//SCENARIOS.EXE
PHASE I [ 19 00 ]
The festival begins promptly with a kick-off speech and a toast from Julius Vincere, encouraging everyone to celebrate beneath the two moons as they light the sky. The weather is crisp and beautiful, leaving them both in full view as their light cascades upon the festival. Around the district, there are several stands full of standard fair food (candy apples/corn dogs/ice cream/deep fried everything), games, and an assortment of many awkward prizes (if you're wondering what these are, do remember you're in the Pleasure District!). Also, there is alcohol everywhere, served to minors and adults alike.
PHASE II [ 1945 ]
The music is playing loudly beneath the noises of the festival. Anyone approaching the speakers will notice a strange buzzing noise that keeps wavering. Then, the sound changes abruptly to the sound of pained moaning hidden within the song. It grows more pronounced by the second until the lights in the Pleasure District flicker off for a brief second. When they return, there is someone crawling out of the speaker. Your eyes squint, and you can see them briefly, the faint outlines of their form as their screaming escalates, only everyone else seems to be deaf to it. Only you can hear it, and you wonder how and why no one else is reacting. Is it just you? Are you hallucinating? Better get used to that feeling in Cerealia.
PHASE III [ 2000 ]
Your friendly speaker friend up there doesn't seem to want to go away. (S)he keeps crawling out and disappearing throughout the evening, but it's easier to ignore as Julius takes to the stage. He has a special announcement for all. CERESdate (who sponsored this wonderful festival by the way) has agreed to set up all you vibrant, sexy Cerealia singles with some robot partners for the night. Want to escape? Too late. They're latching on and dragging you out to the dance floor to boogie down. Afterwards, they'll try and drag you to the nearby hotels for some extra loving. You are welcome to run at this point or comply happily.
PHASE IV [ 2103 ]
Have you escaped the overzealous sex robots? Good, good! Now, it's time for the real fun. The holograms turn from PG images of the stars and surrounding moons and planets to a few fun images of various robot couples caught in absolute bliss. You may spot a clown mask in there or two, reminiscent of those who were running around causing a bit of trouble earlier. The images continue to get distorted as the clowns look like they're stretching their necks out of the image and reaching out towards you. The moaning from before returns.
Doesn't it get you in the mood? If it does and you'd like to find a partner for the night, a few CERESdate robots will be on hand to help fix you up with a partner, organic or otherwise. They're being quite insistent again because they want your credits.
BONUS [ whyo'clock ]
Have you ever been stalked by a condom-dispensing machine? Well, there's a first time for everything! These friendly contraptions are set up all over the Pleasure District, waiting for you to pass by before trailing after you very slowly. At first you don't notice. Every time you turn around, it stands stationery. But the moment you start to move, it just carefully rolls behind you. Watching. Waiting.
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with trigger-y or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the meme. ]
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but before russia can exhale petulantly all over america's obnoxious face, he's already walking away. it wouldn't do to strangle him with all these witnesses, which is unfortunate, so it's back to business as usual. he falls back into step and sighs, almost wistfully. ]
Да, around the same time you started gaining weight. Do you really need another candy apple, America?
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he's just going to glare at him and wag the apple in his face as they walk to prove his point. his point which is: ]
It's part fruit, you ass. Gettin' all up in my vitamin, uh. Wait, shit, which vitamin were apples again?
[ this guy knows the word impetus but forgets what fruits have which vitamins, okay then. ]
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C. Like an orange. [ and batting america's hand away from his face: ] You know what an orange is, yes? And your fruit is covered in toffee. That does not count.
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Really? It's not even like, orange. Where does the C come from?
[ gonna bite his apple again, fine. ]
Shut up, I need it for my low blood sugar. Don't make fun.
[ fucking bullshit but whatever. ]
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Is that so? I was certain your blood was sugar.
[ but even if you were diabetic, it's not like he'd be surprised. but you aren't. oh look, alcohol!
he's just going to peel off for a moment to buy a cup of... something that vaguely resembles vodka from one of the nearby vendors. even if america doesn't follow him, russia's back by his side in a moment, like a particularly cheerful, overbearing limpet. ah, much better. ]
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Aw, are you callin' me sweet, big guy? You shouldn't! [ and then his face drops like a meteor ] Like, no. You really shouldn't. It's disgusting. You're disgusting.
[ and then back to eating his apple. he'll weirdly enough, keep walking alongside russia even when he goes to get the booze and then when they go back to walking along the fair. it is pretty creepy and if you asked america, he would agree with the limpet analogy. a lot.
that said, this doesn't stop him from... casually sniffing at russia's drink and making a face. ]
Jesus, what is that? A hundred proof?
[ oh well, he is just going to casually snatch that cup out of russia's hand to take a sip and then politely put it back in his hand. you're welcome.
also do you really need booze to hang out with america? do you? so rude. ]
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Disgusting, Америка? [ SPECIAL PRONUNCIATION, JUST FOR YOU. ] That's not very nice.
