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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!
shurajodo: (⦁ 02 💀)

gara ukai. | handead anthem.

[personal profile] shurajodo 2022-08-11 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)

01. ) ARRIVAL

//////////////////////////////// TOWN / CW: RAW MEAT EATING ////
Food's all cooked.

( He likes it better raw, but this'll have to do. Gara is an odd figure dressed in odd clothes, standing near a kebab cart with his mask up. Expression inscrutable through the mask and hood he has drawn up, he only waits another beat before he grabs one.

Then he pulls the mask down and tears into it.
)

Tch. Damn Alivers.

02. ) SOUND AND LIGHT

//////////////////////////////// THEATER ////
( Fuck this.

Tears stream from Gara's reddened eyes, and he thanks his good sense to keep the mask and hood outfit on. It's better that way.

He beats a fist against his thigh, pitching forward, trying his best to keep the sobs quiet.
)

Kakeru ... !!

03. ) NIGHTMARE

//////////////////////////////// TOWN / CW: GORE, ZOMBIES ////
( Gara wants to say "this is more like it", but his heart wouldn't be in it entirely. No, as much as he likes blood and gore and hellish landscapes, actually being in one is something else entirely.

He laughs mirthlessly, catching his breath after outrunning one of the dogs. Is there anywhere he can really catch his breath?

Looks unlikely.
)

04. ) THE BONFIRE

//////////////////////////////// TOWN ////
'I wasn't there when I should have been'.

( He says it quietly but his voice is steady, despite the shaking of his hands. Kicks dirt over the bloody words. )

Y'fuckin' happy?! I said it out loud!! Get it the fuck away!!
shurajodo: (⦁ 02 💀)

001 ( a ).

[personal profile] shurajodo 2022-08-11 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)
What is it? I ain't gonna start smoking unless it's somethin' distracting.

( Gara eyes the joint, eyes Eddie. Sure, fuck it; he's the type of guy to lose to impulse often, so why not?

He considers what to trade.
)

What d'you consider useful, huh?
jetboot: (pic#15860577)

cw - vomit

[personal profile] jetboot 2022-08-11 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
That's— ( "disgusting" is what peter starts to say, scrambling to get to his feet before the contents of eddie's stomach decide to say hello to both him and the ground between them. he half-succeeds, not quite managing to step away in time, but—

he inhales.

pauses.

it's fine.

given the heat, given the presumed dehydration, given the fact that they'd probably been given something to knock them out, what else did he expect? even if it wasn't something ingestible, telepathy and general mental coercion isn't always gentle or easy to swallow (ha.) )


—it. ( is what he settles on, tone carefully neutral and edging towards distracted. it's still fucking disgusting, thank you very much, he didn't really want to be spending his morning (his morning, regardless of the actual time of day) dodging vomit just after waking up and before he's consumed anything that resembles coffee. ) Better out than in. ( he adds, attention shifting away from eddie and towards their surroundings.

it looks like earth, he guesses, but it's no part of earth he's ever been to — not, of course, that that's ruling out much of the planet.

running a hand through his hair — blonde, dishevelled and damp with sweat — peter tries to work out how long it would have taken to get him from (the former location of) knowhere to earth, before deciding the answer's something along the lines of too flarking long and directing his focus back to eddie. )


You doing okay, kid? ( peter crouches next to eddie — pointedly not in front of, just in case he spews again — and gestures in the direction of buildings that he thinks are shops. ) We can get some water over there, ( probably, but he keeps that to himself. ) And it's out of the sun.

( he lifts a hand to shield his eyes, rocking back onto his heels. ) But before we do that, I'm gonna—. ( he gestures vaguely at the fountain, a brief silence falling between them. ) Wash my boots.
riflestock: (Default)

ethan winters | resident evil village

[personal profile] riflestock 2022-08-11 02:16 pm (UTC)(link)
ARRIVAL.

