cocooned: (Dinner etiquette is important)
[personal profile] cocooned2013-08-15 04:30 pm

[Video][Action]

[There's a girl stuffing her face with a parfait down town, attempting to ignore the cameras as she complains to the boy sitting across from her. Huffy, she pouts while taking another mouthful, ignoring the bit of cream that decorates her nose.]

Calling me a diva...! Can you believe it? It's not nice painting false pictures like that of people!

[HUFF HUFF HUFF her teenage pride has been wounded because in reality she really isn't, even if she is indignant at the moment (her feelings are hurt okay). Taking another large bite she glowers to herself and companion.]

I've been trying really hard to do my part and help pull all of this together, despite just being a high school kid. It's not like I'm Shiki-senpai or Touya-senpai!

[OM NOM NOM]

Zero, I'm really mad! Aren't there more interesting things? Like who's dating who or the like, instead of making up false rumors. Ah-!

[She lifts a finger up]

I bet if they were to follow people around properly, they'd be able to find someone out on a date. Getting ice cream or lunch or something together. That'd be a lot more honest.

[video] Interview Time!

[ The video opens on Chuck sitting in a chair in the apartment, walled off by curtains so the illusion of privacy stands. He looks from one off-camera person to another, and offers a sort of tense smile. He glances at the camera -- ]

Just pretend the camera's not there, Chuck.

Oh, ah... okay. [ He looks back off-camera! ]

How are you settling in?

Oh, fine. I mean, after you spend a week on a deserted island, anything is good, right? Ehehehe. Especially the coffee. [ Makes little "robot" hand gestures, speaking in monotone. ] Chuck need coffee to function.

What role were you assigned in your team?

Um... I'm the judge for Team Two.

That's a pretty important job.

[ Chuck tugs at his collar. ]

Yeah... everybody's really nice, though. Even the other teams. [ Nervous laugh!! ]

Do you have any experience in the fashion industry, Chuck?

[ Clears his throat. ] Um, not exactly. We sold a few fashion designer video games at the Buy More, but I never played any...

Do you have a favorite designer?

[ Completely at a loss. ] Ah, Converse? [ Points down and the camera pans down as Chuck lifts his pant leg and shows off his, well, chucks. ] They count, right?

Sure they do.

Oh, good. [ Gives a bigger, more sincere smile. ]

Who do you think is the biggest diva in your group?

[ Deer-in-headlights look. ] Um, do I really have to answer this question?

[ Suddenly, he appears thoughtful. ] I think Yuuki, maybe. Or maybe Effie.

[ End interview! ]

[Mingle]

[So you're in the studio and the camera crew has instructed your characters to break into your teams to discuss 1) the client's personal fashion comfort zone and preferences, and 2) how to give them the Stylecation makeover they obviously need, while 3) working in the episode theme of "animal".]

[Or that's what you're supposed to be talking about, to obey the host.]

[Please don't mind the cameras focused on you at all times, even following you to the snack table to grab coffee and danishes and donuts. But feel free to crash one of the other team mingles!]
Entry tags:

[Wake Up: Setting 2]

[REALITY TV]



Obey the host. Time limit, one-hundred and forty-four hours.


Info Post | Teams Post
sublimating: (HULK VS THE WORLD)

{action}

[Bruce has skipped his jog in the morning to sleep in a little; there's no point in going on a long run to work himself up and wear himself out when the whole day is basically a long expanse of serene idling and keeping active. he's always tired when he goes to bed, which is the goal.]

[and he wakes up with a start at what sounds like a cannon going off, and then another, and there's sounds of alarm all around him; and his heartrate shoots up, so fast and so hard that he thinks he might lose it, and he thinks: use it, don't get used by it.]

[which is why a giant green manlike figure comes bursting out of what used to be one of the shelters, tearing it apart; the Hulk roars, earth-shaking though the earth is already shaking, arms wide and in a ready stance for whatever may come at him. and then pauses.]

[there's nothing to fight but a volcano.]

[video/action]

[ Chuck is being brave!! He waited until daylight to go explore about ten to twenty feet into the jungle. And he's happy to stay right about there, until--

BOOOM! ]

Guys? Guys what was that? [ Calling into his communicator as he comes out of the jungle, and looks in the direction of the sound.

