seen from Germany
seen from Romania
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Albania
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Romania
seen from Norway
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Norway
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
"Hey! Hey, Cap'n! Check this out!" Ah, the crimson and azure clad wall-crawler has graced the frozen captain with his probably unwanted presence once again. What could he want this-
BAN... KAI!!!
And he... changes into a black, more... sinister(?) version of his normal attire.
" You're a disgrace. -- Get out of my face, Parker. "
*swinging by his window*
"Hey, Cap'n. I'm going shopping, you want anything?"
" -- How about telling me where you acquired this address, Parker. "
"TOSHIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" Gods, why is he screaming now? More importantly, what the hell was he running from? Maybe something... unseen?
I t's a shame that Hitsugaya's ears suddenly stopped working.
this department store used to be the anchor of the mall, but even that word ( ANCHOR ) feels too generous; it was probably state-owned, once, back when it sold identical winter coats and sensible shoes under humming fluorescent lights. in the mid-90s someone tried to modernize it, hung up vinyl sale banners, installed a few glass display cases, painted over concrete in a shade that tried very hard to be beige. now the paint is peeling.
far behind what used to be women’s formalwear, past sagging racks of forgotten inventory and mannequins with yellowed plastic faces, is a heavy metal fire door with a push bar that groans when opened, hinges complaining like an old animal disturbed from sleep. the room beyond isn't much — walls of unfinished cinderblock, painted a tired institutional grey that flakes at the corners / a ceiling of exposed piping and cable conduit, old sprinkler lines, electrical wires looped lazily along metal tracks / half the fluorescent fixtures dead and the ones that work flickering faintly, casting a greenish cast that makes skin look sickly — but it's all they've got to work with for the time being.
they’ve dragged in two portable construction lamps, those brutal halogen floodlights mounted on a yellow tripod, the kind that buzz faintly and radiate dry heat, that throw hard shadows against the walls and leave the corners of the room in thick darkness. the floor is poured concrete, cracked in spiderweb veins from years of shifting foundation. oil stains mark where pallet jacks used to sit. there’s a faint lingering smell of cardboard, mildew, and something metallic. along one wall, abandoned shelving units still stand, industrial steel racks with most of the boards removed. a few old cardboard boxes sit collapsed on the bottom shelf, labels in cyrillic half-torn away. on another wall, a faded evacuation map is taped crookedly near a breaker panel that hums intermittently.
there’s one small office inside the stockroom, a manager’s cube built with thin partition walls and wired glass, spider-cracked but intact. inside that office is a battered metal desk, one rolling chair missing an armrest, and an ancient desktop computer that hasn’t powered on in years — not until amir got to it, at any rate.
( that’s where aoi probably took the arm. ) not out in the open, in the office, door half-closed, tools laid out across old paperwork.
the heavy fire door is closed, but not sealed. someone stands outside it on rotation, within earshot but not within view. that door is the only way in and out : no windows, no vents. this is not a polished facility. rather improvised resistance in a half-dead monument to failed modernization.
they cleared a space in the center for the soldier, pushing aside shelves to create a controlled perimeter : no loose debris, no hanging wires, nothing it can grab or weaponize easily. it's seated in a heavy steel stock chair, the kind meant for warehouse use ; reinforced with ratchet straps around the legs ; secured to a steel pallet base too heavy to flip easily ; its remaining wrist cuffed to a ring bolted into the pallet frame ; ankles restrained, but not grotesquely so. practical. humane. there’s space between them, maybe two meters. enough that arthur isn’t in striking range unless he chooses to be. he's pulled up a chair, spun it 'round so he can lean on the back of it, all too casual for an interrogation.
❝ you've put me in a bad position, ❞ comes a low drawl, as if this is a minor inconvenience more than anything, ❝ because at least half of my people want to kill you. and i'm running out of arguments for why i shouldn't let them. ❞
outside the stockroom, the mall is quiet but not silent. faint echoes travel through the corridor : somewhere in the distance, a generator hums / civilians murmur in low voices from deeper inside the complex, probably bedding down in what used to be a home goods store. arthur can hear life continuing — and he's hoping that means something to their would-be assassin. nothing about it screamed scaldra. minerva and velimir confirmed as much with what little intel they had. maybe they can talk through this like gentlemen.
. . . but, if not, eleanor is positioned off to the side, just outside the harshest spill of the halogen lights, near one of the remaining steel shelving units. there’s a folding chair pulled from somewhere in the mall, angled so she has a clear line of sight to the soldier without being directly in front of it. if a distraction she needs, a distraction he can be.
@zimwy &&. @ghstrks [ plotted. ]
we don't rp because i am a little scaredy-cat and also i has no thoughts. head empty
Give me a reason why you DON'T rp with me.
STOP BEING A SCAREDY-CAT AND INTERACT WITH ME MORE, U DWEEB!! WE NEED TO DISCUSS THREAD STUFF SOON, JAY!!
@ghstrks
imho she'd be the type to se a helmith charge as cute. like full out cute.
ghstrks asked: So... full disclosure, but I don't know what Project Moon stuff is. To me, it seems like your main focus at the moment and it feels like I can't write with you because I don't know anything about the verse/lore. It's mostly a me thing, but I just wanted to say that... please do not think i don't like you because of that, it's just... dunno how to approach something i don't know much about...
//That's the thing with a niche game company like that, some times people have no idea what you're going on about. I accept things being like this and I don't mind if you have minimal to no knowledge. I'm the type to like funny crossovers and seeing where things stick.
//Tho if you like to invest time in project moon's games and the setting these games take place in, the story spans a rougelike monster management sim, a turn based deck builder, and an ongoing gacha game though understandable if these are not to your liking
End point: It's okay and I'm always open for questions about it.
@ghstrks
you're not short, cap'n. you're kneecap-kickin sized! - Spidey
" --- Is that supposed to make this predicament better? ...
CAUSE IT'S NOT, PARKER!! "
