to contemplate the logic of the architecture, she hears Peter's voice.]

Quill? Yeah, I can hear you! [She looks around. This area was too roomy for her liking.]

There's not much around, but I think I fell through a wormhole or something?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He feels a swell of relief when she responds, and he exhales sharply. ]

Not cool, Mills. If you hated my company that much, you coulda' just said so.

[ Peter stands again, and takes a cautious step over the floor -- and it flickers this time, surprisingly, but it's abrupt, and the ground is quickly solid again. ]

Probably a busted teleporter. Big house like this, they probably wanted to get from Point A to Point B--

[ Naturally, his conjecture is interrupted when the floor finally disappears from beneath him, and he lands on the ground gracelessly. ]

-- faster. Ow.

[bearwitness]

[She calls back, this time a little more sarcastic in tone.]

You're not that good at flirting, but I'm trusting you with-...

[And then he falls through and down to the ground. She points her flashlight at him raising a brow.]

... I was gonna say I was trusting you with my life out here in space.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Once he's recovered, he shoots her a hurt look. So hurt. We're talking kicked puppy-levels of pitiful here. ]

But I'm great at flirting.