redstringtheories

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TDM #3

➥ Arrival

(cw: potential for severe disorientation/vertigo, claustrophobia, arachnophobia, body horror)

It happens in the blink of an eye. You may have been asleep. You may not have. You may have stepped through a door or turned a corner. You may have seen a flicker of something at the corner of your vision and turned to look. Or maybe you didn't.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that you find yourself somewhere entirely new and entirely unfamiliar. The arrival point is not always the same. (If you're lucky, it might be a canteen or an open office. If you're not, well... you aren't claustrophobic, are you? Or arachnophobic. These ducts do seem to be a bit cobwebby.) There is no one waiting for you but you don’t seem to be alone, either. Even in a janitor’s closet or the bathroom, you’ll find at least one person who seems to be just as out of place as you are.

If characters have arrived in a location devoid of NPCs, they may want to work together to figure out what is going on... or to avoid their 'kidnappers.' If you’ve arrived in the middle of the entry foyer or the gym, there may well be a few people who startle a bit at your arrival and try to approach (or discreetly leave the room... where are they going?). Will you cooperate or fight? Do you even understand what they're saying? You might need to find a translator, if you’re not immediately willing to follow a stranger.

After characters follow their new hosts (or are forcibly taken in) there will be a limited tour and the chance to settle in at the ADI-provided housing. (Do you enjoy living with strangers? Well. It's a new situation to navigate, anyway.)

➥ The Butcher's Camp

(cw: animal death, both human and animal butchery, implied cannibalism, potential for flesh/small limb removal)

Weird things happen in Dogtown, everyone knows it. The Apocalypse Disruption Initiative (ADI) is not above taking advantage of that to test out the waters for its newest arrivals. They're not looking to send anyone to their death, though. That's far too much paperwork, you'd been assured with a wink from the employee who'd directed you to the park trailhead. You've been left with another person. Maybe they're a new arrival, as well, or a more seasoned 'veteran.' Either way, you're together for the next while and you've been asked to find and record any paranormal activity in the park. You have your phones and any other equipment you might have brought with you. Those who succeed in documenting anything peculiar will receive a $100 reward to be used as they see fit.

This month characters who venture into Dogtown will eventually stumble across what seems to be an abandoned camp. Its usage is fairly obvious: the remains of a hunting camp. And remains really is the operative word, considering that whoever used the camp wasn’t particularly fastidious about cleaning up after themselves. There are bits of various animal carcasses strewn around and by the looks of things the prey of these hunters was quite varied. Not all of them are prey animals either.

Stepping into the camp seems to have an effect: anyone who passes over the threshold to investigate will find themselves powerfully driven to mark themselves - or their partner - with lines that seem to indicate where a butcher might cut. There are black, red, and white paint pens littered around the camp that are perfect for this exercise. As they proceed, they will get the sense that once the lines are completely drawn, something will be coming along to make use of them.

Staying too long after those marks are completed - either through curiosity or through some other force - will result in a sudden unconsciousness. And when you wake up? (If you wake up…) Well. It seems the butcher has returned and taken just a bit more flesh. At least the wound is properly dressed, though. Thank goodness for small mercies.

➥ Mirror, Mirror

(cw: altered perceptions and unreality/hallucination, body horror, dissociation, wounds, cancer, stalking)

Something is wrong with the mirrors.

Everywhere around Gloucester - at ADI headquarters, in ADI housing, at Bonnie's Flophouse, even in the bathrooms of mundane businesses (and, presumably, the homes of the innocent and uninvolved), looking in the mirror has become...risky. It's not predictable; it doesn't happen every time and may or may not happen to any given person the same way twice, but look into the reflection and you may see something that should not be there.

Perhaps your own reflection has changed, a face (human or monstrous) you don't recognize looking back at you, eerily in sync as though it has every right to be your true reflection… or un-synced from your movements, smiling knowingly at your distress.

Or maybe you still see your own face, but something about your body is warped, wrong: a growth or a seeping wound you can't find on your own physical form but that exists glaring and insistent in your reflection and feels, somehow, as though it's there in phantom form.

Maybe it's a pair of eyes watching from over your shoulder, hiding in the shadows, peering at you from every mirror you pass. Is it watching you from your reflection in that window, too? Is it growing nearer?

