TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025

[thediadem]

Test Drive ∞ May 2025

The First Collision

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Jump ⇅ :: Arrival — Panorama — Fringes — Invite Request

The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.

Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.

But first, you need to find a ride.

No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.

∞ Summary ∞

IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.

Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.

Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:

• Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
• Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
• Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
• Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
• Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.

TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.

TDM Questions? Here — Game Questions? FAQ

Setting — Taken — Reserves — Applications ::: ⇅ Top

Fluxdrift

Arrival & Introduction

Date: Throughout May

You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.

Then you open your eyes.

Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.

You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.

Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.

You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender

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Panorama

Explore & Settle In

Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers

After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.

You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.

The Pavilion: Free Samples

©

Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.

Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.

As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.

Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.

The Blocks: Power Outage

©

Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.

What do you do? You have three choices:

• Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
• Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
• Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall

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©

The Fringes

Quad 3: Lockdown

Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads

Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57

> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.

Whether you end up here on your own or you were following a tip on the Forum, the outcome is the same: you come to a stop in front of a 2-story office building that's flooded several inches deep. Emergency lights from a roadblock flicker through the stormy night. Stepping out of your car, you're soaked within seconds. When you check your phone, you don't have any bars. No calls in or out.

Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.

Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.

After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.

A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.

Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.

Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.

• To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
• The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
• With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
• If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.

Let's hope a friendly face comes along.

B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.

• The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
• Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
• You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
• Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.

Of course, you don't have to help anyone. You can leave the individual there, make a deal, or outright extort them. But remember, you're not the only person on these roads. You might want to play your cards carefully, even if altruism isn't your first instinct.

Main Navigation ::: ⇅ Top

Comments

[satanicpanics]

Jesus Christ. Of course it is.

[ See, that makes a lot more sense. They’ll really give anyone a car, huh? Once again, Eddie increases his own speed to match Henry’s. He glances own at his speedometer and snorts as they reach a cool 20 mph. ]

Oh, yeah. We’re really cruising now, man. Speed like this should be illegal.

[ His sarcasm is easily detectable, but it doesn’t last long. He peers through his own window toward the other driver and heaves a deep sigh. He can’t just leave this guy to his own devices. It’s not his fault the guy at the scrapyard will apparently give a vehicle to anyone without a quick tutorial first.

He’s honestly kind of shocked Henry even got it off the lot. ]

Okay, listen. I’m not trying to give you a drive’s ed lesson or anything, but, uh…from what I can tell? This road is a straight shot. No turns, nothing to hit, perfect for someone who can’t actually drive, but—if you don’t switch gears? You’re gonna blow the engine and then you’re not gonna be going anywhere. Did the guy at the scrapyard show you how to do that?

[haemophile]

The truth is not exactly something Laszlo usually trades in, but he usually doesn't deal with witches, either. He's already spun up about three different lies in his head, but none of them are frankly very good—you dropped your wallet won't work if he can't actually produce one—so he decides to wager on their mutual kinship as creatures of dark power.

He still turns on his charm, though, because that just happens automatically.

"I was preparing to kill you," he says lightly, his fangs flashing in the moonlight as he smiles; it's kind of funny when you think about it. He assumes she's already clocked him as a vampire, so he doesn't explain further.

"Of course, I didn't know at the time that you are what it is that you are. Mea culpa. I do apologize for the confusion."

YES DESERVEDLY!!!!

[pagings]

[ matt stops immediately upon her don't and karen tries not to feel... not satisfied, because that's a bit too harsh, but she does relax a marginal amount. she's not in a place to have this conversation, not right now, not when they need to get out of this. and once they're safe, and free of the slowly rising water, they can return to whatever it is what matt had planned on saying.

or maybe they won't. maybe they'll get outside this glass and matt will just disappear, again. karen hates that her mind immediately goes to that, to the after, to what it is she's supposed to do with that after- but then she shoves the thought away. they have to get through the now, first.

