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» TEST DRIVE #001

TEST DRIVE #001

( 0 0 1 ) » WAKE UP

Were you asleep or were you unconscious? It doesn't matter: when you come to, there's an odd taste in your mouth and there's a low-level mechanical hum in the air. Your head hurts and you feel nauseous. You aren't anywhere you know: everything around you is metal, from the floor you lie on all the way to the ceiling. You are dressed in a jumpsuit you definitely weren't wearing before.

"We tried to save the world. I think— I think we did the opposite."

The message repeats on a loop. If you look for its source, you find a comms device on the floor next to you. The logo on its wallpaper says REVERIE TERMINAL. Upon closer inspection, you find the same logo on your jumpsuit.

Welcome to your new home. What choice do you have but to explore your surroundings?

( 0 0 1 . 1 ) » WAKE UP WHERE?
When you wake up, you find that you're not alone. But more importantly, you find that you're in a closet. An empty closet, bar you and your new companion. It's small, cramped, and there is no door that you can see. The ceiling is low, there is barely any lights, only some coming from the tiny flashlight clipped to your suit's shoulder. You cannot be sure that there is any air coming in to the room.

Are these grooves in the wall supposed to mean something?

( 0 0 2 ) » OBSERVATION DECK

There were no windows in the corridor you woke up in and no windows in any of the crew quarters you might have checked for occupants — but there are plenty of windows on the uppermost level of the station, deck 1. In fact, there are windows from floor to ceiling all along the circumference of the station's circular deck, and it's possible to walk along it all. What it shows is a strange solar system you've never seen before and a planet that might resemble one you know, but certainly isn't the same.

You're in space. You don't know where you are. Neither does anyone else.

( 0 0 3 ) » BAR

On deck 3, you find the bar. Tucked away from the crew quarters, it's dimly lit, there are bar stools thrown down on the floor and what looks like some very old drink spills, crusty and dark against the bar top. But there is alcohol here, or at least, what you think is alcohol, in bottles with faded labels, most of them indecipherable. Take a drink, get drunk, start a fight, or start a party? You're stuck on this station, might as well make the most of it, right?

( 0 0 3 . 1 ) » VIRTUAL
But the alcohol isn't even the most interesting part of your discovery (depending on who you are, of course). No, what catches your interest is a second, smaller room off from the main bar room, which looks to be some kind of arcade. There are a few VR sets lined up against one of the walls, and surely, they can't be working, right? Nothing is on this rust bucket. And yet, if you put it on, the display comes to life.

It's a pretty simple HUD, and when you move around in reality, you move around in the virtual world you've just entered. It's a luxurious world, full of brightly, saturated colors, making it just a little obvious that it isn't real. Ahead, there is a jungle, a temple, and a city. You can play around, slay some monsters, have some fun, but you can feel yourself growing hot, like the VR helmet is burning your forehead.

And when you try to take it off, you find that you can't. The HUD glitches, the sound cuts off to a blaring alarm, and an error message appears, in glowing, blinking red letters: FINISH THE MISSION. Will you, despite not knowing what the mission even is, or will you fight to get the helmet off?

( 0 0 4 ) » MALFUNCTIONS

(cw: body horror, bodily functions, gore, blood, death)

The fabricators function well enough, until they don't. One day, one moment, everything's all right — the food doesn't generally taste amazing and sometimes downright awful, but it's nourishing and filling no matter what your dietary needs — and the next, things go a little haywire.

In short, the fabricators are malfunctioning.

Oh, they're still producing food that looks and tastes much the same as before, but now there are some unexpected side effects.

NB: Characters may experience any of the following side effects: nausea ranging from slight to debilitating, the sensation of being happily and affectionately — but not overwhelmingly — drunk, bone-deep exhaustion and weariness that makes it hard to move, or repeated hallucinations of loved ones screaming for help, reaching out to characters and leading them down abandoned corridors or being killed by unseen forces.

