[ Opening Mingle ]

[randomly_modding]

[Everyone will wake up suddenly, as if having drifted off -- while sitting upright in an uncomfortable office chair. In one hand they're holding the communicator, and in their lap is propped a clipboard with a job application (standard, looking something like this; it requests up to ten years of job history, ) and a pen. The waiting room is also fairly standard, except for being empty.]

[The communicator's lock screen reads, Complete the job application. Time limit, twenty-four hours.]

[There are magazines, fake plants, and computers. There's a staff lounge with food -- tupperware that might have belonged to some of these nonexistent workers, popcorn and cocoa packets, vending machines -- and restrooms. There are exits, but characters will be unable to use them... or make their own, or escape in any way.]

[So the characters are stuck here, until tomorrow morning. Set up a comment telling everyone what your character is doing, and thinking, whether they're obeying the task or not, at any time during the day. Then tag other people! Be sure to check back later in the week, when people are encouraged make threads for the evening as well as the day! Characters that have been claimed are also welcome at this point to join the community, and will be able to make their own posts, which can be tagged by anyone taking part in the event.]

Comments

[actlikealady]

[she eyes it, and then just. drops the tupperware of salad on the table, folding her arms and letting herself smile]

I'll take you up on that, friend.

[if nothing else, she'll take a hot meal over a cold one any day, and lettuce with bits of eggs in it is not her idea of any kind of meal]

[howbigcanitbe]

Hellboy. [ by way of introduction. if they're going to share food, they might as well get on a first name basis.

he dumps the can into a bowl he finds in the cabinet and sticks the bowl in the microwave. ]

[actlikealady]

I am Sif. [she tilts her head, watching him work the microwave]

--That machine is for warming food? [it would've helped to know that]

[howbigcanitbe]

Yup. Warms it, cooks it. Occasionally explodes it.

[ignore the popping sounds as chili splatters on the microwave because what? use a napkin to cover the top. That's for losers.]

[actlikealady]

[their kidnappers deserve a messy microwave!] Impressive. I suppose as there's no flame, there must be another means available to heat food. [huh]

You seem more familiar with these things than I. Is this structure not in the "Earth" style?

[howbigcanitbe]

[ heck yeah they do. ] Microwaves. Hell, I don't understand it, but it works. That's all I care about.

[He glances over at her, confusion on his features.] Yeah. Earth style. Where you from?

[actlikealady]

Asgard. And I -- thought you from Muspelheim, but clearly not, or you would know. [puzzling, but she shrugs after a beat. as long as you know how to work the microwave and want to share with her, why should she complain!]

[howbigcanitbe]

[ he recognizes the name of the realm she's referencing from mythology books he studied as a kid. ]

You're not completely wrong. I'm from the Underworld. Sorta got stuck on Earth when I was a kid and was raised here.

[actlikealady]

Ah, you were raised on Midgard. Small wonder you are familiar, then. But I was led to believe humans are not accustomed to seeing people such as yourself... Was that not difficult for you? [in her experience humans have seemed stunned just to see someone with a sword, after all]

[howbigcanitbe]

Yeah. They point and scream, run. Call me a freak. They can't stand how pretty I am. [He says it with a grin and a wink, but it hurts a lot more than he will ever admit. He spent plenty of time in his room as a little demon crying. ]

[actlikealady]

[ah. her features soften a tiny bit] I am sorry. That is no way for them to treat you.

Especially not good-looking as you are. [she covers it with a smirk of her own, tossing her hair back] If it's any consolation, I had some small difficulties along those lines myself.

[howbigcanitbe]

Nah, don't make that face. It ain't so bad. [At least not bad enough that he wants pity for it.]

Why'd they make fun of you? You're gorgeous.

[actlikealady]

[a lopsided smile for him] Which is all well and good as long as you behave as you're supposed to behave. In Asgard, women do not fight other than to defend their families in a crisis, and certainly do not make careers out of doing so -- nor enjoy it.

So I was called many names, by those I promptly made to regret their choices. [and maybe she was a defensively aggressive lonely little girl, but she's proud of herself!]