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@phasemacha (Event starter)
After taking care of some imps, Waka eventually made it to the kitchen area of the facility. Much to his disappointment, there was little in the way of fresh produce, for everything was securely packed in some sort of crude metal container.
Picking up a can, Waka looked to the label on the container, which read ‘Tomato Soup.’ It seemed that this was one of many soup cans, which filled at least one cupboard.
“...is this what they mean by ‘I am at soup’?”
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AS FAR AS HE COULD RECALL, these creatures are from a bygone age, and everything he's noticed up till now seems to SUPPORT that assumption. no plant he's ever seen in his planetology studies, not a single one. it fascinates him, this glimpse of what gaia may have looked like untouched by shinra's hands, perhaps even untouched by the cetra. there is BEAUTY in this savagery. he can't say that he wanted to be here, but perhaps here is PRECISELY where he needs to be.
but one thing confuses him, and that is the ANIMAL who approaches.
for a moment he self doubts the nature of his location, for the first thing he notices is not the cat-like creature, but the chat box that FLUTTERS between them. the words aren't even noticed, but instead an abject desire to understand just what the hell is going on! if it weren't for his strained, but not unkind relationship with red, perhaps he'd QUESTION the appearance of the cat, but instead — —
❝can ya run that by me again?❞
@phasemacha liked for a starter.
@phasemacha || E: S.H.O.R.E STARTERS 3/?
What little color he could find contrasting heavily against the dull, unsaturated atmosphere around was much of a calling card for the equally as shimmering Knight; finding himself lost throughout the twists and turns of what he’d deemed to be but a long-since used dungeon. A shudder leads to the hurrying of tiny steps, desperate as ever for company, a high need for an ear to talk off and a shield companion to fight alongside. Floating humanoid-ish form lacking the disturbing qualities of extra limbs, bloats, or otherwise unsettling contorted anatomy held his hopes high to finally finding someone just as much in a bind as himself! Except as he gets close, really close, furry features quickly catch his eye - and as much of an animal lover as he may be...
“ ...Oh! You weren’t what I was expecting to stumble across as all. ” Cats were the least welcomed in his cozy little Kingdom.
“ Well, if you’re around, then clearly someone who owns you must be close by! Tell me with your mighty meows, you poorly-dressed feline, where is your owner? They must be of the poor sort if they think slapping some tacky Plague Doctor’s hat on a cat was ‘fashionable’. Those colors barely bring out your lovely pink-lavender fur! ”
@phasemacha / event starter (volaat island)
He wants to run his hand along the broken ship. He knows little of naval warfare, most of the combat he has seen has been completely on land. He likes his feet on solid ground and absolutely loathed when he was in the air, but he supposes that this is a fine middle ground and he could bear with it should it be what is needed of him.
He scans the wreckage and settles his gaze on a small... cat? Cat human? His brows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, then opens it again. “I don’t suppose you are responsible for this disaster?”
▹ @phasemacha.
WITHOUT PURPOSE NOR ARMAMENTS, it would appear the hunter had little choice but to simply adapt; survive. his people were born for this, to welcome the unexpected for with it came opportunity-- to grow, to become better, to evolve. so he did as he was taught, albeit to his annoyance. it didn’t sit well with him to be stripped of his weaponry, to reach for something and find his hip bare or gauntlet inoperable. he could manage without, but nevertheless he felt... restless.
perched high in a tree framing a thoroughfare, one of many, he watched, and waited. it had been quiet for some time, as night fell and lulled the city to a slumber. few things were active at this hour, he noted, and whilst seated upon the topmost sturdy branch, veiled by a canopy of leaves, a foot up beside him.
a rhythmic scuff of an encroaching tread drew his heed sharply, and he flicked his head toward it. he rose to both feet, a hand grasping the branch above his head for support, as soon, something came into view-- a creature he had never before seen, unarmed. their silhouette stood stark against the cold of night, flooded with heat, and his gaze followed their passing, regarding it with a low and hushed growl. there was little point in pursuing them, particularly without his tech, so he would observe... for the moment.
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Anything you wish you could have done differently in your life?
The vast majority of things that happened in my life weren’t under my control.
Unless I believe someone who I really hope was full of shit, but in the case they weren’t, I would probably save time skipping the list and just traveling back in time to suckerpunch myself in the teeth.
I mean, I guess I also threw myself into the giant hole knowing the spider rune wasn’t working very well after having spent a few days here but I’m not sorry about that.
@phasemacha sent: Hear any good jokes lately?
“ none that i can remember all of. besides, i’ve sort of given up telling jokes... i don’t exactly have the best sense of humour. you should ask my uncle. his jokes are actually funny. sometimes. ”
@phasemacha sent: what is your character afraid of? , how many friends does your character have? , what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?
HEADCANON MEME
4. What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?
Chell doesn’t really have a lot of memories from her life before testing (being stuck in suspended animation for a dangerously-long amount of time will do that), so any memories of her childhood at all she considers to be rather significant. However, it’s hard for even her to really think that the texture of the rug in her childhood bedroom, before the orphanage, is all that important, and yet it’s one of her most distinctive memories from before. Any other memories she has from then are brief flashes, and things she’d consider important-- her parents, someone who seems like a friend (but that can’t be right, she has no friends and is unlikable, of course), things like that. Any memories at all after starting testing, however, she doesn’t consider insignificant-- since anything held a potential importance to her own survival, there was little that she discounted.
8. How many friends does your character have?
One:
And that’s not even an exaggeration to be honest. She genuinely does consider the Weighted Companion Cube her friend. While she’s met some people since arriving here that she gets along with, that she could potentially consider to be friends at some point, she doesn’t know when an acquaintance becomes a friend. And a ‘friend’ implies some level of trust. Chell doesn’t trust anyone-- and won’t until she knows them pretty well. Trusting people, even if they seemed alright, has never worked out well for her. Looking at you, Wheatley.
15. What is your character afraid of?
GLaDOS. But she’s not gonna actively admit it, and she tries very hard to act like she isn’t afraid of her. But to Chell, GLaDOS represents everything about what she truly fears-- being powerless, being unable to escape, trying and trying and trying but never truly succeeding, never reaching her goals, never truly being free. Chell doesn’t really fear GLaDOS herself-- the AI is simply the embodiment and physical form of her trauma. Not to mention, the negative voice in her head. In reality, Chell fears a loss of any control. She fears going to sleep and waking up somewhere else, or waking up and realising that years and years have gone by and everything around her is different. She fears things happening, things changing, and being unable to do anything to escape or to fight back. She fears helplessness, because deep down she knows that there will come a point where she can’t push through. There will be a test she can’t solve. There will be something she can’t survive. She denies her own weaknesses, compensating with sheer stubbornness, but she knows that there is an end at some point. While that fear could easily take a nebulous form, in Chell’s mind it often comes in GLaDOS’ voice and from Her. She’s not afraid of GLaDOS the way Wheatley was by any means, but rather the concepts and goals and things she represents.
