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redstringtheories2021-09-05 08:32 am
TDM #3
(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.)
(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.
(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.
(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.
- 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.
Kugrash | Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City
Fuck me-- [ There's a thudding from inside the ceiling accompanying the irritated voice, light but the muffled. If the gruff New York accent doesn't tip someone off to a new arrival, the noise will. Kugrash's words are quickly followed by a few more thumps, a little louder as he tries to reorient himself in the vent. If it sounds like there's an animal in the cieling, that's because there is. ]
Absolutely fuck my life. [ The gruff voice is low and gravelly, akin to someone chain smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day. When Kugrash exits the vent, it's not with a panicked thud, or even a call for help: it's mostly just annoyance as he brings a paw to the vent, just sort of pushes, and then immediately plummets into the room, right into someone's desk in a cloud of dust and dirt.
Kugrash himself is a rather horrid sight: he's a two foot tall rat man for starters, complete with a scar on his eye, a large snout, and a chunk of his ear missing. He doesn't bother with dusting himself off, dressed in raggedy clothes and holding a pipe like a staff, a bright orange scrap of a vest from an MTA worker cinched on his neck like a cape. Drawing himself as tall as he can (it's a feat, he's got a hunched back and a goddamn rat body), he finally assesses the place and shouts out to the nearest person. ]
Hey buddy, where the hell am I?
ii. Mirror Mirror;
Check it out, I'm a human again! [ Even if it's temporary, it's a start. The moment he spots his reflection outside of the headquarters he stops what he's doing and grabs the first person walking past, barely looking at who it is. ]
I'm just a normal dude! A regular guy! [ Between the thick glasses and chunky suit his human form looks like he's trapped in the 80s, and the look seems to spurs him on. Kugrash reaches out to at his glasses, a relic of an era gone by--his era, his human era--and with absolutely no warning, he erupts into tears. ]
This is the greatest day of my fucking life. [ Sorry, stranger: Kugrash is now not only gripping your hand, but is now attempting to hold it tenderly. His reflection shifts and warps, but Kugrash doesn't notice until he wipes his nose dramatically with his sleeve, peering over his reflection with beady, bloodshot eyes. He's got mouse ears on his mostly human reflection and finally lets go. ]
Is that, uh, supposed to happen? The reflection changing back?
iii. Wildcard
[ Feel free to find Kugrash running about, be it as a rat eating out of the garbage in the office or a human about town. He tends to gravitate towards the homeless or impoverished sections of the city. If you need a grimy guy to smack you awake, he's your rat. PM me if you want a private starter or have any questions!
Kugrash's normal form is a little rat man, but while he's out and about he'll look like his human self! ]
I
Is that. Is that a talking rat. Oh no, hopefully they can keep Thackery from eating him. He's pretty gross looking though so maybe he'll survive...]
Uh. Different universe. Cosmic entities built off fear are lurking around, planet's called Earth, you're in the Apocalypse Disruption Initiative – Are you an awakened rat?
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Goddammit. I was kinda doing something important back home. Okay--shit--I'm Kugrash, by the way.
[ He's squinting at Aelwyn now, perfectly content to stay on whoever's desk this is, stooping over and twitching his nose. He's got a lot more questions to ask, namely if he really is in a parallel universe, but smaller questions first as he tries to wrap his brain around a few things. ]
This fucking sucks. Are you a fairy?
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But I am an elf. Which is sort of fae adjacent. [She shrugs.]
You're not the first to arrive in the middle of something important. My old roommates were in the middle of a revolution or something, it was all very dramatic.
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As they talk, Kugrash is just going to go ahead and start rifling through the poor desk owner's papers. This still sucks, this situation still sucks, and the outcome is less than stellar, and it shows in Kugrash's face as he mutters a few choice swear words under his breath. He'll just have to see if anyone else is here before making his next move, he guesses. ]
Uh, thanks, Miss.... uuuuh... Miss. Am I the only arrival? Have you seen anyone else? An idiot in a cowboy hat, a really hot firefighter, super loud gal from Staten Island? Anything like that?
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Can't say I've seen anyone who fits any of those descriptors. They might turn up. They might not. Most of us didn't originate from this world, but a few of us didn't show up alone.
