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

[ragnarsson]

[He waits a minute to see what Carver will do, watching closely as his lips move. He can't make out any of the words since it's in another language. When Carver doesn't seem to get it, he writes out a longer phrase, still not realizing that it's backwards.

It's a lot of runes, followed by a strange mark that looks almost like a lightning bolt with a dash through it, the Viking Age's equivalent of a question mark. It comes out to the phrase 'Do you understand?']

[swordliest]

[More words helps. It let's him see the pattern, understand better what's happening, even if it takes him several long seconds to parse.

Under his breath:]

No, I don't bloody understand. What am I—

[Click. There it is.]

Ohhh. Shit, alright. Hang on.

[He copies Ivar, writing in condensation, not bothering to try to resolve the mirroring issue:

'YES'
'CARVER'
'WHERE?'

Where he is, where Ivar is. Doesn't really matter, any bearings are better than none.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar takes a few moments to figure out that the writing coming back on his side is a mirrored image. As he writes back, he tries to write the runes backwards, though a few of them don't get flipped quite right, making the message look a little odd.

'WHERE?' Does that mean where he is? Heck, he doesn't really know the answer to that question. After thinking a moment, he writes down what it looks like around him.

'Darkness and moonlight. You?']

[swordliest]

[He squints briefly up at the sky. Moonlight doesn't make any sense. It's daytime, isn't it? Even if it seems weak, pale.

If Ivar tries, he'll feel guilted enough to try too, even if he's absolutely miserable at reversing the letters. Hopefully it's good enough. He writes back:

'Sun's out.'

And then, with a palpable moment of hesitation:

'Can you come through?'

The mirror, he means.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar takes a minute to read the two words just to make sure he understands. He even glances out a nearby window just to confirm that, yes, it is indeed still the same nighttime it had been when he first arrived here.

'Weird. It's definitely night here.'

At the question, Ivar taps the mirror cautiously with his fingertips. It doesn't seem to give way. He pulls out one of his many knives and traces the edges of the mirror, trying to see if there's some hidden trick to it he's missing. After carefully running the blade along the entire thing, he decides there isn't.

'Doesn't look like it.']

[swordliest]

[Sounds like magic to him. What kind of magic, he has no idea, which he likes even less. He's starting to pace a little in front of the mirror, scowling, like staring at it will somehow net him more information.

Either way, Ivar is being extremely gentle with the mirror, in his estimation. Carver solves problems by smashing them. He pauses his pacing long enough to write:

'I could break it'

The mirror. It doesn't even look like it would be hard. The only reason he doesn't immediately try is, again, he doesn't understand the magic and isn't sure what would happen.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar sighs when he sees the reply, giving the man a flat look. It sounds like something one of his brothers would say. In modern terms, Ivar would have said they were all a bunch of dumb jocks with himself being the only one who used their brain among them all. Attacking and fighting was the only way they knew how to solve problems.

'Might work. Might just make it useless instead.' He has no idea how he'd be able to get in contact with Carver again if the mirror breaks. Could he just find another reflective surface or is this the only enchanted mirror in the place?]

[swordliest]

[That is a good point, and a sound argument, and Carver kind of hates it.

To himself, under his breath:]

What, then? Not about to sit around on my ass for the rest of my life, am I?

[But, no, Ivar is right; the risk of losing contact with the only other person he's seen in a long while is too much to try it. But— then again—

'Could you find this mirror again if you had to?'

With how the landscape seems to shift and change on a whim, Carver's not certain he could. Maybe if he takes extra care to memorize it. Or finds... bread crumbs, or something.]

[ragnarsson]

[Carver's soon gonna become annoyed by Ivar. He's the thinker among his brothers, the strategist who keeps all the rest of them in line with how to win battles.

Ivar thinks about that question for a moment. When he writes, it takes a minute or two to get all the words out. The mirror is only so big after all. 'I don't know. Half the time I close a door the place seems to change or disappear behind me.']