[ so this is arguably better than a monster-infested winter fairy tale hellscape or a mold-infested swamp hellscape, but it's still not the sweet embrace of death or whatever, so ethan can't really kick up much enthusiasm for it. he was expecting a lot more nothing out of his afterlife and this? frankly? a big disappointment, because it's still something he has to do when he would much rather fall down on the ground and never move again. it's disrespectful, really. he'd lodge a complaint if there was anyone to complain to.

he wanders around without much intent, still blood-streaked and shell-shocked, one hand held close to his chest as if injured, which is weird because that hand looks totally fine. it's his other hand that's visibly bandaged and bloody and clearly recently missing some fingers.

he comes back again and again to the mist, wandering in and getting spat out and wandering back in. surely one of these times something different will happen. ]



SOUND AND LIGHT.

[ AGAIN WITH THE PUPPETS u g h

ethan isn't crying, because [redacted] can't cry, but he does watch the whole thing blankly and then remark aloud, ]


My wife was a puppet once. Sort of. More like a mannequin.


INTO THE FOG.

[ awesome cool cool cool this is really more fitting to his expectations. rot! rot everywhere! how nostalgic. he's still got his trusty knife, at least, although it's pretty shitty that he's not got his sniper rifle at hand anymore. or that tank. that was a cool tank and he misses it daily.

ah, at hand. he has to make hand jokes now.

still filled with a certain sense of he's already done this, thanks, and shouldn't have to do it again, not that anyone has ever asked his opinion about repetition, he's out in the fog. why? a great fucking question that he would not be able to answer. maybe he's looking for someone in the fog. ]



WILDCARD.

[ hit me if you want one of the other options or something else! ]
Edited 2022-08-11 14:26 (UTC)
jetboot: (pic#15860545)

[personal profile] jetboot 2022-08-11 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Nope. ( a beat; a sidelong glance, almost as if he catches himself, and he adds: ) Your Highness.

( he doesn't add anything, not immediately. instead, he swivels on the spot, making a mental note of their surroundings. it's not that it's unlike anywhere he's ever been, because he's definitely been to places that are similar, but this specific place? nah. not a chance. )

Earth, maybe. ( he offers, pointing towards some of the restaurants and buildings a short distance from the two of them. ) Cyprus? ( he half-suggests before immediately adding: ) Greece? ( punctuated by a shrug. ) The Mediterranean.

( or a very good (or maybe very bad, who knows) impression of it.

peter's never been to greece, has barely — remarkably — travelled outside of the states whenever he's ended up back on earth, but he can place the language. what he can place less solidly are two things:
1. how he ended up there from the location-in-space-formerly-known-as knowhere,

and
2. why it's so quiet.

there are no animals to speak of, no birds in the sky, no cats, no dogs, no other humans or non-humans milling around. it's like they've been plucked from their lives and dumped in the middle of what should be a fantastically quiet island vacation, but just manages to be really unsettling instead.

he looks back at her. )
I'm going to guess it's a bit closer to the equator than you're used to being.
whomthebelltolls: (That it's me that has all the control?)

Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower | Bloodborne

[personal profile] whomthebelltolls 2022-08-11 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[1: Arrival]

[Maria is many things, but ready for the heat of a Mediterranean summer, she is not. Beyond that, she is very pale, and burns easily. So it's little surprise that the heat wakes her quickly, and through the disorientation of waking in a different place than she last remembered, she makes for a nearby shop, almost immediately. Her stomach churns with the scent of the sea, but she does not retch.

The heavy leather and thick cloth does her no favors in the sun - she's dressed more for what looks like a cold, rainy autumn than anything else, and even through the short jump up and jaunt into a nearby building, she can feel herself begin to sweat. Luckily, the shop is significantly cooler on the inside than the out; the sort of immediate drop in temperature that gels sweat on the skin, and she can feel some of her clothing sticking.

That matters not, with the way she draws herself up to her full height (and it is impressive - the woman has to be at least six and a half feet, but likely more, standing head and shoulders above the majority of people), and looks around, it's clear she's on the highest of alerts.

Given that she has a sword strapped to her hip on one side and what appears to be an antique flintlock pistol that very much matches her otherwise somewhere-between-18th-and-19th-century garb on the other, it may take a brave sort to approach her. On the plus side, while she is clearly wary of everything happening, she is not immediately hostile. Instead, there's simply a cold, steady gaze awaiting anyone who comes into the shop, before she resumes investigating.

Which she does after assessing any immediate threats by picking up a cheap plastic souvenir landmark, and turning it over in her hands.
]

[2: Sound and Light]

[It's not that she really cares for the shadow play, but the opportunity to explore a bit more beyond the very limited and small confines of the town center is interesting to her. She goes one time, cautiously stepping outside to investigate the amphitheater.

