~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

Touka | Living room | mint |

"Six years for me," said Touka, relieved that it seemed to be possible to slip back into talking like old friends even after all that time had passed between them. "Didn't really blink in at all for five of them. Been in and out the past year." She shrugged, as if she was trying to shrug off the whole situation in one movement. She didn't feel like sitting around in the past. Especially not now.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice a carefully neutral mask of all the things she could tell him. About Cochlea, about the past couple of years, about her current situation and how unstable it was. About her mentor and how she was worried about his cough that he wouldn't talk about, or about the people she'd saved, or about the people she hadn't saved. About why she was wearing an eye patch now, or about how she was only wearing it because looking in the mirror without it made her have panic attacks that left her jetlagged and jumpy for days.

But she didn't want to talk about any of that. She just wanted to be here again, for once. To talk to her friends, and just exist for a little while without having to look over her shoulder or listen for screams. She was just tired.

"Wanna do a room?" she asked, tilting her head towards the hallway. "Been a while. Maybe for both of us. Could be fun," she added, with a smile that was almost mischievous.

Touka | Hallway | mint |

Whether or not Kid had fallen for her 'fine', she couldn't say. He had always been good at masking those things. But the more he moved and talked, the more she got the impression that at least something had changed about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he seemed...older. Heavier, maybe. Weighed down by something he hadn't been the last time she really talked to him.

Well, maybe they'd both gotten older, and maybe the years hadn't been very kind to either of them.

"It's finally sick of us f(oops)ing everything up every time we blink in here," she said, grinning. "Just one too many broken walls and failed rooms and it went 'jesus f(oops)ing christ, these people are all f(oops)ing stupid or something' and decided to bring in a new batch, probably."

She glanced at him somewhat sharply, noticing his hesitation. She noticed, but didn't say anything. She'd learned to pick her words at Cochlea, at least, and if Kid didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't press. Unless it was necessary.

"Yeah, I can pick," she said with an indifferent shrug. She began to tap the door handles, making a little show out of the first room she'd been in in years. "Eenie, meenie, miney..."

She settled on one, and gripped the door, pulling it open. "...Mo."

Touka | Spaceship room | mint |

"The final front - nevermind," said Touka, finishing the sentence automatically before realizing she didn't very much want to be branded as THAT kind of nerd.

She stepped in after him, only to find out that her reference had been completely on the nose after all. They were...at least from the look of it...actually in space.

"Huh..." she said, standing still as she found herself completely caught off guard by the view outside the windows. Just...stars, everywhere, as far as you could see.

When was the last time she'd seen stars?

"Well, this is new," she said finally, turning back to Kid. "It's so quiet. I wonder if this room is actually gonna be pretty peaceful - AH!"

Before she'd even had time to regret her words, the entire ship jolted violently, sending her crashing into one of the panels between windows and down to the floor. The lights, previously white, shifted to blinking red as an alarm began to sound, echoing down the halls.

"WARNING. Hull breach detected on Section B12. Structural integrity has been compromised," said a robotic voice, blaring over the alarm.

"Sh(oops)..." said Touka, sitting up and running herself over for any breaks. Some bruises, maybe, but she didn't seem to be hurt. "Kid, you okay?"

