ercookies | TDM 002

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!tdm

TDM 002

TDM 002: IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO

( 1 ) Around mid-morning, a message from the Augur appears on bracelets all across the city. "New organisms discovered. Domestication in progress."

The wark of a chocobo rises up from the outskirts of the city. Several more join in, forming a charming chorus. And, strangely, this is when new arrivals begin to show up.

Beamed in one at a time, scanned en masse, they are processed just as the first wave was. There's one major difference: whereas the old guard was given their bracelets and ushered into the City, the new folks are also given... collars.

Buckled, snapped, or otherwise fastened around their necks, a variety of colorful collars with some rather unusual novelty pet tags. (These are just a few suggestions. The typical “If found, please return to ____” is also very much acceptable.)

"You are new organisms. Domestication in progress. Compatible Eros energy will complete domestication."

No matter how hard they try, characters cannot take the collars off by themselves. They need a partner's help - but not just anyone will do. It very well might be the first person they find, or it might take several tries.

The robots grow bolder as the day grows on, targeting characters who aren't new, as well.

"Y̶o̶u̴ ̸a̷r̸e̷ ̵o̵r̵g̶a̴n̷i̷s̶m̸s̶.̶ ̶D̷o̶m̴e̴s̶t̶i̶c̵a̸t̶i̸o̴n̸ ̷i̵n̸ ̴p̸r̶o̵g̷r̵e̷s̵s̷."

Their antics die down by nightfall, but for the next day or two, the occasional malfunctioning 'bot may accost someone in the street, so stay on your toes!

( 2 ) An abandoned racetrack lights up the night. That's right: place your bets, folks, because these birds are about to run around a track while robots sell synthetic, overpriced aphro-popcorn.

...Did you say priced?

That’s right! If you participated in the orgy earlier this month, you'll find you have a stash of credits accessible in your app.

You've fucked money back into the world, so why not waste it?

(Opportunities to earn credits will come up periodically and won't always be sexual in nature, so don't worry if your character wouldn't have any yet.)

And if you don't have credits to bet with, why not get creative?

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●
N A V I G A T I O N

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

S&M

[ It's not the bracelet he takes issue with. It's barely the getting beamed to an island despite not having signed up for the cruise. It's the collar, which he notices about four seconds after his eyes skirt the people and terrain around him.

Not that he can tell, but it's blue. Worn leather looking. There's a little silver tag hanging off that he has no idea reads bucky bones on one side. He does know that wrapping metal fingers around it and yanking, squeezing, otherwise twisting does not accomplish a single damn thing.

There's a less than subtle pissed off aura hanging around his eyes, his down-turned mouth. It probably paints an intimidating picture to the person he grabs firmly around the back of their shoulder. Gently (as gentle as metal hands and super soldier strength can be in times of duress) wheels them around so he can stop biting the inside of his cheek long enough to ask: ]

Can you get this thing off my god damn neck?

choke-o-robo

[ The first time he's beeped at, he manages to shrug it off with a flat expression and a nice long wide stride away. The second time's less friendly, with a dark mutter under his breath and a stare that any human would read as fuck immediately off. It's the third time that he snaps, not with a shout or a bang but with one hand flying out whip-crack quick to snatch the robot by whatever looks most like its head and smash it swiftly into the nearest hard surface.

That's it, just one blow and done. It feels... so good. Christ, it really does feel satisfying.

Until two more wheel in like little police cars to avenge their fallen brother, and he sighs. ]

Ah, hell.

[ Tonelessly, and with Great Amounts of Resignation. ]

big bird

[ He's not much of a gambler. He's not in the mood for sports. He's definitely not interested in racing or riding or anything of the sort, and so while people may be cheering or betting? Your boy Barnes is standing off to the sidelines, hands in his pockets, wry and irreverent. ]

So when do we eat 'em?

misc.

open to unique starters, throw me anything. hit me at rifting for questions or plotting.

1) Collars

[The whole process was disorienting for him. From the lift and rise of being taken from the middle of New York to the sudden buzzing of electronics and the sensations of a new environment. It smelled wrong. It felt wrong. The city was in ruins, if it even was a city. The tech running around didn't have the quiet humm he'd come to associate with Stark's armorbots. Everything was off.

