an oc art, rp, whatever blog run by @ramsauced. no minors. most dark and sensitive topics do not get tagged. tread cautiously.
Router.
01 Who is this prick?
02 Relationships [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]
03 AU Tracker [UNDER CONSTRUCTION]
Rules & Content.
CW FOR: death, gore, and violence, substance abuse, psychological abuse, sexual abuse, self harm, ryona and similar themes.
Must be 21+ to interact.
Mun uses any pronouns. All content is tagged with #modpost
Things said in-character are not reflective of the mun's IRL beliefs, nor are actions done in-character condoned IRL.
Ask before writing his actions on his behalf.
WHERE - Engine Room
WHEN - Day 128
WHO - Zeta Santiago, Kaisoro
@loverofsmokeandmirrors
It was just before noon. Z was unexpectedly engrossed in a game of Bingo happening on a leisurely side of the upper deck when the ship lurched, and the little machine generating numbers promptly puttered out.
Oh what the fuck, he just needed one more! Many other participants were rightfully concerned abour the disturbance, exchanging glances towards one-another in their seats. He was different. With a grand prize of a free meal at Umi-Mono on the line, he instead stood up. “C’mon don’t stop drawing yet! I’m about to wi-”
He’s in the engine room.
The objection dies in his throat. He doesn't remember blinking, yet he's in the engine room. The sound of the space was unmistakable. A sudden perturbed feeling washed over him. He scratched the back of his neck to dispel it and glanced around. How the hell...?
He was sober, wasn't he? Quickly engaging himself in a freqenty practiced reality check. Senses worked correctly. His watch was the correct time, a red tipped bingo marker humorously, still in his hand. By the newfound dot on his palm it still worked, too. He couldn’t have dreamt the prospect of free sushi dinner slipping through his fingers in that case. Sigh.
Even still, how’d he even get here? He need not dwell on his familiarity with this part of the ship, his intimate knowledge of how much screaming could be muted by the room's loud, overwhelming, industrial droning — it just wasn’t the right time of day for that.
Plus, it wasn’t like he had anyone to…
That line of thought took care of itself. He wasn’t alone. Across the room he could make out another man, not exactly casual, but much too... unlike an employee to be one. Interesting.
"Hey," He called, projecting just enough for his voice to be heard over the machinery. “Just got here, I take it?”
“Guilty.” He chuckles, waving his marker. He could tell he was being scrutinized back, but given the situation, it was only fair. He keeps it light.
"Wow, you were in the lounge this early? Were you there all night, or-"
The words didn't die in his mouth, so much as leave the impression they would have never existed in the first place. In the time it'd have taken to utter another syllable, he is a quarter step in the opposite direction, his attention pivoted entirely on to the array of machinery behind him.
Someone was there.
He's not quite sure how he heard it over the engine roaring. If he were to think about it, he’d be hard pressed to distinguish if he actually heard anything. However, years of seedy encounters had taught him to never not act a hunch. His hand is awfully favorable towards his his hip for a person not particularly armed with anything.
In the gloom he could make out an employee uniform. It's wearer was not paying them any particular mind, walking deeper into the ship without exhibiting any awareness of their presence at all.
Hell if he was gonna be the one to alert them. Zeta watches, gradually untensing himself the further the steps carry the figure away. After considerable distance, he slowly turns back to Kaisoro and gestures over his shoulder. An incredulous squint in his eyes
(csh) Are you worried about getting caught for, erm, your suspicious activities?
"Maybe I was at first, but if you think about it...
What is the last major incident on this thing that you remember? A kid vomiting in the pool, maybe. A granny slipping and busting her hip."
Hes making a curious expression, but is eyes were intense, demanding.
"Have you ever actually noticed anyone in danger? Missing? Can you remember any of their names? Their faces? Hell, look at yourself: Were you always a lone passenger on this ship?"
"Are you sure?"
He backs away, the intense demeanor changing effortlessly back into his usual, cheerful indifference.
"Not that I can explain any of this, but its weird, isnt it? How consistently anything too unusual just... "
"Never happens."
He taps the side of his temple thoughtfully, winking before he turns to walk off.
"Just give it a few days. You'll probably forget you even asked about this, too."
WHERE - Engine Room
WHEN - Day 128
WHO - Zeta Santiago, Kaisoro
@loverofsmokeandmirrors
It was just before noon. Z was unexpectedly engrossed in a game of Bingo happening on a leisurely side of the upper deck when the ship lurched, and the little machine generating numbers promptly puttered out.
