Prison World #3: Panultima (tw violence, torture, coercion)

[spoofer]

Characters: Ensemble Cast, maybe even you!
Summary: The third prison world in Xistentia is a terrifying subdimension where sentient people exploit each other in order to run technology that will fend off D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. The 'ruling' class, Primus, are bound to a system of coupling (see: fake dating!), legacy and nepotism, whereas the Servus are put through an elaborate media circus (see: Hunger Games). You're here to study this world. And perhaps even to free those captured.
Date(s): February 8-20
Warnings/Notes: Violence, torture, coercion

Panultima

You cursed your gods and died

The Primus Life

If you thought Earth was a tough neighborhood, welcome to Panultima. Here, life is sweet. At least, as long as you're one of the Primus class.

It's a sprawling city of wicked spires and elaborate canals, covered in a luminous, translucent shield. Rather than a circular planet resting in orbit, instead, it's a flat plane of matter suspended in space, the foundations of the buildings rooted in only a hundred feet of stone and unknown technology. But the vast majority of citizens care little for that. After all, the city has every amenity and experience one might desire.

Restaurants line the streets. Theater is at an apex in development, with a particular focus on integration of moral philosophical themes. Gondolas run the canals, whereas a railway races over the winding laser-track in the air. Fashion is diverse, colorful, characterized by wild shapes, patterns, and accessories. Food imported from worlds both thriving and dying across the multiverse. At the numerous colleges and institutes, premier technology and opera are under constant invention and reinvention.

COUPLE STUFF

Primus culture emphasizes couples. Trios. Larger groups of lovers than that, even. After all, with romantic love and loyalty to care for, and survival hanging on it... who has the time or energy to care about justice for all?

Not these guys!

In this world, the mission and pleasure roll together well. The implant picks up information, so your main job is to explore. Perhaps you and your partner might enjoy yourself a glow-in-the-dark cocktail in a smoky bar where a two-headed singer is providing the music, a tour of the massive shield generators in the sparkling complex. Or pick fruit from one of the hundreds of bonding trees in the city's central park— so named, because it requires successful completion of questions to "the newlywed game" for each before one of the luscious, sweet fruits is released from a vine.

THE SERVUS LIFE

But for the little guy, life is considerably shittier. Welcome to the arena, the fully manipulable bubble reality set up to torture the slave class. The emotions of pain, fear, anguish, and wild, adrenal victory.

Most days, it looks like a forest— incidentally, very much like Xistentia. There are dozens of hybrid creatures in it, most of which are edible, others toxic, several very dangerous. However, the ground below can change at any moment, turning into mud or belching acid baths. Or you might find yourself abruptly attacked by a bear with biological armor growing from its huge shoulders. The control room, operated by Primus, is concealed from view. Its role is to keep the environment challenging for those competing, shifting the settings of the place to advantage some and cripple others.

But the arena's programming isn't the only threat.

Instead, you have a motley host of macabre killers, other Servus locked up in here just like you. Some have survived in here for years, earning favor from audiences thanks to the amount of pure horror they squeezed out of their victims. Some of the better-known brands are the Bantam Butcher, a fallen angel whose first kills were those who took his wings, and now thrives on torture. The trapmaster seems to have control over environmental factors that rivals the control room. And the baker trio will eat the flesh from your bones if they catch you.

For infiltrators, the challenge is worse. Not only might you need to kill, survive, and explore the arena with your implant— but if you want to save the very same people who are out to murder you, how are you going to do that?

Breakout!

Several days into the mission, and that's when it happens-- the control room shuts down, under attack. And suddenly, there's pandemonium. Within the arena, some of the servus know immediately what this means— and they're willing to make a break for it, cutting each other down, crippling each other if it means that the Primus might have slower-moving people to contend with and allow them to escape. Others seem to have long since given up, failing to respond as the trees suddenly go dark and motionless, the birdsong dying into silence. After all, where is there to go? It's either D.E.S.T.I.N.Y., or to join the system that hates them, isn't it?

