theelmemeium | TEST DRIVE MEME

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!tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to the opening test drive of

theelysium! Invitations are not required to play on the inaugural TDM.

Test drive threads may be considered game canon if all participants wish to maintain the CR developed here. This TDM doubles as an arrival log for the game's opening.

The first application round is closed to friends of the moderators. If you are interested in joining the game but do not know anyone involved, you may reach out to the mod team to request an invitation for the March app round.

If you have any questions about the setting, here are some links to the game's premise and setting information pages.

Thank you for playing! We're excited to have you.

ARRIVAL When you came to, you were mid-conversation with someone you've never seen before, nodding along to instructions that seem to evaporate into the air after they're spoken aloud. You've been welcomed into the industry, given your ID and uniform, and escorted to the back of house. It seemed natural then to just go along with it, to be cordial and pleasant, no matter how insincere it might have been.

They asked you to sit for a while and gather your bearings, and so you sit. The rest settles slowly as you adjust and find the rest of yourself returning. At least the couches are soft.

The room is dark, lit only by a rotating set of colored lights that move across a determined track, bathing the collected employees in bright shades of blue, pink, and violet. Some tables are internally lit in fluorescent shades, surrounding everything in a hazy glow. Distantly, a thumping vibration shakes the southmost wall, indicating something terribly noisy on the other side.

But at the north, a wall panel springs to life, revealing a mustached man who smiles at them warmly. They can try to interject, but it seems to be a prerecorded message; he doesn't pause or acknowledge them in the slightest as he welcomes them.

"Congratulations! We're happy to have you onboard at the finest entertainment venue ever erected. There's still a while before your first shift starts, so why don't you take a couple of hours to make yourselves at home? There are snacks and drinks in the mini fridge, and the schedule is posted out in the costume room. Tap your card to the ATM in the corner if you need to check the balance of your debt or withdraw any chips. We've been bringing in more guests than ever lately, so be sure you take care of them!"

He smiles in a way that someone, somewhere, might have found charming once.

"Remember the big rules. Customer service always comes first. We do what the guests want. And whatever happens here, stays here. Shift schedule's posted right below me, so take a minute to figure out where you're supposed to be. Next shift change happens in an hour, so you should think about getting ready soon if you're on deck. A lot of people were gunning for the job you've got. Don't make us regret bringing you on board."

The message ends and the monitor falls black again, leaving them to their own devices. Those scheduled for the next shift will only have half an hour before they start to feel the compulsion to prepare, to check their makeup and make sure there's no food in their teeth, to clock in and work. But others will have longer to explore before the next shift change. Maybe they're the ones who have enough time to figure out what's happening before things go too far. Maybe there's hope.

WORKING THE EVENT FLOOR Most of the assigned shifts correlate to obvious locations or tasks. Run blackjack at table 46A, stand security at the adult-only entrance on the third floor, hop behind the Starlight Bar and get to mixing drinks.But those scheduled to work on the Event Floor will find their workday dominated by a particular pastiche.

With Valentine’s Day looming soon, the event floor is decked out for romance and decadence. A plush red carpet has been rolled out underfoot, providing a contrast to the white marble gaming tables. Everything is a shade of white, red, or pink, with floral accents and expensive strings of pearls providing a festive touch. Even the cigarette girls and boys are distributing more festive substances, like cigars that burn up in pink smoke.

Everything seems arranged with the intent of bringing people together: the chairs are all a little closer than usual, and even some of the slot machine setups invite two players to share a machine and split their winnings. Staff are informed that several high rollers want to be surrounded by romance, and their job is to help facilitate that. When two neighbors win at roulette, winning chips should be passed over in a way that will all but force players’ hands to touch when they recover their winnings. If a dealer notices a spark between players, it might be the right time to swap to a marked deck and help make sure they win enough for a dopamine release into each other’s arms. Maybe it’s just a friendship! But maybe it can be something more than that. What could be a better icebreaker?

Bartenders on the event floor are given instructions to mix specialty drinks in addition to normal beverages. This time, the Elysium is featuring the following items: hatsukoi fizz, a light beverage that makes a person's mood as bubbly as the champagne tickling their nose, blushing rose, which makes a person a little more coquettish and flirty, the piercing arrow, a strong mix of intoxicants designed to lower inhibitions, and the (only available in Adult playspaces) widow’s kiss, a dark liquor that burns down the throat and spreads out from there, generating an uncontrollable passion that can only be satisfied with physical contact.

Performers will be asked to keep it romantic, largely featuring cabaret ensembles singing round-the-clock love songs and romantic ballads, broken up by ensemble performances of shows called “Venus Delight” and “Queen of Hearts.” Performers in Adults-Only spaces might additionally find themselves dancing a part in “Fête De L'amour” or “Somebawdy to Love.” There are even spaces designed for the lovelorn, and entertainers stationed there may end up guiding singalongs to breakup songs and consoling intoxicated guests who can't get through the chorus of "Love Hurts" without breaking down. If you find yourself signed up to do something embarrassing, just throw some more glitter on yourself to hide whatever’s causing you shame. It’ll be fun if you let it.

FEATURED GAME: CUPID’S CRUSH In addition to the casino standards that are present with a pinkish facelift, the Event Floor provides plenty of places to play a limited-time game tailored to the current theme.

In Cupid's Crush, a group of two to six players around a table are given cards marked "secrets" and "deeds," each respectively symbolizing a hidden truth or a scandalous dare. One by one, each player will decide whether they want to participate in a round. If they’re staying in, they must submit a card from either pile. If a player folds, they are eliminated from the betting pool. Card submissions continue in this way, clockwise, until a player either can no longer play or no longer wants to continue. When their turn comes to play a card, a player can instead opt to trigger the betting phase.