Possibly there's nothing wrong with your reflection at all, but the reflection of the room behind you stretches and twists, a view into an impossible, broken world that leaves you dizzy and wandering, lost down an imagined maze of hallways or following a phantom figure until someone else can snap you out of it.

Something is wrong with the mirrors. Best not to look again, lest you find out what else they have to show you.

➥ Haunting Tunes

(cw: hallucination, hypersomnia, vehicular accidents, potential for injury)

The summer is fading, and businesses around Gloucester have taken note. Fall decorations go up, and even some very early Halloween decor is on sale. The air is crisper in the mornings and evenings, the ocean breeze just a bit stiffer. There also seems to be a new melody floating around the town, one that leaves people feeling fatigued, heavy. Did you hear a snatch of it near the docks? Something that's vaguely familiar to you, nostalgic, almost. Maybe it's more a memory?

That song or memory seems to grow stronger when approaching the graveyards scattered throughout Gloucester. So, too, does the fatigue. Wouldn't it be nice to just sit down and rest? To close your eyes and let every worry that troubles your mind be soothed into the quiet oblivion of sleep?

Those most affected might find themselves passing out, and they always seem to do it when they are putting themselves in the most danger. You might drop while crossing a busy street or while riding a bike or some other wheeled mode of transportation. Those who investigate will find that traffic accidents seem to have seen an uptick recently, associated with the onset of these haunting tunes. They seem to be focused on the graveyards, but there's nothing immediately apparent there that might be causing problems.

Drink lots of coffee, and be careful trying to do anything. Stepping outside could be the last thing you do.

➥ Mod Notes

ARRIVAL (Sep 1 - 21): Two people will always arrive in the same general location together. Arrivals occur throughout the early month, not all on the same day or in the same place. Arrivals are not naturally fluent in English/other languages immediately upon arrival. Characters may attempt to evade capture, but they will eventually be snagged before they can leave the building. PC's already in-game are more than welcome to interact with and try to guide new PC's to get them oriented. Please refer to the Arrival page for details regarding the arrival and onboarding process.
THE BUTCHER'S CAMP (Sep 1- 24): Characters will only encounter the camp once. Everyone will feel the compulsion to draw carving lines along their own skin or that of the person they're with. If they stick around for long enough, they will pass out and may not wake up again. Those who do wake up will find that a piece of their flesh is missing and the wound has been bandaged. Whatever is taken will be non-fatal, but it will likely be inconvenient (e.g., some part of their calf or forearm, perhaps a finger or toe). Once ADI is made aware of injuries happening, they will stop sending people to Dogtown for training and only send people with the understanding that this is a potentially dangerous mission. Please bear in mind that if a character dies in the TDM prompt, they are dead. A different version who doesn't have TDM memories may be apped in their place. Similarly, injuries will not magically disappear. If your character loses a chunk of themselves, it is gone unless they can find someone who might be able to magically heal them. No one at ADI will offer this service, just mundane medical assistance. Magical healing is reserved for fatal injuries given the price of it!
MIRROR, MIRROR (Sep 1- 24): Characters may encounter a mirror effects multiple times, and may experience the same effect each time or different ones. As noted in the prompt, there is no apparent rhyme or reason to when any particular mirror exhibits any particular effect. Within the first week of the effects becoming known, ADI will cover all the mirrors within their headquarters and send out an advisory for characters to do the same in their homes. Characters who experiment and/or interview locals will, after a lot of legwork, be able to ascertain that the effects seem to be most concentrated on the west side of town, nearest the empty fields where the Fenix Down Extravaganza had set up their circus tents last month, with additional concentrations around ADI-affiliated buildings and Bonnie's Flophouse. Mirror effects will gradually grow less frequent over the course of the month and cease to occur after the 24th.
HAUNTING TUNES (Ongoing Effect): The tunes will be oddly familiar to the character, even if they are not from modern Earth. There are currently no ill effects from the song apart from inducing fatigue in characters. They can fight it off with coffee/caffeine, or other things they'd typically use to wake themselves up, but that tiredness always returns. An examination of the graveyard will not turn up a specific source. It just seems to be something there.
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➥ Mirror, Mirror
He's in an ADI unisex bathroom, washing his hands, and when he looks up the weasely face of Matthew Keller stares back at him, ashen with surprise, a hole in his forehead dribbling a trail of blood down across his nose.