Kelsier | for Sam Room | strider mintedstar/fur

There was a certain feeling in between a mistake and guilt. There was no word for it, not in Scadrial, at the very least. It was more of a shift between feelings than a feeling in itself…a sort of…what was it. Being told you were wrong was similar. The moment between thinking you were right and realizing you weren’t.
Kelsier was a proud man. Arrogant, some would say, and they couldn’t be argued with. In his world, it served him well…he knew who the enemy was and how hard he could push a thing without letting it fall and smash on the floor.
The House was different. The House was the reason he had killed Nico on first meeting him.
He wished he could blame the House here, too. It was the reason he was so confident, every time, right before the rug was yanked out from under his feet. Right before he realized he’d managed to assume once more that the rules of his world applied here.
He could see the decision to punish Nico in the god’s eyes. Punish him, for the decision Kelsier had forced him to make.
He hadn’t been angry before, really. That had been indignation at an injustice he was not a part of. For him, the two mirrored each other almost perfectly…probably the result of a lifetime of indignation fueling his anger.
Hades wouldn’t have any way of knowing the difference between them. He didn’t know Kelsier.
Would Nico recognize it? Kelsier thought he would, if he were still watching. Maybe it was better that he wasn’t, though. Maybe it was better that he take Sam and run.
His heart sometimes forgot he was a hero when he lost his temper, after all.
He faced Hades, dagger in hand, eyes narrowed and still blazing. He looked truly dangerous, now. He hadn’t lost his temper. He hadn’t lost it. But he wasn’t restraining it, either. It was an attack dog, and he was allowing it to do its job.
He shook his head slowly. “No one will ever judge my soul,” he told him, and it was a lot more like stating a fact than arguing a case. “Not you, not anyone else. I truly don’t know if there is a deity in my world…I don’t know if there’s even an afterlife. And yes, Hades. I will one day die. Probably a lot sooner than you think. But I will not be judged.”
Nico was afraid that he was like Hades, or so the Mistborn thought. He looked in the mirror, and his reflection echoed back his fears. Same eyes. Same jaw. Same cold radiating out from him, same dread and death following him like a loyal hound. But really…Nico had absolutely nothing to worry about. He was as opposite this arrogant, selfish man as he could possibly get. They weren’t even similar, so much so that even the physical resemblance was lost on Kelsier.
It was Kelsier who was eerily similar to the god of the Underworld.
Both proud, arrogant men, so certain they were right that they couldn’t hear the words of anyone telling them otherwise. Both willing to do anything for their purposes, different though those were. Both, as Sam had accurately thought, posturing fathers, determined to outdo the other, even, it seemed, at the cost of the very boy they were fighting over.
“Enough,” he said quietly, authority echoing in his voice, an iron sort of will. He needed to find a way to make the god forget Nico’s choice…he didn’t care what it would take on his part.
House…make him forget when he blinks back. Make him forget his anger with Nico.
He felt the power. He could probably end Hades, if he decided to.
It wouldn’t stop him. The House would bring him back, and he’d assume Nico had given his permission for it.
“I don’t want your kingdom,” he told him, stepping forward. He could hear the kids behind him leaving. Good. He lowered his voice, keeping Hades’ powers under control, but not using them. He could feel his anger threatening to escape in the same cold dread the god had used. He ignored it. “I have my own world to carry.”
This wasn’t his god to slay.
Were they out of earshot yet?
“You’re not going to listen to a word I’ve said. Are you?” He said finally. “If our positions were reversed, you’d use these powers to tear my soul from my body and drag it to hell with you. And you’re right. I’m not innocent.”
He was right in front of Hades now, his voice low. “He made a choice you didn’t expect. I can see your anger in your eyes. But I’m feeling generous today.”
It was another stupid idea. How he hated not being in control.
“Tell you what. You want to punish the boy for that? What can you possibly threaten him with? What can you take?”
Don’t question why I’m offering. Don’t question what I’m doing.
“Me.”
He didn’t move.
“You do have to appreciate the irony of it, don’t you? He chooses me over you, and you take away the instigator. The words I put in his head. It’s a punishment for disloyalty and a solution to the problem, all at once. You know as well as I do that he didn’t do this on his own.”
Hades didn’t have any way of knowing death here was temporary. Nico did. Nico would play his part. He wouldn’t challenge Hades. He would keep his head down and play it safe for once in his life.
Kelsier, ever the hypocrite, silently begged his son to let himself be protected, for once in his life.
It occurred to him vaguely that this was a rather terrible first impression for Sam. Ah, well. It seemed he couldn’t make good first impressions to save his life.

