I GET KNOCKED DOWN

[helpline]

WHO: Heropa 11 + open to anyone who'd be around Heropa 11
WHERE: ....Heropa 11
WHEN: all over early February
WHAT: god bless this trainwreck of a house
WARNINGS: Heropa 11

What does Heropa 11 look like? Who knows, man, we're playing this by ear. It's a bizarre mix of Hazel's plants, Saint Walker's calming aura, the Doctor's half-finished projects, so many feathers from the skateboarding owl, Hazel's art supplies, soy candles everywhere, Kirk's one night stands, and everybody's mess. The kitchen occasionally smells a little bit off because somebody still needs practice at cooking (cough the Doctor cough). There's probably a few mugs that are paint water mugs, don't drink them. Make fun of Kirk if he accidentally phases through the sofa and please for the love of god try and keep it slightly quiet for poor Saint Walker (it will never be quiet enough for poor Saint Walker.)

We're playing this fast and loose so set up your own starter and let's go hog wild. The stupider the better, shitpost to your heart's content.

Comments

ota, let's rock with the dumb.

[helpline]

a: the doctor steals an owl
[ Kirk is here. Kirk is taking a room. Kirk is taking the room with the skateboarding owl in it. The Doctor can finally move the skateboarding owl into his room and do things like design it a better helmet or tiny knee pads or things like that without having to run up and down stairs for fittings. He's rooming with the Three Tenors Hermit Crabs, might as well add another roomie! The more the merrier!

The problem is, he needs to move the owl without Hazel noticing.

So, the Doctor's trying to carefully sneak up the stairs...with a suspiciously bulgey coat pocket that's also cooing. He's got this, he can do this. ]

b: the doctor breaks appliances.
[ What's happening, oh nothing, it's just the Doctor sitting on the front porch, taking apart the blender AGAIN. He dismantled (but put together!) the microwave last week, somebody should really throw something at him. ]

c: the doctor vandalizes the walls.
[ Oh, were you trying to use the attic? Tough luck because the walls are now 75% comprised of star charts.

The attic is closest to the roof, the Doctor needs to scramble on the roof occasionally to check the position of the stars and record where they are in this universe, ergo the attic is where all the star charts live. He's taken to drawing directly on the walls and roof of the attic with his ever-present chalk, marking the stars as they shift each night, with each night's star chart enclosed in a box, with the date written underneath. After all, he knew all the stars of his world, no matter where and when in the universe he was. This world? The stars were annoyingly different.

There's a little sign on the trapdoor that leads up to the attic that reads "GO AWAY HUMANS (AND HAZEL)". Anyone who comes up who isn't Saint Walker is liable to get fussed at.

Of course, the problem with the Doctor scrambling up on the roof to check for stars + his superpower of always instantly generating chalk means that he's dropped like five pieces of chalk off the roof by now and some of them have totally hit people on the head. Whoops. ]

a, of course

[deadtective]

Hey!

[the cry comes from the bottom of the stairs, where a distinctly pissy Hazel is standing with her arms crossed over her chest. did you think she wasn't going to notice this, Grandpa? YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING.]

i figured. c:

[helpline]

[ The Doctor turns around and gives Hazel a grin that, in a different universe, would be considered reassuring. As it is, it looks a bit scary. ]

Hazel! What's up?

[deadtective]

What the fuck do you think is up? Cut that shit out!

[the menacing grin only serves to increase her ill temper. she's put this house effectively under siege for this damn owl, there's no way she's going to let him go now...even if it's only a trip upstairs in this instance.]

c

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker does not, in fact, attempt to go into the attic. No, he's out in the front yard going about his nightly rituals - daily stretching keeps one limber and young! - when a piece of chalk comes sailing down towards him. He snatches it out of the air before it bounces off his head and is soon flying up to the roof like the big glowing eyesore he is. The people of Heropa must groan at how many glowing people wind up whizzing around their vicinity.

