trapped in a box!

[gloomyapoplectic]

[THE "IN A BOX" MEME]

You appear to have woken up in a box. It's cramped and you can't see shit.

Well, maybe you can just-- move this way--

oh my god there is another person in this box and you have no idea who they are.

What do you do?


Legit. You're in a small, dark, nigh-indestructible box with a random person. No scenarios. Just shenanigans. Post your character waking up (or sleeping stubbornly), or tag others! Are you waking up too? Maybe you've been awake, waiting? Maybe you're trying to wake up the lazy asshole you're stuck in the box with? Doesn't matter. Antics. Go.

Comments

[chronomancer]

Oh, I can multitask, but what for? I have all the time in the world.

[fabricates]

Well, I don't. So do me a favor and try not to waste too much time. You might break your thinkpan if you think too hard anyway.

[chronomancer]

Says the troll flailing over a box. Again. A box. You're being ridiculous.

[fabricates]

[She's kicking him again. ::::T]

A box with you in it. Spoilers: it's not the box, it's you.

[chronomancer]

[He's kicking back. Unrepentantly.]

Oh, boohoo. I'm so sorry about that.

[fabricates]

You should be. Your entire existence is sorry.

[Grabbing for his hair to yank. Take that.]

[chronomancer]

[SDLFGHSDLFKG HANDS OFF THE FUCKING HAIR, BITCH! >| He swats at her, unsuccessfully, and then goes back to clawing at her legs.]

Yeah, and you still manage to be even more useless than me. Wow, congratulations. That takes some fucking talent.

[fabricates]

[OW????]

Wow, at least I fucking tried! You have done nothing but bitch and complain and go 'ohhhhhhhh hold on I'm thinking of a brilliant plan' except you have no brilliant plans because you're dumb. Stupid stupid dumb.

[CLAWS DOWN HIS FACE >::::|]

[chronomancer]

[He howls at the welts, green pooling up in them and driping down his face.]

Stupid stupid dumb, but I have more to show for myself than some fucking fancy wings that are good for fucking nothing.

[fabricates]

[Fuck you her wings are awesome.]

Last I checked, they're good for a lot of things. Like, oh, I don't know, flying? I don't see you climbing your echeladders to God Tier. You're just jealous that I'm better than you. Couldn't make it? Poor wriggler. I feel soooooooo sorry for you!

[Yes good, she likes this new bleeding turn of events. Punching him now. Enjoying this more than she should and is kind of distracted from the box issue so profit???]

[chronomancer]

[His head lolled back from the punch, but then he growled, low and angry and borderline feral and he shoved himself at her, fingers curled into claws.]

Fuck God Tier. Fuck the game. Fuck you.

[...not even him might know for sure, if that's meant to be punctuated by a bite or a kiss. But there's something going on.]

[fabricates]

[Oh, looks like she hit a sore spot there. She wasn't really expecting to get shoved back against the box, and she doesn't like things she doesn't expect. So she's digging her nails into his shoulders to try to get some semblance of control.]

You brought it up, you stupid little shit!

[She's so angry and her hands are preoccupied so she just snaps her head forward towards his. And whether that ends in headbutting him or kissing him, well, she's wagers she'll be satisfied either way.]

[chronomancer]

Shut up!

[There's skin near his lips and that's all he needs to bite down hard. Fuck, he's so mad. All his violent urges always found a way to express themselves against anything but trolls, he didn't know he had it in him to be this mad, but fuck it, it's like she's pressing every single button at the same time and he just hates. So much.]

[fabricates]

Fuck!

[She yelps when the skin breaks on her lip, but hell if she's pulling away first like a wuss. Her hands dart back to his hair, and she digs her nails into his scalp as she tries to shove forward to get closer to him, to that kiss. She wants nothing more than to get out of this godforsaken box and get away from this prick while simultaneously wanting to stay right the hell where she is and feel this intense hatred wash over her like a wave. It's electric.]

[chronomancer]

[The snarl is tainted blue, mixing slowly with the green still dripping from the welts on his face. But fuck that, he's not going anywhere, not until she shuts up. One arm folded against the box, giving him a leaning point to maneuver his weight, while the other hand is curled like a claw, digging into her side. He'll shut her up. Fuck, he'll shut her up even if he has to tear her fucking throat out with his own damn teeth.]

[fabricates]

[Yeah, she's pretty preoccupied from talking now that she's try biting at his lips to draw more blood. There's a wince in her features as she feels skin give way to nails but she just doesn't care enough to withdraw. Let him make her bleed, it just triples her anger. One hand rakes down his scalp, his neck, his back - trying to entice deep rivulets of jade to the surface.]

[chronomancer]

[His back arches into her fingers, as if taunting the claws painting bright, green lines of blood as they break skin. But right afterwards he shoves his weight down on her, snarling green and blue and sheer fucking hatred. He won't stand back. He can't. It's that same thrill, the song of a broken paradox demanding to be fixed, the pounding in his ears when a timeline is doomed, the certainty that overrides fear. He can't stand back, he won't let go. He knows he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he does, provided he's not killed the second he does.]

[fabricates]

[She inhales sharply, digging her nails in deeply as she breaks away to lick a trail up one of her scratches. It tastes disgusting and she hates it and she hates him and she just can't drag herself away from it. Her hand reaches for his scarf to pull it tighter around his neck. Even if she can't really see him in the dark, she's pretty sure she can envision the fascinating color he'll turn.]

[chronomancer]

[The hiss at the lick ends in a hitch as air suddenly becomes more scarce. In retaliation, the hand so far holding some of his weight against the box drops down, aiming for her neck. He fails, unable to see well in the dark of the box, resting instead on her chest. And then he doesn't care and lets all his weight down on it, viciously enough to make breathing hard. The snarl is audible now, a low, furious sound that promises no stop to the hostilities.]

[fabricates]

[Her air comes out in a gasp, and she tries to shrink away from the hand interrupting her breathing but this goddamn box is too small. So instead she holds steadfast to his scarf, keeping it just tight enough to make his breathing labored but not tight enough to kill. Yet. She will not be the first to give in, she won't. Fuck him and the hoofbeast he rode in on, she's the one in control here. She drags her teeth down his cheek before sinking them into his lip again.]

[chronomancer]

[He makes a sound low in his throat, a rumble of equal parts disdain and surprise, as her teeth catch skin and then break it. He shoves down on her again, wanting to hear her bones creak under his weight, wanting to hear her breathing gasp and catch. His own breathing is raged, trying to compensate for the fact she's choking him with his own damn scarf. But fuck that. Fuck everything.]