strangetrip | Entries tagged with rocket

She liked the pink of the hotel a lot. If she had to guess, she'd say that whoever built the place kept her aesthetics in mind. Still, there were some places were pink was lacking and on a hot day like today, the pool was one of those places. Clad in her bikini, she was lounging on a pink shell floaty with sunglasses on and an umbrella drink in her hand. She casually touched the water and the water instantly turned pink like she had dumped a bunch of pink food colouring into the water.

Aphrodite let out a relaxing sigh. "Much better!" Smiling, she sipped her drink.

st_ackeddeck

It didn't take any sort of precognitive abilities to predict some kind of shenanigans on the first of April. Many of the people stuck in the bubble world of the Madonna Inn were from times and places where April Fools' Day pranks were normal, expected... (in many cases) minor annoyances. And then there were the residents who remembered the strange egg hunt from a year ago, and the sometimes confusing explanations of the two holidays falling on the same day and how that related.

Also, life at the inn could be interminable. After a while, people started hoping for some kind of strangeness to happen, just to break up the monotony of being trapped in a kitschy no-snow globe.

So, no. You didn't have to be a mutant fortune teller to expect some kind of joke being pulled. But Emma was, and even she had no idea what was coming, other than it was going to be frustrating and topsy-turny, and the visions she'd been getting from the tarot – and way more reversals than was usual or healthy in her experience – were even less clear than usual.

She definitely didn't foresee waking up without the powers that were as much a part of her as her heart. Or just as suddenly having powers she had no idea how to control. But she did, and she had*, and she was far from the only one. The same thing was happening to people all around the inn.

(*Not to worry. The singe marks should be gone in a day or so. Right?)

[Powers swap GP! Tag in. Tag around. It's a time for out and about at the inn coping (or not) with powers gained (or lost).]

st_arlord

A curse escape his lips and then a piece of metal went flying through the air. It landed on the pavement of the parking lot and rolled a foot before landing on its side. Quill stood up and looked at the beginning of his project with disdain. It was a chair welded onto a sheet of metal right now and he was currently trying to curve the next piece of metal. There were hunks of metal from various parts of the inn: an abandoned table here, a chair there, the side of the vending machine. After experimenting with some of the items, Quill discovered if he took a side of the vending machine off, it would be replaced the next day. It would be slow going, but maybe in months or a year he'd have enough metal for what he wanted to make.

"Note to self, the fridge door is useless," He said to himself as he kicked the broken metal sheet in frustration.

Building a space ship form scratch is going to take forever

st_argateman

Jack had a lot of confidence in his team back home. Despite not seeing a sign or a way out since his own arrival, Jack held out hope that maybe one of the arrival days would see the rest of SG-1 at the inn. He knew that was selfish, of course, and it was only a small part of him that wished his friends to be stuck in such a place with him. Another part of him felt certain if Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c we're here, they could find a way home quicker.

For now, Jack decided to hang out in the lobby to keep an eye on the door. It looked as if Mary had an array of cookies and muffins out as usual and he was pretty sure he saw Caroline flitting around with a welcome basket. Kitty was behind the bar ready to help anyone who was having a hard time coping.

At least if people showed up today, it would look welcoming.

st_hotflashes

Out on a patch a grass, far enough away from the Inn to be safe, but close enough so she wouldn't get any surprises - hopefully - from wildlife that might like her for a snack, Liz had set up an experiment. There were several large containers, some glass, other plastic, all with water inside of them and spaced out from one another. She had a big bag of salt and a small portable stove that she had, with the help of Alec and his strength, enclosed to create more of an oven. She wore gloves, had an apron on, and she had safety goggles on too. She sat near the oven waiting for the salt to melt - the temperature it needed to get to was high.

After some time, she took a long pair of tongs and pulled out a red hot cup. Carefully she walked over to the first basin of water and poured the liquid salt into it. The water exploded and she jumped back a little, then she laughed.

st_arkcrowblack

Anybody coming to find out what all the noise in the lobby had been about would find a girl sitting on the floor with a cat in her lap, bloodied hands stroking over its black fur.