To that end, she's only sort of watching the play. The idea of a royal betrayal does catch a passing interest, if only for it being one of the few familiar sights. Yet, she stays until the end, trying to figure out if it is the king that keeps getting resurrected, or the one shadow is a stand-in for multiple figures.

Therefore... she turns to whomever is close to her. She's probably become rather known for being quiet and taciturn, so that she seems candid when she speaks may come as a surprise to some.
] ... An interesting play. I think my relatives at home would like to watch it - but they always did have a soft spot for whimsical things. Anything to satiate their capricious moods. It would need to be more than just this to stick around for very long, though - very little could hold their attention for long. The tides changed on their interests swiftly.

[Still, for as down on her relatives as she seems to be, there is an air of nostalgia to the way she speaks.]

[3: Into the Fog]

[Fog is not unusual in Yharnam, but the smell of smoke is. As with just about anything in this town already fraying her nerves, Maria is on the highest of alerts as it rolls in, and she dons her coat again. The heat is secondary to the fact she feels the need for protection.

Her instincts prove to be right, when the dogs stagger into view, and the other things which don't quite manifest fully in the fog pass by, startling her nearly every time.

Dogs, however, are both easy and difficult to deal with. They're quick on their feet and very aggressive, which presents a problem, but Maria has fought her fair share of Huntsmen's dogs that have feasted too heavily on Beast Blood and ceased obeying their masters. They pose little threat to her.

Except the one that just passed her wasn't going to attack her, and it's not until she flays its throat open, so hard and sudden and violent that the collar on it is torn partially off (and partially through the neck) that she realizes there's another figure in the fog. One that looks distinctly more human.

She raises an eyebrow.
] It seems we'll have to be wary of an ambush in this fog.

[4: Waking up to a Nightmare aka her entire unlife]

[Waking up to claws descending upon her is probably in her top three of most unpleasant experiences - and also high on her list of things she feared as a Hunter. She barely has time to contemplate the blood before she's on her feet, pushing past the pallid Beast (white fur, white skin) with its bleeding eyes (many, many eyes) and sloshing head (wobbling a bit like an overfilled water balloon). It screams, but though the sound is animalistic, the voice is unmistakably human, like a person imitating monster noises. No words, only screeches. Its maw is filled with rows of teeth, like a shark.

As she is a Hunter, she first attempts attacking it, but in the narrow rooms and hallways of the apartments, she finds space to be at a premium - and herself to be at a distinct disadvantage.

So off she goes in a bloodstained but very frilly shirt and trousers through the halls, and finds herself blocked by another Manifestation trying to make its way into an apartment. With little choice, she turns back to the Beast pursuing her, and attempts to attack it, but finds the blow landing and doing little more than causing it to knock her away, and nearly her swords out of her hands.

So, instead, she gets a little creative, ducking beyond the second Manifestation, and putting it between her and the one pursuing her, then praying that it won't turn on her, too.

It doesn't, but now there's two Manifestations in the hallway, and whoever is stuck in that apartment? Well...
]

Get out, move, this way!

[Her voice is quite soft, but the commanding tone is very sharp and immediate. Maybe if the two Manifestations get caught on each other, they'll be afforded a bit of extra time to escape.]

[5: The Bonfire]

[After everything that's happened, the fire is a bit of a reprieve. The dogs don't seem to follow, which is somewhat nice; Beasts continue to fear fire, but she hasn't seen that weird Beast that attacked her in some hours, so she can't test if larger Beasts, or ones that look like hybrids of Great Ones share the same fear.

Then, humanoid figures appear, bearing another. She does not interfere, but watches, passively, until the show is over. It matters not if someone else attacks the handmaidens, she won't join in.

Tasting her own blood at the back of her mouth is not unusual for Maria, but as it wells up in her throat and causes her to spit it out or choke, she quickly looks down, patting at herself, her throat (and the scar there), to see if any wounds may have reopened, or she got attacked while mesmerized by the procession.

No, that's not it.

