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Rhodos Mods ([personal profile] rhodosmods) wrote in [community profile] rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
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TDM #1

TDM #1: AUGUST
I. ARRIVAL
Upon arrival, characters awaken in one of the main plazas of the town, lying on the paving stones around a central fountain. It is a bright sunny day and very hot, so you'll quickly want to find some shade. A light breeze brings the scent of the sea, but there are no cries of sea birds to be heard.

The buildings of the plaza are all medieval stone construction, but they all have modern awnings and glass fronts. Tables out front display tourist wares: little plastic statuettes, postcards, t-shirts. Among these, it's easy to identify Greek lettering, Greek gods, photos of Athens and Crete. Predominant among the souvenirs are items marked with the name Rhodos.

But there are no vendors selling their wares. Even if characters wander into the shops, they are all empty as if their owners just stepped away for a moment. Lights are on, and some of the larger and nicer shops even have the whirr of air conditioning. Food stands waft the aroma of freshly grilled kebabs, and a gelato cart is cold to the touch and the ice cream inside is frosty and delicious.

The plaza where you arrive is set on a slope, and the direction of the sea breeze and the faint sound of waves against a shore indicates pretty strongly that down-slope is the direction of the sea. But looking down the slope from the main plaza, you can see an open archway in a tall stone wall, and beyond it is nothing but mist. Despite the clear sunny day in the plaza, the mist is a dense fog with barely three feet of visibility. If you enter it, you can see your own arms in front of you, but nothing beyond that. The breeze has gone still and the waves no longer sound so much like waves--the sound is warped through the mist so that it almost sounds like sobbing. After about five minutes of determined walking across what feels like flat ground with no other landmarks, you find yourself back at the archway.

Housing can easily be scavenged. Doors are unlocked and the interiors are clean and welcoming, beds freshly made, as if it is a hotel that's been prepared for you rather than anyone's personal residence. And yet, once you've settled upon a place to live, you start to find little signs that you have lived here all along. The photographs on the wall (which weren't there when you first arrived) depict you and your family and friends, even if you came from a world without photography. Upon arrival, you have only the clothing you are wearing, but within a day the closet begins to fill with familiar outfits from home, and within the first week you may find up to five of your own possessions around your new residence.

Note: Wardrobe is limited to what you can reasonably fit inside a non-walk-in apartment closet, what your character would reasonably wear and possess in canon, or what can be scavenged around town. There are two very small clothing boutiques where you can find most basics and a few cute outfits. For starting possessions two may be weapons or magical items, but you may have an additional three mundane items. All other personal items can only be obtained through regains or events.
II. SOUND AND LIGHT
The first few days in your new home are relatively uneventful. The days are hot and sunny and the nights are warm beneath a dazzling starry sky.

After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.

The play that is projected onto the wall features shadow puppets, colored lights, and canned soundtrack special effects like the clop of horses hooves or the burst of trumpets. There is no dialogue or narration, so the story can only be roughly pieced together: there is a king and a queen, then a betrayal that leads to the king's murder. Later, the king and the queen appear again, participating in a ritual which seems to involve human sacrifice, a war and a triumphal procession, and then another betrayal and the king is murdered again.

The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.

After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.

Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
III. INTO THE FOG
CONTENT WARNING: Cruelty and violence against (monster) dogs

After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.

The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.

While out on the streets of the town, characters will begin to encounter the monster dogs of Rhodos. The sound of a dragging chain precedes them, and then the hazy outline of a dog comes into view. It's walking oddly, however, with a sort of staggering limp, and the sound of the chain is underlaid by a low, feral growl. Furless gray skin peels away in patches to reveal bloody muscle. The heavy iron collar around the neck is studded with long black screws, the ends of which pierce the skin of the neck. Hazy eyes are clouded with decomposition, and yet that doesn't seem to prevent the dog from making its way straight toward you.

The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.

In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
IV. WAKING UP TO A NIGHTMARE
CONTENT WARNING: Blood imagery

On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.

As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.

You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.