Neal jerks back, almost tripping over himself in the need to put distance between him and the image.

It happens again later, though this time it's not Keller's face. Neal notices right away. As hypervigilant as he's had to be over the past few months, anything odd in his periphery gets immediate attention.

A decorative mirror behind a bar where he's been integrating himself. Something shifts in it and Neal looks up sharply, to see the space around him popping, melting, burning and reforming, like traditional film held over heat. He closes his eyes tight, blinks them open again--

And now there's Keller, raising a glass, that hole still in his head. He's naked, Y incisions marked across his body, and when he drinks his beer it leaks out of the cuts with blood and pus.

Neal leaves. Quickly.

The third time lasts the longest. It doesn't matter what building he's in, it doesn't matter what room, it doesn't matter what he's doing. Every mirror gives him the same visual, the same hunted feeling. Eyes and smiling teeth, the room gone dim around them, encroaching and retreating and, at one moment, the teeth snapping shut next to his ear.

He whips around at that to find--of course--nothing there.

Deep breath. Reclaimed calm. He flashes the closest person an apologetic smile.

"Didn't sleep well last night."

➥ Haunting Tunes
He's out for a jog. Minding his own damn business. Flashing a Hollywood smile at anyone he passes, because it doesn't hurt to be remembered as friendly if one is remembered at all.

The song, the memory, it's the feeling of a distant silver arch and the taste of macaroni and cheese made with spaghetti. It's Meet Me in St. Louis, or something very like it, and Neal can't decide whether he's drawn to it or wants to recoil. Either way his steps slow. His mind starts to wander. His eyelids flutter closed as he stumbles out into the street at a corner, in front of an oncoming bus.

➥ Wildcard
Neal is rapidly coming to the conclusion that he does not like this place. To put it in socially polite terms. As though the mirrors weren't enough, as though the disturbing reflections haven't spread to other surfaces, as though the eerie songs and ghosts of memories haven't made him balk at going outside, now two out of the three people he was connecting with in town are dead.

The third one is missing.

It takes some work to get information about his contact's last known whereabouts. No one is particularly eager to talk to him, not now that word has spread about his affiliation with ADI. Eventually the hints, rumors, and veiled threats lead Neal to a back-alley near the docks, where supposedly there's a back room poker game on Thursday nights.

He starts to knock the way he was told to... and the door creaks open.

"Oh, that's fabulous," he says, very dry. He looks back toward the brighter area outside of the little alley, possibly flashes a disarming smile at whoever just spotted him, and slips inside.

There's a warning, "Hey!" from behind Neal, where the morning's other pedestrians are waiting for the light to change and signify that it's safe to cross without interference from oncoming traffic. Yelena drops the nearly-full cup of coffee she's holding, and it splatters against her legs, staining her jeans, and the shoes of the woman next to her, and flecks the coat of a small white dog that has begun yapping frantically.

There's a fraction of a second in which she evaluates the situation, realizes the man is too tall and too far into the street for her to haul him back onto the sidewalk, and decides to work with his momentum instead. She hurls herself forward to hit him hard at the waist, timing her collision with the next stumbling step to carry them both past the bus and onto the decorative median.

At least, that's the plan. The one that hopefully won't end with them both having a really, really bad day.

Mercifully, it works. Neal snaps back to alertness at the impact of another body, veering from alert and confused at the car horns to alert and annoyed as he crashes face-first into some bushy kind of flower.

Of course, that's when he becomes aware of the passing bus, its horn still blaring. He twists enough to watch it go, nerves crackling with a rush of adrenaline, before he looks to see who saved his ass.

"...Thanks," he manages. "I don't... I'm not sure what happened."

Yelena rolls away and comes up into a crouch, drawing a slow, steadying breath, noting the dull complaints of knee and hip and forearm that are bound to turn into the sting of abrasions before too long - a small price to pay for a stupid idea and a graceless landing.

"You walked in front of a bus," she says. "Like you didn't even see it."

He seems alert enough now, but she still studies him intently, searching for any sign of lingering vagueness. "You were out running, yes? Did you stop anywhere unusual? Eat or drink anything strange?"

"No." His casual veneer is shaken for the moment. He climbs to his feet far less elegantly than her roll-and-crouch before offering her a hand up. He'll take his own impending bruises and scrapes and call himself one lucky sonuvabitch, though not out loud.

