thespaceopera: (automatic)
Voices from Heaven ([personal profile] thespaceopera) wrote in [community profile] driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am

Sweet dreams are made of these...

[ Calibration Rooms ]
( for A-M characters )
Before you post your topcomment, please:
1. Check the first letter of your character's name as its written in our tags. A-M names comment here, and N-Z names go to the other post.
2. Make a note in your topcomment if anything especially triggering or graphic might show up in the Calibration. If you're not sure if something's worth noting or not, we suggest listing it anyway, just to err on the side of caution.
3. Put your character's name (it can be shortened or different from the tag, this time) in the subject of your comment. This will help visitors find you easily, and help us update the list below.
4. Post your comment! It's fine if everyone's Calibrations end up looking and reading very different from one another. As long as you're having fun and following our guidelines, you're good to go. :)
5. If you have any questions or concerns during Calibrations, you are welcome to send them towards the mod team at any time, as always.

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
  • birdsbirdsbirds: (♠ don't leave me here)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-10-22 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Robin, after a long pause, clicks his tongue.

    it is somewhat telling that he's not surprised, exactly... this isn't where he's supposed to be, but the door and the smells and the confusing assortment of vaguely horrible things are kind of just par for the course. they even gave him a knife, whoever it is, which is more than he usually gets.

    but there is no horrible whispering in his ear about what a wretched, useless person he is, which is actually the first clue that this isn't just all happening in his own head. Abigail is, after a moment of consideration, the second clue.

    the evidence, first, whichever is nearest. "veritas" means nothing him, but that won't stop him from picking up a bag with his free hand, just to see if there's anything else about it he's missing.]
    versusnurture: (➵ & your bishops & castles)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-10-26 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
    [In the vial inside the bag, there are a few drops of liquid, nearly clear but with a brownish tint. It had a distinct smell, earthy rather than chemical, not terribly dissimilar from kombucha tea.]

    [In a moment of wild coincidence, when he picks up the vial, a few more vials fall from . . . hammerspace, possibly, and bounce off his head, unless he's quick enough to catch them. They all contain the same liquid. In fact, the only difference seems to be that each of these vials is slightly larger, and each has a shrike skull etched onto the front of the glass.]
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♣ this is severely uncomfortable)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-10-26 05:47 am (UTC)(link)
    [the sullen tone of his investigation is immediately ruined as something bounces off his head--he catches it before it can hit the ground, snatching up the second and third as well. if any calibration manifestation or audience members are actually watching, it's hard to say what's more entertaining--his startling, inhuman display of dexterity, or the scandalized look on his face while he does it.]

    Oy! [he is now holding entirely too many things, looking up as if someone could be blamed for sending them directly at his head like that.] What the fuck?
    versusnurture: (➵ she went out & found)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-10-26 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
    [From behind him, there's a giggle. It's very clearly loopy, and also a little malicious, but at the same time it's pretty clear that the giggler is having fun. No points for guessing where it's coming from.]

    [In another moment of wild coincidence, a covered crucible drops onto Robin's head as well, something bonking around inside it as it goes.]
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♠ i've got thirteen steaks over here)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-10-26 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)
    Augfuck-- [a flinch and--wow, he caught it in the crook of his elbow. now he is definitely holding too many things. he turns on his heel, facing the kitchen scene again, complaining towards the Abigail on the counter whether she seems all-there or not.]

    I'm sorry, was I taking the nightmare dimension too seriously for you? Should I have led in with a kitchen pun, instead?

    [he finally looks down to check out the differences on those vials.]

    Or juggling, if this is any clue...

    [ah, a little bird skull, etched like the tattoo on the monster-woman's face from "back then". much too round for a crow or a robin. he has a couple of guesses as to which cute, harmless-looking bird this could be.]
    versusnurture: (➵ of the waves slap)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
    [Credit where it's due, she does look a little more there than she did a minute ago. Her eyes are a little brighter when she giggles again, kicking her feet against the island like a very small girl perched very high.]

    The Romans used to kill flamingos just to eat their tongues. And your tongue is very feisty.

    [Birds again. What on earth could that mean. Maybe she sees you.]
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♠ nel put your pants back on)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 12:43 am (UTC)(link)
    [birds, birds, birds... he looks up from the vials to see her kicking, but the vague threat (or very backwards compliment comparing his language to a delicacy, if you squint) doesn't seem to deter him. his expression only goes flatter.]

    It's a good thing I'm not a flamingo, then. Who are the Romans? [a beat, he looks down again.] Or what. A Roman, maybe. Your ear looks lovely, by the way.

