[OOC: Emma is a cocker spaniel. There's really nothing more to it.]
[Something smooth and bristly and... incredibly manly.]
[Ladies and gentlemen, Ocelot has grown a mustache. A short blond one, neatly trimmed above his upper-lip. But that's not all; his hair has grown out a few inches, and his beret is nowhere to be seen (so that he may show off the new hairdo).]
[If someone inspects his face, they may also notice a tiny bandage on his jaw. Evidence of unpracticed shaving. The mustache is there, but there's nothing left of blond beard-stubble that also had been sprouting. Despite that little flaw, Ocelot appears to be even more pleased with his appearance than usual (and he was already pretty damn pleased before). He's found himself a reflective enough window in one of the halls, and is admiring himself in it, smoothing the ends of the 'stache and tilting his head in various saucy poses.]
[...But this is not something that had been happening gradually over time, as is natural. Ocelot found an effect somewhere in the nexus that grew hair, and once he shaved a bit he was not at all dissatisfied with the results. He did not look like this a few hours ago.]
[But will he share that secret effect he found? Prrrrrobably not.]
[...and ginger root.]
[Oh, he was in heaven! Unfortunately, anybody who walked in at any given moment might not be, considering they'd bee greeted with the sight of him trying on a rather revealing pair leather pants. Or maybe it's that gag, or those handcuffs, or those spiky heeled boots. Either way, he was running his own miniature fashion show in one of the all-angle mirrors.]
Hehe... [Volgin would love to see him in some of these--hell, he'd love to see himself in some of these. Maybe later he'd draw some of these outfits; he was such an inspiration to himself!]
[Except for one little thing.]
[David's home/fort/cinema has been invaded by Snakes and as the one who knows how to work the projector, he has been "convinced" to play some requests. It's not that the movies are boring, far from it, but the young pre-Snake simply finds himself disgruntled that he has to share his theater.]
[[It's Wednesday: post some
- Current Mood: annoyed
[At a glance, he looks to be pretty normal. He shouldn't even seem depressed, really. A better word to describe him is probably "subdued." Something... something is different, something is missing.]
[Go ahead and talk to him. See for yourself.]
((Due to a room effect, Kaz has accidentally his whole overactive libido for three days! This post is NOT getting locked, so help me. :I /shakes fist))
[That is, until he found it himself.]
[The mother lode of boxes.]
[Piles of boxes. A mountain of boxes. More cardboard than he had ever seen in his life. Every stolen box, hundreds of them, all squirreled away in the massive vehicle hangar of Shadow Moses, easily accessible from the hallways.]
[...Well, and guarded by a giant mucus-spewing dinosaur with a laser. But not even that was about to get between Big Boss and that rich deposit of cardboard. A little stealth and an arsenal of weapons, and the dinosaur retreated to a different side of the base, leaving two hundred pounds of tail behind, sawed off by a burst of machine gun fire.]
[Now Big Boss is cooking a large slab of dinosaur tail steak over a fire (started by Alaskan pine wood, not cardboard!) and enjoying the comfort of being surrounded by stacks of precious boxes. He has found himself a very, very happy place.]
((Feel free to bother! Big Boss is in the Shadow Moses hangar, which can be accessed through a door from the nexus hallway. He probably left the door open or something.))
[[OOC: Event! Fairy Tale Ending Room. You are either the princess or the prince, and you can be any princess/prince from any fairy tale you care to draw up from the brothers Grimm or anywhere else in the world. Depending on what princess or prince you choose to be, your character will befall the same fate as your chosen royalty before they were rescued. Appropriate costumes entirely optional, but strongly recommended for full effect.
Have fun. Get creative. Let True Love's Kiss run rampant!
EDIT: Locked because Liquid and Talib are just... Damn.]]
After all, it's not a proper New Years celebration unless someone is losing sleep over it.
The moment you step inside this room, one of two things will happen.
a) you're getting married! It should be the happiest day of your life, except... why the fuck are you getting married?
b) you've been married a long time and you just now realised it! Out of nowhere the knowledge appears in your head. You are married to INSERT NAME HERE. You live at INSERT ROOM NUMBER HERE. Whether they know it or not...
Let the chaos begin!
