( 003 » ENSEMBLE ) party time.

[reveriemod]

» WHO? Everyone
» WHEN? July 1 to July 8
» WHERE? Entire Station
» WHAT? 168 hours of being forced to listen to cheesy music on repeat…
» WARNINGS? the mundane and slightly ridiculous becoming terrible, cheesy pop music, forced sleep deprivation, anger, loss of control, emotions, potential for stabbing, hallucinations, mania, memory loss, confusion, seizures, depression.

0 0 1 » LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED

It starts in the mess hall and it starts slowly. At first, it can barely be heard over the conversations that are happening but as the volume increases, it becomes apparent that music is playing. Not just any music: characters from Earth will recognise these pop hits from the 70s, 80s and 90s. They’re the kind of hits one might find on a Spotify playlist titled “Top 100 Cheesy Hits” or “Songs To Sing To In The Shower”. Power ballads. Boy bands. Girl bands. Woodstock.

Soon, the music can be heard all across the station, blasting from every speaker, audible in every room. Characters who were asleep in their quarters will be woken by the music’s volume, characters under the shower might want to start singing along (but remember, the walls might just be thin enough for the neighbours to hear) and if characters clear some chairs, there’s enough space in the bar for an impromptu dance floor.

Some characters have been working on improving the replicators, too, so while the alcohol supplies at the bar are dwindling and all but gone, the replicators are now capable of making something that’s palatable, even if it’s not quite up to scratch.

What’s the harm in having some fun? It’s just a little music, right?

( ♪ )

0 0 2 » I WANT OFF THIS RIDE

It’s just a little music, right? And it is — but it just won’t seem to stop. The first few hours may have been entertaining, at least for those who did not get woken up by the sound of decades (centuries, even) in the past, but the music keeps going long past the point of entertainment.

After two hours, the songs start repeating. After six hours, they’re still playing. After twelve? Still playing. Twenty-four? Still playing.

Sleep becomes all but impossible as the music keeps playing loudly in every room and every corridor of the station. Attempts to shut it down prove unsuccessful.

Forty-eight hours later, the music is still playing.

Characters will begin to suffer the effects of sleep deprivation, in addition to the general irritation that might come from hearing the same two hours worth of cheesy pop songs on a loop: headaches, exhaustion, tremors, irritability and confusion to begin with, followed by lapses in memory, muscle aches, malaise, violent behaviour, hallucinations or mania as cognitive effects set in, possibly also seizures and depression.

And still, the music keeps playing.

( ♪ )

0 0 3 » THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE WATER

The music and the sleep deprivation it causes are the reason for many of the symptoms people are feeling, but something is happening that goes even beyond the music, beyond the lack of sleep: something has changed about the food replicators.

The food is slowly getting better, for one, thanks to a group of individuals who’ve been working on improving them. Beyond that, however, imperceptible, the composition of the food comes with something extra -- namely heightened emotions. Whatever causes it, it’s in the water, too.

Those who are already angry feel angrier and have a harder time controlling that anger. Those who are already sad feel sadder and have a harder time not bursting into tears. Those who are already apathetic feel more apathetic and have a harder time prompting themselves to so much as move. The effect holds for all emotions, heightening them, making them harder to control or counteract. Impulses become action far more quickly than usual. Irritation at the music may become anger at the person singing along under their breath and that, in turn, may lead to someone getting stabbed with a plastic fork.

It’s nearly impossible to keep a cool head, though some people seem more affected than others.

OOC: This part of the plot is completely opt-in. Whatever characters are feeling will be heightened and strengthened and their impulse control lowered. Make sure to get ooc permission for any stabby action of comparable deeds, and keep in mind that non-con is prohibited in game.

( ♪ )

0 0 4 » AFTERMATH

After 168 hours, the music stops. Whatever was in the water and the food is gone again, meaning characters may never know it was there in the first place. After all, some of the effects of it could have been down to the sleep deprivation as well…

Still, there’s something off about the whole thing. It might seem like someone is watching them. Toying with them. But surely that’s just paranoia, right?

In the aftermath of sleep deprivation and poor impulse control, characters might want to get some sleep or try to mend those relationships that were damaged by careless words or people getting creative with the cutlery.

( ♪ )

Please remember to put warnings in subject lines if so required.

Comments

[resleeves]

And what's going to stop me from just kicking it down again? Are you going to stand guard all night?

( fucking please don't, apollo. he's already having enough trouble sleeping without a giant man standing above him, glaring. )

If people don't want to see what I look like, they can look the other way!

i have a real problem with your icons

[solarcharged]

I don't care, as long as you have some clothes on!

[ Because apparently now Apollo is the Naked Police*, thanks to this stupid music torture. He turns in a whirlwind (ignoring how the door loudly falls over back in to the corridor without him there to hold it) and glares at Kovacs, gesturing savagely as he points out: ]

Which apparently you still don't fucking have!