"My hero," he adds, with an unsettled little laugh. That is half performance. He's starting to get his head back together already, but recovering too fast from something like that isn't a pedestrian thing to do. "No, I didn't stop anywhere or eat anything strange. I brought my water with me."

The bottle itself is now smashed in the street, but he'll survive the loss. Thankfully. "There was this... music, though. Or."

He makes a slight face, an undefinable expression somewhere between unnerved and repulsed. "I'm not sure."

Edited 2021-09-21 17:27 (UTC)

Wanda startles when the person before her turns around suddenly, as if looking for something or someone. Generally, things are quiet at the general store, the amount of people inside it at any given time never too much to be unbearable.

"Sure," the smile isn't convincing her, leaning down to pick up the bottled drink she dropped in her surprise.

There's a convex mirror in the corner of the store for the employee to have a look at the aisles from the register. Wanda glances at it ruefully, before lowering her eyes, placing the drink inside the basket she holds.

"You might not want to stare at the mirror in here."

Neal's stomach dips with both vertigo and relief. It's not just him. He's not crazy. Not yet, anyway.

"I would be glad someone else sees it, but I also wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Deep breath. Slide back into smooth, relaxed confidence. "I'm Neal."

Mutual relief in knowing terrible things are happening to not just oneself, but to others, too. That's the way they roll here in Gloucester, it seems.

"Your own demons are your own," as are hers, but it's good that this man seems to settle back into something calm despite the strangeness of the situation. Wanda manages to raise her eyes to look at him after he introduces himself. "Wanda."

It's as much as she can offer, starting to move down the aisle now.

"You're new around here, aren't you?"

Something about his demeanor, something about maybe having seen him walking the halls of the ADI at some point without any real contact.

He falls in next to her comfortably, pretty sure she's not just saying 'new to town.'

"Very," he says dryly. "You've got more experience with the unsettling?"

How would one go about saying 'I am made of the unsettling' without coming off as, well, unsettling? One thing she will note, however, is that Neal seems to get his bearings just as quickly as it had been stolen for the briefest of moments.

"If you count one month in this place as more experience, then yes."

As magical as she may be, there is a dreadful sense of fear that holds them hostage here.

"Can't even guarantee that you'll get used to it."

"Given what I've seen in a few days, I definitely count that as more experience."

He glances toward one of the nearby reflective surfaces, a glass door on a cooler, and quickly looks away again. "This place definitely seems invested in making sure you don't get used to it, from what I hear."

She is here for tea, and that's the spot on the shelf that she stops at as she grabs a boxful of assorted tea flavors. The choice is easy, her hands and fingers a prison for the box.

"Something along those lines," no one's really said anything about it—or maybe Wanda has genuinely not been paying attention. She turns to him, a questioning look on her face. Was he here looking to buy something? "But we're also learning what this place is about."

It's best to keep the conversation light. "Were you looking for something to buy?"

Neal seems to come back to himself a little more at that question, making a self-depreciating noise of amusement. "Yeah. Kind of got derailed. I was going to see about making salmon fish cakes tonight. I thought my... roommates might appreciate them. One of them, anyway."

Since one of his roommates is a cat somehow.

Edited 2021-09-22 16:40 (UTC)

"Sounds fancy," is what she replies with, the idea of salmon fish cakes certainly calling to mind the word 'expensive' if nothing else. "I hope they enjoy it."

Not because of the dish in particular, but because anyone cooking a meal for anyone is delightful. She points at the freezer against the wall with a finger.

"Not sure about fresh fish, but you've got frozen ones there."

“Not too fancy. Not without fancy ingredients.” He smiles a little crookedly.

“Are you new to Gloucester?”

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carmesi - 2021-09-23 16:22 (UTC) - Expand

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conning - 2021-09-23 19:37 (UTC) - Expand

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carmesi - 2021-09-23 20:55 (UTC) - Expand

She is carrying folders and had been taking them down to finance when she comes across Neal. Kate offers a sympathetic smile. "It's okay." She feels empathy for the newcomer as she is not sleeping well herself most nights. He must be new as she hasn't yet met him or seen him in the building before. The ADI crowd is not that big.

