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Haibane Mods ([personal profile] haibanemods) wrote in [community profile] haibanememe2015-12-08 09:44 pm
Entry tags:

Test Drive #1

Test Drive Meme #1
Prompts


Waking up: You wake up in a bed that is not your own, in a room that is not your own. But the more you think about it, you can't remember what your room looked like. In fact, you can't remember anything at all! But hey, at least you're not the only person around. Reach out, find someone, and get some answers.

The Dream: Haibane enter this world without most memories, but they do remember one thing: their cocoon dream. But it's not so easy to understand, is it? Maybe talking through it with someone else will help you figure out just what your dream means.

Wings aren't easy to use: So, you're a Haibane. Awesome. But you know what's not awesome? Getting used to these darn wings, that's what. Suddenly having two extra limbs that you're not sure how to control isn't easy, and they're liable to bump into things and just plain get in the way. Actually, you might want to apologize for unintentionally hitting that person in the face, or help clean up that lamp you knocked over.

On the town: Glie is a beautiful city, and there are a lot of places to explore! So why not check some of them out? Everyone seems friendly enough, and the townspeople are more than willing to help anyone who gets lost. Check out the setting page, pick a spot, and go check it out!

Wintertime: It's wintertime in Glie, which means snow, snow, snow! And even though it's cold, the sun is shining, so the cold is bearable today. What are you going to do? Go sledding? Have a snowball fight? Make snow angels? Well, that last one should be a lot easier to do now.

Player choice: Don't like these prompts? Come up with your own! The city of Glie is quite large, and there is a lot to do.




warrioreidlos: © tumblr id erwinoutfitters (Default)

[personal profile] warrioreidlos 2016-01-06 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
[He lifts her back onto his feet without much difficulty, letting go of her hand when she looks steady on her feet once more.]

I'm not surprised. I don't think anyone could've seen over that stack of boxes.

[He glances at the scattered boxes, before picking up the one closest to him, holding it out for her. Huh, pretty light. Though that is not that surprise now that he thinks about it. She had been carrying a lot of them at once, and unless she's a lot stronger than she looks, there is a limit to how heavy they could've been] What's in these anyway? Nothing fragile, I hope.

[Because if there had been, it must be smashed by now.]
charcoalfeather: (Default)

[personal profile] charcoalfeather 2016-01-08 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
[Woosh! There she goes! Rakka's almost a little surprised as she's helped up, though not to the extent she could be - the girl wasn't as light as a feather, as some people might joke, but hopefully he didn't hurt himself doing that...]

I guess... [Bleh, at least Kana wasn't here, or she'd never hear the end of it. She looks more then a little bit thankful as he hands over one of the boxes.] No, it's nothing fragile; it's just clothing for the Haibane down in Old Home! I thought that, since we always need something during the winter times, I'd get some of it.

[...Some of it turning into all of it seemed to be the case.]
warrioreidlos: © tumblr id erwinoutfitters (Default)

[personal profile] warrioreidlos 2016-01-08 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[She doesn't have to worry about him hurting himself. These muscles aren't just for show.]

That must be a terrifying amount of clothes if this is only some of it.

[His eyes crinkle a little at the corners. And though his next words are an admonishment, his voice is warm enough to keep from being outright stern.]

You should be careful not to overdo it, especially not in this weather. [He bends down to pick up another box.] Want some help?
rasenwolf: (6)

[personal profile] rasenwolf 2016-01-08 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Hm?

[ He's got a mop and bucket in hand; evidently he's cleaning (in fact, most of what he's been doing today is cleaning, and he seems determined to clean everything, or at least most of everything.

He stops what he's doing, though, at Rakka's voice, and sets down his supplies.
]

Oh, did you need help with that? [ It looks pretty awkward to carry. ] I can carry it, if you like.
quickster: (Happy - Thumbs Up)

Sonic - Sonic Archie Comics

[personal profile] quickster 2016-01-10 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ A new place meant new places to explore. And luckily, Sonic happened to have found himself in the industrial district to the West. There were lots of factories, machines, and moving parts to keep ones attention.

He whistled as he strolled along, eyes darting every which way as he looked at the sights. ]
Love what they've done with the place.

[ It was just then he spotted someone nearby, someone like you! He trotted right up to them in order to get a bearing on where he was at. ] Yo! I've never been here before. What part of Mobius are we on?
charcoalfeather: (The crows?)

[personal profile] charcoalfeather 2016-01-10 09:22 am (UTC)(link)
[That's what they needed around here, so it's not like Rakka would be the first to object to more cleaning happening. Then again... if he was just going to do that, then asking for help wouldn't be too much, would it?