Are you inside the arena, or out? Are you there to help the fleeing Servus, or are you merely ready to scramble on home yourself and save your own skin?

Footnotes

1. Please ensure that threads are marked with appropriate content warnings!
2. The plotting post for this event can be found here, and the original announcement with some other details is here.

Comments

aymeric de borel ❄️ ffxiv (ota + closed)

[remarkablymodest]

the primus life (ota);

[ Era and him had discussed things prior; it would be wiser to split up and cover more ground that way. While he didn't like the idea of putting her in harm's way, he also wasn't about to doubt that she was completely capable of taking care of herself. And for as modest a man as he might appear to be, there was absolutely no denying that his experiences as a politician were better suited to the upper caste that Era had described. So it's settled.

He has some Regrets when they're actually in the prison world though. What he's presented with is something far more out of his wheelhouse than he had anticipated. All the colorful flamboyance and lavish living throws him off in the beginning. Still, Aymeric is nothing if not adaptable. He fumbles at first but after only a couple days seems to be situated rather nicely.

It probably helps that he's tall and handsome and has no shortage of options for romantic endeavors. He's technically attached outside of this reality but not opposed to playing the part if he needs to. That's why he's flashing those baby blues at the nearest person available, casual smile on his features with ease. ] What are you having? I'd be happy to order you another one in exchange for just a bit of your time.

[ He might be off the market in reality but he's certainly not rusty at this. ]

closed to era;

[ He's been playing his part. Gathering information and doing what he must to help the Servus class in his own subtle ways. It's all been going rather smoothly, honestly, until he sees the broadcast. It causes quite a commotion. The dragon woman, he hears someone say. While that's inaccurate and he knows it, the man already knows who they're speaking of and finds the nearest screen.

His eyes widen a fraction at what it displays, color draining from his face. It's Era. While he'd always been aware of the possibility of her being injured - home or here - it had done nothing absolutely nothing to prepare him for the way his heart feels like it sinks to his stomach and sits like a rock in his gut, the tension in his muscles that practically make him ache with worry. It hurts him in ways he is having a hard time fathoming to see her hurt in such a way. Her horn fractured, the pain that crosses her face and lingers in her body language after. This isn't part of the plan, he knows, but he has to do something. He can't sit here idly by.

It takes the pulling of a few strings, the money already prepared but she's brought to him once she's had enough time to recuperate. ]

Era, [ he starts, voice not betraying the relief that floods him at the sight of her before (almost) whole. She might not be alright, but he can make this better. He's going to. Before she can even say anything, the man strides over to her. He essentially lifts her up in arms not being exactly mindful of the bruises and aches she might have but hoping that the passionate kiss that graces her lips is apology enough for it. They have a lot to discuss. In a minute. He just needs to have this. He needs to have in his arms, feel that she's real to reassure him that they'll both make it out of this yet. ]

wildcard;

(( ooc: hit me up at puddingandpie for plotting anything in specific or if you have another idea! ))

janus lefevre | ota

[bangitybang]

closed to arthur;

[one last mission. one last mission, before they go home to a world of familiar monsters and love. which might seem like a weird juxtaposition, but it isn't, really, when your fella is a sex demon.

what a multiverse we live in.

but they put most of it out of their mind once they step into the incandescent warp of the transportation system and into this world. and when they do so, they come to realize that there's grief under it-- because they see arthur, decked out in the gaudier fashions of panultima, and realize this will likely be the last time they meet. they look at the way his dark hair falls toward his eyes and his eyes fall toward the loor, and their heart twists in their chest. he looks nervous, understandably. even if the implant does most of the work, the risks still seem enormous.]

