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

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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.

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Comments

2/2

[tirejacked]

[His teeth click together all of a sudden, and it’s like the violent slamming of a door. Cut off mid-thought, like he’s caught on too-late that he hadn’t meant to say any of that. He’s only human, after all. It’s not a hugely sensitive matter. He might have even shared (some vaguer version of the truth) with the class if John had asked him normally. Like a normal person.

(He’s only human. He does, however, possess the kind of indomitable will that makes a green lantern out of him in at least one far flung flavor of the multiverse. The pivotal practice with the kind of drilled-in mental defenses that Bruce had, (of course he had,) developed in case of this very kind of intrusion. Wouldn’t do if some random superpowered rogue could reach into his head and pick the Batman’s secrets out of the Boy Wonder, now would it.

And, well. When it comes right down to it, Jason’s just never been very good at being told what to do.)

He reacts visibly, and badly. Spine gone ramrod straight. Hands clenched tight into fists, phone forgotten. Expression ticking quickly over toward fury.

By the time John can clock it, he’s on his feet. He advances a step, reaches out whip-quick to grab John by the collar of his coat and haul him closer toward the edge of the building. (If not off the edge. …Yet.) Teeth bared.]

Oh, fuck you.

[Cute trick. He’s not sure what that was, exactly. But he can get the shape of it. He wasn’t born yesterday, y’know. ]

Y’wanna tell me why you think trying that crap was a good idea?

[eyesite]

( ooc: YESSSSSSS my favorite option )

( oh, sure, he could have just asked. you know, like a normal person. but if he had ever been that much of a normal person, he sure as hell isn’t one anymore—similarly, jonathan sims has never been known for his charisma either. when gallivanting around the globe, making his fumbling efforts to gather information and disrupt the other Powers’ rituals, there’d been enough instances in which the average person’s charity with him and his probing questions had run out (or not existed to begin with), and he’d had to… exert pressure. as time had gone on, his willingness to even give them a chance had dwindled, and at this point it barely even passes through his mind. he may have been in this strange plane of existence for a week or two, but he had spent God-knows-how-long roving through a hellscape of his own making as its own post-apocalyptic Antichrist (self-proclaimed, sarcastic). there, when he had wanted information, he took it. if something or someone presented themself as an obstacle, he removed it. after the grim severity with which he handled former enemies (and even former allies), cutting through the bullshit and compelling a simple answer doesn’t feel like too much of an overstep.

to say his perspective on the subject is warped would be a bit of an understatement.

the Archivist’s compulsion can be as understated as it is underhanded, tricking the mind into the same complacency it would answer any simple, non-privileged question with. this is the approach john had taken, phrasing the question as casual, even as he layered it with power. he is not surprised it works (as, to his eyes, jason seems to him like any archetype of the “punk kid”), though he seems more surprised by the answer itself. weapons dealer? he adjusts his mental measure of the young man. there’s enough confidence in his words to relay experience; he clearly knows what he’s talking about. though, really, john just finds himself relieved at how mundane the matter was. he’s already thinking of how to disengage and leave him to it—

that’s when his answer cuts off, and john can sense where this is going to go in the half-second afterward. he goes still, rigid; he’s cutting through the mental calculations to judge whether or not he might be able to back off faster than the young man could come after him, but qualities like “speed” and “strength” had never been his forte. he’s scarcely backed up half a step before jason is on his feet and closing the distance fast, and his second step back does little more than throw him off-balance when he’s grabbed by the collar and physically dragged over toward the roof’s edge.

that’s when he starts to get afraid. but it’s a very strange kind of fear, mostly because he never seems to lose the sense of lofty, unattached certainty he had had when compelling jason a moment ago. the dichotomy is bizarre. his breathing comes quick and shallow as he senses the yawning abyss of nothing open up behind his back; suddenly he is sat before michael crew again, trapped in a mental plummet at terminal velocity, and the inscribed fears of no fewer than three or four victims of the Vast resonate with that sensation in atonal symphony. without thinking, his hand flies to lock around the offending wrist in a dead man’s grip. he can fear the threatened fall (and he does; it’s evident enough in the anxiousness of his breathing and the occasional, sudden shudder of adrenaline), but he can also feel a calm resolve that it’s doubtful it would even kill him. that’s what does battle in his expression and in the dark intensity of his gaze, playing at such odds with the instinctual response of trauma.

his first response is a single, mirthless laugh. ) Well, I can’t say I’m known for my good ideas.