    [boy, he is not from Earth. and boy, does he not bother separating those two things with a logical pause or any change in tone. he starts to walk over the other evidence bags, towards Abigail, as he'd very much like to put some of these things down on the counter next to her.]
    versusnurture: (➵ that ship that's only)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 12:51 am (UTC)(link)
    [Abigail is normally very reserved. The point of psilocybin, however, is to relax someone, to force them to let their guard down so that new and wickeder things can sneak in. So she kicks her feet harder instead of speaking right away, her heels going kick kick kick against the island.]

    The Romans, [she drawls, her speech slurred, her eyes shining,] were an ancient civilization that lasted in one way or another for two thousand years. They conquered, like, most of Europe. That's a continent. And a bunch of Asia. But then they fucked up because nobody can have that kind of power--

    [And as soon as he gets close enough to reach the counter, she hops off and into his arms whether he likes it or not, knocking all of his carefully-balanced parcels to the floor in one fell swoop. If he catches her, she'll giggle again; if not, she'll land on both feet but stay leaning against him, swaying slightly.]

    --without abusing it.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (BROW ♠ or we could not do that)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
    [of course he catches her. everything goes clattering against the floor while he's busy using both hands to keep her upright--because for a split-second, she's not a monster or a manipulator or the master of a nightmare dimension. she's just a drunk girl who'll smack her face on something if she's not careful.

    a second of surprise later, he remembers the rest. he steps pointedly on the rolling crucible, putting the breaks on its concentric journey around his leg.

    what a frustrating girl. he's disgustingly charmed.]


    You're a brat.
    versusnurture: (➵ surprise you to find)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
    [Yes, so, giggling: it's happening. Giggling and kicking her feet some more, but more gently so as not to dislodge herself. She likes being held by him; it's not so much that she trusts him, more that she likes the honest dishonesty of him. She remembers that much, even in here.]

    A bratwurst is a sausage. [Her tone is lofty.] I am not a sausage. I am poultry, or veal, but not a sausage. I was elevated, see? Better than pigs. Closer to God, or the devil. See?

    [She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, wriggling gleefully. Then, as an afterthought, since he has been sweet and kind to her in his own way and thus opened a door that wasn't supposed to be unlockable in the first place, she leans up and stage-whispers:]

    My ear is in the crucible.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♦ in case his username wasn't clear)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 04:56 pm (UTC)(link)
    [he puts up very patiently with being hugged and wriggled on. it's his natural instinct to stop trying to hold her like a lady, letting her sit propped up on his arm like a child instead. like one of his siblings, a long, long time ago.

    so he doesn't actually mind all that much. besides, 'I am not a sausage' is one of the silliest things he's ever heard announced by a human being.

    oh, but then the twist, the reveal, the mystery is solved. he... looks back down at the jar under his foot, and then he looks up at the rest of the room, and then he looks back up at as much of Abigail's face as he can manage, what with her being very close to his face and all.

    and he stage-whispers back:]
    That's kind of a weird place to keep your ear.

    [not that he can think of many better places to keep one, but... he looks back down.]

    Should I go get it?
    versusnurture: (➵ & tackles her)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Giggle. Giggle. Giggle! She kicks her feet very gently and hugs him tighter, probably what would be too tight if he weren't so obviously not a person at all, and shakes her head.]

    No no no. It's not important. I don't need it anymore.

    [Which appears to be true: at some murky point in the last few minutes, she has lost an ear - returned to the physical state she appeared in on her first day. She doesn't seem even slightly bothered by this.]

    Besides, it's evidence. Just like the tea. For people who have to solve the mystery, solve the crime. It's a whodunnit. Except I already know whodunnit and he's de-a-ad.

    [Sing-song! And then she leans in close and boops Robin's nose with her nose. Boop!]

    I really like you, though. So I can solve all the mysteries for you.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♣ but bears aren't on dope)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 08:06 pm (UTC)(link)
    [ah. he's been booped on the nose.

    it takes the span of a slow blink to move past it, acknowledge any of the other things that are probably much more important. his eyes stay a little wide, though. he doesn't remember the last time someone booped him on the nose.]


    ... On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think I'll need my arms?

    [seeing as he only has one available, at the moment. the other is committed to holding up Abigail, which he's already assumed is going to just be his lot in life for the next however-many hours.]
    versusnurture: (➵ everybody's looking for something)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
    Ummmm.

    [She rolls her eyes ceilingward, thinking thinking thinking . . . not seeming to notice his confusion . . . thinking. Eventually:]

    Not much. Because it's my head and I know where everything is in it now? Most things. The important ones. Not the ones that are like - why do I like the things I like? What am I going to be when I get old? What's the prettiest hair color? But the big things, I can unlock those. So I'll be your arms and your eyes.

    [A beat. And again: boop!]

    And your ear.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♥ hey buddy! we're buddies!)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
    [that last bit, finally, gets him right in the giggles.

    he tips his head forward while he tries to not crack up at the tiny throwaway joke regarding her missing an ear, but there's still a bright little smile on his face when he looks back up.]