Just put your arm in mine, [they tell him. it's their instinct to reassure, to take the lead, where arthur is concerned. it's been their way with him for more than a month now, since the first evening he turned up, weak-kneed and feverish with want— a welcome addition to their shower.] Take a breath and let me take you to dinner.

open;

[mostly, janus keeps their head down. the cover story is something about combat programming for the sophisticated weapons and defense system around the planet— supposedly, they're involved with providing their knowledge and understanding of murder technique to the artificial intelligences. of course, they have no actual intention of giving this horrific world anything like that, but as covers go, it makes sense. there's something about janus, the perfect balance of their stride, their meticulous attitude toward health, that tends to hint to anyone who spends time with them that their better-than-human strength and power is honed for something more than regular business affairs.

you might catch them at a bartelevised servus combat with well-hidden disgust.

and later, when all hell breaks loose and the mutants flee the arena, janus is there, accessible by a subnetwork and ready with a hijacked transport to pick you up. it's a leap in the dark, but it's one they'll make with you.]

Tony Stark | closed;

[servomotor]

[This is Tony's world.

Well, not really. Tony's world had like at least 1% less televised brutality, legally endorsed torture, and flagrant violations of sentient beings' rights. Maybe a little more than 1%, if we're being very optimistic. It takes a lot to turn Tony's stomach in a visceral way, and he's never been the type to actually need any kind of flailing emotional reaction in order to make powerful, dangerous tactical decisions about anything— but within the first two hours of coming into the world, he sees a couple of servus explode on TV, like, literally explode, and that's...

a lot.

But he hides it well. And he has the perfect partner for this undertaking with him, even if she is stepping on his feet every couple of beats as they adapt a waltz to space music at a party intended to welcome in the latest run of servus. Luckily, somebody cashed in their cluepons about how watching people literally die on giant digital screens is maybe not actually the best mood bump, even for the privileged echelons, and what's on screen instead is a showy reel of clips about D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. attacks deflected, servus who were fortunate enough to become primus, the triumphs of children born in Panultima.

He may or may not be envisioning her with her hand out, biotics charging, all bright light and terrifying, rupturing psychokinetic force, her eyes shining with righteous fury, laying waste to these categorical motherfuckers and their bullshit system. But he just smiles at her, casual, his fingers light on the edge of her backless dress.]

I'm going to dip you, [he tells her, because he's romantic like that.] Promise not to give me a military elbow in the mouth.

Barclay Odell ⛵ OC ⛵ Closed to Kenzi Malkov;

[disbands]

Not to be cynical, but this place reminds me quite a lot of my old life.

[The minute that Barclay says this, he regrets it. He was raised British and deeply traditional. He came into this world with the understanding that he was the detritus of society, parentless and poor, and that polite society wanted him out of sight and out of mind. Even after he learned to read, dress well, and kill his way to some decent credentials, he understood that humanity always had an ugly underbelly that wanted hiding. And that he was always a smudge on that belly, even if sometimes a bit of external pressure might displace him onto the ribs of the beast.

Panultima is so shiny. Huge holographic advertisement displays. Memorabilia being sold of the brave warriors in the ring, as if they aren't slaves. You can get sandwiches named after the heroic dead. It pushes him back into his old mindset. He has a beautiful girl on his arm, who deserves a man far better than he— why talk of ugly things?]

The tour is starting, [he adds, quickly. They're snooping at one of the forcefield generators, using the scanning implants in their arms. We're married as a delightful cover.] I'm-- we'll find all the darkest corners.

hanako 'rosalina' nurumi 🌹 original character (ota + closed)

[hasitsthorns]

servus (ota);

[ It comes back to her faster than she would have liked it to. Rose had known what it would mean to infiltrate this prison world as one of the lower caste but had chosen to anyway. It was fine, she told herself. It was just like going back to the war again. She could do this. That what she convinced herself until she stepped in the deadly woods with their tricks and traps and people trying to kill her at every turn.