It'll be fine.
]

Yes! That would help a lot. [...cough.] I mean, if you're not already busy, are you?
rasenwolf: (3)

[personal profile] rasenwolf 2016-01-10 09:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ He shakes his head briefly. ] It's perfectly fine, miss Rakka.

[ He takes the canvas from Rakka, handling it as gently as she herself had. No worries there either, it seems. ] Where is this piece bound for?
charcoalfeather: (I uh...)

[personal profile] charcoalfeather 2016-01-13 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[....Indeed.]

Well, there's a lot of Haibane in Old home now. [Which was true enough. This was way more hatchings then they'd apparently been ready for. Or Rakka was ready for, at least. She was doing her best...!]

...I'll, uh, try. [wehh. she's supposed to set an example as the older feather. At least he seemed to take it in stride, so she puts on a smile.] Yes. That would be really nice! I was worried about how I'd get them all the way back to Old Home.
charcoalfeather: (Default)

[personal profile] charcoalfeather 2016-01-14 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
[a bit of a laugh at that.] Just "Rakka" is fine!

[It's a simple painting that he's holding, of somewhere in Glie. But the way Rakka was holding it, the importance of not breaking them was more then evident.]

Um, that one can... oh, it can go down to the main room! I'm sure there's a nice spot somewhere down there.
rasenwolf: (5)

[personal profile] rasenwolf 2016-01-14 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
Ah, very well. Rakka it is. [ He carries the painting downstairs. ]

This painting...it's similar to the ones already in the main room. Is the artist the same?
Edited 2016-01-14 07:26 (UTC)

Trip | Pokemon Best Wishes!

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-15 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[Well, he isn't quite sure how he got here, but all he really gets is that he's in some kind of nest or at least, that's what the people here described it as. Oh, yeah, and the people here? They have wings. He thinks it all sounds kind of ridiculous somehow, but it's hard to doubt any of it when he woke up the first time suspended in fluid he could breathe and had to claw his way out of a wet, papery cocoon.

There were some things said about a dream, a city, jobs, and names, but it was all too much to keep up with and frankly, all the attention was exhausting and he didn't like having so many people around. He couldn't make sense of half their answers anyway.

The best way to figure things out was to figure them out on his own. So, he decided to leave that bed, after convincing everyone to leave by acting like he really wanted to get some sleep— well, he was supposed to be feigning sleep, but he dozed off for real, but only for a little while, he was sure of it— he decided to go ahead with his plan of exploring this dingy, run-down looking place. He didn't really have anywhere better in mind to compare it to, but it smelled and looked... bad somehow. The walls were grimy and blackened, like there had been a lot of smoke here, once. It was noisy too, he could hear people running and shouting beyond the walls too...

Wandering the factory, he kept on silently searching for answers of his own as to what was going on... he felt a little tired and warm, but it wasn't going to keep him from exploring! Maybe he'll find something interesting?]
hachimaki: (Honey I'm good.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
[his head's full of cotton and his ears are full of water by the time green eyes open into... sewage, that's what he swears it is, a panicked hand reaching through pulpy vines, a fighting response that's ingrained in him when he feels cocooned, trapped, drowning -- ]

[he can... breathe? was he always able to breathe under water? is he a thing that can? quizzical limbs search through soft padding, ripping it, rejecting it, clawing his way to freedom with nail and fang]

[the torrent of amniotic fluid gushing over dirty factory ground is a roar, the smack of wet knees and palms the final punctuation from its yell, and a teenager comes bumbling out of a great cocoon webbed between two old and run-down machines only but a few hours after the equally aimless boy wandering the area had]

[hacking coughs are more for panic than requirement, lungs forcibly switching from the sea to the sky]


You -- [it's a rasp at first, one eye locked shut and breath heaving, reaching for the table's surface to help lift himself up; his hand finds a tool instead and he crashes back down with a metallic clang]

Tch! Oi, who are you? [quick one to make demands, isn't he? but he answers his own call quicker than his wayward company can] ...who am I?

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
[What a rude man! His immediate response is to puff up his chest, raising his head and giving the younger Haibane (was he really younger, though? Just look at the size of him!) a disdainful look.]

I... am...

[He's starting to deflate a bit, stammering unexpectedly, blinking twice. Where did this baseless confidence come from? His cocoon name didn't quite fit, it didn't feel real, so he hesitated to answer... long enough for the other boy to switch to asking about himself.

Now, he walks closer to look down on him, extending a hand.]


I don't... really know. [Somewhat weakly, after that strong beginning.] but you and I are called Haibane now. We forget everything, so we get our new names from our dreams. You had one too, when you were in there, right?