matt follows her to the spread of desks, and Karen lets go of him when he feels it's safe enough that he'll stay close, shuffling through the drawers, pulling free notes and folders. she tries tor read them, blinking and shaking her head when the notes start to read a bit too familiar, knowing how this goes. knowing that it's not right. even so, the words pull her, thoughts and angry words she's only told herself in the safety of her own head, or the darkness of her bedroom.

a code matt's voice breaks through her thoughts, jerking her out of the stillness that had threatened to settle over her. she looks back to where matt is fumbling around on the desk, confused at what he's looking for, and she's about to say as much when he lifs what looks like a plastic folder. ]

What? [ she asks, closing the distance back over to him and pulling the sealed package from his hands. ] Where did you find this? It's- [ she scans the pages, checking over the lines, the shapes she sees. her eyes widen when she realizes she recognizes them, her gaze turning back to him. ] This is it. This can- [ she turns it over in her hands, starts to read some of the additional instructions along the back, as she distractedly grabs his arm and starts to walk them both towards the window. ]

You found it. This will open the window, but- [ she stops, reading the line over and over again. she tries not to sound panicked when she continues. ] The panel- it's outside, around the back. We need. [ a beat, she swallows, and then exhales. ] We need someone outside to do it.

[frighteningly]

Mm, not quite.

[ The flickering globule of fire is a convenient light source, so she keeps it buoyed above her hand. It doesn't seem like she intends to do anything with it.

Curiosity threads through her next words. ]

What were you hoping to accomplish?

[vaimanat]

Her eyes turn down in a polite smile. No one finds her gifts particularly thrilling these days. Her children long past such easy wonder.

Not since that day, anyway.

But it is nice, as she lifts her fingers with a flick and the soup rises and falls up like a ribbon to splash back into the pot. The look on her features a little oh, this?

"I am Daughter-Sea. Blessed of such gifts."

[frighteningly]

My chariot is quite unique. I have been told it is called a hearse in some townships.

[ Nadiya enjoys the exaggerated trunk space and the way a few cars have pulled over to let her pass when she's been driving. Not many, but enough that she isn't assuming it is a coincidence. One day, she'll learn what that word means. For now, she's filing it away with other words she's learned recently: car, truck, petrol. ]

Like you said, your key goes into the ignition. It's a type of physical password. Your vehicle will not turn on without it.

[ A gesture toward his car. As far as she's concerned, they're not going to learn much by staring at it from five feet away. ]

Would you like to try?

[oomfies]

[ That's— entirely probable.

(Honestly, she probably already heard about it and just forced herself to imagine life in a world where mugging wasn't a common occurrence. It's far more comfortable, as it turns out! Yay!)

Reluctance oozes out of her as she comes to terms with the fact she's right. And.. Also picking up more of her things, she should probably help—? ] Yeah, but.. [ But she's quick, and Lottie's left to stand and wonder if one of those things she dropped was her toothbrush (gross..). ]

It's so creepy staying inside a place with no lights..

[eyesite]

( really, martin doesn’t need to feel a lick of jealousy toward oliver banks, because his visit had been less of a “pep talk” and more of a “reality check”—he’d been frightened into a neutral, passive state, simultaneously too afraid to allow himself to die and too afraid to see what exactly he would wake up as should he decide to live on. he’d justified his choice, of course. he may be an avatar of the Eye, one of the selfsame creatures he had treated with such trepidation and wariness, but he was still himself; enough so that he could still do as they had been doing before in foiling the rituals of the other Powers’ servants. ah, but he’d told himself that at the time, anyway. he isn’t sure what he thinks about that decision now. selfishly, of course, he wants to live (he’s still afraid to die), but—the knowledge that the rituals were all doomed to fail anyway and how he himself would eventually be used as an unknowing instrument for one that actually succeeded… weighed heavily. ultimately it would have been better for everyone if he had chosen differently, though that wouldn’t safeguard some other poor fool for falling into the same in the future.

his expression falls as he considers his response; he’s tired, so tired, but he’s also… present. the calamitous series of events that had landed them right here felt as though it’d just happened, and yet when he tries to cut apart and cross-examine the things he’d done and the decisions that he’d made… he knows that he made them. but he has no idea how much of that was him truly believing it was the best plan, or perhaps he simply thought it was the safest, or it was the guilt that would come with loosing the Fears upon other worlds, or perhaps it’d just been too difficult to resist the Eye’s call to take his place as its pupil himself. that, or maybe he’d just really wanted to kill jonah magnus himself (sorry, martin). the truth is probably a fine, indistinguishable melange of all of the above; it’s just a shame he has no idea of the composition. )

I still made the decision without you. Without any of you. ( but— ) And… you suspected as much and did the same.

