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wasteyard mods ([personal profile] wastemods) wrote in [community profile] wasteyard2019-05-18 02:36 pm

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.



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!


ragnarsson: ([17.16] Stop being stupid)

[personal profile] ragnarsson 2019-05-28 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Ivar gives a long and dramatic sigh as he stares longingly at the beast, clearly wanting to continue what appears to be an ultimately futile struggle. There's a roll of the eyes as he turns to look at Eliot.]

If you insist.

[Still, he can't just let this go without one last parting shot. He's not about to waste an axe or one of his knives when he knows he likely won't be able to retrieve it. So he manages to get a stray pipe up off the ground and throws it with unerring accuracy. Ivar's strength lies in long-range weapons and the pipe pierces the snake. It doesn't do too much besides stun it for a moment as it's forced to reform once again.]

Alright, now we can leave.

[Ivar, despite being nineteen, could be almost childish in his glee at causing violence and chaos. He limped over to Eliot. He couldn't move fast, so they were going need a bit of time to get away from this shadow creature.]
itselbitch: (fuck's sake)

[personal profile] itselbitch 2019-05-28 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ yes, he does insist, though he does get where this young man is coming from. he lets the kid have his last attack (it's petty, but, again, eliot gets it) before nodding toward the easiest path for them to take. ]

I'll slow it whenever it tries to catch up.

[ while not as slow, eliot still does have to hobble along himself, if not using the cane. buying time seems easy enough compared to taking down a shadow with a proverbial undo button. ]

What's your name?
ragnarsson: ([17.35] Let's have a look)

[personal profile] ragnarsson 2019-05-30 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Ivar Ragnarsson. Ivar The Boneless to friends and enemies alike.

[The way he pronounces his name makes it sound as if there are two R's to the end of his name since the R is rolled. 'Ivar hinn Beinlausi' is how his nickname comes out in Old Norse. The name of one of the most famous and feared Viking kings that had ever ruled during the Viking Era.]

And you, sorcerer?
itselbitch: (maybe it's not so bad)

[personal profile] itselbitch 2019-05-31 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ even ivar's introduction is so dramatic. it's oddly endearing, and eliot is glad he's found someone so boldly drastic.

he offers a faint smile and a formal bow of his head, the most that can really be offered as they make their escape. ]


King Eliot of Fillory. [ ...which is definitely not how he'd introduce himself on earth normally, but he wants to match some of this young man's theatrics. sue him. ]
ragnarsson: ([5x1.3] Now you see)

[personal profile] ragnarsson 2019-05-31 09:27 am (UTC)(link)
That makes two of us.

[He's still a king even if his brother overthrew him, godsdammit. Ivar will take back what is his with blood and fire...eventually. Right now, he's just settling for surviving everything that has been thrown at him of late. He gives Eliot another up and down assessing look.]

I assume you must use magic to maintain your position. You don't seem like much of a warrior.

[That's how Viking kings kept their power. It was like being the alpha in a wolf pack: you only kept your position as long as you were the strongest one in the group. Any fear, any hesitation or weakness shown, and Vikings would swiftly turn on their king.]
itselbitch: (just. why.)

[personal profile] itselbitch 2019-06-01 12:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ wait, this kid is a king?

well. okay. that. probably needs reexamination if his first instinct is to charge in all the time. eliot has to fight the urge to roll his eyes when he feel ivar's gaze raking across him in judgement. ]


Actually, it didn't have to do with power. [ it was more like he showed up and passed a weird knife test that said he was supposed to be king and then married his destined wife to become said king. but details. ] Diplomacy is much more favored in Fillory. A strong army is good but can't trump diplomacy.

And anyway, I know how to use a sword. [ not that he's an expert, but he can use one, and he will defend that until someone challenge him to an actual sword fight. ]
ragnarsson: ([18.17] Murder him to avenge our father)

[personal profile] ragnarsson 2019-06-03 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
[To be fair, Ivar was a terrible king, running his kingdom along the lines of a dictatorship. He was much better at being a warlord, fighting and conquering the English countryside. Yet he'd still somehow inspired some people enough for them to be willing to die for him in battle. He was a strange one like that.]

Diplomacy? Bah. [He waves the word away with his left hand.] Diplomacy does a lot of good when there's an army that wants blood at your door and will accept nothing else. One of the kings I killed offered me gold, silver, anything me and my brothers wanted to spare his life. But when someone wants revenge, nothing will convince them otherwise. We killed him with the bloðorn.

['Blood-eagle.' It's a word that didn't have a good modern equivalent, but he said it with an ominous tone. It was one of the worst deaths that the Vikings could give to their enemies.]