Sweet dreams are made of these...

[thespaceopera]

[ Calibration Rooms ]
( for A-M characters )

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ROOMS BY CHARACTER

A Abigail Hobbs Aiya/Gray Nightingale Adrasteius Anor'thalion Ahsoka Tano Alex Russo Allen Walker Anders Anthony Crowley Asteffiel Axel

B - D Belthazar Spellscry Beverly Crusher Bran Stark Caesar Zeppeli Cayde-6 Cheese Sandwich Clay Terran Coil Cole Davesprite Duke Pantarei

E - I Elecman.exe Elena Gilbert Elize Lutus Felix Harrowgate Fenris Finrod Haruka Tenoh/Sailor Uranus Imperator Furiosa Isabela Issac Lahey

J - M Jade Harley James Barnes/Jim James Barnes/Winter Joseph Joestar Katara Katniss Everdeen/Nova Kirito/Kazuto Kirigaya Kurt Wagner Leanne Loki Maladict(a) Max Caulfield Megaman Mordin Solus

Comments

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[he hasn't seen a room like this in a very long time... but being in the hallway bothers him, so he doesn't take a whole lot of time to sit and think here like he did with the other ones.

he's starting to get the hang of this--so he ducks quickly into the office to get himself a little space and see if he can solve the mystery before it starts. who's head is this supposed to be?]

[onlyanapple]

[Well, he's picked the right room for that. The office has a large desk in the center of it, upon which rests a sleek computer. It looks like a porsche with a screen. Very fancy. Beside it rests one sleek, black feather. Despite the prestiness of the room, there's an odd black mark on the carpet, a little like tar. There's also a poster on the wall with what looks like Morgan Freeman on it, with some motivational slogan written underneath. A tyre iron lays propped up on the wall nearby the poster. An answering machine sits on the desk, the light is blinking. It has a message. Do you check out:

A: The computer
B: The mark on the carpet
C: The poster
D: The feather
E: The tyre iron
F: The answering machine

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[whew, okay. this is a little bit more manageable. he takes a little bit of time to look at everything, still clueless as to who this place could belong to... and not just because the joy of Morgan Freeman's face is entirely lost on him.

actually, the feather is what really snags his attention. he can't help it--the answering machine, the black mark, and even the tire iron would have been a more interesting, obvious choice, but it's the stupid feather that has him walking over to try and pick it up.]

[onlyanapple]

[As soon as he touches the feather, the room vanishes. He finds himself somewhere else. Somewhere up in the clouds, and yet not at the same time. There's the remnants of a huge battle going on, but it's clear one side is losing, badly. Winged people drop like stones, screaming in agony. They seem to be dropping into a great void in the ground, fire and brimstone smoking from it. The smell of burnt flesh and feathers hangs in the air ominously. Some of the winged people try to flap their ruined wings away from the hole, or try to grasp the edges, clawing at the ground in desperation to escape. There's no escape for them, though, and they are all pulled to their newly created prison.

You weren't part of the battle, but it doesn't matter. Inaction is the same as treason, it seems. One second you're fine, the next you're filled with white hot pain. You scream as you feel something being wrenched out of you. There are some remnants, left clinging to your shattered form, but you're in too much pain to notice that just yet. All you know is your Grace is gone and the world is a horrific place without it. You're not you any more. You're something darker, something damaged. Nothing makes sense any more, and all you can hear are the screams of your brothers and sisters who are equally damned.

And then you Fall. The memory fizzles out before you land in that horrible gaping hole, and Robin will find himself once again in the office. ]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[oh. he saw this in a book, once.

he has other thoughts, of course. things more like where is this and what is happening, as he tries to take in the massive scope of the battle. the prison yawns under them worse than any cave, and some sort of panic shoots through him when he realizes he's going to go there too.

no, no no no. that's not fair. it's all he had, why would it do that?

he's already hissing when the room comes back, breathing the start of some horrible swear through his teeth, even though the whole syllable never quite comes out. he's too busy hunching into himself, shoulders up, smashing his palms against his eyes to calm down.

mean. that was mean. he probably dropped the feather, but that's the last thing he's thinking of right now.]