It wasn't like the war. It was so reminiscent of the ring in ways that she didn't anticipate; the broadcasts of bloodshed, the cheers calling for more. People who only cared about money and entertainment watching on with morbid fascination. They even call her the name they did back then, the Black Rose. One of the best. She's good at this and she doesn't want to be but she isand that's what's going to keep her alive. She'll take the advantage despite the way it makes her skin crawl with revulsion at herself. She'll take it despite the way that she can't look at her own reflection for too long anymore because it's a monster staring back at her instead of the woman she's tried to be the past few years. ]

Don't, [ is all she warns to whoever is encroaching on her campsite. Whether to kill her or just to investigate, she isn't sure. ] I will kill you but I really don't want to. [ She's done that enough to last her several lifetimes. The amount of blood on her hands tears away at her soul some days. She doesn't need to add anymore. Not today. ]

closed to vanyel;

[ Even the best of them make mistakes. That's exactly what happens to Rose, she makes a mistake. Or maybe she doesn't. It's hard to tell, really, on the replay exactly what happened. The only fact that is clear is that she's hurt. Badly. It isn't long after though that she's informed she's been bought. The word makes her skin crawl; it's just like what had almost happened to her when she first arrived in humanity's hold. She was meant to be sold off and prized by some collector of rare and exotic creatures. Part of her wonders if it really would have been worse or better than the brawling and blood of the ring.

It looks like she's going to find out.

This isn't actually how she thought their reunion would go in this world. She thought it'd be something sweeter, where there'd both be happy to see one another. It's not that she isn't happy to see him but bruised, battered, and bloody leaves her looking every bit as disgusting as she feels. This is what she meant when she said she didn't deserve him. This is what she meant when she said she felt like she didn't deserve anything. ]

Hey, [ she greets, far more casually than she has any right to. She even manages to muster up a tired smile for him despite herself. ] Sorry you have to see me like this.

wildcard;

(( ooc: hit me up at puddingandpie for something specific or if you had another idea! ))

kurt wagner [nightcrawler] ❧ ota (unless labeled otherwise)

[shadowblends]

cause you're everywhere to me (open)

[coming into this crazy new technological world is a bit jarring at first. there are insane twists of buildings, weaving bodies of water, stores lining the streets in all shapes and sizes. kurt isn't entirely sure where to start at first; it's all so much to take in, but there is one thing he is sure of: his current look certainly won't be primus impressive. looking the part was going to matter for once and unfortunately, he didn't have a backup x-man suit.

so, it's a brief pop in, out and once he's more dressed for 'blending in,' he can be found waltzing along down the streets, visiting theaters, shops, and restaurants. the teleporter's more than a little adventurous, which isn't such a bad thing, yet maybe he happens to bump into you while flitting about, stumbling back with a quick,] I'm sorry! [before immediately moving to help pick up anything that might have fallen.

or, perhaps you end up in a gondola seat beside a wide-eyed blue boy, the heart-shaped end of the tail he has draped across his lap idly flicking with excitement. once the boat begins a more promising notion toward moving, he turns, addressing whoever has sat beside him with fervor.] Isn't this amazing? I've never been on a boat before!


[although, after chatting with kavinsky, there is also the chance of catching him during later times where he'll be rescuing those from the gladiatorial battles. considering his mutation, he has the ability to get people to safety, especially beneath the cover of shadows.

he'll be doing his best to avoid any actual fighting during search and rescue, although there is always the chance.]

when i close my eyes, it's you i see (closed to loki)

[when he finds loki, nightcrawler is carrying an odd bit of self-confidence with him as he approaches. maybe it's the way his hair is styled, sides smoothed back, front swept up out of his face in a way that kurt's never thought to try. dark hair streaked with blue had been his only thing first, but styling? who would've thought a spritz here and there of hairspray could make such a difference?

there's a chance it's also what he's wearing, a complete contrast of his usual jogging pants and an oversized hoodie. he steps up onto the sidewalk in front of the god, shoulders rolled back, spine ramrod straight and a broad grin stretched across his face.] Fancy meeting you here, [he greets, voice lilting with playfulness.]

you're everything i know (closed to aoba)

[running into the familiar blue-haired male wasn't something he'd planned; they hadn't seen each other since the gala and this time, he's slightly less anxious and feeling far more positive this time around.]