The extent to which characters are affected is up to players, as is whether you'd prefer to play this more lightheartedly or tackling more serious themes. If the latter, please provide warnings in subject lines where necessary.

( 0 0 5 ) » NETWORK

The comms device you found next to you when waking up connects to a station-wide network, REVERIE NET. You have the option to post video, voice or text messages.

What will you share?

( 0 0 5 . 1 ) » NETWORK USERNAME
When you first turn on your communication device, it requests for you to pick a username to identify you on the network. It can be anything you want. However, as you try to input a username in your wristband to access the network, you get the following message, along with a small, but irritating, warming sound:

this username is already in use.

What does this mean? Is there other people around? Were there other people around?

( 0 0 6 ) » WILDCARD

The station features a variety of locations, from sleeping quarters free for the claiming to a dirty swimming pool and a bar that still holds alcohol (though some of the bottles seem to have been opened a while ago).

Go wild, but don't wreck the place. It's your home for the foreseeable future, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The pit of Akira's stomach does an unruly flip when he first enters the fitness room; the sight of what probably stood to be a track around the far edges of the large room was an anchor dragging through a fine sediment of recent traumas that he was trying to avoid, as there was more than enough to be worried about with what the fuck was happening in the right-here-right-now.

But the weight equipment wasn't completely miserable; he takes note of this as he wanders into the room, shoulders slightly hunched and and hands shoved into the pockets of the faded blue coveralls he'd woken up in. His visual scan of the place hadn't yet turned up Ryuji, so the guy actually calls out to him before he notices him; Akira gives a small jump before focusing his attention on the object of the stranger's dare.

He approaches it with a few long strides, sloooowly leaning his tall body over the half-full pool. And then he sniffs it. It's audible. He's embarrassing.

He recoils from it, face scrunching up in displeasure, and it's important to keep that in mind because it runs completely parallel from how he actually responds:] You know, I'd usually take you up on that, but, [he turns here to face the other guy with a crooked, toothy grin,] don't really know how much good your yen would do me here, right?

[Which is too bad. He's too busy thinking about how much food 2000 yen could buy at the konbini. Fuck, he's so hungry already...]

[It's almost uncanny how Ryuji can tell a runner when he sees one. That frame- tall, muscular in all the right places and lean enough to make a killing on the field- it resonates with him in almost too-sad way. Maybe in another life, in another time, he'd have the pleasure of sharing the room with someone like Akira in a friendly sort of way... but his running days are long gone.

Which, of course, leaves him with a bitter view of the whole sport and a burning sensation to shit all over the situation with everything he's got. Maybe he should've taken up swimming instead. A small, furtive, all too sharp smirk meets his newfound explorer in turn.]

Okay, okay. Aight, you got me, dude. [What the hell do you trade in space, anyway? Naming rights to the star systems?

Too damn nerdy. Also, Akira... don't sniff that. For your health. And Ryuji's... he doesn't know devilman CPR.]

I'll trade you a secret, then. How's that?

[It was funny because it was not running that had given him the body he currently inhabits. The Akira of a week or two ago (by his perception of linear time) would've cut an entirely different figure: willow-thin enough to risk being pushed over by a stern breeze, perhaps three or four inches shorter, all held together by a thimble-full of self-confidence that got him from place to place but never with much style or conviction. Turns out anyone could reach a place of peak physical form if they danced with devils, lured out by an atmosphere of light and color and noise and blood and sexuality, rioted by the luridity of human life (and death). All you had to do was gamble your life on the possibility that your human heart could win out against the possession of a demon. Just succeed on that and you're golden.

Ryuji's not all wrong, though. This body of his can run, far faster than a standard human might be able to. But that was just one of the most boring things he could do.

Akira hums in the back of his throat in reply, attention once gain drug back into the depths of what stood to be a pool. Is there shit growing in there? You wouldn't think of something like that out in space, huh. Wasn't space all about the total dearth of life? Nah, nah, it was probably just his imagination.

You don't want to know devilman CPR.]

Mmn? [He looks back up to Ryuji at that, eyes sharp and bright; that sounds a little more interesting.]