And, in fact, the blood seems to seep together, to crystallize on her chest. Maria is used to her blood doing strange things, and though she hasn't been able to control anything it does in this place since she arrived, she's more fascinated by what the blood is trying to do as it hardens into damp, glimmering crystal letters.

Then, she's horrified.


The Massacre

That's all it says. But to Maria, it says everything, and though she is naturally very pale, she looks even worse for ware in the dancing firelight.]

[6: Wildcard!]

[Hit me with anything, or we can hash something out!
sunmon: (pic#15392813)

alina starkov (shadow and bone)

[personal profile] sunmon 2022-08-11 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)
01. look at this photograph

[ alina starkov doesn't cry in front of people. it's the first rule of being a war orphan. you keep it to yourself because no one else gives a damn, and if they do, it's only so they can attack you with it.

when the tears come, she's tucked between rows of public library shelves, gathered on the floor with her knees to her chest, clutching a wood and glass frame holding the picture. she'd needed air when she'd found it. needed to walk, to get away from that strange place she'd been sleeping. but she is grisha, and more than that, she is the sun summoner. she knows better than to leave something as valuable as herself out in the open. so she hadn't found a spot amongst trees to cry in, or the fountain in the empty square. she'd found a cubby in the library.

mal's face is smiling back at her. it's wonderful and impossible and painful. he's got his arm wrapped around her like he always used to do, pulling her in so that someone could capture this moment in time. they look ... happy. it's hard to imagine that. does she remember it that way? being happy? it feels too far away now too be sure.

the more she thinks of it, the louder her sobs become until she presses her forehead down against her knees because she can't keep her eyes open to look at the picture anymore.
]


02. let slip the dogs

[ the fog draws her into the streets. or more accurately, the way it had rotted the stolen bread and cheese on the countertop of the home she squatted in. alina walks slowly, hand ahead of her, trying to reach for something through the fog.

scraaaaape.

she stops.
]

Hello? [ fear chokes her voice. ] Is someone there?

[ what a miracle that would be. she tries to call for the light again. to summon it into her hand, to somehow banish the dense fog, but it doesn't come. it's far away like the sun, a distant warmth, and it's just like it had been in baghra's hut. exhausting. she shakes her hands like that will make them work, but nothing comes.

well, nothing comes from her.

a creature lunges at her from the dark and she yelps, twisting and running. what is in the other direction? she can't remember. can't seem to keep herself oriented in this strange place now that the fog is everywhere. paving stones are under her feet, but they stretch all over the town. a fountain emerges from the fog in front of her too late to dodge. she smacks into it, spills into the water.

or maybe it's not the fountain she hits. maybe it's you. but the dog is advancing, and alina is scrabbling to get away from it.
]

03. darkness manifests (assumed cr)

[ it's smarter to stay together.

in the fog, alina had come to that agreement with someone. they will stay in her house or theirs together, close, so that if the dogs come, they have a better chance. she sleeps resolutely with her back to them, straining at the edge of the wide bed, trying not to listen to their breathing. even her socks are still on her feet.

but it's not her companion who wakes her, in the end. it's the blood. and there, in the doorway, a volcra, bewinged and screeching, claws splintering wood and scraping stone.

alina doesn't scream. she scrambles over her companion on the bed, tugging at them, trying to wake them if they aren't already.
]

We have to go. We have to go. [ because the volcra isn't alone. ]

04. wildcard

[ feel free to hit me up [plurk.com profile] protects if you want something different or more specific. assumed cr is great and necessary for prompt 3, and is also welcome for wildcard text tags which i love! ]
Edited 2022-08-11 16:19 (UTC)
telepathy: (pic#15584784)

[personal profile] telepathy 2022-08-11 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
What happens if characters attempt to subdue/leash the dogs?
37stitches: (008)

Alistair "Abby" Fontaine | Original | OTA

[personal profile] 37stitches 2022-08-11 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Arrival

[ Something is wrong here. It’s hard to put it into words when he can’t reach out and touch the magic, when his charms feel dead and cool against his skin — nothing but beads and braided string, now. Even the cats are gone and that hurts most of all, that he doesn’t have a line of cats following him to and fro.

He hopes they’re okay, back home.

Abby fidgets as he picks through an empty store, wondering at the lack of dust. He jumps whenever he notices he has company, shying back and ducking his head. ]


Think — mhmm. Think they have cigarettes?

