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TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025
Test Drive ∞ May 2025
The First Collision
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.
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:
TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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:
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
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.
> 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.
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.
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.
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.
Main Navigation ::: ⇅
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(ง⪧‸⪦)ง
The helpful foggy face in the window has vanished, hopefully to follow through on their makeshift pantomimed instructions. (Hopefully she’s a lot more there than the rest of his current company. The possibility of there being one last trick being played here isn't lost on him. Sitting sour in the back of his mind where the worst-case-scenarios are playing out.)
He’s perched himself on the top of a salvaged crate, balanced on the top of a heavy desk. Far enough out of reach of the water that he might even stand a chance if whatever is powering that desktop decides to try and fry the place for the next few minutes. He flips quickly through the laminated folder that had provided the eventual exit code (he thinks.) Like maybe there’s something here to decipher that the quarantine is all about.
Whatever is causing these hallucinations, probably, but he doesn’t remember being dosed with something. Gas? Something in the water? He's heard what everyone says about the badlands here, but beyond a certain amount of jaded Gothamite I'll-believe-it-when-I-see-it...the message on the computer seems like a pretty big red flag.
So: he takes the time for a little mid-escape sitrep. Symptoms? Visual hallucinations, oh yeah. Loss of time, a bit. Kind of cold—sure, he’s long past drenched. Pulse elevated, no fucking kidding. His nerves feel like they're sitting at the top of his skin. All high alert. But it's kind of been a while since he had a good sense of equilibrium there.
Floodwater laps up against his perch. The pale face of a blonde woman with his eyes and burns on her skin bobs up in the corner of his vision. His stomach turns, fury boiling low under his breath, but he very pointedly ignores it. (They always slip away before he can get a lock on them. And everything that’s bumped into him in the churning water has been decisively non organic. He’s checked.)
He's concentrating so intently on this that he almost doesn’t hear it when the door unlocks. But it's hard to miss the sudden rush of water that follows, sweeping past and lapping over the surface of the desk that's serving as the ground he's sitting on. He grabs for the binder before it can get swept up in the current, and hops to a precarious crouch on his crate.
Okay. Progress. Way to go, window-girl. One point in favor of her being, y'know. Real.]
so it begins
It's not a lot of time, is the thing. And while the gravity of the situation will not break her, and she has no intentions of losing a man she has never met before in her life — her chest tightens with anxiety anyway. ( Perhaps it would have been easier if there was something to slay. ) It's sheer grit and determination that has her visualizing the symbols in her head, again and again, not quite clocking when she doesn't need to anymore ( it obscures the peripherals, like spots in her vision. Except it's a star with six points and an arrow with a strange fletching and —).
She tries not to think about the fact that she doesn't remember pressing the buttons. But they're glowing green when she blinks the next time. There's a dull but constant ache high on her arm, another at her knee. A sharper one at her cheek. She presses her finger tips against the center point, instinctively, and grimaces when it stings. She pulls her hand back and realizes that she can't see anything except the dull glow of the symbols. They look bigger. Her mouth tastes coppery.
There's a man trapped in a building.
The good news, if she could call it that — the doors are wide open by the time she stumbles back to the main street. She's pushing past the last of the rushing waters as she gets to the door, hand clutching the door handle as she peers inside ( her right hand originally, until tightening her grip against the metal hurts, and swaps to her left without a single thought ). If she remembers last—
She looks up by happenstance, and jumps. ] Oh. [ Hi, she's back. Bloodier than before, technically, if either of them could really see it — but she's back. ]
what could possibly go wrong
Well, fuck it. He drops the codes into the current and dives for the door—pulling her roughly out of the way of the last straggling bits of furniture being swept out int he flood. (Some kind of cabinet. Metal, sharp edges. Heavy enough that he didn't try using it to break the window back when busting out seemed like an option.)
Thankfully, getting out of the current works about the same even when it's haunted. (Move like you're esacping a riptide—just up and to the side enough to break out the other end.) As soon as they're clear of the building he swings her without-warning to press her back against the wall. Pins her there with an arm across her chest.