Should.

Have.

Stayed.

In.

The.

Car. ]


GUYS?! Jungle on fire. Red sky! Lots of smoke and BOOM! Guys!

[ RUNNING BACK TO CAMP NOW. ]

((OOC: Threadjacking a-ok!))

[action][open]

[ Sometime in the night, despite the fire and the fever, and wearing every piece of clothing, the chill he'd been dealing with deepens, bringing on bouts of shivering that wakes him and then keeps him up until well after sunrise.

He's been dozing on and off, as he did for most of yesterday, and doing his best to be unobtrusive. "Lavi's" penchant for grabbing attention is the last thing he thinks to play up when all it will do is advertise his vulnerable state. And he doesn't trust himself to keep up pretenses when everything hurts and he is having a hard time seeing.

He doesn't know it, but the blood vessels in his eye have begun to turn black.

As evening approaches, he does move back over toward the fire, glassy-eyed, chalk-pale and disoriented.

And, eventually, whatever grace period he's maintained from that Noah's parasites expires, and he begins to convulse, making strangled, pained sounds and foaming at the mouth. ]



((OOC: I'm devating a tiiiny bit, because Lavi's going to be conscious and able to talk, but eventually he will become catatonic until day 6 or so. Any questions, or want to work something out, hit me up on plurk. :3 ))
Entry tags:

{video}

[the video shows Sif, sprawled on the beach lazily some distance from the settlement, feet buried in the sand and working on her godlike glow. chillaxin' this morning]

You know, in the days we have been here, laboring and taking meals, I haven't heard anyone sing. In Asgard I am hard-pressed to go anywhere without someone thinking to lighten the mood with their dulcet tones.

Don't tell me not a one of you can hold a tune!

action

[ not too much later in the day, on a less populated section of the beach, Tony and Bruce are on a mission.

the mission is science, of course. and their weapons, at the moment, are a large expanse of beach that is currently serving as a makeshift whiteboard.

scrawled across it are a series of equations, all of them deceptively brief (read: condensed), but also filled with cryptic symbols that won't be familiar to anyone who hasn't gotten deep into physics. a healthy heaping of biochemistry will also help you to parse their work, which at the moment seems to be very focused on energy conversion and heat especially.

come stare! or step all over their hard work! you jerk :(

feel free to tag either of them but expect some thread jacking! after all, they are both standing right there ♥ ]
everwalking: smile / sly (♦ does... that go there?)

[video / mingle]

Video
[morning of day three. there are clouds out and Allen loves them. he's pretty much given up on shirts and is just grimly bearing with his bright pink sunburn. the video shows him, and what he's working in his hands -- one dark red and exoskeletal -- is some thick grass, weaving several strands together to make a rope. he has a pretty decent amount of it. he's been working on it since the first day]

I feel really strongly that we should make a net so that we can catch more fish. [so that he can starve less. paaaause] But it's taking longer than I'd like. I don't suppose anyone else has any rope to contribute... [he trails off, staring at the water. it looks so cool and blue and inviting. and full of fish]

...You know, never mind. [shoving himself up and steeling his pink-and-red shoulders] Does anyone know how to hand-fish?


Mingle
[It's time for playing in the water!! Whether you're fishing, swimming, sunbathing on the sand, or just goofing off, let's get our beach on!]

[Feel free to respond to Allen's video post here, to make your own comment threads for mingling, or both!]

[action - tropical island day 2, during the afternoon storm]

[it's a minute or two into the rainstorm, and Pepper is standing in the rain with her face to the clouds. she left her suit jacket somewhere safe, somewhere she can go to if the lightning gets too bad. until it does, though, she's happy here, where the rain cools the air and the wind feels almost cold against her damp skin and clothes. it's a comfort that the water isn't sizzling off her when it touches her skin, like she thinks it might if she were upset or losing control.]