When you make it out into the streets, you'll find that the entire world has changed. Heavy darkness fills the city, and no stars are visible in the sky. A few lights glow despite the lack of electricity, but they only provide a sickly, red-tinted light. Streets are slick with something that looks like blood, and the stone walls in many places have been transformed into metal or grate. Through the grate, you can catch glimpses of black metal hooks and gory, dripping meat that looks human in origin.

There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.

Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
V. THE BONFIRE
CONTENT WARNING: Body horror, immolation

Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.

A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.

The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.

Time passes. It feels like days, though there is no way to mark the passage of time. The Dark Figure continues to supervise the bonfire.

At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.

The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.

If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.

The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.

If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.

In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.

The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
SUMMARY
Arrival: August 1
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31

Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.

Test drive memes are considered game canon.

This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.

Lastly, we are in need of mods! We're most in need of help for processing apps and activity. If we aren't able to get some additional mods, we will have to place a cap on applications, and we're hoping we won't have to do that. If you're interested, please send us a message over on the mod contact page. We've gotten the mod volunteers we needed so we should be all clear to proceed without an applications cap. Thank you to everyone who showed interest!
babysitters: (122)

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
( Steve will take a stupid attempt at a joke. especially because she brings up something he's vaguely aware of. Shakespeare is a familiar term, even though Steve Harrington is most certainly not a Shakespeare kinda guy. he huffs a laugh, stained sad, at the mention. )

Nah, I think I'd react about the same to Shakespeare. I had to read it for English, once, barely made any sense. ( too much verily and thine and hark! it was a jumbled read, for sure, though... if Steve is perfectly real about it, he loved the romance parts. Romeo and Juliet being starcrossed lovers, together against all odds, was the only part of the play that made any sense. )

Uh... Steve. Hi. Cora. Cool. ( god, he's STILL crying! this is truly a nightmare. he wipes his face on his arm, and laughs again, still miserable but hoping to play off the weirdness as less heavy than it feels. ) What the hell. They should at least have tissues if this weird play is gonna make everybody goddamn miserable.
babysitters: (132)

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
( the girl doesn't introduce herself, just wanders into the shop like she's on a mission. Steve watches her go, before miserably pulling the shirt he's half into off again, so he can clean up a little better if she's successful. and it takes embarrassingly long to do so, long enough that Jackie can scout half the store, and come back with a cooler and nautical soap in tow. well, that isn't what Steve would have thought to do, for sure. he was just gonna put on this shirt and stay filthy for his continued snooping through the empty town.

but the idea of being less grimy is too tempting not to take, even if it is entirely bizarre a strange girl has made it her mission to make him a little less disgusting without so much as a question as to how he got that way.
) Okay, ( Steve agrees, feeling a little unbalanced. usually, you know, this is his gig. hyperfocusing on how somebody is, when there's bigger more important things to worry about.

weird. but not bad. a sponge bath isn't gonna get him entirely clean, though it should be enough to make him slightly less terrifying to behold. Steve carefully settles Eddie's vest on the counter before he creaks closer to Jackie and her cooler.
) I already ruined this shirt, I guess I can scrub down with this one and put on a clean one when I'm done. ( sorry, tourist trap tee. you didn't deserve to be doused in old blood and Upside Down grime. )
navcav: (that it's over for a bitch like u)

[personal profile] navcav 2022-08-15 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ gideon would be honored to be considered worthy of dustin-esque energy

actually she looks at him with an impressed expression, eyebrows shooting up. ]


Six kids? Damn. Blessings on your fertility, dude.

Oh, Harrow ain't a kid, she's only two years younger than me. [ from gideon's lofty elder age of 19 ] She's just a huge pain in my ass.

[ with absolutely sincerity, ]

What is an 'iced cream?' Also, you've got something on your neck, is that from a garrote?
seaboard: (⌜𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
You cannot frighten me, I promise.

[ She lowers her eyes as he sheds his robe. Not prying or peeking as he makes himself comfortable. Then pushes herself down until she's laying properly, curling onto her side.

It does not surprise her, particularly, that he doesn't seem quite sure what to do lying in a bed. The Deer-Striders often complained of the same, when they came to the isle for the first time. At least until they finally experienced winter and why it was not wise to not sleep outdoors or with little coverings. Why everyone should rug themselves tightly in many many layers. Though now she was have much the opposite problems. Every day here she felt she was going to melt away under the glare of the sun here.