Well, how do I know you won't back out once I jump in? There's not a hell of a lot stopping you from running once I do it.

[Well, besides the fact that Akira could catch him within five to ten seconds, but he's keeping that to himself for now.]

First of all, I'm a man of my word, and my mom didn't raise me to be an asshole who promises stuff like a politician and never deliver.

[True to form, he's still the same momma's boy he's always been. Akira doesn't know how bluntly earnest Ryuji is, how horrible he is at lying, and how much it burns his ears when someone tries to tell him a secret. He always prefers to be open, like playing poker with all the cards face up, no matter how much anyone else wants to keep theirs hidden from plain sight. That his own merits and ability to win at something should speak for itself.

Which is why he's a horrible thief and half surprised that the entire world didn't know who he was. Or maybe they wouldn't believe him. Assumptions about Ryuji always seem to miss their mark.]

Ryuji, by the way.

[He looks over the pool, looks back at his newfound friend. There's something about the both of them that just seems so reckless, like either of them were more apt to jump in just to prove themselves, and it's kind of comical that Ryuji's not halfway taking his shirt off as they continue the back and forth.]

Did you find the mess hall yet? By the way, that's my secret.

[You can also learn a lot about a dude by their stomach. And, you know, the fact that they don't take off running when whatever perceived advantage is eliminated.]

Anyway, let's find out if that shit's gonna kill us or give us super powers.

Hmmm...

[With a thumb and a forefinger at his chin, scrutinizing Ryuji's expression, searching for traces of humor or duplicity. There wasn't much of anything like that in his tone of voice, and he seemed genuine by way of demeanor as well. Alright, then. He likes that about a person. Secrets lately have become a big part of Akira's life (an uncomfortable part, but a necessary one, for many reasons), but it's all a bit awkward for him; he's always tended towards being straight-forward and earnest as well, not wanting the complications that came with deceit.

In the end, he accepts his assurances with a nod, his hand dropping to his side. Ryuji, huh? Akira decides immediately that he likes this guy. Call it a gut instinct, and he's learned quickly as of late that he should trust those when he has them.]

Akira. [By way of introduction.

His attention seems immediately incited at the mention of food. Yes, he was absolutely starving (and had been ever since he woke up here), so you got him on the hook now, Sakamoto. Suuure, he could probably find the mess hall himself if he decided to go looking for it, but now it's all a part of the fun. Besides, shouldn't you be investigating things that are weird? The nasty pool water certainly fell under that umbrella. They were doing this for science.

Akira's grin stretches a little wider as Ryuji responds - you'd be surprised what kind of things could give a guy superpowers, dude. Of course, Ryuji would know that for himself...]

If it's the first one, I'm going to haunt your ass.

[Now, the pool is maybe six feet... ten feet deep, at most. Half-full, that means somewhere between three and five feet. As much as doing something stupid like a cannonball would be fun, he wouldn't want to risk it being a lot shallower than anticipated - so he just, as casual as if he were walking down a hallway, walks over the side of the pool. After a short fall he lands with a splash!, bending his knees a bit to absorb the fall. Turns out the water's about four feet deep where he landed, just a bit past his waist.

It's... it's kind of gritty and grimy-feeling, but he's not dead yet. He looks up to Ryuji.]

Well, I'm not dead yet, [he calls out to him.]

Dude, it's usually my ass that does the haunting.

[As usual, butt jokes. Listen, he doesn't even think twice that any of that could be an innuendo, he's just making a sweeping statement about the state of his flatulence, but hell, it's true, and he's being a bro by warning Akira beforehand. Because that's what good friends do. There's a smile that creeps up his face, devious in nature, as he watches Akira jaywalk into the pool.

Science experiment complete, he nods as there are little ripples that become bigger from the outskirts of his impact site. Still doesn't look healthy, but the best things in life usually aren't. Noted- it's not that deep, and it doesn't have a swirling abyss of pain somewhere at the bottom.