( the lighter. it had always been a blind spot. regardless, the sting of perceived betrayal tends to hurt less when one did essentially the same thing. he exhales a sigh. ) So, let’s just say we’re… even.

( it doesn’t feel particularly worthwhile to self-flagellate now. as far as… roughly five or so minutes of casual observation can tell, it seems as though annabelle cane had been right. the Web’s plot had gone off exactly the way they planned for it to. concerning… but, well. at least they seem to benefit from it in the small way of still being alive, and all.

what martin offers him is helpful, healthy, even, but john doesn’t seem too receptive to it just yet. he frowns, shifting in the cot in discomfort. ) I’d rather not miss literally being a part of the fear and suffering of all creatures in the world… ( because that was a piece of it. he’d just spent so long so deeply saturated in it. it’s obvious to him he’s no longer as close to the Eye as he had been, but, well, prior to being stabbed, he was basically as close as he could be to it without losing himself to it completely. that was no longer the case, as was the fact that he was no longer connected to the world he had created (presumably because it had changed when the Fears had been pulled out of it). as for being completely severed from the Eye, though… he’s not sure. hadn’t what annabelle said pertained to him if he’d actually stayed in the world once the Fears were removed from it? what about now, when they’d seemingly been pulled along into the crack in reality after them?

no… no, it’s probably not that easy, nor that simple. but he will probably have to figure out where those borders lie later.

when john tends to look inwards and self-reflect, he tends to get… dark. he, at times, can be a critical person, and he’s especially critical of himself and his own mistakes. but—he feels martin’s hand brush across his brow, and his attention is pulled back and toward him. he focuses on his face, on the steady warmth of his hand grasped in his own, and so much of that tension and anxiety slackens and begins to fade away entirely. martin… he’s a better reminder of who he is, or who he wants to be, than anything else. but this is what they had ended up becoming to one another—just as john had managed to give martin enough vision to see, to bridge the immense emotional distance of the Lonely and climb out of it with him, so too did martin continue to find ways to keep him from losing too much of himself to the Eye. a glimpse of humor returns to him, hooking in at the corner of his mouth and tugging it upwards into a smile. ) Yes. I do. ( he listens to all the tapes, remember? some, he’d listened to more than others. sitting up still feels a rather tall order, but moving his arm is far more manageable; he lifts it so he can place a kiss on the back of martin’s hand—the romanticism of which gesture is probably immediately disrupted by his smile cracking wider, another couple of hoarse laughs, and him continuing, ) For whatever reason.

( it’s not just him being self-deprecating, martin!! he had been so mean!! he listens to all the tapes!! he knows! but, hey, he’s not about to start complaining!! )

Time, though. Right. ( he lowers their hands. ) Hm… When was the last time we had time off?

( though… they’re probably about to learn about all the caveats of their new-found time off from being constantly embroiled in end-of-world scenarios. yom crook and the medical staff have very politely given them some time to sort all of this out (surely they get this every one in a while from certain fluxdrifts?), but their particular wake-up call and reality check was just as similarly predestined as oliver banks’ had been. )

[tirejacked]

[Look. I can't stop thinking about how horrific it must feel rn. Lucina is Naga's soggiest soldier.

Anyway. He knows he was alone in there. But for all he knows she doesn't. If she was willing to try diving back in there for him, it's not like he could trust her concussed-looking self not to try running right back in for stragglers if he gave her half a chance. He knows the type. (Don't ask how.)]

Oh, yeah. Me, I'm super.