Double Trouble | Living room | @ anyone |

"Well I don't see how that's my fault. They're the ones who set off all the explosives. I just suggested it to them."

A new blinker appeared near the center of the living room, regarding whoever had been in front of them with something between disdain and amusement. They stuck out their long, forked tongue and flicked it over their eyeball, blinking to clear it, and then froze, realizing everything around them had quite suddenly changed shape.

"Oh, well this is a twist," they said, turning in a little circle, almost a twirl with how quick it was. "And where might you people have sent me? I didn't know there were any Princesses with powers like this."

Sal | Hall | strider

Sal was adventurous at heart. He was aware that death trap rooms were probably not the best way to show it, but…it wasn’t like he had any reason to believe the living room was actually safer. And he didn’t accept that there wasn’t a way out. He was at least going to look for himself, wasn’t he?
He still would have preferred to be armed in some way, though. He didn’t like the idea of being forced to protect himself, but…he knew better than to think it wasn’t likely he’d have to. Anything supernatural was dangerous by default, and he thought this was probably supernatural.
He glanced over, semi surprised to find the other boy joining him. “That’s nice of you,” he commented. “I was hoping you’d say something like that. Wow…that’s a lot of doors.”
He’d just noticed the hall. It was…impressive. Yeah. That word would work.

Sal | Hallway/Room | strider

Sal nodded a little, taking that in. So it could think…or at least, Zuko thought it could think. And it knew what they were expecting. Could it read their minds?
He wasn’t sure he liked that idea much, but he kept it to himself. He was going to figure out as much about this as he could, but for now…he wanted to explore.
“I’d definitely like to keep me alive, too,” he agreed, watching the doors. They were completely identical. He couldn’t pick out a single difference between any of them.
No way to tell what was inside, was there?
He breathed out, taking hold of a knob and looking at Zuko. Then he dipped his head and stepped through the door.

Zuko followed Sal into the room, immediately drawing his swords and getting in position behind Sal in case anything attacked from the back. There didn’t seem to be anything else alive in the room, though, just… two shiny slabs of… white something attached to an equally white (though not nearly as shiny) wall. Colorful markers rested on a silver shelf that appeared to be built out from the glossy thing. Zuko didn’t trust it, but he had learned the hard way that he wasn’t from the world that most things in rooms tended to be from. He looked over at Sal, curious if the new blinker would recognize the goal of the room. Zuko turned around, taking in everything else, too. A black-topped desk was raised in the middle of the room, and on top of it lay a woven basket labelled “pictionary.” The word held no meaning to Zuko.

Touka | Spaceship room | mint |

"Sorry!"  hissed Touka, as aware as Kid was that she'd just jinxed them to hell and back.  Well, this whole place had just gone to sh(oops).  No point crying over it now.

"Yeah no being ejected into space and feeling my own blood boil wasn't really on my list of fun things to do with an afternoon," she said dryly, looking around to see if she could find any directions for where to go.  Directions, directions.....

"Oh, there.  See?"  She pointed to the end of the hall, where a closed door was labeled with a bold silver 7.

"Level seven?"  she suggested, shrugging.  "Or something.  We're looking for B12, so maybe B is the section, 12 is the level?"

Double Trouble | Living room | @ des |

The stranger turned, almost immediately registering the presence of someone else in the room with them. Teleportation, but couldn't look more different than Princess Glimmer....how interesting. This person didn't look much like a princess - they knew better than to assume that meant anything, though. They took in a great many details about this person immediately - taking note of his posture, his clothing, his hair - he seemed overconfident to a fault, which, in their experience, said he was an extremely insecure individual. Well, well well. This was going to be fun.

"Someone really should've taught you that it's impolite to stare, darling," they said, with a hint of reproach. "Though, I suppose, who could blame you?" They grinned a sharp-toothed grin, blinking their nictitating membranes as they stared back.