During the betting phase, each player announces how many cards they are willing to pull out of the center pool. Just one truth can’t kill you, right? But telling truths and doing dares are the only way to win this game, so the players around the table will each have the opportunity to either raise the stakes by increasing the previous bid or pass their turn and lose their opportunity. Betting continues, clockwise, until either no players are willing to raise the stakes or one player has declared that they can take on every card in the center, whichever comes first.

When the betting phase is resolved, the player with the highest bid now must flip over the number of cards they declared, in any order they choose. The opposite side of each card declares a secret that must be revealed or provides instructions for an action that must be completed. Once they’ve satisfied all the cards, they are declared the winner of the round. (OOC note: Feel free to consult a generator to help your character reap the consequences of their actions. Take note of the category options to make sure you’re getting prompts that suit the threads you want to have!)

The game ends when one of two possible conditions are met:
(1) A player is unwilling or unable to complete the tasks on the cards set in front of them. If they’ve bitten off more than they can chew, they are immediately declared Crushed.
(2) One player has won two rounds and completed all their challenges. The winning player may then choose which player at the table receives Cupid’s Crush.

Crushed players are the undisputed losers of the game. The penalty for receiving Cupid’s Crush is a sudden overwhelming infatuation with the winning player. (In cases where a player receives a crush after failing to fulfill the cards, the object of the infatuation is chosen by the Dealer.) Whether merely uninterested or actively married to someone else, Cupid’s Crush is an immediate obsession, bordering on worship.

There’s nothing sweeter than falling in love on such a romantic holiday, right? How could love be wrong? It seems like this is a game where everyone wins.

OFF DUTY While half of the new arrivals file off to work on their shifts, everyone else is left to their own devices during their free time. Why not venture out and explore one of the locations in this new home of yours? Hang out in the back rooms and mingle with your new coworkers, or perhaps you’d rather head out and try out some games yourself? There seems to be plenty of reason to try out playing. Maybe you'll win big and get rid of all that new Debt of yours! Maybe you'll find a friend who's working a shift - why are they even going along with this crazy place, anyway?

Whatever they decide to do with their free time is up to them. Everything goes, as long as you show up for work on time when it’s your turn.

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ARRIVAL

[The absolute gall of it all. To think, some absolute hooligan would have enough disrespect for proper law and order to kidnap a woman of such high regard as a Von Karma. When this gets worked out, she'll take great joy in crafting an airtight case against the villain and then handing it off to her brother's desk so that she can become the prosecution's star witness and personally see the culprit put away in prison for the rest of their foolish life.

The problem is that none of the people here are the villains needing to be brought to justice. They're either idiots or victims. The investigation needs to go a little deeper. So instead of raising a fuss by herself, she'll approach the nearest person who looks like they've got substantial upper body strength and address them with the tone of someone who expects everyone else to do what she tells them without asking questions.]

You there. Make yourself useful and break down that door for me. [she gestures at the locked door that doesn't seem to open for any of the victims. It's got to be where they're hiding the secrets.]

WORKING THE EVENT FLOOR

[As shameful as it is to be enlisted to do this menial labor for anonymous overlords, Franziska does see how some of the employees can find such a life palatable. In this tiny microcosm of a gambling game, lost souls hopelessly give away every penny they've ever made, leaving them to fall into a scruffy pit of decrepit despair. They need leadership. Here, at the helm of this miserable table, she is their queen. She tends to bark commands at the people playing blackjack under her watchful eye, and regularly reaches for a whip hidden somewhere within the folds of her uniform, cracking it in the air to add punctuation to her voice.]

You've only got twelve showing! You want to stand there?? Are you trying to lose? Ask me for another card or you'll see how hard I can truly hit you!

FEATURED GAME

[The fuss around this game is attention-grabbing, at least. After the end of her shift, Franziska settles at one of the Cupid's Crush tables, mostly to find out what all the yelling has been about. It seems unnecessarily complex for what sounds like an invitation to be humiliated. But then again, who was she to pass up a chance to watch someone else spill all their secrets and then be forced to do something embarrassing?

She slides a "secrets" card into the center of the table, smugly making eye contact with the person across from her like a lioness who's just identified the day's prey. This person. This is the one who'll lose this game. She intends to make sure of it.]

I. ON DUTY: CLUBS ♧
cw: violence/implied violence

( Maybe you're tonight's high roller or maybe you're a performer with some, um, enthusiastic fans. Maybe you're just a cocktail waitress or a bartender whose drunk patrons refuse to believe that your shift is ending and so they keep getting handsy. Maybe you're something or somebody else entirely. Who knows!

Whatever the reason, you need a security escort to walk you to where you're going and Lalo Salamanca, for whatever reason, has been assigned to provide. It was fifteen minutes ago that the call was placed, and he showed up quickly after, maybe only a minute or two later, wearing the sharp security suit and a jaunty smile.

So if it was that long ago, why the hold up?

It appears Mr. Salamanca and one of your, uhm, friends have had a disagreement that escalated to something physical. Very physical. Now, with the very drunk man groaning on the floor and Lalo covered in blood that's mostly not his own, your security escort turns to you, still smiling that bright smile. He gives the man's head a good, hard stomp to silence the groaning. )

Now that that's taken care of! ( He'll offer you his arm if you'd like, but he won't force you to take it. ) Would you mind telling me where we're off to?