[this is probably the happiest she's felt since Christmas, and definitely the happiest since this mess of waking up in strange places started.]
emends: (pic#6298378)
[personal profile] emends2013-06-24 09:40 am

action/video → open, all things encouraged, come eat

[ It’s only a few hours after sunrise when Lucina fetches up her communicator. She’s a seasoned hand at going without long stretches of sleep and has already made herself useful. There’s a steady, crackling fire going on the beach and above it, a fair amount of speared fish roasting calmly. (They’re dead. That’s why they’re calm.) There’s also a small selection of forest fruit – calabaza, naseberries and soursop – resting on her strewn cape, less than a foot away from the fire pit.

She’s noticeably sunburnt. Her boots are off and her trousers are rolled up to her knees, leaving her with bright red patches on her lower legs to match the one on her nose. She also doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the affliction, her tone even and her face halfway to a smile.
]

I have managed to get some food for us. Should anyone wish to break their fast, there is a serviceable selection at the beach. Come quick, for I’m afraid it will be first come, first serve.

[ The communicator feed clicks off, and then clicks back on. ]

And, um – good morning, friends.

[ She smiles! Inigo would be so proud of her. The call closes once again. You can call her back, either to yell at her for waking you up or yell at her for not grabbing the fruit you like, or just come down and eat. Threadjacking and mingling are encouraged. ]
sublimating: frown / think / worry (Default)

[action - semi backdated to midday]

[at midday Bruce finds himself hovering at the edge of the sand near where the sand begins to give way to grass and trees, milling about and rubbing his hands, occasionally ducking down to survey the plants that are visible from the tree line. the heat is oppressive, but he's unfazed by it, having spent times in hotter climates. it's already been a trying day, and the last thing he wants to do now is dwell on the things he can't change about their situation]

[he promised Sif that he would forage for food, edible fruits and vegetables and berries; and Sif promised him volunteers. so he's waiting to mentor whoever shows up -- and/or who he stumbles across in the jungle while hunting over the next few hours]
cocooned: (Battle Ready)
[personal profile] cocooned2013-06-19 12:46 pm

[Action] [Video]

[ . . . This is not where she last was. Although she's having trouble remembering what she was last doing (it's a blank slate). So when she comes to somewhere down the beach a ways, she's disorientated enough all ready. Not to mention waking up with a strange note and in a place like this! She was at the academy, wasn't she? Walking farther and farther into the depths of the jungle, she fiddles with her communicator.

This is a phone, isn't it? Or something like it, she thinks. So even if she doesn't know how to. When it flickers on, she's got a long, metal, staff like rod in one hand, hanging, for the moment, casually at her side. Otherwise her brows knit in concern as she stares into the feed.]


This is on, right?

[She clears her throat.]

Headmaster? Zero...?

[Although she doesn't know if she should expect to hear them. If she's been captured somehow, then she doesn't expect them to be around. Which is-- a troubling thought, too. Even if she'll deny it to Zero, she can't help but to feel anxious when on her own. And now she's lost and can't remember anything, try as hard as she might. The grip on her weapon tightens lightly.]

Um... excuse me! Can anyone else see or hear this? Can anyone here understand Japanese? [ . . . This certainly isn't anywhere near to home, after all. M-Maybe she needs to try another language. Her English is abysmal though, and she doesn't know any other languages.]

H...elp.

[Er... 'Help' is the right word, isn't it? But she's not sure how to communicate anything past saying hello and her name. Or if anyone where speaks English to begin with. Instead she falls back on what she knows.]

I've been kidnapped and given a strange note. I need the authorities... or a...ranger? I don't know where I'm at, but it's no where near home. If anyone at all can please help, let me know.

[A pause, before her face darkens.]

And if this is only connected to the people responsible... you have a lot of explaining to do! Kidnapping high school girls is the worst! Believe me, you've made a BIG mistake!

[action]

[Settlement? Psshaw. That was easy as pie. Zat didn't even think it was going to be much of a challenge. Unless, of course, this place decided that his magic is unworkable.]

Dliub Esuoh! [Nope.]

Dliub a Kcahs! [Nuh-uh.]

Tnet Raeppa! [Oh look, that one manages to work-- albeit it's a small tent, and only manages to fit one person.]

