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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
Here. Yes. [Ruth sweeps a hand around their surroundings, a fresh wave of nausea making her wobble where she stands. She's...she's not sure what else to say. Maybe the implication is clear: What have you found? She's starting to feel like she might throw up again.
There's a sharp, metallic squeal from a trash can behind her. Surprising--and strange for it. Ruth's not used to being surprised. She turns and walks toward the sound, waving a hand as if to say come on, with all the confidence a sighted person might have. Blood's starting to slide down her philtrum again, though, a droplet spattering on her white blouse. If she can't say anything he'll understand, she can at least investigate their surrounding.]
no subject
Hér? [He echoes, trying to understand what her meaning is. He follows her, bemused at the sight of a blind girl seemingly able to navigate the world around her with ease. He trails after her, limping slowly. He notices her nose beginning to drip blood again.]
þú est dreyra?
['You're bleeding?' He taps her nose, trying to get his point across. Violence was so common among the Vikings that dreyera meant specifically meant the oozing of blood from a slight wound.]
no subject
Sorry, thank you. This world doesn't agree with me.
[And she doesn't have anything to wipe the blood on besides a white shirt. For now, she'll bleed.
A crackle comes from the trash, from the same general area as the shriek a moment earlier. She reaches into it, pushing aside paper and something that feels like it might have been food once. (It's slimy. Better not to wonder.) Then something hard--solid--making another staticky noise as she pulls it from the pile.
Ruth's brow draws down beneath her blindfold as she turns the object between her hands. It's instantly recognizable to her, even without looking: a walkie talkie, one of the brick-shaped ones from years ago, with a rubbery antenna sticking out of the top.]
Wonder who thank you would answer. [She says it more to herself, aware that none of it will come through to her companion.] If we called.
no subject
He watches as she sifts through the trash in wonderment. It seems as if she can walk and see things unaided, even with the blindfold over her eyes. Is she truly blind? He wonders even more when she pulls out the walkie talkie.
The squawking device means nothing to him, but it seems like Ruth knows what it's supposed to be used for.]
Eru yðr einn völva?
['Are you a sorceress?' He asks with wonderment in his tone. Völva can have several meanings regarding magic, not all of them complimentary, but in this instance he means it as one. He has great respect for anyone who has found a way to compensate for their disabilities.]
no subject
Her attention goes down to the device in her hands when she hears it, head dropping like she's looking at it. Are you a sorceress? And then she lifts her head back to the man who spoke the words in the first place.
She's smiling, just a little.]
No. Thank you, please. I see things. Not pardon with eyes.
no subject
[He's surprised but in a good way. Then he realizes that he understood her as well, or at least when her voice filters through the walkie-talkie. He's distracted from asking his initial question of how a girl without eyes could see by the device she's holding in her hands. He prods it with a fingertip.]
What is this thing?
no subject
Walkie talkie. [Ruth holds it out to him, so he can take a look at it.] They don't sorry usually work like this.
no subject
I don't care how it works, just so long as it does. It's tiring not to be able to communicate.
[With his curiosity being satisfied, he goes back to what he had been originally questioning.]
How do you see without eyes?
no subject
[Ruth falls quiet, neither noticing nor caring that it's a moment too long on her part, before she responds to his question. Where she's from, explaining things like that hasn't been safe for a while now. (She's no longer sure how long.)]
I...sorry, sorry, please M-my mind makes up for it. Yes.
[Another pause.]
You know pardon what mutants are?
no subject
[...Her mind? How can a mind make up for blindness? He knows that being smart can result in some very out-of-the-box thinking, but this is something else entirely.]
No. I've never heard of that word before.
[It's not exactly that a discussion topic like genetic mutations would crop up all that often among the Norse people.]
no subject
...Like a sorceress.
[To give him an idea, she points at a piece of trash, someone's crumpled-up scrap paper, and it rises up from the rest, hovering in the air. Ruth hasn't tried this trick in years--it's something she'd loved to do as a little girl--but it still works.
And it makes her feel like her skull's going to split open. Her concentration broken, she clutches at her head; she's bent double, blood dripping on the floor.]
No, no, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry--
[The words disappear into a groan.]
no subject
When she reacts with agony, doubling over, he immediately reaches for her, asking a question. But he fails to hold down the button of the device. When he realizes this, he repeats it again.]
Are you alright?