TDM #9


(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: death, child death, semi-graphic description of injury, existential terror, memory manipulation (adding memories))
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, especially not with recent events that have transpired surrounding Dogtown. An employee gives you a number to call if anything truly dangerous happens and you've been left with another person at the trailhead. 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.
There is a body on the side of the path. From a distance, it's hard to tell who it might be… apart from someone who's made terrible life choices about where to take a break. You might find the body propped up against a boulder, lying in the snow, or even slumped on a bench. Approaching, though, brings into view… someone. Maybe someone you recognize vaguely. Do you know them from- Where exactly do you know them from? Or maybe it's a complete stranger, someone foreign in face and form.
The body is never the same for any groups of people who might happen upon it. One time, it's a young white man dressed in what seems to be parachute pants, a boombox fallen or resting with him. Another, it's an Hispanic person, their clothes reminiscent of something out of a western. Still others, it might be a little black girl, looking like she's cosplaying one of the original settlers for Gloucester. People of all different races, ages, genders, times, all beside the path. Some of them look to be obviously dead, their heads caved in or blood splattered across the path. Others, it's harder to tell. They might be someone who's passed out? A drunk who's wandered here from town and could need help.
The moment anyone touches them, though, the body crumbles, something made of ash that simply wipes itself away. And in its place, it leaves memory. The person who touches the body will find themselves reliving the last horrified moments of this person's life. They will know precisely how and when this person died. Every death has some component of agony or fear. No one found passed quickly or painlessly.
Everyone dies, and it is never so kind a thing as they might have hoped. Never.

(cw: altered mental states, breathing difficulties, imprisonment, victim-blaming)
Repairs are going about as well as they can be at ADI; the building still bears the scars of last month's attack but day to day matters slump back toward the status quo now that the acute crisis has passed. For a few days it actually seems as though the press of unending needs and obligations has abated, like a massive crushing stone lifted from one's back to allow a gasp of breath, leaving workers and residents reeling in the exhausted aftermath.
It doesn't last, but when the pressure intensifies once more it takes on yet another new form. Things will seem to be back to normal when suddenly you realize that the room in which you find yourself is getting smaller–or perhaps the air has grown stale, perhaps that's why it's suddenly so hard to breathe. You're trapped in here, locked in, locked away. Windows seem to shrink and fortify into slitted openings too tight for escape; what might have been an ordinary office door is now a heavy metal thing fortified with deadbolts.
They've locked you in; they've decided that you're not to move about freely, that you're a danger to others. Are you a danger to others? You must be; you must have done something to deserve this. The question of who 'they' are is one without an answer, a nebulous sense of them, the ones who call the shots, the ones who must be looking out for everyone. They don't speak to you; there's no chance to plead your case, only this miserable, tiny cell and your own guilt over something you must have done. You hear them passing by your door at times, keys jangling, footsteps heavy, but there's no hope of aid from them.
None of it is real. The rooms don't shrink; the doors and windows don't change. To someone not caught up in the illusion, it will seem as though those caught in its grip have gone into hysterics over nothing at all, insisting that they're trapped when all they need to do is open the door.

(cw: monsters in the dark, altered mental states, semi-graphic description of injury)
When the crushing claustrophobia finally abates, this time seemingly for good, the shadow woman makes her first appearance. She is seen only in darkness at nighttime, silhouetted in a doorway or lurking in an underpass. Turn on the lights, and there's nothing there–it must have been a trick of the light, the mind making connections out of something seen from the corner of one's eye.
Turn off the lights, though, and there she is again.
She's patient at first, toying with her prey. Lights on, and you're safe. Lights off and the figure returns, still and staring and something you can almost convince yourself you've somehow imagined. But leave the lights on too long, play with the light switch too many times, or watch her too closely, and her patience has an end. When she finally moves, she's fast, charging across a darkened street or a darkened room, the only expression visible on her face is the inhuman light in her eyes, and there is nothing left except to run for the nearest patch of brightness in the night. Maybe you even get away–flee to the circle of sickly light under a lamppost and she must halt at the edge of the darkness, unable to follow. She might circle, waiting for you to make a run for it, or she might disappear back into the night. Will you chance a sprint to the next pool of light?