[Now, there's a return of that haughty arrogance from before, turning his nose up in the air, the hand not extended now resting on his hip.] And anyway, I'm your senior Haibane, so you should address me with the proper respect! [Senior by a few hours, perhaps, but he was going to take what he can get, okay.

How'd he get stuck with this brat? Awful luck.]
hachimaki: (All blood rolls down the drain.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
[which one is the brat stuck with the other, seriously]

[oh, the younger boy isn't the only one to have his haughtiness, looking at the hand offered to him with plain disdain before turning his chin away at it, reaching up to (successfully) grip the table once again and lift himself up -- how stubborn]


"Haibane"? What kind of stupid name is that... [he doesn't even recognize how he knows it's a stupid name, the characters that form the word in writing, the pronunciation more than mimicry but not enough to be memory. a cold gaze is all that meets that personal inquiry, not deigning to respond to things like vague visions he has no will to comprehend, not when he's soaked and cold and this deeply confused]

[...the proper respect. really?]


There's no way in hell I'm showing you respect; you're just a pipsqueak with an extra-loud helping squeak. [it isn't a terribly good show of his own condition, however, when his teeth chatter loudly on that last word -- how is it this kid doesn't seem to be suffering from the cold like he is? sure, he isn't wet, but... is his face flushed?]

Fine. If you don't know who we are, then what about where we are?

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
[The coldly rejected offer has Trip withdrawing his hand, with only the slightest annoyance. Mostly, he felt a budding respect for the older boy...

Quickly dashed, of course, by the insult.]


H-hey! Now listen here, you big brute...!

[Even in the middle of his angry outburst, he's fortunately not too loud or distracted to catch that chattering of teeth. Right, there's no one around to change this one, is there?]

Well, I suppose I have no choice but to tell you... [You'd be lost without him, here implied, of course. Terribly smug.] Abandoned Factory. In the city of Glie. This a nest where Haibane, like us, are born... or, er, hatched. They're called that because they have wings, but they don't look a thing like angels.

... the ones I've seen look like a bunch of punks, if you ask me.

You shouldn't stay in those, by the way. They washed and clothed me when they found me— [Or, he's pretty sure they did, anyway... he kind of dropped unconscious after breaking free, maybe he spent more of this day sleeping than he thought he did, but he was clean when he woke up.] I saw a bathroom on the way here.

[Certainly, the boy's face is very flushed and soon as he turns to walk, he sways quite a bit. He doesn't make a sound and quickly rights his posture, his hand touching the wall only for an instant of support, insisting on walking alone.

They're both incredibly stubborn, prideful brats, it seems.]
hachimaki: (Are you alright? I worry sometimes.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
[the transitory period of listening to his new companion talk ("brute", what a compliment) is filled with a slowly-comprehending green-eyed stare and a few idle gestures; fingers swiping fluid off of his face, swallowing a stale taste of blood from his mouth, touching a piece of fabric wrapped around his forehead and skull -- the half-attention clearly doesn't give the hubris before him the attention it needs to thrive]

[hatched... he looks back at the great sac gaping with the wound he's carved out of it from his own 'birth' with disbelief and disdain on equal footing]


"Angels"? Haa... so you're crazy. Good to know. [it's more dismissive than it is judgmental, which is certainly a good sign]

[he glances back just in time see him break away, only one step in a quick follow him before he watches him slouch, center clearly off and something obviously ailing him... that he says nothing about it garners his own sense of grudging appreciation, and to honor it he calls no attention to it]

[doesn't ask if he's okay, doesn't offer a hand out, doesn't pick him up and carry him -- just lets him get through his own struggles without the shame of intervention]


You look like a punk so I don't know how you get to j-judge anyone. [responds through clicking teeth, finally, turning the tide of the conversation] Glie, Haibane, nest... hn.

So you're new here too. From a... hah-hatch. [gestures to the perforated cavity they're leaving behind even if the smaller one won't see it] What are they calling you? Y-your new name.

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 07:14 am (UTC)(link)
You're a pain, you know that, right? [Grumbled a bit, but clearly, he isn't too bothered by the older boy's casually flung insult. He wouldn't have let it slide under any other circumstances, but he was feverish and could scarcely put one foot in front of the other, let alone pick a fight with an older, more strongly-built boy. He was conserving his energy...

But when he doesn't humiliate him for the brief leaning on the wall or the way he fell off-balance, he could feel the beginnings of a mutual respect; let's hope it lasts, this time.]