II. ON DUTY: SPADES ♠️
( It's the next day and Lalo's behind the bar now! Maybe he got in trouble after what he did yesterday or maybe it's just a random departmental transfer, who knows.

He seems happy though! When he isn't winking at 45-year-old suntanned MILFs for extra tips, he's leaning halfway over the bar, muscled arms crossed, looking at you pretty intently. )

Sooo. What is eating you? Hmm?

( He stands all the way back up. And just smiles. The intentness of his gaze is still there, though, a flicker of something in his eyes. )

Tell you what! This one's on the house. What'll it be?

III. OFF-DUTY
( You know those ladders that let people climb up into the top pods? And how nobody is supposed to mess with them?

Well, somebody is messing with them. Lalo is moving the ladder to one of the pods, your pod, to the side, apparently to prevent you from using it. For what purpose?

Looks like you're going to find out pretty soon! )

Helloooooo! Wake up in there! Come on out! I need your help with something.

( It shouldn't be possible to hear the ":)" in someone's voice, but somehow it is! If you seem sleepy, he'll reach into the pod to further rouse you. If you seem alert, he'll just watch you expectantly for an answer.

If you're a spade or a club, he might be in the pod below yours. If you're a heart or a diamond, well, then he probably shouldn't be in here, but here he is anyway. Time to find out what he wants. )

IV. WILDCARD
[ If none of those suit your fancy, Lalo can also be found at any of the poker tables, as either the dealer or one of the players; working security outside of restricted areas; just wandering around, seemingly looking for something in particular; or, if you're really unlucky, you might find him in one of the employee backrooms, listening intently to something on the audio devices and looking considerably more irritated and less happy than usual-- never a good sign. ]

[OOC; I couldn't decide if I liked spades or clubs better for him, so I decided to do a prompt for each to see which I liked best! He'll only be one or the other if I app him into the actual game, but we can still keep all TDM threads as game canon if you want to! We'll figure something out.]

Edited 2023-02-11 18:33 (UTC)

A. On the floor: cards (spade)

[Though he knows the basics, gambling at this level, at this end of the table, is new to Saul. But fast talking and roping people into decisions they'd later regret making? That's just second nature, and it always has been. Getting people to talk, to relax and let their guard down is a skill he's honed into a sharpened weapon over his years, and it's with that same practiced ease that Saul is able to keep the players at his table engaged, with their attention on him.

Questions, commentary, flattery, even bad jokes. Acting friendly and disarming enough to get what he wants is easy enough. And what he wants is the gamblers' attention on him, and not on the cards that are being dealt. The players might not be able to cheat, but him? Well, the house is supposed to always win, isn't it? A fast eye might be able to catch a card sliding down his sleeve, but in the low lighting of the casino and with how much gesturing Saul does with his hands, who can really be sure what they've seen?]

What do you say, one more go? You've been here so long, you can't drop out now! I'm not supposed to say this, but trust me: I can feel this next hand is going to change your life.

B. On the floor: drinks

[Bar tending is something Saul actually does know a thing or two about. Ages ago, a different man, in a different time, with a different life attended bar tending school just out of needing something to do with his life. Of course, most of what he learned during that time was how to carry out better bar scams rather than how to make extremely complicated drinks, but he knows the basics. And with instructions on how to make the drink specials, it's not too difficult.

Drumming his fingers on the bartop, he raises his eyebrows, fixing his attention on whoever happens to be in front of him and without a drink.]

So! What'll it be? Me personally, I like the looks of the Hatsukoi Fizz.

[But also, because he can't resist the urge, later on in the evening, to any patron that seems to have had a bit too much to drink, Saul gives them a sidelong glance, sizing them up curiously. He makes sure to make the gesture obvious enough for the person to notice and wonder what, exactly he wants to say while he gives the customer a minute or two to ponder the gesture.

After time has passed, he slides over innocuously, glancing around at their surroundings before fixing that side-eye back on whoever's before him.]

Hey--can I trust you to keep a secret?

C. Off-duty

[Saul has never been the kind of person to keep his head down and leave things well alone, no matter how many times he's wanted to or tried to do just that. The curiosity nagging at him nearly always outweighs his desire to avoid deeper trouble. The Elysium, of course, is no different, even if he wants to tell himself that it's only natural. Anyone would want to get a better grasp of the land and see what's going on here. There are too many questions not to do a bit of snooping, after all.

His little investigation, however, ends up being put on pause as he takes the time to sift through only the gaudiest costumes hanging up in the dressing area. Sure, there's a dress code, sure he's forced to fit in with a normal, black suit, dressing professional in a more normal way, but that sort of thing has never really been his style.]

What do you think: paisley or stripes?

[he's holding up two extremely loud ties, and it's very likely he'll just take the both of them. He's absolutely planning to push the limits on what's allowed with that work uniform.]

D. Wildcard

[Anything else you want to do? Hit me up, I'm open to it. I'm at

compoundeyes]

[ There's a dark laugh from somewhere to Saul's side, towards the end of the bar. Lalo waits for Saul to turn his attention from the person he's talking to and looking at him, instead.

When Saul finally does glance over, Lalo smiles at him. It's an expression most people might recognize as friendly, but Saul knows better, even if he hasn't seen that expression or the face it belongs to in quite some time. ]

Secrets? Who are you keeping secrets from, Saul? You're not keeping secrets from me, are you?

[ Lalo laughs, and looks fake-hurt before he turns to the drunk person Saul was just talking to. He gives them a semi-apologetic glance and a brief wave of his hand. ]

Aah, I'm sorry to interrupt. He's an old friend. You won't mind too much if we catch up, will you?