He holds the piece of chalk out for the Doctor to take, right in the palm of his hand.]

You are likely to hit someone one of these days, [he chides him, though it's a gentle sort of reprimand at best.] What are you doing up here?

[helpline]

[ As he spots that blue glow out of his peripheral vision, the Doctor turns around to find Saint walker, giving the other alien a smile. And, to his credit, the Doctor looks a bit sheepish as he takes the chalk from him. Other people, the Doctor would just think whatever, they can deal, but Saint Walker? He kind of feels terrible sassing the other man.

But as for his question... ]

The stars of this world are different. I can't go up and check them out myself right now, but the least I can do is plot their movements.

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker turns his own gaze towards the stars. He hasn't bothered going exploring yet, not when there's still work to be done here... but he wants to.]

A different galaxy is an awe-inspiring thing, [he says, a little wonderingly.] I had scarcely scratched the surface of exploring my own when I was brought here. I am able to travel in space, you realize. I should like to explore these stars as well, one day.

ota | hi len

[infomodder]

[What happens when the dog at the end of a leash is an enormous strong beefcake of a canine and he tugs that leash one too many times against a short older man who isn't quite as much of a beefcake? If the leash doesn't break, then it at least goes flying out of his hand, which means there's an enormous hunk of furry love bolting like a Goddamn small horse down the sidewalk. Said short older man is following as fast as he can, shouting the dog's name (which ends up falling into a desperate sounding Samson, stop! Samson, be a good boy! this is all very tragic and sad and not at all comical, only poor mortals gods thought were super hot ever had it this bad) and trying to catch up...

But he only manages to when the dog actually stops. And the dog actually stops because he's found the front step of a house Will doesn't recognize. For a second, he thinks the worst of it is over, and he stops on his own not too far away. So he can put his hands on his knees and catch his breath like an old fart, of course. Sir Samsom Fluffington the Third of Floof-upon-Tweed is sniffing the door, clearly he's just interested. Perhaps there are other animals in the house, this is all fine.

Oh.

Oh no.

Will is still doubled-over as his face morphs to moderate horror when the dog turns and lifts a leg.

Right over that spot of the door where it meets the frame, meaning if that crack isn't properly sealed, there might...

Fuck.]

hey gurl

[deadtective]

[that crack was likely properly sealed at some point. that point was probably before any of these assholes took up residence, because there's no way the infrastructure could stand up to them like that.

Hazel notices something shimmering at the foot of the door as she passes by, and her insatiable curiosity means there's no way she can't go over and inspect it. hm. the answer to her inquest is both disgusting but not really the worst she's seen - and that cool head is what allows her to peek out the window to discover the culprit.

ah.

a moment afterwards, once Samson has mercifully emptied his bladder, the door opens just a crack. a small hand appears from inside the murky depths holding an open jar of peanut butter; it retreats as soon as it's caught the dog's attention and the door closes with an ominous click as soon as the big animal is inside.

you've paid the price for your mistake, Will. you can go home now.]

[infomodder]

[WHAT

It's astonishing how quickly he goes from winded old fart to sprinting at the door like he has a bottomless pit of athletic energy. The moment he realizes he saw what he actually saw, and Samson is no longer whizzing on the door or smelling his whizz or taking great triumph in his new established property, Will is legitimately a bat out of hell.

1) No one steals dogs from Will Graham. That's his thing, for God's sake.
2) That dog was Abigail's!!!

One of those is more important than the other, of course, but it's still twice the insult. It's still just so, so, so, so, so, so rude he can scarcely believe it.

So congratulations, Hazel. Will does not take this a cue to go home. Instead, he stops just shy of running right into the door before he doubles down on the obnoxiousness as retaliation for doubling down on the insult by both ringing the doorbell repeatedly and knocking on the door as loudly as possible like there's some actual emergency going on.

Because there is.

This is a Code Red Emergency and it will be known as such.]

[deadtective]

Can't hear you, sorry!

