Chapter 1: A Light in the Dark, TDM

[cyndanemods]

Chapter 1: A Light in the Dark, TDM

A spark in the night

All awaken in their own time as if from a perfectly innocuous sleep, well-rested and refreshed in a way that is perhaps less innocuous, but what is perhaps most striking in these first moments is that no one is in their own bed. All now on this plane awaken in simple bunks within simple cabins...not that this fact is very easily observable.

Undoubtedly rivaling the strangeness of awaking in a new bed is the fact that this place is nearly devoid of natural light. One might at first assume it's nighttime, but no moonlight streams through the windows. The only light is from a lit lantern, allowing the barest observations: each cabin houses up to six people in six bunks, each has a small table with two chairs, the walls are worn wooden plank and the roof tin, the construction very simple. As everyone rouses, there are certainly reactions to be had and decisions to be made. Should anyone wander outside, they will find that there are at least stars shining in the sky, though their positions are unfamiliar. Despite the darkness, it is cool but not cold. The land in the immediate area seems mostly even, the environment akin to scrubland. They will also find that there are more cabins, all set along a single well-worn pathway and all filled with more people in the same predicament. Nobody knows this place. Nobody knows what is happening or why they are here."

So... What's one to do?

Who was here?

Exploration of the camp itself reveals a few things that may be helpful. There are several established campfire areas, some with makeshift seating or simple cooking tools. At the end of the row of cabins, there is a small storage building containing various tinned foods (quality unknown), tools, simple animal traps and fishing equipment, candles and matches, a small supply of assorted spare clothes, and a fairly generous quantity of firewood. All of this, but no signs of the people who put it here. If they left, it was recent and unhurried; no gathered dusk, nothing ransacked or overturned... Still, is anyone in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth? With the right amount of cooperation and lack of panic, perhaps this new little populous might simply wait the situation out.

When and if people grow restless, it is also observable that the main path of the camp, once itself the bed of a creek, continues onward in either direction.

Seek & Find

Taking the path North—though how can one truly tell?—leads wanderers to an incline, which becomes the steep and rocky base of a mountain. While the mountain itself is not very steep or perilous, the conditions are hard to measure in the darkness. Still, any adventurer or group intrepid enough may pick their way to the top over the course of two to three "days", however they're measuring. They'll find the landscape rocky and, like the campsite, mostly patches of scrub grass populated by small animals such as mice, rabbits, and birds.

Should anyone reach the top... Congratulations! While there's no picturesque view to be had, there is a large cairn. Examining the exterior of it carefully, one might find a message etched into one of the larger stones near the base:

You will cross my path again. This is inevitable.
Taking the path South brings one to a stream. Providence! Upon examination or experimentation, the water is found to be clean and drinkable, and one might even be able to figure out how to start snagging up some fish or washing or doing laundry. It's a perfectly fine little resource for the camp.

Walking upstream for any length of time will yield no promising results. One cannot see the landscape stretching out before them and there is only the rustle of the wind through the grass or the occasional fleeing of a small animal. Is it becoming darker, even? Perhaps it is. Perhaps it's best to turn back before the lamp oil or candles are gone.

Walking downstream, on the other hand, leads to a decline that slopes steadily, the trail a little more precarious until it widens out. This seems...almost road-like, even? Does that instill confidence? If yes, keep pushing forward! In about 25 miles, one can see lights in the distance. Drawing nearer, the shape of a town's front gate strung with decorative lanterns appears. This is the town of Stonesthrow.

The townspeople are in a bit of a tizzy, rushing here and there, setting up lanterns and booths, prepping in their various kitchens. It seems some celebration is meant to kick off soon, and while the townspeople are friendly, they don't have much time to spare the newcomers. They don't seem surprised by their presence, and relaying waking up at the camp prompts fairly nonchalant reactions. 'Up at the old mines?' they might ask. 'Oh, I'd stay away from there.' They also aren't fussed if questioned about the state of the world and its lack of light. They get by.

There are beds available at a couple inns, and one only has to make the request. Locals also won't bat an eye at out-of-towners hunkering down to camp or have a snooze outdoors in public spaces.

Starfall

For those who elected to stay behind at the camp or journey to the mountain, Stonesthrow makes itself known bombastically. A squeal and explosion sound in the distance, and anyone outside will see a burst of crackling light in the distance. It's a fireworks display, its purples, oranges and yellows stark against the utter darkness of this place, perhaps the first sign of outside life since finding themselves here. Every six hours for 72 hours, another display is launched. Those remaining at the mining camp can find their way easily, then, to the town.

When they arrive, a festival is in full swing. A banner over the town's main road reads "ENJOY THE STARFALL SKIES".

Along the main street, several carts and booths serve a variety of food. No one asks for any money and, if questioned about this, the people of the town seem to have no idea what payment even is. One of the carts offers fresh fruits that may look familiar to some, resembling dragon fruit and lychees. When peeled open, however, the flesh carries a faint glow. The vender calls them starfruit and moonfruit, which is perhaps unusual given that there's no sign of the moon in the sky. Ever. Starfruit are said to increase one's charm and stamina, while moonfruit are said to increase perception and cunning. No matter how implausible this seems, consuming them does seem to replenish the mind and body, increase gregariousness, or make one a suspicious little plotter. Respectively.

Also available are different games of chance and skill, taking place within the town's open square. Included are classics such as arm wrestling, bottle toss, and wheel-spinning, each awarding varying small trinkets, all decorated with star motifs. Craft displays and items are also available, all themed around the stars. While peddlers are unfamiliar with money, they will accept item trades or other barters. All offer well-wishes such as "may the stars fall in your favor" or "have a glowing Starfall". If anyone asks what Starfall's about, they are instructed to watch the next fireworks display and stay for the production afterwards.

The final fireworks show is grand and magnificent. Many aren't just pops of light and color, but take the form of moving spectacles. A dragon soars across the sky, a snake lunges at a rabbit who manages to get away, flowers bloom and petals fall... Each scene is one pulled from the natural world. Afterwards, a stage performance is put on in the main courtyard. A man with a guitar accompanies a woman who sings the story of Starfall.

The tale is simple enough. Two lovers meet against the will of their worlds and gods. One cunning and observant but far too afraid to take action, the other daring enough to cross worlds to join her, bearing gifts of fire and warm, glowing light, previously unknown. To commemorate this meeting and the divine gifts, Starfall is still celebrated today, marked by a certain positioning of the stars and greeted with joyful fireworks displays.

The celebration winds down slowly after that, with the townspeople settling in for warmed wine, quieter card games, and gossip as their children wander off to bed. Once again, nobody will begrudge the newcomers hanging about, particularly if they offer to help in the cleanup. Of course, there’s also the possibility of returning to the camp.

Mod Notes!

Welcome to the first ever Test Drive meme for Cyndane! We're happy to have you! A few things to keep in mind:

• The world you arrived in is dark (no sun, no moon), and there's no harnessed electricity. Oddly, while the nights are cool, it's uncomfortable at worst as opposed to deadly.
• Any questions about the prompts or setting can be asked here.
• For general game questions, please refer to the FAQ.
• Applications will open on May 1 and will close on May 5.
• Accepted characters who participated on the TDM will have an additional Bond Slot available to them in the month of May to use upon arrival.

♡

Comments

Questions:

[cyndanemods]

Johnny Silverhand | Cyberpunk 2077

[chippin]

north path

Johnny pauses when he sees a rabbit scurrying through the brush: an actual rabbit, he assumes. Not some genetically-engineered beast, just real. Probably scared for its life, seeing him trample about.

No matter how long he seems to walk, the sky never changes. Reminds him of Mikoshi: only ever bright when it was what they wanted him to see. Blinding just for the sake of pain.

Can’t see too far across the horizon, but he can hear: footsteps. Johnny doesn’t even bother brandishing a weapon, just clears his throat. Says: “If you’re looking for game, it went” — jerking a thumb behind him — “that-away.”

south path

Johnny kneels beside the stream, peering at the water’s surface. No reflection — just inky blackness — but he knows he’s him. Back in his own body. And, after a life full of sheer impossibilities, this one really takes the cake.

Only one real possibility there: he’s dead. Or he’s lost his mind. Johnny’s leaning toward the latter.

He brought some supplies with him from camp; tugs them out of a pack he stole, jacking into a can of corn with a knife. Not especially keen on sharing, but…

If someone else stumbles across him, Johnny will shake the can at them.

“You tell me your name, you can have some scop.”

starfall

Makes sense why these people are so fixated on the stars, considering how dark it is. Johnny’s brushing past most people, not exactly keen on interaction.

He wouldn’t admit it, but it’s almost thrilling: the pop of fireworks. Being around people as himself. People who don’t know him, don’t loathe him — not yet. Like a fresh start he doesn’t deserve.

Never too soon to screw all that up, though.

Johnny stays for the performance — tells himself he’s reluctant to do so, even — and wishes he had V to snark with. But he doesn’t, feels the deep pang of that loss, so he says, to no one in particular: “Real sappy shit.”

wildcard

( Feel free to swap to brackets and / or poke me at eurodyne if you’d like to discuss anything! Would enjoy getting up to see the message at the top of the mountain, and just survival sort of themes in general. )

Starfall

[mikoshi]

It wasn't giving up, Vincent reminds himself. Already turned into code in Mikoshi, so what's stepping through the Blackwall to hang out with the rest of them? Delamain became his own person, had kids. They chose his kids over him. Only fair the same choice was made in Mikoshi.

Legacy or some shit.

Johnny's tags are warm against his chest. Throngs of people he doesn't know, who capitalism hasn't fucked yet (they don't know what money is) chatting, smiling. Either he ended up in an server meant for an idyllic MMO or something — because he sure as shit doesn't deserve to end up in a place like Heaven — or Alt's onboarding his post-human psyche with a communist remix of the Japantown float parade, rustic style.

It's nice. Feels real.

So real I'm still hurtin'.

Knows exactly why too — soul cleaved in two, aching to be reunited with the guy forcibly grafted onto. Johnny truly grew on, in him like cancer.

Has to look away when the guy with a guitar takes stage and starts playing. Too close for comfort.

