( 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

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 ]

[oddbod]

Shut up, both of you! [Her voice echoes and amplifies in the small room, stern but cool. God, she has really reached her limit with men.] You're acting like complete children.

[To Apollo, ] Just quit while you're barely ahead, and stop making things worse.

[Then, to Kovacs, her head whipping around towards him, ] And you. Punching windows, championing genocide, acting like an infant who won't mind his babysitter. Is there something you get out of all this? Is there something fun about pissing off everyone you're trapped here with?

[resleeves]

Yes, there's many fun things about pissing everyone off. You should try it sometime. You might be surprised at how much you like it.

( can they both just get out of his fucking room? can they both just fucking leave him alone and get back to saving everyone who wasn't him? )

If you don't fucking like it, leave. Fucking leave. This station could be crashing into that fucking planet and you all are too busy whining about my clothes.

( #PRIORITIES. )

[solarcharged]

[ He opens his mouth to say something, to push back even further, but Clara's words strike home more accurately than Kovacs' do. Apollo throws his hands up sharply, turning away furiously. ]

Fine. I'm out. I'm gone.

[ He pauses at the doorway, turning back to point again accusingly at Kovacs. ]

But if I see your naked body so much as one inch out this stupid door, I'm going to be the one throwing a bed at you.

[oddbod]

If we could just keep all the furniture on the floor, please!

[Clara clutches her temple, and makes for the door as well. Oh, how she longs for her year sevens, with their chewing gum and their rap music. Beacons of maturity, really. Kovacs could learn a few things.]

Kovacs, just keep that in your own room if you don't want to wind up out the airlock. And Apollo... maybe take a walk. Cool down.

[resleeves]

Go away.

( so he could go out of his fucking mind in peace. )