Oh what the fuck, he just needed one more! Many other participants were rightfully concerned abour the disturbance, exchanging glances towards one-another in their seats. He was different. With a grand prize of a free meal at Umi-Mono on the line, he instead stood up. “C’mon don’t stop drawing yet! I’m about to wi-”
He’s in the engine room.
The objection dies in his throat. He doesn't remember blinking, yet he's in the engine room. The sound of the space was unmistakable. A sudden perturbed feeling washed over him. He scratched the back of his neck to dispel it and glanced around. How the hell...?
He was sober, wasn't he? Quickly engaging himself in a freqenty practiced reality check. Senses worked correctly. His watch was the correct time, a red tipped bingo marker humorously, still in his hand. By the newfound dot on his palm it still worked, too. He couldn’t have dreamt the prospect of free sushi dinner slipping through his fingers in that case. Sigh.
Even still, how’d he even get here? He need not dwell on his familiarity with this part of the ship, his intimate knowledge of how much screaming could be muted by the room's loud, overwhelming, industrial droning — it just wasn’t the right time of day for that.
Plus, it wasn’t like he had anyone to…
That line of thought took care of itself. He wasn’t alone. Across the room he could make out another man, not exactly casual, but much too... unlike an employee to be one. Interesting.
"Hey," He called, projecting just enough for his voice to be heard over the machinery. “Just got here, I take it?”
"Well, I wasnt thinking about boat maintenance 30 seconds ago, if that helps." He shrugs, an amused exhale leaving his nose.
His eyes were always slow to acclimate to abrupt changes in lighting. He takes his glasses off to wipe the lenses and rub a dull throb out of the bridge of his nose, for a brief moment his bloodshot sclera more clearly on display. He puts them back on and makes his way over to the stranger.
Taller than him, but much thinner. "Where are you coming from?" Z asked. He figured it'd at least be good to know how much if the ship this mishap affected. More subtly, what kind of person he was stuck with.
WHERE - Engine Room
WHEN - Day 128
WHO - Zeta Santiago, Kaisoro
@loverofsmokeandmirrors
It was just before noon. Z was unexpectedly engrossed in a game of Bingo happening on a leisurely side of the upper deck when the ship lurched, and the little machine generating numbers promptly puttered out.
Oh what the fuck, he just needed one more! Many other participants were rightfully concerned abour the disturbance, exchanging glances towards one-another in their seats. He was different. With a grand prize of a free meal at Umi-Mono on the line, he instead stood up. “C’mon don’t stop drawing yet! I’m about to wi-”
He’s in the engine room.
The objection dies in his throat. He doesn't remember blinking, yet he's in the engine room. The sound of the space was unmistakable. A sudden perturbed feeling washed over him. He scratched the back of his neck to dispel it and glanced around. How the hell...?
He was sober, wasn't he? Quickly engaging himself in a freqenty practiced reality check. Senses worked correctly. His watch was the correct time, a red tipped bingo marker humorously, still in his hand. By the newfound dot on his palm it still worked, too. He couldn’t have dreamt the prospect of free sushi dinner slipping through his fingers in that case. Sigh.
Even still, how’d he even get here? He need not dwell on his familiarity with this part of the ship, his intimate knowledge of how much screaming could be muted by the room's loud, overwhelming, industrial droning — it just wasn’t the right time of day for that.
Plus, it wasn’t like he had anyone to…
That line of thought took care of itself. He wasn’t alone. Across the room he could make out another man, not exactly casual, but much too... unlike an employee to be one. Interesting.
"Hey," He called, projecting just enough for his voice to be heard over the machinery. “Just got here, I take it?”
WHERE: Casino
WHEN: Day 129, Evening
WHO: The Dealer
@01011000-01001111
It had to have been a stroke of miracle to be transported somewhere so many air-headed children of rich lineage were crawling around, drunk and unsupervised. Z whistled as he walked into the casino, a crisp pack of cigarettes in one pocket,and a stranger’s satisfyingly thick wallet in the other.
Of all things, it was the lingering tobacco stench and overstimulating slot machine noises that made homesickness gnaw at him. How he longed to be watching two doped up, over-modified freaks of nature beat each other to death in a bar cellar right now. He fiended for more exhilarating entertainment he didn't have to manufacture himself. For the time being, blowing exorbitant amounts of money through tamer means would have to do.
