voyagers | [party post] come sail away with me

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[party post] come sail away with me

You've come through a door, and you are on a boat. Specifically, you're on a cruise ship in the middle of some giant body of water. You've come through the door behind you which is attached to nothing and may now be locked. It's relatively empty as giant as it appears to be. The only other passengers that are here appear to also have come through the door for the most part and it is not nearly enough to fill up this entire cruise ship.

Also, who knows who the hell is driving this thing since all of the employees appear to be either ghosts or holograms...

Is this your first time here or your hundredth time here? Do you want a drink or a dip in the pool? Is it day or night? Do you stumble on your room or some other situation either fun or painful within its many rooms, shops, and facilities? Do you run into someone you know or a complete stranger?

The possibilities are unlimited!

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"I did that once! And I... ended up in the universe that person who opened the door came from," Peter answers, tilting his head to the side. "It was awkward. Some type of world where spandex wasn't a thing and big burly guys with clubs were."

Not his shiniest moment. ...why does he never talk about his shiny, heroic moments? Ever?

Peter loves sleep when he... gets the sleep, but he doesn't really get the sleep very often, because he tends to be pretty wound tight. Thankfully, he has his girlfriend, falling asleep with her is much easier than trying to live by himself and fall asleep then. He'd never be able to sleep, never let himself, wound up too tightly to relax.

Mary Jane has a very wonderful relaxing, centering effect on him though.

"Might be it, yeah," he says, and there's the sound of a smirky smile in his voice. "I should think about a move maybe. Chicago, windy cities, deep dish pizza, and people appreciate you."

Hey, Peter likes the deep dish pizza though okay he prefers the thin crust over all.

It'ts a thing. Peter shakes his head in answer. "That's a really smart idea, but I did that one of the first few times I came through out of sheer boredom, and there wasn't a pattern that I could see. Sucks."

Helen grins and then chuckles, "Oh, don't worry about that." she tells him brightly with a quick shake of her head, "My mom would probably kill me, don't think I'm gonna take that risk."

Helen nods, taking that in. She hadn't really thought about going home; she was having too much fun here exploring to really remember that there's that big door in the middle of the deck to take her home. Well... eventually? "What, you mean you're here for however long, then you go home again? Huh.."

She takes his hand with hers and give it a quick shake. If John's paying attention, he might notice her skin's a little on the cool side than one might consider normal. "I'm Helen. Nice to meetcha."

A thoughtful pause, her brow furrows. "So we get our own rooms?" she says, "Ain't that like someone's expecting us? Sounds... I don't know, bit creepy?"

Damon tilts his head to the side at that response, narrowing his gaze. He's usually pretty good at getting a read on someone else. Usually doesn't mean all the time, but he does seem to be relatively serious about that.

"Well, that is a daily ritual that I can actually appreciate though I have to wonder how your liver is holding up spending every day, emptying cases and wine cellars," he says though obviously, there's the chance this man isn't human like Damon isn't, but he isn't about to make that assumption based on wine consumption alone (okay, that is actually a glaring flag assuming he's not the type to exaggerate, and he doesn't seem like the type

to exaggerate, but again, he's having difficulty getting a solid read on him, which is impressive much as Damon prefers to read everyone with ease).

"Sounds like a pretty good rule to me," Peter says with a soft smile as he looks sideways at her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans a bit as he rocks forward on his feet.

He breathes in deeply, nodding when she thanks him. "Don't mention it." Really, he's happy to do so, and it's--

Peter breathes in sharply at the question, sliding his hand up through his hair with a bit of a shrug as he shakes his head. "Uh, I-- A lot of people. Disaster was kind of big... where I was from, and it happened all the time. Some people I knew." And loved. "Some I didn't." And all of them, he let down.

Logan watches her as she drains her glass, and he lets out a rough breath, listening, listening, but he can't hear the sounds of anyone else at least not near. There's just the sound of the waves that make him feel unsteady.

"Always. Want to have a better look around this place anyway." He steps away from the bar, swallowing the temptation to bring a bottle with him. It's not like he'd get very drunk off of it no matter how much he downed, but he wants his hands (and claws) free.

Audrey cringes a bit at that. Okay. Trying other people's doors is bad. Got it. She continues walking, looking over everything for a moment as she tries to formulate her next question. "So you just ... wait until your door reopens, even if you have no idea when that will be?"

She shrugs. She doesn't regret her death. Not that she necessarily wanted to die, but it kept her son alive, which is the important thing. Tyler would always be the important thing, even if there were times she did a terrible job of showing it.

"It happens. I've been here a few months now. I've been working at ... moving forward."

"Me too," she nods softly, one hand wandering to his shoulders as they walk, a gentle reminder that he's there, and this isn't some figment of her imagination after being stuck on a boat for so long. "I'm glad you're here too. I've missed you."

Just because they're dumb doesn't mean they're not capable of doing damage. It isn't so much about the intelligence, but the intent. A killer instinct is still a killer instinct, and for zombies - or walkers, in this case - all they know is the need to feed. They will do whatever it takes. Sometimes not having intelligence as a distraction can be helpful.

Not that it's right, but it's true.

"Oh. So kind of like zombies then." He nods. "They don't really have those where I'm from."

"I knew what I was getting into," he says gently, stilling in her walk until she gets a hold of herself again. He accepted the risks the minute he offered, and he'd rather help her than leave her to fend for herself. That's the kind of guy he is. "Just take your time. Whatever happens, I'll be okay."

"He learned to shoot on a deserted island with a boy he made for himself. I don't think there's a whole lot he can't work with."

