consentacle fun, etc.
The following prompts can be BYOM (bring your own monster) if you so desire! Anything goes. Literally anything.
"Monsters" are common around here. They always have been. While many societies choose to revere them as gods or use them to instill fear into ill-behaved children, the monsters of New Cloudbank are one with the people and have been able to hold jobs, own property and self, and vote; freedoms gained from a civil movement some decades ago. While societal integration has gone somewhat smoothly, there is some resistance held by conservative individuals that look down on monster-human relations and hold the untrue belief that some of the less humanshape monsters are a threat to people.
Boxer is an example of one such creature. His upper body is proportionally larger than any human; that if he stood on human legs he would easily reach thirteen feet tall, cut like someone who exercises on a needlessly regular schedule. However, he does not stand on human legs at all, but rather a numerous set of tentacles, rich cocoa-brown like the rest of his skin, decorated with stark yellow stripes at their base and a line of dots along their topsides, lined with dark golden suction cups on the opposite side, and delicate membranes between them. His yellow accents, including his eyes, glow under dark enough conditions to see them.
He's never harmed a human in his life, much rather the opposite if anything, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation for it...
Errands.
A monster's gotta eat.
Of course, he doesn't have to drop by for meat, as the only thing he puts on his table are things he caught with his own hands swimming in the depths outside of the bay. But frying fish in its own juices does not a meal plan make, so regular supermarket trips are the solution to well-rounded meals.
But he can't quite get around like everyone else, on account of boneless tentacles being designed more for underwater agility than, well, walking. So he has to opt for a wheelchair, one custom-built to accommodate his bulk and allows him to comfortably use his extra appendages for his wheel-based mobility while keeping his hands free.
Although being just shy of wheelchair-bound on land, he's at less disadvantage than one might think, using his long tentacles to snatch things off of the topmost shelf with length to spare. Otherwise, he tries to keep them hidden under a soft, knitted blanket, for the comfort of strangers, who tend to stare anyway. (Oh well.) He likes to joke that it's not his form, but the fact that he chooses to dress somewhat formally even for his mundane outings, even though he knows that's not the case.
Maybe you're the one struggling to reach that favorite item of yours so conveniently stashed just beyond finger's grasp on the top shelf.
"Here. I'll get that for you," he says, with an easy smile.
Bet you weren't prepared for a tentacle to hand you something when you went out today.
Shore.
This quiet little section of the beach is usually deserted, rumored to be the place where feral monsters hunt for humans. Now this, this is a rumor that is entirely Boxer's fault, purposely spread to his few visitors so he could have this little piece of heaven all to himself.
Maybe you're a regular here. Maybe you're a brave new first-time visitor, hopefully to catch sight of the man-eating monster for yourself. Either way, the sight is hardly as intimidating as the legend: he's sprawled out naked on the warm sand, basking in the sunlight that beats against his bare, chiseled back as he naps.
Scary.
Water.
New Cloudbank is a large city-state with bustling seaside commerce, full of fishery companies, international trade, and tourism. A water-dweller like Boxer is almost never without work, since many companies are chomping at the bit to commission an strong, amphibious monster to survey the deep for the next best catch, keeping the water safe, or mounting rescues for wayward tourists.
He loves what he does for a living.
Maybe you, too, are of similar business, using your nonhuman physiology to your advantage in the outer bay waters, catching Boxer in the middle of what he does best. Or maybe you're simply a patron of these companies--for Boxer, as brazen as he is to get a free drink, will gladly suction-cup climb his way into boats and schmooze with locals and tourists alike.
Wildcard!

"Monsters" are common around here. They always have been. While many societies choose to revere them as gods or use them to instill fear into ill-behaved children, the monsters of New Cloudbank are one with the people and have been able to hold jobs, own property and self, and vote; freedoms gained from a civil movement some decades ago. While societal integration has gone somewhat smoothly, there is some resistance held by conservative individuals that look down on monster-human relations and hold the untrue belief that some of the less humanshape monsters are a threat to people.
