banjoanjo

OBLIVION

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SARA ZHOU █ act one: way down we go ▸ ritman high ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The keg was set down, and while Jack caught her breath, Sara stood back and did the same more discreetly. While Billy seemed to be the most enthusiastic about her gift, she averted her eyes as to not make eye contact. She waited a bit for everyone to get a chance at the drink before partially filling her own cup. That would be her limit for the night. Her attention was obviously more divided on keeping her profile low and the object in Meir’s hands. Although the get-together had been marked on her calendar for months, she still had no idea what she was going to do when she finally got her time capsule keepsake back. Tear it up? Frame it? The most likely was that she was going to toss it to the back of an old drawer, to be forgotten and unused forever like the rest of Willard’s belongings. She didn’t even get the chance to have it in her hands. Instead there was some old tome – some Necromicon, as Dante put it – and Sara felt her fist clench in her pocket. Another piece of closure whisked away. Stolen from her. Fucking bullshit. She didn’t respond to Mel’s suggestion for Truth and Dare at first, still slowly sipping her half-filled cup with an unreadable expression. Truthfully, there was a low, rumbling annoyance in the pit of her stomach. A lot of people had important memories in there, pleasant or not. Judging by the outer state of the capsule, it looked like the actual insides had been pilfered many years back. What reason did anyone have to steal an old sack of high school junk? “I guess it’s some treasure hunt clue?” Was the first explanation that came to mind. Maybe the book held some dumb, longwinded clue to where the actual time capsule was. It seemed a possible, if contrived, theory until Meir opened to its blank pages. Whatever. At least this would serve as some diversion. Sara couldn’t remember the last time she watched National Treasure, but this was some bullshit. What were they meant to do with this? “… no one here would happen to have a UV light on them, would they?” ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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@Salsa Verde

Sara's time capsule item would be a particularly cursed recipe she 'confiscated' from her brother to lock away, where it would bring no suffering or tortured tastebuds to anyone else in Delton ever again. Or at least until the capsule is opened. It was a 'remix' of something they'd eat for Lunar New Year.

OBLIVION

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SARA & JACK █ act one: way down we go ♫ ▸ Ritman High, Football Field Interacting with @nodogs ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Sara lowkey wished she had some profound, deep feeling to describe as she rolled up to that familiar school building. Nostalgia, longing, regret... anything really. In reality, she was just going through her mental checklist and calculating what magnitude of ass-pain it would be to get the keg to their chosen viewing area. There was a fresh sleeve of plastic cups in the boot, first aid kit in the glove box, swiss army knife in her pocket. That should be it, right? The nagging feeling of something being forgotten pulled the corners of her lips downwards. Goddammit, that was going to bother her all night. "You guys can head up first," Sara said, slamming the door shut once she'd parked by the shoddy demolition fence. "Gotta haul the catering, so to speak." On the topic of drinks though. It was still a two person job outside of PJ's. Sara looked to Jack expectantly, hoping she'd get the hint. Jack rolled her neck, letting the cool air brush over the alcohol-induced flush in her cheeks. This shit was finally happening, all close calls with awkward ex-girlfriends aside. Everybody else was meandering off to the field where the rest of those who RSVP'd hopefully were, which left just her and Sara. Who was looking at her. "Oh, shit. The— yeah," she sighed, finally putting a name to the thing she'd forgotten: Sara's keg of beer, that her arms were still sore from hauling back at PJ's. Shit, she really shouldn't have done a shift today. "Okay, fuck, let's do this." Staring out at the expanse they had to cross, she suddenly felt all sobered up, so at least there'd be a solution to that problem by the end of it. Sara raised an eyebrow and, with Jack's help, started hefting it out. She locked the car and grabbed the cups too. "Not tired already, are you?" Jack huffed weakly, readjusting her grip slightly. "Not at all," she said unconvincingly, voice pitching up. "Y'know, just, exceeding my daily limit of keg carrying." She blew air out through her cheeks, looking around. "It's actually warmer out here than it is in the back at work." "Ah, yeah." She wanted to say that Willard often had his complaints about the walk-in. "Uhhh. How's Don anyway?" she asked instead. "He's been mentioning shit like community college ever since I organized this thing. I think he misses me being in high school." Jack shrugged. "It's not like I was the one who decided to bulldoze Ritman." "If he wants you out of the house during the day, I'm sure I can put in a good word with the manager of the General Store," Sara smirked. "Is he why this whole get together is happening?" "Oh, no way." Jack snorted. "This is all my thing. Figured it would be kinda awkward if there wasn't a building left for the ten year reunion or whatever." She rolled her neck, grimacing at the keg. "But I don't think there's gonna be a me left when we're done hauling this." Sara simply regarded her with an almost triumphant look. "Character building. I'm sure Don would be all for it if he saw." "I think if he saw me actually doing work he might start floating to heaven on the spot." "So it's not just your employment status on the line but his whole life, damn." She shook her head and paused where she was. They were right outside the field. She could even see the rest of the group now, a handful of faces reminding her of unfinished sentiments and muted regrets. "Welp." She exhaled. "You ready then? No blood grudges I gotta know about before we head in?" Jack seemed to genuinely consider it for a moment, peering out at the group. There were a few faces she didn't entirely recognize, and none particularly striking out from the crowd, besides from those that had been at P.J.'s. Seemed safe enough. "Nah, I'm Mr Popular." She heard her phone chime in her pocket, almost making the motion to check it before remembering the heavy part of heavy lifting. "Speaking of." She nodded in her pocket's general direction. "Let's get this shit in there." A moment's consideration. Better late than never, right? "Alright," Sara nodded, "Game face on." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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At what point of their high school career would they have put their item in the time capsule? Start of senior year?