"Yeah," Vincent answers to that, so used to that voice he doesn't realize he isn't imagining it. Rationalizes it as phantom pains after amputated limbs — brain ain't a muscle but the principle stands. "So fire off your rant 'bout this is meaningless bullshit for the ignorant masses, Johnny, I know it's comin'."

Mafuyu Asahina | Project Sekai

[depressured]

I. AWAKENING

[ When she blinks awake, she moves instantly--not because she feels the desire to, necessarily; her limbs feel like lead. She's tired.

But she isn't in a familiar bed, in a familiar place. There's no moonlight, no sun filtering through curtains, not even the faint glow of a laptop's power button in the darkness. There's also something above her, when she reaches up in confusion--wood? Another bed?

Slowly, cautiously, she slips out of bed, taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light of the lantern. It's hard to tell if anyone is awake, so.

Rather than call out...

Well, hopefully you don't freak out to someone looming over you as soon as you wake up, seeming as though she was watching you sleep (it's been like, three seconds.) ]

II. FEAST OF CHAMPIONS(?)

[ Okay. Well.

The situation's not ideal, and she still has very few answers, but Mafuyu is very bad at not doing things when there are things to be done, so she's decided to make use of the campfire and some of the tinned foods.

Some. She's not sure about "pig brains in milk gravy", but there's some kind of stew with beans that she's stirring over the fire now, and she'll glance up if you approach. ]

Would you like some? It's edible.

[ She doesn't clarify whether it's the best thing you will ever eat in your lifetime, but that's fine-- ]

III. STARFALL

[ Mafuyu can be found in a few different places during this celebration.

First, at the bottle toss. She's... really good at it, Locking In whenever she takes aim, though she can also be seen examining the rings and murmuring to herself that it's "not exactly the same." But if you'd like her to win you a prize, she doesn't seem opposed to assisting.

Secondly, the stage performance. It's a very nice performance, but she seems most riveted on the story itself, like she's attempting to figure out if there's something to be learned from it. There's a lot about this she still doesn't know, after all. And so-- ]

I wonder if there's any truth to this legend at all...

[ Or, lastly, catch her while she's helping with the clean-up, where this teenage girl is trying to balance four boxes of fruit. She doesn't look to be struggling with it, but. Maybe help her out anyway? Or join her. Or laugh. The possibilities are endless. ]

awakening

[ordealwithit]

[ This isn't Kel's bed, no, but neither was the bed she'd gone to sleep in last night, in the room she and Tobe had been given for the week of festivities at Steadfast. Honestly, this bed isn't so different from that one anyway, and the deep dark and quiet outside are a comfort to her, a sign to her half-conscious mind that all is well. No straggling raiding parties are near.

But why would Tobe be wanting her attention in the middle of the night? And why bother with a candle? Kel blinks bleary eyes at the figure looming over her, just to close them again on a yawn. ]

You really don't need to be up already. Didn't I say--

[ Another yawn, and a gentle stretch so she won't disturb Jump or the sparrows nestled in her blanket--

No, that's wrong. Her bed isn't nearly crowded enough. And the person looming over her--

Quiet as unease pierces through her gut, Kel opens her eyes. Even before they adjust, she can see clearly enough to know that this isn't her scrawny young charge, or a child at all. Carefully, she shifts her weight, preparing to roll out of bed on a kick if this stranger--someone from Steadfast? but who would enter her room without a knock?--makes the wrong move. Despite that, her voice is mild and even when she speaks up again. ]

What news?

junpei | zero escape (zero time dilemma)

[coolerjunpei]

a spark in the night

[Upon waking in a dark room full of strangers, Junpei's first thought can be nothing else but Oh great, this again. Sure, he's disoriented as anyone else in the seconds after he wakes, but as soon as he has the general idea, there's something... part-methodical, part-sick-of-this-BS about the way he drags himself out of bed and starts to inspect the cabin, as much as he can in the mostly-dark. Like, he's lifting his own bunk's mattress to peer under the corners for anything extra-suspicious, but he keeps sighing about it like it's a hassle someone else is making him do.

Every so often he stops to pick a spot in the cabin and just frown at it, clearly lost in thought about something else. The lantern, the floor, his bunk, maybe yours—but then he's right back to picking over the room looking for who knows what.

Inevitably he goes up to the door and stares at it in his tense-tired way, and once he opens it, he... Once he opens it...

Watch this man deflate in real time, speaking to no one in particular:]

We're not even locked in? What the hell...

storage room

[The storage building is, of course, not to be trusted—too convenient—but Junpei cynically would rather be betrayed on a full stomach and with something warmer to wear than his t-shirt, so here he is. He's collecting supplies, although he doesn't really know what to take with him and seems to be operating on a "some of everything???" mindset at the moment.

Currently he's sniffing a food can. You know, because that works as a freshness test. There are candles sticking out of his jeans pockets and some sort of cargo jacket slung over his shoulder; some of everything is the plan, but he doesn't know how to hunt or fish so actually maybe he'll just live off these candles...

Depending on who joins him, he'll react in two different ways—this is tagger's choice and some light handwaving of cabin time is A-ok, so either:

You woke in the same cabin as he did, in which case he is more inclined to feel a friendly familiarity (he knows this is silly, but whatever) and he'll hold up his tinned food to comment:] These things usually last like ten years, right? We probably won't get mercury poisoning, or whatever, but if we do... I dunno, do you like silver?

[Or you woke in a different cabin, in which case he's mentally sorted you into Other Team until proven otherwise, sorry about it. He does not quip about the cans, but instead side eyes for a bit before conceding:] You get anything weird in your Camp Kidnapping Adventure bunk?

starfall

[Best not to think about how Junpei was convinced to trek 25 real human miles to this little town lest he start screaming and never stop, so: he's already here. His immediate response to the town is a simple:]

What the fuck.

[...but who is he to turn his nose up at free fruit after the tinned misery experience? He pops perhaps too many starfruit in a row to be reasonable, which just makes him feel kind of giddy and chatty like he's had too much caffeine, but who cares! There are games! He's not going to win any of them and that's totally fine!!

One may even encounter him at the bottle toss counting the bottles and in the middle of some animated yapping that includes:] —so with three rings, and a bottle grid of this size, the probability of hitting the same bottle every time is who gives a shit, right? Because winning is actually stupid and pointless!

[Which could mean anything.

Towards the end of the celebration he's sat down with some of that warmed wine and is watching the townspeople mill about. He doesn't really want to begin the long and dreadful journey back to the camp, but if the alternative is this town, well...]

Uh, hey. [hi, hello,] Do you think this place is, you know... real?

misc/wildcard

[hey hey... feel free to use brackets or prose, idc and will switch for you, hmu at jojoveller if you wanna touch base! junpei is from the ztd true end if this means anything to you... also if you're into any of the exploring options please go for it!! he will whine.]

Storage Room

[catsgothistongue]

[Waking up in a strange place... wasn't actually the oddest event to happen to him in his seventeen years of living. It doesn't even come close to the top twenty. Yeah, he can't say he's a fan of being randomly kidnapped to Whoknowswhereville, population him.

... plus the guy he woke up in the same cabin turning the place upside down, and a handful of others in the same boat, but meh, who's counting? That fact tipped him off that his usual rogue gallery of numbskulls weren't behind this, unless they've developed a butchery worth of beef with other people recently. Stressing about the orchestrator won't get them anywhere, and frankly, Ranma wasn't the type of guy to sit idly by twiddling his thumbs.

Silver lining, whoever took them was generous enough to dump them somewhere they can dig through for supplies. Better than breaking into people's joints and ransacking them blind. Ranma himself was rifling through a pile of discarded clothes - he hasn't found an exact match to his size but these can come in handy in other ways like rudimentary bandages - when he hears the other's comments.]

Can't say I'm fond of it, but- [Shrugs with a small murmur.] -beggars can't be choosers. I've eaten worse crap that messed up my stomach for weeks.

[Worse crap is a kinder term to say Akane's cooking before she finally did the impossible and made something decently edible.

Ranma takes a break from his search to slide on over to the tinned cans, picking up one to study over. The can itself appears fine, no real significant sign of damage or tampering aside, but the contents...]

There's no expiration date on these. Ten minutes, ten years, who knows when was the last time this dump got restocked?

[The former's slightly cause for alarm, that implies whoever or whatever dragged them here intends for them to stay a while... not that ranma particularly is worried. Whatever jokester made the mistake of thinking they can keep them here has another thing coming.]

[markingnight]

Who was here?

[ There was a man in light armor sifting systematically through the storage building, candlelight glinting against the scaled surface of his cloak. Did he own the place? No. Did he know where he was? Also no. But let none of those details get in the way of a good looting.

He was being very specific about what he was actually taking, at least -- a curved knife, an empty flask, some spare cloth and a length of wood to fashion into an improvised torch. Of the food and traps and clothing, he took nothing at all. In fact, he seemed downright dismissive of anything too airy or of softer weave.

But perhaps he had little need of such things. There was a sword sheathed at his side and a bow strapped to his back, after all. ]

Looking for something? Maybe I've seen it already.

Starfall

[ And now he was offering to trade with the merchants, though having little luck. Perhaps for a lantern, or a whetstone -- something practical, something lightweight. He seemed to have little interest in souvenirs. ]

I don't understand. You don't want any payment?

[ And then, a slight pause as he glanced back at the fish on the counter. Its tail flopped once, not a sign of life, but as some quirk of a nervous system just recently decomissioned. ]

...Then what am I to do with this trout?

Wildcard

[ Feel free to contact me for other ideas and whatnot! Tetradecimal ]

Who was here?

[gogozeppeli]

[ It appears Gyro wasn't the only one who headed straight for the storage facility. He stands by the door, idly watching the armored-clad fella like a hawk. Based on the light, leather-like armor and bow and arrows, this guy specializes in long-range combat, similar to a traditional archer. That's good to know, especially since Gyro was assessing this guy. However, he does not miss when the archer reaches for the knife.

Either this guy is designed for both long-range and close-quarters combat, or he is simply being cautious. Whatever the reason, Gyro's thoughts take a backseat when the archer speaks. ]

Not really. [ He states with a little shrug. ] I guess I was just curious to see what kind of wares this place has.

[ So far, he doesn't see much in the means of firearms. That's a good thing, right? ]

Ethan Winters | Resident Evil

[blackmold]

The Village.

