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Entry tags:
- !location: sensoriums,
- !status: open,
- 779/splicer,
- allenby beardsley,
- anwei ayles,
- applejack,
- billy cranston,
- gaignun kukai jr./rubedo,
- gandrayda,
- hank pym,
- hellcat,
- hit girl,
- howard bassem,
- jamie mccrimmon,
- kali,
- kang,
- kanoe zouichi,
- kaya,
- lash,
- mindf**k,
- negi springfield,
- nokosi,
- pinkie pie,
- punchy,
- rachel berenson,
- rarity,
- ronnae,
- ruffnut thorston,
- samuel henderson,
- sasami masaki jurai,
- satellizer el bridget,
- scarlet witch,
- shoutarou hidari,
- son of satan,
- soren,
- starfire,
- stature,
- sumeragi lee noriega,
- the vision ii
Enchanted Aquatica---the Prom [WIDE OPEN Y'ALL]
The day had finally arrived for her big event, and Starfire couldn't be happier---or more nervous, actually. She was certainly not an expert on the inner workings of a prom, but it couldn't be too terribly complicated, right? As long as the people could eat, dance, and talk, it should be a reasonable success.
With that in mind, her decorations sprung from her mind into the large dome all around her, transforming a grey Sensorium into a beautiful underwater world, one with clear waters and free from the possibility of a shark attack.
The first change was the scent of the air, shifting into the comforting salty scent of the seas. Then the ground beneath her feet became a hardened sandstone, maintaining the gritty texture while remaining easy to walk upon---except for the smooth dance floor, of course. The grey dome transformed into a flowing bluish-green, rippling all around with fish of all colors passing in the background. Some of the 'sky' faded into a violet tone over the dance floor, lit by glowing circular lights in every color. Suspended in midair, they almost looked like motionless fireflies, though they sometimes swayed in tune with songs.
Tables arose from coral in all colors, rising from the ground and twisting to provide a flattened surface on the very top---rounded ones for guests, and long tables off to the side containing shell-bowls of food. Chairs were large floating clam shells with well cushioned interiors, some large enough to hold two people. More comfortable spongy places to sit were also littered across the area, notably by the large shell-shaped enclosure that was the promised swimming pool. It too was lit by the floating lights, providing what she hoped was a romantic atmosphere.
Finally, the glowing stage above the dance floor couldn't help but attract attention with its chairs. Six royal thrones and one plush chair of all colors directly in the middle rested in the back of the stage, leaving the front open for announcements. Just off to the side of the stage stood the DJ's table, with even that machine painted to match the soft underwater glow of the scenery.
Everything finally seemed pleasing to Starfire. With one last change, dressing herself in the formal attire of the prom, she sent out the signal to everyone and waited. She hoped they would have a wonderful time.
With that in mind, her decorations sprung from her mind into the large dome all around her, transforming a grey Sensorium into a beautiful underwater world, one with clear waters and free from the possibility of a shark attack.
The first change was the scent of the air, shifting into the comforting salty scent of the seas. Then the ground beneath her feet became a hardened sandstone, maintaining the gritty texture while remaining easy to walk upon---except for the smooth dance floor, of course. The grey dome transformed into a flowing bluish-green, rippling all around with fish of all colors passing in the background. Some of the 'sky' faded into a violet tone over the dance floor, lit by glowing circular lights in every color. Suspended in midair, they almost looked like motionless fireflies, though they sometimes swayed in tune with songs.
Tables arose from coral in all colors, rising from the ground and twisting to provide a flattened surface on the very top---rounded ones for guests, and long tables off to the side containing shell-bowls of food. Chairs were large floating clam shells with well cushioned interiors, some large enough to hold two people. More comfortable spongy places to sit were also littered across the area, notably by the large shell-shaped enclosure that was the promised swimming pool. It too was lit by the floating lights, providing what she hoped was a romantic atmosphere.
Finally, the glowing stage above the dance floor couldn't help but attract attention with its chairs. Six royal thrones and one plush chair of all colors directly in the middle rested in the back of the stage, leaving the front open for announcements. Just off to the side of the stage stood the DJ's table, with even that machine painted to match the soft underwater glow of the scenery.
Everything finally seemed pleasing to Starfire. With one last change, dressing herself in the formal attire of the prom, she sent out the signal to everyone and waited. She hoped they would have a wonderful time.
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Everyone else seems so put together. People like Zou, or Rory, who either have everything figured out or don't need to. In a way it's comforting to find someone else with similar mannerisms.
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"Sorry, am I imitating you? Another disadvantage of growing up in a totally insular culture; you end up speaking alien body language. I learned fairly quickly after I left that I should not punch people to get their attention, or yawn at full gape to show them I was bored." She considered yawning in demonstration, but decided against it. Howard would probably try to stuff fruit in her mouth - say, a whole pineapple.
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He looks a bit disappointed, as if he's lost some idea of kin he had with her. "Oh, no, I thought you just did it naturally."
He probably wouldn't waste food like that, but there's no guarantee he wouldn't try to make Anwei eat a chair or something.
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She giggles. "My natural expression of nervousness would look like this." She puts her plate down on her lap (the dress-tendrils immediately start exploring it with curiosity), crosses her eyes inwards, and starts picking at the corners of her mouth with her little fingers. "Besides, isn't imitation a form of flattery?"