Oh hardy har har. This joke is getting stale really fast.
Entry tags:

[action]

[Well, this certainly doesn't look like the island she was on before, that's for sure. Anyone around scavenging or trying to find their way around might notice the newly-arrived Robin with her sunglasses propped out of the way as she uses a pair of binoculars pulled out from her bag to scope out the surrounding areas. Not quite yet wandering past into the jungles, she lingers at the outskirts close to the beaches but noting things of the depths and mountains at first glance, at least.]

Hmm.

[Occasionally, she reaches back and opens a notebook, makes a few notes of these observations, then returns to quietly wandering. Keeping an eye out for her companions but finding no sign of them either...]

The iron bridge is gone, and there is no longer any sight of the fighting fish. No ship wreckage, track marks or anything close to the same large plants of the Green Bit forest.

How strange.

[Stopping some distance away from the shore, she finally puts the binoculars away, bag slung over her shoulder. Robin fixes her glasses back down and frowns behind them, now examining the communicator.]

By all evidence, it is an entirely different place. I can't make contact with them...

[It doesn't seem right. She'll spend the rest of her time tinkering around with the device, to figure out its use past the instructions on the display. Even for someone who usually keeps her cool when waking up in strange places, this is definitely something else, man.]

[video / action]

[the communicator flickers onto Sif's face, which settles into satisfied lines. she figured it out, this enchanted metal device, so now she can go back to what she was doing -- which is wrapping her free arm around a tree and casually hauling it out of the ground]

If we are to follow the whims of our captors -- which I'm of two minds on, myself -- we should at least begin by figuring out who is best-suited for what. [briskly]

So go on. [she drops the tree, also casually, and then goes to tear out another. she's not sure how much wood they'll need] I require knowledge of how many are here, and what skills you possess. We will want someone with knowledge of plants to forage, and someone with skill at fishing. We will need a source of fresh water, and likely vessels fashioned to carry and hold our supplies in. Those with strength or skill at construction who can put together the shelters, and those who might construct defenses around the constructs.

And those of you who are more accustomed to living in human cities, well... [a beat. trying to think of something charitable] We will probably need someone to -- gather sticks, and the like.

[action] Top of the world, looking down on creation...

[ On one section of the beach, about twenty feet from where the sand gives way to jungle, someone has planted a giant mallet head into the sand. A bright, red scarf is tied to the handle. The handle sticks straight up--

And up--

And up--

And up into the sky. If you're good at estimating height, you might guess it's two hundred feet up above the ground. And at the very top, you can see the shape of a person up there. ]

[action] A decade's worth of Games ago

[there was an arena like this once. ten, eleven years ago? there were horrible sand-dwelling snake muttations on an isolated chunk of beach, and the tides grew worse and worse with every passing day. naturally, the victor had been from District Four, and Effie's tributes -- she couldn't help but think of them as hers, even though it made it difficult to watch them die -- hadn't made it past the first five hours.

[so when she wakes up atop one of these rocky guys right here, she thinks, for a minute, that she has been transported to that old arena and left there by some cruel tour guide.

[she is ignoring the instructions on her communicator right now because there is a much more pressing problem to be dealt with: getting off this rock and onto the beach proper without ruining her pretty dress and shoes and hair and-- well, you get the idea.

[if you're around, you see her taking little steps to the edge, peering down at the water, trying to judge the distance between herself and the shore. (hint: she would not make that jump if she had a running start and good, sturdy flats.) very soon, she goes from frustrated to upset, pouting, batting her butterfly eyelashes as if she's about to unleash a rain of glittery tears.]


Oh, this won't do! Is there anyone who can help? [very quietly] I can't swim.

[Action] Please don't rock my boat

[ Peter is sitting cross-legged on the sand inland far enough that he's past the rising tide. He's got a stick in one hand and he's drawing something in the sand. He's very clearly focused on what he's drawing. Occasionally, he reaches up and blurs out what he's written with the heel of his hand then re-draws it.

If one stands over his shoulder and looks, his sand drawings are clearly plans for some kind of shelter. He's taking their mission seriously, not necessarily because it was dictated to them, but because he wants to be prepared. No one will be surprised that he was a boy scout when he was younger. ]