#anotherhiim

[yesterrp]

Character name: wingdings gaster !!

Achievement name(s): It’s beginning to look a lot like crisis! — Participate in your first event.

Proof of achievement: everything in this tag!

ACHIEVEMENT GET !

It’s beginning to look a lot like crisis! — Participate in your first event.

Congratulations! For unlocking this achievement, you can add 25 Embers to your currency tracker!

[yesterrp]

name : w.d gaster !

achievement name : yestermonth .

proof : apped in on 2/28 .

ACHIEVEMENT GET !

Yestermonth — First month in yesteryear!

Congratulations! For unlocking this achievement, you can add 25 Embers to your currency tracker!

[gospinego]

@anotherhiim.

THE SPINE WASN'T SURE IF HE SHOULD CONSIDER HIMSELF LUCKY for not having broken down yet. He knew it was just a matter of time - and without the Walter Workers around , it would be sooner rather than later. No matter how hard he tried , there's a very limited amount of maintenance he can do on himself. Especially when he doesn't exactly have any of the tools he needs at his disposal. So it wasn't a complete surprise when his optics finally decided to short circuit on him. One second he was walking through the sprawling deserts of Sunset's End , the next he was practically doubled over in an attempt to hold himself together.

THE SHARP SOUND OF A JOLT OF ELECTRICITY broke through the near - silence that surrounded him , accompanying the shock of pain that came with his optics short circuiting. The scenery was washed away by the blinding white that filled his vision , head twitching erratically as the electricity surged through it.

STEAM BILLOWED FROM HIS EXHAUST and he groaned in pain , a hand reaching up to rub his face. After a few seconds his vision finally returned , albeit still a bit blurred due to the strain put on his machinery. He took a moment to regroup , pistons knocking and gears grinding as he straightened himself up again. Half of him thought that the black spot in his vision was just a new side effect of his malfunction , but when he turned , it didn't move with his vision. He stared at the figure for a moment before clearing his throat awkwardly. A hand raised to tip his hat in greeting. ❛ . . Howdy. ❜

[irvinnie]

@anotherhiim

This place could almost be nice, he thinks, if it weren't for the persistent feeling of dread hanging over him. That's probably the point, isn't it? Not being able to enjoy your apparent freedom, the sun and the trees, because you've been left without direction. Irving knows two things: one, he has no idea what he's supposed to be doing; and two, terrible things are going to happen if he doesn't do precisely what he's supposed to.

Do they know what he doesn't know? They must. What are they watching him for, then? Trying to see what he does when he's left without supervision? Perhaps he should be taking initiative, looking harder. Maybe they're just waiting to see how long it takes him to attempt to escape, though he's not sure where he could escape to. He's already outside. There are trains here, trains that he's free to take - they don't require a badge swipe. He hasn't even been given a badge, still.

Or maybe they just enjoy watching him stress over the unknowns. If that's the case, the very last thing he needs is— is—

Oh, god. The thing moving down the street towards him is like something out of his dreams, the waking nightmares he's been haunted with more and more frequently, oozing black slime ( paint, he's started to think; even here his Outie won't spare him from whatever message he's trying to send, whatever he's trying to tell him of the exports tunnel ) and a face that's simply wrong.

Irving stares for a while, too stunned to move, and looks over his shoulder, not sure what he's expecting to see there. There's nothing but the empty stretch of street behind him, of course, and he backs up a couple of steps, shaking his head. He does he wake up? Realizing he's dreaming has never achieved anything for him in the past. "No... no. No, no. Go away," he raises his voice towards the thing. "I got your message. I understand— I'm not there anymore. I can't do anything for you now. You can leave me alone!"

[guiltmotif]

@anotherhiim

It takes Nick an embarrassingly long time to track down his house ( prison cell; honestly, they might as well be calling it what it is ) once he gets off the train, and not a second of it is spent in good spirits. It's gloomy and damp and half the citizens are giving his attire judgmental looks. Just to avoid them, he puts on his sunglasses at one point ( and then, embarrassingly, has to remove them because the fog makes it too dark to see with them on ).

Shockingly, he has little to complain about as far as the building itself goes. There's a pool. Rent is probably through the roof, however that situation works - god, he's gonna need a job - but that's true everywhere these days. He only hopes the beds are serviceable so he can throw himself face-down onto one and hope he's passed out on a bar floor back in Savannah when he wakes up again. The key fits the lock, so that wasn't a lie, at least, and holy fucking shit there's a giant slimy skeleton standing smack dab in the middle of his fucking living room.

"Jesus fuck!" Nick grabs the closest thing to him, a lamp resting on the small table near the door, and throws it. The cord snaps taut, the lamp falls to the floor and shatters, and Nick grabs the door handle to yank it open. But he locked it behind him, of course. He shakes it a couple of times, looks over his shoulder, and yeah, the fucking melty thing is still there. "What the fuck!?"

[yesterrp]

hello !!! its leggo again . im looking to app in wingdings gaster of undertale fame . his application is at /app or in the navigation sidebar. no reserve was placed.

Thank you for completing your paperwork in a timely manner! Now, let's see here…

The eccentric figure takes back the clipboard and reads through your answers carefully, although he keeps glancing back up at you uncertainly..

"Hm. I think I should have the Rekindler checked out after this one, make sure it isn't turning people into skeletons and mush… you were like that before, hopefully…? Yes? Okay, good - either way, the perfect place for you would be LUCTENMIRE, the coastline shrouded in mystery. Theatricality is above - and present in - everything. Personal style, celebrations, religious ceremonies… you name it. Just, uh, careful with the canine beast that roams around, I think."

With that, they hand you a gift bag containing the following items:

A house key for LILAC STAY 402

A palm-sized cellular device, complete with access to the internet!

A singular wrapped butterscotch. Enjoy!

Any other notable items you had with you upon arrival have been confiscated by the Rekindler, as have your abilities. Sorry about that, and welcome to your new home in New Yesteryear!