[ He could really, really use a cigarette right now. ]

Sound and Light:
[cw: drug addition, possible mention of gore and murder
]

[ For lack of a better idea, Abby attends all the performances. There’s something important here, something about the repetition and subtly changing patterns that he can’t quite grasp but thinks he needs to. He can’t call his magic to him no matter how hard he tries but the impulse is there even as his hands twitch and shake from the lack — of power, of a cigarette, of something to dull it down.

Sometimes, he really misses heroin.

Tonight, he has a large, black cat clutched in his arms. The cat purrs — perhaps louder than she ought to, if you know normal cats. Perhaps there’s something a little canny in her eyes, in the way she flicks her ears back whenever someone new approaches.

Perhaps.

Abby sniffs, wiping at tears. Thinking of home — of his uncle, and regrets, and a basement full of bones. ]


Do you want to hold her? She’s, uh. She’s nice…

[ The cat’s tail flicks. Watchful in Abby’s arms. ]

Into The Fog

[ Hiding seems like a good idea, so Abby hides. Ducks into the nearest house and clutches Jenny protectively to his chest. The cat, perhaps oddly, doesn’t seem all that concerned, but her eyes are bright and alert — ears flicking constantly when she hears something approaching.

The drag of a chain against the ground, for instance.

Abby skews his eyes closed. He’s not a fighter. Not much of anything, right now. ]


Sorry — sorry. Please don’t kick me out, I’ll be quiet.

[ Hit me up at [plurk.com profile] mirrorfaded if you’re in the mood for something else. Abby is a necromancer and healer, though currently unable to access his powers. ]
telepathy: (43)

mavis (original)

[personal profile] telepathy 2022-08-11 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)
01. supermarket sweep

[ mavis has never seen anything like it.

rows upon rows of food, completely unguarded. in boxes, jars, cans, bags. she walks slowly up and down the aisles, staring at it all. her first instinct had been to take it all, hoard what she could while it's here. but then she'd realized there's too much for that. she'd left two dozen loaves of presliced, bagged bread on the floor in the second aisle before she'd moved on.

she winds her way to the produce and stuffs cherry tomatoes into her mouth — as many as she can fit — before gathering other fruits and vegetables that she doesn't recognize into a plastic bag and heading into further aisles.

she doesn't just need food. she needs a weapon.

the kitchen supplies aisle has a knife. she takes it off the shelf, frowning. it's not a weapon. it's a chef's tool. but she sets down the bounty of food between her feet like a soccer ball she's guarding and she test the point and the edge with her newly free hand and nods to herself. it'll do.
]

02. why don't you run?

[ the first dog that lunges at her doesn't live to regret it.

the knife may be a chef's tool, but it cuts through flesh just as well. she uses it, now, to prod at the mangy corpse. at the iron collar screwed into its neck. she sets the knife aside and begins to unscrew it, that she might discover something about its origin or its make or its function.

or maybe just because it's habit. salvaging steel from corpses.

something is wrong with these dogs. while she's lingering over it, two more emerge from the fog. mavis shifts the collar to her offhand, and withdraws her knife from the corpse. she straightens and readies to defend herself.
]

03. persistent violence

[ for a time, mavis is content to look on. she's used to being a voyeur on the lives and cultures of communities that she is not a part of. how many clan practices has she watched from the cliffs, imagining her participation but holding back?

only the tied figure's moaning draws her closer. she ignores the dark figure in favor of the handmaidens bearing the figure towards the bonfire. she tries to block them, first. stands in their path, hands shaking. but they maneuver around her as if she were a rock in a stream. she whips her head around and grabs for one of them, trying to pull them off their path, trying to make them drop their burden.
]

04. wildcard

[ feel free to hit me up [plurk.com profile] protects for something else if these doesn't work, or hit mavis with a text prompt. info on the character is in her journal, but the basic pitch is "aloy from horizon zero dawn but psionics instead of corporations and climate change." ]
somatosensory: ꜱᴏʟᴀʀᴀɴ (Default)

[personal profile] somatosensory 2022-08-11 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
can manifestations have powers/abilities?
navcav: (Default)

Gideon Nav | Gideon the Ninth

[personal profile] navcav 2022-08-11 05:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Wandering About

