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aboveallthings[In your hand is a fidget cube, a rounded white cube accented with buttons, dials, and switches in the color of a certain Family on the ship.
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
Play with any of the fidget cube's six sides and you'll receive a vision. There are two problems with this:
1) some very important information seems to have been blocked out, and
2) you know, with a bone-deep certainty, that this vision isn't yours.
But if this vision isn't yours...then whose is it? Maybe the color of your cube is a clue.]
BACK TO THE EVENT POST
HERON
Date: 2025-11-14 10:34 pm (UTC)~
You’re in Europe - somewhere in England perhaps, for those who are actually familiar with locations on Earth. Just a regular, bustling town, with you just another face in the crowd.
Your target is a rather tall teen with light brown hair, effortlessly avoiding the crowds with an incredible grace - so much so that it would be easy to miss, were you not paying close attention to him. It actually takes some effort to approach him, your head down just enough to blend in, yet still able to look out from under the brim of your cap to keep an eye on his movements.
You manage to bump into him, and you even make it seem natural despite his best efforts. It’s enough to instantly put him on the alert, but that’s fine - you have his attention now, and that’s exactly what you wanted. With a wary expression, he begins to apologize, but you cut him off:
“Oh, no, it was my fault. You’ll have to forgive me... [DUCKS QUACKING]”
The change in his expression is subtle enough that the masses around them don’t notice the exchange, but he grows very, very tense when he hears that name. When he speaks, it’s not with the soft, if confused tone from before, instead something much lower. Dangerous. “Who are you...?”
You smile. “Oh, no one important.” With a flourish of a bow, you introduce yourself. “My name is [CAR HONKING], the younger brother of [TIRES SCREECHING]"
His expression becomes shock, plain and obvious to any who might happen to look - not that anyone pays you any mind. And then, when the moment passes, the fear, confusion, and most importantly - utter despair kick in.
You take a grim satisfaction in your work. This is, after all, exactly what you were after all along.