Do I? [Disinterestedly, as he scans the hallway. Which door was it...? Everything looks the same. That chattering is worrying him, he should get there faster. He resumes walking resolutely, but answers the boy's question:]

Shoot. I— dreamed I was taking pictures with a camera. M... m-maybe I was a photographer, before. Or maybe it doesn't really mean anything.

[He suddenly feels a sharp, pulling pain at his right shoulder as he was about to make his way past a door. He falls forward, accidentally throwing the door open with a gasp, equally surprised and pained. It seems he'd leaned onto the door for support when he first felt the pain and accidentally opened it in the process.

... which works out well enough for them, really, because they would have passed this bathroom by otherwise! It's a dingy looking thing, but there's a shower, a sink, a drain, and a mirror. Don't mind the boy half-kneeling on the floor, still gripping the side of the door, despite his pride. He's quiet now, head down, but wait, is there a moving, lump under his gown?!]
hachimaki: (No one loves me & neither do I.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
Aa. [grunts in agreement, somehow indeed knowing that he's a pain -- antagonistic, critical, annoying, any number of words he can think to label himself with (and, a sneaking suspicion he can't tamp down, others could too, not unlike the boy currently guiding him)]

[the simple acceptance pleases him somehow. crazy punk, just like that.]
You do.

A photographer? [a considering beat. he wants to chastise it, say it's a useless profession that has no practical use or higher purpose, but "Shoot" beats him to any words by slamming open that door with more force than obviously either one of them expects]

[so the problem's growing. maybe he's ill? sharp eyes watch his smaller body shake with labored breaths and -- a hand reaches out and forcibly raises his head up, green eyes finding hazy, feverish blue ones]


...Oi, you're burning up. Come here. [wastes no time in bodily dragging him to the sink either, the handle for the cold water turned with a loud, stressed squeal of metal on metal. it's brown for the first second but it fades to rust and then to clear, and he's encouraging the blond's head under the stream with no small amount of roughness]

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 08:12 am (UTC)(link)
Ghk—

[And under the water he goes, hands feebly gripping the edges of the sink.] E-easy. [He manages to choke out. There was no need to manhandle him this way, honestly. He wasn't even resisting, the squaring of his shoulders was all guarding from pain. There was little he could do to preserve his dignity when he could no longer hide the shaking of his bones, the burning touch of his skin, whatever it is his body's trying to fight—

The roaming, turning lumps on his shoulders, red as a fresh bruise, each pull causing him to writhe and twist, are easy to see now with the way he was hunched over, visible through the vertical slit splitting the back of his over-sized gown, laced at the top to hold it together.]

W-wha
What's happening to me...?!

[He sounds terrified, wracked with pain, words broken up by sharp gasps.]
hachimaki: (Just confessed to treason.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 08:37 am (UTC)(link)
[zero reason at all, other than he's a terrible person to be nursing anyone, bedside manner completely absent in his demeanor even on the best of days. the stream of water soaking blond hair doesn't seem to be calming or cooling him at all and it's only when he's hunched over in that low light that the samurai actually sees the squirm of... of tumors under his thin clothing, whipping back with a start]

[it takes entirely too long for him to catch up to reality, staring wide-eyed at the squirm and furl of flesh -- and he finally moves, ripping at a lace, nearly tearing open the top of the fabric]


What the hell. [it's as raw as that flesh looks, and when his fingers drift over the back of his neck to pull the gown down, he can feel that he's even hotter here than he was on his face]

[ -- somehow, he regains his calm quickly, clearly a man used to emergencies and quick thinking. his instincts tell him to press his hands to those two burgeoning lumps, press them down and hold them in... but the more rational and experienced part of him reminds that vomit, pus, infection is always better out than in]

[if only he had a... a what? a kitchen knife? a...]


Just stay like that. [a hand claps down on the back of his neck and pins him there, bent over the sink, keeping him from thrashing and risking greater injury to himself. the fingers of his other hand dip under the stream for a rinse and then... hesitantly touch his shoulderblades, pressure light, working towards their center where dark pinpricks are starting to raise, dark blood bubbling out in two fine streams]

I'll pull it out. [whatever it is]

[whatever it is, it doesn't need his fucking help.]

[(is this aid or pure, dark curiosity? he would lie if asked.)]

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 09:06 am (UTC)(link)
[He's stunned by the hand pinning him to the sink, but it's all for the best, really, because his knees buckle and his legs give out, so he could have fallen. The edge of the sink bit into his neck and he thinks it's going to bruise, sputtering in the water.]

Nngh...

[You nearly snapped his neck there, idiot brute— is what he'd like to say, but he really can't manage anything more than pained groans at this point.

Just now, through the fog of pain, his fever-addled brain collided with the meaning of the older boy's words.]