So she tsks, watching him lay there like a stiff board. A little huff of laughter that is quiet, so quiet and she realises she cannot remember when she laughed at much of anything. It feels like a lost skill, and certainly, it rasps some. The scar on her throat had damaged her voice, torn at the only thing she ever had that was her own.

When he seems as settled as he is going to get, which seems barely at all. She curls a little closer, next to his shoulder - and fishes for a song she was still capable of. Not touching of course, not pushing anything but to lay there. Then she starts on the first note. The same kind of lullaby she has sung for her own children. Her own native tongue that she carves the words and tune with, high in her throat, but quiet because no longer could she carry the notes as she once did.
]
seaboard: (⌜𝙼𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
Certainly.

[ She doesn't doubt that it is possible.

The methods, however?
]

However, if this place is ruled as I suspect, then we shall not find it by trusting a road or door or any usual means of going one place to another.
seaboard: (⌜𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ Was it ever that simple with Spirits? Where had he been raised that these things simply went in a forward way?


... Maybe he was one of the children of the refugees, and had not had their learnings properly?

So she wet her lips.
]

They will, once they know. But it is a matter of how we tell them and request such. Even Spirits born of pain, usually wish to be left alone.
floresco: (pic#15373622)

arrival

[personal profile] floresco 2022-08-15 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ Halfway through the door Aerith's brought to an abrupt halt when someone speaks up from inside the room. ]

Oh! Hey! Sorry!

[ With an apologetic smile on her face she takes a step back before her gaze follows the strange woman's gesture and her focus is pulled towards the pictures, diverting her from her polite, hasty retreat. ]

Those were there when you got here?

[ Mystified enough to linger, Aerith stays where she is, eyes narrowing as she leans forward, studying the pictures, suddenly curious about what she'll find when she finds the right room.

Once she realizes how intently she's been staring, still awkwardly standing, blocking the doorway of a stranger's room she looks back to the other woman and gives her an apologetic smile.
]

Sorry, I don't mean to stare, I'm sure it's really nice to have your family waiting for you, it's just - this place. [ She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. ]

It's kind of, off, you know?

[ The way this place seems freshly abandoned, and how they all just arrived here so unexpectedly, however sunny it is outside, it's still weird. ]
katharma: (Default)

[personal profile] katharma 2022-08-15 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ were this a few months ago, she might be more inclined to introduce herself and explain what she's gonna do, but she's just spent the better part of a year in the wilderness where the consequences have gotten increasingly dire. jackie had never really fully adapted to being out there, but she can recognize when wounds need cleaning and treatment to lower the risk of infection. cleaning and helping bandage had been something she could do, so she'd made sure to learn it well.

the guy doesn't seem put off by her directness, anyway, and jackie offers him a smile that she hopes is reassuring as she starts to prepare what she needs. the washcloth is wrapped in plastic that requires some fiddling to get off, but one it is she soaks it with water from one of the bottles and starts rubbing soap into it. she nods to him while she waits for it to lather. ]


Okay. [ makes sense, and they're probably better off discarding the cloth once it gets too dirty to clean than trying to wash it. ] What did that to you, anyway?
babysitters: (YIUm6sR)

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 12:48 am (UTC)(link)
( they never have time to feel these things, the soul sucking emotional exhaustion and bone-deep terror, until after it's all over. because letting it hit, letting it sink in, letting themselves really be fucked up about things, just means they won't be ready when the next punch comes. first Upside Down experience, wasn't Steve's shining moment. he still remembers falling into the panic spiral, pacing in useless circles, and trying to call the cops on a faceless monster with a hundred terrifying teeth. he's... well, is it weird to say he's getting used to it? it is weird, how can he get used to being interrogated by Russians or flesh monsters or being dragged through portals by a tentacle?