[onlyanapple]

[At least he;s survived one of the demon's worst memories. He should probably take a minute, though. Gather himself, and all that. The feather floats down to the ground, where it remains there. ]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[fantastic. he's so honored.

it makes him shudder, but once he's able to swallow that and look around the room without feeling distinct and terrible otherness, he gives the room another look-over. that was bad, but... still, no representative around to say anything?

he doesn't want to stick around this room very much anymore, but he doesn't want to just... leave because he saw something scary. so, maybe more out of spite than anything, he steps carefully through the room to make his way to the answering machine.

takes him a moment to remember how they work, but he can at least push the right button to make it play...]

[onlyanapple]

[That, it turns out, was the worst possible thing he could have done in the entire calibration. Unlike everything else in Crowley's calibration, there is no memory in here. Not truly. It's much, much worse. A manifestation of everything Crowley truly fears. Of what is waiting for him, back home.

...Or rather, who is waiting for him.

The answering machine rattles, then makes a terrible gurgling sound. The gurgling turns out to be blood, congealing and red hot at the same time, coming up from the speakers of the answering machine like lava. It trails off onto the table, then onto the carpet, making a hissing, bubbling pool there.

A shape that could be mistaken for a clawed hand, covered with the blood, slices its way out of the machine, reaching up, grasping for something. Then there's a voice, coming from the machine. It's hissing and dual toned, it sounds like your worst nightmare fivefold, the sound of something from the deepest pits of Hell. Which is exactly what it is. ]

CRAWLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[Duke Hastur. SHIT. The hand soon stretches out, becomes an arm, soon follows a shoulder, then a head. The thing is misshapen, it's ALMOST human shaped but...only if a human had just been put through a blender. Its eyes are glowing red, and its teeth are razor sharp. It GLARES at Robin with immeasurable hatred. If it catches him, he is super fucked. It chuckles angry and deadly, as it slides out into the pile of blood on the floor. It stands, too tall, too pointy too wrong.]

Your fate will be whispered by mothers in dark places to frighten their young.

[It stretches out its misshapen clawed hand. There's nowhere else to run, no other plan to use to get away. You're done. You don't know what will await you Downstairs, but nothing good. No one has been phenomenally stupid enough to defy the Devil before. They'll probably have to create a whole new set of torments, just for you. Yay. ]

Time to go, Crowley

[It pounces, and then, suddenly, Robin is back in the room. The light on the answering machine has stopped flashing, but of the Duke there is no sign. ]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[and when he returns to the room, he decides... yeah. he's done.

shaken and on-edge, he steps back from the answering machine and heads right for the door. he doesn't even bother being sneaky about it anymore--he flat-out slams the door behind him as he goes back out into the hallway, following it down towards the living room.]

This place is bullshit! [...he calls out, to no one in particular...]

[onlyanapple]

[It's ABSOLUTE bullshit. Still, at least he's found Crowley. LUCKY HIM! He's lounging on the couch, watching the Golden Girls on the sleek TV. He seems to be enjoying it. There's an open window here, again with a houseplant taking pride of place. On the bookshelf, there is a ratty looking book, resting on top of it is a paperweight. On the coffee table, there's another photo album, and laying next to it is the remote control to the television. What do you want to do?

A: Talk to Crowley
B: Look out the window
C: Check out the book
D: Check out the photo album
E: Change the channel

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[after all of that nonsense? he absolutely picks option A.]

Oh, it's you.

[--said with mild surprise, before he goes right back into indignant frustration.]

Your office is trash, Crowley.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley glances towards Robin from his beloved TV show, giving him the flattest possible look he can without making himself two dimensional. ]

You didn't have to go in there, Robin.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

My free will does not affect the state of your office.