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You alone, or is there someone from your place wound up here?
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wildcard!
Mahiru does what a normal teenage girl does when she sees a large rat: screams and fucking panics. But her second action is very much unlike a normal teenage girl. She grips the stick she's holding, a stick that she's claimed as an impromptu weapon the moment people told her of the odd things that might happen, and attempts to just hit Kugrash with the stick. It's very much like a baseball player trying to hit a baseball, except she's screaming all the while.
She'll apologize when she realizes the giant rat can talk and has feelings, but at the moment? Gonna yeet that rat away from her. ]
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What he's not expecting is a teenage girl to have the same baseball swing as Babe fucking Ruth. Kugrash, having spent precious moments before Mahiru's attack far too focused on finding the perfect sandwich in the dumpster, barely has time to drop the food before the screaming girl swings the stick at him.
Hey, he's not a proud man. He screams just as loud as he jumps out of the way, scrambling to try to protect himself. Mahiru doesn't hit his head but she does manage to sock him straight in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending his two foot tall body right into the wall. ]
Fuck! Ow, goddammit! [ He hits the floor with a thunk, voice hoarse and gruff as he coughs, scrambling instantly to try to find some cover behind two shiny silver trash cans. ]
It's cool, it's cool! I'm not a rat! I am a rat but not a rat-rat!
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There is just instantly more screaming. It's only when Kugrash scurries behind the trash cans and continues talking that Mahiru's screaming slowly stops. She's still wielding that stick like a baseball bat, though. She don't trust you, man. ]
You're a rat that can talk! How can you talk?! I've never met a talking rat before!
[ The only talking animal she's met was a giraffe! And that was a normal sized giraffe, not an oddly huge giraffe (though really, giraffes are oddly huge to begin with, aren't they) ]
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[ Kugrash's staff--really, it's just a pipe from the New York City sewers--goes clattering onto the ground in front of the girl. An attempt to show he's unarmed and she should do the same, all from his spot wedged between a brick building and some shiny bins. ]
I'm not gonna hurt you, alright?
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I'm sorry, [ she admits, because she very much hurt him. ] You just...I mean...well I...everything just took me by surprise!
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Kugrash, in all of his weird, two-foot glory, brings a rat paw up to wave at her, with no visible signs of injury from the bat. There's an old scar over his eye and a chunk of his ear missing, but he's had that for ages: Mahiru is in the clear in terms of guilt over hurting him. ]
You've got a swing on you, lady. Goddamn Rickey Henderson. Remind me not to piss you off--what's your name?
II
EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - Even so, you can't will yourself to let go of him. His hold on your hand is tender and kind, and his cathartic joy is genuine. You may risk tearing up with him if this keeps up.
harry lets the rat-man feel what he feels, patting him on the back a couple times as he sobs, but then takes note of the mouse ears cropping up in the reflection. for now, his own reflection looks to be normal. ]
Buddy, this mirror is lying to you. I don't know how, but you're the farthest thing from a normal dude I have seen here so far.
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It's supposed to lie to make me look like a dude. [ His New York accent is fairly thick as he taps his reflection. It doesn't tap back. It stays there, staring blankly. Kugrash finally lets go of the stranger's hand and wrinkles his snout. ] If something's fucked up with it, I didn't do it, man, you gotta believe me.
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[ this whole reality is a rollercoaster so far in his month or so of being in it. he shrugs, not as bothered by the weirdness because he likes it. he looks back at the mirror and smiles. ]
Hey there crazy mirror people.
[ he raises a hand to wave... only his reflection doesn't wave back. instead it shoots a nasty smirk and lifts his hand, the same one that *should* be waving, holding a gun. he points it to the head of the rat man (or man rat?) in the reflection and winks. ]
Hey! Hey no, put down the gun me! Bad! Bad cop!
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There's not really much more time to think before the stranger's reflection aims a gun at his head--wait, his reflection's head? This is very confusing--and Kugrash acts on instinct. He's probably too tiny to shatter the mirror so instead his little legs scurry to move away from the scene and behind the cop. If the other allows, he'll scramble up the other's back and hang onto him, shouting loudly the entire time. ]
What the fuck! [ Understatement of the century as tiny little rat paws grab at any surface of the poor stranger they can. ] Stop pointing a goddamn gun at me, guy! We gotta get the fuck out of here!