He half expected an aquatic venus fly trap to be there, even if it was just to show off and save Akira from it, but alas, nothing other than the sweet smell of swampwater and the wholly saddened face of a bottle blond staring at what looks like a huge cleanup effort that needed to be underway. Ryuji starts looking around for pool nets, the type that you can use to skim the top.

Ah. Perfecto.

Up against the wall, he claims his stake on a long, extending pole and brings it down off its hook. Who would've thought a pool could exist in deep space?]

Yooo! [He waves the pole in the air to get his attention, making it look like a lance of some sorts, and then wanders closer to the water.]

Guess we coulda used this, huh? [Ryuji smiles as he drops the net, gently at least, right on top of Akira's head. Time to swap the surface of the water for undesirable objects.]

[That's... a bit of a head-scratcher, Ryuji. Akira has to give it a long, hard think for a moment before he catches onto the edge of what he means, eventually reeling it in to appreciate it with a snort of a laugh. Yeah, it was a good warning to have, and he'd take it into personal advisement, even though he thinks it's pretty low on his laundry list of things to be concerned about on this space station they suddenly find themselves all imprisoned on.

The water in this pool is way higher on that list. Though, as he now stands in the middle of it, he supposes its bark is worse than its bite. It smells terrible and feels kinda weird, but he doesn't feel himself immediately overcome with some sort of new and exotic disease. That's got to be a victory in and of itself, right?

He actually probably wouldn't mind some kind of massive aquatic venus fly trap to try to wrestle with him. Tearing something like that apart might actually do him well as at least one outlet for his frustration at being cooped up in this place.

Akira is slowly wading through the pool when Ryuji returns; it's mostly absent-minded, but he's wondering if there's anything else to this thing than just it being kinda gross -

And then he turns to face Ryuji, so he could find context for whatever he's saying, and he gets a face-full of pool net.] Mngh! [That's almost worse than the water.

A long, slow, fiendish smile creeps over Akira's features. Bad move, dude.

Because, in one quick and fluid motion, he reaches up and takes hold of the pole attached to the net currently encompassing his head and gives it one sharp tug, aiming to land Ryuji right next to him in the drink.]

[At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. To be fair, most of the hairbrained ones that Ryuji has typically do, but this one had to be particularly made of the stuff of dumb cause and effect that even he shouldn't seen ahead. Not talking about playing a chess match and getting yourself stuck in a corner between a queen and a bishop to throw your king down. But just not pushing a pawn into an adjacent opposing cross diagonal for no good reason other than to just be captured.

Because Ryuji gets captured. Hard. As Akira tugs on the pool swabber, the blond hand't expected the jut of movement to be a) so quick and b) so powerful, and unfortunately, it catches his bad leg completely off balance, propels his body forward until...

A belly flop in the pool of hell.

This isn't how he wanted to be dragged by a devil.]

GURGHMMMGNMMMM

[Gross, that shit got in his mouth. Some of it even swallowed, which might end up in space fungi growing in his stomach and cutting through his esophageal lining, but, fuck, right now all he has to do is get upright and gasp- ah, there's the air, there it goes filling his lungs.

The netting lays calmly on Akira's head and Ryuji is just. Aghast. Horrified. Stupefied. Taking a few steps forward, he grits his teeth and splashes a healthy fistful of the sludge right at his face.]

YOU COULDA KILLED ME!

[Truth be told, Akira hadn't given the action much thought either before he did it. If he had, perhaps he would have considered how nasty the water was and how he had jumped in feet-first, so that he hadn't gotten any splashed up onto his face or into his mouth. He would've considered that pulling Ryuji into the pool wouldn't have afforded him such a graceful entry, and that he would probably be experiencing the worst of the pool in a way that he hadn't.

But it'd been a flash decision, and so now they both pay for it. Ryuji in the obvious way, but Akira also when he watches the guy fall face-first into the grey-green water.