Boxer is an example of one such creature. His upper body is proportionally larger than any human; that if he stood on human legs he would easily reach thirteen feet tall, cut like someone who exercises on a needlessly regular schedule. However, he does not stand on human legs at all, but rather a numerous set of tentacles, rich cocoa-brown like the rest of his skin, decorated with stark yellow stripes at their base and a line of dots along their topsides, lined with dark golden suction cups on the opposite side, and delicate membranes between them. His yellow accents, including his eyes, glow under dark enough conditions to see them.
He's never harmed a human in his life, much rather the opposite if anything, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation for it...
Errands.
A monster's gotta eat.
Of course, he doesn't have to drop by for meat, as the only thing he puts on his table are things he caught with his own hands swimming in the depths outside of the bay. But frying fish in its own juices does not a meal plan make, so regular supermarket trips are the solution to well-rounded meals.
But he can't quite get around like everyone else, on account of boneless tentacles being designed more for underwater agility than, well, walking. So he has to opt for a wheelchair, one custom-built to accommodate his bulk and allows him to comfortably use his extra appendages for his wheel-based mobility while keeping his hands free.
Although being just shy of wheelchair-bound on land, he's at less disadvantage than one might think, using his long tentacles to snatch things off of the topmost shelf with length to spare. Otherwise, he tries to keep them hidden under a soft, knitted blanket, for the comfort of strangers, who tend to stare anyway. (Oh well.) He likes to joke that it's not his form, but the fact that he chooses to dress somewhat formally even for his mundane outings, even though he knows that's not the case.
Maybe you're the one struggling to reach that favorite item of yours so conveniently stashed just beyond finger's grasp on the top shelf.
"Here. I'll get that for you," he says, with an easy smile.
Bet you weren't prepared for a tentacle to hand you something when you went out today.
Shore.
This quiet little section of the beach is usually deserted, rumored to be the place where feral monsters hunt for humans. Now this, this is a rumor that is entirely Boxer's fault, purposely spread to his few visitors so he could have this little piece of heaven all to himself.
Maybe you're a regular here. Maybe you're a brave new first-time visitor, hopefully to catch sight of the man-eating monster for yourself. Either way, the sight is hardly as intimidating as the legend: he's sprawled out naked on the warm sand, basking in the sunlight that beats against his bare, chiseled back as he naps.
Scary.
Water.
New Cloudbank is a large city-state with bustling seaside commerce, full of fishery companies, international trade, and tourism. A water-dweller like Boxer is almost never without work, since many companies are chomping at the bit to commission an strong, amphibious monster to survey the deep for the next best catch, keeping the water safe, or mounting rescues for wayward tourists.
He loves what he does for a living.
Maybe you, too, are of similar business, using your nonhuman physiology to your advantage in the outer bay waters, catching Boxer in the middle of what he does best. Or maybe you're simply a patron of these companies--for Boxer, as brazen as he is to get a free drink, will gladly suction-cup climb his way into boats and schmooze with locals and tourists alike.
Wildcard!

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[Lena is also incredibly aware of her friends sex toy collection, so it'd actually be a fair response.] If anything, she'd give me a whole lecture about 'being careful with yourself' and 'take things slowly', that kind of thing.
[Easy to tell which one of them is the more cautious one, right?] She's a really great woman, intelligent, creative, ambitious, beautiful, and talented. She's just, y'know, a little rigid about certain things! She doesn't get that business is playing it all up to the right people at the right time, and making compromises where necessary. You give her the science and engineering stuff? She's fine. Ask her to deal with other people and social situations? It's like taking a poor goldfish out of its bowl.
[So it's no wonder that Nariko is usually the mouthpiece, after all she's relatively charming, far more confident, and people oriented.]
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[He finishes his meat, finally, and sits back with a cup of cole slaw.]
I mean, if she's fine with doing the OVC stuff, that's cool. I don't really use the things myself all that much...
[Wow. That's a pretty big thing to admit.]
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[Granted, it's not as if Nariko's in love with them or whatever but she probably hasn't gone a week without using one or three.]
I mean, I guess it makes sense since you're in the water most of the time.
[ .... Nah, it's still kind of odd.]
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[OVCs are a lot more than just articles, Boxer.]
I mean, as far as the voting, it's...
[He pauses to think about how he wants to explain it.]
I like the surprise--not knowing what's gonna come next. Don't like being just a number in a poll...having to adapt to the unexpected is what I enjoy.