it's not that Steve expects the nonsense that happens to him, it's just that he can expect some kind of nonsense will. so, knowing it'll happen, knowing that if he doesn't keep moving and keep rolling with the (sometimes very literal punches), then maybe he won't get up from the next one. maybe they still don't have time for this, because it's not like they're safe. they're at least uncertain, a place they don't know, entirely too removed from the battle they'd just been fighting.

it's just... it's just, going from with her to gone? really fucked up his mettle, his ability to just keep moving. Steve showed up here terrified, uncertain if Nancy had ever woken up. that he was Vecna'd right along side her, and there was nothing either of them could do. wandering empty streets had felt crushing, either trapped in his head or dragged into some new bizarre happenstance, because he knew so absolutely Nancy was in immediate, imminent danger, and he wasn't there when she needed him.

so, sue him. Steve needs a little reassurance right now. does it hurt? objectively yes, though the adrenaline of finding her does push past the pain. way more important to focus on the fact she's here, she's real. Nancy hugs him back and Steve isn't in the state of mind to overthink that, just overwhelmed by the fact she's okay. he can worry about overstepping later, apologize later, second guess what it means, that she hugged him back, later. because right now he feels like he needs this contact. more than he needs a clean shirt for sure.
)

We're okay, ( Steve repeats, a rusty laugh escaping the cage of his lungs. they are, and they aren't. they get a little less okay every day, don't they? but, functionally, they're walking and breathing and talking. could be so much worse. ) You're okay. You're good. ( good enough to tolerate what must be the world's grossest hug, to be fair. his hands slip from the small of her back to land at her hips as it sinks in exactly how close they are, and how... not wearing a shirt he is. oh, yeah, and still pretty sore, on the bat snack department. he should... yup. let her go. Steve has to do it one hand at a time, like his body hasn't quite caught up to the logic of his brain. )

Sorry, I just... ( nope, he'll come back to that sorry later, it just isn't the most pressing concern now. and he'll be able to collect his thoughts better later, anyway. ) You think this is some Vecna thing? Why would he shunt us off to an empty beach town we've never heard of? Is it some kinda clue? ( if it is, it is a bizarre clue. this is way over Steve's head. but there's gotta be some reason they're here, right? )
babysitters: (98)

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 12:57 am (UTC)(link)
( that's... so not what he meant. Steve grimaces around his boat of ice cream, mid lick like a goddamn dog. ) No, they're not... I'm a babysitter, I meant. ( they are not his flesh and blood children, that's... he's only 20, does he really look like he could have pumped out 6 kids??!?!?! that's his longterm goal, 6 little nuggets, but emphasis on longterm. he sure ain't there yet! )

You know. Ice cream? ( Steve repeats, as if that clarifies anything. because who the hell doesn't know what ice cream is??? that's just ridiculous. almost as ridiculous as babysitting someone only two years younger than you. ) So is this some kinda... D&D thing, or what? It's a... ( Steve snaps his fingers, trying to help his sore brain in the recall department. ) Escort. Escort mission. Right?

( Steve doesn't really wanna talk about why he's bruised, so he deflects masterfully. ) What the fuck is a garrote?
chaz: (come gather round)

Charles Vane | Black Sails

[personal profile] chaz 2022-08-15 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
I. A R R I V A L
[vane's made a home for himself in one of the more sizable empty homes near the center of town, chosen after it became clear that whatever the sound of waves really was, it wasn't the ocean. although he's been braced to have to defend his holding, it's been hard not to enjoy the familiar salt-worn leather and cloth showing up in his closet, or the walls slowly disappearing under rich tapestries and multicolored fabrics from all manner of nations that sailed and did trade in the 1700s Caribbean.

If there's any sign of a struggle at all, it's some scuff marks, broken glass, shards of wood, a broken frame. there are no pictures on the walls. in any case, he's not often there, spending a lot of time lurking along the point of no return in the fog.]


Who are you?!

II. S O U N D AND L I G H T
[he's mostly stumbled across the theater during his general explorations, and sticks around to see if it'll shine any light on the who, what, and why of this place. after a period of being extremely disruptive, out of a combination of wanting to provoke some puppetmaster out of hiding and sheer petulance, he eventually quiets down, and soon enough he's watching in silence. like a spell's been cast.

it's unclear who he's talking to when he does speak up - maybe just to himself.]