[the hypocrisy of this statement is immediately evident, but Hazel doesn't give a single fuck. how could she when there's suddenly a dog almost literally twice her size that she can shower in pets and affection?

she bets she could ride this thing. holy fuck, she could totally ride this dog right into the Doctor's room and watch him burn up with envy. rodeo stardom becomes Hazel's immediate goal following her achievement of letting this animal eat all the peanut butter and snuggling him as much as humanly possible.

things that don't make it into the agenda are letting one Will Graham into the house. sorry dude, you're gonna have to deal with that noise ordinance by yourself.]

[burnseternal]

[Saint Walker had been in the backyard when he heard Will's desperate cries and wound up wandering around into the front yard just in time to see Samson relieve himself right on their front door, urine pooling unpleasantly at the juncture of where the door meets the frame.

Even a Saint isn't pleased about the pool of urine on his front stoop and, likely, inside his house. He doesn't address Will at first. Instead, he simply walks up to Samson, kneels beside him, and places one gentle on his head.]

There is a lawn full of perfectly serviceable grass, [he chides the dog, faintly exasperated.] That was very unnecessary of you.

[That doesn't stop him from ruffling the dog's ears before he turns his large, dark eyes onto Will.]

I do not believe he cares to listen to you, brother. I sincerely doubt he is listening to me.

[infomodder]

[At first, Will is slightly alarmed by the new presence. Mostly due to the...appearance...but he reserves judgment when the...alien (????) goes for the dog. It's possible to tell a lot about a person (alien...?) by the way they treat their inferiors, and that includes dogs. Samson doesn't seem too bothered by the intrusion, tail wagging as he sits and takes the chiding like a naughty child who did the naughtiness in the first place just for the attention of a scolding. Saint Walker's hand even gets a big slobbery lick for his trouble because Samson has totally not heard anything except "hello, naughty dog, I am your new friend."

Will straightens out from his "winded old fart" position when the guy (alien guy!?!?!) turns his attention to him, careful that when he walks forward the move is obvious. He's not sprinting over, he's just casually getting to where he can clip the leash back on the dog. And he's not keeping some huge gap of distance between the two of them, or gaping. He's been here too long to really be bothered by humanoids who aren't completely human. Especially when they call him brother, like, how the hell could he find this guy anything other than worth being around?]

That's how some of them are, dogs. They know no matter how poorly they behave, they'll still get fed and watered and have a place to stay, so...the ears sort of [he gestures one hand by his own head, like turning off a switch, complete with a sort of clicking noise provided by teeth and tongue] turn off from time to time. Sorry about your door. I can clean it up, if you'd like.

[burnseternal]

Mm.

[Saint Walker idly wipes the slobber on his hand off on Samson's coat (surely his coat can take it), but his touch is otherwise gentle as he slowly rises to his feet. He is a peaceful sort, but there is a difference between being peaceful and wanting to clean up someone else's messes.]

I would appreciate that. As would, I think, my housemates. You needn't apologize, however; it is a natural function, and somehow, I doubt that Samson here urinated in our home out of maliciousness.

[He casts a fond sort of glance towards Samson before swinging the door open, and simply floating over the mess. Call it a superpowered perk: no accidentally stepping in dog urine.]

Please, come inside. Would you like a cup of tea?

[After the mess has been cleaned up, of course.]

as ota as it gets

[deadtective]

[Hazel will be absent from the house the 12th-14th but is available any other day in February!!]

one;

[Kirk is here. but, as usual, no one has seen fit to tell Hazel when there's suddenly another person invading her rough facsimile of peace and quiet; when she wanders through the bedroom door to greet Masaw after being out for a bit, the absence of an owl and rearranged furniture leads her to only one conclusion.]

I fucking told them to just fucking stay in their own rooms!