[ actually, this is pretty cool. beats the last two places gideon has ever been in her life, really! a deserted seaside town that isn't crumbling into the sea just yet, and also not full of politics and other Houses. that's a win, in gideon's book. she's spent literally four hours (fifteen minutes) looking for anybody she knew, by way of poking her nose into all the places she could reasonably expect harrow to have vanished off to. her white and black skull facepaint is peeling off but she's got her mirrored aviators still against the horrid bright glare of the sun (yes, even in the fog! yes, even during the twilight hours when a normal person would not be wearing sunglasses!) and thank everything, she's got her fucking longsword. the presence of her longsword is 90% of what makes this sudden shift in circumstances bearable. ]

Hallo. Hallooooooo. [ she walks into empty apartments, sticking her head under carts, even climbs the statues. ] Excuse me? Anybody seen a necromancer around here? Short, shitty, dressed like a weird nun?


There's Horrible Shit Monsters

[ she ain't know how but this somehow harrow's fault, as most things are. there's monsters in the fog and she's, well, busy 'sparring' with the dogs. they're not much next to horrible huge skeleton constructs, you know?

she kicks her booted foot like a cat trying to shake water from its paw, grimacing. ]


Ugh, that one was juicy. What are these dog things for, anyway? Ambiance?


Bonefires Are Where You're Supposed To Burn Bones, That's Why They're Called That

[ well! well! this is super cool and very much like being back at home, except the ninth isn't really all that keen on fires during their weird shit rituals? there's a lot of old wood and crumbling paper in the libraries, tho, so that kinda makes sense.

anyway gideon has already gone up to the Dark Figure capital d capital f and tried a few questions, like would u care for a fine titty mag, and been thoroughly ignored, so clearly nobody here is interested in making friends. again, just like home!

without her necro around to give her ridiculous orders, like 'stand back and watch, Nav, you utter twit,' gideon's first instinct is to try and rescue the soon to be burned alive person..................... but is it really a person, here, in this place, which is full of weird fucken things she doesn't understand. and. well. she's been wrong about shit before, hasn't she? ]


Uhhhh. Should we like. Assist? Or is this Immolation Tuesday.


Wildcard

[ yea? ]
navcav: (i know u may need to grieve)

sound and light

[personal profile] navcav 2022-08-11 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ excuse u prince fancypants, who looks enough like a certain third house cavalier to make her teeth itch ]

It's not-- [ why the fuck is she crying anyway? she yanks off her aviators and wipes futilely at her streaming eyeballs, smearing the black and white skull facepaint even worse than it already was. this is like some encore impression of the shitty teens, except thinking of them makes it worse ]

It's not the puppet show, hair boy! [ she sniffles soggily and pats at the hilt of her longsword as a normal person would pat a support animal, for comfort ]

It's not that at all.
Edited 2022-08-11 17:19 (UTC)
navcav: (in the darkness she was laid to rest)

three

[personal profile] navcav 2022-08-11 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
'Stracciatella?' Sounds like a terminal disease.

[ gideon hadn't wandered in here looking for ice cream, as she has never had ice cream in her life, but there's only so many times you can climb to the top of the various statues and do pull ups and open the same doors and yell for harrow. she frowns at this kid, who might even be her own age, who isn't even wearing a sword or armor. is he a necro? god knows. ]

I'm looking for a necromancer, you seen any wandering 'round?

[ she's hoping he'll puff up his chest and be all 'you stupid cav, I'm a necromancer, and yes I've seen yours, she was just being rude around the corner.' it's a thin hope, but a hope nonetheless. ]
orobashi: (76)

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 06:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Melancholy effects...

( She seems deep in thought even as she accepts the handkerchief. Her gloved fingers run carefully over the embroidery, taking it in before she moves it to her eyes to dab away her tears. They continue coming, despite that, but it helps.

It also helps to know that this man, as serious as he seems, has also shed tears. A soft laugh, short and strained, escapes her lips, and she sniffles a little afterwards. )


I'll have to write that down. ( Later, when she's done weeping. )

Thank you, sir, for your kindness... I feel like watching the Ruler be slain yet again will be a painful stab to my heart, but I can't turn away. ( It hurts even now, even still, throbbing in her chest. His death, again and again. Or even a different King's death, and another, and another... It's unfair. It's cruel. It's sad. When all she ever wanted was the happiness of everyone, it also feels... personal, now.