As soon as Ethan is able to spot the village in the distance, he makes a strange sound not wholly unlike a wounded animal. Breathing heavy, he staggers back, just a step or two, and wide-eyed looks around at woods before stumbling and sitting down on the side of the road. Head hanging down between his knees, he works on steadying his breathing - count to four, breathe in, count to four, breathe out.

Walking down the road toward the village is what he needs to do.

It's what he's going to do.

He's just not able to make himself do it just yet.

Starfall.

At the village, Ethan keeps his distance. He's polite, but wary, and pays close attention to whatever is done or said. Maybe this really is just a nice little village that welcomes outsiders who arrive by mysterious means, but what are the odds of that?

No, he's pretty sure that he is or was dead and either this is some particularly awful flavour of afterlife or some loathesome bio-organic weapon company found his body (...spores?) and jumpstarted him back to life.

Still, no need to be rude until it becomes necessary, so throughout the evening he'll offer to play cards, carry food and drink, and when the locals go to bed, he'll chip in for cleaning.

↪ "Deal me in?"

↪ While sweeping, he turns to another person that appears newly arrived, "What do you think of all this?"

ooc.

Questions, comments, want a special starter, have a wildcard idea that's burning in your breast? hmu and let's gooooooooo.

The Village

[markingnight]

Are you injured?

[ Said by a man who looked like he was freshly arrived from a cosplay meetup. Maybe a ye olde timey medieval reenactment group. Actually, Ironeye looked like exactly what someone wouldn't want to encounter in the woods -- scaled mantle, hood, light plate, with weapons strapped to his body like he was expecting a dragon to wing its way out of the sky. He had a torch in one hand, his single source of flickering light.

But he did seem calm. ]

joan dority | oc | ota.

[poleaxed]

a. ON THE TRAIL.

Since she left Texas, Joan's lived all over-- if you can call it living, sleeping out of cars and cheap motel rooms. The world gets darker if the town is smaller, if it doesn't have a city to keep it bright, but it's still got enough tacky streetlamps to block out the stars. This claustrophobic night reminds her of such places, the burnt-out rust belt towns in Ohio and Indiana. But there's no brick for sound to bounce off, here, just trees to envelop it. The world is silent, still, and Joan's never been an outdoorsy person. She's doesn't let herself stray too far from others on the trail.

"Somebody had to put up all these lanterns... " There's something in her voice, recalcitrance, maybe even spite. She hasn't decided how she feels about this, yet. It's awful, and yet there's wonder in it. She is not the person to whom inexplicable things happen, however horrible.

She's not special.

"Christ, this is the kinda place you get murdered at."

b. THE FESTIVAL.

On the whole, Joan is suspicious of cheer. She enters into the festivities with caution, slow to eat proffered food, slow to smile or dance. What eventually draws her in are the games. Joan is strong-- not impossibly so, she's no superhero, but she's tall at six foot nothing, and her body has the lean, toned muscle of someone who tries to keep fit without a gym membership.

She's won three bouts of arm wrestling before she calls out for more comers-- she's having fun, she realizes belatedly. "Hey, c'mon, wanna have a go? We're betting fruit."

The fruit is being given out for free, of course, but the point is to have something, however useless, to compete over.

c. WILDCARD.

[I'm down for anything, go crazy. PM me if you have questions o/]

on the trail

[ordealwithit]

Unnerving though the dark is, the longer it persists, there's not too much else in the environment itself that flags as sinister to Kel. Honestly, if not for the odd metal roofs back where they'd awoken, at first glance she might have thought she was still somewhere in Tortall. More than anything else, it's been the company she's found that tells her otherwise.

Knowing there was nothing for it but to find her own way, Kel was glad--though that felt like too strong of word--to find a trail to follow, and gladder still to see signs of a town. This is the closest she's been to a win since she woke up, and so she gives the wary woman a small, wry grin.

"Do you think so? Our murderers must not be in much of a hurry, if their plan was to wait around and lure us in with lanterns."

Maybe she's showing too much confidence, but with her glaive in hand, the long staff propped casually over her shoulder with enough leeway to keep the blade safely out of anyone's way, she feels ready to take on... well, reasonable challenges, anyway.

carmichael | oc | ota.

[heurist]

a | YOU WILL CROSS MY PATH AGAIN.

A tall man, hair bleached white, wearing a tie, a button down, slacks and a beige trench coat: Carmichael is doing his utmost to appear nonchalant about his possible kidnapping. He follows the trail all the way to the cairn, all the way to the message.

"You will cross my path again..." he murmurs, tapping his chin. "A threat or a promise, eh? Amounts to the same thing."

He turns on his heel, intending to walk back up the trail-- he's barely just arrived, but he's done now, thanks. Seeing someone else walking toward him, he intends to save them the effort. "Nothing of interest here, I'm afraid. Just some run-of-the-mill spooky bullshit."

b | THE CARD TRICK.

At the festival, Carmichael's set up his own booth on a rickety table. Before him are various tarot cards, which he moves around with fingerlight ease. This is someone well accustomed to cards, to their movements, to manipulating them before a crowd. With one twitch of the wrist, the card disappears. With another, it reappears in his other hand.

"Fortunes, get your fortune told!" His voice isn't especially loud, and if it carries it does by nature of his own charisma: this is someone who wants to be heard. "What can't be known will be known," he says. "This is inevitable."

C | WILDCARD.

[Open for anything, have fun. PM me if you have a question!]

B

[chippin]

“Sure, I’ll bite.”

Johnny pulls up a chair. Leans forward.

It’s bullshit — fate and fortunes; all that — but it’s something familiar, at least. Friend of his recently-evicted brain buddy was real big on tarot. And she was kind of eerily right with every reading, but that’s how this stuff works: vague nonsense.

“I ask a question or what? You peer all deep into my eyes and tell me I’m in for a lifetime of suffering if I don’t wear pink underwear and walk backwards on Wednesdays?”

marcille / dungeon meshi

[picky]

arrival.

[ wherever you are in this wooden-tinny cabin, you're greeted (or awoken) by an unceremonious stuttering and girlish shout before something falls in a heap on the floor, followed by the clatter of a wooden rod.

from the floor, a girl's muffled voice ekes out: ]

Ow, ow, ow...!

[ search for the sound and you'll find a heap of bedsheets on the floor. the whining lump beneath it is humanoid, curled up in a fetal position. a staff with a large, oval head and a little green sprout lies beside it.

help her? rob her? the choice is yours... ]

seek & find.

[ after marcille has her bearings, she's following along the line of the river downstream. where there's water, there should be blessed civilization, and at some point, she stops, raises the lantern in her hand, and squints into the distance.

she then turns to whoever you are and points the tip of her staff into the distance. with an eager smile and a strained, hopeful voice: ]

Lights! I see lights! There has to be someone there who knows what's going on!

starfall.

[ marcille is, of course, enraptured by the show. with her staff tucked into her belt, her hands are free to hold both of her cheeks as she dreamily watches it unfold. by the end of it, she's thumbing away some tears at the corners of her eyes.

when it ends, she sniffs and turns to someone she recognizes from the cabins. ]

That was so romantic...

[ her love of shojo transcends worlds... but her tone drops a little as she leans in towards this stranger, hiding her mouth behind her hand. she stares at them meaningfully. ]

But why is it called "Starfall," you know? Is it because the one who came to meet the other was a star? What does that have to do with us?

wildcard.

[ i'm down for anything! marcille will also be perusing the rest of the festival, playing little games or staring suspiciously at peeled fruit or trying to ask strangers for information. you can find her at the inn or in the cabins. feel free to pm me to plot things too! go wild. ]

seek & find

[markingnight]

Let's not be too hasty. Approach them at speed, and any guards might take exception to us.

[ Ironeye was used to dealing with hostile townfolk, and so his own reaction was a little more reserved. Maybe it was the slightly sinister-looking armor he wore...? Still, the promise of potential information was tempting. ]

It doesn't look far, but should we stop for a rest? I put away a tin or two in case there wasn't any wild game.

crowley | good omens

[demonicmiracle]

camp ⇁ awakening

[Waking up isn't exactly a new concept for Crowley, it's just been a few weeks since he's fallen asleep anywhere other than the Bentley, and that's not exactly the sort of sleep that one would call restful. Nor is it the sort of sleep that's horizontal. The strangeness of it has him scrambling off the bed, then straight out of the cabin, where the darkness is equally strange.

It isn't that he can't see. It's that this sort of darkness is more typical of Hell than Earth, at least these days with light pollution and all that mess.

Crowley look up at the sky once he's assured there isn't an immediate threat in the vicinity, which only results in further confusion.]

Those aren't right.

[He might have spent most of the last few centuries in England, but he knows what the stars look like no matter where he is on Earth.

So this can't be Earth.]

camp ⇁ taste test

[As much as Crowley's itching to leave, it turns out that whatever dragged him here also turned off his ability to move through space, so he's stuck until he solves that little problem. Fucking off into the woods is a possibility, but he isn't going to run off half-cocked when everything is so weird, not without taking better stock of the situation, first.

If that means making nice with the other people who woke up here, so be it.

He makes a half-hearted effort to poke around the supplies; none of them really matter to him, since he seems to be himself enough to not need to eat, drink, or stay warm, but he knows it's important to humans. When he sees someone looking dubiously at the canned food, he figures now might be a good time to interject.]

If you're worried about it, I can give it a go first. Reasonably confident it'll not kill me.

[They might be trapped here for a while. It'd be kind of boring if all the humans died.]

woods ⇁ along the path

[Calling the trail he's found a road feels overly generous, but it's the best sign of life beyond the camp that Crowley's seen, so he's made the decision to follow it as far as he can. The fact that he's wearing skinny jeans and snakeskin boots doesn't seem to make an impact on his ability to walk a dozen miles, nor does the fact that he looks like the sort of person who's never done a single day of exercise in his life.

It's been about five hours of walking and he's kept the same pace the entire time, unbothered by the darkness despite not having brought a source of light. The only reason he comes to a stop now is because the sound of footsteps has caught his attention, bringing his awareness to someone else on the path. A sense of paranoia almost has him stepping into the woods to hide, before he tells himself that he's being ridiculous.

(As if the paranoia wouldn't be warranted, considering the situation.)