[ he's kind of enjoying the theatrics, though.
when america takes (and returns) his drink, his smile doesn't falter, but he does slowly rotate the cup so the place where america's lips touched is now facing away from him. then he drinks. ]
Hmm? It's very mild to me.
[ look russia not everyone can drink vodka like it's water okay ]
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also don't say his name like that, with your dirty ex-commie mouth. like, gross. so, sarcastically: ]
Oh, I'm sorry. I'll make sure to share my crayons next time.
[ ugh, you're such a jerk. you're a jerk with high alcohol tolerance who really should just be taken out back and shot. wait, lbr you totally were at least once. ]
Yeah, but that's because you're like a... fuck, what's it called-- Bear. A fuckin' bear with all that fat, alcohol wouldn't even slow you down for a second.
[ he shrugs and true story: already burning off the alcohol from the one sip of alien booze he drank. hell yeah. ]
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also wow??? wow. at least when he was taken out back behind the shed he didn't cry like a capitalist little bitch. ]
Да, that is my national animal.
[ is america trying to insult him by complimenting him? is that how this is going to work? ]
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shut up, he sucked it up and asked for a cigarette like a real man. ]
Wait, what? For real? Since when, dude?
[ america did you legitimately not know his national animal was a bear, where have you been these last 500 years ]
Whatever, you're still ridic as fuck.
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Since the 16th century.
[ literally looking at america like he's the dumbest in the world. do you not even remember your cold war smear campaigns using bears. fucking everywhere bears. ]
And you are still as stupid as ever. [ drink. ] But I suppose it is comforting to know some things will never change.
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Huh. That's news to me.
[ if there is a bear. ]
Hey! That is uncalled for and unprecedented! But whatever, jerk. I guess if you wanting to believe I'm "stupid" makes you less butthurt about our world probably not even being a thing anymore, go ahead.
[ jfc america ]
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the atmosphere suddenly plummets into the icy miserable depths. random passers-by start edging away. russia's fingers slowly and inexorably start to squeeze the cup in his hands. he's so butthurt. ]
I think you are stupid regardless of the condition of our world.
[ how does he still manage to sound lighthearted? how??? it is a mystery. ]
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is it supposed to be cold in here? america's still running pretty hot, ngl. maybe he has a fever. ]
Yeah, well. I could say the same for you and being a pervert. Which you are, you know. A pervert.
[ :'D
hey is that cotton candy ]
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[ how even did you get there from... wherever you got there from?
no, he is genuinely confused about this. still butthurt, but now with a glacial sliver of incomprehension. ]
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Well, yeah. No matter how the world is, you will always be a creepy guy who takes like, dick pics of glory holes. That kind of guy. Don't you know this? Geez.
[ oh my god they have bubblegum flavor cotton candy, hallelujah ]
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I do not take... dick pics.
[ actually sounding a little affronted at this tbh. ]
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Oh, dude. Are you kidding me? You totally take dick pics. Don't even front, you're with friends here.
[ truly cultured discourse. ]
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But I don't.
[ . . . ]
Do you?
[ it's this or communism jokes so ]
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... ]
Haha, whaaaat. Bro, I'm not the pervert here.
[ he takes dick pics and doesn't send them to anyone because he has no friends ]
When someone thinks of fucking, like, "dudes who sit around staring at people and prolly popping boners from it" they don't like of The United Sates of America. They think of the fucking Russian Federation, like. Yo.
[ strong arguments on this end. counter that, russia. ]
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Нет.
[ and a strong rejoinder from the russian federation! ]
Are you sure you're not describing France?
[ or maybe 80% of the entire male population of earth regardless of nationality? ]
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wait, maybe some burn for that ice? hahahahaha. get it. ]
I--
[ . . . ]
Okay, maybe a tiny bit but you still wear a trench coat which totally proves my point!
[ this is also true. still, old man pervert. ]
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[ not that he doesn't wear trench coats, but details. ]
What point? Do you think everyone who wears a coat is a pervert?
[ and continuing tonight's theme of patronizing confusion! why trench coats? he doesn't get it. ]
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[ america, don't be obtuse. it is obviously not a trench coat because it's being worn by russia. all he wears is old man grandpa sweaters. ]
A trench coat, you jerk. Haven't you ever watched To Catch A Predator? Or, or, or. I don't know, anything with old men who go to playgrounds to watch kids. Always a trench coat, dude.
[ you're such a fucker, you totally know what he's talking about.
anyway, eating a piece of cotton candy and then absentmindedly holding it out for russia to have some too. he's a nice guy like that. ]
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Spies wear trench coats too. By that logic, all spies would then be pedophiles.
[ wow, they're really having this conversation.
oh, cotton candy! for him? that's the first nice thing you've done all day, america!
russia plucks a tuft of it and puts it in his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue. sickeningly sweet. it reminds him of the circus. he misses the circus. do they have circuses here? they must have...
luckily, the taste manages to help counteract another mood swing, and russia finishes the rest of whatever's in the now-crinkled cup. ]
Or in your... ah, film noir.
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