Futuristic gestalt ✦ rp

[AI10100]

ELISE MOORE

INFORMATION

LOCATION

Gas Station, Alabama (?)

INTERACTIONS

Cassidy ( Wyll ) | Cheryl ( Ambiloquous ) | The Universe ( Klown )

MENTIONS

“i think i'm high or dead. probably both.”

Artist

misa

POST

"Guess it could still a good conversation starter if you talk to like a climate change guy. Bet they have a lot to say about it," El said with a nod. The man was a little bit more on the awkward sign but that just meant he wasn't that much of a threat.

She didn't have to follow his gaze to know exactly where he was looking at. Instead, she turned her gaze to the coolers nearby where the drinks were. Maybe after the hot chocolate, she could grab a few drinks there to stock up for the long trip. She blinked a few times and only noticed how there were a couple of lemons scattered across it. "Yeah, you're right. Better to just stay put and watch her food. Might get labeled as a creep if you follow." She tried her best to respond but was a little distracted as the lemons seemed to shift side to side, as if it was moving. God, maybe she was actually losing it from the lack of sleep?

"Well, what you say is-"

Abruptly cut off by the loud scream that rang across the store, El didn't hesitate to search for Cher and dropped her conversation with the man. It didn't take long for her to find her brightly colored friend and quickly looked over her. "Why? What's wrong? Did something..."

The clerk that she hadn't paid much attention to began speaking and El, who normally did ignore announcements, perked up. And well, that was partly because even at her position so far into the convenience store, she could just see his head. She shifted to get a clearer view of him and, yeah, he was towering over the counter. As if that wasn't enough, his arm extended so, so, so far into the convenience store like it was some sort of elastic.

Stepping in between the clerk and Cher was second nature but even she didn't know what she could do in this scenario. Was she high? She couldn't even remember the last time she had touched drugs. Was she drugged? No, no that can't be it. Her gaze followed his extending arms towards the coolers with the wriggling lemons from earlier.

The door opened.

Out came the lemons.

"Lemons" didn't feel like the right word for them anymore as they seemed to form some gelatinous figure. Slimes. Whatever the fuck they are. El instinctively took a step back as the lemon slimes began slipping through the floor, scrambling as if they had anywhere to be. El looked over to the entrance where they seemed to be searching for something and why didn't they just open the damn thing and—

"Am I hallucinating?" El asked, loud enough for Cher to hear. "Or we somehow slipped and had a car accident and we're both dead and we're in purgatory." She tried to say them in jest but, honestly, she couldn't be sure anymore. Not when there was some eight foot clerk with a forty feet wingspan and lemon slimes jumping around.

Speaking of said lemon slime jumping around, El spotted one staring right up at her— it reminded her of orange cats who didn't look like they had a single thought running through their head. Then again, it was a lemon. She doubted the damn thing had a brain to think with. El stared down right back at it with a bit of wonder if it was harmful. The clerk wanted to them to collect these lemon slimes "carefully" and El didn't know if she should trust the monster that wore human skin. Did they have a choice in the matter? What was the patron? What would happen if they couldn't collect them? As if sensing distress and distraction, the slime launched itself right at her and El yelped as both of her hands came up to catch it like she was playing baseball with a child. Her hands clamped around them and it didn't get squashed in between her hands.

"Ew, this is gross," she muttered. The slime kept its shape, somehow, even when she was holding it aloft. "I want to get rid of this. Where do we-" She stopped and looked around to the clerk. "Hey, where do we put this?!"

 

[Gigglecake]

Perhaps it was simply a natural weirdness censor she possessed or maybe it was the power of middle-aged hormones and a guy with a chiseled chest and a tight shirt who was actually interested in her for once, but Joann did not, in fact, notice the strange going-ons around her. Even when her tote purse began to twitch, she automatically assumed it was her phone on vibrate - conveniently forgetting that her phone was plugged in at the charging station and had given her trouble earlier. It wasn't until Jasper loudly announced to everyone in the room that the exit had just become a suggestion. At first, Joann idly wondered if the young fella she had picked up was trying to start trouble or rob the place - in which case, she planned to give him a stern talking to, but when she looked in his direction, she saw that he had meant what he said. There was no handle on the door. No handle on the door.