When Yasmeen had gone away, when Sansa had gone away, Snow had managed to get herself out and away from the inn where she could let her noise out without fearing any person, or more importantly, the horses. And both those times, Kash had found her and helped her scrape herself back together. She had come so much to rely on him being there, that at first she hadn't believed it. She'd gone searching, like a child trying to grasp the meaning of dead. She'd wandered all over the grounds, gone to his room, gone to the stables, gone to the clinic, walked miles of paths. It was only then that she'd given up and asked Darryl.

Then she lost her shit.

She howled, threw anything small and breakable that she could lay her hands on, and punched the walls until her knuckles were raw and bleeding.

What was she going to do without him? Kash had always been there for her when she didn't think she could talk to anybody else. He had saved Juno. Who would help her now when any of the animals were injured or sick? Who would hear what she was saying, even when she couldn't say it? He was her friend. Perhaps the best friend she'd ever had.

This was what happened when you trusted people. They just left. They just fucking left.

And she probably would have screamed herself hoarse if it weren't for the feeling of a furry little body slinking around one of her ankles. Of course she wouldn't have been the only one left behind (which was a cruel and unfair thing to think, she was not the only person who loved Kash. She just didn't care right now). She crumpled to her knees and Socks climbed into her lap. After a long moment she began to pet him, no longer the little kitten she'd held out to Kash last Christmas. There was no peace in the silence, but she could not continue to rage with Socks holding her down. The moment he left that place, it would all rise up again. So for now, she sat there in the mess she'd made, staring at nothing, her blood running into his fur.

st_ripetail

Since the attack on the Inn, the on-and-off war between Rocket and the asshole living with his neighbor had been mostly off. Fighting the dead things together had earned a cease-fire, but those never lasted forever, and it had felt like time to end this one. It called for something new, not just another glitter-paint bomb.

That was how Rocket came to be up a tree by the pool, turning a locket on a chain over and over in his hands. Pretty but useless.

st_ripetail

Rocket decides to kinda-sorta address his issues with the English language. Illyana judges his technique. Nothing explodes.

( Beyond the media options, Rocket didn’t have much use for the library. )

st_aff

At the crest of the mountain, Coc'zac sat atop Nazu's head looking through a glass that Hotor held to his eye. Vokva sat beside them, little more than a pile of bones atop a pile of rocks, and Hafur paced behind them, holding the troops in check. They milled in the pre-dawn gloom, skeletons, wights, zombies, wraiths, and all manner of undead creatures. Periodically, Nazu swept the space behind them with their tail bowling over anyone who'd gotten too close.

The first pinpoint of light had Coc'zac's teeth chattering with excitement in his disembodied head. Today was the day he'd been planning for. Soon, soon the Inn and its occupants would be his. Nazu unleashed a heavy sigh tinged with poison and necrosis. Fortunately the troops were all dead already, and Coc'zac didn't have anything in the way of arms to hit them with.

It fell to Hafur to gesture the troops forward as punctuation to Coc'zac's 'rousing' speech, and together they crept through the portal, avoiding its fizzing and popping edges demarcated in what would be neon blue, if they could still see in color. They couldn't properly hear either, but they were aware of the noise and the danger it marked.

Once they were all through, the advance scouts, four bands of skeleton archers swept quietly as they could through the shadows to take up position around the main buildings, prepared to pick off anyone who exited--for example for a pre-sun jog. And once they'd settled into wary, silent waiting, occasionally interrupted by the pop of a joint or the clatter of toe bones on stone, the next wave rolled in finding shadows to hide in until the residents emerged with the wights taking point.The bone naga and three flameskulls slipped through the lobby doors and stealthed toward the offices, assuming to find the command center there.

It wasn't long before the invaders caught the notice of the residents, and then shouts began to echo through the grey light and journals filled with messages and reminders of siege plans. Several strongly worded messages urged the kids and those without weapons or fighting skills to head for the Temple where the Hallow spell would protect them from unholy undead things.

And so the battle for the Madonna Inn began...

st_arlord

It was a shame not a lot of people seemed to like renting the various video game consoles the makeshift library had to offer the Madonna Inn. Quill was a frequent visitor to the library, but rather took out a book. Gamora would be annoyed with him, but the video games held more interest to him. A lot of the games were new to him as they had come out after he left Earth. Quill was delighted to explore them.