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<Snipped quote by Salsa Verde>

yesboss

moving to uni today but i can probably do a lil back and forth whenever you are ready @banjoanjo

@nodogs

Yep, I'd be up for that! You can start in DMs if you want

OBLIVION

<Snipped quote by banjoanjo>

definitely but in like a cool casual way yknow like yeah sure you can drive me no biggie i guess

@nodogs

For convenience we can probably say Sara chauffeured the whole PJ's group (and subsequently also forgot the time capsule)

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@Gisk

In the last RP, Sara was volunteering to drive peeps from the bar. Was actually gonna ask if Jack would have taken Sara's offer too. @nodogs

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Sara Zhou

█ SARA ZHOU

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▼ PERSONAL DETAILS ► Age - Twenty-five ► Gender - Female ► Sexuality - Asexual (Homo-romantic) ► Nickname - Z ► Occupation - Assistant Manager at Delton General, seasonal event planner ► Qualifications - Barista certification, First Aid Training including defibrillation, half an online Bachelor of Commerce, kinda good at brewing beer? ► Residence - Delton, Maine ▼ PHYSICALITY ► Scars - Miniscule, almost invisible, scars littering her fingers. She was not dexterous in high school, but that never deterred her brother from constantly dragging her into the kitchen for help. ► Tattoos - Sprigs of Diphylleia Grayi crawling up her calf from her ankle. ► Piercings - Five in each ear. ► Style - T-shirts and loose button ups, almost always flannel. Practicality is the vibe here, as Sara doesn't do anything purely for aesthetic's sake. Her hair, though straight and clean, has lacked maintenance since high school and falls to the halfway point of her back at its fullest length. It is usually tied up in a messy but charming ponytail. Wears light makeup to work, only because she has a job to keep. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