[He had like. A whole couple inches of headroom to spare, probably. He's clearly not super, but he's breathing, and outside the oppressive chaos of the room the anxious gnaw of being trapped (of the staring, empty faces on the edges of his vision) fades back to a nagging buzz. The familiar feeling of danger remains. But that, he can work with.

He has less point of reference for what the street looked like while he was stuck inside, so his attention is, still, mostly on keeping out of the impossible upward flood. But he does let up on the pressure once she's proven she can keep her feet under her and not get swept up in a stray wave as the last dregs of water crash past them.]

What about you? Sure you know which way is up, right now?

[Get hit in the head before he got to you or something? She hadn't been gone that long. And what else would cause that kind of disorientation? The blood on her face?]

sorry to dogpile but the cards prompt is so good

[exarched]

[ ooc; also in act 2 rn! ]


[ With resident hooligans appropriately dispatched and some peace re-established, G'raha does what any normal person would during a blackout--not sleep. No, he slept for over two centuries, he will spend as many nights up and exploring, thank you very much.

As such, it isn't long before he runs across a woman playing cards in a very particular fashion. It doesn't take a mage to recognize magic, but this exceptional type isn't one he's seen often outside Sharlayan (or so he believes it to be).

His eyes are wide with clear wonder as she summons a new card and G'raha finds himself smiling easily. ]

I happen to be a fan of cards and stars both.

[ He turns his gaze up towards the night sky. Other portions of the city are still well lit, making the light pollution on the horizon dull the edge of the night. What few ones he can see are far and few between--foreign. ]

Though I cannot rightfully say I recognize those that grace us this evening.

[ He glances at the woman. ]

And you...?

[ Does she recognize them? If so, that could certainly be a lead. ]

[oomfies]

[ There's a manual? Sounds boring.. Where? Every corner of this gross thing she's checked mostly had dust (yuck?) and dead bugs (gross!). She guesses that would make sense, there being one for a car.. But why read a manual when you can watch a youtube video? Or google it?

—And then it hits her, the agony of the fact none of that is there and he really expected her to like, read that? Lottie looks at him, her own brows furrowed (deeply, then minute, like she's aware of how mean she might look when he's doing her a favor). It's hard to get a genuine read on her, what she's feeling, right up until she laughs.

It's a weird little haha, coupled with a look of vague disbelief. ]

What, like— [ A pause, as she thumbs at her hair. ] did you read your manual?

[oomfies]

W-what— what the fuck!!

[ She watches it all happen in slow motion, probably because there's no hurry to Anaxa's entry. It's almost like she's stopped on the side of the street and is picking up her bestie! Definitely not like some rando hopping into her passenger seat! For a brief moment, Lottie seriously debates hopping out and running away (stranger danger, obviously!).

But then she remembers this is her car and, so, she's technically trapped. And that he's still here. She leans as far away as her seatbelt will allow, foot accidentally brushing against the accelerator. They jolt uncomfortably from the speed— ]

How did you get in here??

[ lottie you didn't even lock your doors ]

[argumentiste]

[ Truthfully Alisaie had passed the threshold for being concerned several days ago. One would think that after coming off the tail end of a very dangerous adventure that she'd want a break, but her age seems to come with the advantage of having boundless amounts of energy.

Her lips quirk again apologetically and she can't help but laugh a little. ]

Forgive me. I seem to have read too many tomes and novels about adventures but I hope my intent is clear.

[ There is definitely something else brewing beneath the surface of this lawless town and she doesn't need to be able to see aether to know it. Sinister plots aside however she offers out her cup filled with cheese towards the young woman. ]

Oh. And people often go into debt for them?

[decussate]

[ He'll find a thick scent of iron emanating from the room, and the woman standing over the would-be burglars. The intruders sit slumped but upright with their hands loose in front of them, the picture of docility. Yet they're a little too motionless — undoubtedly because of the holes punched through each of their chests. The blood that runs from their wounds tarries on the way to the floor, pooling in their clothes and laps.

The Knave turns when addressed, flat of expression as her gaze settles on Adrian once more. She has no weapon in hand, nor does blood stain her person. For all the world, she could be stumbling on this scene by pure accident. ]

Ah, so you've cared to join me. I trust you've already seen to your friend?