[ The person is too hammered to do much more than nod and then promptly lower their head onto their hands. And Lalo isn't on shift right now, apparently, so he slides onto the bar stool, eyeing Saul intently. ]

I'll take a martini. Please. [ Have a small but polite smile! ] If it's not too much trouble, of course.

Edited 2023-02-11 22:30 (UTC)

I. ON DUTY IN THE HALLWAYS
[ There's what the people in charge of this place consider to be Jorji's job (cleaning rooms), and then there's what Jorji considers to be his actual job (selling knives and other assorted contraband on the Elysium's thriving black market).

Maybe you're a security guard making a patrol, maybe you're maintenance, maybe you're a fellow housekeeper, but somehow you pass Jorji in the hall with his cart of fresh towels and cleaning supplies.

He looks excited when he sees you, and waves, beckoning you over. He whispers at you, but it's a loud whisper: ]

Hey! Hey, you! Come over here! I got something for you!

[ He reaches into the bottom of his housekeeping cart and whips out a shiny silver knife. Jorji sounds proud of himself as he declares: ]

IS KNIFE!

[ Yeah, subtlety is not this man's middle name. What do you do? Take the knife? Tattle on him to your supervisor? Walk away very fast and pretend you didn't see anything? ]

II. OFF-DUTY: THE BAR
[ POV: You are a bartender, but uh-oh! What's this? Jorji has somehow lost his debt card! He smiles winningly (he hopes) up at you (he's short!) and points at you. ]

Ah, you give this one for free, yes? Elysium so great, I no need card!

[ What do you do? ]

III. OFF-DUTY: THE BAR (AGAIN)
[ POV: You are a bartender. Maybe you sent Jorji away the first time. Maybe you served him. Maybe your co-worker dealt with him before and this your first time seeing this guy.

He seems very determined as he walks up to you, and says: ]

Okay, okay! You drive hard bargain about card. But is okay. I understand. I have card now. See?

[ He doesn't have a card. He has a piece of paper with "HIGH ROLLER" written messily in crayon on it. ]

IV. OFF-DUTY: THE BAR (THE SAGA CONTINUES)
[ POV: You are a bartender. Jorji returns to the bar once more. He still doesn't have his card. He does have a lot, a lot of other peoples' cards though, which he proudly dumps out and splays on the bar in front of you. ]

Okay! You wanted card? I get card for you! There you go! Is card!

[Unfortunately for Franziska, any illusion of upper body strength is only due to his suit jacket hiding his actual frame. He's not exactly the working out type. But for now, for just a moment, he humors her, looking first toward Franziska and then over to the door. As much as he likes bossy women with their shit together, actually being bossed around is a trickier issue. He'd be lying if he said he didn't also want out of here, though, so... he reaches out to jiggle the handle. Nope, still locked tight.

He turns back toward Franziska and pulls a face, with a bit of a frown.]

Got anything we can pick a lock with?

[Not that a passing glance at the door seemed to hint at any pick-able lock.]

[This is clearly a man who knows that it's in his own best interests to do what he's told. That's good. He seems like the sort that could be useful in the future. Some of that confidence dies immediately when he makes an attempt at the handle, but that's still ultimately fine. She's handled far more idiotic partners. There's a use for all of them, as long as their hearts are in the right place.]

If it was that manner of lock, I wouldn't need help to get it open. A Von Karma isn't deterred by something so trivial as a common tumbler lock. I've been locking my little brother into small spaces since I was a child.

[She wasn't cruel about it, of course! It was purely a manner of control. He needed to learn his place in their sibling hierarchy.]

[Oh, he has secrets from Lalo. Secrets for days that he doesn't want coming out.

It's not as if he didn't see Lalo sitting there. He saw him. But he sees Lalo in a lot of places where he isn't, and his hope was that this was yet another of those instances. His mind panicking and inventing danger where it isn't. He may have been assured Lalo was gone, that Lalo wasn't a problem anymore, that they were safe, but he'd been told that before and it had been wrong. In the back of his mind, that danger was always there.

Apparently this time, that danger wasn't just imagined. He forces his expression to brighten, an almost apologetic smile on his face as an effort to lighten the mood Lalo's very presence ruined.]

Hey, there's no secrets between us, right? Confidentiality and all.

[Whether that applies here or not, that's another story, and not one he wants to argue with Lalo about at the moment. In fact, the last thing he wants to do is spend any time near Lalo! He would rather bolt and take his chances with any consequences or get lost or anything else! But he's frozen to the spot and so instead--]

How do you take it?

I. ARRIVAL_

[at first, Damien isn't really sure what to do with any of this -- blame the drugs, if you like, or the fact that he's seen the Void spit out some pretty weird shit, the last few months. either way, he's taking this whole thing with a grain of slightly hazy salt for the time being, a frown on his lips as he tries to figure out what the point of all this is. his sour expression only deepens when he starts to realize that he doesn't see anyone he recognizes here. considering there weren't a whole lot of them 'back home' to begin with, maybe it's finally time he start paying attention]

[he shifts in his seat, that in mind, metal of the brace wrapped around his left leg creaking softly as he forces himself to perk up. he takes one more now-sharp look around the room, then to the person closest to him, asks:] What is this?

[never mind the fact that he's aware now that, former prisoner of the Void, too, or not, they don't look any more put together than he is]

II. WORKING THE FLOOR (SPADE)_

[the whole casino backdrop really isn't too far off from his preferred stomping grounds. (though, if he were here to 'work' on his own, it would be to rob the place blind.) he knows how to count cards well enough to tell when someone else is doing it. he knows enough sleight of hand to make your average, ordinary shuffle entertainment. and he can be very, very charming, albeit in a wolfish sort of way, when things are going his way or when he feels the need to bait his traps with honey rather than vinegar, and this? this is very much a case of the latter. there's a lot to be said for what you can learn from people who drunk on endorphins or liquor, and there's both in abundance here on the floor]

[that in mind as a newcomer to his table sits down, Damien grins easily but crookedly]

Deal you in?