LIFE AT RITMAN They were never meant to stay here. Thank god it was Delton though, there are plenty worse places to get financially stranded. They were one family out of the thousands of classic immigrant stories, arriving with nothing but their luggage and barely applicable Chinglish. A father and a mother, a daughter and a son. The town received them generously but that wasn't grounds for getting complacent. The Zhous worked themselves to the bone as repayment. Surely they expected their children to do the same. There was... some adjustment to be done. Sara, bright as she was, sure as hell wasn't spectacular, not in the way that would get her into an Ivy League school. Not the way she knew her parents secretly wished, as stubbornly mute as they were about their children's future. But Sara was a Zhou through and through, and she was determined to prove it. High school was an academic breeze and Sara rode high on the winds. She had a reputation for knowing everything and everyone. Science decathlon, student council, soccer team. People respected her because of her work ethic but they liked her because she was a reliable friend. Very reliable, almost worryingly so. Of course, being a high school, there were some detractors. Rumors of her being a secret lesbian, citing her laissez-faire fashion sense and apparent lack of romantic interest in boys. Calling her a narc, a goody-two shoes. Man, she was totally overloading. How does she cram all the shit she has to do in a single week? She was gonna burn out so hard. They were wrong. The fire never flickered. It was extinguished. It was a senseless, excruciating thing. Her father always insisted on providing their driving lessons himself, to cut down the costs. Her brother had been the one at the wheel. Willard never forgave himself, skipping town four months afterwards in a car bought with his own money. Couldn't use the one he totalled on the highway. They were only halfway through the school year then. There was no moral. No lesson to be taken from this. Sara graduated, numb as frostbite. Exemplary grades, outstanding extracurriculars. And for what? She returned to Delton after a single semester of college and hasn't set foot outside ever since. PSYCHE Sara is an emotional pragmatist. The Consul (ESFJ) archetype. A confident speaker, cool under pressure, dry of wit, the rock amongst her many, many, fr-- ...acquaintances. Need an extra planner for the fair? Need a substitute for your volleyball team? Need someone to move all the orchestra equipment? Sara was up for the job. Not only that, she'd do it pretty damn well. There was an unnatural level of perseverance in every action she took, topped off with a grit smirk as she conquered everything in her path. Seven years since graduation, Sara has remained sturdy as ever, albeit with a more noticeable sense of brusqueness. It became apparent the more distant she got from her old social circle. It wasn't loyalty to her colleagues. It was loyalty to a job well done. Her investment in others is questionable, as if their problems are mere checkboxes on a to-do list rather than something she wants to help with out of genuine concern. There's a peculiar engrossment she finds in other people. She doesn't always want to 'help', in the traditional sense. Sara sees the path to victory, to the completion of a task, and she gets it done. Whether this makes her come off as scheming, or even manipulative, means little to her. "Little factoid about sharks. If they stop moving, they die." Beyond it all, in the quieter moments when there's nothing she can keep herself busy with, it flakes away. She flinches when cars go too fast past the crossings. She pales at the sight of any blood. She wrings her hands as she stares into space, lips pressed into a vacant frown. It's dangerous to be alone with her thoughts. Some time P.J's usually does the trick. Something to plug the leak for a few hours. Every night she numbs her brain. And every morning, she wakes with a grimace. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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POWER Short range time manipulation. Pretty straightforward stuff. By making physical contact with a target, organic or non-organic, she can ramp up the passage of time affecting it. Her maximum output currently sits around ten years per minute. Both hands must be used for this. Sara cannot de-age a target, nor can she use her ability on herself. There are severe consequences if she uses her ability too much in a short amount of time, sensations akin to sparks and spasms running up her arms until she can no longer move them at all. Thankfully, this cooldown period is temporary, but with every occurrence of this seeming longer than the last, Sara is unsure if she wants to keep testing her limits. When her ability is in use, glowing, golden circuit lines trace their way up her arms from her hands. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

- ▼ STRENGTHS ► Restoratively, her power can be paired with her first aid knowledge to essentially amount to an insta-fix, provided the procedure is done right. ► Destructively, she has even more potential than her restorative applications. Converting milennia into a wall to completely erode it. Aging an organic being, paralysing them, forcing their cells to simultaneously decay and regenerate, until they finally turn to dust. Likely much more, if she dares to put her mind to it. ▼ WEAKNESSES ► Range, in that her power has none. ► Overuse during too short of a timespan can result in her arms ending up completely paralysed. This cooldown period can last from hours to days, depending on the degree of excessive usage. ► Because Sara cannot de-age her targets (yet), her effects are permanent. ► Still has her normal, human weaknesses. Her power does not work on herself. ► The specificity of the ability can also be its handicap. Its application is limited to Sara's improvisational capacity. ► A significant mental and emotional block is in place when it comes to using her ability on living beings. The potential consequences are too serious to play around with this sort of stuff. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

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Can players from the previous thread post straight to the CHAR tab? @Salsa Verde

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Let's gooo