[ Her voice is smooth, even pleasant, as if they might be meeting at a cafe for lunch. Nothing to suggest she could be planning to turn on Adrian next. ]

Sally Boyle | We Happy Few

[fuckinabucket]

[ OTA Top Levels to Follow!
Discord: mjmagpie1312 (Slow Paced & Shy!)
DMs also Welcome!
Monarch of The Wing It Let's Go~]

[exarched]

[ Catching these ne'er-do-well off their game would give them a distinct advantage, especially if they can act quickly enough before they cause too much trouble. He is glad to see his new companion is of similar mind. Equally, he can recognize an incantation when he sees one and the opportunity to view any new type of magic is one will gladly take.

The hand that appears gets a wide look of awe from G'raha. Magnificent! Made of some sort of unaspected aether? It looks almost ghostly, but clearly coalesced enough that it has form to hold and manipulate objects.

A perfectly executed prank. G'raha covers his mouth to stifle any laughter and the mirth in his gaze is clear, even in the dim light. Considering the unnecessary "quest" he sent his very dear friend on so long ago in Mor Dhona...yes, he thinks that there is something to this angle.

He nods. They are not partners in crime. ]

"Fuck no, fuck Tilda!"

[ G'raha peers back down the stairs. While the crooks argue, a gentle green glow swirls around in his palm, accompanied by a light breeze. For the bit, he blows on it, sending the small ball of wind tumbling down the stairs. Once it hits the floor, a whoosh of wind flies about their feet, sending the curtails of their coats and pants up. ]

"The hell was--"

"See! I told ya! There's something here."

"You idiot, you broke open the window! Of course there's gonna be a breeze."

Arrival & Introduction

[fuckinabucket]

🤕⛑️😠A😠⛑️🤕
[ So this is what it feels like to go absolutely bloody bonkers?

Zero out of ten, not recommended by mod girl Sally Boyle. Her mind can hardly make sense of it. One moment she was in the General’s boat on the open water with her baby in her arms. The next moment, some kind of hideous crashing, the sound of shrieking shredding metal, and a darkness rushing in all around her. What the hell happened? Did she crash into something? Where there rocks around the archipelago? And most obviously–

Where the bloody hell is her daughter?.

No one Sally asked had even seen a baby. She’s been pointed to 'her things' and almost climbed out of her own skin at the sight of her repurposed Doctor’s bag (a secret baby carrycot) just stacked by the entrance to the medical tent. But Gwen wasn’t inside; just her extractor, and a clutter of other familiar but largely useless items. Withered nonsuch blooms, Gilead rose seeds– did whoever packed this think she’d be planting a fucking garden?

Sally grabs the bag and storms outside with the aura of a woman who could burn the world down if only she had a single match. This can’t be happening– this isn’t fair– this–

She roars in frustration as, leaving the Med tent whilst you enter, there is a sudden blunt collision. It almost knocks the rather petite woman right off her feet. Her expression is skipping like a scratched record, caught somewhere between rage and despair where neither are ever allowed. ]

S-sorry [ she manages to choke out. Her eyes shine, too glossy above her forced smile. ] Clumsy me.

🏍️😢📕B📕😢🏍️

[ God her head hurts. That must be the godamn concussion they told her about.

Sally’s never driven a car before in her entire life, so even if she did not have a splitting headache and half her typically short amount of patience, she’d still have little idea what to look for or what to ask for in terms of a vehicle.

What she does ask for is a good bargain (considering that looming medical debt she’d rather not add onto intensively, but here we are) and what she gets could have been better, but it could have been worse. Just a modest ride all around. Sally tosses her hefty bag into the passenger cart and stares at it wildly for a long moment. Would it be too mad to just… tear off all the extra bits and bobs? The apparatus so Gwen could breathe? The extra sound proofing? The nonsense dials to hide the purpose of its design?

She seriously considers it for much longer than she’d like to admit.

… Maybe later.