[she continues muttering darkly under her breath, assuming that either Walker or the Doctor had decided to do a little redecorating. scowling mightily, she sets to work pushing all of the furniture back up against the walls where they're supposed to be.

sorry, Kirk.]

two;

[it is three in the morning and Hazel is not only still awake, but she's out in the living room with the television on - possibly too loud, sorry, sometimes she gets a little too into things.

if you catch her in the earlier half of the hour, she's still playing video games. some fighting game is being put through its paces as Hazel burns through ranked online match after match, fingers tapping away at the controller without cessation. she must be making an awful lot of Japanese kids angry right now, but their feelings don't seem to mean much to her. there's only glory now.

as things tick closer and closer to four, she's become engrossed in in an old film adaption of The Island of Doctor Moreau. Hazel had actually meant to go to "sleep" by now, but this has been playing when she'd shut off the game system and now she's hooked. her feet rest on the back of the couch as she regards the movie upside down, but it doesn't seem to be impeding her enjoyment any.]

three;

[it's daytime and Hazel is out in the backyard, completely unbothered by the sweltering Florida heat while wearing a cute sweater. she's either taking care of the impressive garden back here or doing a little painting - if you catch her at the latter, expect some pretty shrill bitching. she doesn't like people peeking at her work without permission.]

wildcard;

[this is the option you pick if you've got something specific in mind you'd like to do (please do!!!) or we've talked about a scenario on plurk and you just like putting something in the subject header. c:]

HEYO; ONE

[overemotionally]

[He had been out all day exploring the area. He figured if he was stuck here, he might as well get to know it a bit.

He heads back to his new room and is not happy to find the door to his room open. A quick scan through his interactions over the past week and a half and he can't remember pissing anyone off too badly. He'll take his chances.

He stands in the doorway, eyebrow raised. Huh. Just...moving furniture?]

Can I help you?

[deadtective]

[she looks up briefly at the unfamiliar voice, then drops her gaze back to pushing the dresser. Hazel is tiny and weighs forty-two pounds soaking wet, so this is a much more labor-intensive endeavor than most people would assume.

all things considered, she's not really bothered by a stranger wandering around the house. he's probably a weirdo friend of the Doctor or Walker.]

No, I'm good.

[overemotionally]

Okay then you can get out of my room now.

[Who the hell was this? His furniture was moved all over.]

And put my furniture back where you found it.

two

[burnseternal]

[The television wakes Saint Walker up, but that's all well and good; he doesn't exactly keep the most normal hours in the world. Some days he will be out all night, exploring some neck of the wilderness to his heart's desire, and others, he will be in bed by 10 PM. This so happens to be one of his nights in.

He pads into the living room only to be greeted with a series of angry sounding grunts from the television, and -- ah. There's something on television, and Hazel is... pushing buttons.

He has no idea what's going on. Whether Hazel heard him come in or not (he is pretty quiet), he nevertheless makes himself known as he leans over the couch and notes,] Nobody in this situation looks very happy.

[Usually, people on television talk. There's no talking going on. A little mystified, he asks,] Is fighting the extent of what this program is about?

[deadtective]

[she's in a "safe" place and too engrossed with her game to let her paranoia roam free, and so Hazel doesn't notice Walker's arrival until he's leaning over her and commenting on the action. thankfully her nerves are impeccable - she doesn't start even an inch, instead just giving him a sidelong glance before returning her focus to the game.

for a second it seems like Hazel's just going to ignore him, but after nailing an ex move the response does come. and she's actually pretty even-toned, all things considered. for her, anyway.]

There's probably gonna be some crying once I stomp this kid into oblivion, too.

[that doesn't really answer the question, but Hazel doesn't quite realize yet that he doesn't know what video games are]

He thinks he's hot shit, but it's way too easy to crack him wide open. Little asshole.

three

[aviate]

[Hal visits every now and then to hang out with Saint Walker as the only other lantern he knows in this universe. Of course the problem then becomes that Walker's blue power ring supercharges his green to dangerous levels and the excess power needs to be discharged or something is going to blow.