Chair-eating demonstrations would theoretically require that Howard wear white jodhpurs, a red coat and a top hat, and crack a whip.
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"In my home dimension, there was a sign language people used to convey body language between species - because it's tough to show sincerity to a species that does so by spreading their wings on high if you don't have any wings. And translations could always end up being imprecise, or misinterpreted, or just flat out wrong."
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"How does that sign language translate to people who can't sign? Like sentient puddles of blood and that stuff?"
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Not that he really could without surgery.
"With a sentient puddle of blood we'd probably use text-equivalents. The issue isn't something that looks very different from you, because your mind automatically tells you that their body language is different. The issue is something that's close enough to you that you can recognize each other's gestures, but they don't have the same meaning.
"If a blood puddle waves its cilia in a way that means 'I don't like you,' you probably won't be upset. But if someone who looks just like you except they have four eyes does this," she draws her finger across her neck, "because that means 'I so respect your opinion that I would give you my voice' and you read it as 'I'm going to cut your throat', well, that's an issue."
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"Besides, that'd have to involve me actually smiling, and everyone else around Medical says I scowl too much." He still maintains that a smirk counts as a smile.
"Oh, I get it. Like how the peace sign if super offensive in Britain."
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Cheeky!
She nods. "Exactly. So they came up with 'glinting,' which is an emotion hand-signal language. And even there, I know the five-finger one-thumb two-symmetrical-arms version; there's subdialects for people with no thumbs, or asymmetrical limb arrangements."
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He nods, listening close. "And what do the people with tentacles do?"
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"Most species with tentacles just would press four together to designate two arms and least and greatest fingers. The weirdest one I saw - I can't remember the species name - but they had just one tentacle, growing out of their front, and they insisted they didn't have any other limbs. Turned out their antlers were flexible, and they could glint with those, but it was totally taboo to discuss their antlers or even say they had them when they were about to shed them.
"So it would just stand there with its one tentacle pointing at you, and its antlers wriggling, and you would kind of roll one eye," she demonstrates, "to see what the antlers were saying."
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He shakes his head. "And everyone's fluent in this glinting? It seems like it makes more sense to just work on translator chips. Your planet seems advanced enough."
What with the decapitating people and keeping their heads alive on pikes and all.
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"Glinting was for the species outside the Empire, the ones that cared about negotiating and coexisting and working together, instead of just crushing everything in their path. Explorers, pirates, mercenaries, long-term investors: they invented glinting. The Living People just didn't care."
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"Here's an idea. When we save this whole universe, we stick your world and my world in the ring together and let them duke it out. Your world wins, of course, because like, technology, but maybe Space Jesus can take a few of your winners out too."
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"I'd prefer to keep our universes from ever meeting, if possible. An Imperial AI might crack open your FAYZ and let everyone go - or it might keep you there to play with. They can be quite sadistic, obviously, seeing who created them."
"Is Space Jesus the one that's four hundred feet tall?" She wasn't very informed on Jesii.
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"No, it's the one in the mines. Brainwashes you into killing people, leaves you totally crazy when it's done. It's cute."
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Because the Empire would drop an entire planet full of sentients into a sun, just for fun. She'd seen it done. She'd seen it vidstreamed, for entertainment.
"A Jesus in the mines," she scowls thoughtfully. "One who didn't rise up and fly away to Heaven, I guess. I'm not that familiar with gods; the ones in my universe were either benign or so evil you kept your distance. Sounds like you got stuck with one of the second." Hopefully this 'Space Jesus' wouldn't come popping out of the pods any time soon.
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"It's not actually Jesus. It just mindfucks you into thinking it's your god and you have to serve it. Then it makes bug armies that eat all the kids." And as ridiculous as that idea is, it's not one Howard wants to dwell on. He helped clean up the massacre afterwards. Hundreds of dismembered bodies. Limbs dragged hundreds of yards from their owners. Blood on the ceilings. He feels a bit faint.
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For all her talk of innocence, some things were better off dead.
"Ghastly." The best cure for faintness was, obviously, more food. She offers him a shrimp tail, then pauses and turns it into a beef shish kabob. Handing him a bug right now seemed like it might be - iffy.
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And all these forces, spaceships and alien jesus and giant bubbles and the inevitably of human need, keep getting in the way of that. At least Anwei had a choice, he figures. At least enough choice to recognize wrong instead of just wallowing in it.
He takes it and swallows it, stabbing himself in the lip with the shish kebob as he does so. A little blood dribbles onto his chin, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Thanks."
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She stiffens for a millisecond at the sight of the blood, then relaxes. If Howard looked more like one of her species, she might have reacted more strongly. But of course he wasn't trying to be seductive. That wasn't Howard's way.
Instead she conjures up a pad of gauze, suitable for applying pressure. "Here," she says, offering it. "You got your lip. If you injure your mouth, you might have to slow down on your eating. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"
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He takes the gauze pad from her and uses it, blushing a bit. He doesn't like attention called to his strange eating habits, but he supposes he picks at Anwei's enough, so it's only fair. "I guess not. Thanks again."
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She looks consideringly at him for a moment. "I've often thought that it must be nice to have blunt teeth. Teeth for chewing and grinding, not just for slicing. Being able to sneeze without worrying that you're going to slice your lip off."
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Because, if so, whoa. Still waters and all that.
"Yeah, it's a real blast. Every day I wake up and thank God for my nice blunt chompers."
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