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Entry tags:
- !event,
- !tdm,
- athena | borderlands,
- benedict dearborn | original,
- carver hawke | dragon age,
- denji | chainsaw man,
- eliot waugh | the magicians,
- ellie | the last of us,
- ivar ragnarsson | vikings,
- logan | marvel,
- octavia blake | the 100,
- quentin coldwater | the magicians,
- robbie reyes | marvel,
- ruth aldine | marvel,
- will graham | hannibal,
- william | westworld
THE SKY WENT OFF-WHITE.
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.
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 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:
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.
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.
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?
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!
no subject
Dost ðú stefn Englisc?
['Do you speak English?' There's more familiar words in that sentence, but the way he pronounces them makes them sound more like German then the accent modern day English speakers have.]
no subject
I speak English. You don't.
[ At least not any form of English she's ever heard before, not in the year 2155.
She sheathes her sword, only for the sake of communication. Octavia doesn't doubt she can whip it out in a millisecond if he tries to attack her. While the shadow guards behind her begin to advance, she points at him roughly. ] You. [ She then puts her hands up in a questioning gesture. ] Who?
no subject
When she asks who he is, he thinks for a moment, the word sounding close to the Old English word 'hwa'. He answers slowly, hoping that he guessed correctly. He doesn't put his axe away, still considering her to be a threat.]
Ivar. Ivar Ragnarsson. And ðú?
['And you?' Again, sounding similar, but spoken with something almost like a German accent.]
no subject
Pointing at herself, she says, ] O.
[ It's not her full name, but it's a name nonetheless. One she feels more comfortable giving than her first and last.
There's little time to think on that further, though, as the next moment she feels the cold hand of a shadow person on her. She'd been so distracted by this strange man's appearance that she'd almost forgotten them, and she whips around, slicing clean through the one closest to her. It's dead soon after, just as a human of flesh and bone would be. A moment later, though, it's coming back together, pulling itself up like nothing happened. ]
What?
no subject
[He asks in a questioning tone, just to confirm that he had heard correctly. But there's little time for that as death plays out before him in a flash. He watches as Octavia kills it without taking time to draw breath. He's impressed and perhaps a little turned on. She's like a shieldmaiden and he can respect that.]
Haugbúi... [He murmurs to himself, the Norse word for 'Ghost' as the creature reforms itself. Between the two of them, he considers the spirits the worse threat. He moves back a little, still keeping Octavia between himself and the creatures. He's got no chance to outrun them, but maybe they'll just attack her first, and give him the time needed to escape.]