See, the thing about Lois Lane is, vigilantes and superheroes are pretty much one and the same in her mind. They do what they have to do to protect people and none of them are perfect, but in the end they save the day. That's the part that matters.

That being said, who is she to classify someone for them?

"Fine. Vigilante then. How's that working out for you?"

"You'd be surprised," she replies, getting off at the next landing and holding the door for him so he can come in behind her. "The people who planned our 'activities' knew how to get creative, at least."

And yes, activities comes with air quotes.

Charlie doesn't have a whole lot of long, long time agos but he can't deny that there is a nagging familiarity to the girl in front of him. He leans closer, studying her for a moment as he tries to place her face, but still, nothing direct is coming to him.

"Well, my memory isn't always the most reliable thing," he says softly. "There are times when I just ... forget." Which he is sincerely apologetic for. He doesn't mean to. "Are you from Chicago?"

His arms come around her easily - one of the few people in all the worlds he can hug with ease. It's hard to know what to do with hugs, when all is said and done, but here, he knows exactly what's needed. He slips his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him, and letting her hold on for as long as she wants.

"It is good to see you again."

Which is an understatement, considering he thought he never would. When all is said and done, it's good to have his best friend back.

"If anything, this place might have actually done me a favor," Bela murmurs in an off-handed way. "It got me out of a fairly sticky situation."

Which is an understatement, because she was about to die and have her soul dragged to hell. Whoops. But at least the ship is a nice back up plan. And seems to have done the job well for the most part.

"I'm not usually that lucky."

There were times, in the distant past, when the fleeting thought crossed John's mind: would he have turned out different had his mother survived having him? Had she been around for him to say, "I can't, my mum would kill me?"

He'll never know. But it concerns him that whatever is behind this ship is pulling girls still young enough to worry about that kind of thing here. He doesn't like it.

He lets none of that show on his face. "Pleasure, Helen. And yeah, bit creepy. But since we don't know how long we'll be here for each time, the room's good to have. D'you want help figuring out which one's yours?"

"All right." She hops down, smoothing down her uniform, all business. Not unkindly; it's just clear that she's ready to take on the rest of the day and whatever else it brings.

"So we came from the deck... do you want to keep going further into the ship?"

"Thanks, Don. You're a hell of a nicer guy than the cops I'm used to back in L.A." She grins up at him; it's weak but the teasing intent is still there. "Better looking, too."

She needs to close her eyes again for a few moments, clutching his arm until she's sure she'll be all right. "Did I hear you right earlier: you said you had riot gear back in your room? You have a room?"

Mark smiles despite the emotion in his chest. There is a lot of pain in it, but he knows this is real too, because of the way she hugs him back, the way she feels in his arms like she always has. He is so happy to see her even as his heart breaks with it too. His expression crumples a bit as he nods when she stammers the words, and he lifts up a hand to wipe the tears from her face as reassuringly as he can. Even when he's fighting tears of his own, and he swallows thickly as his hand moves down to rest his hand against her arm.

"One hundred percent," he says in agreement, nodding in confirmation as he looks at her. There really aren't words to describe everything that he feels, how happy he feels to see her and how relieved he is that she is okay. "I know. I know. It's-- It happened so fast. We had warning, and it still... happened really, really fast."

And he moves in to hug her tightly again so she knows he is real. He is real and so is she. Mark nods against her with a tiny laugh. "It wasn't. Which is really, really good, because saying goodbye to you--" Mark shakes his head. It's-- It's really, really hard.

Mark laughs too, shaking his head a bit as he looks back, pulling back enough to have a look at their surroundings. "I haven't ever been on one before either, but I always wanted to go?" Tiny, lopsided smile, and he's already letting his brain work to try to think up the possibilities. His eyes still bloodshot from emotion. "Things keep looking up! Maybe."

"...basically. I have been waiting for awhile, and spandex is a huge pain to wear all the time, but I don't want to miss the chance to go back or have it pull me through unsuspecting. That happens too. Sometimes you just... get pulled through the door without warning. Back to your world," Peter says, and he's done both things before. He's walked back out to the moment and place that he left, and he's been... dragged back when he didn't want to go.

"...wow, so that is actually pretty impressive, and I tend to find not much impressive."

At least when he is in the suit, but that may be mostly because he is dealing with bad guys like all the time. They generally aren't impressive (and when they are? it's important to not let them know that you think that), but Peter's good with the bravado.

Sometimes it feels like he's slipping into someone else when he puts on the suit, but that's not completely accurate either.

There's a pause at the question. Pauses aren't totally normal for him in the Suit but the answer to that question for Peter Parker is complicated. "Great. Rounding up baddies seven days a week. I don't have a bow, but I do have web shooters. It goes with the whole spider theme."

"I've missed you too. A lot." It's hard sometimes, how much he misses her. He never missed his dad much -- which sounds terrible but is kinda true anyway. But his mom? He misses her constantly. He feels like ever since she died he's been just treading water, trying to just survive, but it's exhausting.

"He's a pretty impressive guy." And she misses Oliver, more than words will ever say.

"Yeah, I caught on to that," Lois smirks, amused. Of all the themes to work with, "spider" isn't one she would have gone with. Then again, given her attempt at superherodom was called "Stiletto" she really isn't one to talk. "Why did you go with ... spiders, exactly?"

Flack smirks a bit back at that. "See, the NYPD is much better equiped to serve the needs of their public. The fact that we're better looking is just an added bonus."

He can hear the intent and will play along. Frankly, he's just grateful she's not trying to chew him out. All the same, he nods as he turns to one of the doors next to him, rapping lightly on the door under the name plate.

"Apparently they're all assigned."

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[party post] come sail away with me

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