III. OFF DUTY (CUPID'S CRUSH)_

[maybe it's a bad idea, getting involved on this end of all the gambling here, considering he apparently already has some kind of horrendous debt he has no clue how he accrued, but he's not actually here to gamble. not really. no, he's more interested in seeing what he can learn on this side of the table, for all that he feels he didn't in being made to work. it's a little hard to try and figure out where the security room is or what you can conceivable disassemble to try hacking into it later, when you're trying to make sure the clientele go home ready to fuck like bunnies or -- whatever]

[but at any rate, here he is, and when it's his turn, he flips over the first of his cards and immediately scoffs]

God, what is this -- [high school?] 'What part of your body are you least proud of, in bed?' [seriously?]

[dropping the card back to the table, he starts to push to his feet -- an action made difficult by the fact that the leg brace he wears obviously isn't for show. he gestures towards it widely, if it's not obvious enough on its own] You know many people who get all hot and bothered by the idea of fucking a cripple?

[and then he's flopping back down]

Your turn.

[Damien is vain about a lot of things, but his ruined legs most of all. not to mention the fact that it's been a long day, and for the first time in a long time thanks to the place he was before this, he's actually feeling tired]

( lalo practically bounces up to the table. at first he just seems curious, hovering around the other players and just... watching. but then the man dealing the cards catching his gaze. their eyes like. lalo perks up even more when the man dealing the cards shoots a crooked smile at him. and he grins back! he likes the cut of his guy's jib, lalo decides instantly. he hasn't been watching for long but he's seen the way the guy cuts a deck and shuffles cards. it's impressive showmanship.

he slips easily into one of the empty chairs around the blackjack table. )

Sure, man! Why not?

( why not? indeed. there might be many reasons why not, but lalo can think of just as many for why to do it. one game never hurt anybody, right? so he waits, happily but expectantly, for the cards to be dealt. his cheerful friendliness isn't completely fake, but there's a cool intensity in his eyes that just doesn't match the warmth of his smile. it makes him seem eerie, almost discordant. )

( it's so mean to keep secrets from people, saul. how truly unkind and exclusionary of you! really.

lalo would find it deeply gratifying to know that saul is so affected by him that he still sees him, after so many years. that even with the liquor flowing freely and the chemicals in the ventilation designed to put everyone in a good mood, his very presence can still bring saul's mood down like a rock.

as it is, he can tell saul is nervous around him, but he expects that. saul should be nervous around him, if he's smart, and if saul is anything he's smart. which is good, because he mostly isn't much of anything otherwise.

to saul, though, all lalo offers is a shrug and a needlessly intense ):

Surprise me!

( gin, vodka, shaken, stirred, it's all the same to him. )

[it's not the first time he's seen that disparity on someone's face -- it reminds him of his most recent protégé, Goro Akechi. he wonders briefly if he made it here from the Void, too. he also wonders how much he must hate this place, all things considered, if he did]

[but anyway]

[shelving the though for the time being, he makes a casual show of dealing him in. seven of hearts, three of spades. could be worse?]

Been here long?

I. ARRIVAL
[ Cheyenne blinks, and blinks again. She stares at the black screen of the dead monitor. Then she stands up, using her arms to force herself off of the plush sofa. Her legs feel shaky and numb, like she's been sitting for longer than she thought, but maybe it's just the shock.

This is so weird. She's been looking for other jobs, sure. There are always rumors the store might close, and even though she takes him with a grain of salt, it's not so wrong to want to be prepared, is it? But she doesn't remember applying for this job. Are casinos like this even legal in St. Louis? She can't remember ever seeing one!

There are more pressing issues, though. She reaches out to touch the person nearest to her on the shoulder. She doesn't know why she expects them to have answers, but maybe-- ]

H-Hey! Do you know what's going on here???

[ Her voice isn't quite panic-striken, but it's definitely high-pitched, anxious and slightly whiny. ]

II. ON DUTY | GIFT SHOP (❤️ HEARTS)
[ Cheyenne eventually finds herself working the cash register at the gift shop. The whole place is decked out in pinks and reds, complete with paper hearts on strings hanging from the ceilings. But other than that, it's fairly normal. At least she's safe from the some of the more intense happenings on the casino floor, not that she knows that yet.

So far, so boring. With everything going on at the event spaces and all the cool performers here, it's no surprise that not very many people are browsing the gift shop. To make everything worse, the slowness seems to have been expected, which means she's scheduled by herself. And she can't even text anyone on this stupid earpiece thingy they give her, which is messed up!

So she busies herself with folding the same table of shirts over and over again until the ding of the door open alerts her to the door open, her eyes light up and she practically zooms over. ]

Hey!!! Oh my God, welcome to the gift shop!! You wanna buy something? There's a lot of cool stuff, like... this thingy!

[ She grabs for a completely random object without looking at it first and just shoves it at you. ]

III. OFF DUTY | BAR
[ Most of this might be a horrifying nightmare that Cheyenne still isn't sure is real or not -- she has some weird "debt" she didn't know about and doesn't understand! She's been separated from her husband and baby and they don't know it! Worst of all, she can't text or use Instagram or watch TikTok here!

But there is one, and only one, bright spot!

