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]

[ He spares half a second to let out a frustrated "aaauuugh," but he knows there aren't many options, and soon he's racing full tilt at the worm.

-- and for a moment, Peter can't quite tamp down the unsettling feeling that he might just be bait, because it wouldn't be the first time someone's tried "use the tasty Terran as a distraction" with him --

But the feeling is gone when Peter is forced to duck and slide to avoid having his head taken off by the worm's tail. He stops just short of the wall and rises on a knee to aim his gun at the creature. ]

Clear!

[bearwitness]

Coming, coming!!

[Abbie's small and fast so she's sprinting towards the wall. The worm is close behind, almost TOO close, but another quick idea flashes through her head. As she runs, she zig zags, trying to make it dizzy. It seems to work and she has to dodge roll in order for the worm's jaws not to collide with her into another wall.

The lieutenant finally makes it over to Quill breathing hard.]

You ready?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The giant worm is getting its bearings, and with a surprising amount of agility it's swept back around and spotted them at the wall.

Then, it charges. ]

Oh, shit--

[ Peter holsters his gun and grabs Abbie by the elbow. He flings himself bodily through the magic portal or teleporter or whatever-the-fuck-it-actually-is, and he hopes against hope that he's not slamming himself into a wall, because that'd be embarrassing as hell.

Luckily, it lets them through into what appears to be a library.

He's out of breath when he asks, ] We good? Any limbs missing?

[bearwitness]

[She's still panting a little, trying to relax herself now that they're out of immediate danger. Looking up at him, she nods.]

Still alive. Not dead. All in all, doing good.

[Abbie puts her hands on her knees and straightens up, looking at their new surroundings.]

A library?? Looks like a place they'd put a datacube, or whatever kind of information in here.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter catches his breath as well, and he absently runs his hand through his hair as he takes a second to get his bearings. ]

Yeah, hopefully, 'less they hid it in their mattresses or something. You any good at the Dewey Decimal System?

[bearwitness]

[She shrugs.]

Not an expert, but I can get by. [It's a little relevant to investigations after all.]

[nostalgiabomb]

Good, ‘cause that’s definitely where my considerably impressive expertise ends.

[ The library is dark by design, it seems, with lamps being few and far between. Like the rest of the house, it’s clear that this place used to an amazing sight to behold, dark walls and wooden floors screaming wealth. Now it’s just a dump.

Peter’s flashlight (which he somehow managed to keep hold of during all the excitement) picks out some toppled shelves and the dead data tablets and destroyed cubes that litter the floor. It smells of mildew and damp paper – and that’s a novelty, smelling paper. He isn’t quite up to snuff on his galactic history, but he’s gleaned enough over two decades to know that paper anything went out of fashion centuries ago, in favor of digital records.

Absently, Peter takes a second to touch the wall behind them – solid again, and definitely wall-like. No surprise portals leading to rooms housing dangerous worm-beasts here. ]

Also, I want the record to show that you, Lieutenant Mills, are certifiably insane.

[bearwitness]

[She scoffs at Peter as she picks up an old and slightly moldy book, examining it out of mild interest.]

Excuse you. You're speaking to an officer of the law here.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ In response, he puffs up his chest and looks awfully smug when he says, ] Yeah? Well I’m a Guardian of the Galaxy. [ and somehow, he manages to even pronounce the capitalizations. ]

[bearwitness]

[In response, she gives a playful shove against his chest, as if trying to deflate him.]

Settle down, hero.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Deflate him she does, because he was hoping that line would’ve been seriously impressive – that delivery was awesome. And in the face of her indifference, he glowers. ]

Seriously? Not even a little bit of a swoon? I am really off my game tonight.

[bearwitness]

If I was so easily swayed, I don't think I'd be a police lieutenant. There isn't gonna be any swooning today.

Or ever.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Her words earn her another pout from Peter, but it’s overblown and clearly a fake one.

He opens his mouth to retort, but hey, remember that crashing sound from earlier? It seems they must’ve found the source, because somewhere in the room, one of the shelves has toppled over. There’s the customary clatter of its cargo being sent tumbling and cracking and breaking, the crash of the shelf hitting the ground, and Peter swears at the tail end of all of that, he hears something breathing.

On instinct, he dampens the light of his flashlight with his fingers, casting Abbie a wary glance that says, “We seriously can’t catch a break right now.” ]

[bearwitness]

[The noise of the crash startles her and she backs away, but her borrowed gun is out and she dims her flashlight.Abbie whispers to him:]

We gonna check that out or not?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His element gun is in his hand again, and he powers up his mask, the metal materializing over his face with a glittering blue flicker. Peter stashes his flashlight in his pocket, deciding to utilize the tech in his helmet for night vision. As he moves forward toward the noise, he drops his voice to a whisper as well. ]

After this, you and I are finding the dingiest, quietest bar and thinking long and hard about the life decisions that brought us up to this point.