Sally steers her ride out of the lot proper, and spends a good deal of time on the cusp of the property reading and re-reading the instructional manual that had been provided. When she’s not paying attention, her hand drifts back to the heavy leather bag still resting so quiet and still on the passenger cart. While she’s reading, she might just end up petting the secret carry-cot, or even rocking it slightly.

Catch her being weird? ]

🃏🛞💥C 💥🛞🃏
i) Flat Tire: Find Sally on the side of the road trying to change one of her Tires!
ii) Fender Bender: Oh no! Sally crashed into your vehicle! I hope you don’t mind that stylish new dent!
iii) Wildcard: Something Else Entirely!

[eyesite]

( it’s not that her intuition is wrong. john hadn’t stopped to cause trouble, and he’s more likely to offer help, but… well, one can never be too cautious with eldritch agents such as the Archivist—while it’s not typically in his purview to kill or inflict bodily harm (neither had much value to the Eye, after all), there are still other trespasses and greater horrors that can be inflicted either wittingly or not. he feels moderately convinced he’s in control of himself and his faculties. but when someone comes by certain qualities of their patron so naturally, it can be hard to puzzle out whether or not that sense of curiosity and desire to pry for more and deeper details was innate or the subtle pressuring of something beyond yourself. or both.

yes, harm and death meant fairly little to the Eye—the former could provide only limited sustenance, and the latter was actively contrary to its desires. it preferred to mindlessly amass knowledge and secrets, finding most satisfying those that detailed unique and personal experiences of fear and trauma.

fortunately, john is resolute in avoiding such unseemly topics during a casual (ish?) meeting like this. for now, at least. )

Ha. ( he acknowledges the answer with a single, dry laugh. ah, but aren’t they all, aren’t they all?

he stops his approach several feet away from the front fender of her car, respecting that boundary of space. he slips his hands into his pockets, casting his gaze around the desolate landscape. there are actually several landmarks, albeit distant ones, that he feels he almost recognizes, but… one thing he’s learned in his own traveling over the past week or so is that things tend to move around out here. rather maddening, for one who wanted to try to get a better lay of the land, but still useful to know and keep in mind.

two seem to stay in place no matter what: Panorama at his back, and the scrapyard at hers. based on that information alone, he starts to get the sense that she might be newly adapting to their situation as “fluxdrifts” in this place. )

Only as much as any of us are “from” that city. ( two can play at that game with their answers (sorry, angel). ) Trying to decide if you’re going to head there yourself? ( a beat. ) There aren’t exactly many other options.

[exarched]

[ As much as he would hate to agree with Emet-Selch more than once on the same day, he finds himself doing so again. His own voice is low, the edges softened a bit by the sound of the rain. ]

Indeed.

[ What an awful turn of events this has become. ]

That it interferes so inconsistently with magic is enough reason to be concern.

[ Nevermind the existential horrors that were just hanging around in an office. That was fun.

When he turns to face Emet-Selch properly, he is a little surprised to see the man has bandaged himself up in a rather rudimentary fashion. For a man so prideful of the magic and ways of the past, G'raha assumed another quick snap of his fingers would be enough. But, no. Does that mean his healing magics are unavailable at this time or...? ]

...

[ He knows what he could do. But should he?

With a flick of some rain water off the tip of his ear, he waves his hand as a light blue glow trickles over Emet-Selch. Cool. Quick. Cure I isn't anything to be excited about. G'raha does not give it name, instead averting his gaze again.

Does that make up for it? Not entirely...

He swallows his pride. ]

Thank you.

[ The next words are strained, ]

I am...in your debt.

[ It sounds worse actually hearing it. ]

[terrorisms]

( There's an awful lot to factor into this equation now. Karen's a grown woman, a capable and competent adult, he knows that, he respects it, but there's no pretending like this place they're at is normal. This isn't surviving a particularly rough crime spree in Hell's Kitchen, this is a place with cosmic storms that bring on things beyond what humans are meant to see. This is a city where crime isn't just tolerated, it's expected. A place where the justice system has given up the charade, where law enforcers work for the wealthy or the business owners, where it's easy to go hungry and wind up on the street.