And then there was the collar that he couldn't find the latch for to release. It was around his neck and he didn't remember quite how it had gotten there. Part of that blur of winding up here without a building on top of him and without his suit. Well, he had a suit on, but it was of the business variety, not the red leather type. One hand clutched his cane, the other reached up to try to feel what was on the dangling tag. It wasn't recessed enough for him to pick it up, so he sighed in frustration and started tapping the tip of his cane, like a good blind man would do in a strange environment. By the sounds around him and the outcries and confusion, he wasn't the only new arrival, nor was that group the only one there. Interesting.]

Does, ah, anyone have any idea where we are?

2) Raceway

[There's one place where there seems to be a lot of bodies congregating, and by the smell and sound of it, it's a sort of track. Not horses, though. He knows what horses smell like. These are... if the outline and scent is anything to go by... giant chickens. Great. Just great. He was in a run down city with giant racing chickens, and he still hadn't figured out how to get out of here. Because here was definitely a long, long way from home.]

Betting on chickens. Or are they some mutant ostrich?

[Muttered to himself as he continued to try to figure out just what the heck were lining up to take off.]

3) Network

username: murdock (audio)
Hello. Matt Murdock here. Anyone from New York?
Not sure anyone's going to need the services of an attorney here.
I'd be interested in finding out what's been established.
Also very interested in general details of where we are, exactly.
Any help is appreciated.

4) Wildcard

[Got another idea? Want to run into him somewhere else? Please feel free. PM me to discuss, otherwise go nuts.]

1.

Teleports, bizarre hospital rooms, strange holograms- these are things that Tony can take in stride, sort of. Sure, they're weird and a little off-putting, but isn't that par for the course for him and how his life seems to work? The answer to that is yes, by the way.

It takes Tony all of five minutes to poke at his bracelet and bring up his apparent stats and an intriguing app with way too many As in the title. "Who thought this up, an alliteration addict?" He can't help but smirk at himself as if he's amused by his attempt at humor, but there's other things to focus on, such as the collar that's been fastened around his neck.

He can't quite get a look at the tag, but it looks to him like it says something along the lines of I'm why we can't have nice things. It's not a falsehood by any means, but the disturbing thing about it is that he can't imagine who would put such a thing on him. Anyone who might is back at home, as far as he knows, so that's another puzzle to figure out.

But hey, a collar's a collar, right? It got put on somehow, so that means it can be taken off. So, congratulations, you're getting accosted by one Tony Stark who's putting on his best wide grin and hoping his appearance isn't a turn off. Gamma radiation is a funny thing, after all. Who knew that getting fried by it leaves behind scars?

... Okay, that wasn't all that funny. But the point is that Tony's hoping to sweet-talk someone into getting the collar off, and he has to turn up the charm to do that. "Hey there, you got a second?"

2.

"So, gambling's the name of the game? Betting on stuff and hoping you win?" It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that, but what's a guy to do when he doesn't have any credits on his person? Something tells Tony that the bills in his wallet might not do him a whole lot of good here, but hey, stranger things have happened, right? It doesn't say anywhere that trading isn't an option either.

"Still, kind of hard to bet if you don't have anything to bet with, huh?" He directs that last comment at someone who's standing not that far away from him. "How'd you get your hands on that?" Yeah, he's on to you; he's just watched the person he's set his attentions on go up and make a bet, and now he's curious.

3. Wildcard

[ Got something else you'd like to do instead? Either drop me a line @

starkravinghazelnuts or go nuts with whatever your heart desires. I'm open to anything! ]

Edited 2020-06-18 08:21 (UTC)

[The blond sitting one other spectator down leans forward with his elbows on the knees of his baggy, rugged pants to get a look at the guy who just wryly suggested eating the chocobos.

Maybe it's the utter judgment in his eyes. The greater probability is it's the implausibly large sword across his back and the supersoldier don't fuck with me muscle mass on the other guy, but the spectator between them takes one look around and goes off in search of anywhere else to be.

Cloud's expression pinches into a frown.]

They're not for eating.

[These birds just arrived and already somebody stans them.]

[ There's not a whole lot to do around here except fight aggressive vegetation, eat aphrodisiac-laced food when it's actually available, or hunt for opportunities to tick another box off. Gladio's not a gambling man, but he hasn't realized how much he's missed his feathery friends until he's seen them craning their beaks forward as they race around the track, warking cheerfully.

And then some guy has to be that guy!! ]

Beg your pardon?