...there will be cake for all the
[When you closed in, the cause of stress was more obvious: a curvy frame, pouty lips, and oh--boobs. Not very impress boobs, but they were boobs nonetheless. It looks like Ivan stumbled into the sex change room for the first time. He's lucky it took this long. Or unlucky, really, who knows.]
((idk make fun of him))
[one door opened to a studio with hundreds of glasses of water on the floor. Another went to what appeared to be a crowded bar with televisions blaring a football game. The one that made him glad of his decision to stand far back was the one with the live bear.]
[He's about to resign himself to living with washcloths past their prime when he opens a door and stares in wonderment.]
[The entire room is full of Gundam.]
[Shelves and shelves of models on walls covered in posters and wallscrolls. Racks of DVDs of every episode of every series. Zeta, Turn A, 08th MS Team, everything.]
[Otacon gapes in awe. A sudden, irrepressible inspiration fills him. It's mad, but he must do it, just to see if a human being is capable.]
[He is going to start from the beginning and watch all of them.]
((The door is open. Come on in if you want to join him, or just loot a 6 foot tall Zaku statue.))
Well, the mess was inevitable. Could anyone expect anything better from an eight year old kid? She may know how to cook but a cake is definitely something she needs supervision for. So there's a bunch of cake mix splattered everywhere, even on Sunny.
She doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered by it though and laughs it off.]
[ooc: I set Sunny's birthday for the thirteenth. So here's a birthday post for her?
EDIT: 1/8/2012 Sorry I'm late guys, it's been a busy couple of weeks.]
Besides, he wasn't particularly the type of man to just run up to others, shake their hand, and start a new friendship. He preferred to stay by himself most of the time... and that is what he had done during his absence.
But, for now, he decided he'd like a little "fresh air."]
It was perhaps the last place Fox had expected to find himself during his exploration of the nexus. In hindsight, that was probably foolish of him. But it was strange, to find FOXHOUND's HQ—no, merely a clever replica of it—just as he had left it some two, three years ago. The same, but also unusually empty, like a husk, like the shell of some dead thing.
He moved through the building silently and cautiously, more out of habit than necessity. There was nobody there to be wary of, though the lockers in the barracks were still full, and the equipment in the tech labs still running, and files were still sat open on Colonel Campbell's desk. It was as though it had been frozen in time. Big Boss's quarters were exactly as they had been after Operation Intrude N313. Nobody had wanted to touch their ex-CO's possessions, perhaps out of some lingering sense of respect— or fear. It was difficult to tell one from the other, sometimes.
His own quarters had at least been tidied from the state he had left them in. Broken furniture replaced. Scattered papers and flecks of ash cleared from the floor. All the damage he had done on the night of his defection, in his frustration and anger at finding himself backed into a corner, had been wiped away. Everything back as it should be. Almost everything.
He closed the door behind him, slid into the new chair behind his old desk. It felt at once familiar and strange, like a well-worn jacket which no longer fit quite right. The stash of cigars he had claimed from Big Boss's room had been tucked away neatly in one of the desk drawers. He turned the case over in his hands, smoothed a thumb over one worn edge. Why would anyone go to such trouble with the little details? Inconsequential things. What did they stand to gain? What was the point of all this?
Pocketing the cigar case, Fox rose to his feet. He would collect some supplies, and then head back to his current base. There was nothing else here for him. Hadn't been for years.
[Today is one young little Liquid's birthday. His eleventh(!) to be exact. That's right, this little pipsqueak is getting tall all of a sudden, and it's come to James' attention that reaching the cookies is mere child's play now.]
[It's time for a new goal.]
[An aspiring young man like him dreams big. Dreams of adventures, explosions, becoming the strongest soldier, piloting the most powerful darn mech the Nexus has ever seen.]
[But today is his birthday, and today, James is going to take his cake... and eat it! To this end, he is going around raiding all the unsuspecting kitchens with his good pal, Hal.]
We aren't taking any prisoners today, Hal! We're gonna retrieve all the cakes and bring home sweet glory!
((To avoid confusion, you can totally tag James by himself. He might outrun his friend at some point. >> Also, tags will be slow, you know the drill. But I didn't want to miss this kid's birthday again. ♥))
Moving as silently as he can, a Liquid prowls, trying to stay out of sight. He hides, he creeps, he uses a box, he even traverses via the rafters at some points.