    I'll tell you a secret. I hate these rooms anyway. If we already know the ending, I'd much rather it be a guided tour.

    [his weight shifts, he lifts his foot, he boots that little crucible politely away from the both of them.]

    I'll have a name for you by the end of it. I'm afraid Coil already got the Shrike, the creepy little bastard...
    versusnurture: (➵ the barren trees & fields of snow)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
    [Eeeee, he laughed! Even as messed up as she is right now, she's thrilled about that, and just - snuggles closer, smiling up at him happily. There goes the crucible, and she's just fine with that too.]

    Coil? I don't know Coil. Or if I know him I don't know I know him. But it's okay - the Shrike was my dad, and I'm not him, so I'll be something else.

    What kind of thing do you want first? A good thing or a bad thing? Or some tea?
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♥ lost my phone number can i have yours)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
    Oh, definitely don't want to name you the same as your serial-killer dad. That would be tacky.

    [he's all right letting her do all the snuggling, but... in light of the moment, and since he doesn't have a crucible to pick up anymore, he decides it won't kill him to wrap his other arm around her shoulders and give her a little squeeze. because she has also been sweet and kind to him, and now they're about to go on a little adventure, and he's actually kind of looking forward to it.]

    I'll pick... A bad thing, first. Maybe some tea after, if I'm all traumatized.

    [or maybe not, if he loses the stomach for it. either way, he would rather see something nice after something terrible, rather than let a good thing get ruined by the following tragedy.]
    versusnurture: (➵ but while you were busy)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-06 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
    A bad thing first.

    [She nods, feeling secure in his arms. More so than she would be if she were sober, but not that much more, because she thinks if he was going to hurt her he'd have done it already. For a moment she just thinks, bites the inside of her cheek, hm hm hm, and then nods decisively.]

    Is it okay if we start from the beginning? And . . . is it okay if they're--

    [Her happy smile shifts quickly to a sharp frown; she looks down, focus on the neckline of Robin's shirt.]

    They're mostly bad things . . . maybe I can come up with better ones for you. Go stand by the antlers?

    [They have to start there.]
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♦ legit how he sits 80% of the time)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-06 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
    [he looks past the three alternating men, towards where he needs to be... and starts picking his way over. he's careful to avoid touching anything else on the counters or floor around them (a little harder with him carrying a young adult around with him).

    his own smile eases away with his steps. he doesn't want to get cocky.]


    It's okay if they're mostly bad things. That would be-- [a huff, in the shape of a short laugh.] --Familiar, at the very least.

    [and he prefers the beginning, honestly. it may not be as pressing as the things at the front of the room, and it's certainly not as eye-catching as the corpse... but bad memories are nothing but fleeting nightmares, if they're never given context to build on.

    and here they are. he gets up pretty close.]
    Like this?
    versusnurture: (➵ my eye is my sanctuary)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-07 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
    Familiar. Yeah.

    [She leans on him a little bit more as they cross the room to the rack of antlers. It's nice. He's nice. Sharp-edged and dangerous, but nice, and she thinks he could probably hurt her if he wanted to, but it doesn't seem like he wants to. So it's okay to let him hold her. To be a little tired.]

    [Last time she was in this room like this, she was dying. Again. So much dying, it's so silly. She's not going to die anymore. That's part of what makes her so confident, is that she knows that she just won't do it.]

    [They're close now, so she reaches up, lets her fingers hover half an inch from the nearest tine before pausing and looking at Robin as if she's just remembered she's forgotten something.]


    Oh. Before we start, you should know - Abigail. It means "father's joy".

    [And then she taps the tip of the tine like a princess pricking her finger on a spindle, and the room melts away around them, all Dali-clocks-in-the-desert fluidity, walls sliding down to nothing like molassese or clotted blood. What's revealed in the absence of the sterile kitchen is an autumn forest, beautiful in orange and red, and a girl - Abigail, naturally - with a rifle over her shoulder. Next to her - hovering just behind her, really - is the same balding man from the room, only he looks much more alive now, quietly pleased with her progress.]

    [He says something to her that can't be heard, and she cocks the rifle and shoots, just one shot. An animal falls; turn and you'll see it's a deer, a doe, young and healthy and looking very surprised to be bleeding out.]

    [The woods are crowded in on all sides, then, by racks of antlers, and when the clattering commotion of their approach clears, they've been confined by a dark log cabin, a hunting lodge. Here is the same girl and her father, as well as the same doe, dead now and laid out on the table. The girl has a knife in her hand, and she's scared. She doesn't want to cut open the doe's belly and let her guts spill out. But her father takes her face in his broad hands and hushes her:]


    Use every part of the animal. Otherwise it's just murder.

    [So she steels herself and turns and slits the doe's belly bottom to top, and once she's reached the top of her slice, the doe's head falls back and she isn't a doe anymore, she's a girl with dark hair and pale skin and blue eyes . . .]