Cheyenne is twenty. That means back home, she can't drink legally. Oh, she still drinks! But, you know, not legally.

But here at the Elysium, apparently they are fine with serving alcohol to 20-year-olds. Like, just completely okay with it? Cheyenne can't quite believe it, so forgive her if she's giggling nervously when she approaches the Starlight Bar. ]

Ummmm, heyyy. ♥ [ Giggle, giggle. She notices one of the other bar patrons staring at her, or maybe just imagines she does, and moves away from them anxiously. ]

C-Can I have... um... [ Ooh, they have specialty drinks here? Awesome! ] Oooh! That one!

[ She points a picture of the Hatsukoi Fizz, and then, with a deep breath and another nervous giggle, slooowwwly hands over her debt card with a shaking hand... ]

Edited 2023-02-13 04:40 (UTC)

[ Jane is already wasted and already thinking about how to get heroin here. It's a casino, right? She's been to Vegas, okay, and there's always some scummy club promoter or something somewhere who's holding. For right now, though, she's happy to nurse her gin and tonic, and just tracing the edge of it with her finger, until she sees some guy staring at her.

The first time Saul looks over at her, Jane sucks in a breath and glares at him.

He turns away for a bit, but then he's back. Asking if she can... keep a secret?? Jane rolls her eyes.

God. Dirty old men are so gross. ]

Is the "secret" that I'm so beautiful you can't take your eyes off of me? Or, no, let me guess! Is it that I won a free cruise, you know, here in the magical hell casino with no lake or ocean?

Either way, save it. You're gross.

[ With that, she hiccups, then just goes back to sucking on the straw of her gin and tonic, like she expects him to just move on. ]

( lalo loves this place. it's loud and colorful and obnoxious, just like him! what a perfect fit. he watches the cards that are out at the other players' hands intently, then grinning and punching the person next to him lightly on the shoulder with a, "nice job, ese!" when they get a blackjack.

to the dealer's question, he shakes his head. )

Nah! Just got here. Yourself?

( you're supposed to make chitchat with the dealers, right? that's how this works? so it's not weird for this stranger to ask him questions, or for lalo to do the same.

he makes a big show of pretending to add up the cards, ) Seven plus three, that's... what? Ten?

( he throws the same number of chips down as he put down the first time, when he was dealt in. )

Double it.

Edited 2023-02-13 00:20 (UTC)

[ Jesse's just getting off a shift with Maintenance, unzipping his coveralls and stepping out of his work boots. He shoves it all unceremoniously into a nearby locker. None of it's dirty enough to warrant cleaning. Besides, they have plenty of access to clean uniforms as needed. He wonders if they use the same kind of industrial laundry service like the one he used to work at. It feels like ages ago now, but the thought persists.

Jesse pulls on a pair of dark jeans and steps into some comfortable sneakers. He layers a long-sleeved Henley on top of his white undershirt, pushing the sleeves up. Normally, Jesse's hyper-vigilant about observing his surroundings, but there's something about this place that's making him feel safe. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't seen a single soul he recognizes, and nobody seems to have recognized him yet, either. Even the patrons barely gave him a glance as he moved about the casino, fixing machines and pipes and whatever's needed fixing. He's never held this type of job before, but ever since learning how to work with chemicals, and learning how to assemble and disassemble a meth lab, he's become familiar with tools and there isn't much these days that can't be learned by watching a video or reading a manual. He's coming into his own, and for once, it feels nice.

That is, until the illusion bursts like a bubble as he hears an all-too-familiar voice cut through the thoughts in his head like a hot knife through butter. Jesse's head whips to the side just in time to see none other than Saul Goodman holding up a pair of ties. Jesse's mouth goes dry and he stumbles back a couple of paces. He stops himself, though, trying to toughen up. Straighten up. Toe the line. There are consequences if you can't hold it together.

Jesse clears his throat and takes a step forward. Eye-contact doesn't come easily. It doesn't happen at all, at first. But he finally meets his ex-attorney's eyes. The gaze won't last, but it's long enough for recognition to set in. Even if Jesse looks a little older, a little more worn. Badly healed scars are noticeable even in the low light, or maybe particularly so, when a dim overhead bulb casts shadows beneath the raised lines on his skin. But it's still him. It's still Jesse. Undeniably so. ]

What...they're all outta plaid?

[ There's the slightest twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth before it falls away. ]

Edited (sorry for the multiple edits i'm done now lol) 2023-02-13 03:42 (UTC)

[He'd be lying if he said he hadn't got that response from potential marks in his time. He's a bit rusty, he figures, given that he hasn't had much reason or opportunity to go out there and talk with some hapless schmuck as Viktor with a K in years. It wasn't as fun on his own anymore, and he has too recognizable a face for it to work. Apparently Jane wasn't as far gone as he assumed, or she holds her alcohol better than other women her age.

But fine, he can try a different tactic. Saul scoffs at Jane's rebuff, turning his attention toward tidying up the bartop. He's not done talking to her, of course, but playing it cool and unaffected, as if she's not worth giving his full attention to is his new course of action.]

Easy, Morticia. You know what they say when you assume, right? Difficult as it may be for you to believe, the tall, goth, and sarcastic type doesn't do it for me.

[Her face does seem familiar, in some way, but he can't quite place where he's seen it at the moment.]

[ Same, bro! She can't quite figure out from where, but she feels like she's both seen and heard him before. That's crazy, though, right?

...Right?

When he calls her "Morticia" she flips him off (sorry, Saul, she's an asshole), but then curiosity gets the better of her. She sucks on her straw before she asks: ]

Okay. So what's your secret?