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[He get's a Look. He's allowed his opinion but goodness is it a strange one. But it's a good thing they disagree on something, it'd be creepy if they felt the same about every little thing.]
You're a complex dude, aren't you.
[Wanting to adapt to the situation as it unfolds, but he's still concerned with who is in even a small fraction of the government.]
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You think so?
[He thought their first date would be this weekend, but it feels like this a date too...]
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Mmhm. But it's nice.
[He's definitely got a weird opinion but she won't fault him for it by any means since he seems perfectly reasonable, otherwise. Before she can say anything a yawn creeps out of her mouth, and she makes sure to cover her mouth.] Oh, man. [On to the final destination:] I'm sorry, I think I'm done for the night.
[It's funny how once her body registered that it had been fed the exhaustion came on instantly. Better to say something than accidentally slam her face into rib bones, which she will at least help clean up before she falls asleep on his carpet or something.]
no subject
Oh, yeah, the bedroom's already set up. Let me show you.
[He puts down his cole slaw and rolls himself out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom.
Now this is where the real cool stuff is.
It's humid but comfortably cool in here, and definitely the source of that clean, oceany smell that permeates the whole apartment. It's pretty dim in here too, the darkness overcome by a calming blue glow coming from what lies in the center of the room: a giant 5,000 gallon tank that is wider than it is tall, illuminated from the bottom, full of the standard aquarium goodies: a few colorful fish, a rocky bottom furnished with well-kept plantlife, and a few columns of tiny bubbles.
Beside the tank is a bed, level with the bottom of the tank. It's just a twin sized mattress, but it has really fluffy sheets and plenty of pillows. Despite clearly not meant for Boxer, he didn't skip any expenses on the elegantly carved bedframe and well-made sheets--there's even a little control panel for bed firmness.
Welcome to Boxer's bedroom, Nariko.]
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[That is a huge tank. Are those real fish in there or are they little plastic ones ... If they're real do they have names? She'll name them.] I should have expected something like this and yet here we are and this is so cool! It's like being in the ocean! Or a human's approximation of being in the ocean!
[She crawls on the bed for the sole excuse to look in the tank a bit, and then she leans back, could she hop up to the top or is too far? Probably too far, especially when taking into account how short she is.]
I don't mean to be rude but how did you get all of this in here?
[How did he get any of it at all?]
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Yeah, that's the idea. Makes it easier for me to sleep.
[From on top of the bed, she can. It's only about four feet higher than the edge of the bed.]
I had it commissioned, actually. All of it. I used to sleep out in the water in a hammock made out of fishing net, strung out from the bottom of the balcony. Eventually I realized it was kind of dumb to have an apartment and not actually sleep in it.
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[He's pretty much a creature that is literally made for the ocean, after all. She falls back on the bed, laying out on it for a second. Man, this is really comfy. She should ask why he has an apartment at all (somewhere to get his mail?) but god, she's tired. Really, incredibly tired.]
This is nice. I like your room.
[She thought the light in the tank might bother her since she can't generally sleep in a room that has any light at all, but it's not that bad if she turns her back to it for the sake of getting to the unconscious state.]
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[Hopefully that answers the question she was too tired to ask. In the meantime, he's gonna go to the bathroom to fix himself up for the night.]
You good? I'll be right back.
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[It does! But right now she's pretty happy to crawl under the sheets and get herself settled. She doesn't have any issue making the space her own. She's gonna have to ask him about these sheets later on, they might be better than the ones she's got back at home!
What's he doing in there? Who knows. If he's gone too long she'll probably edge closer to being knocked out than not.]
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Hopefully seeing a hole in his throat open and close with his "breaths" isn't going to squick her out.]
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[Not just for choking! She might have actually been incredibly alarmed and freaked out by that, but she's super fucking tired so all that's left is a weird, lingering sense of unease. She twists her body towards the tank and waves at it.]
Niiight! [Can he ever hear her? Who knows, have a sleepy smile, Boxer.]
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Good night, sleep well.
[As he sinks and lays down at the bottom of his tank, he reaches over to a control panel and dims the blue lights just enough to be a sufficient night light if a certain someone needs to use the bathroom.]
The end of chapter 1??
Tonight she gets to relax, just like she wanted, and it's perfect.]