Instead, he leans against a nearby tree, trying to look cool and nonchalant while he waits for the owner of those footsteps to close the distance.]

town ⇁ starfall

[Civilization.

Crowley has never been closer to thanking God than he has been the moment that he finds a stall offering mugs of warmed wine. They don't even want money for it, which is a relief; he could likely make some if he tried, he just hasn't wanted to push himself too much just yet. It's much easier to accept the mug with genuine gratitude. The stall holder might have been blessed a tiny bit, an unintentional side effect of how relieved Crowley is to have access to alcohol.

A few hours and several mugs of wine later, he watches the fireworks display and the following story with a wistful sort of expression on his face, before he shakes it off.]

Right. Crossing worlds. Suppose there might be something to that.

[The words are mostly muttered to himself as he contemplates the story. It might just be a myth, but he knows that plenty of myths contain a kernel of truth in them.]

taste test

[taediosum]

[ Arcade looks up from the can in his hand - label hardly even faded, imagine that - confusion quickly supplanted by a skeptical brand of amusement. ]

Noble of you, but I think I'll take my chances. Pre-War stuff might not be my preference, but it hasn't killed me, yet.

[ Worst case scenario, it's just a little more irradiated than it looks, right? ]

But I'll keep you in mind, if I come across anything more daring than canned peaches.

Avella'aera🗡️(D&D) OC

[chaoticnatural]

🗡️Good Morning Sunless Shine

If this is death, don't revive her. She's happy here. A bed with warmth and blankets? She doesn't remember the last time she tranced in one. It's been weeks at a minimum. It doesn't matter that it doesn't make sense. It doesn't matter that the night before she was huddled by a failing fire in a damp cave, surrounded by companions with only tentative trust in one another. It doesn't matter that something is amiss and she's acutely aware of it. That's a problem for later. Five more minutes.

She rolls over, grumbling and swatting at nothingness arguing with her to move. Leave her be, cruel world, for gods' sake you've done enough.

🗡️South: Streamlined

There's a wood elf in worn leathers still stained with blood, quick footed and hopping down the stream at a deft pace. It's a natural agility played off as casual and idle skipping. She knows there's a road, it gets ignored. When has a road ever been wise to follow? But streams? Society likes streams. Streams mean rivers, eventually. She's not attuned to wilds and woods: she's a city breed, long, long detached from nature. But she knows of some things, she's been outside enough city walls to know that much. And damn, would it be nice to just walk on cobble instead of dirt and mud for a change. Maybe somewhere not deranged, maybe somewhere less corrupt? Hah. That's a good one.

But a girl can hope and daydream impossibilities.

At the sound of stirring, the sound of leaves crunching in repetitive steps, cloth grazing against the brush, she'll turn and halt.

"If you're following or something, just say it."

She has her bow over her shoulder and while it stays loosely strung, she could remedy that in a hurry. And if that's too slow, she's got her sword.

She's so over surprise encounters. Please don't make this A Thing.

🗡️Starlight: I never knew daylight could be so violent

"No sun so they make their own. Figures. One fucked up place to another. Ugh. Can't we just get back to the good ol' days? I miss that inn, you know. That was so easy." She waves around one of the fruits she didn't recognize. Moon was it? Doesn't matter. Tastes decent and she's in no position to be picky. But who in the world is she talking to?

"Look, I'm not saying it ended great. I'm saying it worked when it worked. Not everything's about you." She takes another bite while another firework bursts in the sky. The rabbit escaping. Avella smirks up at it in a playful grin.

"It sucks but, hey. At least the food's free, right?" She glances over then, maybe to you. Whoops, company.

🗡️Wildcard

[Feel free to DM to organize, or just spitball. We're easy.]

starlight

[deusexclericum]

Ragn didn't know what he was signing up for when he sat next to this woman. Initially, he'd thought she was talking to him, but it soon became obvious she was speaking with... something else. Something unseen. A familiar, a patron, a spirit?

He has no idea. He's not sure if he wants to know. But it felt rude to just... walk away? So, unfortunately, he has been sitting here listening to this mad elf woman speak to an invisible entity for gods know how long, quietly shoving small cuttings of fruit under his helmet. At least the fruit is good. And free. He nods absently at the comment.

...

Oh. Wait a second.

"... It is!" he replies late, perhaps a little too excited to be spoken to. "As are the accommodations, and everything else it seems. Quite a friendly little town we've found ourselves in. An Azgalian paradise."

He says it politely, but... he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little suspicious of it all. A society with no economy, no trade, fully self-sufficient and equal to all men? Not even the Azgals would dream up such ridiculousness.

"Perhaps it's just... part of the holiday traditions." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than anything.

The Cleric | Esoteric Ebb

[deusexclericum]

[A - Rude Awakening]

[For the second time this week Ragn awakes to scattered thoughts and an unfamiliar room. This time, at least, he's in a bed and not the slab of a lichhouse, his cloak dry and his body well-rested. His limbs don't ache when he sits up, chainmail rustling as he swings his legs over the side—he's still in full uniform, so that's good. He taps a knuckle against the helmet on his head, then the clasp of his cloak. Meek doesn't stir, either dormant or tucked away, and so the next box on the checklist is to dip a hand into his pouch...

... and find nothing but a familiar, sinking feeling. He pulls the pouch loose, turning it inside-out. Empty. No incense, no trinkets, not even Meek. Not a single crown or shard to be found.

Again. Gods. Why does this keep happening to him?

The man sighs, slouching as he ties the pouch back onto his belt. Well... he'll probably be fine. Meek has survived on his own before, and so has Ragn. Just focus on the now, stay calm, and try to remember...

As he leans back to think, his hand brushes against something thin and sturdy. He picks it up, squinting under the dim light. A piece of cardstock. Familiar words, unmarked boxes, a crease from where he must've slept on it.

All at once, it comes back to him.

His voting card.]

Oh... oh, Urth, the election! Am I too late?! How did I— Where is—

[And then he fully gives up on staying calm in favour of standing up, looking for the nearest person in his vicinity and grabbing them roughly by the shoulders. He shakes his unfortunate victim, shouting like a madman.]

What day is it? How long have I been out? Oh, gods, I didn't even vote! After all that talk I forgot to vote! Did they announce the results yet? Did anyone win? Are we in a democracy?!

[B - Towards the Unknown]

[By now, he has some idea of where he is. Not Norvik. Possibly not even Jor's Realm. He has endless questions and no one who can answer them.

No one but himself, of course. This is definitely some kind of esoteric bullshit, which makes Ragn the de facto expert of... whatever is going on in this place. Which is the question he will answer, by himself, using his unmatched intellect, investigative skills, and arcane prowess. Yes.

He declares all of this with confidence before wandering into the wilderness. He gets lost almost immediately.

At least he's not difficult to find. A glowing orb of white light trails along beside him, so... sorry if you thought you spotted a city in the distance. Maybe next time. The Cleric, at least, gets excited at seeing another person. He waves his arms enthusiastically.]

Ah, hello there, citizen! Are you a native to this fine realm?

[C - Starfall Festival]

[Eventually, Ragn does find his way to Stonesthrow. There's a lot to take in, here. People to question, places to investigate, mysteries upon mysteries upon mysteries.

And a festival! Despite the difficult journey through the hills he's all-too eager to lend a hand, the siren's call of a self-proclaimed quest impossible for him to ignore. One thing leads to another, and he somehow finds himself watching one of the food carts. Why that is even necessary when everything is free, he doesn't quite understand, but a job is a job. He will earn his keep whether these kind folk desire it or not.

Of course, when he recognizes someone from the cabins, he can't help himself. He waits until they pick out a fruit from his cart and take a bite.]

That'll be one thousand crowns for the starfruit.

[D - Wildcard]

((Happy to match prose or brackets, either is fine with me! Feel free to hit me up at BlueFlewFedUQueen or PM if you have a different idea!))

starfall festival

[webnovels]

[ Rather than revealing that he's been to a few stalls already and figured out that people around here don't even have a vague idea of what monetary exchange is, Dokja nonchalantly takes another bite of the starfruit. At least he tries to sound a little worried when he speaks up. ]

That's pretty expensive. And I have exactly zero crowns.

[ One might think that would be his cue to put the bitten fruit away, but he just continues eating it. ]

Devi D | I Feel Sick/JtHM

[artistwithasickness]

Arrival

"Oh fuck." Devi, half upright in a bunk and a room she didn't recognize, hadn't remembered falling asleep. Hadn't slept in days actually, and the feeling of being well rested was just as strange as waking up in a place she doesn't know. Scrambling onto her feet, she does a quick once over check of the room and herself, surprised to find herself fully dressed and even more surprised to find her trench coat balled up on top of her backpack to serve as part of her pillow. Those small comforts were immediately snatched up and slipped on to cover her multi-layer thick strapped tank top and the tattoos that peaked over her shoulders, to match the one on her arm. With that armor on, the panic around her is tampered down and wiped from her face, leaving only her green eyes glittering sharply as she takes in any other unfortunate souls that might have woken up with her.

"Please tell me I'm in Kansas and that you're not real." She wasn't sure what kind of answer she expected - a No would be just as suspicious as a yes. Isn't that what a hallucination would say? Isn't that what Sickness would say?

Regardless, she was keen on the door and getting out to explore just how far whatever this was went exactly. If this was some cosmic joke, some twist of control that Sickness had managed to take of her reality, she planned on finding the seam that held it all together.

The Camp/Seek & Find

85% of Devi's worries vanished once she got a sense of the camp and the fact that the people in it existed and seemed, by and large, normal. That didn't stop her from filching a small knife from the storage building that would live in her belt at the small of her back and some few pieces of foodstuffs just in case - peaceful or not, Devi's back hair was up. She didn't trust anything the situation suggested just yet. It would take her several days to fully resolve that doubt. But no one was in her way and so exploring she went.

North path

Devi doesn't get far up the north path before stopping and staring in abject dismay at her surroundings. The lantern she'd taken gave off a faint light that did little for her ability to see what kind of climb she was really looking at from her perch on a big-ass rock. Having given up far too early, she sighs as drops herself onto a big rock to watch those few souls who were also interested in the northern path.

"You'd think LA would have better prepared me for a hike," she says, mostly to herself. When she spots someone about to pass her, she calls out.