It's not that she hadn't already thought of that, but this "melancholy effect" forces such thoughts to the forefront of her mind, bright and blinding, impossible to ignore. It stabs through her like hundreds of knives, and she feels responsible. She feels like if she can endure this, then maybe she can understand a fraction of the suffering of this King. Or Kings. )


When I noticed that it felt as though it was changing, I made certain to bring my journal the next day. However... my notes have provided no extra clarity on the matter. I can't seem to make sense of it. ( sniff. ) I'd be happy to share notes to better come to an understanding of this phenomenon, however.

Tell me, if you don't mind... Did those tears come from a place within you? Or were they too foreign to comprehend? Even now, I understand why I'm crying, even if I hadn't intended to.
orobashi: (57)

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
( An offer to help is both a relief and a challenge for her. After all, each life is worth so much. To have someone risk it, even for the sake of another, is a large weight to bear... And as a leader, even if not of this land, she feels responsible for those lives. She'd like to bring happiness to them.

But she understands that working alone will not be enough. Pulling her hand back now that it's done the trick, she curls her fingers loosely into her palm, resting it against her chest. )


Would you really?

( She pauses, and in her silence she's assessing him. Her eyes are firm, she gives him a look up and down, and there's always something about someone's aura when they're a fighter of some kind. Their body language, their confidence, their calmness in the face of chaos. Still... She feels a duty to speak warning. )

I would greatly appreciate it, but only if you're willing and understanding of the risks involved. I'd like to come to your aid should anything go wrong, but I'm without my usual abilities... and if possible, I'd like to avoid harming these animals, no matter how lost they are.

Of course, I understand that it may be necessary to harm them for your own safety.

( She glances down, frowning a little. )

Mmm... I can't go on like this for too long, or they'll wander further. I'm simply asking to hear that you understand what sort of situation this is. So long as you do, then I will accept your help gratefully. But before we begin, may I know your name? Mine is Kokomi.
orobashi: (74)

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
I understand. Though I'm lacking my own abilities in this strange place, I have a knowledge of the battlefield and strange terrain. I can come to your aid if necessary.

There should be no reason for you to enter the sea, if you find it.

( Though it's all she longs to do, right now. To dive into the deep and take a moment to let all of her worries sink away. Mm, but that's probably not possible right now, even if she does find the ocean, thanks to her powers being stripped from her. )

My name is Kokomi Sangonomiya. May I have your name, in case I need to call out to you?
whomthebelltolls: (Cuz if I do you'll need a miracle)

There's Horrible Shit Monsters

[personal profile] whomthebelltolls 2022-08-11 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Perhaps...

[There's a very tall woman wiping a very sharp sword off with the crook of her elbow - samurai style, but then, the sword seems to be some kind of a hybrid of a saber and a katana, with a shorter blade attached to the hilt.

The blood doesn't seem to bother her, nor does brutally eviscerating malformed companion animals, which she has been doing with ease and even a bit of flair.
]

But I saw no sign of dogs of this like at all before this fog rolled in. Perhaps they're simply taking the opportunity of additional cover to hunt? They seem to have a strong taste for human blood; or perhaps they can find no other prey...?

[That's what makes the most sense to her as a Hunter, at least.]
navcav: (i know u may need to grieve)

[personal profile] navcav 2022-08-11 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ if gideon were a person who had paid attention during her lessons, she would probably have had many insightful things to say on the state of the necromantic magic supposedly animating these dogs. however gideon being gideon, she struggles for something cool to say in front of the cool sword lady and manages: ]

Ain't they dead? Like, reanimated corpses? I don't know that they'd need to eat. The skeletons back home sure didn't.

[ gideon's longsword technique is actually a bit too brutal for dogs, she's used to smashing bones to pieces in order to keep them from getting back up again. mostly she's just holding her two-hander in case it's needed and also because she friggin' loves a chance to have her sword out. but a good kick is really all you need for the dogs, provided your legs and feet are armored proficiently, which gideon's are. ]

These are kind of a weird choice for a necromancer in my opinion, [ she says, as if she had a professional opinion. ] They're so squishy.
orobashi: (56)

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
The hearts of people are deep, but even knowing so, the pain that stings into our own can't be lessened so easily. While you may do your best to understand the intentions of those around you, to understand their own will and heart, there may be times when your pain can't be soothed. There may be tragedy.

