rhodosmods: (Default)
Rhodos Mods ([personal profile] rhodosmods) wrote in [community profile] rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
Entry tags:

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!
standless: (muffled `ohno`)

[personal profile] standless 2022-09-30 02:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"My god- your entire family?" He speaks with empathy, which is perhaps the worst of it. Sympathy is one thing, but to relate on such a level only speaks of tragedy for all. "My sincerest condolences then- it is no easy matter, to move onward from such tragedy."

A fair way...He smiles, but finds it sad as he looks to the water. "...I've found quite a lot more oft surprised by the idea, sad to say. Indeed, I can see that for many it would be easy enough to ignore what cannot by their own hand be helped but...I suppose in that way it is simply my nature."
abella: (| 6.)

[personal profile] abella 2022-10-02 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ ianthe sighs loudly, and she'll continue sighing loudly until coronabeth does as she's told.

muttered under her breath, words pressed through her gritted teeth: ]


How many times do I have to call you a stupid bitch until you realize that you truly are one?

[ a hypothetical question. ianthe knows the answer is "never".

maneuvering into an embrace might be difficult whilst functionally one-armed and wielding a blade, but lyctorhood has made ianthe multi-talented. she does, unmindful of the blood and grime that she'll smear on corona.

she deserves it, anyway. ianthe's not willing to toe the line when corona's as annoying and overwrought as she is now, but that doesn't mean she isn't sick and tired of her pulling the same damn dramatic nonsense every time she gets into a manipulative mood.

they've always embraced with the fervor of lovers, and today is no exception: ianthe twines about her like a creeping vine, roses hiding the thorns beneath. the strength in the way she clings belies how thin her shroud of condescension really is. coronabeth's hair threaded through her reaching fingers, the warmth of her sister's body in her arms buoying her in ways the violence could never. ianthe inhales, filling herself with corona's scent, and for once the jaded paranoia fades: she closes her eyes and tucks her face to corona's throat.

her sister is so delicate, for all that she hums with vitality. ianthe noses along her temple, down the curve of auricular cartilage. a sea of skin to press her sweaty face up against. corona deserves it. ]


It's always you and me, even if another omniscient goddamn blob appears in the sky and starts raining madness down on me. Is that enough for you? Must I rip open my chest and show you that red thing within me that beats for you? I've never been half as dramatic as you are, but if I'm forced to speak in your language...

[ a sullen rapid-fire hail of words, meant to crowd out coronabeth's next attempt at hyperbole. ]
hasapoint: an old woman's hand proffering a sword hilt (Default)

[personal profile] hasapoint 2022-10-04 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
[there's a lot need would like to say about this but they are getting way in the weeds.]

Anyway. Is this going to be a problem? If it's all the same to you, skull-child, I'd prefer fighting it out now to being knifed in the back.

[Death-path magicians and those who love them will do anything, after all. But this is also a bit of a gamble on Need's part; she doesn't actually think this girl wants to kill her like this. She huffs in aggravation.]

You're very young and would probably win, but I'm sure I could give you a souvenir first. I'd say don't use my body for components but I doubt I could stop you.

[Not unless her magic comes back.]
navcav: (Default)

[personal profile] navcav 2022-10-04 06:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ gideon puts her hands on her hips as if that's going to make her seem older and more authoritative. she is, one can assume, copying the pose from her swordmaster. ]

I don't have a problem with anti-necro heathens if they don't have a problem with me. I'm gonna defend myself, obviously, but I don't see any particular reason to start shit when we're already stuck in this weird-ass place. Harrow would throw a fit if I like, started a war.

Are you gonna knife me in the back?
hasapoint: an old scarred woman considers (by Anna Akhmatova)

[personal profile] hasapoint 2022-10-04 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Yep this is a child trying to look stern and like someone to take seriously. Probably it works on some people; she's big and her features are obscured. Need's black eyes are steady and measuring as she takes a moment to answer.]

I'd rather not. This doesn't seem like an opening for invasion scenario and you probably aren't actually the same as your closest equivalent from Velgarth.

[Need absolutely knifes people in the back. It's so much lower risk than fighting face to face! If she's going to be walking around on her own as a seventy-odd-year-old she has to consider risk more seriously than if she'd landed in Kero's body or something. Though she'd keep the possibility open as Kero too, honestly, and so would Kero. That child has many aggravating traits and is entirely too stubborn but it's also nice that she's not too preoccupied with honor. Need misses her immediately.]

