THE SKY WENT OFF-WHITE.

[wastemods]

WHO: Anyone and everyone.
WHAT: Our inaugural test drive meme.
WHERE: Anywhere in the world core.
WHEN: Whenever your character arrives.
NOTES: Expect surreal horror and possible violence. Please use common sense when warning for other content.

Art by Basile Godard

THE SUNLIGHT SPLINTERED.

You reach the end of the ash-gray hall at a run, hands fumbling for an antique door handle. And then you stumble, fall, tumble—any number of adjectives, depending on where, exactly, the door opened—into a radio station.

The equipment is old and dusty, but devoid of cobwebs to the observant eye. And it's dark, save for whatever light makes it through the windows. They display disjointed locations; perhaps one shows an upside-down tower, while its neighbors frame the crumbling pavement of a rotting car park and the stripped out interior of a sewer. Whatever the case, peering through one window reveals a landscape that impossibly doesn't connect to the next.

The door is still there, the only exit to this grubby room. It opens somewhere, anywhere else in this distorted world. And once you leave, it no longer leads back whence you came.

Where do you go?

THE LIGHT, DIVIDED.

A sun on one horizon, a full moon on the other. They're luminous but unreal, like they were plucked from a sky and pasted to a flat, starless backdrop. You can see only one, depending on which side you entered; it's essentially random. Both "sides" overlap like alternate dimensions and you can't see anyone who isn't on the same side as you. Light or dark, you walk in the light of a muted sun or an overbright moon. It never feels quite real.

Neither star nor satellite seem to move from their position. The passage of time is at a standstill.

Regardless of which side you're on, you'll find signs that you aren't alone. What someone does on one side affects the other, so moving an item or writing something down will translate to floating items and mysteriously appearing letters. Speech doesn't travel...unless there's a radio. Radios may turn on and off, with voices audible through the white noise. And if you walk past a mirror, the reflection isn't your own. Instead, it acts as a window to the other side.

In-character observations:

• Anyone sensitive to time, space, and related dimensional shenanigans will feel they're distorted. And it isn't something they can fix, at least not with powers.
• It's possible to cross dimensions if a character has related powers, but they'll suffer backlash and significant stress from the transition. Successive jumps aren't gonna fly.
• If a character is affected by the sun or moon, they'll find neither holds sway over them here; e.g., vampires can walk in daylight and werewolves won't shift in the full moon.

TL;DR: Whatever this is, it isn't natural.

THE SHADOW REALM.

Outdoors, there are shadows on the prowl.

Silent and eerily insubstantial, they trail after you like blind spots given form. Staring at them too long is unsettling but, for the most part, they're content to watch you back...if they can watch. They don't seem to have eyes.

When that isn't enough, however, they attack. Stealing the shape of monsters from other worlds, they may lack special powers, but that doesn't keep them from being dangerous. When in doubt, you're safest indoors.

But maybe that isn't good enough for you. Or maybe you just fucked up. Either/or.

RADIO WAVES.

If you aren't wondering how you got here, you're probably at least asking why. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be anyone around who can answer your questions. Everyone else is as clueless as you.

But, some time after you arrive—whether it's days, hours, minutes, or seconds—the dead air stirs. The atmospheric pressure drops and playhouse lightning arcs across the facsimile of a sky. It's a storm that warns of what's to come, as an earthquake shifts the ground beneath your feet. Around you, buildings flood, and water pours out in falls only half aware of gravity. Wind hurls debris at such high speeds, it turns into shrapnel. Rain pelts you from above and below as the temperature plummets. It starts to snow.

Somehow, the sun and moon remain visible through the turmoil. A collection of mirrors scattered through the world don't reflect their light; instead, it passes through them and illuminates the other side. These specific mirrors, all set in ash-gray frames that match the halls, are untouched in the unfolding natural disasters, and standing before them will shield you as well. Consider them havens in the chaos, proverbial eyes in the storm.

In the dark, a radio turns on of its own accord. Is someone—something—talking to you?

INTO ALL OUR DARKEST FEARS.

Welcome to THE WASTEYARD's first test drive! Some quick things to remember:

• Our TDMs tie into the game plot. As such, any applicants can keep their TDM threads as game canon.
• The network is exclusive to in-game characters. TDM characters can only use radios.
• There is a language barrier, so please mention what language your character speaks somewhere.
• We don't have a fixed day ratio; instead, you pace yourself at your discretion.
• Characters may face backlash when using any powers.
• Mark if your character is on the sun or moon side of the divide. The choice is yours as the player.
• If you have any questions, please direct them to our FAQ!

And that's all, folks. So take chances, make mistakes, and get messy!

NAVIGATION.