For those she catches, there is pain. There are rending claws that leave her mark, bleeding, on her victims–but the pain does not end in death. It ends in madness. You may descend into a state beyond thought, mind disappearing into a panicked fugue from which you will retain no memories. Or you may believe yourself to be still fighting off the creature of the night and legions like her, using your environment to protect yourself, to stave off attack.
Those unaffected will see what is truly happening: victims of the creature run rampant in frenzied efforts to bring more and more darkness to the nighttime city. Wild-eyed and unaware, they may start at something as simple as unscrewing a lightbulb, or engage in something as complex as cutting power to entire buildings. Regular citizens of Gloucester fall victim along with the people of ADI and sabotage runs rampant through the city, but it seems that above all else, ADI itself is the target of these attempts to turn out the lights. Panic begins to spread throughout the city as the attacks continue night after night.
- ARRIVAL (March 1 - 31): 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 Road We All Must Travel (March 1 - 31): The bodies found can be photographed, but they'll turn up blurred. There's nothing that can be gleaned about the bodies from a distance, only by moving close and touching them. The bodies can be anyone from any time and any place, even other worlds. Characters might even see non-human races represented. In every case, the body will disappear when touched and characters will pick up the final moments of the person's life. Players are welcome to make these final moments anything they want. The person could have died by mundane or supernatural means, but they will have died a painful or terrifying death in some way.
- Prisoners of Consciousness (March 4 - 12): Episodes in which characters believe themselves to be imprisoned will occur exclusively on ADI property and in the Flophouse. The hallucinations may last for minutes or hours, though characters are likely to perceive time as though they were imprisoned much longer. Characters not affected by the hallucination may help pull others out of it by grounding them in reality, but it is also possible for them to be drawn into the hallucination themselves if they become frightened.
- A Trick of the Dark (Nights of March 12 - 15) While people who have been caught by the apparition seem to focus their attacks on ADI property, the shadow woman herself never appears within ADI offices or apartments. She may sometimes appear in the Flophouse, and frequently appears outdoors, in darkened hallways of local businesses, and in the homes of locals. ADI housing curfew at 11:00 PM each night is still in effect; characters who stay out later may crash at HQ but will not be let into the apartments (they may also be able to get into the Flophouse…if its residents are kind enough to take them in). Characters caught by the shadow woman will experience confusion, terror, and compulsion to sabotage lighting, particularly in and around ADI property, until dawn of the next day. Characters who attempt to fight the shadow woman will find that she fights back (and that any scratch from her claws still causes the fugue state); if they manage to pin her down she will dissipate into shadows.

no subject
He will be embarrassed about it later. He just starts following the voice since his only option is to stay in the vent.
He's relieved when the grate comes into view. Jerry can likely see the teenager's gloved fingers poking out of the grate as he tries to just yank it up.
Peter quickly realizes he's lacking in amplified strength right now. He definitely rattles the grate very hard. Peter just sounds confused when he speaks again.]
...Normally this is easier?
no subject
Nice. I know a gang of raccoons that probably own a gun, those intrepid little bastards.
[ Not that there's anything little about them. Especially Rocco.
Once he makes it to the grate Jerry watches expectantly as gloved fingers grip the metal and attempt to pry it open. ]
Huh. [ "Normally"? This guy must get stuck in air vents a lot. ] Okay, let me try something. [ Jerry is just going to lean down and yank off his shoe. ]
I'm about to yeet this shoe to your freedom so uh, might wanna scoot back a bit!
uses this as an excuse to make peter say yeet
The teenager is realizing he probably needs to figure out where he is beyond 'vent'. That's going to come after he's freed. He's in full costume, so he can probably just lean into being Spider-Man to do something here.]
Yeet away. I'm hopefully out of yeet distance.
[If he's hit with a shoe, it wouldn't surprise him at all. His life is just like this.]
e x c e l l e n t
A moment goes by.
Then another.