[ Heavy brows lift at the man. It's not the first time Gladio's run into someone who didn't know what a chocobo was, but old habits die hard and Gladio still can't believe that his ubiquitous riding mammal from his world is being mistaken for food. The flat, vaguely judgmental look settles on Bucky. ]

Would you eat a horse?

[ Listen, he knows about them now! Besides, chocobos have a... unique smell. It's stronger in stables where many are raised at once, and it's not exactly appetizing. And once you've been nuzzled by one, it's incredibly difficult to envision them as edible. ]

(1) Nearly Headless Nick

[ He has observed how others have struggled to remove the collar. There are no clasps, no locks, just a gaudy tag that in his case read "let me lick you all over." What a joke.

Fortunately, he has the right ability to deal with this. Just watch him. He puts his palms under his chin, jimmies it a little, pushes up and you can see his head detach from his neck! But not completely, it just opens this weird void between his chin and his neck. Perhaps someone with psychic or magic abilities could see how it zipped up with a golden zipper. He pushes harder. Why isn't this working?

Normally he'd have his head off at this point, but now he's just a man, standing in front of another person, awkwardly beheaded. ]

This is embarrassing. Could you turn around for a bit? [ Let him zip himself back with dignity. ]

(2) Gambling gangsters

[ Alright, this is more his speed. Maybe not the giant chickens, but the gambling. He knows gambling. He's handled bets, skimmed a little off the top, settled disputes for the mob. Earned enough money and status to buy the designer suit he's wearing.

As he watches the race, he's starting to think that this operates a lot like normal horse racing, but he can't tell for sure. He needs some money to bet. Preferably not his. ]

Hey, can I borrow some money? I promise I'll make it worthwhile. [ He makes zero guarantees of winning this bet. ]

(3) wildcard

[ Throw a starter, get a reply. You can PM me or hit me up on discord (Aia#9124) if you need me. ]

▌ ARE YOU MY NEW FAMILY?

▌ FOR CLAIMING AN ANGEL
For Angela Ziegler, who had just been in the deserts of Egypt on a transport nearing Nekhel, a little midway point on the main drag heading toward another call for aid in Iraq, her immediate assumption upon waking is that they were attacked. She was disoriented, perhaps with a concussion, and it must be dusk— it isn't nearly as hot and dry as it should be in a bombed out building. Except, no, the robotics present were no known models of Omnics— and she realizes she has no symptoms of a concussion. No pain and no lightheadedness, no dizziness, no disorientation once she sits up and feels something clipped about her throat as one of the units backs away from her.

It's a rather sunny collar she can't see, fingertips delicate as she explores it carefully with worry clear on her face. But there seems to be nothing dangerous about it except for the fact that it won't come undone— and it has a tag on it. With no mirrors around, she has no choice but to turn to the nearest person upon wandering out of the exam room and ask:

"Excuse me, can you tell me what this says? I can have a look at yours, as well, if you'd like. There must have been some sort of mistake." ( An alternative, for claiming her: (Name) is so fetch! )

▌ FOR BEING CLAIMED BY AN ANGEL
At the very least, she's a friendly face with a gentle smile and she seems to be keeping her head about her as she explores the lobby and takes stock of her supplies. She's very likely to approach anyone working themselves up in a panic or a rage, or isolating themselves off from the initial groups, or may just have happened to catch her name at someone's throat and tries to catch their attention with a flutter of her fingers and a half-raised hand.

The doctor has all the air of someone trying to help, voice accented in a playfully-Germanic curl of her syllables and clearly trying not to be bothered by the fact that they've all been collared as 'new organisms' while many existing seem not to have been grouped off the same way.

"After some questioning it seems as though some 'Eros energy' in this place should help with the collars' purpose— may I? I might be the 'Angela' you need."

All with an easy smile and a little gesture to someone's collar, whether or not they've already been told what their nametag says.

▌ MAYBE YOU'RE A... CHOCO-HO?

▌ A COO OF A KWEH
First of all, these strange, much-cuter-than-ostriches creatures are wonderful, so of course she's gravitated to them as they begin to be caught and fed as a means to tame them. Blue eyes are bright with her curiosity as she reaches up to pet one, in particular, nails sifting right into the tuft of feathers above its beak and getting a pleased trill from the bird and a gentle nibbling at her sleeve, which has her grinning all the wider. They seem docile and sweet, for the most part, so she'll hang around for a while and be sure no one tries to harm any of them if she can help it.