"Hey, if you don't break an ankle, tell the rest of us if the view is worth it!" She was betting the money she didn't have that at least three broken ankles would appear inside that many days, if not more. She, frankly, didn't plan on being one of them. The last thing she needs is an injury.

Starfall

The South path had been much more Devi's speed and while she passed the time on her very long walk chatting with passersby and with a tear of jerky - god she hoped it was deer or rabbit or something and not the dark alternative her head so kindly provided, she was delighted to see a town. A town! A town meant a place for more food and maybe even some pencils or paint powders. If this wasn't some fucked up mental cage or daydream she had been stuffed in, then she needed supplies - paint was always going to be the top of that list.

That was until she saw the food carts. Gone was the constant loom of paranoia, pushed back to a dull hum or awareness muted under her hunger and surprise at the lack of required payment.

"Free? That feels like a trap. You're sure?" Everyone else who was eating everything got a good look once over. No one seemed to be dying. Not yet anyway. But the growl of her stomach is more than enough pressure for her to cave and order three different things, all of which were eaten at a speed that seemed misaligned with Devi's slimness. She ate from cart to cart before a Starfruit ends up in her hands and she bites at it as she watches the fireworks.

"Fucking beautiful, aren't they?" She hadn't so much as looked at the person she leaned in to comment to, but her whole attention couldn't be pried from the fireworks for anything. "How do you think they do it? Get that much color in so many right places.." She hadn't ever seen anything like it.

[OOC: Feel free to Wildcard something in between if you'd like! Happy to talk about it, either in a dm or over at figmented! Flexible on prose/brackets!]

arrival

[against_descent]

"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. Though having never been to Kansas, I suppose we could be there. Unlikely, though."

She lifted her chin, grey eyes narrowing at the other woman. Cass had just been eyeing the tattoos before they'd been covered, but it was more interest than judgement.

"And I am...well, I'd hope I was as real as you are." Though she supposed that was a metaphysical argument that could be had.

She didn't have enough whiskey for it, however. So that might have to wait. Though clearly, the other woman seemed as keen on exploring as she was herself.

"Don't suppose you would care for backup, if you're going out?" Not that Cass didn't prefer to work alone, all things considered, but having a modicum of caution here probably wasn't a bad idea.

Grace Ashcroft | Resident Evil Requiem | just lmk about spoilers

[imfbiuwu]

A. A Spark in the Night

[Ow.

Her first observation is how much everything hurts, but given that she'd definitely just passed out onto a floor of rubble, this isn't that surprising. She is a bit surprised to be in a...bed? A bunk? She flails a bit, trapped in the blanket as she confusedly tries to get her bearings and rolls right off the bed. Thank god she's on a bottom bunk]

Ow! Shit... What-- Where's-- H-h-hello?! [She sits up, squinting in the dim light with mounting confusion]

B. Seek & Find--Stonesthrow

E-excuse me, do you know how to get to, uhm... To Raccoon City? Or...Wrenwood? How about a phone, at least? ...No?

[Grace tries to ask everyone the same questions about Raccoon City, about Wrenwood, a phone, etc. but no one seems to have any idea what she's talking about. She scrubs a hand over her face, feeling exhausted all over again.

She wants a bath, if nothing else, and a change of clothes into something less saturated in blood and grime. Well, no. She wants answers. She'll accept the bath and clothes, though, since no one seems to have the answers she seeks.] This is insane... What's with this place...?

[She finally slumps down into a seat, her body reminding her just how much of a beating she'd taken over the past day or two without much rest or pause. It's hard to notice when adrenaline kept you moving in a panic like that, but now that her body's seemed fit to deem this place safe, she can feel it in every muscle. Grace groans a little as she rubs at her non-injured shoulder, nose scrunching in a grimace of pain. There were inns, they've gotta have comfier beds than that cot or sleeping outside, right...?]

C. Starfell

[She admittedly rather nervous in the crowds like this, offering an almost pained grimace of a smile if anyone greets or talks to her and quickly shying away from the festivities.

The fireworks are beautiful, but the people make her feel dizzy. She wanders the outskirts of the crowds, watching them and watching outward for-- signs of a threat? It feels silly, but she still feels jumpy. Gideon and them couldn't have given up so easily, so who's to say they aren't waiting in the crowd or watching from somewhere safe? When was the other shoe going to drop??

She accepts a starfruit with a mumbled, confused, 'thanks...?' before she tries to ask for what she should be giving for payment. The other person seems just as confused at what a payment is supposed to be, leaving Grace fumbling as they leave.

With a heavy sigh, Grace gives the starfruit an uncertain look, turning it over in her hands before she looks to someone else for some kind of reassurance] H-hey, um... E-excuse me? Is this... safe? I-I mean, all of this, is this all safe? It's so... Weird. I-it's weird, right? I'm not the weird one for thinking it?

D. Wildcard

[For anything else!! Grace is from shortly after fainting after watching some security footage which is all I will say to not give out any spoilers. IYKYK. Just let me know if you're cool with spoilers, though I will try to avoid them regardless]

starfell (spoilers a-okay)

[taediosum]

Uh, no. Definitely not just you. It's - well, weird's as good a word for it as any, I guess.

[ Safe is harder to quantify. But Arcade somehow doesn't think brushing it off with a joking non-answer is going to cut it, here, given how antsy she is.

He shrugs, considering the starfruit he's had foisted upon him, as well, and a passing group of locals, eagerly chowing down on their own fruits. ]

I don't think it's dangerous, though - the food, anyway. Jury's out on the locals, but they don't look like the human-sacrificing sort to me, at least.

[ Okay, maybe there will be a little bit of a stupid, sarcastic (probably ill-advised) joke, after all. ]

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas

[taediosum]

I. a spark in the night

[ Arcade is easy to pick out of the dark, tall and broad-shouldered and draped in a dirty white coat that's still just bright enough to defy the camouflage of shadows. Not to mention the faint, green glow of the plasma pistol on his hip. He's being as quiet as he can, slipping out the front door of the cabin he woke up in, but there's nothing stealthy about it. No help for that, though.

And it hardly matters, anyway, when he nearly runs right into somebody else, as soon as he rounds the corner into the deeper dark behind the cabin. ]

Oh. Hey, uh. I was just wondering where everyone went. You know, usually the kidnappers stick around long enough to do the whole menacing, intimidating... thing, right?

[ Does he really think this person kidnapped him? No, almost certainly not, given they look about as lost as he feels. And also looks. But sarcasm accounts for about 90% of his self-defense mechanisms. ]

II. seek & find

[ There's a worn, dusty pack left over in the storage cache, and it's in better condition than pretty much anything Arcade's found to salvage, recently. So he fills it with a handful of essentials (not much, enough food to ration for a couple of days, matches, one of those spare shirts to pinch hit for spare bandages), and heads out.

Or, well, intends to. But that unmoving darkness (amplified by those alien stars) is enough to give him pause, where the dim, barely-there lantern light fades at the edge of camp. He can't stay put (he hasn't been able to for weeks, and the twitchy, jumpy, paranoid air of someone who knows they need to keep moving is unlikely to leave him any time soon). But, in Arcade's experience, wandering off into unfamiliar darkness alone is not the wisest choice. When one has the luxury of deciding whether or not to make it, anyway.

So he waits for someone else who looks like they're leaning toward the southern path. ]

Strength in numbers? Not for nothing, but if we run into trouble, I can patch you up.

[ The doctor's coat isn't just for show. ]

III. starfall

[ Oh, good. Glowing fruit. If it weren't so concerning that everyone seems perfectly at ease eating these, Arcade would feel right at home. As it is, he's skeptically eyeing the half-peeled starfruit in his hand, even if he hasn't quite checked out on trying it, yet. ]

Well, my fingers aren't tingling and I don't detect any radiant warmth. So the rads must be pretty minimal, at least...

[ It's just too bad there's no one around with a Geiger counter to confirm. ]

[ feel free to switch to prose, i'll be happy to follow suit, pm to plot w/me, etc! ]

seek & find

[coolerjunpei]

[Junpei's approach isn't stealthy - he's found himself what's probably supposed to be a fishing jacket, but he's filled the pockets with the rest of his supplies, and so he jostles and can-clanks a little when he walks. He startles when he hears a voice in the mostly-dark anyway, like he's not the one making the weird noises out here...

Well, it's fine. He frowns and gives this stranger an overt up-and-down, as if perhaps deciding if the coat and the overall look of "smart guy (<- glasses), probably?" legitimizes the patching claim.]

What kind of trouble are we talking? Like... mountain lions, or guys with knives and an addiction to stabbing?

[It's not a no.]

Were there first aid kits back in the shed...?

Methos | Highlander

[live_growstronger]

A Spark in the Night

[The moment conciousness begins to return to Methos, his keen sense of awareness kicks in. Wrong. This is not where he'd gone to sleep. There's none of the sounds he'd grown accustomed to in the bustling city of Paris. No faint light streaming between curtains. This bed while not uncomfortable per se, is far from his tufted and hand stitched mattress and the sheets a far cry from the carefully chosen soft linens that he knew to be his own.

His hand moves on instinct to feel next to the bed for what he already knows will not be there. His sword is gone. Despite the panic rising in his guts, Methos opens his eyes slowly to face the darkness and the flicking lantern light on the other side of the room.

Out of bed, he can feel that at least his clothes are his own. A knitted wool sweater and jeans. His shoes are set at his bedside. The questions of how and why flood his mind, but there's no one to ask yet, seeing as the others in the room are still asleep in their bunks. Sliding out of his bed, he moves toward the wall away from the light of the lantern. There he does nothing for a few moments, watching the others as they stir. Are they all in the same predicament or is one of them the cause? Finally, not wanting to be accused as the kidnapper himself by suspiciously standing in the corner, Methos moves to the bunk beside his where he sees someone starting to wake, voice gentle as he reaches out a tentative hand to a shoulder, but prepared should their reaction be less than friendly.] Hey, are you awake? Do you know where we are?

[He's expecting not, but might as well ask.]


Seek & Find

[While the old Immortal had grown quite accustomed to modern conviences, he's more than capable to roughing. He'd thousands of years of experience under his belt on how to survive with very little in many number of different terrians and enviroments. That doesn't mean that if any were around that he wouldn't happily complain about it! Or it seems, he'll also happily complain about it to the trees, or the campfire he's made for himself as he cooks up a tin of vague meat product while taking a moments reprieve from exploring the path south.