( he keeps a knife on him in his coat. he doesn’t want to use it. he’s not even really sure if he can—he’d used it to kill the man most deserving of it (and then martin had used it on the second most deserving), so using it against anyone else felt… wrong. even worse than reacting with violence seemed in this situation.

so just trying to pull something even more painful out of him was also out of the question. violence against the sanctity of the mind was just as terrible as violence against the body. sometimes more so.

he’s never been a particularly adept liar either, so… what, his last resort is probably just the honesty he had avoided using at the jump? oh, irony. )

Because I wasn’t about to ignore someone staking out the rooftop of the place I’m staying without knowing why he’s there.

( a little entitled. and also not very enlightening, given that much is obvious (except for perhaps the fact that john had already known he was up here?). after a moment of deliberation, he continues, and when he does, his tone of voice has softened. he’s filed away the more imperious edge to reveal something more heartfelt beneath. ) Someone is staying with me that I need to make sure remains safe. I—I had to. ( a beat, and, after searching jason’s face with dark, bottomless eyes, he continues on intuition rather than the certainty of Knowing: ) Surely you could understand something like that.

( the pressure of Knowing is far lesser here, in this place, around these people. the Eye had only amassed the knowledge it had over his world because it had existed just outside it for as long as there were animals conscious enough to feel fear. these new universes, though, and these new people… it knew remarkably little, and so did john. they both hungered to change that. just give them time. )

[tirejacked]

[Oh so now violating the sanctity of the mind is off limits. Too little, too late.

The initial imperious edge doesn't do a lot to unruffle Jason's feathers. Before John is through talking it out, he's swung from hovering near the side of the roof to tipping back over the edge of it, the toes of his shoes barely scraping at the ledge in unsubtle threat. One place their expertise overlaps—fear has always been a well-used part of the vigilante toolset. Imperfect, impermanent, but useful. There's a reason Bruce swoops around the city in bat ears, creates mythologies around himself in dark places.

Any attempt at finding common ground over it seems to fall on deaf ears. His expression has shuttered, eyes flinty, voice gone dangerously even.]

Lets say I don't.

[Whether it's actually true or not is kind of beside the point, at the moment. "Had to" is doing a lot of operative work, here. It's not lost on him that John had jumped right to the magic tricks. That he'd come up here ready to assume (or came up here knowing) that anyone unlucky enough to have ducked out for a smoke break was a fair target for fucking with. He's pissed off, he's been screwed around with enough to have a chip on his shoulder about it. So he's pushing. Lets see how far it gets him.]

Try again.

[Give him a reason to give a crap, bud, his arms might start getting tired.]

[eyesite]

( yes, of course. it’s because he regrets it! but, then again, he mostly regrets it because it’s directly led to him half-way dangling off the roof of a building. there is almost certainly the tattered remains of his human decency, buried deep beneath multiple layers of increasingly eldritch sediment, that also feels bad for impinging so brazenly upon a stranger’s will and agency, but, well… the magnetic pull of that moral compass is harder to read or discern when the other impulses and desires welded over time into his being have gradually become a much stronger lodestone.