She's no veterinarian, but some things are universal— icing swelling, suturing up skin, bandaging. She doesn't have to be an expert on animal anatomy to know that first aid applies to all living organisms, which they seem to have been lumped together as in the first place. By the time they're being herded into the track which had seemed the only appropriate space to gather them, at first, they've all been given various colors of collars and she seems to be watching one in an indigo blue collar quite closely.

"They're going to race them...? Already? I do hope this remains humane."

▌ "SPICY" POPCORN (NSFW?)
As a new arrival, Angela didn't have any credits earned— but it doesn't mean she's been spared the expensive popcorn in the stands, both because she's rather gregarious on her own (or perhaps you offered her some yourself), and because it was about the only food present for the moment. It's only right to share, isn't it? She may even offer some to others before the effects start to hit her.

And boy do they hit her. Sunny collar still about her throat or no, she flushes high in the cheeks and it seems to spread down to her shoulders where the neck of her cotton pullover yawns wide, and the way she leans up against the person next to her is telling, craving contact. The next time she glances up, her eyes are blown dark and that device at her wrist is pulsing pink, with the A5 card ready to be pulled up. It seems their energy signatures are compatible.

There isn't a shy bone in her body when she asks: "Hey... What's on yours?"

The card, of course. Might as well get one squared away, hm?

( ooc: feel free to PM me, DM me (🍑milkies#5968), or PP me (

peachmilk if you'd like to hash out plans, but feel free to jump right in, as well! angela is a 37yo doctor from the near-future, fresh from a combat zone; she's open to m/f and f/f with NSFW partners preferably 25+, but will go a little lower to ~21 if they come off maturely. there's more on her over here for stats, info, permissions, & kinks! )

i. chocono.

[This was not a horse.

This was definitely not a horse, and as a result, the great and glorious Char Aznable suffers a beak to the head, a beak to the face, and a beak everywhere else within reach while he struggles to subdue the perturbed creature. He's managed to finagle a bridle, but that arguably hurts more than it helps; it refuses every effort and every attempt and won't leave him be.

Eventually, Char reaches out to the nearest passerby, sore and surly. Seems like this was going to require some teamwork.]

A little help, if you wouldn't mind. Not sure what I've done, but...

[Peck, peck, peck.]

...damn, they're persistent!

ii. kink shaming.

[Look, he gets it. He's not particularly driven by sex, but he gets it. Char doesn't judge others, at least not for their partners and their proclivities. If someone wants to waltz around, wearing a collar and begging for more, then fine. As long as he wasn't part of it, he couldn't care less, could go about his day without batting so much as an eyelash at the display.

Unfortunately, he's the one wearing a collar in this particular scenario. Lingering at the city outskirts, Char grumbles under his breath.]

How does this thing come off...?

[Spoilers: it doesn't. Not without release. And such an embarrassing tag, too. It has him feeling unusually... frisky. An unwelcome distraction, to be sure, and he's making quite a scene.]

iii. off to the races.

[Not that Char particularly wants to see another chocobo in his life, but he has to admit that watching them wark, wark, wark their way around a race track was awfully entertaining. He sweet talks his way into some popcorn—certainly a step up from those stale rations—and strikes up a conversation with the person beside him.]

I'm betting on red. He seems spunky.

[Except he didn't actually bet anything, and he's only favoring his preferred color. Ever so magnanimous, Char offers his new "friend" a handful of popcorn.]

By the way, did you want some? I've got more than plenty.

iv. wildcard.

[Hit me with whatever you've got, anywhere in the world! Happy to workshop any ideas.]

(( Relevant information and permissions, along with a kink list. Prompts two and three are open to all for smut; Char's collar will only come off with orgasm. ))

BIRD TROUBLE.

[ someone doesn’t like birds and is being cornered by it. ]

Okay. That is — [ the bird fluffs its feathers and rears its neck up, in a show of dominance, trying to make itself bigger than angelo. not that that’s difficult, considering angelo’s petite height, but this is ridiculous that he can be shown up by a bird. one that is bigger than what he'd like and smells horrible.

as this isn’t exactly a mobile suit, nor is it a person he can reason with, angelo’s feeling very much put upon, looking at it in disgust. ]

Can’t you just — get away from me. I do not like your feathery brethren.

[ anyway, three more show up in interest. looks like things will get dicey. ]

RACE TRACK.

[ angelo watches all the birds run around and is bored. ]

They should do it gladiator-style, instead.