That's Nassau. She did it to us.

III. INTO THE F O G
[out of sheer disbelief, he allowed one dog to get close enough to snap at him. since that's an offense that can't go unpunished and these are clearly something straight out of hell anyway, you might come across vane trying to stab/and or choke a corpse dog to death with its own chain. maybe best to leave him to it; he's clearly got the situation handled.]

IV. WAKING UP TO A N I G H T M A R E
[if you happen to catch a glimpse of his Manifestation, it'll look a little worse for the wear owing to a close-range shot to the face and stab wounds in lethal places. the fact that it took all that and is still moving is what made him choose to cut his losses and make a run for it; the last time he blindly pursued a hallucination, he barely escaped with his life.

he put some distance between himself and his Manifestation pretty easily, and now he's trying to find the safest location - and anything he can use to defend himself.]


You! Do you have a weapon?!

V. THE B O N F I R E
[vane never hesitates to resort to violence, but he's not incapable of learning from a loss either. by the time the Dark Figure shows up, his strategy has become observance - and if you're planning to attempt an attack, he's waiting to see what happens to you for it. he stays close enough to the bonfire to have a clear view, but not so close that he'd be in the front row if things get worse.

not that it can get much worse. if someone actually had luck attacking the Dark Figure, he might decide to help, but whatever that thing is on the frame shouldn't be alive. tossing it onto the fire would be preferable to such a hideous state of existence. so don't expect him to lend a hand if you can't handle the screams.

when he coughs, it turns harsh quickly, splattering through his fingers and onto his shirt. he tries to smear the worst of it away, and keeps trying when it becomes clear that the blood is turning into letters... although it's not clear if he can tell what they're saying or not.

anyone else will be able to see that it's a name:

EDWARD TEACH]


VI. W I L D C A R D
[feel free to hit me up with a different idea, or PM me if you want to work smth else out. call me meg.]
Edited 2022-08-15 01:09 (UTC)
guitarpicks: (nyAgXty)

03.

[personal profile] guitarpicks 2022-08-15 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ there's safety in numbers, in sticking close to one another. eddie's not exactly a team player, more loner and at the outskirts of a crowd, but he's not dumb.

not after what he saw back home and not after the fucking dogs. they'd seemed harmless at first and then vicious, terrifying. worse than the bats. eddie's asleep, sleeping actually for the first time in weeks when alina's voice jolts him, before she's tugging at him, and he sees that thing in the doorway.

it's not alone, there's a demo-bat or two trying to crawl in through the doorway under it. which, wow, what a fucking awful combination. ]
What the fuck??? What the fuck is that?!!

[ eddie doesn't want to know. actually. he reaches for alina's wrist, like he was the one who had the idea to get out. looks around and then spots the window, can't remember what floor they're on at the moment. jesus h. christ. ] Fuck. We have to go out the window.
seaboard: (⌜𝚆𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ She peers back out into the street, the noises, the screams, that echo from down the long corridors. Somehow, they felt even emptier. Even with the chaos. ]

Yes. I think so. I was cut off, the creatures -

[ She shakes her head. It did not bear speaking of, but he certainly no doubt, could work out the rest about why she had to turn tail and flee. ]
laststoryteller: (Default)

[personal profile] laststoryteller 2022-08-15 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
What if it is that good.

[ He takes his first spoonful and — ]

Yes. Happy to report its worth it.

[ He’s playing, of course; humming in thought, he looks skyward. ]

That aside, I think we should look for other people or at least… Something to help us get back home.
Edited 2022-08-15 01:54 (UTC)
somatosensory: ꜱᴏʟᴀʀᴀɴ (Default)

[personal profile] somatosensory 2022-08-15 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
( the blade of his knife digs into the dog's neck joint.

it's a good knife. solid. better, frankly, than what he'd expected given the source. the blade doesn't splinter or break as he digs it into the rotting sinew and starts sawing.

but this isn't a normal dog. nothing about this place seems to be normal, and the only thing he can think of that'll take this thing completely out of action would be if he managed to get its head off.

or as near as possible. )
seaboard: (⌜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it. The horrible thought festers like a choking, drowning fear. All the things she has done. All the things she has not. Death is surely all she deserves and will continue to deserve.