Aoba! [he calls from the opposite street, hand cupped around his face. then, he raises the same limb, giving an enthusiastic wave before heading over.

the easy bob and weave between people has been practiced many times now. he shouldn't be hard to pick from the crowd, still clad in stark white with a splash of holographic silver glitter beneath the coat from his earlier visit with loki.

once he frees himself from the group, he continues forward, only pausing when he believes he's a respectable amount of distance away where they can talk without disrupting the foot traffic, but not to the point where they're uncomfortably close.] Hey, are you busy?

that makes me believe i'm not alone (closed to kavinsky)

[after he gets the message from joseph, a bench is where he suggests they meet-- with a little tree hanging over the spread of one of the canals, dropping sweet smelling flower petals onto the surface below. kurt is leaned over the railing, head tipped, idly watching the blossoms drift on as he waits.

he isn't sure what the dream thief has for him and honestly, he's worried to think about it when he remembers the other 'gifts' he's been given throughout the past week or so. golden sex toys, scooters with vibrating seats, flowers that moaned. (okay, he'd laughed at that one afterward, but that's beside the point) he's nervous, yet also not, because as time progressed, so did the the gifts.

starting with the making up of the oddly sexual foliage. this time, they made a high-pitched giggle that kurt couldn't resist snorting at, even if he'd covered his face in a pathetic attempt to stifle the noise anyway. then, it was these good-looking shoes (hadn't he seen them before in one of the store windows?), followed by a few drinks ... then things began to click into place: kavinsky was. trying?

and while he should be ecstatic beyond belief, he can't help the fluttery feeling in his belly that he's wrong, maybe kavinsky is still just putting on a front for the primus, but.

if that were the case, why wouldn't he have kept giving him the more ridiculous stuff?

he heaves a breath, turning on the ball of his foot and slumping onto the edge of the seat, one hand adjusting the coat of his outfit (sans collar), the other rifling through his hair. it's not as neat as when he was with loki and aoba; the sides are fine, but the bangs are disheveled, hanging down in his face. makes for a good way to hide once the other boy does show up, though.]

wildcard

[ooc: or come at me with something of your own!]

[dothelokimotion]

[ To his credit, Loki doesn't laugh, even if the light in his eyes is dancing with amusement. He's not wearing anything special, though his trademark leathers and cape is no longer to be found. Instead Loki is sporting a suit with a scarf hanging around his neck. ]

Indeed. A fortuitous coincidence.

[astralera]

[ While damage to her horns doesn't cause Era any pain - there are no nerves in them - having one viciously smashed apart from where it connects to her skull most certainly does. It was far from the worst pain she has ever endured, but it left her dizzy and physically off balance; head tilted too much to one side as she works to compensate for the change in weight.

Thor hadn't been his right mind and Era will never blame him (has already forgiven him), yet none of that changed how disadvantaged she was afterward. Balance thrown and hearing halved, she could no longer judge where sound originated from nor dodge effectively. Not even the Echo could help her.

So it's a relief when she learns she has been 'bought', knowing immediately that Aymeric would be behind her freedom. Era doesn't allow herself to think about whichever poor soul need take her place in the arena. Her life is, unfortunately, too important to risk - Eorzea depends on her, and Era needs to survive by any means necessary.

She receives cursory medical treatment after being freed, lessening the severity of many of her injuries. Her skin is littered with deep bruises both large and small, retreating under scales that are chipped and askew. The dark colourating is a distinct contrast to her pallid skin and ivory scales.

The sound of Aymeric's arrival causes Era to look first in the wrong direction - instinctually looking to where her remaining horn told her the source was - before her mind takes over and tells her to do the logical thing and look to the door.

She exhales slowly at the sight of her partner. Her whole body seems to slump into itself; shoulders sagging and tension leaving her limbs as the feeling of security Aymeric brings washes over her.

His arms are more than welcome - a comfort Era yearned for while in the arena. There is little pain from it, for she had been forced to swallow at least a token amount of medication to ease her aches. A fact that is mildly discomfiting but she'll survive.

The kiss is only slightly less welcome and Era responds to it clumsily. ]

[shadowblends]

[a fine suit like that might not be anything special to loki, but to kurt, there couldn't have been more of a serendipitous moment. he tucks one hand into his pocket, fangs at full gleam and tail flicking with excitement.]