PREMISE
RULES
FAQ
ACTIVITY
APPLICATIONS

TAKEN
HIATUSES & DROPS
CANON UPDATES
REWARDS
TPC CLAIMS

WORLD
EXPLORATION
DEVICES
QUESTS
INFORMATION

CALENDAR
SUGGESTIONS
MOD CONTACT
SETTING INBOX
CODEBOOK

Comments

[rpms]

[ She was expecting a thud. That's what usually happens but this time it doesn't. A hole opens up or maybe her head has melted into the wall. ]

What the hell [ , she breathes out. A quick relief washes over her when she can turn enough to see a hole. Raven squints and peers inside. ]

[wastor]

[The hole seems to go on forever. There's a darkness there, unending and pitch black.]

[A slight scraping noise seems to echo from deep within it, and the feeling of being watched back is hard to ignore.]

[rpms]

[ If the darkness isn't unnerving enough, it's the sound that permeates from the darkness and a chill climbs down her spine.

Part of her wants to see if she can make the hole bigger somehow, the other half has her leaning away from the hole. An idea pops in her mind, a flickering lightbulb and she fishes out an empty can from her backpack.

Without hesitation, Raven chucks it into the hole. ]

[wastor]

[As soon as the flashlight leaves Raven's hand, it's as if gravity turns downward on it, and it spins into the hole as though Raven is looking down at it, not sideways in a wall. Its light disappears quickly, and there's no sound to indicate it ever hitting bottom.

The scratching sound, however, increases its pace.]

[rpms]

[ This place is just a bag of surprises, isn't it? For a moment, Raven is mesmerized by how gravity has shifted. Instead of it soaring through the hole, she stares at it floating.

It reminds her of g-zero gravity.

Reminds her of being a g-zero mechanic. Youngest one in fifty-two years. But who's counting beside Raven herself.

The scratching reels her out of her thoughts, has her shooting up to stand. Raven takes the backpack by the loop at the top and dashes down the hallway. Her strides are hitched, the brace on her leg makes for no smooth running.

The pain is there, drilling into her hip. She grits her teeth and rushes down the hall. ] You ain't getting me today.

[wastor]

[The sound of scratching follows her. As Raven goes, she'll notice it's no longer coming from the walls. Every radio she passes, every staticky television, they all broadcast that telltale scratch in perfect unison.

This is about when all the phones start ringing.

What phones? Where? All of them. Everywhere.]

[rpms]

[ The scratching, it's burrowing deep in her head. And the more she seems to run, the louder it gets.

Abruptly, Raven stops. Her hands pressed tight to her ears. She needs to wake up from this nightmare. ] STOP!

[wastor]

[All the phones stop at once, on her command.

Except one. It's a quiet, little trill, from an old rotary phone, trilling quietly on a desk near her. Its tone almost sounds plaintive.]

lol i was wondering

[rpms]

[ Everything stops and Raven feels like she's gone deaf.

But she hasn't. There is still one phone ringing. Quitter, not a sound that is searing through her skull. Raven hesitates, her hand hovers over the phone. Quickly, Raven picks it up and presses the receiving end to her ear. ] Hello?

w h o o p s.

[wastor]

[It's just this.

On loop.

Forever.]

[rpms]

[
Help me to help you.
Help me to help you.
Help me to he--

She drops the phone after a few seconds of listening to the same thing. ]

Give me something to work with, then. [ Raven mutters to herself. She closes her eyes, uses her fingers to massage her temples. ]

[wastor]

[A hole opens in the ceiling over top the phone, and hundreds of tools begin falling out. Most are rusty, antiquated, or in a state of general disrepair. Who knows how many are even usable.

But, hey. She asked.]

[rpms]

[ Raven jerks around when tools start to pour out from a hole in the ceiling. Tools! That has her cracking a smile. This is more her speed. As a mechanic, she recognizes most of the tools that are collecting in one huge mound.

She is starting to suspect that maybe she's in some sort of simulation. The City of Light all over again. She wiped that out, found the killswitch within the code. Helped Clarke shut A.L.I.E down.

A.L.I.E also did a number on her head. That A.I was a piece of work to say the very least. ]

How do I help you? [ Raven has picked a few vital tools. The ones that are in working condition, multi-purpose. ]

[wastor]

[The tools make a pile almost as big as Raven, a pile of rust and metal and miscellany. There's no answer this time. Raven will have to use the tools to figure it out for herself.

Though, some would say she's got a pretty good head start.]

[rpms]

[ She pulls out items from her backpack to make more room for the tools, things that feel useless to her.

To her, this is like some sort of heaven. Raven also picks out wires, parts that look like it came from a walk-talkie. She's had to fix one before. Has had to fix a lot of things, that was her job anyway. Rebuilt a one-hundred-year-old spacecraft, two actually. Fully functional. Took her to Earth and then took her friends back up into space.

Anyway.

Once she has filled her backpack, Raven zips it closed and pulls it up to her shoulders. Not the lightest thing to pick up and she grunts. ]

I help you and you help me, got it.