He's doing it again in the morning(?) as he kneels, setting down his pack of supplies, to observe the stream-- adjusting the lantern beside him to get a closer look. His tone is dry as he speaks.]

'Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.'

[The sigh he lets out is discontented at best.]

Speak for yourself Wordsworth, I'll take my books over this any day...

[He sticks his hand in the clear water testing the temperature.]


Starfall

[The people of Stonesthrow offer little in way of explaining his predicament in finding himself here. It only leads to more unaswered questions. Methos doesn't believe they are nefarious in nature at least, sure of his ability to read people in general to determine that much. That didn't mean they couldn't be a threat, but it did mean that he could allow himself at least a little fun in what appears to be a celebration. When in Rome?

So it's with a full belly of free food, a pack full of various trinkets, and a warm wine in his hand that Methos settles down to enjoy the fireworks and then the play of Starfall. Two lovers meeting against the will of the gods. As the performance ends, he claps, but looks contemplative leaning toward to person next to him that he suspects is a new arrival like himself.

What is the message of this tale, do you suspect? Is it encouraging us to defiance? Or... is it that love is more powerful than even the gods?

starfall

[demonicmiracle]

[Regardless of his own messy, frustrating feelings about the whole star-crossed lovers conceit, Crowley is trying to decide if there's much meaning behind the story, so he isn't too surprised by the question.]

Plenty of people have stories about the gift of fire. Prometheus, Tlacuache, Māui — [He makes a 'so-on-and-so-forth' sort of gesture, partially because he can't be bothered to remember the rest of them.] Fire's important, imagine it's even more important when the bloody sun doesn't come out.

[Which doesn't even make sense when there are plants, but he's probably already ranted about that several times. No one needs to hear it again.

And complaining about the lack of sun is bold coming from an asshole wearing sunglasses, but here they are.]

An Zhe | Little Mushroom

[littlemushroom]

Beginnings—
He woke up.

That was the part that surprised An Zhe the most at first. The concept of being awake after a stretch of nothing at all and then the slow, deep ebb of dreams. The darkness that greeted him made him think he'd simply gone back to how things had always been. A little mushroom all on its own in a world too large to even fathom. But then his eyes began to adjust, and he began to realize he had eyes at all. Eyes that could make out the objects in the room, hands that could grasp the edge of the bed, ears to hear the silence of the strange room he was in. He still had a human body.

... That appeared to be all he had, actually. That made sense, he thought. He pulled a thin cloak of hyphae around his shoulders and set out into the unknown.

The second biggest surprise was that the sky was as dark as it was. The stars that shimmered were beautiful, but there was not a single whisper of the aurora. Its absence made his heart race, but everything else seemed... calm? There was confusion in the air, but it was... peaceful. Quiet.

For a long while, he simply sat the edge of the stream, staring up very intently at the long flowing blanket of stars. But once it became too chilly for someone bearing the elements on their own, eventually he'd wander back to the camp. Or perhaps a concerned fellow traveler could point him in that direction? Ill-fitting clothes were still clothes at the end of the day.

Starfall—
The town was another surprise at the end of a long walk. An Zhe felt immediately overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds. It was so vibrant! There was so much life! He could imagine the settlement in the sands had once been a place like this one, full of laughter and song. He rubbed his chest a little, letting himself get caught up in parts of the crowd.

The extravagant displays of food were startling. He'd never seen so much in one place? And there were so many kinds? Was it actually meant to be eaten??? What even were most of these things? An Zhe would wander from one spot to another, looking at everything with eyes wide as saucers. He did not take any though, not knowing what these humans' methods of payments were yet. It didn't occur to him that the answer could simply be none.

As for the fireworks, he was quietly sorry to literally everyone because he was going to abruptly stop rrriiiight here in the middle of everything as the lights dazzled overhead. They weren't the aurora, but they were certainly many other things. If he was in the way, please feel free to shove him aside.

When it was time for the stage performance, the crowd moving towards it swept him along with them. That was fine. It was something he was interested in seeing. It flowed like a piece of history these people wanted to remember, like so many of the pieces of literature he had read to the younglings or the music that Rum would play for him. A simple tale of lovers that shouldn't have been, of circumstances that should have been too much, and yet—

An Zhe did not notice when the tears started to fall from his eyes.

Wildcard—
Feel free to drag this mushroom into other scenarios if you'd prefer. I'll gladly match tag formats if you'd rather do brackets!

fireworks

[ordealwithit]

An Zhe doesn't need to worry about having halted right in the middle of the crowd to be enraptured by the dazzling lights, because Kel has done exactly the same thing. And, big sturdy girl that she is, she naturally absorbs most of the jostling for him. Most of it.

What she can't quite absorb is the gaggle of children that barrel right through them. These, she nimbly swerves and hops to avoid, but there are too many, and the press of the crowd around them is too close; when one youngster darts right between her legs, shrieking with laughter, she's forced to lurch forward and catch herself with a hand on An Zhe's shoulder, lest she crash into him more violently.

halsin ⸙ baldur's gate 3

[treefather]

A Spark in the Night
[When Halsin wakes, he can tell that something is off. It's subtle at first, then more obvious, as he climbs out of a bed inside a cabin, rather than his bedroll on the ground inside his own familiar tent. There are five other beds inside the building he exits, and more cabins scattered along a sparse path as well. And there is no hint of the moon in the sky, only unfamiliar stars arrayed in constellations that he does not know.

Elven darkvision is not infallible, but it does help in taking in his first sights of this new world. (And it must be something like that, to not even have familiar constellations in the sky to navigate by. This is not Faerûn as Halsin knows it.) His lined face creases in concern as he gazes upward, searching, perhaps, for signs of a hidden moon covered by clouds, but- no, it's a clear enough night, there just isn't a moon.]

I suppose I cannot entirely rule out alien abduction... [He mutters under his breath, though anyone approaching could likely still hear him. There is no reason to panic, he thinks, and- he can hear the stirrings of others in the other cabins, footsteps. There are other people here, who might want light, heat. First order of business, and what you might stumble upon him doing, is searching for firewood and starting a fire in one of the designated campfire spots scattered about.]

Who was here?
[The camp is halfway decently supplied, to the massive wood elf's eyes. There isn't a lick of dust, and yet the only other people here seem to be those who woke in the cabins like himself. He doesn't do much rummaging in the storage building, though there is one thing he figures he could stand to... borrow, if he can find one.]

Have you seen any hunting knives? [He asks the other person in the shed with him, eyes fixed down on the contents of a crate, picking through it gingerly, as if not wanting to disrespect others' belongings.]

I wonder if the people who lived here will return soon.

Starfall
[Halsin isn't sure if it's another oddity or a relief to realize that, downstream from the camp, there is a real town, full of living people. They seem... friendly enough, and he is friendly back, though no one he speaks to seems to know why he's here - or care, honestly. They're busy with their festival, this Starfall. He can't fault them too much, but still, his search for answers is useless and frustrating in the end.

He's found a nice spot to watch the final fireworks show, not exactly giving up, but- picking at a scab does no good. He needs to stay calm. Halsin is 350 years old, after all - he has time to figure out why he is here, where is here, and how he can return to his companions, who still have not resolved the worms in their heads, nor the looming threat of the Elder Brain.

Weathered hands work almost unconsciously, a small knife scraping over a little chunk of wood like a ritual, whittling while he watches the fireworks off and on. It's taking shape already - two figures, a rough interpretation of the two lovers in the Starfall tale. Glancing over to the nearest person, he remarks companionably,]

What is your take on this place? It seems friendly enough on the surface.

[Prose or brackets are fine, I'll match. Feel free to wildcard. Hit me up at nekky if you want anything special!]

a spark in the night

[depressured]

[ There hasn't really been an urge to panic or anything yet, though there's a little ball of unease in her chest that refuses to let up, because she's yet to find anyone familiar and even more unsure that she wants to. It's a complicated feeling that she doesn't want to think about quite yet, so instead when she comes across someone being Productive and presumably looking for firewood, she latches onto that.

Are his ears...?

Well, not important. ]

Would you mind if I helped you?

Keladry of Mindelan | Protector of the Small

[ordealwithit]

...hello

Yes, so Kel woke up in an entirely foreign land of darkness. And yes, she's quietly stressed out of her mind, the duty to return to her responsibilities at New Hope, to her friends, to Tobe weighing heavily on her shoulders.

But sitting around and panicking is a useless activity, so Kel crams the urge to panic deep down somewhere in the back of her ribs and gets right to business. There are other people here who may need tending, or who might be able to offer some clue as to how she got into this mess and how she might get out of it.

So, I'm so sorry if you're asleep, but she is knocking on your cabin door. If you open it, you'll find a tall, stony-faced girl carrying a weapon even taller than she is, the five-foot teak staff propped over her shoulder, the 18-inch blade at the end of it glinting in the light of the lamp she carries in her other hand. I'm sorry if this is not immediately a reassuring sight.

high tech mysteries

The discovery of the storage building leaves Kel with more questions than ever, most of them lending to her growing unease, but, well, gotta use the tools at hand. Lacking her bow and arrows, Kel sees little sense in disrupting the local game if she doesn't have to, but she does help herself to some fishing line and hooks.

And then she gets caught up sorting through the mysterious little metal blocks and cylinders with equal measures of fascination and skepticism. When you come near, she'll gesture at you with one, incredulous. "This can't be good, still, can it? It's too heavy to be dried."

[ Feel free to hit me with a wildcard if you've got something else in mind! And you can come at me with brackets if you prefer, I'm happy to match! ]

high tech mysteries

[lightreturns]

Equally skeptical, Anduin's brow furrows as he's greeted with a young woman waving a metal cylinder at him. And yet, it looks vaguely familiar--he's seen goblin cast-offs before, though he isn't intimately familiar with tinned food.

He searches his memory for what little he does know about it, and then shrugs. It's nothing he can be confident in, unfortunately, and he isn't about to prevaricate, here.

"Maybe? Where I'm from, goblins use cans like that to store food. It seems to work, though I don't know anything about the method of doing so. Or whether or not it's any good," Anduin admits, sheepish. "Though I think a good strike with a sword or a heavy knife could probably lop the end off, and you could just stick the whole thing in a fire if you want the contents warmed. I think."