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[ he scrambles on his feet as the rat starts to climb him, not throwing him off (he's actually doing his best to *not* do that) so much as keeping balance with the sudden move. the bad cop in the mirror winks at them and then turns the gun right at them. ]
Oh hell no!
[ he reaches for his belt and - and crap, he doesn't actually carry his gun around on him normally! damn. ok, new plan.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - You roll back your arms and prepare yourself. Your fist will work, but you'll more likely to hurt your hand. Instead you pull back and lunge forward, striking at the mirror with the blunt corner of your elbow. The mirror shatters, the point of destruction blossoming out to bloom a flower of broken glass.
PERCEPTION (SEEING) [Easy: Success] - And yet, as you look into the broken form, your reflections are completely normal. Both yours and the rat's.
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Spooky. ]
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Also, there's the fact that he legitimately panicked instead of trying to fight shit, but Kugrash isn't about to cop to that whatsoever. He crawls down rather reluctantly after he's seen that the reflections are normal in the shattered in the remnants of the mirror, shaking his whole body out like a dog who's just been outside in the rain. ]
You beautiful bastard. You beautiful goddamn bastard. You saved me from yourself. [ Kugrash has half a mind to grab his face and give him a wet smacker of a kiss out of sheer joy, but ultimately decides against it. It already probably looks weird for any onlookers, best not make it any weirder. ]
You're a fucking pal, buddy--I'm Kugrash.
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wildcard!
Luckily it's not a corpse. The legs just belong to a young man who seems to have fallen asleep in the trash, on a bed of imperfect produce and yesterday's bread.
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. All that strange music floating in the air has just made dumpster diving an even riskier venture.
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Piece of shit may be unfair, though. This guy doesn't seem like the usual mean drunk or frat bro passed out, just a dude in the trash, which is something incredibly relatable to him. Also, the other guy's on top of a bunch of bread that smells fucking delicious and he's pretty hungry. He plops right into the dumpster next to the stranger and puts an incredibly grimey, tiny little rat paw on the other's neck, checking for a pulse. The stranger doesn't seem unconscious... ]
The dumpster's a shitty place to sleep, guy, c'mon.
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Jeff's eyes flutter open, and-- blearily-- he takes in his surroundings. He's in a dumpster (makes sense), the sun's out (it definitely wasn't when he jumped in), and there's... another dude in here with him. A dude in a suit.
He stretches his arms, then fixes his attention on the guy.
"Hey, man." Like this is totally normal. But hey, Jeff's passed out in nastier places before. Most people would be surprised by how clean grocery store dumpsters can be. For giant trashcans, anyway. "Whoa. You're really well dressed for this scene."
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"Fuck you, you beautiful bastard, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. You're actually on a bunch of bread I was going to eat, so if you're alive and stuff and not in any danger, if you want to just scooch over a little bit, that'd be great."
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They're just two guys hanging out in a dumpster, being cool and complimenting each other.
"Oh-- yeah, hang on--" He needs to move, anyway, because this is not the most comfortable position. Jeff scooches, doing his best not to smash the bread any further, and starts to look around at the offerings here.
Stick to stuff that's packaged, bagged, and not too old.
"Sometimes they have this really nice bread, dude, it's like... Rosemary or something? Tastes fucking fancy."
Just a tip from a regular customer.
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"Dude, I think we just became friends. I'm completely new here, man. I haven't had a chance to really sit and dive. I'm Kugrash, by the way. Nice to meet you." he grins, nodding fervently as the other gives him the tip. He pitches the bagel he'd grabbed across the dumpster, replacing it with a stale loaf of rosemary. After a few bites of a completely good (if a little stale) loaf, doesn't bother hiding the fact that he's squinting at the other.
"Uh... Hey I don't want to be a dick or anything, but me being in here makes cognitive sense, you know? You don't smell like alcohol, how'd you pass out in here, guy?"
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