Multplayer games were much more fun with people. He dragged a TV into the lobby and set up a Super Nintendo. He sat on one of the ostentatious couches and was currently playing Super Mario Kart while he waited for some challengers. On the coffee table there was also a cartridge for Donkey Kong Country and Zombies Ate My Neighbors.

st_arkintern

to: everyone

Before anyone asks, Annie is my daughter.

st_arlord

Quill sends a message after Loki!Kitten ties his shoes together

st_alksthroughwalls

Kitty sat at the bar with a cup of coffee and her notebook, watching the 'welcoming committee' make themselves busy. Liz was here, as she'd promised Kitty she would be and Kitty gave her a quick smile of encouragement.

One of the worst things about Check-In Days was that you never knew whether it'd be a whole long day of no one arriving, one spectacular fall from the ceiling and dropping dead after another, or anything in between. It made it hard to know what to do with yourself. After awhile, you got used to it and just kept on with whatever you'd do otherwise, and know that if you didn't step up for a new arrival, someone else would. But for someone not used to treating it like a responsibility to be here, especially someone with Liz's anxious need to be perfect at it, Check-In Day could be emotionally exhausting.

So Kitty made sure to have milk warmed for hot cocoa and her plans for the obstacle course handy in case Liz needed something to do with herself. Otherwise, she was working on a modification of Cerebro to see if she could start detecting new arrivals.

[ooc: Regular check-in day gathering post. If you want Kitty, ping me.]

st_ripetail

The 'boutique' was pretty much a nightmare of pink and glittery, at least in places, but the fact that the thing restocked itself was useful as fuck. Sure, you couldn't always rely on finding the same things you did before, but there was almost always something similar. And Rocket was used to repurposing and relying on junk, anyway. Junk was usually free. Nobody cared if you took their garbage, and they didn't care for long after they were blown up by what you'd turned the garbage into.

All of which was why Rocket spent a lot more time in the boutique/gift shop than most people would have expected, given that there was nothing pink and glittery about him. Except, now, a backpack which was still pink but no longer glittery, as the rhinestone-things had been pried off and store elsewhere.

As per usual, he climbed shelves and fixtures, evaluating items and occasionally shoving something into the backpack. There was a heavy emphasis on anything with clockwork or mechanisms, but also postcards, greeting cards, and clothes that had rhinestones, sequins, or beads.

st_ackeddeck

Usually when Emma couldn't sleep, she cooked. Last night had been the opposite. She'd started trying out new marshmallow variations, completely lost track of time, and spent most of the night in the kitchen instead of doing reasonable things, like sleep. She'd grabbed a nap in the wee hours, though and another after lunch, and now was wide awake.

She also had batches and batches of homemade marshmallows.

Around sunset, Jag helped her set up a table near the pool and outdoor bar, that she loaded up with the marshmallows, graham crackers and other cookies, chocolate and berries and spreads and bacon. Anything somebody might think of that would make a good s'more, from the traditional basic graham, milk chocolate bar, plain marshmallow, to bourbon marshmallow s'mores with smoky bacon. If the inn was anything like the castle, word of mouth would spread quick enough, and the food wouldn't go to waste.

Jag had started a fire right beside the table, but after having had his own fill of s'mores, he had left Emma to meeting the demand of other hotel residents. He was sticking around to make sure the fire was behaving just right, though. So he was lying on his back a little way from Emma's table, and the fire he was still controling, weaving and sculpting additional fire between his hands, keeping a distracted ear on what was going on nearby.

[tag Emma or tag Jag. food and fire, what could be better?]

st_oriedqueen

Out beyond the greenhouse and the gardens, in the orchards she'd nurtured with love, and magic, and friends, Regina had stripped her usual business casual battle armor in favor of a softer mien. She rested beneath the shade of a tree, inhabited by an elemental named Manzanita, who understood nothing of fashion, everything of fornication and fertility, and laughed like a babbling brook or syrup sap at the words she didn't understand from the fashion magazines Regina read to her beneath her boughs.