Paladin Danse | Fallout 4

[androidvictoriam]

spark in the night

[ He wouldn't say no to a flashlight, the depth of the darkness making his skin prickle with nervous energy, but this cabin is otherwise downright idyllic compared to the camp situations Danse is used to waking up in. Structurally sound? Noticeably devoid of skeletons, ghouls or giant irradiated roaches? The bunks have blankets?

That, nearly as much as the unexplained teleportation itself, is what's setting off instant klaxon alarms in his head. It's already too suspiciously good to be true, even before he ventures out to the placid, perfectly-supplied campsite. He draws his laser rifle, quietly switches off the safety, and keeps it at the ready--

--but lowers it just enough not to be outright threatening the first person he encounters, after a second of squinting evaluation in the dim light and a confirmation that he's not being shot at himself. ]

Don't touch anything. This is a setup. I hope you're sensible enough to have realized that too.

northern path

[ It's nearly half a day of travel before the futility of what Danse is doing begins to sink in. He hadn't wanted to waste time waiting for the sun to rise before getting out of this obvious-seeming trap, however much traveling in the dark might unsettle him, but it had never occurred to him that it possibly wouldn't.

But whatever time it had been when he'd first woken, even presuming that night had only just fallen at that point, something should be changing by now. Something besides the stars should be starting to break through that oppressive black pall, and nothing is.

He's sitting down and resting now, several hours' climb up the mountain path, not because he feels particularly worn out, but because what else is he going to do? What little of his expression is visible in the low light looks distressed, vaguely lost. ]

Something's wrong. I thought getting to higher ground would have been the surest possible way of determining the lay of the land, but it's no good if we can't see beyond our noses.

...Should we turn back?

southern path

[ Danse is not in the habit of trusting water sources that haven't been rigorously tested, purified, and then purified again for good measure just to ensure that they won't make your hair fall out.

Not that he really has a choice in the matter right now, despite the lack of equipment with which to do any of that, but he will make it known that he isn't happy about it. The grousing ceases once his eyes have adjusted again to the camp lighting, and he gets a closer look at the water he's so suspicious of. ]

Is that a fish?

[ Hostile mutated crab-things, he might have expected (and welcomed, as a wasteland delicacy.) Maybe something disgustingly amphibious and equally, violently dangerous. But he's never seen a simple, clean, living fish before. ]

I've...always wanted to try fishing. I don't know exactly what it entails, but you always read about people doing it.

starfall

[ One would think Danse would find it reassuring, after all of that harrowing travel through the dark wilderness, to be surrounded by friendly people and sources of light again.

It is...not, entirely. He doesn't do well in crowds of strangers. But he's trying. And at least in this context, he'll trust the food with a bit less hesitation, reaching curiously for a starfruit and savoring the sweetness of it like nothing he's ever tasted back home. He's not sure he could even have imagined that, back home.

Fifteen minutes later, he's decked out in the prizes from two arm-wrestling contests, grinning with broadness he didn't even know his face could manage as he sits back and looks around. ]

I could go for a hat trick. Anyone else want to try me?

[ The arms one will have to wrestle here are pretty impressive. ]

spark in the night

[deusexclericum]

[The moment Danse says that, a man in full chainmail enters the light—candles and food tins and a tackle box piled in one arm, a fishing rod and an axe gripped in the other. Ragn freezes in place like he's been caught in trap.

... but he isn't. At least not yet. A few seconds pass before he relaxes, though he still refuses to drop any of his newly-acquired gear.]

You think so?

Salome | FGO

[jokanaan]

I - Awakening

[She sat outside of the cabin, head tilted up at the stars with a strange smile on her face. One that never wavered at all; not since she woke up, not since she stepped outside, not since she began to rock back and forth on her heels in thought.

This isn’t Chaldea. She hadn’t been summoned.

So then just what, oh what, has she found herself caught in? Salome doesn’t know, if she had a head for magecraft she might be able to make some guess. But as far as she was aware, something had called her here. Her, and those in the cabin she had awoken in. Quietly, she hummed to herself, debating on whether she should explore, wake someone up, or just stay put.

Slowly, her heel rocking stopped, and she turned around back towards the cabin. She had almost forgotten something important! That smile still ever present, though looking a touch more sinister, unnerving, playful.]

Oh, Jokanaan! Where are you, my darling Jokanaan~!?

II - Southern Path

A town? Oh wonderful! Do you see that? A place where everyone can rest.

[Hopefully, it’s a town, that’s for certain, and she can spot and hear the sounds of people milling about in it. Yet, there was still something about the town that placed her on edge. Salome didn’t feel threatened exactly, and neither should her traveling companions! What, with her beloved’s head ever watchful and vigilant.

The skull in its unearthly glow and flames that danced around her, floating in the air alongside that large plate. The one that looked as if it was once silver but was no tarnished with something red and a dark crimson. Salome herself only mentioned the skull as being her beloved Jokanaan.

Of course, if anyone wanted to pry any deeper, she would gladly open up more! But for now, there are still other things that are likely more important to deal with. After all, everyone’s been walking for quite sometime and is likely feeling it!

Well, Salome isn’t, in fact, she seemed to have energy to spare!

A trait from being what she is, a Servant.

But she hasn’t mentioned that yet either.]

III - Festival

Fireworks Story Time:

[Oh, what a lovely tale she had heard! So very romantic! It truly spoke to her in more ways than one! Throughout the whole story she had been lovingly petting the top of her skull as she holds it, looking wistful the whole time.]

Ah- so beautiful, so beautiful and precious.

[She sighed, and leaned against the nearest body, still holding her skull.]

Games

[There are so many games that Salome wanted to play! So many prizes and treats and things to enjoy. She was absolutely tingling with excitement. She had asked if someone, probably you, for help at winning a prize! Dragging them around this way and that, laughing, giggling, smiling the whole time.

She’s a whirlwind of energy as she flits from one stall to the next.]

Neh, neh… Should we try the arm wrestling one next?

[Salome looks up at you, stars in her eyes and a charming look on her face. Like she’s asking you to impress her!]

IV - Dance the rest of the Night

[Dancing had always been something she was good at. The one thing that she felt she can excel at above all else. She moved with the music, her revealing clothing enhancing her enticing movements, the sheer cloth of her head dress mingling with her long hair moved together like water and air.

While she moved alongside the music played, her steps were still their own, as if catching and laying claim to the notes of the instruments being played. Enticing, exotic, pleasing, seductive, all of these things and more were on display as she moved.

Why is she dancing? Who knows, she just had to when the music began and she noticed the bodies moving alongside it. Yet Salome still made certain to capture the attention of all present.

And, during this time, she laughs lightly and pleasantly. A hand is held out and her eyes meet another person’s (yours?). It’s beckoning, encouraging them to join her and take hold of it. It’s as enticing and sultry as the rest of her moving form and as enchanting as the look and sparkle in her eyes.

A gesture and offer that a person is very likely going to find exceedingly difficult to refuse.]

[WILDCARD]
[ooc; hit me up with whatever! or feel free to message me if you’d rather plan out something in particular!]

Arueshalae | Wrath of the Righteous

[desnandreamer]

A Spark in the Night

[Arueshalae's emotions spike to near panic the instant she shakes off the sleep. The unfamiliar bunk alone would be enough to set her off, to say nothing of the surroundings and the potential for this to all be some sort of insidious illusion. Her hands immediately reach for the comfort of her weapons, and she breathes a soft sigh as they find the solid wood of her bow.

Rising as silently as she can, she hunches down and slips into an especially darkened corner to take in the room without being in the way as others begin to rise. E ven with her inhuman senses the dimness makes it difficult to discern faces, the world presented in shades of muted grey.]

Commander?

[Arueshalae calls out in a soft voice, tone concerned and wary. She's hopeful that one of her companions is present, but the realist in her would settles for strangers who aren't hostile.]


South Path

[Arueshalae briefly considered staying put, but it made much more sense to keep moving, if nothing else to find a source of food and water for the other people caught here. Being able to see in the dark meant that she was uniquely suited for exploring this odd land, after all.

The north path she'd turned back from when she realized it was sloping upwards. Mountains could be treacherous even when you had wings, and she didn't think it wise to go that way in the dark, so south it was. The sound of flowing water was encouraging, and she took a moment gather a little on her way. That meant food, as well, so Arueshalae began gathering up big of primarily young wood. Sitting by the riverbank on a large flat stone, she began humming a little melody as she worked, not hiding that she was there if anyone happened to be nearby.]

Starfall

[Arueshalae's explorations eventually lead her to the little village, and to it's little celebration. She remains a little apart from the bulk of the crowd, wings drawn tightly around herself to be as unobtrusive as possible. Being around strange mortals that were unaffiliated with the Crusade was an awkward experience, and she preferred to observe at first before really engaging. The fruits are enough to catch her attention though, and she does idly munch on one of the moonfruits, studiously avoiding the other.

The fireworks displays are certainly wonderful, a reminder of some of the Crusade's celebrations of victories, but one in particular stands out. A series of pyrotechnics all go off in rapid succession, the sparks taking the forms of dozens of moving butterflies. It's enough to make Arueshalae's throat catch, her smile growing bright.]

...How wonderful.


Wildcard

[Want something else? I'm happy to do other prompts or whatever you like! PM me or hit me on Plurk at intercession]

A Spark in the Night

[inreprisal]

[Awakening in the cabin to start isn't as disconcerting as it should be. Xiao has spent enough time in strange beds and flop houses in the travel as of late, much more then the comfortable days at Oxford had been. The voice that speaks in the dark however is not one she recognizes and that is enough to flag concern. Where had she been last, fallen asleep. She shifts to move to sit up in the bunk house and drapes her legs over the top bed, had she slept in her skirts and jacket? That's not right either.]

I'm no commander...

[Her eyes slowly adjust to the dark, not enough to take in the full form of the woman crouched in the corner. Instead just to note that's someone there.]

Sherlock Holmes | Young Sherlock

[artinmyblood]

South Path

[Sherlock was born and raised (for a time) in the country and there's a natural outdoorsy-ness that's never left, even if he has made the conscious decision to become more urban. It's the sort of thing that sees him instinctively gravitating towards the stream rather than the heights. A mountain may mean a vantage point, but what good is that in the dark? Streams lead to rivers and rivers to oceans, and those are far more promising prospects.