john himself has never been particularly adept at inflicting fear (not naturally or intentionally, anyway). by the nature of his role he was intended to see it or feel it. the ever-expanding document upon which it was inscribed and documented, the focusing instrument through which the fear was transmitted to the Eye to feast… really, jason is far more adept (enough so that Hunters would likely be keen to add him to their ranks). his vertigo lurches further as the promise of a fall is pushed brusquely to the precipitation of one; mid-speech, he stammers and completely stops one of his points as this occurs, squeezing his eyes shut and lapsing into rapid, panicked bursts of breath as terror threatens to overwhelm him. he might not Know much about the young man threatening him, but he finds himself developing an upsettingly accurate picture of exactly how high up he is, how long the fall would take, and how many of his bones were likely to break upon impact.

he does manage to finish his point—for all the good it does him. when he forces his eyes open again, there’s a spark of indignant frustration flashing in their bottomless depths. )

I’m telling you the truth, you—

( he cuts himself off, taking a deep, tremulous breath. if reasoning isn’t a route that’s going anywhere, he needs to find another one.

his first, very unfortunate instinct is one rooted in anger. it’s that same impetuous and imperious side of him that’s already turned this encounter south so quickly: it wants to lash back, to reach into the darkest recesses of jason’s mind to find whatever he could use to subdue him, to overwhelm him, to confound him. threats, promises, blackmail… the endless hunger for secrets that could be held as cards close to the chest, to use at the worst and most painful of moments—

fortunately, john at least knows by this point how poorly choosing that path would go.

which leaves: )

Fine. Fine. ( one more shuddering, steadying breath. ) An offer, then. You know now first-hand what I can do. What was it you said about—what were they, weapons dealers? ( it had been such a mundane, worldly threat that it’d almost immediately rolled out of his mind. the fear and panic helped, of course, ) Whatever you need to know, I can get it it for you. As a gesture of good faith. And… an apology.

( a brief pause before he adds, ) If it happens again, you can throw me off whichever bloody rooftop you want.

[tirejacked]

[Easy to regret using your spooky superpowers when you're being dangled off a roof, it's true. Don't worry, bud, he doesn't need (definitely doesn't want) your permission to chuck you off the edge if he feels the need.

There's no sign, really, that he's getting tired of letting John hang over the edge of the roof. But if he wanted to drop him, he'd drop him. So...he's listening.

He cants his head, maintains the underlying threat, the low burn of anger still clearly there in the set of his shoulders.

Good faith. Pull the other one, champ. But, well, he's not exactly swimming in sources, right now. So sure. Maybe he can work with that. A little more productive than letting him paint the pavement.

Still—]

Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do? Waltz on down there and ask nicely where they keep their goods? Write me a memo?

[Less outright skepticism in it than a sense of feeling him out. He's seen firsthand what John can do—from one particular perspective. He believes slightly less in the plausibility of him just walking off and coming on back with anything of use. (Didn't take on him for very long, and if they know they're compromised nothing John can tell him will be any good to him for long.)]

[eyesite]

( yes, that nauseating threat of looming vertigo hasn’t actualized into the horrible feeling of free-fall. not yet. truthfully, it’s only made that more convincing considering how closely-arranged the constellation of related statements had been, held together with the mark of the Vast at their center. michael crew and simon fairchild had been both prolific and consistent, in that way. most would fear the likely death that awaited them on the ground—from personal experience, john feared the fall. terminal velocity is a very unique, frenzying panic, and one he’d do almost anything to avoid a second time.

it does seem as though he’s grabbed onto a thread that might actually lead somewhere, though. it’s not that his assailant is without a tongue-in-cheek come-back for what he’d offered, but there is a distinct pause—one filled only with heavy silence and the electric tension of the moment—before it’s committed to words. “hope” isn’t really a feeling that john finds himself feeling anymore; he has to imagine, after everything that’s happened in the last few years, that the interiority of his soul is far too inhospitable for something like that to take root and sprout. he has, however, honed his sense of opportunism; making a deal with the devil has saved him more than once from far nastier monsters than he is.

