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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.
also, jack's a delight
alright.
it would kind of make sense if he just arrived here to work for the ADI, wouldn't it? not that 'weirdos' are part of the application process (so to speak), but it seems to be something of a common denominator.]
Can...ada.
[wanda isn't sure if it would be better to let him know that they technically work together, or to keep acting like she's not in the know.]
I'm staying at Bonnie's. [one of the places the ADI allows them to stay in, a more run-down but private apartment building. maybe this will clear up any confusion as to whether he should or shouldn't mind what he says around her?] I know about — "Canada".
thank u he's a mess sry 4 your lot wanda
( He exhales in a rush, lowering the basket as his shoulders drop. The relief shifts things a little, and the general cadence of the words seems slightly less awkward. Slightly. )
I'm sorry, I'm not really good at the whole... thinking of a good excuse on the fly thing. I'm normally better at keeping my mouth shut, it's just- It's been a long... couple of months back in... Canada.
( To
say
the
least. )
I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but... I'm okay. I swear. It's really cool of you to ask, though.
adds to the pile
this whole situation they're in doesn't really help matters.
(he still looks like shit.)]
You kind of stand out.
[the looks, the staring into nothingness for minutes on end vibe, the ice box. wanda pushes the box with tea from one hand to the other, thoughtful for a moment, as if deciding what to say.]
I kow you're still wrapping your head around this. It is a lot. [—and stops, holding the box in both hands—] Maybe I can still give you a hand?
no subject
At you kind of stand out he gives one of those head-bobbing kind of shrugs that reads a fatigued, self-deprecating yeah, I know. He's-- so, yeah, he's always been awkward, but he was like... normal awkward before everything went to shit. Like, the kind of awkward they started making movies about for some reason because people got super into the whole nerd fantasy and indie pop. Now he's disassociate in a convenience store awkward. He is nothing if not completely self-aware. It's kind of like watching a train wreck in slow motion, except you're the train. )
Yeah. Okay. Thanks.
( He relents finally, because it just seems easier. )
I'm Jack.
( There's a flex of his shoulders, then a little tug of his lips into one of his cheeks like he's just remembered he can't shake her hand because both of his are full. )
And-- can you do me a favor before you transition this first impression from short to long term memory and just... kind of scale back how weird it was by maybe ten percent? That's... more my normal baseline.
no subject
Wanda.
[a surprisingly common name—jack—for someone who doesn't quite fit in with the normalcy the general store is currently in ownership of. stranger things have happened, and stranger people have walked these streets; she only seems to be well put because she can mask it easily, so she's not about to give this guy a hard time for having a rather...
well, memorable first impression.
wanda manages to smile at the comment, seeming more than open to the idea of acquiescing to his request.]
Trust me, I have seen weirder. [....debatably in a different category.... she nods over towards the basket he holds.] Do you have enough to pay?
no subject
Never mind. He's blocking it out. A little deliberate cognitive dissonance never hurt anything, did it? He... seriously would not be able to explain it if he tried. )
Yeah, I think so. They gave me some money, and swapped out the stuff I had.
( He says, dipping down again so he can use his free hand to dig a wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. Tattered and stained with something uncomfortably rust-colored, it opens up to display a small handful of bills. )
I should be okay unless they charge fifty dollars for a frozen burrito or something.
( In hindsight, he probably should have checked that before picking it up. He's been mentally slapping the prices from the gas station he owns onto these very similar products to use as a round-about estimate — with a slight currency conversion. He's been ballparking it. )
no subject
Should be okay.
[she echoes what he says, and carefully tries considering him being a stranger versus the potential of nothing being wrong with him.
should be okay.]
How do you feel about an actual meal?
[that isn't a frozen burrito]
no subject
Which he would love to say in order to help course-correct this whole thing, but... even he knows that sounds fucking nuts. Hello, convenience store stranger, here's my life story involving monsters and murder within the first five minutes of meeting one another, hope that fixes everything!
How does he feel about an actual meal?
He thinks: Like I haven't been able to keep down anything but crackers and frozen burritos in longer than I can remember. He finds something different but still honest to say instead. )
Appreciative?
( Because his calories out vs. calories in recently has not been a very healthy balance, he knows, and his Castaway But In A Gas Station isolation diet hasn't really done him any favors. )
no subject
he would be the jumpy kind.
thunder rumbles in the distance, and wanda remembers why she came here in the first place.]