But -

She never would get to hold her children, one last time.

And the thought cuts like ice. Welling in the back of her throat. She was a miserable mother, she knows, but she loved her children so fiercely.

So with a shaking hand, she does what the woman asks, to hold onto that thought. To hold onto the hand that is offered to her. Wrapping her fingers tightly and let herself be pulled up to her feet.
]
guitarpicks: (Default)

2.

[personal profile] guitarpicks 2022-08-15 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
[ eddie doesn't hear him clearly at first, too lost at staring down at the stage. there's something about the play that he can't place, that tugs at uncomfortable parts and soft pieces that he'd like to keep buried and not think about.

some things are better left in the past, where berating voices can't be more than distant memories.

he clears his throat, lifts a hand to wipe at his cheek because eddie has been crying. ]
Who's Gorg? [ easier than letting anything on the tip of his own tongue slip through. ] And hey. They're not here, man, so they're better off than we are.
seaboard: (⌜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝⌟)

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
... I am sorry for it. For what you lost. That she should be so unhappy in her soul...

[ She'd been Queen long enough, to know these things happened. Stood on those trials beside her brother as they listened to a family explain how it had all gone terribly, terribly wrong. There was no great evil, no great triumph. Just the silence left afterwards, where something everyone had tried their best for, ended badly. ]
babysitters: (41)

sound and light

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, I dunno. A couple times. ( Steve isn't looking at the stranger, still staring with a baffled twist to his brows at the now-empty amphitheater. he has seen it a few times, it doesn't seem to make any more sense to him the second (and third... it's his third time) around. in fact it feels like the story isn't even the same as it was last time, and that can't be right. could it?

he should really stop watching the damn thing, because every time it ends Steve just feels... weird. after. the first time he'd cried non-stop until some stranger was forced to hug him, it was so horrifically embarrassing. this time around he's not teary, though feeling homesick isn't a big improvement. it's not the most helpful to be dwelling on home and Hawkins when he's stuck in a place that isn't there, and yet his thoughts seem stuck there, anyway.

doesn't help when he turns and sees no other than Chrissy Cunningham, familiar strawberry blonde ponytail and all. he's never seen her cry, and it's miserable. the moment doesn't feel real. it isn't the first moment in Rhodos that doesn't feel like it could be real, to be fair.
) Chrissy? ( Steve asks, and his voice is a mix of panic and guilt, which won't make any goddamn sense to Chrissy. makes perfect sense to Steve, even though realistically he didn't know anything until it was too late, and she was already gone. )
guitarpicks: (Default)

cw; vomit, mention of drug use (sorry forgot to cw my first one!!)

[personal profile] guitarpicks 2022-08-15 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ eddie groans because for a moment, for one sweet moment, he'd thought he would be fine. no puking on anyone. but eddie's not exactly living the sort of life where luck's on his side. ]

Sorry. Sorry, man. [ he says it after he's done heaving. he looks less green then, more like a put together person. ] I don't know what-- why I feel awful. [ eddie's not used to world travel, to being in different worlds.

he's gone from hawkins to the upside down, sure, but that was one fucked up version of the other thing. not exactly waking up in sunny paradise next to strangers. he spits out what's left in his mouth, wipes a hand over his face. ]
Define okay? [ he looks up at peter, pushes himself up so he's sitting not next to the puke. ] Because I've kinda had a fucking rollercoaster of a week where I almost got eaten by demon bats without all... this.. [ he waves his hand around, like that'll explain it.

but that has him looking around and toward the shops peter pointed out. ]
Water sounds good. I need to wash my mouth out. Maybe they have toothpaste or something too.

Sorry about your boots. Really. I normally don't puke unless I've taken something really fucked up and I'm pretty sure it wasn't that. [ but with that eddie pushes himself up to his feet, sways but steadies himself. he's fine. totally good to walk. totally rambling though. ]
seaboard: (⌜𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎⌟)

perfect!