This is a place where a woman can scream in a motel hallway, and all people will do is make sure their doors are locked and thank god it isn't happening to them. Everything about this place is filthy.

Yeah, he might be glad to see her, but more than that, he hates that she's here. Adapting the strategy for how he approaches life here is inevitable. They're gonna have to sit down, they're gonna have to talk, they're gonna have to get on the same page. He needs to know how long she's been here, how she's doing, if she's secure, if she's got food, if she's got a plan.

And he needs to forcefully shove all of that out of his mind right now, immediately, thoroughly, to focus on the situation that's unfolding. So, for the moment, Karen's getting the soldier instead of the friend.

They hit the corner, he peers around it, then holds up a silent hand at her without glancing back. Wait, hold. Let him assess.

Two men. One securing the woman by locking her hands behind her head, his thick arms wound up under her shoulders, biceps swollen and taut, effortless even as she writhes and fights to get out of his grip. The second man's sporting a knife in one hand, the other palm slapped over her mouth to mute the feral, quavering noises trying and failing to escape her throat.

He can't put a bullet in that guy without it clearing straight through him and hitting her next — and besides that, he's trying to be conservative with his ammo. He hasn't found a place to resupply yet, and he doesn't have the funds to afford it even if he had one. If all they've got are knives, and it looks like that might be the case, then he should be able to handle this without expending a round.

It's a little too much to spell out for her in the brief seconds-long window of time they have, so instead, voice low, eyes locking on hers, he murmurs: )

Stay here, don't let anyone come up the hall, and only pull the trigger if they start headin' your way fast.

( Not that he intends to let them, but he doesn't pretend to be infallible. His effectiveness comes from being thorough and being over-prepared, not from being cocky.

With that plan thrown down on the table, he rounds the corner and starts stalking silently, gracefully, smoothly up the hall without saying a fucking word. No hey, assholes! Not a sound. Sometimes you need a sledgehammer, and sometimes you need a scalpel. Frank can be both, and this'll all go more smoothly if he can clear a significant bit of distance before either of them notice him coming in the dark. He makes it to about ten feet away before the bigger guy barks out a sharp, "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?"

And that's about when things get real. )

[oomfies]

[ Lottie's glare, by the time Maria does see her, has visibly lessened. Something about the whimsy and wonder in those eyes softens her (something something the magic of cinema). So by the time she is noticed, it's not because she's checking to see if she'll make noise. It's mostly so she can live vicariously through whatever the heck she's experiencing.

(She's a little past the target audience age for Spongebob, which means while this stuff is new to her eyes it isn't exactly entertaining. It's silent, for crying out loud!) ]

..Nothing.

[ And like the hypocrite she is, she chews on her popcorn a little too loudly. ]

Not a lot of people come to watch at this time.

adding on self-loathing and depression tbh I GUESS

[vestments]

( what if, she says, and though marc doesn't open his mouth to respond, the expectancy the almost of it is in the way his expression shifts — the lift of his eyebrows, the tilt of his chin — and then she continues.

marc's familiar with anger, with the way it courses through a body. the difference between cold, quiet anger and sudden heat, and he looks from her face to her arms, back to her jaw and, finally, snapping back to meet her eyes.

you could never know, and his eyebrows pull together tightly, the corners of his lips curving down. he turns to face her fully, aware of the dwindling crowd around them, aware of how it'd look for someone like him to take a step towards her. the city doesn't seem like the place that'd care in and of itself, except for pockets of people, of individuals, but even so.

if he'd been dressed in the suit, he'd busy his hands with his tie, with smoothing out his waistcoat, pulling at his shirt sleeves. physical distractions that give the illusion of nonchalance, but here, now, he has none of that. instead, he leans forward. it's only a touch, the slightest closing of personal space and, )

You don't know me, Wanda. ( where earlier, her accent had reasserted itself, made itself known, his — otherwise softened by travel, of constantly moving — emerges in rough, hard edges, even as his voice is careful and deliberate; low and level. not precisely calm, but it'd be difficult to pinpoint why not beyond the ever-present tension of marc. it could — might be — a warning, could just be a statement of facts, it's hard to tell.

marc spector's a man that's destroyed everything, a man that buried his father, killed his brother. lost his daughter, pushed away his friends. found a way to ruin every piece of happiness he'd ever ended up with, and as soon as he'd started to build something again—.