Then Jerry throws his shoe as hard as he can at the grate, hoping to at least knock it loose. His throw is pretty strong! And his shoes are actually boots! Naturally, the boot bounced off the grate and got Jerry right in the head, knocking him clean on his ass with an "oof". Like, literally...he said "oof".
This doesn't deter him, though. Rubbing at the spot on his head that's probably going to have leave a mark, he looks back to the grate and calls out as if none of that just happened. ]
Kay, looks like it's still in there, but I probably loosened it for ya!
gotta acknowledge his suits eyes be freaky
The teenager inches forward, peering down out of the grate. His costumes large white eyes are probably incredibly unsettling peering through bars of a grate. He has to at least see if Jerry is alright given that fall and Oof.]
You okay down there? [The big white eyes of his suit blink and his attention shifts to Jerry. The seventeen year old does yank at the grate, relieved it gives with this pull.
He shifts and slides out of the grate, landing in the hallway. His red and costume is definitely showy.] Thanks for the help, I kind of- just fell into the vent? I was swinging around and was suddenly in there!
no subject
Still, he gives an emphatic thumbs up in response, pushing himself to his feet as Peter falls into the hallway.
The creepy has very quickly merged into "dude what", Jerry's brows rising comically high as he takes this all in. Okay, not a monster thing. Just a costumed dude.
With his boot in his hand, he gestures at Peter, spoken matter of fact like. ]
Not at all what I was expecting.
no subject
Confusion Meet Confusion. Expectations denied.]
Is it the lack of blue on the suit? People have a lot of opinions about the black and red for some reason. [He vaguely runs a hand across his suit out of habit.]
no subject
There's definitely something familiar about this, but no matter how deep down he digs he's got nothin'. ]
No way. Black and red is a timeless color combo. I wouldn't call that unexpected at all. Might be the eyes — how the hell did you blink those things?
no subject
[Totally logical, Jerry. Gosh.
Peter shrugs a little awkwardly, not sure how else to really explain. He's had people usually ask why he picked Spider-Man over anything else. Probably better if he doesn't go into detail about the lenses helping him filter light to a manageable level.] People on twitter were kind of complaining about the color choices, but, uh- I guess it doesn't matter.
no subject
[ Jerry leans forward a bit to squint at Peter's suit. Sorry buddy, talking about a techy suit is a surefire way to get Jerry into big excited child mode.
Not that he isn't usually...always there already. ]
That's friggin awesome. You said you were swinging around — you got a grappling hook built into that thing?
no subject
Though Jerry being enthused does make Peter loosen up a little. The lenses widen a little as he smiles under his suit. He gets a bit swept up in Jerry's enthusiasm and forgets he probably shouldn't be babbling about his suit to strangers. The last time he trusted a friendly stranger things had gone... badly.]
Yeah! In my prototype suits, I had goggles that changed with the movement of my eyes, but this suit can react more to my face.
Well, I'm Spider-Man, nice to meet you. [Thanks to Aunt May for ensuring manners stuck here.] So, it's not a grappling hook as much as webbing. I made the formula and the equipment to swing myself around.
no subject
Or don't take solace in that, really.
At any rate, Jerry is about to launch into an over-excited spiel about how he's been trying to make some kind of badass suit since he first picked up a wrench (to various results that mostly ended with explosions) until—]
—Wait a minute. Spider Man. Like...Spider Man? [ Looking over the costume once more, things are actually starting to click. Welcome to Jerry's world, sometimes it takes a minute for him to join you. ] No way!
no subject
I guess changing suits made it hard for people to recognize me. [This is a very polite cover for why Jerry didn't recognize him immediately.]
im so sorry for him
Nah, man. You must have done something with your hair. [ It's generally hard to tell if he's joking or not when he says things like that. ] Look, not to be that guy, but I'm gonna totally be that guy...
[ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He holds it up with a hopeful and (somehow, he manages) puppy eyed smile.
Yeah, he wants a selfie. ]
don't apologize, i love him
[He really should be over being so excited at people asking for selfies. Yet...
He isn't.
Peter, no.]
Oh! You're good! Selfies are good by me.