I'm going to have to come up with an answer to 'heathen', though. It's got a different flavor to 'barbarian'.
navcav: (obitchuary)

[personal profile] navcav 2022-10-04 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[ you mean her natural aura of maturity and competence right :( ]

I mean, I can one hundred percent swear on my mother's bones that I'm not the invasion force tip of the Necrolord Prime's holy sword or whatever; I've been trying to get that gig for years and it's certainly not going to happen to me now, when it would be convenient.

[ she tries to think of words to describe anti-Housers that aren't 'heathen' and 'heretic' and comes up with... nada. ]

Nnnnnnormie. Anti-wizard.

--I got nothing they're all derogatory terms in the comic books.
hasapoint: an old scarred woman considers (by Anna Akhmatova)

[personal profile] hasapoint 2022-10-04 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[Need can confidently say, as someone outside of the Houses system: the whole concept sounds Bad. Probably not something she can fix right now or possibly ever, which is fine. Plenty of terrible things she can't fix.]

Does swearing by things have any particular meaning to you?

[She shakes her head.] Wizards are fine. I'm a mage, if you've forgotten. I suppose I'd call your people, what? Zealots?

[She can line up a whole spiel about how the different words for mage all used to mean different things and a witch isn't the same as a sorceress isn't the same as a wizard and it's a pain when people use them interchangeably. This isn't the time.]

I'm... hm, this language doesn't have the right term for it. I've been... a shaman? a priest? a nun? A lay sister, maybe. [There are some other words that have entirely too grandiose connotations and she's not going to say them.] But who and what people worship isn't anything like as important as what they do.
navcav: (this bitch is hard to impress)

[personal profile] navcav 2022-10-05 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Sure it does! Swearing on your mama's grave should be a Thing across any universe. I could swear on God, but he's a necromancer too, so that's. You know. Probably not a good guarantee of sincerity to someone who haet necro.

[ shrug ]

We're Imperials, I guess. The antis hate magic and think the terms 'wizard' and 'zombie' are both slurs and equivocal.

[ ah, nuns. gideon has teeeeechnically been impersonating one, here, because keeping up harrow's dumb charade is slightly less degrading than announcing one's self as a slave. ]

Oh, a nun. [ gideon's smile turns slightly fixed, why is her life lousy with angry combat nuns. ] That's cool, that's cool. I think 'lay sister' is probably technically the correct term for the Ninth House cavalier.

[ a beat. ]

Which is what I am! Yeah.
hasapoint: an old scarred woman considers (by Anna Akhmatova)

[personal profile] hasapoint 2022-10-05 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
I think my mother was cremated and scattered on the winds. [Maybe? She doesn't remember when and how her mother died and just what her people did with bodies. The Kaled'a'in and their descendants cremate their dead and her people were the ancestors of the Kaled'a'in.] It's been a long time - her body's been part of everything for I can't imagine how long.

[As has Need's. This isn't, she thinks, her old, living body so much as a recreation of it.]

For a lay Sister you don't seem to like them much. [You can hear the capital letter. A little bit is coming back from that abyss of memory... yes, they called each other Sisters.] Why, you end up with the humorless kind?
babysitters: (Default)

🎀

[personal profile] babysitters 2022-10-08 08:34 pm (UTC)(link)
( honestly, Aerith could probably say anything to Steve at this point and he'd be fine with it. because he distinctly saw his life flash before his eyes there, and falling on cute girls like a bag of bricks is less embarrassing when it is the better alternative to being... what? Steve doesn't wanna overthink what could have happened, or that the creature had a mouth lined with hundreds of teeth under its impassive flat face, and decided him in arm's reach was a good motivator to open it.

but it reminds Steve of Jonathan, pinned to the floor. Steve has often wondered during sleepless nights what might have happened if he hadn't gone back. if he'd got in his beamer and driven away. he's uncomfortably certain that he might have figured out, if they hadn't dragged him out of that window in time.

so he's a little dazed, still staring at the disconcerting black of the window, when Aerith squirms and he remembers to shift away. and try to kick back the terror of what could have been for what terror could be happening right the hell now if they don't get moving.
)

Sorry? Sorry. ( LOOK he didn't mean to fall on the cute anime girl! he really didn't! Steve is collecting his bearings (and his baseball bat) before he gets to his feet and offers Aerith a hand up, too. ) You okay? Maybe we should stick together, awhile. ( there's gotta be someplace in this nightmare town that isn't swarming with evil monsters. right? and if there isn't someplace, well... they'll be safer together than apart. )

Page 57 of 57