"and all I ever got was my miserable life back," he'd said to andrea.

she doesn't need to know that. hasn't earned it. ) Some of us don't get a choice, ( in living, he means. the rest of it — choosing to make something of the pain and the hurt, he still means that. ) Don't get to ask your question. There's no what if, only debt and duty and what has to be done.

( abruptly, he straightens, pulls at the hem of his t-shirt. it's almost idle. )

You got pain, you've got something. It's the emptiness you've got to watch out for.

[churnback]

It's like some kind of — magic? He doesn't have much in the way of a frame of reference for that, but that feels like the right word, the right conclusion to draw. It's interesting, how effortless it seems, like she really is just picking up a spoon to stir, except she doesn't need to at all. The way she can make it move like that, it's like nothing he's seen before.

His expressions don't often change much, at least when he doesn't know someone. (Even when he does, he's not the most expressive guy.) But there's a little softening, an openness to his features that wasn't there before.

"Daughter-Sea?" He raises an eyebrow, though, his head tilted slightly. "I'm Amos." It may not be her name, but it's her title, it seems like, so he'll offer up his name in return. "What else can you do?"

Panorama

[fuckinabucket]

🍒🥟👽The Pavilion: Free Samples👽🥟🍒

There must be a reason these are free

[ Sally spends a lot of time by herself, mm’kay? Thinking out-loud is a good way to fend off the impending isolation. It's not just crazy people to talk to themselves, it's unhinged intellectuals too. The small suspicious woman eyes the paper cups in her hands (synthetic cherry juice on the left, and steamed cabbage dumplings on the right) as well as the various other options being handed out by… good will volunteers, apparently? ]

… No, no way, no thank you. But here’s the trick I’d wager; ‘alien eggs’ sound repulsive so they’re probably the safest. The cabbage dumplings, that’s where they’d slip you the drugs.

[ Sally peers down at her own selections and huffs a sigh of partial defeat. She can’t be thirsty and hungry now, can she? But she really did turn herself off of the damn cabbage dumplings. ]

Here [Now she really is talking to you ] Take mine, please. I think I just lost my appetite. Bloody astonishing when you live through a 15 year festering famine.

🌑💥💉The Blocks: Power Outage💉💥🌑

[ The lights go off and well… it bloody figures. Honestly it's the first happenstance in this fresh new hell that she isn’t unreasonably suspicious of. People handing out things for free? Nay-nay. But, the power grid is all shit? Yes, yes, that checks out.

Sally doesn’t know shit about driving but she does know how to turn no cash into a lot of cash in a relatively small amount of time. The keystone to her plan is her brilliance at chemistry which allows her to brew some very universally useful and sought for items: medical supplies, and drugs.

But, oh joy of joys, she’s starting all over from scratch– but why the hell even bother without Gwen? What’s she even trying to accomplish here, other than outrunning the existential dread? Well, that last thing is pretty damn worthy, as though such a dread wouldn’t just eat her alive.

So she’s leaning into old bad habits to keep her busy as much as she’s hustling to replenish her chemistry supplies when she sets out in the dark, dressed head to toe in black, with her Pituitary Extractor in hand.

Catch her peeling the device off the face of an unconscious brute looking fellow who is now laying facedown in the mud. She doesn’t seem too upset in realizing you’ve caught her red handed. ]

Oh, don’t worry. The lad was trying to rob me. Bit off a little more than he could chew and I thought, for good karma’s sake, I really ought to make him regret it

camilla hect | the locked tomb

[go_loud]

[I'm going to post these under a toplevel so I can do some more tomorrow! Some Nona The Ninth spoilers (though more of the 'may be confusing if you haven't read it' than 'major plot point' variety) below. EMP here, hmu at wingedvoices for any plotting/questions!]