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. ]

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.]

[chippin]

“Well, since you asked” — Johnny would’ve chipped in regardless, sure, but it’s different when he’s yapping at V — “‘fate’? Come on. Humanity’s really got a thing for lookin’ up at the stars and tryna make sense of that shit. Someday those stars are gonna burn out, and what then? Still gonna be a love story they tell here or they gonna switch to some boohoo break-up bullshit? Real inspiring, that.”

Twirling his sunglasses in hand. Missed V’s chatter: doesn’t even bother trying to hide that thought, knowing he can’t.

“What’s got you piping up? Didn’t have anything to say earlier when I busted into a rotten can of beans? Don’t tell me — you wanted me to eat that.”

[mikoshi]

Cooked his brain well-done to the point it imagines a conversation like it's nothing. Too numb from Mikoshi still — and choosing a little comfort because, zeroes and ones or not, he's human after all — he decides to indulge.

Maybe it's self-harm. So's smoking like a chimney. Vincent hasn't decided if he's gonna quit in this life or not, twirling a cigarette in his fingers like it's one of his knives.

Probably won't. Wants to hold onto it, let the tobacco burn his lungs, fill him like Johnny once did.

"Do ya one better — navigation. Nomads still use the stars to ride whenever GPS fucks up, or don't want whatever corpo is in the area to pick up our movements. Can't deny there's somethin' heartwarming 'bout using the same points of reference we've been using since before we fucked up the planet from boardrooms. No matter what, we're still apes awed by the pretty lights upstairs. S'hope."

Snorts at that. Shame he missed it. Definitely would've said something snarky. Tit for tat, quid pro fuckin' quo. "Guess I just missed ya, is all. World doesn't feel right without your commentary. So here I am, imaginin' a conversation with the guy I gave my body to... which he has very pissed 'bout and tried to rage bait me into not doing it."

[chippin]

If Vincent’s brain is cooked, so is Johnny’s. Same pot, and all. Apparently missing that constant simmer enough for whatever the hell this is. Hit that boiling point, didn’t they? Poof: gone. Never thought he’d still hear that voice so damn clear, though.

“Good luck navigating with the stars when there aren’t any.” Then, thoughtful: “You think they got any here? Nomads? Saw a whole lot of fuckin’ nothing out there.”

Johnny assumes no, in whatever weird world they’ve ended up in, but it’s nice: the thought of familiarity. Comfort, even though it was never his story. Just V’s.

“That what you think this is? You imagining? I’m the one who’s lost his damn mind. See what giving me your body’s led to? Watching shitty plays about love ‘n stars. That what you wanted for me?

“Nah. Know what I think?” Glancing over at V. “Dead. Only real explanation, right?”

He reaches over to grab V’s cigarette, just to prove a point, when he actually manages to touch the damn thing. Squeezes it in his ‘ganic fingers.

“Well, shit.”

[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 ]

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.

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/]

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.]

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. ]

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!]

[blackmold]

Of all the things to be worried about, an escapee from Medieval Times Tournament and Dinner, isn't high on Ethan's list of concerns. If anything, it makes sense in a 'sure, why the fuck not' kind of way.

"I...you know, I left the cabin and didn't think to check." Ethan blinks once or twice and does a quick check. It's a practiced movement that suggests he's fought in the past and knows how to do a pat-down to find injuries that were missed due to an adrenaline rush.

"Nothing new." Another deep, unsteady breath, and he runs a hand through his hair. Still missing two fingers on the one hand, and plenty of odd, deep scarring over both his hands. "Are you local?"

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?

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. ]

[markingnight]

I doubt it. [ What, he wasn't sure? Well, one could never tell with these things... ] It's night, and yet it's not raining. That would be very unusual for Limveld.

[ He took note of Ethan's systematic self-accounting. Curious how efficient he was if indeed it was merely fear that had taken hold of him. 'Nothing new'. Meaning that old injuries were nothing out of the ordinary? ]

And you -- you aren't from around here, either?

[blackmold]

Some things are so ingrained that even in the edges of a full-blown panic attack, Ethan can do them unprompted. Checking for injuries? Easy. Reloading his gun? You bet.

Walking towards another damned village?

...eh, maybe not.

"No. I'm ...last I was in Romania, but I grew up in Oregon." He's never heard of Limveld, but it sounds South African, maybe? Or is that just the veldt?

AWAKENING

[catsgothistongue]

[They say your brain has a way of detecting when you're being stared at. Perhaps that is why Mafuyu's snoring bunkmate below stirs awake not too long afterwards with a groggy mumble.

Ranma pegged almost immediately that a.) this isn't the dojo - unless the Tendo patriarchy neglected to pay the power bill though that doesn't explain away the missing sight of the starry night, and b.) this isn't his bed. It wasn't uncomfortable, mind you, it's rather cozy. He's half-tempted to roll back over and return to dreamland.

The pair of eyes belonging to a stranger nixed that head. Seeing the faint traces of purple in her hair illuminated by lantern light made Ranma initially consider the creeper's a certain wall-destroying girl... before he remembers that Shampoo has no paradigm of personal space. Oh, and the differently styled coiffure and colored eyes tip him off too.

Ranma doesn't freak out. He remains cool as a cucumber, staying still laying there on the mattress. Silently staring back. Like this was an impromptu staring contest.]

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.

[markingnight]

[ Ironeye, who was better-traveled than most, found this even more curious. He shook his head. ]

Never heard of those. Planning on heading out there?

[ He motioned to the village in the distance. ]

They might not be keen to see strangers. But either way, it seems like our best bet for answers.

[picky]

[ if he's still wearing that sinister-looking armor, she's only now getting a view of it after bringing up her lamp to this stranger. she swallows the little scared stutter in her throat. this person doesn't seem hostile so far. ]

I know that... [ pouting a little. ] I wasn't saying we should charge in or anything like that.

[ then she tilts her head. a part of her is undeniably hungry, but: ]

Really? But... if you don't have much, you shouldn't share it with a stranger. What if you need it later?

[markingnight]

[ He motioned to the bow he bore on his back. ] There are birds and hares around. I won't go hungry. And...

[ A slight pause, as he considered the situation. ]

...As strangers in similar circumstances, I think it's best to work together. It's no use if I'm the only one who keeps up his strength.

[coolerjunpei]

[Maybe this time it's as easy as the food being spoiled, Junpei thinks as he turns the can over a few more times. Maybe they're all just going to get food poisoning and puke their guts out until they're dead in this dark-as-hell campsite. That would be original, right? That would be less insane than every other time this mysterious kidnapping routine has happened to him.

He hasn't decided yet if that's better or worse. So far it's a new kind of torture just thinking about it, which is... well, which is.

He hmms vaguely and sticks the can in one of the cargo jacket pockets.]

Nothing in here looks like it's been here for years... but you never know. We're in the middle of nowhere and I haven't heard any delivery trucks yet, so I guess we can narrow it down to not today.

[Or not in the past few hours, at least. Maybe. It could be a quiet truck. Wouldn't be much more suspicious than the unlocked doors and big open area of apparently unmonitored land, in the end.

He picks up another can.]

Maybe they're... locally canned? Sooo, botulism instead of mercury poisoning.