[ he folds his arms over his chest, a foot tapping in annoyance on the floor as he watches the birds squabble around on the track. ]

What a waste. This thing can probably feed a family of five with leftovers for the next day.

WILDCARD.

[ no nsfw option for angelo this time around, but we can talk it over. relevant info needed for nsfw things in his journal! ]

Edited 2020-06-18 15:57 (UTC)

COLLARS.

[ what the living fuck is this hellhole?

after destroying some of the increasingly annoying robots, reno spent several minutes trying to pull the collar off of his neck before finally giving up. this is all so fucking stupid. did he actually listen to what they were yammering on about when he arrived? no. no, he fucking did not. he was in the middle of something! (it's classified, so he won't go into details on it. just know that it was super important and mind your own business.)

inspecting himself in a storefront window, he makes a face at the letters on the pink collar around his neck. what does that say? ]

'In my defense, I was left unsupervised'... [ he was the supervision, assholes. turning the tag around, he tries to squint at a smaller inscription on it, but he can't seem to make out what it says. oh fucking well. he's had worse things wrapped around his neck before. what's one dumb pet collar? ] Fuuuuuck me.

[ he needs to go find something sharp like scissors. ]

Hey, you! [ please do mind him yanking any random passersby by their arms to stop them. ] Got a knife on ya? Scissors? Pliers? A fucking wrench? I gotta get this piece of shit [ he points at the collar. ] off of me.

CHOCOBOS.

[ aw, lookit these yellow feathery cuties. guess this island isn't a complete fuckfest if it has chocobos on it. maybe he can adopt one. name it after the boss. ]

C'mere, little guy. [ he is crouched down on the floor, coaxing one of the smaller birds over. ] I won't harm ya. [ he tugs at the collar around his neck. ] Between you and me, I'm the one who's been restrained, so if a lead shows up, it's likelier to go on me than you.

[ is this redheaded weirdo having a full blown conversation with a baby chocobo? yes. yes, he is. if someone has a problem with it, then they can kindly fuck off. ]

NETWORK. | un: FU

this is one big elaborate prank ain't it?
i've been given a lot of to dos in my life but i've never had an actual to DO list
what is this one on here?

hold on

WRITING
how am i supposed to write if i don't even have a FUCKIN PEN
anyway, i'm at the races rn
who wants to lend a guy some credits? i want popcorn

WILDCARD.

[ hit me up with whatever! i'll roll with it. permissions and kinks listed here. pm for discussion! ✌️ ]

[he's just in the rafters at this point, taking a few photos of the racetrack and living with the fact that the coolest things in any universe have found a home here on the Nameless Isle, when he overhears something... sinful.

Prompto's eyes widen as he opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowing downward, as there's a lilt of actual anger forming on the features of an otherwise extremely easy going guy. mr. Barnes, a chocobo enthusiast would like a word or two with you.

these are beautiful creatures, meant to be companions!!! to humans!!! Prompto's jaw forces his mouth closed as he stares in disbelief.]

Who hurt you?

[ angelo also has his own popcorn, but it's stolen. because he can. but he peers at char's popcorn anyway, just in case it's of a different flavour than what he's got.

nope. just one flavour, it seems. ]

Are we betting on who dies first, or who will win the race?

[ not quite at ease with his surroundings, angelo still sits with a tense air, even as he's already moved from a more relaxed sitting position as opposed to having his back ramrod straight all the time. it's the unfortunate consequence of being with the wrong char. ]

Um.

( that's not an answer, Peter, try and remember some actual words. look, he's just not used to being grabbed like that, is all, he's shaking off spider senses ringing alarm bells for the sake of it. he was just wandering around, as per usual... certainly not expecting to be flagged down for such a purpose.

since, to be honest, this guy isn't even the first he's seen wandering around with a collar. he thought it was some ... robot thing, though now that he's been given a bland request to remove it he supposes it's one of those robot things, as in something they did on a whim without any sense of approval.

cool cool cool. love that for a place so many people are forcibly trapped in. anyway, )

Yeah, okay. ( he pauses, uncomfortably skeptical because That's Just How This Place Is, and adds, ) Can you... ( he spins a finger to illustrate what is apparently too difficult to turn into words. aka... turn around, pls. )

[ angelo is looking at him in disgust and a bit of curiosity. ]

I mean, certainly, but what are you doing? You're a mess.

[Char raises a skeptical eyebrow, like a parent disciplining an unruly child.]