It's all rather pleasant really, if one doesn't think too hard about the circumstances; following the sound of rushing water downstream with strange stars overhead and the cool night air on his face as he does his best to avoid tree roots and other hazards. He's taken one of the camp's lamps and rigged it as best he can to be something closer to a proper Victorian dark lantern, wrapping material around the sides to try to focus the light in one beam instead of allowing it to shine wherever it pleases, and it's enough to be getting on with even if it isn't ideal. The sound of a splash has him using it to scan the stream. A few fish dart by, startled by the light, and Sherlock hmms thoughtfully.]

Pity the tackle's back at camp. This would have been a good place to cast. I don't suppose you brought any?


Starfall

[Sometimes coming from the past can be a boon. Sherlock doesn't have the benefit of a modern palate in any sense of the word. Victorian England is full of the new and exotic and technologically advanced, yes, but he hasn't been jaded by constant exposure to a world of constant motion and sound and special effects. A world of new tastes and experiences aren't available with free shipping at the tap of a digital button. That and he's still a relatively sheltered young man. Little things still delight him.

At the moment Sherlock's completely enthralled by the fireworks display. The fruit he had been eating hangs forgotten in his hand as he stares up at the sky, eyes wide with wonder. The next rocket bursts into the shape of a flock of songbirds and he's half-certain he can hear them singing as they fly.]

They're awfully clever, aren't they? Better than any magic lantern show.

Wildcard

[Anything else? Feel free to dm me or, heck, just go for it probably. I can happily do prose or brackets.]

starfall

[friendsto]

[James thinks it's a trick of the light for a moment, all that bursting color in the inky black above casting strange shadows; some that might go so far as to warp strange faces into familiar ones. So, of course, he strides forward as more explode and pop in the sky, to verify that this is, indeed, a rather familiar face and not just his eyes having a laugh at him.

Speaking of laughs — he barks one out, pure surprise upon seeing exactly who it is, and the fireworks display suddenly becomes quite secondary to this new revelation. Dark brows shoot straight up.]

More sparkle and showmanship than any Bonfire Night I've ever seen. Eh, Sherlock?

kim dokja | omniscient reader's viewpoint

[webnovels]

1. camp

[ While the camp makes a great stopping point considering how much loot whoever set it up left behind, Dokja isn't planning to stay here for too long. The idea of exploring an unknown area alone isn't exactly enticing, but his options are limited. Lingering around the abandoned camp won't help him progress, so the only reason to stay is to have a look at the resources left behind.

The scenarios were supposed to be over, and yet he feels like he's been tossed right in the middle of one, except that no screens show the clear conditions.

After stacking all the tinned foods he's found so far on top of each other and forming a small tower, Dokja catches a glimpse of an assortment of tools, matches, and a few candles. There's a can opener too, so he decides to take a risk and try opening one of the tins after lighting up one of the candles.

That said, the contents don't look too appetizing. After checking out three more cans with similar results, he heaves an exasperated sigh. Had the people who decided to camp here packed spoiled food by accident, or is it actually edible? Dokja doesn't feel like finding out, really. ]

Eat at your own risk. [ If someone happens to get curious about the cans, Dokja offers them a warning and a shrug. Maybe it's on him for getting spoiled by eating delicious meals cooked up by the regressor. ] I won't stop you if you really want to give it a shot, though.

[ He might watch and see... maybe the canned food really is edible. ]

But we don't really know who left this here.

[ While that's stating the obvious, maybe he's trying to make sure that whoever is tagging along won't make a stupid decision... maybe. ]

---

2. north path

Gee, thanks.

[ After reading the line etched on the surface of the cairn out loud, Dokja expresses his gratitude for the warm welcome with a bit of sarcasm. All the effort he put into climbing this mountain has gone to waste, not to mention the time. At the very least, he tries to examine the cairn more closely, looking for traces of writing, but even though he's a reader, there's nothing but that mocking message.

Dokja turns to his companion, his shoulder slumping a little. ]

Back to the darkness we go... unless you have another idea how to get down fast.

[ He has a few suggestions, but there's no need to reveal all of his cards right away, is there? ]

---

3. starfall

[ For the past few days, Dokja has been observing the stars in the night sky with a weary gaze. There's no reason to think that something is wrong, but he can't shake off the unpleasant feeling that the constellations might still be watching and mocking them, even in a seemingly different world. Honestly, he's not entirely sure what the situation is yet, which is a little unnerving. The festive atmosphere is a little distracting, but not enough to make him fully relax.

After overhearing a conversation between two locals about the effects of starfruits and moonfruits, he rushes to one of the many food carts, where he's offered samples of one fruit each. Dokja eats the starfruit immediately; however, he doesn't bother trying out the other one—he might be lacking in many departments, but perception and cunning are exceptions. He'd rather trade the moonfruit for another starfruit, so whenever he sees someone carrying a fruit he's seeking, Dokja won't hesitate to approach and offer a trade.

After watching the final firework show, Dokja tags along to watch the stage performance and listen to the tale of Starfall. The romantic story makes him feel a little awkward, even though the plot isn't anything extraordinary. For some reason, he doesn't head back to the camp after the festival wraps up, but decides to stay behind and watch the night sky. At one point, when he thinks no one is looking, Dokja pulls out his phone and tries to turn it on, his attempt ending in a failure accentuated with a deep sigh.

Then, he notices he's not alone. ]

Hmm. [ Dokja hums and allows the silence to linger for a little while longer. ] I guess no matter where we end up, they really do love a tragic romance, don't they?

---

4. wildcard

[ Open to all prompts, feel free to PM if you'd like to plot or request a custom starter! For anyone canon familiar, his canon point is Chapter 516 of the webnovel. ]

starfall - stage performance

[emotive]

[Ai Thao had allowed herself to relax and enjoy the festival that Stonesthrow had to offer. It seemed a shame to stay back at the campsite when there were so many activities going on. The performance maintains her attention and for a short period of time, Ai lets herself be swept away by the romantic story.

She wonders what it would be like. It wouldn't make sense logically, but it made sense to her emotions.

The show is done and she claps along with the audience members and when the silence falls, it's Dokja's words that pique her curiosity.]

Ah... Was the story not to your taste?

Gyro Zeppeli ✘ Steel Ball Run

[gogozeppeli]

✘ ⸻ A Spark in the Night.

[ A loud yawn echoes throughout the cabin as Gyro stretches his arms over his head. He stares blearily at his surroundings, sleep still crusted around his eyes before letting out another loud yawn. He slept like the dead. After winning the first stage of this cross-country race, Gyro retreated into a local inn to get some decent rest. However, he doesn't recall his room for the evening looking this dilapidated or having this many bunk beds. ]

What the hell—

[ He swings his legs over the edge of the bed without thinking and promptly falls. It seems he had the top bunk; fantastic. His pained groans could be heard throughout the cabin. ]

Ow, fuck! Ugh, my nose!

[ Yeah, he's having a great start. ]

✘ ⸻ Seek & Find: North Path.

[ Gyro was hunting for dinner after his rude awakening and raiding the storehouses. He took the north path, which led up to what he assumed was a mountain trail. It's dark outside, a little too dark. He's forced to rely on his lantern for light because there is no moonlight to guide him. It's frustrating, to say the least, but at least he can see the road ahead of him.

Still, doesn't it seem strange that the stars aren't out? Gyro finds himself looking up at the bleak, dark skies in wonder. Snap! Suddenly a twig snaps behind him. ]

Who's there?!

[ While this man appears to be unarmed, he is heavily armed with two steel balls. Not even joking. Gyro has two steel balls holstered at his hip where a gun should be. While he might not be the quintessential cowboy, Gyro at least looks the part. ]

Better make yourself known before I get pissed off!

[ He has a very short temper. ]

✘ ⸻ Starfall.

[ As the fireworks explode into the ink-black sky, Gyro stands in the middle of Main Street, his gaze fixed upward. He watches in childlike wonder as bright purples and yellows illuminate the dreary night sky, bringing color to this bleak place. It's fascinating to watch, perhaps too fascinating for someone like him who has never seen fireworks before, at least not up close. ]

Well, isn't that nice? [ He mutters in a whimsical tone. His blue-green eyes sparkle with newfound appreciation as he examines the nearby food carts. While he is really worried about the race, Gyro knows worrying isn't going to get him anywhere. He needs food, something to ease his hungry stomach.

While the rabbit he caught earlier was a nice little treat, it's nothing in comparison to some of the food here on display. Gyro's mouth is just watering from anticipation. However, he is a little disappointed to realize meat isn't on the menu tonight. ]

It's all fruits? [He whines before snatching one of those roasted starfruits on a stick.] Why the hell is this glowing?

[ Gyro eventually takes a bite after sniffing it. While it's not half-bad, he should get some real food in his stomach soon. However, he gets sidetracked when he sees some guys armwrestling nearby. Not one to just stand by and watch the action, he tosses the fruit on a stick aside as he approaches the group. ]

Alright, which one of you tough guys wanna go?

[ After eating a piece of starfruit, Gyro feels like he has the stamina of ten men! Sadly, he doesn't exactly have the strength of one. Still, he's giving to give it his all. ]

✘ ⸻ Wildcard.

(Have something else in mind? Don't hesitate to contact me! Either DM or contact me at devillady)

Seek & Find

[mikoshi]

Right, peeps don't like it when you sneak up on them. Forgets not everyone has night vision, or infrared, or appreciates being observed (stalked) from a distance. Common shinobi L.

But in V's defense, 1) this is his line of work, old habits die hard and 2) this guy is interesting as fuck, that with being Jinguji'd down to the socks, poster boy for an Americana meets Neokitsch collab fashion line — and that's not even the most compelling part of this dazzling spectacle.

What the fuck is that holstered at his hip?

"Chill, choom," V announces as he materializes into the path, hands in the air, unfazed by the darkness all around him. Under normal light conditions they'd be practically imperceptible, but here, the piercing red lasers at the center of his pupils don't inspire confidence. "Wanted to see if you were ever gonna use those steel balls of yours. Didn't mean to stalk, promise."