Funny, [blue starts, reaching the free limb out so he can motion over loki's scarf.] We're both dressed up with nowhere specific to be, I assume. [and hopefully, he doesn't look like a fool.] How would you feel about going for that coffee? Or tea, if you prefer.

[dothelokimotion]

[ The blue, as always, catches his eye, causing a fain furrow in his brow which he dismisses quickly enough. The lines and swirls don't help either, reminding him of his own. ]

I would not mind trying the coffee.

Eclipse | Jailbreak! | OTA

[outshiny]

A. PLANNING

---

[ There's been days of work, days of gathering intelligence. F.A.T.E.S had sent them here with a mission, but Marcos is singularly uninterested in that. He's blending in like he'd been told to. He's pretending to be Lorna's husband, which, actually, is not such an easy thing considering what's going on with them. And he has been looking for information, but his focus is on one thing in particular.

He'd promised he wasn't going to get involved in this war. That was before he'd heard there were people enslaved because of it.

Rumours have circulated around the infiltrators. Plans are being laid to attack the arena, to free those inside. Today, Marcos and Lorna are at 'their' house, and anyone who's willing to involve themselves in this is there with them. Marcos leans over a chart on the table, a blueprint of the arena's controlling facility. ]

Okay. So the arena itself is a bust. It's locked down to keep them in, which means we aren't breaking through without a miracle. But every piece of their tech is managed through the control room. We take that, it's not a prison anymore. We can open every door.

[ Providing they can get into the system. Providing they can get into the room containing the system, and past any security along the way. And providing they can take control at the right moment to let the Servus take advantage of it. Providing, providing, providing.

Marcos leans over the table, palms down. ]

We're only gonna have one chance. We mess this up, we won't get another shot at it. Best case, we end up in there with them. Worst case, we don't even make it that far.

Thoughts?

B. EXECUTION

---

[ The day of the break-in is upon them. Marcos feels charged with nervous energy. He can feel his power beneath the surface of his skin, thrumming in his hands. He always gets this way before a job. He always has.

The plan is to get inside, drawing as little attention to themselves as possible. They need a clear run at the control room. The guards blocking the entrance are the first problem,
armed with weapons. There's a serious of magnetic scanners and searches waiting for them beyond the door. They have to take it, and take it fast.

Marcos meets Lorna's eyes, then moves into view with his hands outstretched. As the guards start to raise their weapons, a light bright enough to white out the entire area flashes out of his hands. To anyone unprepared, the light is momentarily blinding, buying them the seconds they need to get past the guards and deal with the scanners. Marcos moves fast, trusting that he won't get there alone. ]

[moshennik]

This nothing like my old life. [ This place was like the life she was always on the other side of the glass from, nose pressed up to, wanting to steal every sweet morsel for herself. As she grew older, she resented that lifestyle, did as much as she could to take advantage of the rich and help herself survive.

It reminds her of something the Fae would do, her people now. Watch others fight for their entertain, watch lessers suffer and murder and... He speaks again and she tries to keep the bitterness from riling up the bile in her stomach. They are here for a reason.

She holds his arm and slaps on her con girl face beneath her bleached blond wig.]

Let's get this bish started.

[shadowblends]

Marvelous! [he notices the wrinkle of loki's brow, but makes no mention of it. instead, kurt shifts so he's standing next to him, one hand hovering near the other male's elbow while he gestures a ways down the sidewalk.]

There's a coffee shop just down the road here where we can go.

[pillz]

[it's probably just a front. probably. kavinsky is probably just a lot of things— mean, careless, callous, casually cruel, indifferent to the joy and suffering of others. he's probably just some asshole in skinny jeans. he probably doesn't care, really, except to get funny butts for stupid jokes, and to experiment with his power, spoilt even when he isn't being actively sadistic.

except

except that doesn't entirely explain it, when he glances over at kurt in his iridescent glory and says nothing, just watching him a moment. then his eyes are back on the glittering, magnetic hovertech road, their frictionless craft whisking them sleekly forward into the night. but he glances back again the next moment, and neither sadism nor being spoiled explain it, either, when he asks,] You okay, man?