[Unfortunately for Franziska, Saul is the type who only does as he's told when it actually suits him. In any other circumstance, she'll be in for a rude awakening, but for now, even with his normal inclination to be difficult, even Saul is aware that having two people working on this problem is better than trying to do it himself.

Franziska's reply, though, has him a bit distracted from their current situation. Von Karma must be her name, that's worth taking note of. The rest of that, though? Saul blinks in surprise, caught off-guard by her anecdote.]

Christ, talk about sibling rivalry. I bet your parents were real happy about that.

I. Arrival

[ The timing of Jesse's arrival is almost laughable. He'd just spent a good chunk of his blood money on obtaining a new identity, a way out, and a fresh start when he's teleported into a situation that gives him just that. He blinks his icy blue eyes a few times, shaking his head as the world comes into focus just enough for him to vaguely hear someone welcoming him to the team. Things are moving too fast for him to question the uniform and ID that are shoved into his hands. He barely has time to look them over when he's ushered into another area and told to sit.

The video on the wall panel is slightly unsettling--something isn't quite right with that old-timey guy welcoming everyone with a little too gleeful of a smile. Jesse briefly wonders if this is all a hallucination--if some head injury finally got to him and he's really miles away, seizing up as his neurons misfire nerve impulses. It feels too real not to be, though. Doesn't it? He glances from side to side, but everyone else seems drawn to the video, so he returns his attention to it, barely. He never had much of an attention span for listening to speeches. Show him what to do and he'll do it. Tell him and, well, you'd better just hope that he was listening.

Jesse's shift starts soon and, apparently he's been deemed a Jack of All Trades. He'll largely stick to Maintenance, but should a shift need covering in another area like Security, Bartending, or Food Service, he'll be on-call. Management has, apparently, decided that it's best for him to keep busy more often than not. You know what they say about idle hands.

Jesse unfurls his initial uniform with a flourish. He shuts his eyes tightly, ears ringing as visions of a pair of coveralls emblazoned with VAMANOS PEST flash behind his eyelids. He tries to steady his breath, feeling his way to the nearby wall as he feels sweat beading on his forehead. He wipes it away, blue eyes wide as he glances around. The feeling passes slowly, though his heart is still hammering away in the cage of his chest as he eyes the coveralls he's been given to wear for this shift. As someone approaches, he pushes off the wall and throws on a smile so as not to cause any suspicion. ]

Where are you working? Looks like I'm your, um, resident fixer-upper this shift. Maintenance.

[ He shrugs a little awkwardly. Listen, it's been a while since he's had any sort of social interaction. Go easy on him. It'll come back to him. ]

II. Maintenance

[ So Jesse's been assigned maintenance. Might as well be the Invisible Man with how patrons seem to look right through him. Even the color of his coveralls seem to blend right in with the decor of the casino, and why wouldn't it? The House wants to keep instances of broken machines, amenities, and the like quiet, and why wouldn't they? Every casino-like environment is all about keeping up appearances, isn't it?

Jesse doesn't quite fit the mold, but he's trying to learn; so, excuse him if he bumps into the back of your chair or uses noisy machinery a little too close to the craps table. He's a bit of a work in progress, as it were. But he'll get there.

He gets word over his radio that one of the older slot machines broke down, so he heads that way, eventually finding the row of machines that the misbehaving one is in. It's an older machine with a manual crank and rotating wheels; none of that computerized stuff, so Jesse pops the machine open maybe a little too close for comfort. ]

My bad. You might wanna scoot back a little.

[ The warning comes after the fact, but better late than never, right? He leans over the machine, digging through his toolbelt and bag until he finds some suitable instruments. ]

These older ones...they can still be rigged y'know...break down more often, too. I dunno why they're around. Nostalgia, or somethin'. Must be.

[ It's not clear if he's offering or just testing the waters. Who knows...maybe Jesse can get a little gig on the side. ]

III. Order up!

[ Jesse's not necessarily a good chef. He probably couldn't come up with gourmet recipes or anything like that, but he can follow directions as a line cook. He knows how to sear a steak or grill a burger. He can toss together sandwiches and throw things in a frier. He's your average sous chef or line cook, and right now it's lunch rush.

Jesse flips a spatula between his fingers like he used to twirl his drumsticks, light blue eyes flitting rapidly between a pan full of sauce for a pasta dish, meat on the griddle, and bread being toasted in the salamander. He's got track of everything and, honestly, this kind of multitasking is what his brain had always been meant for. Unfortunately, he's spent many of his young adult years being the wrong kind of cook.

Now's his chance to do better. ]

Order up!

[ Jesse assembles two plates of burgers and fries quickly and then taps the bell sitting on the counter. ]

Service, please!

[ Perhaps you work with him in the kitchen, communicate with him as a waitress, or maybe you're on off hours and make eye contact with him through the open kitchen. Either way, it's obvious he takes note of you and approaches or otherwise waits for you to say something first. If you don't, he'll speak up after a pause. ]

What's up?

IV. Bartender

[ The Elysium seems extra crowded with Valentine's Day approaching, so it's no wonder that one of the bars calls for additional assistance in the form of an extra bartender. That's what Jacks of All Trades are meant for, after all. Filling in the gaps. Jesse knows how to mix some basic drinks, but he's one of the ones who'll have to refer to the binders beneath the counter for any beverages that he hasn't heard of, including whatever daily specials are being made. It doesn't make him feel less-than; having to leaf through a booklet for the odd request or two, and he'll do it with a smile because that's what gets the most tips.