When Ryuji resurfaces and turns to face the one who had condemned him to such a fate, he would find Akira with one hand clasped over his mouth, apparently attempting to decide whether or not he regretted what had just happened or found it hilarious. Apparently both? The guy's shoulders are shaking in quiet, barely-contained laughter even as there's a tightness around his eyes that looks vaguely sympathetic, peering at Ryuji through the holes in the pool net still draped over his head.

He's just dropping his hand to reply when Ryuji splashes him. So, at least he gets his revenge? Because Akira is spluttering and gagging at the water that'd just gotten splashed right down his throat when the blond roars at him.

Through some subsiding coughing:] I'm - I'm sorry, dude, it was - a spur'a the moment thing. [He's mostly recovered by this point, besides the fact that his hair is dripping and he seems to have a thin green film plastered over part of it. There's a hint of a residual crooked smile on his face, but otherwise he looks pretty sincere.] Swear-to-god, I just forgot about how gross the water was and thought it'd be pretty funny in, you know, like, a normal pool situation.

[This is coming from the guy who'd picked up and bodily thrown his friend, still in a leg cast, into his pool. It's instinctual, man.]

[Aside from what questionable things are in store for Ryuji somewhere... down the line (he might look back at this moment and wonder if this is where he picked up his wiry space-TD where something embedded itself into his cheek), and despite how absolutely disgusting the water tasted, he goes to take a step forward to shake some sense into Akira, only to see him, still with the net on his head, looking like a caught fish, and the bellowing laughter that comes forth is sweet, and encouraging.

Like he was back home in Tokyo, and this was just some weird, gross pool that hadn't been cleaned out, and he was hanging out with one of his thief friends just before a heist. That feeling rips through him like ice daggers to the chest, and makes him softer around the edges. He wants to stay angry at him, but he can't find it in himself to do so.]

You're nuts.

[It's a compliment.

Ryuji approaches, wading through the literal mud, and lifts up on the pole to get the mesh off of his head. A perfect spot for him to stand, hands at his hips and lean in to inspect the other a little bit better. He did promise to tell him where the mess hall was, but... man, this brings up a whole new level of complicated revenge needs that has him wanting to fuck with Akira on every battlefield he knows possible.

But he also sees that thick, green filmy substance there, and ugh- oh god- he reaches forward and straight up plucks it like a cobweb away from his head, feeling a little remorse for the fact that they were still in here to begin with.]

Yo, I'm surprised your guyliner didn't run in the water. Must be some expensive brand, huh?

[Dunk him.]

[Space-TD... I love it.

Even drenched and covered with slime as he is, partially reeling from getting some very questionable swamp water splashed down his gullet, he's still cracking up, unable to scrub from the backs of his eyelids the image of Ryuji hitting the water face- and belly-first. If he were actually hurt, the situation would be much different, but it didn't seem there was any bigger hit than his ego and his hygiene. In that case, in Akira's eyes, it was all free game.

He's trying to brush the sludgy water off of his face when Ryuji approaches, looking up through the finger-spaced streaks on his face and the holes in the pool net and giving the other young man a wide, toothy grin.] Yeah, I know.

[He takes it as a compliment.

By this point Akira's managed to get most of the stuff off of his face, but he lacked the perspective to see the damage that had been done to his hair. He grows still when Ryuji reaches out, looking off to the side to see what it was he'd separated from him. Gnarly. He looks up to the blond, eyes bright and grateful.] Thanks, dude. [He considers trying to clean up the rest of his hair the best he can, but... he decides he might just make it worse, and leaves it for the inevitable shower he'll have to take after all of this.]

Hm?

[He'd dunk him if he had any inkling that it was a joke, but he doesn't. As it is, he's just confused.] What are you talking about? I don't wear that stuff.

[That doesn't make sense. This absolutely looks like a kid who got dropped off in the middle of Akihabara, strutting around like he was either a hard core punk or someone that was trying to emulate someone else. His eyebrows curl inward at the crux of his forehead and upward, a little surprised at the lack of ownership to his on-point-makeup.

What's personal space anyway?

