The Amended Powders Meme

[makeyourownkindofmusic]

1 - Tag in with your character
2 - Tag another character with a color of your choosing or generate one with RNG.
3 - Make a mess.

1- Pink is alcoholic, best described as freeze-dried whiskey.
2- Orange tastes like blackcurrant juice. It also gives you an amazing amount of energy.
3- Blue tastes like chocolate milk. Drink it and you'll become a child.
4- Red tastes sort of malty, and will make the drinker feel suddenly veeerrry sleepy. They'll be able to explore the dreams of those around them.
5- Purple tastes of orange juice, and will switch your sex.
6- Green just basically makes you want to have sex.
7- Yellow gives you the urge to fight anyone you see and tastes like a big dollop of Vegemite dropped in a glass of water.
8- Brown is Felix Felicis. It tastes like root beer, but makes everything come up Milhouse.

Comments

[thelionheart]

[Okay, he's in his shorts. That's a little odd. What's odder is the face that he's in an arena, filled with people. And he's only wearing shorts.

No, shoes too. Okay, shoes and shorts. And a belt...and gloves?

Somebody is definitely holding his arm up. What the heck is this about?

And then it becomes clear.] Oh! I'm a boxer! I just won!

[thorson]

[Ull looks down at his drink with mild surprise. He sips it again and sits up, trying to think straight.] I think this is getting me drunk. Better not have any more.

[whythesparkles]

[Matty has so far baked: nine cakes and four tarts, three omelettes and a large selection of sushi rolls. And he's still mixing things together, still baking.]

I could bake all night! I WILL bake all night!

[oxfordcommas]

Pink.

[rightest]

...Yellow.

[thanatosdrive]

Pink.

[thelionheart]

...Purple.

THIS WILL END WELL.

[constantasthenorthernstar]

Yellow.

[thanatosdrive]

Red.

totally did not forget him

[smilesinmotion]

[constantasthenorthernstar]

Purple.

[veulen]

[One of the benefits of being comfortable on the series of ships that had a habit of kidnapping people is that she knew how to powdered drinks worked. There were the ones she knew to ignore outright – if only she had the handwritten sign Biscuit had placed over their green powder canister – and the ones that she could drink without any worries.

In this case, pink was safe. Not in huge quantities, probably not in powdered form in food, but a casual drink was fine. It made the waiting game of whatever fight was going on ended and she was snapped back to her ship once again easier to manage.]

[veulen]

[Though Sanna is aware of the issues with eating random food found in the kitchen areas, she typically did so anyways. It was best if the cook in question was there and she could quiz them on the ingredients. It was even better if the cook was not Captain, although he was honest about what side effects his food had.

However, moments like this made her question her blind faith in eating random food. It took her more than a few moments to realize why she was flushed and where the sudden heat came from, and the realization dawned with a degree of relief that she was not male.

It is tempting to run back to her room. For now, though, she remains by the food and considers her options of either throwing the rest of it out or merely warning people as they walk in.

[paard]

[Danute was not a person to think of things in an optimistic matter or a pessimistic matter. She didn't consider herself a realist either, even without considering most realists are merely pessimists who won’t admit to it. Things were things, more or less, and were either opportunities to take advantage of issues to overcome.

Today was a day of opportunities. The ship may not have had much going for it, but she did enjoy the library. Despite the fact her branch of science was about analysis, not discovery or eureka moments, she had made more connections than normal while researching.

It was now time for lunch, and she uncharacteristically hums her way to the main kitchen area, still sipping on the root beer she had taken earlier that day.]

[apapertiger]

[This was weird but workable. It tasted like whiskey, which was not one of Rowan’s preferred liquors but it would do in a pinch, and it had a kick like whiskey, which is most definitely what Rowan needed right now. They were in a metal boat in space and one look at the library sent his inner academic into a panic and a need to sedate himself before being able to immerse himself into … whatever this was. The future?]

[apapertiger]

[Anger and grumpiness were not two sides of the same coin, in Rowan’s life. He was often grumpy but rarely angry; for him, angry burns cold, dangerous, bitter, and silent. Anger was about betrayal and abandonment by people he trusted, from the first time he had his heart broken and stomped on to when he walked away from his mother when she admitted where their money had come from.

Which is why it was odd that, right now, he was grumpy and angry. He tosses another useless book against the wall with a satisfying thump. If he threw one hard enough, perhaps it would crack as well and lay even more useless in pieces.]

[smilesinmotion]

Well. This is awkward. [Even for him and his life, which included alien spaceships and the ability to walk through the dreamscapes of random people around him and he found it hard to believe that it could be more awkward than that.