Jesse spots someone glancing around as if they're not being helped, so he wanders over, patting the bar top once with both hands. ]

Can I get you anything?

V. Off-duty

[ Jesse spends a lot of time out of his room when he isn't working. Mostly, he passes his time exploring the expanses of the casino facility rather than holing up. He wants to get to know the place like the back of his hand, exits and all (even if none of the staff is allowed to use them from what he can gather so far). He paces the hallways in the staff-only areas at first, but once boredom sets in, he can be found playing various games, sitting at the bar or in one of the restaurants, or having a cigarette break and taking it all in. ]

[ooc: this prompt is very open-ended because I don't want to limit the situations in which your character may run into Jesse. Feel free to tailor it to your needs/to where your char. is likely to be found, etc. I'm all for the "yes, and" thing, so I'll run with whatever you give me. ]

VI. Wildcard
[ Feel free to tweak any of the prompts above to something that'll fit with your character. You can also provide a starter of your choosing. Anyone's welcome to respond. I'd like to get cross-canon CR for Jesse as well as castmate things. No need for canon familiarity, either. I'll clue you in on necessary things as needed. Don't be shy! I don't bite :) ]

Edited 2023-02-13 12:59 (UTC)

[They always do come back around. They can't resist indulging their curiosity for too long.

Saul spares a glance back at Jane, just briefly, before returning his attention back to tidying up. It's very important to wipe off and make sure the expensive bottles of alcohol are clean and catch the light properly. They have to entice the most trashed of guests somehow, after all. The trick is always to make it seem like whatever he's doing is much more important than jumping back into conversation with the mark.]

No, no. You told me to save it, remember? Said I was gross? Your words.

[He turns toward another customer who flagged him down, reaching to grab a few of the things needed to make their order.]

...I shouldn't really be telling you, anyway.

[Now there's a familiar voice. A bit rougher than he remembers, but Jesse Pinkman isn't someone Saul is about to forget. He freezes, lowering his hands slowly as he turns to look properly at Jesse. He's not sure what to expect, honestly. A familiar face in a place like this is bound to be a rarity, and someone that Saul would say he generally likes is likely even rarer than that. In any other case, it would almost be a comfort. But the last time he'd seen Jesse had ended with his nose broken, his car stolen, and Jesse off on a rampage who knows where in Albuquerque. There's a wariness in his gaze as he looks Jesse over, not sure if he's about to get a repeat performance here.

But something's not right. Jesse's demeanor is off compared to what he's come to expect over the time they've worked together. He seems more skittish and just about as on edge as he is. And then there's the scars. The wariness in Saul's expression softens slightly--it's hard not to as his imagination runs wild trying to guess what could've happened to his former client--but he doesn't move from where he's standing. Just in case Jesse does change his mind and decide to throw a punch or two.]

Christ. Give a guy a heart attack, why don't you?

[Sorry, Jesse, he can't bring himself to stop looking at those scars. He knows it's rude, but he's never been the best at etiquette.]

...What did he do to you?

[There's a lot he could surprise Lalo with, but sure. He'll stick to the drink. Saul forces himself to move, going through the motions to grab everything he needs to make a martini. Gin, vermouth, ice, olives, he knows what's in a martini but he can only hope he can keep his hands steady enough to make the drink with Lalo Salamanca of all people somehow here, somehow sitting in front of him, somehow, somehow, somehow...]

I don't know if I would've taken you for a martini guy. You learn something new every day, huh?

[Is he talking to keep up appearances, that he's not totally petrified to see Lalo again, or to keep himself calm? Both, probably. A bad nervous habit of his that he knows Lalo is all too aware of. Lalo probably knows he's nervous, and he knows this, but wouldn't it be more suspicious if he weren't talking? He's overthinking it all, his mind racing with too many questions and too much panic.

Focus, focus. Mixing glass, ice, he knows how to do this.]

[ Uh-oh! If Franziska is like a lioness, Cheyenne's more like a gazelle. A really, really dumb gazelle with two broken legs.

When the other woman smiles at her, Cheyenne smiles back with seemingly no awareness of how predatory the gaze that's been fixed on her really is. She even gives Franziska a little wave.

She slides two cards into the center, one labelled "secrets" and one labelled "deeds". ]

Whoops.

[ The tone says 'sorry, not sorry'. It might seem like he's still salty over the whole ricin cigarette thing, but at this point it's just a drop in the bucket compared to everything that happened to him since then. Saul's practically a Saint compared to the depths of evil that lurk inside of his former high school chemistry teacher, and it all feels too long ago to hold a grudge. ]

What, you never watch the news?

[ There's a short pause before he continues. He'll spare Saul the gritty details of hearing his own nose break under the weight of a set of brass knuckles for now. He wants it made clear that, while this was all Mr. White's fault, he'd actually been too much of a coward to do it himself. ]

Remember that blonde little neo nazi piece of shit from Vamanos Pest? Your maestro sold me to him and his psycho fuck uncle Jack.

[ Because that's the way it feels like it went down. Walter White got to walk away with a barrel full of his precious money and Jesse got thrown into a concrete hole in the ground. ]

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TEST DRIVE MEME

Franziska Von Karma | Ace Attorney | OTA

Lalo Salamanca | Better Call Saul | OTA

Saul Goodman | Breaking Bad | OTA

B!

Jorji Costava | Papers Please | OTA

Arrival

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Damien Brenks | WATCH_DOGS (+CRAU) | OTA

II.

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Cheyenne Thompson (née Lee) | Superstore | OTA

B. (cw: drug mention)

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C. Off-duty

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jesse pinkman | breaking bad/el camino | ota

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Featured Game!

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