Right now he's reaching the point where he's unable to stop the sparking and his ring is informing him that its reaching critical mass so he steps outside to hopefully take the steam off so to speak where no one in the house would notice.

Except he's left it too long that even the simplest of constructs have far too much power behind it and there's a bright flash of green followed by the windows breaking and now there's a very visible dent in the patio where he's standing.]

Crap.

[He casts a quick look around and freezes when he sees Hazel. He thought everyone was inside so he hadn't exactly bothered to check when he walked outside. He was planning on pretending he didn't see anything and leaving too.]

[deadtective]

[yeah, fat chance of that. Hazel levels the flattest gaze in the world at Hal and crosses her arms over her chest. she doesn't seem alarmed or even surprised over the incident; at most, she appears massively annoyed. this is clearly a girl who's seen some shit and isn't about to be dissuaded.]

Hope you know a fucking fantastic repair company.

OTA!

[burnseternal]

[The other residents of Heropa 011 are full of excitement, life, vigor. They engage in all manners of shenanigans, whether it has to do with breaking the house, spreading their belongings all over the house, or simply being loud.

It's only fitting that there is one among them that is decidedly against that grain. Where others are loud, Saint Walker is soft, treading silently through the house as if walking on clouds, and bustling around the kitchen. However you find him, it's certain to be peaceful, but not very exciting. One may find him...]

a ; cooking

[...cooking in the kitchen. The table is wiped clean as he works, with the ingredients neatly separated into lines, and all compost tucked away into the compost bin. On the stove, a large pot of vegetable stew is simmering, with the scent of tomatoes and herbs wafting from it. If you happen to be inside, he's quick to turn with a smile and say,] It is very nearly ready. Would you like a bowl?

b ; playing music

[...sitting in the living room, something resembling a lute in his lap. It is a pale, glowing blue, a construct that he has made through the power of his ring alone, but that does not seem to impede his performance. He plucks at the strings slowly, but all in all, it's a rather peaceful sound, which is only to be expected when the figure in question isn't so much sitting as much as he is floating above the couch. If he sees a visitor, he will pluck the strings one more time, allowing the sound to reverberate through the room before commenting,] Do let me know if you wish to use this room instead. I am able to relocate to my room easily enough.

c ; caring for whatever godawful vermin he found injured in the street

[...fussing over a box on the table in the entranceway. Every now and then, he will find some poor creature on the street and will feel moved to bring it back home again to nurse it back to health, no matter what it may be.

In this case, it happens to be a snake.]

Not to worry, little one, [he says, poking his head into the box.] You will be restored back to full health soon enough.

[If someone happens to be passing by, he will look up from the box.]

Please do not disturb her. It seems that she sustained a nasty injury on the road. But I, I think, can fix that.

A

[overemotionally]

[Kirk was getting used to being around Heropa, exploring after work as a test pilot (it had been weird getting used to the primitive mechanisms and controls but he was starting to get the hang of it finally) but he still hadn't really met any of the roommates.

He comes back into the house and is immediately hit with the great smells that must be coming out of the kitchen. He heads in there, hands in his pockets and blinks. Probably a roommate? He assumes so but they were offering him food so he was fine if they weren't.]

Oh uh. What is it and what's in it? [He's allergic to things, sorry bro.]

Name's Jim Kirk, by the way.

A

[burnseternal]

It is stew! [He says that brightly enough, pausing to lean over it, breathing in the scent before wandering over to where he has herbs growing by the windowsill, and pinching off a strand of thyme.]

Here, you would call it a vegan stew. It has tomatoes, onions, eggplant, peppers, mushrooms... though it would, perhaps, be easier for you to tell me what ingredients you prefer not to eat.

[It's a good old fashioned stew, which means everything but the kitchen sink's inside, so long as it's vegan.]

And I am Saint Walker! It is good to meet you, Jim Kirk. Are you one of Hazel or the Doctor's friends?

[Evidently he's entirely unconcerned with complete strangers simply wandering into his house, provided he can give them the hospitality he feels they deserve.]