Briar walks down the hallway, sandwich forgotten in one hand as he considers his options and situation. Somehow, some way, he had become a she. This was a whole new level of awkward, and an even newer layer of uncomfortable until he found out where the spare clothing was and found himself some suitable underwear. The years of being the one to handle his female siblings’ first forays into womanhood would help with that, he hoped. Having to explain this was going to be yet another layer of awkward.]

[giving35percent]

[Dmitri holds his hands up to his eyes, trying to block out the row of blinding lights at his feet. What the fuck is going on? His first guess would be alien abduction, but hey, that's already happened. As he adjusts to his surroundings, he lowers his hand and scowls. He's on a stage. He's on the Second Heaven stage, actually, and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach.]

Great. Finally got my one man show. [He can see that the house is empty and that where there should be backstage wings, concrete walls close him in.] Fuck it. [Dmitri walks towards the lip of the stage, doing his best to ignore the heat from the lights. The closer he gets to the edge, the worse his stomach feels until finally he can't take another step.]

[giving35percent]

[Suck his dick, Rush! Dmitri is in the music room and has somehow managed to configure three drum kits into one massive set. The sticks in his hand are flying so fast you'd have to have eagle eyes to see which piece he's striking. Smashing the snare, he sends the tumbler he'd balanced on it (full of that sweet, sweet pop) airborne. Dropping one stick, Dmitri snatches the glass mid-flight and downs its contents, not a drop spilled.]

Thank you! [he shouts to no one in particular] Thank you!

[lectorisalutem]

[Shaking a small amount of the yellow powder onto the counter, Gulliver crouches, ignoring the loud crack of his knees. He doesn't entirely trust these salts that everyone else seems to be taking so freely. They look harmless enough, if not a little unnatural, but what little interaction he has had with his fellow passengers has been... strange since the canisters arrived. What he really needs is his hand lens, but he can never remember which pocket he's hidden it in...

With a resolute sigh, the adept licks his finger and presses it into the salt. No one has yet died, he tells himself. And, to be completely honest, he's done much stupider things in the pursuit of knowledge. Gulliver tastes the powder and shudders. Protein of some kind. Vegetable-based, he guesses. Despite his better judgment, he takes another taste.

Then he takes another, this time out of spite. Why should he go without when everyone else is treating their food cache like a banquet?]

[lectorisalutem]

[He should have known better than to drink anything blue. And such a bright shade of blue. He's brought this on himself. His guilt is the only thing keeping Gulliver from turning into a nervous wreck- that and the desire to remain inconspicuous, though he supposes the fact he's no longer able to reach the glass he'd left on the counter helps in that regard.

What appears to be a three and a half foot tall shuffling cowl is moving towards the library, tiny hands poking out of the sleeves to hold up enough of the hood so that Gulliver can see where he's going.]

[likeaplasticbag]

[This is the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to him. Well, maybe not the most humiliating, but it certainly ranks in the top five. And not humiliating because there's something inherently humiliating in being a woman, but... Hyun is jogging through the living quarters as fast as he can, holding one arm over his chest and tugging up his pants with the other. Every few feet, he has to loudly puff the hair from his face.]

Rhea. Rhea. [He's glancing from side to side nervously.] Rhea? [He knocks lightly on the door to their room with his knee. When that doesn't work, he swings a hip into it and bites down on a curse.] Rhea! I need a bra.

...sorry cam (hit him over the head with your wife and you might win)

[likeaplasticbag]

[This protein drink is great. For half a second, Hyun worried about what was in it, but after a glass and a few minutes on the punching bag, he couldn't care less. With each punch he throws, his anger builds until all he can think about is throwing his fist clear through this dumb jerk of a bag.]

[neardowell]

(OOC: i gotta do some thinking about GH-verse owen, so in this thread he's from that LOSTish game we had for about ten minutes. hope that's ok.)

[He's adjusting well to life on the ship, if being in complete denial counts as adjusting. Leaning back on one of the lounge sofas, Owen sips from his tumbler, soothed by the familiar taste but somewhat put off by the color. After first hearing the nonsense that came pouring out of his sister's mouth, he couldn't bear to look at her for more than an instant. The pink whiskey is helping, though.]

I knew your doctors weren't thorough enough. Incompetent American bastards. [Owen nods to himself a half dozen times.] I'll have my assistant find you someone in the morning. Find you a specialist worth paying for.

[neardowell]

[Owen is wandering the halls of the ship, sipping at a brown drink he can only hope is nutritious. It's a bit like being in the Beverly Center, only this place is nearly deserted and the few people he has encountered insist that they're drifting through space.

He enters the game room and beelines for a first-person shooter he's never heard of. If he's suddenly in a Sci-Fi film, he ought to become a proper marksman. Ridiculous.

After a few minutes, his score is already in the millions. Owen doesn't question it, though he hasn't touched a video game in years. He continues to blast virtual flying pigs to bits.]