Ever since the conflict with Big Boss a few months ago, his rage towards the man and all who share his face has simmered and writhed within him. Now, in an attempt to vent it, he makes a cold and callous calculating move.
Breaking into any rooms he cannot open, avoiding any known effect rooms he can find, Liquid retrieves every single cardboard box he can recover and stacks them in the hangar he gave to his beloved dinosaur. The piles are sky high and he knows the dinosaur will guard them. Or destroy them. Either way.
Nobody ever claimed Liquid Snake was not petty. Futile though it may be, a petty and niggling revenge. But revenge none-the-less.]
So come on by to the Maid Cafe!
[[OOC: I don't know if this has been done before, but I could not resist. Maid Cafe! Your character can either be an employee or a customer, and there are some pretty basic rules for both. A customer must be waited upon by at least one person and those who are designated employees must not only be dressed the part, but also wait on at least three people. There will be a counter above them for this to aid in the task.
Go forth. Have fun. Get frilly.]
The NPCs barge into every door, taking their fill of "Black Friday" deals. They barge into your rooms, into your bathrooms (while you're using them!); they're relentless. A locked door won't stop them, they'll ram their way in if it kills them.
So guard your stuff, barricade yourselves while you still can. If you're unfortunate enough to be roaming the halls when pocket change hit the fan, well...good luck to you. You can fight or you can hide, but whatever you do, you better do it fast.
((Open thread! Find a buddy and fight off NPCs with them. Or cower in a room, either way.))
[Kaz hasn't wandered the halls nor his usual haunts for five days. Those who he keeps in regular contact with haven't heard anything from him during this time. He didn't leave a note of any sort... he's simply vanished.]
[Little do they know, Kaz is stuck in a room that he can't get out of. He rests in a bed, weak from near starvation. There are only a few things he knows about this room: it's plain, the water in the pitcher replenishes itself for whatever reason, and he apparently needs someone else to get him out. There is no counter above his head and he wasted precious energy trying everything to leave.]
[He tries to pass the time sleeping now... his mind has become a dangerous place and any sort of physical reaction to his thoughts will damn him. He rolls onto his side as his stomach growls, his loose hair falling over the decent blond stubble he's grown.]
[Kaz realized at one point that the only power he truly has now is the power to off himself, but he doesn't do it. Even now, he knows that's not the way this is going to end.]
[His fingers idly rub the white bed sheet. His traitorous mind imagines it's Liquid's back instead.]
[All of you, surely. Or at least most of you. ...Some of you?]
[Well, today here he is, having stumbled upon a shooting range and deciding what the hell, why not? Might as well try some target practice with his (extensive) inventory of handguns, rifles, and automatic weapons.]
[Also he might just be lighting a cigarette when he's fairly sure there's no Otacon nearby to complain about it.]
[There was more to the stand than that though. Of course there was. Sitting there out of Ivan's reach were a water pistol, a jar of spiders, glue, glitter, make-up and a variety of other things. There was nothing around to supplement them with--well, except for Ivan. Another sticky-note addressed this issue, a coy little sentence that read: "Do as you wish in exchange for a kiss."]
God...damn it. Well I'm good looking...I shouldn't have any problem getting out of this.
[Ocelot sat on top of a mountain of fresh bananas, right in the center of one of the Nexus' halls.]
[Volgin stands on a hilltop, arms spread wide to take in the frigid landscape. He grins beneath his ushanka as his coat snaps in the icy wind.]
The winds have changed! Can you endure the elements in an all-out war for survival? This means one man left standing! This means our forces unleashed! This means...
So what was the occasion?
A birthday. But not just any birthday: a psychic's birthday.
Those who wander by the back of the bar, by the anachronistic jukebox spilling jazz tunes left and right, will see one of the youngest resident psychics dressed to the nines in a very dapper suit, staring at a cake. It's black forest, his favorite, and the icing on it spells out: Happy 24th Birthday! Wrapped up presents litter the floor, some big, some small, all addressed to the young man.
[[OOC: He's a whole year older~ *SO EXCITE* And what a snazzy party space, ne?]]
[Mantis could feel a surging increase in his abilities as he stepped into the room. Everybody's mind was crystal clear, an open book. Objects larger than he'd ever been able to move were easily toppled over. Possession no longer required the help of music...and hallucinations were no long restricted to the small scale of one person.
