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Entry tags:
Visits of Velvet
A: Between the conscious and the unconscious...
It happens so fast you don't have time to dwell on it.
At first, you're sleeping in your room. As you drift into slumber, you suddenly find yourself facing a blue-colored desk with an ancient-looking computer and screen. If you try to move, the chair squeaks loudly - that thing definitely needs a little bit of grease to function properly. Some chairs have rips and tears, leaking fluff, missing buttons and are generally badly in need of repair. Looking around will reveal rows of such desks all around you, with everyone in their own little blue-colored cubicle. There are large windows to the outside too, but it's impossible to see - there's way too much fog outside. Phones and other electronic devices don't appear to be working either if you had them on you.
It won't take too much time for you to notice that everyone is dressed business casual. A tiny little empty plaque holder sits on your desk, along with scattered letters from what appear to be Scrabble pieces that could form your name (or an anagram if you're feeling like it), and a number written on a post-it. You can turn your machine on, but it will take a while to be useful. Best to look around the place to see what else is here while the message saying that it's preparing the booting up screen chugs along.
The entire floor is pathetically barren for the most part. The theme of color continues with the dark blue walls, the visible ceiling pipes and the shaggy blue carpet, which is, thankfully, free of stains. If you do bother to look around during the next ten minutes, either chatting with others or walking around, you may notice two more rooms.
First, there’s a dining area with a single coffee machine. No way will this be enough for anyone to get their coffee fix. Not that they could, as there doesn't appear to be coffee anywhere. Or cups. Or spoons. Just a poor, lonely, coffee machine, empty cabinets and a fridge that isn't even plugged in.
The second is a large gathering room. You know that’s what it’s mean to be thanks to the clumsily taped sign on the top of the room's opening in near perfect handwriting. No chairs, just an empty room with no door....and a portrait of a strange man hung in the back. To its credit, despite the face and nose possibly giving you nightmares for the rest of your life, this portrait of Igor may be the most expensive looking thing in the entire floor. The mahogany frame, is enhanced by the carved butterflies around it.
B : The Talk
Eventually there is a message over the intercom to everyone. The voice is neutral, seemingly devoid of emotion. It's still hard to hear due to the glitchy sound and skipping noise.
"Att...tion. If you cou...all please come ..t....Gather... room. Thank you."
As the crowd moves into the aptly-named room, those that stay out of it will eventually find themselves being pushed by invisible boundaries into it. Once the last person is in, the voice from the intercom finally makes herself known with a polite cough. Dramatic entrance or just perfect timing? The blue, black and gold business suit somehow manages not to clash with her blonde hair and bright yellow eyes. Next to her is another individual who's also dressed in a similar suit, black hair and the same pair of yellow eyes, a small smirk and a glint in his eyes and a giant wad of papers on a wood board a golden pen in his hands.. They've already met them in a dream but now seeing them in person is an entirely new experience. They look...like models, and a lot more expensive than anything else here.
"Welcome to your first team meeting, team," she greets them, eyes darting at the group while she continues to talk. "I am Mary, and this is my brother, William. You will have to forgive us for the lack of space - normally the Velvet Room only has a small number of Guests at a time. You are all very different than that, due to the circumstances. I hope you will all get along - for your sake's anyway..." She stops to adjust her glasses and crosses her arms. "Now then, I'll make this brief. This place exists between the conscious and unconscious and takes the image of what is most suitable for the tasks ahead. In your cases, an office. As per the contract you all signed a few weeks ago, we are here to assist you with your personal growth. In exchange, you are to prove to us your willingness to change this world."
"It's no small task," William adds, finally speaking up. His voice is much deeper and relaxed than his sister's. "But our Master has faith in all of you . It will not be the same for everyone of course, but each of you has a role to play. My sister and I are here to aid you as the Velvet Room's Humanoid Resources. I am most eager to begin my duties."
"While you may have many questions, we unfortunately cannot answer all of them. This journey is also your own and those of the Velvet Room are tasks with watching, not interfering."
William just nods and shrugs is elbows.
"That being said, we will do what we can. The first round of questions is opened to the floor."
[OOC: IF you have a question for the Velvet Room’s residents, please go post it in the appropriate section in the post below. The rest of the prompts can be between yourselves!
The requests will be starting in a few weeks.]
Chikusa Kakimoto - ota
[The first thing Chikusa does once he's quickly assessed where he is and who's around him is strip.]