[ * not as fun as it sounds ]

lmao i just uploaded that one!

[resleeves]

I'm in my own fucking room! I'm not putting clothes on if I don't want to.

( see, if you'd just been nice, he might have actually put on that stupid fucking jumpsuit but now he wasn't going to do it out of principle.

because he was fucking stubborn. )

If you want me to put on clothes, you fucking make me, you fucking giant.

[solarcharged]

[ Ignoring how loudly the door crashes to the floor behind him, Apollo does his very best to keep his gaze level with Kovacs as they face off. He really, really doesn't want to have to jam a naked Kovacs in to a jump suit... Except space is stressful and the music is awful and Apollo is pretty sure he's going to set someone on fire very shortly so somehow forcing Kovacs in to a jump suit actually sounds like a sane and valid thing to do right now. ]

Fine!

[ Apollo marches to the nearest set of drawers in Kovacs's room, yanking open the top one so that he can look for a spare set of clothes. Because apparently now this is a thing that a fully grown adult man has to do for another fully grown adult man! Thanks, space! ]

[resleeves]

( holy shit, he's really going to do this. kovacs is actually a little stunned but he stands his ground. if apollo's really going to try, he is not going to make it fucking easy. )

You're really taking this father thing a little too far.

( again, you did not want comparisons to his dad because that had a shitty end, apollo! )

Put my shit back, you fucking giant. Get out of my room!

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo stops rummaging through Kovacs' drawers long enough to turn on him, furious. ]

Since when is acting like a normal adult a father thing?

[ Because Kovacs isn't the first to call him out on that, and he probably won't be the worst. Every time someone does it makes Apollo feel that little bit more annoyed with this damn station. And himself. ]

You're naked and you broke your door like a child! [ Yeah. Child. That's what you get for calling him a dad!! ] Nobody wants to see you looking like that! But you've broken your door, haven't you, so I guess nobody has a fucking choice now!

[ He snatches up a spare jump suit from the drawer and throws it at Kovacs's chest. ]

Put it on.

[resleeves]

Have you taken a poll? You're speaking for everyone on this station about me being naked and I don't think that's true! I think there's some people that wouldn't fucking mind.

( maybe even you, apollo, if you weren't so hellbent on trying to be the boss of everyone. yeah, that's right, you were trying to be the boss, you fucking skyscraper.

kovacs grabs the jumpsuit and then tosses it to the ground. )

No.

( like it was going to be that easy, apollo. )

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo stares at him incredulously. Kovacs is really going to make him do this. Kovacs, he will fold you like a deck chair regardless of the fact that, yes, he's not blind to the fact that Kovacs is frustratingly attractive. ]

Put it on, you maniac! Do you want me to force you in to it?

[resleeves]

I wanna see you fucking try.

( kovacs isn't blind, apollo is a fucking fortress but kovacs isn't all that small himself and he will make this shit hard. )

Come on, you fucking egotistical oak tree. Try it.

( just try it. )

omg egotistical oak tree i'm dying

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo's aghast stare continues for a moment longer before he snaps: ]

Fine!

[ If this is how it's going to be, then this is how it's going to be. Apollo has sterilised the moon, thrown London Bridge in to the Thames, and executed the president of the United States. And now he's going to put a naked man in a jumpsuit. He snatches up the jumpsuit from the floor and advances on Kovacs threateningly. ]

Damn it, Kovacs, this is your own fault...

Re: omg egotistical oak tree i'm dying

[resleeves]

( this fucking asshole. )

Are you really doing this? You really have nothing better to do than fucking try and put some clothes on me? You need a fucking hobby.

( didn't you have a husband you could go play with? )

Fucking psycho.

( pot. kettle.

as soon as apollo gets close, kovacs throws a punch. the fucker is a giant fucking side of beef but like hell kovacs is just going to stand there. )

[solarcharged]

[ Later, once this stupid week is over, Apollo will realise that he genuinely doesn't care if Kovacs is naked or not. But right now, after nearly a week of pervasive and all-consuming noise, it's just nice to have something that he can maybe fix.

So he lets Kovacs hit him. It registers somewhere dimly in his mind as a Thing That Has Happened but it doesn't deter Apollo. He's been punched before, he'll be punched again, and this particular punch is not going to stop him any time soon. So he reaches out for Kovacs' shoulder, trying to wrestle him (nakedly) in to a headlock. ]

Put it on. [ The words are said between gritted teeth. ] Put the stupid jumpsuit on.

[resleeves]

No.

( kovacs doesn't know how he does it considering apollo is the size of a fucking jetliner but he manages to wriggle away from him and that stupid jumpsuit. at this point, getting into his clothes would be easier but it's the fucking principle.

with his anger fueling him, kovacs reaches down and grabs the frame of his bed, scattering the thin blanket and pillow on the floor and then he just hauls the entire fucking thing at apollo's watermelon sized head.

maybe he'd get lucky an an edge would smack him in the brain or at least mess up his hair. )

[oddbod]

[Clara hears the commotion from all the way down the hall, and makes her way towards it immediately. Honestly, men. Take a little thing like sleep deprivation, and they manage to turn it into Lord of the Flies.]