[bearwitness]

As long as you're buying, a drink after all this sounds good to me.

[She gestures in front of them.]

Please, gentlemen first.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Grudgingly, Peter moves forward, mumbling something good-naturedly about the lack of gender equality.

For all his babbling and ridiculousness and puppy-dog-eyes, Peter seems in his element here, with adrenaline pumping and gun at the ready. He’s disciplined about checking corners, and every so often he spares a glance back to check that Abbie hasn’t fallen through anymore disappearing floors. He’s still not used to having more than his trusty Walkman for company.

Peter sees the yellowish-green glow a shelf or two away, and he redirects them in that direction. Soon the two of them stumble upon what appears to be the only working data cube in the entire library, encased in a force field on a podium. He moves to it, crouching a little to get a better look at the field. ]

Finally. Jesus, I thought we were gonna have to leave here empty-handed.

[bearwitness]

We actually struck gold? Good!

[She is looking at the cube, fascinate.]

Can't believe we're going through all this trouble for a glorified dice piece.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter shoots her a distracted smirk. ] Correction: We’re going through all this trouble for a million credits. Well, five hundred thousand each.

[ He’s examining the cube, the podium, and crouching to the floor to inspect the area immediately around it. Once he’s satisfied that there aren’t any traps, he rolls up the sleeve of his coat and slowly presses a hand into the force field; the action should’ve set off alarms, but the security system had been dead for a long time now. The field feels cold, slimy, and almost viscous against his skin, and it reminds him of being a kid in science class, when they did experiments with cornstarch mixed with water.

He can’t help cringing a little.

Soon, Peter plucks the datacube out and gives it a shake – and it really is as big as six-sided die – before he tosses it to Abbie with an easy grin. ]

Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. Time to live a life of modest luxury, Lieutenant.

[bearwitness]

That reminds me, do credits actually translate into North American dollars?? Heck, what would the exchange rate even be?

[Abbie mostly steps back, giving Quill room to do his work. After he plucks the cube from it's force field, she lets out a sigh of relief.]

And that would be the first good thing that's actually happened today.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He looks thoughtful about that. ] You know, I have no idea. Maybe I can wrangle a merchant up, see if they can exchange it into cash for you. I'm sure someone must be doing some blackmarket trading on Terra.

[ So hey, that breathing noise is back -- deep, rattling inhales and exhales -- accompanied by the sound of slithering. Peter turns and looks up, and something like this creature hangs from the ceiling some distance away, its many tentacles wandering along the floor. ]

Oh. Crap.

[ -- Peter says, then a tentacle wraps securely around his legs up to his waist, and he's pulled off his feet to be dragged along the ground. ]

[bearwitness]

[SHE NEVER ASKED FOR THIS. Abbie does not want to DEAL with any of this!! But if she doesn't, Peter's gonna be horror terror chow and that means she loses her free ride back to Earth.]

QUILL!! DUCK!!

[Abbie acts quickly and points her gun at the tentacle that's captured Star-Lord. She shoots once: Missed! She swears, but shoots again, this time successful in blasting said tentacle.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The monster is dragging him toward its mouth fast, and Peter has a second to think, That is way too many goddamn teeth, before he realizes what's happening. He tries to pull his legs free or at least set off his rocket boots to shoot himself away, but the grip is too tight and of course the trigger is covered by the creature's grip. In his mind is a running tirade of I'm gonna get fucking eaten, this is it, this is how I die, this fucking sucks, goodbye world, so he nearly misses when Abbie shouts for him. He looks back at her, and he has just enough time to cover his head with his arms when she fires.

When she hits her mark, the creature bellows and loosens its grip, giving Peter just enough space to trigger the mechanism for his jet boots, and he shoots away, back toward Abbie. His helmet and shoulders takes the brunt of the hit when he slams into the podium, but he's immediately back on his feet -- a tad unsteady, but it'll have to do. ]

Ooookay, time to go!

[bearwitness]

[You know what, no time for snarking, she's taking heed of his words and RUNNING.

Oh god, why is that shelf falling over WHY IS THAT OTHER BOOKSHELF FALLING OVER. Luckily, it barely misses the two, but this makes running from the alien monster harder than it should be!]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter runs alongside her, and he has breath enough to choke out, ] This-- fucking-- sucks.

[ Luckily there are a set of double doors dead ahead of them -- they're nearly out scot-free. ]