WHY WAS THERE NO HANDLE ON THE DOOR?

It's also when she noticed that the shelves had somehow turned into cardboard even though she had picked up snacks only a moment ago. Her eyes caught sight of movement by the coolers, and she heard a chirping noise that might have sounded cute if it weren't so out of place in a random gas station. There were yellow vaguely alien... frogs? pushing in great numbers at the coolers and sliding onto the open floor and hopping around - covering more and more square area with each hop and leaving a trail of yellow slime where they went.

"Oh no. No, no, no. NOPE! Ah've done had enough!" She quickly moved away from the frogs.

The twitching in her purse increased. She headed towards the door. "Move!" she said to anyone who might be in her way. "I'm gettin' us outta here!"

She ran at the door a little sideways intending to brute-force it open. Ordinarily, with her weight and the amount of oomph in her run, this would've worked. Unfortunately, it did not this time. All she had to show for her effort was a sore shoulder. She whirled towards the clerk. She side-stepped Elise a little due to her holding one of those slimy yellow creatures. She shuddered, then she gave her full attention to the clerk.

"Now, see here-!! I-I-"

Her mouth fell slack when she noticed that the clerk was suddenly eight feet tall with unnaturally long arms. He definitely was not human. Joann's breath escaped her a moment. Then, she snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. She marched up to the counter. She slammed both of her hands on top of it with a resounding smack sound.

"You listen! Ya can't keep us trapped in here. It's darn right un-American trappin' a bunch of mostly innocent folks against their will-like. Now, you open that door right now, or - or I'll tell your manager about this!" She shook her finger at him in a vaguely threatening manner. Her face had taken on a red hue from anger, and her bosom rose and fell with each powerful angry huff of her breath.

Wyll , Klown , AI10100

 

[Klown]

Interaction: Gigglecake Zedalith Wyll
timesink PawPawkit TheRealAngeloftheStorm
Ambiloquous AI10100 Alien222 Theasuke BriiAngelic
Kameron Esters- efferve

His eyes find Joann. First the right one, then the left, and then his head. Disjointed parts of the same whole. A liberal interpretation of a human. He grew. Swallowing space with a tree root’s greed. His back curved as the nape of his neck touched the ceiling, head bent forward. The walls around him pinched together, sucked in by obscurity.

“You seem to misunderstand.” The curl of his brows read a genuine confusion. “The door left on its own accord. It must have gotten offended by all that unfortunate slamming. Doors are quite sensitive, you know?” He curves down; neck stretched an inch longer, his head tilting as if wobbled on loose hinges. “Perhaps it was given a bad impression.” His smile returned.

The pristine floors are coated in torn lemon skins and viscous yellow membrane, the lemon frogs exploring what the aisles had to offer.

Arms sprouted from the clerk’s unnaturally stretched torso, tree branches to a trunk far too thin. They bend and slither across the gas station, touring snakes that stop in front of each of his customers, where they deposit empty plastic bags for each of them.

“You may place the hatchlings in here for convenience. Please hurry along, my shift will be over soon.” He’s inhumane. A web, a mold, a stain. Something you feel compelled to clean, but don’t know where to begin. There is no malice to his excitement, but an anticipation. A stretch after a busy day, shedding restriction like snakeskin.

​

 

[Wyll]

GESTALT

Cassidy
McNamara

A small prickling of red rose to his cheeks at her smile, giving her a small, slightly-more-confident-than-his-last-attempt smile, bowing his head and tipping an imaginary hat like any good Southerner would. “Not a bother, ma’am. You go take care of business.”

Cassidy had always been one to advocate for putting people in their place and, if they got hurt in the process, then that was just how the cookie crumbled and there was nothing he could do about it. It was definitely encouraging to see that she believed the same.

Cassidy took a quick look around the station, not really looking for anything in particular - something in his gut just told him things were about to start going south. And a man always trusts his gut.

The first sign was the boy who looked dressed for all seasons and yet no season at the same time. Switching his gaze to the door, he noticed - as everyone else did - the door missing the one thing that made any door a door: a way to open it. Un-openable doors. That’s alright. Ain’t nothin’ new there.