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki gestures with his hand. ]

Lead the way.

[shadowblends]

[and so he does, guiding them both down the path with a bounce in his step, hands finding their way back into the pockets of coat.]

So, what do you think of this place?

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki glances around, cocking an eyebrow. ]

The coffee shop or this location?

[shadowblends]

This location, of course. [he shakes his head, raising a hand to cup around his face and stifle a laugh.]

We haven't made it to the shop yet.

[shadowblends]

[at first, his attention had been focused on the peculiar thing they were currently gliding around on, astonishment clear in the way his golden eyes lit up. it'd been awkward, stabilizing himself on the board behind kavinsky, arms secured tightly around the shorter boy's waist, but as they continued moving along, kurt became more relaxed, shoulders slumping beneath a comfortable weight.

and then, he's being asked if he's alright, which reminds him that he really isn't.]

I'm fine, [is what he answers with though, pressing closer, head raising up so he can rest his chin atop kavinsky's hair.] Thinking too much.

[dothelokimotion]

It is . . . [ Much like Sakaar without the constant junk falling from the sky. Similar rules, similar people. ] . . . nostalgic.

[shadowblends]

Familiar, then?

[kurt briefly strides ahead, grasping the door handle and pulling, motioning for loki to go ahead.]

[dothelokimotion]

Yes and no.

[ He shrugs loosely, a harmless gesture. ]

My world is nothing like this and yet . . . there are similar veins that run across the stars. I'd be blind not to notice the patterns.

[shadowblends]

[he cocks his head to the side, curiosity dancing in those brilliant eyes.]

Well, there has to be something that connect them all or else we wouldn't be here, right?

[dothelokimotion]

[ He nods. ]

All worlds are connected. I used to be able to travel from one to the next with ease.

Ignacio | OTA

[sadico]

closed to husbands (Mika & Ion)

[ Ignacio was fascinated by the Bonding Tree. Not because of the fruit it provided, but because of what it represented: A place where couples would answer questions of their loved ones and be rewarded if they were corrected. He craved that kind of bond with his husbands, regardless of the fact that they were merely posing as such.

He left their shared home early in the evening to shop, then returned with a box which he carried as he requested the presence of his husbands in their living room. There, he sat cross-legged on the plush rug set in front of a roaring fireplace. Surrounded by luxury on all sides, Ignacio in one of his stylish outfits, he opened the box to reveal what he purchased.

Inside were two dice, one with numbers up to 6 and another with letters up to F. There was a folded piece of paper inside, which he revealed to be a list of various questions. It was then he spoke, his voice smooth and accent thick. ]

Now, my husbands. I believe we should get to know each other better, yes? Who will roll first?

open to all (tour)

[ Curious of the city, the Primus could often be found on one of the many tours (only at night). Yes, it was part of his apparent 'mission' to acquire data of his surroundings, for whatever purpose, but Ignacio wasn't quite as interested in that. In fact, he was more delighted by the instructions which D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. had provided him: Expose a Primus to be sent down to the Servus class. A fascinating concept, one he'd find amusing if he found a victim which suited such a fate.

It was easy to run into him in a variety of ways: From window shopping, to strolling down the main street, even to the tops of the tall buildings to admire the view below. He wasn't much of a party person, but he could be discovered near where many people gathered just to observe them if nothing else. ]

open to all (audience)

[ One of his favorite activities in this new environment was watching the Servus class during the games. The Primus certainly didn't skip on venues, and one could purchase a seat in a grand viewing theater to enjoy the view of the lower class destroying each other. He could be found, dressed to the nines, in one of the front row seats with a pleased expression on his face.

Alternatively, he could be found exiting or entering one of those said venues, an obvious connoisseur of torment and torture. However, he was always up for a conversation or two. ]

wildcard

[ Make up your own starter! All are welcome! ]