He passed familiar (enough) card and roulette tables. The only major difference was how manual it all was compared to the activity back home. Did that make his odds better or worse? He thought. Tampering seemed easier to do, but easier to see. Hell, how sure is it that the rules are even the same?
No chance he wanted to find out that jokers were playable after going all in. Scanning over his surroundings for the nearest blackjack table. Best to start simple.
He pauses mid gait. A dealer stands out from the rest. A woman pretty stacked in more than just cards. There was an air about her not unlike the casino itself, daunting but just enough allure to try his luck.
Yes, this should do just fine. Taking a seat, he flashes his best sheepish smile.
“Err, sorry. I can't remember if I’ve played this one before. Care to refresh me? First over 21 busts right?"
He wasn’t lying, but If this was the game he thought it was, he knew how it looked. Someone his age and disposition couldn’t recognize Blackjack, of all things? He was curious how the dealer would take it. More rather, curious how much nonsense she seemed to entertain before he broached ideas he actually wanted her to believe.
Setting: Anchors Aweigh!
Where: Luxury Buffet
When: Day 122, Lunch
Who: Minkyu Han, Zeta Santiago
During an impromptu interview with a stranger on his sixth course at the buffet, Minkyu decides to push the envelope of conventional conversation. Begins here!
"Well, you heard him! Guess I'll have to catch you guys later," Minkyu says cheerfully to his phone camera and then promptly puts it away—no wait.
"Also, if today's video felt like looking in a mirror, be sure to check this out, yeah?" he adds, pointing downwards to where the floating text would be.
Now he puts it away.
Then, he boldly sits in the seat across from the hungry stranger, folding his hands on the table in parody of business negotiations. "This should be fine then, right?" he says.
Now, does he actually care about filming this stranger eating? Of course not! Not his market, not his thing (though he knows more than a handful of people who'd be more than interested).
What he is interested in though is interesting conversation and—more than that—interesting people, and this stranger with his appetite, bloodshot eyes, and cheeky winks seems just eccentric enough to feel promising.
The insistance this man had on taking up his time was begining to veer into comical. He had to be bluffing, right? Or did he want something else? A churlish part of himself wondered if he'd be able to expose enough nerve to call it out.
"Oh, really?" Zeta asks, idly twirling the remaining half of his pasta — a truly unreasonable portion — onto his fork. Almost effortlessly, the mound of noodles is gone in two bites. Not the most difficult food to be swallowing without chewing, but a feat nonetheless. He hated the idea of letting it get any colder.
"Since you're so curious, tell me then. What would you want to see?" He placed the stained dish onto the infamous stack with the others: at the corner of table away from himself, but directly in front of where the self-proclaimed 'professional' sat. He made careful his eyes never broke contact with Minkyu's own.
After that, he leans forward on the table of his own accord. Almost in mimmicry. He gives his own toothless smile.
"And ah, pardon my lack of saviness in these spaces, what kind of viewership are we talking here? I'm sure it doesnt come as a surprise to you, but I'm not exactly interested in sanitizing my image."
Minkyu eyes the growing stack of plates with a reserved sort of awe and a veiled sort of something bordering on disgust, though it doesn't quite make it there. Big eaters aren't his thing, but he has to give this stranger his flowers for polishing off a pasta in two bites. He wonders if this guy's ever won an eating contest.
"And ah, pardon my lack of saviness in these spaces, what kind of viewership are we talking here? I'm sure it doesnt come as a surprise to you, but I'm not exactly interested in sanitizing my image."
Weird response. If it weren't obvious just looking at him, it's the fact that this stranger's meeting Minkyu's off-kilter approach head-on that would have sent warning bells ringing in the distance—this guy's trouble.
Minkyu smiles a salesman's smile. "Who said anything about sanitizing?" he says, then waves his hand dismissively. "Viewership comes later—you figure out the marketing after you figure out your brand, blah blah, all that boring stuff.
"But, you mentioned rates! I was curious what you were thinking."
"I just hope you're not giving this much haste to it if we actually end up in business. " He says in jest to the handwaving, but a look in his eyes indicates a touch of scrutiny. He means it.