"I think sleeping poorly is one of the conditions of the job. You're new, aren't you?"

Edited 2021-09-06 04:25 (UTC)

He huffs a noise that isn't really a laugh. "Very. Trying not to make it obvious, clearly failing."

He gestures at her armload of folders. "Neal Caffrey. Can I help?"

Well, that was...interesting. When he'd stepped into the shaded alley, it was more to take a break from the bright sun than to spy some man in the middle of something...well, it didn't seem normal.

Normally, Essek would leave the stranger to whatever business he had, but curiosity and a desire to avoid the direct sunlight a little longer won out over his inclination towards being anti-social. An illusioned-blond brow raised as the man smiled and darted into the building, Essek strode quikly to the door himself to peer in...then move to follow the man.

"Were you expecting a response or trouble?" Or both. He noticed how the door had opened seemingly of it's own accord. Possible with magic, but magic was a more dicey affair here.

He glances at the stranger, marking his face for later recognition. That he followed Neal inside says some interesting things. He's not sure precisely what things, yet, but interesting ones.

"Checking in on a friend. He usually keeps his door locked." For all intents and purposes, he seems perfectly relaxed about the fact that someone he doesn't know just followed him into a sketchy building.

He was awfully calm about all aspects of this. That either spoke to confidence, foolishness, or a danger worth noting. The fact he had no questions for Essek following him was noteworthy too but, ultimately, he meant the man no harm so for now it was simply easier to let the whole thing lie with only some wariness.

"And yet..." It doesn't need finishing, it's clear something is wrong. A trap or a mystery one or both of them would soon find out. Essek kept a step back and well on alert as they stepped into the room, half looking for an obvious threat and half looking for anything blatantly out of place, though he suspected it would be more up to the man's familiarity for the latter.

"Any reason beyond the obvious to expect trouble?"

Jaeger's a hard man to miss, standing well over six feet tall with his dark, bristling hair and solemn demeanor. He nods gentle understanding at Neal's apology, his eyes following the other man's gaze with thoughtful intensity. A frown crosses his face at the sight of the mirror, but he says nothing about that for the moment.

"Understandable. This place can be unnerving, especially if you aren't used to...all of it." There, that's suitably vague and slightly menacing? He gestures to indicate their general surroundings, before letting his hand drop to his side again. His voice is the rough rasp of someone who's had a throat injury, low and deep and slightly breathy.

"I take it you're new here?"

The first word that pops into Neal head on seeing the stranger is basketball. For perhaps obvious reasons. He smiles crookedly. "Very. The end of the world before now was red wine on an Ermenegildo."

He eases himself into a relaxed posture, making it look like he was two steps shy of calm the whole time. "You're used to it? ...All of it?"

To be fair, Jaeger wouldn't make a bad football lineman, either: he's broad in the chest and shoulders, a heavy frame to fill out that height. He gives a tentative smile at the reference because he actually understood that, and it brings a tiny smile to his face along with a slight nod. Maybe not so much menacing after all, just big and stern.

Red wine spills are a tragedy, he can definitely understand that.

"I wouldn't say 'all of it', because it's a lot to take in and this place seems to like surprises." Strange, uncomfortable, or outright terrifying surprises. "But I've worked investigation for a long time, so I'm at least somewhat used to the idea."

he considers Neal for another few seconds, then inclines his head in polite greeting. "Andrew Jaeger, by the way."

Neal returns the nod, somehow managing to convey 'friendly' along with polite. "Neal Caffrey. I've been investigation-adjected for a while, but that's about all I've got going for me at the moment."

A half-glance down at his wardrobe, which is unquestionably flattering but also unquestionably department store. "In more ways than one."

Jaeger can appreciate a professional appearance: he's worked with many clients in the upper echelons and it's not unfamiliar territory to him. Though he's dressed down more comfortably in slacks and a turtleneck, he's completely at ease and bears himself with the brisk demeanor of someone who knows his job and is good at it.

"It's good to take whatever familiarity you can get, here. It's a big change for a lot of people...not just working in a new place, but existing somewhere different altogether."

Someplace with its own weird rules and regulations, on top of that.

"How much have you seen here so far?"

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TDM #3

Neal Caffrey || White Collar

Haunting Tunes

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mirror mirror

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Mirror Mirror

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Wildcard

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Mirror, Mirror

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