The second was the cry from a girl he couldn’t quite see, but he was certain even Ma and Pa had heard her. Screaming girls too? Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout there. We’re good. We’re just dandy. Cassidy slowly nodded his head, accepting everything as it happened, although his face was completely devoid of all emotion - like a computer that was well on its way to crashing; that blue screen of death you receive before everything simply goes black.

One blink later and there was somebody in the door. Cassidy looked away before his eyes were violently yanked back towards the door. There is somebody in the door. The nodding was getting desperate now; his ear twitching; lips pursed and eyes distant. One of them circus acts. That’s all this is. A circus must be passing through. Who’d have thunk it.

And then it happened. The straw that broke the camel's back. The drop that made the cup overflow. The final nail in the coffin.

The lemon frogs.

Cassidy watched as they moved, slithered actually, around the gas station, staring blankly without a single thought behind his eyes. There was only so much tomfoolery he could comprehend and this tom had fooleried a little too hard and a little too long for Cassidy to stay in this station a single moment longer.

He let out a small, terse laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. I had the right idea the first time: nope.

He looked again at the locked door. Or, rather the door-looking wall. Because that's all it was now: a wall. Wall or not, I need to get out of here. Ma and Pa are waiting. Ain't got time to dilly-dally in here like some retired ox.

A train of thought started moving in his head. It may have been one of those old locomotives from the 1800’s that were moving by the power of hopes and dreams, but by both gosh and golly, it was still a train and it was doing its best.

The train arrived at its destination once Cassidy set eyes on the glass that made up the door. Glass was breakable. He'd seen Joann's attempt earlier but he planned to be a lot more…precise.

He walked calmly up to the door, his violent intentions hidden behind a casual stride, lest any clerk stop him. As he strolled towards the door, he began pulling off his light jacket, wrapping it around his hand. Arriving at the door, he simply started at it, like he was looking right through the glass, as he completed the wrap, forming a perfect glove around his hand.

In the same time it took for a bird to flap its wings, Cassidy's entire countenance changed, like a switch had just been flipped.

His nonchalant expression was replaced by one of determination. He threw his right foot back, planting it firmly. A slight squat; a twist that started at the ankle; a clenched fist. The four knuckles of the first were called confusion, frustration, irritation and stress; all compressed into one package for express delivery to the glass that filled the door. A textbook punch, just like Pa had taught him.

However, as fist accelerated toward glass, Cassidy caught the faintest glimpse of a distortion in his reflection. Not a distortion caused by whatever hullabaloo was going on in the store, but the type any contractor had seen: the type you get when you look at tempered glass.

Cassidy had thrown his biggest, strongest, fastest punch at tempered glass; there was only one way this could go.

When his fist connected with the glass, the sound that came from it wasn't…right. Again, not due to anything weird happening with the store. It just sounded painful, hollow…broken.

Yep. That hand is good and broken,, alright. Ain't no two ways about it. If Cassidy was in any sort of pain or shock, he didn't show it. In fact, he acted as if nothing at all had just happened. However, he very deliberately refused to unwrap his hand.

He turned and smiled sheepishly at those around him. “Well darn. The glass ate that punch like a turkey dinner. I coulda bet my car that that would work.” Behind the smile, Cassidy was fighting back a scream of pain as his broken hand throbbed, hidden inside his jacket. After all, Pa would always say that Jack and Jill don't need to know when you fall down the hill. Granted, a broken hand might not be on the same scale as falling on a hill, but the same concept applied. At least, it did to his Pa - a loving man, but a man who adopted Elsa's philosophy of "conceal, don't feel". Cassidy didn't buy into the idea as strongly as his Pa did, but he'd be damned before he had people worrying about his hand when there was a crazy gas station to escape.

“Don't matter though. Glass is glass. And glass breaks. There's gotta be something in here that'll get the job done. Ain't about to sit here and collect lemon frogs for…”

He turned to the weirdest part of all of this, the one thing he had been trying to ignore ever since walking into the station: the clerk. Cassidy looked him over, eyes narrow, features scrunched and gears turning as he wracked his mind, looking for the prefect insult.

“Ain't about to sit here and collect frogs for…for Slenderman over three,” he huffed.

Good one, Cassidy.

Mentions: Joann ( Gigglecake ), Elise ( AI10100 ), Jasper ( Klown ), Vincent ( timesink ), Cosmo ( Alien222 ), Clerk ( Klown )