As Minkyu routes the topic back to pricing Zeta sighs. He just won't let it go, huh? "Right, the rate. Let's see," An ounce of quick thinking his part, his eyes scanned over the cocktail menu sitting at the side of the table. What would be an accepable fuck off number, 100 of these? 200?
"How about 3600 a video. 15 minutes a video. Additional revenue I'd be willing to split what, 70/30? That's generous, right? " A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. Surely the vlogger wouldn't care enough about this to start haggling.
Setting: Anchors Aweigh!
Where: Luxury Buffet
When: Day 122, Lunch
Who: Minkyu Han, Zeta Santiago
During an impromptu interview with a stranger on his sixth course at the buffet, Minkyu decides to push the envelope of conventional conversation. Begins here!
"Well, you heard him! Guess I'll have to catch you guys later," Minkyu says cheerfully to his phone camera and then promptly puts it away—no wait.
"Also, if today's video felt like looking in a mirror, be sure to check this out, yeah?" he adds, pointing downwards to where the floating text would be.
Now he puts it away.
Then, he boldly sits in the seat across from the hungry stranger, folding his hands on the table in parody of business negotiations. "This should be fine then, right?" he says.
Now, does he actually care about filming this stranger eating? Of course not! Not his market, not his thing (though he knows more than a handful of people who'd be more than interested).
What he is interested in though is interesting conversation and—more than that—interesting people, and this stranger with his appetite, bloodshot eyes, and cheeky winks seems just eccentric enough to feel promising.
Check out what? Zeta couldnt help but wonder. From the standpoint of pure surveilence, if this guy was as popular as he acted, it'd be worth nabbing a device off of someone and finding the videos.
On the matter of devices, did feel a sense of relief watching the Minkyu tuck his own away. At least he finally got the hint.
He was more than happy to get back to his food in peace, but the vlogger doesn't walk off to accost another passenger as anticipated. More rather, sits directly across from him, hands folded like he's ready to really talk. Zeta's grin stiffens as he clenches his jaw.
"Don't tell me you're actually looking for a quote," He says skeptically, his tone amused to cloak his waning patience.
"You don't seem like the type who'd be eager to divert an audience to someone else."
"Call it a professional curiosity," Minkyu says, flashing a trademark smile, and then breaks his rigid, upright posture to lean on the table, relaxed as though in the company of a friend and not a stranger. Personable!
"Besides, you don't know me—for all you know, maybe I am the type!"
Boy, he sure hopes this little detour is worth it, because he's delaying his own lunch for this.
The insistance this man had on taking up his time was begining to veer into comical. He had to be bluffing, right? Or did he want something else? A churlish part of himself wondered if he'd be able to expose enough nerve to call it out.
"Oh, really?" Zeta asks, idly twirling the remaining half of his pasta — a truly unreasonable portion — onto his fork. Almost effortlessly, the mound of noodles is gone in two bites. Not the most difficult food to be swallowing without chewing, but a feat nonetheless. He hated the idea of letting it get any colder.
"Since you're so curious, tell me then. What would you want to see?" He placed the stained dish onto the infamous stack with the others: at the corner of table away from himself, but directly in front of where the self-proclaimed 'professional' sat. He made careful his eyes never broke contact with Minkyu's own.
After that, he leans forward on the table of his own accord. Almost in mimmicry. He gives his own toothless smile.
"And ah, pardon my lack of saviness in these spaces, what kind of viewership are we talking here? I'm sure it doesnt come as a surprise to you, but I'm not exactly interested in sanitizing my image."
They have those here too huh? Interesting... He thinks, putting another forkful of pasta in his mouth. Though, his attention was more devoted to the similarities between his world and this one than the prospect of actually becoming a web entertainer.
He took his sweet time finishing the bite, as he thought the question itself was confounding. As if he wanted to talk about that with a guy using him for clicks in the middle of his lunch. This was also neglecting the rapid realization that he had no idea what working wages even looked like in this world to begin with. But ultimately he remains placid, looks between the vlogger's face and the phone in hand with amusement and manages a chuckle.
"Well... I'm sure you of all people would know, it's rather poor form to share my rates unegotiated on camera like this. I mean, I could be serious! If you really want to hear, you'll hypothetically have to see me after your little show." He says with a wink.
Setting: Anchors Aweigh!
Where: Luxury Buffet
When: Day 122, Lunch
Who: Minkyu Han, Zeta Santiago
During an impromptu interview with a stranger on his sixth course at the buffet, Minkyu decides to push the envelope of conventional conversation. Begins here!