So what did he do with the power this room granted him? Why, he abused it. Anybody within range would suddenly find themselves immersed in a world of horribly vivid hallucinations. Walls closing in, grotesque monsters, bugs, bats and rats; the floors swallowing people like quicksand--the walls melting. Anybody's deepest and darkest fears crawled out of the doors lining the halls and went straight for their victims.
Of course none of it was real, but Mantis' victims didn't know that.]
((ooc: sorry I'm posting this so late! I was sick the last few days and couldn't bring myself to do much of anything. I hope you can still enjoy it~ Feel free to yank monster ideas from any videogames/movies/whatever you want!
Only floors 3-8 are affected so nobody is forced to participate, and you can escape.))
Naturally, Nexus loves it's holidays, and has graciously set up posters all along the halls with helpful little arrows pointing to party central. Follow them. Join the crowd.
[[OOC: It's a global holiday people! You can go to the party in costume, but if you decide not to, one will be provided free of charge. Apple cider, pumpkin cider, candy, cake, caramel everything. It's a rocking party in shades of black and orange.]
He was quiet enough to not wake her, instead climbing out of bed, rubbing his aching back. Had things changed at all? Did life go on here? Julie was still here... Looks like she hadn't changed rooms.
Slowly, he opened the door, exiting the room (despite only having a pair of pants on). ]
After a good several minutes of wandering around the room with a bit of vertigo, he found a mirror and realized he'd been swiftly turned into an extremely familiar Disney meerkat. But why was another reason all together.
Instead of standing around to figure it out, he flailed around in front of the mirror, a frantic attempt to disprove that was really him.
((The voice actor room! Your character turns into another character that their English VA played. It doesn't matter how brief they took the role, or if it was just a spin-off/re-dub.
Have fun, mingle, and try to post an image link for the character if you can.))
- Current Location:Café
- Current Mood: mellow
[In particular- he was right about murder; the feeling that you get after you've taken a life... And the fact that it gets a lot easier to stomach the more you do it. She wasn't entirely sure if that should've been considered a 'good' thing back then- but as a soldier that's steadily approaching her 5th year of real combat, she can now see that it is. -For those willing to sacrifice a bit of humanity for a life of killing, that is.]
[The smell of death no longer makes her sick. It's no longer a struggle to put a bullet in someone's flesh, or even to run a blade across someone's throat. She avoids doing so whenever possible, however. That 'compassion' in her eyes hasn't been entirely removed just yet. But she's been filled with a newfound confidence; a desire to push herself well past her own limits. Meryl can finally look herself in the mirror with relative pride.]
[Even now, despite being plucked off of the battlefield and into some unknown building, the woman just feels... excited. Perhaps her combat-high hasn't died down yet.]
[The woman wore a black tanktop beneath an open bullet-proof thermal vest as she walked along the hallways of The Nexus for a while. Blood runs down one of her toned, muscular arms as she also sports a relatively fresh bullet-wound in her shoulder, which she's apparently decided to ignore for the moment. It's been hours now since her arrival, and she's seen enough to know that this place isn't normal. However, she has stealthily avoided coming in contact with anyone thus far; instead choosing to observe her surroundings quietly.]
((OOC: circa 2010. Meryl is... around. But you wouldn't really know that until you've decided to walk down this particularly quiet hall. The only real clue that anyone may be nearby are a few small, inconspicuous drops of blood on the floor. Investigate if you wish.))
- Current Location:Somewhere
- Current Mood: rejuvenated
[And he found them.]
[Strung up throughout the first floor lobby are the bedsheets of everyone in the Nexus. Unfortunately, the Nexus has made some minor...alterations. The sheets have been personalized with the cartoon pattern of things that identify who they may belong to.]
[David grimaces as he catches sight of his own maligned sheets. As he inspects the frolicking cartoon huskies, he wonders if perhaps he should just go without.]
[((OOC: Come get your laundry, Nexus-folk. Or come laugh at the patterns. Open Post.))]
- Current Mood: annoyed
Facing death was a far more welcoming gift than living in this purgatory.
And yet, being by the water seemed to calm his inner turmoil.
((ooc: Come by the marina. You can help yourself to hot winter food - European style. Soup, jacket potatoes, fish and chips. Enjoy an evening by the water's edge, even if you don't want to bother the old cat.))