I don't think it's that kind of sport, Angelo. Get your head out of the gutter.

[And just where did you get that popcorn from, sir? Char looks doubtful, but figures it's best not to ask. Hopefully there isn't a dead body, bleeding out below the stands, because they made the fatal mistake of denying Angelo his stolen snack.]

...although I'm surprised that you accepted my invitation. Missed me already?

[God, that smile was obnoxious. And then some.]

[he's.

relatively surprised that someone who looks like such a thug a) knows what a chocobo is and b) is tenderly relating to it just like he would. he can surmise by the glam-band hair that he's rocking, that he probably comes from the same parallel world that Cloud, the hot goth uncle and the cool guy obsessed with morning trainings at the beach do. which, okay, he's gotten along with all of them pretty well, why not try to... uhm. make friends?]

Crouching is kinda like a predatory stance for these guys. If you sit down, they're more likely to come to you.

[he offers some sage advice to the redhead, and if he doesn't trust it, he'll just have to show him.]

It is a reasonable question.

[ what is wrong with everyone, why are his suggestions regarding these birds' welfare being met with scrutiny.

and surprisingly, nobody died for the popcorn. he's just adept at pickpocketing like he were in the streets again and felt no guilt about it considering how overpriced it was in this barren wasteland. seems like a scam to have to use credits for a snack.

angelo snacks on his popcorn with gritted teeth. ] Don't get cocky. Familiarity breeds contempt.

[ well, prompto isn't wrong. reno does hail from the great planet of gaia. in fact, his home is so great that he already misses it a ton, especially since tseng is gonna have his ass for disappearing mid-mission. pick a better time for interdimensional kidnapping, erku!

glancing over at the blond, his brows raise slightly at the umprompted advice before he drops down on the floor unceremoniously. tucking one leg in, he rests his right arm on top of bent knee as he looks up at the younger man. ]

Like this? [ he really wants to pet a baby chocobo, ok? don't fucking @ him. ]

And yet here you remain.

[It is a reasonable retort.]

[when in Rome, after all.

Prompto neatly sits down next to Reno, criss-cross-apple-sauce the way he was taught to do in kindergarten, and watches him try to encourage the little fella to come grace Reno with its warm and nuzzling countenance. it's really, really hard not to absolutely love the shit out of baby chocobos.

to think, in just a few months time, it'll be a wily teenager, buck wild and ready to lay waste to the desert outside of town. even that sets a warmth through Prompto's three-sizes-too-big heart.]

You got it. [he looks over Reno contemplatively.] I'm Prompto, by the way. Just leave your hand out, nice and still. You wanna show the chocobo that it's okay to be curious, but you don't want to make flashy, sudden hand movements to scare it off.

These guys have a lot of anxiety when they're this small, y'know?

[mood.]

[Sam squints at the message for a few minutes before replying. Sure, she knows the nature of the multiverse, but that doesn't keep her from being wary of anyone named Matt Murdock. In spite of her unease, her voice sounds normal and reasonably friendly.]

Originally from Alabama, but New York's home right now. As much of a home as I have, anyway. Far as I can tell, we're a real long way from New York in any universe. Basically, a busted teleport dragged us all here, and now the robots want us to fuck to generate energy - and your guess is as good as mine as to how that works.

[ when it comes down to learning new things (particularly about animals), reno is all willing and attentive focus. he kinda loves them. a lot. he splays open his hand as instructed, his eyes keen on the tiny creature in front of them. ]

The name's Reno. [ offering him his gloved right hand for a shake, he glances over at the blond curiously. ]

You know a lot about chocobos, don'tcha? [ a beat. ] Are you in the trade?

It probably isn't a good idea. The food here has been laced with aphrodisiacs before.

[ well,

shit. ]

then what are we supposed to eat?

i'm hungry

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 66

TDM 002

QUESTIONS

Bucky Barnes | MCU

Matt Murdock | DDS2 & The Defenders | OTA

1) Collars

2) Raceway

3) Network

4) Wildcard

Tony Stark | MCU

big bird

big bird

Bruno Bucciarati | Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

angela "mercy" ziegler ✚ overwatch

Char Aznable | Gundam

angelo sauper — mobile suit gundam unicorn

reno | ffvii

D:

iii.

S S S S M M M M

1

no subject

you know which one

no subject

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no subject

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3; username s.wilson

no subject

un: mako

no subject