"Well, you heard him! Guess I'll have to catch you guys later," Minkyu says cheerfully to his phone camera and then promptly puts it away—no wait.
"Also, if today's video felt like looking in a mirror, be sure to check this out, yeah?" he adds, pointing downwards to where the floating text would be.
Now he puts it away.
Then, he boldly sits in the seat across from the hungry stranger, folding his hands on the table in parody of business negotiations. "This should be fine then, right?" he says.
Now, does he actually care about filming this stranger eating? Of course not! Not his market, not his thing (though he knows more than a handful of people who'd be more than interested).
What he is interested in though is interesting conversation and—more than that—interesting people, and this stranger with his appetite, bloodshot eyes, and cheeky winks seems just eccentric enough to feel promising.
Check out what? Zeta couldnt help but wonder. From the standpoint of pure surveilence, if this guy was as popular as he acted, it'd be worth nabbing a device off of someone and finding the videos.
On the matter of devices, did feel a sense of relief watching the Minkyu tuck his own away. At least he finally got the hint.
He was more than happy to get back to his food in peace, but the vlogger doesn't walk off to accost another passenger as anticipated. More rather, sits directly across from him, hands folded like he's ready to really talk. Zeta's grin stiffens as he clenches his jaw.
"Don't tell me you're actually looking for a quote," He says skeptically, his tone amused to cloak his waning patience.
"You don't seem like the type who'd be eager to divert an audience to someone else."
"Why the hell do people keep asking about that.. did something get out about me?" He grumbled.
"Whatever. The answer's plenty. My friends, my house. Being able to use holotech instead of this slippery little glass brick everyone's ironically carrying their most important credentials on. The rec drugs back home that would kill your average passenger three times over, pillows that stay cold all night, android hookers you could jailbreak for extra minutes... *weary sigh* "
"Mind you, Mister Han, I'm plenty hydrated! You gotta be to make this bottomless drink voucher worth it, right? Sleep is eh, could be better. But trust me, its not a lack that's making 'em look like this." [However, he never quite elaborates on what is...]
"As for the courses," He glances at the buffet line thoughtfully before answering.
"Hmm… Six. Three more before I get to the desserts, but I don't let people take clips of that for free. "
For those watching Minkyu's content from the other side of the screen, as the voracious stranger comments on his eyes, these numbers pop up at the bottom of the video:
USA: +1-844-289-0879
Korea: 1342
Live and in person though, Minkyu plays his role as both host and audience reaction. "Wow! You're really getting your money's worth," he says, tone sufficiently impressed.
"You know, in Korea there's a thing called mukbang—hypothetically, what would be your price?"
Does Minkyu actually intend on filming someone else eat? Not really—but he's curious what this guy will say to put him off.
They have those here too huh? Interesting... He thinks, putting another forkful of pasta in his mouth. Though, his attention was more devoted to the similarities between his world and this one than the prospect of actually becoming a web entertainer.
He took his sweet time finishing the bite, as he thought the question itself was confounding. As if he wanted to talk about that with a guy using him for clicks in the middle of his lunch. This was also neglecting the rapid realization that he had no idea what working wages even looked like in this world to begin with. But ultimately he remains placid, looks between the vlogger's face and the phone in hand with amusement and manages a chuckle.
"Well... I'm sure you of all people would know, it's rather poor form to share my rates unegotiated on camera like this. I mean, I could be serious! If you really want to hear, you'll hypothetically have to see me after your little show." He says with a wink.
(CSH) how is it being on a planet that isn’t dangerously polluted?
"Huh? What do you mean? I haven't been anywhere else." An innocent expression is made then, before turning to look out the port window.
"But... Hypothetically if I was, I might say: It's surprising how blue everything is. Didn't know that was possible for the sky to look like that unsim'd.* Never seen anything like it before."
* Alt Earth slang for un-simulated. Naturally occuring or 'real'.
"Mind you, Mister Han, I'm plenty hydrated! You gotta be to make this bottomless drink voucher worth it, right? Sleep is eh, could be better. But trust me, its not a lack that's making 'em look like this." [However, he never quite elaborates on what is...]
"As for the courses," He glances at the buffet line thoughtfully before answering.
"Hmm… Six. Three more before I get to the desserts, but I don't let people take clips of that for free. "