[Not completely, but he looks down at his blazer and tie with vague distaste before tugging both off and flinging them off. If they land on you, uh, sorry, although Chikusa certainly won't apologize.]
[His second course of action is to roam around the place, expression blank and tired in contrast to his quick shuffle. It's a path that eventually leads him over to the coffee machine where- oh, he's just. Grabbing it.]
[You might want to try and stop him because it sure looks like he's ready to just break the damn thing. You'd think he'd look more aggravated to fit with the action, but.... Nope. Still as blankfaced as usual.]
B - The Talk
[Chikusa does not want to go have a talk by being dictated by strange voices he doesn't know, and which, quite frankly, he's doubtful they'll get any answers from. Luci, after all, hasn't answered shit. So he quite notably is one of those who refuses to go along with it, lounging quietly. And when some invisible force starts to herd him along?]
[He straight up just settles down on the floor.]
[Feel free to just.... enjoy the show as the force patiently pushes him across the floor while he very pointedly doesn't bother to be helpful at all.]
a
Still, he didn't expect to see coffee machine vandalism.
Not that he's gonna stop it. No, he's just watching, standing close enough to probably be in Chikusa's field of vision but not so close that he might get hit with the machine or something.]
...No coffee?
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[Plastic smashes down against the floor with a crash as he throws it, although the angle apparently isn't enough to make the coffee pot itself shatter. Chikusa stays where he is, staring blandly down at it, before apparently remembering to add an afterthought.]
There aren't any cups or anything either, so it's even more unnecessarily useless....
[Crouching down, he starts to fiddle with the machine to patiently begin dismantling it.]
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He's not Natsume anymore though. Nakigitsune looks on, cocking his head in a questioning sort of manner as he watches.]
Nothing?
[Moving a little closer...just to peek in the empty cupboard, and maybe glance around for any other coffee-making necessities. Like a plug. Or coffee.]
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[Who knows for the future, if they end up having to spend a lot of time in this place. Still, Chikusa only continues deconstructing the coffee machine, having a little bit of trouble with no tools on hand.]
Who knows the reason.
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...Staring at Chikusa again. He kinda feels bad for that coffee machine...but everything feels so empty here, maybe the coffee machine is empty too? Does dismantling a machine count as breaking it? There's a lot of things he doesn't know, there probably isn't much point in adding this to the list, probably.
Naki squats down next to him, watching him work.]
....What are you doing?
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Trying to take it apart.
[Obviously.]
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Another short moment of silence, before:]
Why?
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[Another quiet grunt.]
Even if to be improvised.... or if it's just as empty as the rest of this place.
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...It's lifeless. [Does he mean the husk of a coffee machine? The office setting as a whole? Maybe both.]
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[Finishing his destruction of the coffee machine, Chikusa leans back with a heaved out sigh.]
There has to be a reason for that.
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Dream?
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[He considers it, pausing from where he sorts through the wreckage.]
...Did you have that dream... with the man with the long nose?
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[Still focusing his gaze on the remains of the machine rather than the person sifting through it.]
With the cards?
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[So this is more weird app shit... Well, he'd picked up on that already. The metal and plastic clink against each other.]
His portrait is in that one room...
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...His territory?
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[Carefully, he starts to short things out.]
There were two other people with him as well, I think...
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a
Hey!
[before he has time to notice the source of clothes being thrown in his direction. For obvious reasons, he's been more or less avoiding Ciro since he got his memories back. They were best friends, but now he's sure he knows nothing about him, and that's easier to avoid than try to reconcile. There's a flash of surprise on his face as he recognises him before he looks away again.]
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[It takes maybe half a minute, but he finally shifts closer to look over the top of the cubicle.]
....Hey...
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This is yours.
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[And so he tosses it aside again, although at least this time into his own cubicle. Yet with that done, he doesn't really move away, and neither does he make eye contact with Gladion either. Instead, he just stands there, positively still.]
....There's nowhere private here...
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What did you expect from this place?
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[So, you know, this dream invasion shit is garbage.]
[There's another awkward pause, because neither Ciro or Chikusa have ever really been halfway decent at this sort of thing before.]
....How... have you been coping?
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If you've been to school, then you have an idea.
[Because Gladion, for the most part, has not been to school, and when he has he's gotten in trouble.]
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[There's no particular judgment in his voice, because, ha ha, guess who's been there. Just the same quiet bland tone Chikusa often uses. It's difficult to say if that makes it better or worse.]