INTROS + MONTHLIES

[trainmasters]

Who: Everyone
When: Day 51, evening
Where: the Aurora

[It's evening, and as the stars come out you get that text again:]

WELCOME NEW HEROES

[This round's newbies are waking up in their rooms, in the usual nondescript undies or team pyjamas.

Outside, the fog is gone. In its place is a pleasant evening, its beauty enhanced by tiny, softly-glowing flowers along the jungle paths. Unfortunately, should you peer closer toy may notice these flowers have blackened, curled leaves -- and the scent that wafts up when you step on them will either heighten or dull one of your senses.

But hey, why go in the jungle when you could eat questionable snacks in the lounge again? This time there are towers of round chocolates in varying colours, and sparkle blue and white snowflake decor on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. In typical Star Prince and Knights fashion there is a lot of glitter, and the chocolates definitely have a magical side-effect: in this case, transformation.

☆ Blue-wrapped chocolates cause your character to shift in age. They may get older or younger, and this transformation may be purely physical or may include mental shifting as well.

☆ Silver-wrapped chocolates cause your character to gain animal features -- anything from cat ears to fully becoming a cat is acceptable, and any animal real or mythical is game. It won't change you to a size that doesn't fit in the train, though.

☆ White-wrapped chocolates cause a transformation to a different physical sex.

☆ Black-wrapped chocolates cause you to take on the form of another person -- someone on the train or someone you remember from elsewhere. It won't turn you into anyone you don't personally know, however.

These effects wear off within a few hours, and you can combine more than one. Enjoy your icebreaker and make that fresh meat feel welcome!]

[[OOC NOTES: As the monthly prompt, the flowers will continue until next month's placements. If you have any questions, please ping the mods via the q&a. Thank you!]]

Comments

[voreaciously]

You can't just say scifi aliens like that, you have to be specific, but I think that's still really neat. What is a "scifi" anyway?

[everythinghappens]

Science fiction. Have you ever seen Alien? Or Aliens? Or Alien 3? Or any of those other ones literally nobody liked?

[voreaciously]

Oh, it's a portmanteau [she says with perfect french accent] I understand.

No, I haven't...I do not get to watch things very much, I am too busy studying and learning things.

[everythinghappens]

Studying is literally as informational as watching horror movies about space. You can't really trust something you haven't observed yourself.

[voreaciously]

Mother says the same thing, so I get to do a lot of that! But a lot of what I study is stuff she's done, so it is really trustworthy and accurate. She's a world-class authority.

[she sounds like suuuuper proud!]

[everythinghappens]

Huh. Well, I guess. She's one of those professors who makes students buy her book, isn't she?

[voreaciously]

I think everyone just wants to buy her stuff? There's no one better than her.

[NO BIAS. WHATSOEVER.]

But I do not have to buy anything, silly. She's my Mother!

[everythinghappens]

Oh, right.

[ she stretches, kicking her toes against the ground. ]

So what's she research, anyway? Or I guess, what's your field?

[voreaciously]

Dollcraft and adjacents!

[everythinghappens]

Craft. Craft. Ha! Haha! So what, is that magic then? Welcome to the showing lesser scientists they're wasting their time club!

[voreaciously]

Science is never a waste of time?

[???

she's confused]

It's both magic and science. There are lots of ways of doing it, but the best way is magitech.

[everythinghappens]

Of course science is never a waste of time! Some scientists are wasting their time. If you could punch a hole in paper with your bare hands why build a holepuncher?

[voreaciously]

Um...because there would be a hole the size of your fist in the paper? That's bad?

[is this



a trick question]

Tools have their place in the world.

[everythinghappens]

Man, you really are sharp.

But think smaller. We wanna prove getting through the paper is even possible. You don't need a tool to do that. Maybe a tool makes it easier or more efficient, but it's not necessary.

[voreaciously]

[HOLY SUGARS SHE WAS PRAISED.

GIVE HER A FEW MOMENTS TO STARE AND BLUSH]

I-I am? [ADULT APPROVAL she is just SO #BLESSED right now!!!]

Well, trying to punch paper perfectly the same way every time is a waste of energy and really hard to do--do you punch things? That is why using a tool is better! That energy and focus can be used for other more important things. It is good to have your own power to do stuff, but using stuff can be really important too!

[everythinghappens]

[ man you are the exact kind of kid she would laugh at when you figure out she had you killed and converted into a doll and then subsequently memory purged like three times due to brainworm infection.

the smart ones are just so cute. ]

Ha! Guess I've got kind of an arms race mentality. Iteration one named us Victory because...

...

Okay well if I'm being honest it's because MSFC had a theme, the theme was cocktails, her name was Victoria, so Victory Gin was basically the same thing. But the more elegant reason is that I made myself to win the most important war ever fought. A war that was fought half conventionally, but half informationally. Playing a game like that, victory's pretty inevitable when you are Victory, right?

But besides that, I guess that's just the way I think about things nowadays. You don't have time for saving energy when the literal and metaphorical bullets are flying, you know? You gotta just punch through.

[voreaciously]

[Amane is listening with rapt interest. This adult already commands much of her respect on top of being an adult so she's here for it.]

A cocktail? Do rooster tails have special names?

[seriously, that is something she hasn't learned]

That does make sense. If you don't have tools, you have to be your own weapon and defense. That's what Mother says. She is teaching me that, too.

[she sounds a bit sad]

But I'm not very good, yet. She always wins.

[she always gets hurt too.]

[everythinghappens]

I mean, they do if you name them. I'm talking about mixed alcoholic drinks, though. They have fun names like Six Feet Under and ADIOS, MOTHERFUCKER!. We ran out so eventually we just started throwing in names of non-mixed alcohol.

[ but she tilts her head, listening, and then

headpat headpat ]

That just means you gotta be more creative. They say you dust yourself up and try again, but they are a pack of idiots with bad advice.

In my experience, the winning move is always to lay in the dirt and sucker punch 'em fifty to a hundred years later! Haha!

Don't do that. It takes way too long. Just give yourself cool laser eyes or something.

[voreaciously]

Oh! Adult drinks, okay. Those do sound cool but also bad? I can't say one of those...are they all like that?

[ommmmmg SHE IS GETTING HEADPATS

she hasn't had these since--

since...

whatever she was about to say or argue dies in her throat and she sort of...stops.]

[everythinghappens]

Some are just things like Sangria or the completely unimaginitve Rum and Coke.

[ um ]

Hey, you okay, kid?

[voreaciously]

Yes...yes, I'm fine.

[what were they talking about again?]

Fifty to a hundred years seems like a really long time...

[she isn't even double digits yet, she can't even wrap her head around that]

[everythinghappens]

Not when your lifespan is equal to the amount of time in which there exists at least one being capable of processing and understanding abstract concepts!

[voreaciously]

[...]

I still think it's a really long time...

[wait then]

How old are you, actually?

[everythinghappens]

...Hah. The one issue I never really solved was perfect memory maintenance. You live too long and fine details get distorted pretty bad. But let's work it out: Iteration one was around 40 when she started this project. Each iteration since has had an average operative time of 30 years. I'm number 23, possibly 24. Accounting for the ones that were temporary measures and decommissioned less than a year after conveyance, the lowest estimate of my age is...

Five hundred years, give or take.

[voreaciously]

That's so loooooooooooong!

[HOLY MOLY]

You're so old!