the constructive problem-solving that jason presents him with is a bit of a high bar for him to meet at the moment, however. there is, of course, the fact that john’s abilities as an investigator are… inconsistent at best and middling at worst. the abilities given to him by the Eye are very helpful for it, yes, but it had become painfully obvious in retrospect how often he’d been helped along on the various missions he’d taken on to look into and deal with. he just didn’t have the experience, and especially not with mundane criminals.

all that and being half in a panic due to being dangled off a roof aren’t exactly helping him formulate the best plan of action in the moment.

worked well enough on you, is the grumbling reply he’d make if not under the threat of gruesome injury. he’s self-editing. ) Well, yes, once I’d figured out where I could find one of them. And I-I’d—probably call you, ( what does he think this is, the nineteenth century? )

How about you let me go on solid ground, ( heading off any jokes or wild antics about letting him go as he is now, ) and we can talk about it.

( it would likely require them to work together, which he already knows will be a bitter pill to swallow. he supposes it depends on jason’s own willingness to make deals with devils. )

[tirejacked]

[Bold of you to think he's jumping to give supernaturally invasive randos his number, John!!!  He does have another number for just this kind of illicit bullshit, but he mostly didn't plan on attaching his face to it.  So. Decisions.  (Could always get a third sim card, at this rate.)

Just as well John bites his tongue.  Worked well enough on him until it didn't.  And sure, he's aware there might be some differing levels of reason for that.  But it's not enough for him to bank on success.  And while it's really no skin off his nose if John gets himself killed trying to square them up, (or, really, if he fucks off and doesn't pony up on his end of the bargain at all.) But he'd rather get a return on his investment in this little enterprise.  You understand.

So...he'll play nice, relatively. He very obligingly hauls John back over to solid ground, if not by much.  Lets his feet hit pavement. Even gives him his collar back, spreading his (empty) hands in front of him in an exaggerated gesture of goodwill.  But he keeps himself squarely between John and escape.]

Y'wanna talk?  Go ahead.

[Talk.]

[eyesite]

( well, jason, if you’re not going to meet him half-way, they perhaps at least make an attempt to meet him a quarter of the way, then? despite being the avatar of a dark, eldritch god, john is not a miracle worker (regardless of whether that miracle was positive or negative)! and give him at least a little credit. if you’ve threatened him with a lethal fall once, he’s probably not going to push his luck and abuse the modicum of trust issued when giving one a way to contact you.

probably.

the half-frenzied grip of terror eases almost immediately once he’s back on his feet on solid ground again. sure, the young man standing tall, angry, and imposing between himself and the exit to the roof is not ideal, but it’s a hell of a lot more ideal than reliving the sickening, weightless vertigo of freefall and contemplating just how long it will take all of his bones and internal organs to repair themselves from the damage of a several-stories high fall (and not to mention how on earth he’s going to attempt to explain it all to martin). he clears his throat, fixes his collar, and brushes off the front of his coat. then he looks up to jason. )

I would first recommend you tell me anything and everything you’ve managed to learn about these people that you’re after. You’re clearly no amateur, so you must have something—names, locations, behaviors, anything can be useful in leading me to them, even if you personally don’t think it might.

( that’s just how Knowing tended to work. if he gathered up enough pieces of the puzzle, the ones that he’s missing tended to fall into place. sometimes. hopefully. )

All I need is to be able to speak to a member of this group. Then, I can make them tell me whatever you’d like to know from them—same as, ah. As what I did to you just a moment ago. ( the minute spasm of conflict across his expression is likely a representation of regret, surely. ) …That, and I’ll see if I can pull something incriminating enough out of them that leveraging it as blackmail will keep them from causing any further issues.

( it’s worked in the past. he’d hope it would work again, because he’s not particularly adept at violent solutions to loose ends. )

Then all that’s left is me to call you to tell you what I’d learned, and then we’ll be done with it. ( a brief pause, followed by a short sigh. ) Unless you’d like me to leave you a note.