Ryuji doesn't know what it is, that's for damn sure, and he raises a thumb up to touch the crease of Akira's eye. Pulling away- no smudge at all, he looks at his thumb with a little bit of incredulity. So... it's a part of him, huh? That strikes him as odd, but he drops it. He's not really into making fun of the way people look just for the sake of a chuckle, especially not when it's a feature of their appearance, and not a choice.]

Ah, nothin'. I thought you were wearing makeup. You got really cool lookin' eyes. [Because he's half DEVIL half MAN, but, details.] A...anyway.

I think I'm about to drown. [That dark smirk. It can only mean one thing.]

[Unfortunately, Ryuji, when it comes to demons, very few things make actual sense. Turns out when you successfully fend off a demon lord trying to possess your body, you end up being able to naturally rock a punk goth look without really even trying. Maybe part of it was subconscious, like, he'd never really turned towards the darker side of the spectrum of his wardrobe before this, but now he found it natural to be leaving the house in as much black as he could. Aesthetic, you know? You had to look the part.

Well, fortunately, Akira didn't really give a damn about personal space either. He watches Ryuji incredulously as he tests the corner of his eye, his mouth tugging down in a vague frown. More annoyed at him not trusting his word than his actual experimentation.

He's about to demand whether or not the guy has a problem with the way he looks when Ryuji continues, stopping the words midway to his throat.] Oh. [People commenting (complimenting?) on his new appearance is still pretty weird to him. He gives a flickering smile.] Uh, thanks, man.

[He takes the pool net off of his head finally, holding it like a staff in one hand as he tilts his head, squinting at the blond.]

...What?

[Sometimes Akira isn't really the smartest on the draw.]

[The Uh, thanks, man is something that he'd recognize himself doing if he were complimented in the same fashion, completely unsure of what to say or do in the moment, and he realizes it was probably a little bit of a mistake to not take him on face value. It's not that he didn't trust Akira's words, it was more out of a strange fascination with it. The impulse control with this kid was such, such a bad thing for Ryuji.

But with Akira not knowing what Ryuji was really planning all along, the infinite possibilities of how to troll the hell out of him have opened pathways to entire new dimensions of pool horror. The blond trudges through the water momentarily only to pretend to slip and jump onto Akira.

You know the drill.]

HELP, I'M DROWNING!

[Except what the fuck, this dude???

Didn't budge a single fucking inch???]

[Akira peers questioningly at Ryuji as he approaches, though that look is not necessarily wary as it is just confused - he's the perfect waiting victim, but things... unfortunately don't really go well for Ryuji, who at this point probably deserved to counter-troll the guy who had gotten him into this pretty gross situation in the beginning.

But life never works out fairly, does it?

Akira doesn't move at all, except to instinctually reach out and attempt to steady the guy however he could when he "slipped," but he's otherwise entirely unaffected by Ryuji's full weight. He now gets what the guy had been trying to do and smirks at him, growling a playful,] You sure you wanna play this game right now, Ryuji?

[Because you seem entirely out of your depth.]

[Actually, he's about to be in the depths in a very non-proverbial sort of way if he keeps this shit up.]

I'm kinda startin' to feel like this is the type of game I'm set up to lose before I even try?

[This... sounds legit.

What the hell is going on? How does he have such a muscle mass if he looks scrawny and tall? Where is this power coming from. He has so many questions.]

Okay, so new plan. I'm just gonna ride you out of the pool. Deal?

[Oh my god.]

You're smart, then.

[One does not pick a fight like that against a devilman in the middle of a nasty, swampy pool without deeply regretting it.

But don't worry, Ryuji. One day you will learn. It's not too difficult to understand, though? Imagine having your Persona, but instead of summoning it to do magic or whatever, you just transform into it and just tear stuff apart with your hands.

And, oh.

...Phrasing. Akira gives a big smile.]

Hmm. Yeah, I drug you into this mess, so I guess I'll get you out of it. Deal. [He pauses a moment before turning around, gesturing.] Hop on.