Oi, no use adding to the noise-

[Her words trail off, because she gets to the doorway just in time to see a naked man pick up a whole goddamn bed. Her brain recognizes the situation in pieces - "man", "bed", "naked", then finally, "oh shit he's throwing it".]

What the hell is going on? [She bursts in, a small hurricane of confrontation.]

[solarcharged]

[ If he'd been feeling sharper then maybe Apollo would have safely caught the bed, but not today. Not after listening to the worst radio station in the universe for this long. So instead he lashes out, swinging a furious backhand to meet the bed and cut it down mid-fling. The metal wraps itself around his arm as he swipes at it, bending and warping where it impacts with a screech of rending metal, before clattering away to the floor. Heavy space bed meets an immovable object.

At Clara's interruption he turns, wheeling in surprise and breathless with dying rage. He takes a moment, biting back the dizzy, delirious anger. ]

Clara... [ She's smaller than she looked on the network. Although, faced with her indignation suddenly Apollo feels just a fraction smaller himself. The anger subsides, replaced with something a little bit like embarrassment. ] Hey.

[resleeves]

( well, there went it bed. he has no idea why he thought that had been a good idea but, in the absence of a chair, the bed had been the easiest thing to grab and chuck at someone. too bad that someone was a fucking brick house.

fucking unfair. he watches his bed splinter and actually fucking wrap around apollo like a fucking scarf and all he can really do is stand there and stare.

he's just about to launch himself at apollo one more time when another voice pipes up near the door and kovacs stops in his tracks.

it occurs to him that attacking apollo now, while he was distracted, might have worked but he doesn't. this seems kind of ridiculous now. )

We were having a disagreement.

( an understatement. )

Apollo doesn't agree with my choice of attire.

( or lack thereof. )

[oddbod]

[Oh, good. Great.]

I'm not sure most people would. [She finally turns towards him, keeping her eyes firmly on his, trying to ignore any... bits.] Put on the jumpsuit, Kovacs.

[Said 100% as though she's speaking to a twelve-year-old who's chewing gum in her class.]

[solarcharged]

[ Put on the jumpsuit, Kovacs, she says and Apollo's expression transforms. The complete embarrassment the whole situation gives way to a savage little moment of exasperated triumph instead; Apollo throws up his hands in relief. ]

Oh my god -- thank you.

[ See, Kovacs!! ]

[resleeves]

You both do realize you're standing in my fucking room, right? Where I can do what I want?

( they could see that, right? RIGHT? )

I can be here and not be fucking clothed, thank you.

( so, he was just going to stick his hands on his hips and refuse to put on the jumpsuit no matter how authoritative clara sounds. )

I don't go to your rooms and tell you what the fuck to do.

[oddbod]

[... Okay, he makes a valid point, but that doesn't mean she concedes. Instead, she looks over at Apollo, brows still furrowed.]

What's all the hassle for, then?

[solarcharged]

Nothing wrong with getting naked in your own room, behind closed doors.

[ Apollo gestures pointedly at the space where Kovacs' door had once stood. ]

You don't have a door. Literally anybody can see you right now! There are teenagers on board, for God's sake...

[ Apollo gives Kovacs a look, determinedly meeting his eyes and not an inch further down, and archly adds: ]

If any of us wanted to see you naked, we'd tell you. [ He won't. ] Until then, keep it where we can't see it.

[resleeves]

Get out of my room.

( this would all be solved so quickly if he put his clothes on but he's just doing everything he can to piss apollo off now. it's a thing. a thing he's good at too since apollo's standing there wearing his fucking bed. )

The time you've spent arguing with me about my fucking dick is time you could have spent trying to shut off this goddamned music.

( PRIORITIES, APOLLO. )

[oddbod]

[Oh, for heaven's sake!]

That's what I've been trying to do for six bloody days and six bloody nights, before you two interrupted me with this juvenile dick-measuring contest. I had thirteen-year-old students back home who behaved better. So you can put on your damn jumpsuit, or you can fix your door. Two choices, Kovacs.

[resleeves]

And if I do neither?

( he has no fucking idea how to fix his door and he's still being fucking stubborn for the hell of it when it comes to clothes. )

You gonna have Big Dickhead Walking over here kill me?

( bring it on, fuckface. )

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo was almost mollified by Clara's intervention. Almost. But then Kovacs opens his mouth again and Apollo's fragile moment of sanity begins to unravel again. He flings the remnants of the broken bed on the floor and points an accusing finger Kovacs's way. ]

You just don't know when to stop, do you?

[ CLARA MAKE HIM STOP ]