[he calls logical falacy on that one, walking over and plopping ungracefully down on the other end of the couch.]

Which I assume you'd rather not talk about anyway.

[onlyanapple]

No, even if you didn't go in there, it would be the same.

[He pulls a face. Ugh.]

Would you want to talk about it?

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Of course. Extensively, and with the sort of intimate delicacy that would bring us instantly and uncomfortably closer as kindred spirits.

[but he says this with such a dry, matter-of-fact tone. it's almost comical, comparing something like that to business... he slumps a little further down the couch, watching whatever is happening on the TV screen.]

[onlyanapple]

[Old lady shenanigans. He stares at Robin for a moment, before scoffing and turning to stare at the screen. ]

...Yeah, I'll pass. Forever.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

I thought so.

[he doesn't look over at Crowley for a second. he lets the pause hang in the air for a moment, one of those pointedly long ones, before he tilts his head a little.]

Hey, guess how old I am.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley turns back again to look Robin up and down. He lets out a soft, thought hum. ]

Older than you look.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Yes. [he nods.] But how old? If you had to guess from my demeanor and... Whatever else gives it away.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley squints, considering. ]

I dunno. Couple centuries? It's hard to tell, what with the fact they all kinds start melding into one big timeframe eventually.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[something about that makes him giggle--this sudden horrible little laugh he's powerless to control. he covers his mouth to be polite, but it doesn't do much, and he starts talking through his fingers anyway.]

Four-thousand, but I understand what you mean. I'm the oldest thing alive, where I'm from.

[is this where he's going to talk about this? now? is that really what his trip to the office deserves? he keeps talking, glancing up at the ceiling.]

Well-- That's not completely true, but "alive" is kind of a stretch for the other two. One of them's this massive, formless thing that's lived in a cave as long as I've known it, and the other finally evaporated half a century ago. Not great conversationalists.

[onlyanapple]

[That laugh is a touch unsettling. Still, he's not about to ask why Robin feels the need to divulge this information now. It puts his relationship with Tek into a new light, for sure.]

Well, that's the joy of a corporeal form. Tends towards a better conversation. Still, congrats on being the oldest thing where you're from that isn't formless nor evaporated.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

Thanks. [a beat.] I didn't really think you'd get it.

[he covers his eyes with the fingers of one hand, very lazily. it's a loose gesture.]

I just want you to understand that it's absolutely miserable. I've been alive longer than anything should be. I have outlasted the fucking mountains. And I thought I was doing pretty well, even with all the lapses and cycles and jumbled thoughts... I can still trick people into thinking I'm all right, most of the time. I still have form and talk in complete sentences.

And then there's fucking... You come along, and you casually mention you've been alive for much longer than I have, and you don't seem like you're having any trouble at all.

[he's so angry. and upset. and useless. and a little bit happy, but he can't really be happy until he's gotten past all the other parts.]

I'm jealous, is what I'm saying. It's not fair, but it's there anyway.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley stares at him for a moment, before letting out a loud 'pah!' of a laugh. ]

Wow. Okay. Wow.

I mean, it's great you think I have it together and all, but it's pretty much a very good disguise from living with humans for six thousand years. You gotta learn not to stand out or suddenly they're exorcising you.

[He sits back, and laughs again, this time a little quieter, a little more self-depreciating. ]

Before I got sucked into Paradisa, I helped avert the apocalypse. My superiors are really fucking pissed off because I did something no demon aught to do. I disobeyed.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[well, hearing this gets something about Robin to change--his attention, maybe. he's still slumped down with his hand over his face, but he's not so absorbed in himself anymore. he's looking at Crowley with genuine interest.

part of him thinks he's not supposed to talk about this kind of thing, but that may only be because there's never been anyone to talk about this kind of thing to.]

Yeah? I think I saw one of them...