Juuzou | Fireworks Room | <Raintalon>

Juuzou didn’t think he was being overly cynical to suspect Orihara-human’s observation was less incomplete and more utterly fabricated with the specific intent to cause problems. He’d never met him, but he’d heard enough carefully constructed lies to know the taste of one, and it was just a little bit too on the nose as far as what would harm Asami. If you were convinced you couldn’t make friends, you’d end up sabotaging yourself and fulfilling your own prophecy with very little outside help. It wasn’t like he didn’t think humans could be cruel, either…he was on their side in the war against ghouls, but he didn’t have to like them all, did he?
“I think that’s true,” he told her, looking down and scuffing the ground with one slipper as he considered her theory. “I guess it’s harder when there’s no one in the world like you, though. Until you find someone else who’s not like anyone else.”
He looked up, red eyes serious as they held hers. “I think that this is a good place for irregularities. I’m not friends with the people here or anything, but I think there’s a lot of other irregularities here, too. Maybe this is where we tend to end up…maybe you’re right. We need a place to congregate, and here we all are.”

Zuko noticed the way Sal tensed, then seemed to almost jump backwards. Ah… well, he was evidently not very used to people with weapons. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to strangers with weapons, which was… understandable. Zuko didn’t sheathe the blades, but he did lower them a little bit. He wasn’t planning on aiming them at Sal, but he didn’t want to keep making him uneasy by having them unsheathed and ready to use, in theory.
“Yeah, sometimes,” Zuko replied after a long moment, voice low and uncertain as he looked around. “Not always. I… doubt this is, but you can’t always tell at first. Maybe whatever wants to kill us is hiding out of sight. Or maybe the House will decide to do something cruel if we fail to figure out what the goal of the room is. Have… you ever seen anything like this before?” If Zuko had ever been to school, he might have noticed a little bit of a resemblance, but… it most certainly wasn’t obvious. And it didn’t matter, because Zuko had never even gone to school in the Fire Nation. He had been tutored privately.

Vincent - Game Room - hawk

Vincent hummed in response, gently holding the back of his chair as he took in the scene, particularly the blank screen. That was…interesting. A bit outdated, but he supposed it fit the gaudy aesthetic. He exhaled through his nose in a quiet scoff, his expression briefly giving hint that he was just as disinterested in the decor. Hardly for the same reasons, of course, to him everything just felt old.
He glanced down at the overturned whiskey glass, leaning over his chair and grabbing it silently. He lifted it towards him curiously, elbows prompted on his seat’s back as he analyzed it, pleased to see that his fingerprints were seemingly the first to ever touch its surface. He seemed to forget he had company for a moment - entirely enamored by the complexity of the House and it’s concept of matter and all other scientific laws - when his icy gaze suddenly returned to L across the small space. “Do you drink?” He asked as he stepped out from behind his chair, moving towards the recessed bar. He hardly waited for an answer before he was pouring something for himself, not bothering with concern for labels because no bottles actually had one. The drink poured cold, even without ice. The sight of condensation on the glass made it impossible for the man to not smile to himself.

L Lawliet | Game Room | ~∂єѕтιиу

The room itself was a sort of work of art, in the way all House rooms were. Of course, L had no real proof that this wasn’t a place that had existed before they’d stepped through the door - there seemed to be a lot of worlds, after all, maybe the House had simply dropped them on one and taken the credit for it - but it didn’t really matter either way, at the moment. The House almost certainly had the ability to create a place like this, even if it hadn’t done it at this point in time.
And Vincent, of course. The other blinker held L’s attention with apparent ease.
He caught the gaze as it flicked out to meet his own, and he held it for a moment. What surprised him about this interaction, he decided, was how little it felt like a House interaction, and how much it felt like one he’d have in his own world. Vincent could have been someone L was trying to bring down, or someone L was working with to bring someone else down. Meeting him in the context of the House was a little jarring.
He inclined his head a little at the question. It felt loaded, but so did everything else.
“Not anything in the House, no,” he replied, shaking his head a little as he watched Vincent pour himself a glass of…something.