...there had to be another option. Without any idea of where Octopus had gotten to lately (really, he hadn't been seen in months) he'd tried his amazing and fantastic disguise skills once more!
Nobody would think it was him if he were disguised as a woman, right? Especially one that was rarely seen in his experience.
Of course, he wasn't going to go through the humiliation of being one again. For one thing, three days of being a woman was annoying. For another, it could never be said that Liquid Snake backed down from a challenge! And the first disguise was challenging indeed. Wolf was not easy to mimic. Stuffing his shirt would not work with her, since she never zipped it up. So fake breasts were acquired and strapped on, hair-extensions added, and a sniper rifle retrieved. The suit was uncomfortable, however. Some adjustments had to be made to prevent his junk from being either crushed or visible. At least the other woman, the one he hadn't seen in a long time, would be easier. Strangelove looked almost like a man to begin with. However the shortness of her hair was a problem. Not to mention the colour. At last he settled on a wig. And thus he slipped out into the Nexus to try to find out three things: who the hell kept stealing his Ocelot, who had his dogtag and whether there were any plots against him.
At least his disguse was impeccable. Nobody should know it was him.
(ooc: so yes, uh. Liquid is disguised as either Sniper Wolf or Strangelove depending on the time of day. Feel free to come across either of them. Be warned for bad attempts at female voices and feel free to pop those fake tits.)
[So far, his travels have lead him to nothing of interest, until he spots a peculiar looking room on the third floor.]
[Entering inside the swanky room meant that the spy could investigate the surroundings. The rich, expensive looking drinks on display make for an enticing entrance, followed by the welcoming banquet of food that did little to deter him from wandering the room. Little did he realize this was an effect room - one that inevitably binds people together. Literally.]
((ooc: Handcuff room. Basically, the first person you touch in this room, you'll be cuffed to them for three days.))
- Current Mood: pensive
[But he's giving it a try now. His ego has been given a bigger boost than ever before in the nexus, and he's taking a moment to bask in it. And what better place to bask than the beach room? So Ocelot is stretched out on a beach chair facing the ocean, with sunglasses (that miiiight be borrowed from Kaz's inventory) perched on his nose, wearing nothing but leopard-spotted swim trunks and a gun holster. On a little beach table at his side sits a half-empty glass of 'sex on the beach' and a cigar tray, from which he lifts a lit cigar and brings to his lips to pull a mouthful of smoke. Stabbed into the sand near him are a beach umbrella and a few unused fishing poles.]
[Ocelot is on vacation.]
- Current Mood: chipper
[One mirror is balanced on the operating table behind him. Another is on the counter in front of him. He's using both to get a view of his own back, and the shards of bullets embedded within.]
[He curses softly as he attempts to reach to dig them out with scalpel and forceps. The pain is an irritation. The slow leak of blood makes things slippery and even more difficult to see. The angle is awkward and stretching makes the wounds burn and scream.]
[Lesson of the day: no matter how infuriating he might be, punching a man with a shotgun is a bad idea. At least he can comfort himself with the knowledge that Volgin will make Raikov suffer. If not, the next time they meet...Liquid will be ready.]
[Once he gets these damned bullets out.]
Nexus. Rooms. Room effects. Trapped. Kitchens. Alternates. Outside. Roof. Snake. Liquid. Big Boss. Raiden. Ocelot. Volgin. Meryl. EVA. Raikov. Otacon.-- He's heard enough. Unfamiliar names, but he would recognize them when he found them. ]
[So he was in the Nexus. According to these people, there wasn't an escape. He didn't detect an overarching psychic presence to imply mass manipulation, and he highly doubted it possible anyway. Being the most powerful practitioner of Psychokinesis and Telepathy in his time, it gave a good idea of what was--and wasn't--possible. Of course there were quite a few more fields associated with psychics that he wasn't apt in, but that was not the point:
Questions would be answered, but most would never be asked. If he could keep to as little socialization with these feral apes as he could, that would be perfect. A shame really, as he had enjoyed Shadow Moses. He enjoyed any excuse to kill as many people as he could. But surely there would be an excuse worth finding here as well.]
[Mantis took in a breath, distorted by the filter on his mask, and started forward. His feet remained inches from the ground, the coat and the belts along his arms billowing behind.]
[Alright, who filled the first-floor basement with eerie naked mannequins?]