    [Blood washes over the scene in a rush, although it never touches the onlookers; when it slops away like the ebbing tide, it reveals a train. The girl is sitting across from her father. He looks eager; she looks nervous. When he spots his prey, he gives her a look. It's clear they've done this before. Reluctantly, with horror in her eyes, she stands and slips past him - but once she gets into the aisle she's all sunny shy smiles, a girl who's not used to traveling alone but determined to make friends all the same.]

    [She walks down the aisle like she doesn't have a target in mind, and when she sees the other girl, the one who looks like her, with dark hair and pale skin and blue eyes, she leans in slightly and asks:]


    Is this seat taken?

    [. . . And the scene fades, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen again, save for the three speechless father-phantoms. Abigail lowers her hand from the rack of antlers and sighs.]

    Gross.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♦ department of human disasters)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-08 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
    [he almost thanks her for the explanation (people rarely think to give them)--but his words are quickly eclipsed by the melting room. he is a very good audience, keeping still and watching quietly, taking in everything as neutrally and as attentively as he can.

    Robin has met and talked to and even peeked into the minds of many, many murderers over the course of his life. catching serial killers was practically a part-time job of his, back home. so this is disturbing, but not particularly surprising.

    what surprises him is that the victims both have dark hair and blue eyes. others, he assumes, would have followed the same pattern. Abigail, the girl in his arms right now, grew up in the roles of both an accomplice and a target for her father's mania.

    she may not have fully realized it, at the time, but she obviously knows it now.

    so when the scene finally fades, he doesn't look angry or worried... but he is frowning, looking contemplatively out at the three figures.]


    ... Isolating.

    [she must have been so pitied, so feared, so alienated by both. he knows humans; his own human instinct is to apologize and to distrust, even though he knows she's become a different creature since then.]

    What's the locket for?
    versusnurture: (➵ & tackles her)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-08 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
    [Oh . . . that's a sweet thing to say. Well, not sweet, but - observant. As her hand lowers, she grabs the locket and loops it around his neck, then pinches his cheek.]

    It's a picture? Of me and . . .

    [Leaning over his shoulder, she points at the man with dark hair - Will, although Robin won't know it yet.]

    Him. He killed my dad. There's a memory in it, too, and that's of Will, but, um. Also not. You're supposed to need keys to open it - all those little vials - but.

    [She smiles brightly.]

    I'm your tour guide! So if you want me to open it, I can.
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♣ no seriously guys what happened)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-10 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
    [the sound he makes when she pinches his cheek could only be described as a mildly surprised honk. it's very satisfying. he isn't getting annoyed, but one could extrapolate that he doesn't get his face poked or pinched a whole lot.

    he doesn't linger, though. he looks at the man, glancing briefly at the back of the head of one of the figures in the room--trying to see if they're the same, as much as he can.]


    Ah, that's... [he looks at the locket again, and then finally up at Abigail's smiling face. he's still holding her just as he has been.] I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious, but I think I should give you something in return.
    versusnurture: (➵ oh murderess)

    [personal profile] versusnurture 2015-11-10 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
    [There's only one difference between Will-of-memory and Will-of-the-room, and it's not visible from the back. Will in the memory looked tired, but Will in this room looks exhausted, close to death. In danger - whether from himself or someone else, it's very hard to say.]

    [Abigail gives Robin a chastising look, leaning in to boop his nose in a disciplinary way.]


    That's not how friends work, you know. I learned about this. Friends do things for each other just because, and don't need anything in return.

    If you want to give me something, then I want to have it. But you don't have to.
    Edited (english . . .) 2015-11-10 20:09 (UTC)
    birdsbirdsbirds: (♥ sometimes he's not awful)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds 2015-11-10 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
    Oh.

    [and what else is there to say to that? he's surprised, having this explained to him. and then having to think about it--because it makes sense, he's heard people say that, but he sure doesn't follow it or believe it himself. he's a very selfish creature, there's almost nothing he does that doesn't get him something in return.

    then again, he also doesn't have many friends.

    so he thinks about it for a moment, trying to decide if he's all right with all of that--and admittedly reeling with the thought of her doing all of this for him but turning down an equivalent exchange...]


    ... Okay, I've changed my mind. I want to ask you a question.

    [he lifts his hand... so he can boop her on the nose with his finger. smiling.]

    But I'm going to wait, I might find my answer if we keep going.

    (no subject)

    [personal profile] versusnurture - 2015-11-10 22:37 (UTC) - Expand

    (no subject)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds - 2015-11-11 00:03 (UTC) - Expand

    (no subject)

    [personal profile] versusnurture - 2015-11-11 03:11 (UTC) - Expand

    (no subject)

    [personal profile] birdsbirdsbirds - 2015-11-16 19:45 (UTC) - Expand