[Phrasing.]

[That is definitely not the case. Ryuji is not smart, unless you're talking about the strict confines of an intellectual battle with Akira and then... yeah, Akira would probably still win. It's the moxie that Ryuji has that's his strong point. Determination and energy are enough to get you places in this world. Or something like that.]

Dude, you drugged me?

[Yeah, see?

He smiles back, anyway. Is there a euphemism here. He's missing it.]

Pony up.

[And he does. He totally jumps on. Cue the Ginuwine song.]

[Akira can only use himself as a yardstick to judge others' intelligence, okay? He sure as hell ain't gonna use Ryo - absolutely no one matches up to that guy. So here he is, and Ryuji does manage to just edge him out as far as cleverness goes, even though it's still a bit "blind leading the blind."

Or maybe not. Probably depends on the subject, and who's having the better day.

Akira laughs.]

Very funny.

[But yeah, there comes a point where the euphemisms were handled so plainly that they don't even really feel all that fun anymore. It's getting about to that point. When Ryuji clambers up onto his back, holding onto his shoulders, he advises,] hold on tight, [before getting moving. He needs his arms to climb, so Ryuji was just going to have to make sure he didn't fall backwards into the swamp.

To his demon's body, Ryuji basically weighs nothing. Akira wades through the water to the edge of the pool, crouching down for a moment before springing upwards, high enough to catch the edge of the pool with his hands. From there he just walks his legs up and hauls everything else the rest of the way. ]

Okay. We're even then, yeah? [Something occurs to him.] And you still have to tell me where the food is!

[They're drenched and filthy. This is no time for food.

But fuck is Akira starving.]

[Wow, even in introspection, we're talking about Akira's yardstick. We're certainly going somewhere with this. But yeah. The blind leading the blind is pretty much the MO here, and it seems like they're going to be stuck in this infinite feedback loop of "hey, this is a good idea (it's a bad idea)- wanna do it?" "yeah" "ok that was a bad idea" "but it was cool. hey, you wanna try this instead" - and it'll probably end up like that for a good long while until their better halves come and smack them upside the head and tell them to cut that shit out.

But left to their own devices, Ryuji is just going to do what he does best here- have a little bit of fun, keep it chill and relaxed, and just. Tease Akira to no end, even as he's guided out of the pool.

Holy shit, though, this guy's got some seriously absurd upper body strength. If this is what putting a devil inside someone can do, why didn't Seiten-Taisei make him ripped? Oh, right. Because he was a monkey who lived in the sea of consciousness and pretty much constantly had a middle finger up at the rest of the world. The two were a decent match.]

Okay. It's in the mess hall, yo. I'll take ya.

[Is he going to continue to use Akira as his personal mode of transportation? Who knows. He'll lead him to water (proverbially - that pool is still gross as fuck) and show him where he found the machines that will ruin the both of their lives.

Because food replicators can suck dick.]

[Jay, I swear to God.

But it's true. They have a dangerous sort of rapport, the kind which only mutually assures imminent destruction by a shared lack of caution and self-preservation instinct. What could possibly go wrong with these two?]

Oh.

[Said flatly once they get out of the pool, still dripping and partially covered in questionable slime. Most likely not the best shape one would want to be in, going to a place where food and drink are had, but... again, they don't always take such things into account, do they?

And the thing about this is, if Ryuji's going to make no move to get him to put him down, he just won't do it. So instead he just says,] Lead the way, [and carries Ryuji in whatever direction he points out.

Because he had pulled the guy into the pool, and he still feels sorta bad about that. After this, they're even.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

» TEST DRIVE #001

2b

sweeps you off your feet

no it's time for me to sweep you off YOUR feet

I'VE HEARD THIS BEFORE

I CAN ACTUALLY DO IT NOW... ryo doesnt need to know

yeah but ryo knows he always knows

...that's actually true yeah

forgive my temporal lapse of judgment

i would forgive u for anything jay

you are so kind to me always

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(fin?)

(fin!)