[personal profile] seaboard 2022-08-15 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ The shattered pieces of glass of the picture frame litter across the floor, some against the hem of her long skirts, others strewn about in the wild way she had broken them. Her shoulders shuddered as she tried to catch her breath from her outburst.

Cradling her bloodied fingers, she drew them in, splattering little red drops across her apron. Words escape her, as she shakes her head. What happened, is she okay, it cannot be explained in a word, and she is tired. She is so tired.
]

It does not matter.

[ Because all that she had done - there he was. That image that was too clear to be a painting, but she lacked any other word. Her brother. He smiling, beautiful brother, with his fierce eyes and midnight black hair, looking up at them from his picture, like he knew a secret about all the world they never could. ]

Burn it. I do not care how. I wish it gone.
babysitters: (89tvnQE)

into the fog

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-08-15 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
( Steve doesn't feel sympathy for monsters, usually. the dogs are goddamn evil and one took a hunk out of his calf, he's not gonna try and insist to people to not murder the dogs, because they're horrible. he refuses to think of Dustin and D'Artagnan, because he... well, he just isn't in the headspace to think about that, actually. he's armed with a nailed bat and he's used it on some of the fuckers, does not in the remotest feel bad about it.

still... there's something messed up about a giant man with huge swords stomping something that sounds like a dog to death. Steve grimaces despite himself, even though it's objectively better to have one less of those things. probably he does not want to be spotted by this guy, and it is already too late. a bag? what?

Steve does have a bag, actually. a backpack, and it's stocked full of food that seems like it'll keep with all the power out. and thusly, he's not at all inclined to give it to a stranger that just made a game of stomping a monster dog to death, actually.
)

No way, man. Get your own. ( Steve is a little freaked, but, he doesn't have any reason to think the guy is gonna stomp him to death, so... he's gonna say no, he is keeping his backpack. he's gotta ask, though, ) Whadda need one for, anyhow?
pilgrimages: (Default)

[personal profile] pilgrimages 2022-08-15 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
Sure. Of course. Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

[ she gives up on the glass, then. sets the pile she has gathered aside in favor of the picture itself. her fingers linger on the face in the image. he's handsome, but no one that she recognizes. it's certainly not startling or grotesque.

her head tilts as she stands, picture in hand.
]

Do you know him?
pilgrimages: (Default)

[personal profile] pilgrimages 2022-08-15 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ blood sprays. erupts towards her, stains the sandals and the sundress. some of it gets in her mouth. it tastes like iron and bile. she jumps, startled, but she cannot stay frozen long.

there is, after all, the second dog.

when it comes for her, she holds the chain up — that it might bite the chain instead of her body. her shoulders rattle as it lunges at her again, trying to get through the chain.
]
guitarpicks: (nyAgXty)

waking up to a nightmare (ish?)

[personal profile] guitarpicks 2022-08-15 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ sleep has been an illusion since showing up in paradise. eddie's not getting much of it at all, really. when he does, it's because he's huddled close to someone and they're looking out for each other.

finding chrissy cunningham here, of all people, had been a test of eddie's mental strength. he'd watched her die, had run. he always runs. and now she's here in this fucked up hell with him but at least it's not the upside down, he thinks. except, except it kind of is worse. eddie's asleep when he hears chrissy scream, bolt out of bed. he hears what sounds like a woman's voice and then the shrill cry of demo-bats not long after. which, okay, not good. not good at all. that has eddie bolting up too. ]


Chrissy! Wait up!! [ i don't like this..

but she's gone and eddie almost doesn't have time to grab the spear he keeps next to the bed before running after her, jumping out the window. jesus h. christ.

chrissy's fast though. she's an athlete and eddie's a stoner, a smoker, and not in the best of shape so he lags behind, calling her name. she doesn't stop until she runs into something and eddie's almost grateful for it, though the voices and screaming are closing in on them too. he hears her scream, is so glad she can scream this time as much as it hurts to hear it, and then reaches for her shoulder. which is the wrong move. chrissy claims, eddie falls back on his ass. ]
Chrissy! Chrissy, it's me. It's Eddie. [ he pushes himself up, tentatively reaches out again. ] Chrissy, we can't stay here.