driftfleet | 'cause it's better than nothing

[ Calibration Rooms ]
( for N-Z characters )

Before you post your toplevel comment, please:
1. Check the first letter of your character's name as its written in our tags. N-Z names comment here, and A-M names go to the other post.
2. Make a note in your comment 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

N - P

Otono-Tachibana Makie

Q - S

Sandalio "Biffy" de Rabiffano

T - V

W - Z

(last updated: 1/25/19)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Instead of answering Steven's questions it went back to it's basic screen. Steven is more then welcome to try to push more buttons or look at the other objects in the room. He would have to dig to get the answer he is seeking.]

[Steve puts the pad down and looks around the room, curious as to the next thing. He sees the tumbler and the liquor inside. Curious, he walks over to lift it and sniffs at it cautiously to see what it is.]

[Steven would be able to smell the strong scent of liquor. Upon the touch of the glass, the room changed into what looked like a similar office. There were a few small differences. Awards and pieces of art decorated the wall. A large man sat before a desk. He had red hair that was slightly turning silver and he wore a black military uniform that was highly decorated. The uniform looked as if needed a little too snug against the large man. His pale face was blotchy red from anger as he was yelling at a young man before him. On the desk was a half filled tumbler with liquor with an almost empty bottle next to it.

Standing in front of it was a young thin boy who looked to be in a teenager. He wore a dark military like uniform, but done slightly different. It was a school uniform. It hung on him ill-fitted showing his thin frame. He had matching red hair. He did his best to stand before him in parade rest and keep his gaze matching the other's, but it was difficult.

The boy was trying not to put weight on his left ankle. His pale face was bruised and eyelid swollen shut and his lip was bleeding. His hands were bruised and bleeding as well.]

What did I tell you about fighting? Look at you. You're a disgrace. You can barely stand and you're staining my floor with your blood. I told you that if you're going to fight, you fight and hold your own! You can't even defend yourself! Your professor had to pull you out from them!

If you think I'm going to sympathize you....

[He got up from his desk and grabbed a cane that had been hidden from view. The boy couldn't help but tense and show fear when he saw the man reach for it. He knew what was going to happen and tried his best to brace for it.]

No one is going to rescue you and pull you out of your own misses. You need to learn to do it on your own if you want to survive.

[The room darkened and changed back to the empty room that Steven was in.]

[Steve isn't new to the fact that parents beat their own children up. Growing up in the slums meant you lived in the other family's pockets and got to witness every argument. Every drunken brawl. Every time a kid ran out of their house never to return again. Steve saw firsthand the scene he's watching now, just in a different setting with different players. But that doesn't mean it doesn't make his blood boil.

He steps forward a few times, wanting to stop what is happening. He knows intellectually he can't but that doesn't entirely process far enough into his brain to stop the attempts. Especially when that cane is lifted and what is most likely a younger Hux flinches away. How many times was he beaten with that? How many scars is the man carrying?]

God...

[Back in the room he exhales, wanting to punch something]

God, Hux. I am...so sorry. No one deserves to be treated like that...

'cause it's better than nothing

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[CW: abuse]

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