Might rain for a while. Want to wait it out at Bonnie's?
no subject
He nods, lips pressing into an understanding little line. )
Yeah, I should probably... you know.
( Clean up. He might've scrubbed all the blood off of his actual person, but some not six months fighting and disassociating clothes would probably help a lot. This coffee should put a little life back into him, too. )
Yeah.
( With that he'll sort of gently shuffle past her toward the register, where he quietly and politely pays. Having spent so much of his life working on the other side of this interaction, he can't help but feel some weird unspoken Me Too Buddy predisposition toward cashiers. Not that they're likely to pick up on it probably.
It also really... really makes him miss when his problems were as simple as the occasional robbery or giant mutated raccoon attack.
All his wordly possessions - save one baseball bat back in his empty room - are loaded into a plastic bag; he even works his cooler into it so he looks a little less odd. It gently strains the bag and turns the whole shape square, but it's better than nothing.
His check-out done, he'll wait patiently for Wanda to finish hers and then follow her lead out the door. )
no subject
well, hopefully they'll make it somewhere before any of that happens.
out the door and into the drizzle she had arrived in, wanda hurries along down the street, making sure that he is able to follow.]
Do you know anyone from your world here? [the question comes as another rumble of thunder is heard in the distance.] Or are you here by yourself?
no subject
No, I'm... I came here alone.
( From the cooler into his mind, a muffled, what am I, chopped liver? Hang on, wait- don't answer that.
The truth is, he's not sure if it would matter all that much if somebody did. The person he'd want most is an impossibility, Rosa still thinks he's a murderer thanks to that thing riding around in the skin of his deceased coworker, and Deputy O'Brien — Amy — is probably so sick of cleaning up his messes she'd steer clear of him here like she is back home. He doesn't have anyone else.
Honestly, it's that more than the deteriorating gas station he can't leave and the repeated attempts on his life by the same clone over and over again that's done a number on his mental health. Without anyone around to snap him out of it, he loses time. Loses an anchor to reality. Loses anything concrete by which to compare the hallucinations his terminally ill mind springs on him with increasing regularity as he heads toward his inevitable expiration date.
As much as he needs to get back to the gas station, it's honestly better for his sanity to be around real human people. )
Does that happen? Do you have people here?
no subject
[she is trying to express that regardless of who is brought here, the possibility for people from the same world does exist. however, it doesn't really mean it would so happen to be a friend.]
It feels more random than anything else.
[perhaps he's already met some of the other people who have arrived from other worlds before her (hopefully).]
Though it makes no difference. Everyone seems to want to build a community of sorts amongst those employed by the ADI.
[no real attempts at villainry, so to speak...]
no subject
Throughout the walk he's seemed to ease up, some of the nervous energy settling down. It fades out of his posture, bleeding slowly from his neck and shoulders. )
Communities aren't always a good thing. I'm from a really... small, really... backwoods shithole town. The community hivemind almost went all ya'll-qaeda on my friend for basically no reason. What're the people like here?
i thought he meta-implied jesus showing up in gloucester wheeze
[things in sokovia were a little friendlier before it ceased to exist, especially to the twins that would go out of their way to help out, who were vocal enough about the injustices their people faced.
outside of that, though, she hasn't really found a community—not one where she feels she's actually welcomed in. there were some issues with her standing in the avengers, and westview—well. that one was on her.]
—but, they're nice, here. Friendly enough. I can't speak for the majority, but I know a few think the priority should be in returning to our homes. [wanda spares him a glance.] Unless you're better off here?
['backwoods shithole town']
im cackling
( He says immediately, shaking his head and ducking it in the same move. )
It's-- it's complicated, but I need to get back as soon as possible. There's stuff going on that I need to be there for, and the longer I'm gone... It's-- big. It's really, really big.
( Yes, his town is a shithole. Yes, he tried once to make it out of there — and what came of it pretty much ruined him — but that doesn't mean he can abandon it or his world to what's coming to it.
He's not trying to dump his whole situation on her right now or anything, not trying to be ominous, he just needs to make that clear to anybody who might know something, or eventually figure something out, or can direct him to someone that can help. She seems to have some established understanding of the situation. He's reached rock bottom, peak desperate. Being withholding isn't on the table. )