( Kokomi can't imagine what this stranger must have on his mind, to be feeling the melancholic effects of this play. But she knows what she had felt, previously, and she knows what the play has shown, again and again, no matter how strangely different in small, undistinguishable ways. )

Betrayal of that level... Whether those Rulers did unthinkable things before this play, or they were purely innocent and good, there was a moment in the eyes of those who betrayed where they thought "I have no other choice."

I imagine that a moment like that must be just as lonely as the Ruler's last.

( She lowers her journal, finally, and reaches out with her free hand. Gloved fingers delicately press to his back, and then her palm flattens. A simple action of contact, a touch between strangers that she hopes is comforting more than it is strange or unwanted. )

Mmm... I believe that's what upsets me the most. That two people could be so alone while connected so thoroughly. That there was no conversation, but action made on thoughts kept quiet. Assumptions, to be certain.

I... hope I have not said too much. When I noticed you here, I felt that you may also be feeling a type of loneliness, so I thought I'd reach out.
orobashi: (76)

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 07:18 pm (UTC)(link)
While I may not be able to access my normal abilities, I'm used to wounds on battlefields. At the very least, I'd like to see if it's dressed properly.

( It's different from how she usually handles injuries, considering her healing abilities, but she's stranded in the water for the time being. Her hands work carefully but efficiently, keeping his current wrap in fair enough condition in case she can't find a suitable replacement.

While she works and analyzes, she speaks still. )


My name is Kokomi Sangonomiya. Would you mind giving me your name? It may be nice to get to know one another in this strange place.

( Talking, not focusing on the injury itself just in case he's still in shock over it. Gathering information, checking on his status that way... She just doesn't want to see him more hurt than he already has to be. )
songmother: <user name="palisades"> (015 remember the cancer)

[personal profile] songmother 2022-08-11 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sarah would normally be cautious around such a stern and serious man - men with that look were usually among the first to hunt her kind, in the old days, and now once again. But they weren't in that world anymore, it seemed, and the woman who was usually tight-lipped about personal wounds and her own experiences didn't seem to have any control over the urge to share, regardless of personal safety, or whether she actually wanted to.

Having no idea what was coming, for now, Sarah would have preferred a familiar face appearing on the island, but she understood the feeling of preferring your loved ones were elsewhere, hopefully safe. Her brow did the same as his at his question. She gazed towards the dance of light and shadow, but her mind was somewhere else.
]

Circumstances where you and your kind are hunted by the zealous and ignorant masses, who wish to kill you simply because you are different than them.

[ She turned back to the man beside her. ] A place where men would rather burn you than try to understand, or live among you and prosper.
orobashi: (41)

hehehe I'm so glad you like her too!

[personal profile] orobashi 2022-08-11 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
My name is Kokomi Sangonomiya.

( She decides that, with his very alert state, she will give him as much information as possible, while keeping it relevant. Explaining her relation to Watatsumi Island doesn't seem especially helpful at this time, since from what she can tell, no one here is wearing clothing familiar enough to be from Inazuma, at the very least. Not so far. Her titles don't matter in this place where they're all lost in a current of confusion, and so she avoids mentioning anything quite like that.

But it's her airs of a Divine Priestess that are guiding her through so many social interactions in the first place. Tiring, energy reducing, but very necessary. It's that ability of hers to put on this face that makes it so that she can come across as soothing, as calm, as confident. And she hopes that, even if this man's image reminds her of a scared animal backed into a corner, her metaphorical extending of her hand can give him some stability, even if for a moment. )


Mmm... As for how long I searched, I'm afraid that it seems impossible to note. I did my best to track the sun in the sky, but there's an area where the mist is so thick that even walking straight continuously will draw you back in a circle. I believe... it felt like a few hours, but I can't say with confidence that I'm correct.

( She brings a hand to her own chest, trying to display her sincerity in her words. )

There are handfuls of others. Some I have spoken to, others I have not. Due to the surprise of all of us waking in such a strange place, it's difficult to find exacts. I'd approximate that I've seen at least twenty others.