W-w... wa—ait...!

[There really isn't time, not for him to protest nor for the other boy to reconsider (if he ever planned on it), the mounting pain comes to a peak and with a tortured scream, the wingtips that older boy had trapped under his fingertips knifed through the boy's back, unfurling with enough force to send thick, trails of blood dashing across the back wall in twin pillars, the spray smattering the one who stood between them as well.

Feathers glued together with congealing blood, one timidly folding, the other offering him no resistance, what sprung forth from the grisly wounds were undeniably wings. He wasn't crazy after all.]
hachimaki: (Buried deep within there's a human.)

[personal profile] hachimaki 2016-01-16 09:30 am (UTC)(link)
[neither thing feels extraordinary]

[the scream of a choked, agonized throat or the audible smack of ripping flesh -- hell, even the sudden gush of warmth and wetness on his own hands and face feels commonplace and unspectacular... who is he? is he, too, a monster, like this boy squirming beneath his grip but with a beasthood that is entirely voluntary? (if you aren't crazy; am I?)]

[he's too confused and transfixed by the sight before him, those brand new appendages sticky with gore and plasma and this whole place smelling less like dust and rust and more like freshly-forged iron]

[shouldn't this make him sick? his fingers slide between the two wounds and he feels nothing]


Into the shower. [announces it finally, turning his body halfway to reach for the knob, letting the downpour clear up before he picks the smaller male out of the sink and carries him into the stall to soak them both in the icy spray. he spends no time washing him, more focused on keeping his insane fever down... curiously at the risk of his own plummeting body temperature]

H-hey, you breathing alright? In through your n-nose, out through your mouth. You can scream again if you need to. [oh, he can express concern.]

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 10:10 am (UTC)(link)
[Although he's thoroughly exhausted from the entire ordeal, he does shiver and hiss at the sudden chill. His fever has broken and it isn't long before he feels quite cool, despite feeling dangerously high mere seconds before. Now that the wings were no longer roaming under his skin, his body had nothing left to fight. He wondered if the difference he felt in the other boy due to his own perception or if he was going to be sick too.

Shoot opens a bleary eye to watch him, tiredly, from under the slicked-down mop of dirty blond hair, before giving a little nod to confirm he's alright, he's breathing, (no, he will not scream again), reaching back to feel what soaked in the pooling water behind him, slowly, fearfully. The slightest brush and he recoils, before trying again. The bristles cling together, sliding on his wet fingers, but they feel smooth and velvety nonetheless. He thinks of flapping his wings and shifts his shoulders, but they don't move significantly. A pity.

The blood flushing down the drain, his wings were closer to grey now, although there's still a great deal of blood trapped between the feathers, discolouring them in patches. Still, they're far less shocking than the sight from earlier.]


... that's... how they come in?

[He can speak clearly enough now, only slowly. He looks up at the older boy, now bringing his hand to push back his unevenly-cut hair from his blue eyes, sharply scrutinizing, searching, memorizing. Craning his neck to get a better look at his face, to try and learn his features, he exposed the red bruise on his neck.]

Hey.

You never... told me your name. Your new name.

[It's alright if he didn't tell him his dream. He already had the upper hand in every other way, what's one story unshared. He only wanted a name to anchor the memory of that face, something to ensure he wouldn't forget the one who helped him. He wanted to return the favour to this stranger who took care of him despite being just as in need of it himself.]

I hope it's still okay to play with you, always wanted to play with a Haibane Renmei character ;3;

[personal profile] shootaro 2016-01-16 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[That was a really loud shout. And an even louder smack into that slippery, ice-covered path. The Haibane was more neatly dressed and wasn't one he recognized (probably someone from Old Home, wasn't she?) and had funny-looking wings which, upon closer inspection, were covered in cloth. A glance to the contents of the box confirmed as much.

Treading carefully, the heavily-bundled blond boy picked one up to examine, studying the wing-covers for a little longer before he remembered to extend a hand.]


Um, need a hand, miss?

[Somewhat flustered that he'd forgotten to ask how she was or offer help or even acknowledge her at all, when he finally did extend a hand, the fabric of jacket shifted with a disorderly beating of trapped wings underneath. Either the boy wasn't aware wing-covers existed or he was intentionally smothering his.]
charcoalfeather: (The crows?)

[personal profile] charcoalfeather 2016-01-16 05:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Hehe... [And she'll follow him, the other few held carefully under her arms. Good thing there's no ice in here to slip on.]

Yes, that's right! They were painted by a Haibane that used to live here! [She wears a thin smile on her lips.] She was very good at it.
Edited 2016-01-22 00:27 (UTC)

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