At her feet or more occasionally her head, a puppy-now-nearly-a-dog sprawled, his tail thumping when his mistress laughed unusually loudly. From time to time, inexplicably, a black kitten-cat herded by a spirit Russian Blue appeared to torment the dog. Behind them in a magically constructed paddock, a mare grazed, keeping quiet watch over the antics, and less quiet watch over the picnic basket of fresh fruit (apples, and plums, and pears, and berries and cherries, oh my) on a picnic blanket at Regina's side.

The conversation that was more of a communion took a turn for the sly when Manzanita detected thoughts of a certain wolf in her not-a-druid's mind. It wasn't words, but a suggestion, perhaps Regina might leave this issue of outer-bark wholly behind. Head back, laughing, Regina (briefly, magically) shed her clothes for a light dusting of leaves. (~~Please, let me down, Mama. I'll be good.~~)

On second thought, with a flip of her wrists to replace her clothes, she murmured, "Smelling like forest is freedom enough."

[ooc: Slow because shit is real, but hit me til I scream. Find Regina in the orchards she planted at any time during this post. Avoid seeing her naked if your fireball tolerance is low. Otherwise, fireball forecast: low. Title quote: Rumi.]

st_x5_494

Backdated May 18th: Alec comes back 'home' and talks to Peter

Backdated May 15: Alec punched Quill in the face and starts shit with Rocket

st_unaligned

Bo was feeling restless. Or rather, it seemed more than that, but that was the best way to describe it. It wasn't like Sam wasn't fulfilling her needs or that her other partners weren't either. It wasn't that at all, it just seemed as if something inside of her wanted more. Like when you just seemed to always be hungry no matter how much you have already eaten.

She was at the gym, trying to burn off the endless steam she had - Sam, poor thing, was tapped out and resting. Bo had a sword in her hand and was going through some basic moves, trying to get faster and more familiar with the weapon. If she was going to be honest, she knew how to use a lot of weapons, but she wasn't an 'expert' in any of them. She wanted that to change.

She also wanted to stop thinking about tearing off people's clothes as they walked through the door and kissing their bodies all over.

st_arkintern

Peter Parker stood outside the door to his neighbors room, took a breath, and then knocked.

Alec's backpack was gone when he finally went back up to their room and Peter knew from their last fight exactly what that meant.

The only advantage he had over then was that now he had a neighbor. When Alec was angry, most of the time he made noise. If that was the case, Rocket might have seen something -- heard something that would give some idea where he had gone or when he had gone there.

And Peter knew Alec was angry. Alec was upset even before he said that really terrible thing. All Peter could hope for was that he could find him and apologize like he should have to begin with.

Peter attempts to pull together a smile before Rocket answers the door. If he answers the door.

st_igmatized

It was a musical day at the Madonna Inn, both inside and out. Curnen had taken her usual place up on the roof and was singing charms to the sky to keep any wanderers from getting lost (though that part of it was not immediately obvious). Unrelated to that, Sunny was on the dance floor in the bar, summoning songs of her own with her knife to keep her moving before she went to do her shift at the library later. It was one of those days where if she thought about it too hard she’d start thinking about that empty bed in her shitty room and the person she most wanted to be there.

This of course eventually seeped into her magic. She knew better. Maybe she’d even wanted that to happen.

Because just once, between different pop hits and dance beats came a rather unexpected French love song. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the exasperation didn’t last. Before the lyrics started up she was waltzing. By herself and not caring how it might have looked. And for those three and a half minutes, she dared let herself hope for the slimmest chance that Orlu might come through that door.

She didn’t let herself hope too hard, though. There was admitting to feeling things and there was setting yourself up for certain disappointment. She’d lived too long with disappointment to do that to herself.

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Strange Trip

You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave

Entries tagged with rocket

Not Pink Enough (OTA)

GP: April Fools!

Project | OTA

GP: Check In at the Inn

Water Explosion Experiments (OTA)

[EP] The eye of the storm

[Rocket and Alec] escalation

[Rocket and Illyana - backdated 8/29/18] yay literacy?

Inn-world Combat: The Dread Reign

Video Game Challenge (OTA)

(no subject)

[Text to Rocket]

Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

[OTA] shopping or whatever

[OTA] S'more S'mores, Please (joint EP: Emma and Jag)

[EP] open your hands if you want to be held

[Link Drops]

Restless (OTA)

[Closed to Rocket] Rocket, man

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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December 2019

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