Not the friendliest of first impressions. But pressing up against the side of the building on the outside gives them a good amount of cover. Once it's out into the open, the water only really seems to have interest in moving, impossibly, up.
He should, probably, be trying to figure out what the hell happened to her out there. They're both drenched. She's dazed, bleeding. He's got her pinned in place, hand clamped bruisingly-tight against her bicep to keep her feet from getting swept out from under her. But the creeping darkness has taken second fiddle, for a second. Let him catch up.
Quiet, kind of breathless, but emphatically—]
What the fuck.
[What the fuck is going on with the sky. But also what the fuck is wrong with you, Lucina. He picks up steam as he reorients around their new circumstances. Hi.]
You do know you're supposed to run away from the deathtrap.
[Just saying. (What he probably means is thanks.]
absolutely nothing
But horrific choices in clothing aside, the rest of it happens too quickly for her to clock. It's the dots from the X on the list of symbols that obscure her vision this time, gigantic and all-encompassing in the brief moment it matters. She feels her body being lurched backwards without understanding how, tension in her body racketing up as she's whisked away. Her head knocks into the wall, and she grunts — her hand's on the hilt of the Falchion, but the elbow on her shoulder means she can't unsheathe it. ] What—
[ Lucina's brows furrow. The pain helps her head ( by having it pound, the back of it throbbing, which is something to focus on that's not the overwhelming sense of whatever all of this is ). Recognition dawns on her just before she starts trying to wrestle free from his grip. The man in the store, in that they're wearing similar clothes and have the same dark hair; she's not exactly swimming in comparison points, but it's enough. Her frame relaxes, some. She loosens the grip on her sword when being pressed against the wall feels less like a threat and — oh, there goes another file cabinet, the corner of it scraping the asphalt as it whisks itself away. It's not hard to put things together, fortunately. ]
I had to make sure you were alright. [ She didn't go and get herself bloodied and bruised for him to drown; she had to check it worked. Help him get out if she had been too late in freeing him. Something, anything, even if the end result ended up turning the tables a little. The tension in her jaw seems to indicate that said end result wouldn't have changed her decision.
Before he can yell at her some more though, she glances behind him. The water's still rushing upward, taking the debris along with it, but the entire street is harder to see. The spots in her vision have cleared, so it can't be that — it's literally darker. Shadowy, but not in any way that's natural. She pushes her shoulder against his hand. ] We need to move. Quickly. [ She's not above trying to throw him off if he won't let her, but she'll at least ask. ]
no subject
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?]
no subject
What? [ Is that disorientation or just her being herself — he sure doesn't know. Neither does she ( probably a bit of column A, a little bit of column B ). There's an impulse to raise her hand and point at the sky in an attempt to answer her question when her attention catches something in her peripheral. Her head whips to try and catch a sight of it, but it's gone. In its place—
She can't see the far side of the building, when she used to be able to before. It's been swallowed up by nothing in a way that definitely clocks as bad. She can work through fear, her sense of self-preservation has been established to be pretty atrocious, but something ( natural or artificial or otherwise ) is telling her she needs to get away.
So— ]
We need to move. [ Once more, with feeling. Now that she's got the freedom to move as she's like it's her turn to grasp his wrist, pushing herself off the wall and pulling him away from the door, the shadows, the hypothetical hole in the sky. He can keep being pissy at her heroic tendencies once they make it out of here alive. ]
no subject
But with his bearings back and her continued (growing) urgency, he catches up fast. Follow her alarmed jerk of the head and her wide eyes to—
Well. Nothing. A very particular kind of nothing. Black pitch void that's eating up the street around the corner of the building. Creeping closer, slowly, now that the water has drained out and risen up and up through the sky.
So much for going back for those meds—he'd kind of been considering it, but there's a time and a place, and this sure isn't the time. They're very rapidly running out of pavement, and he's not in a hurry to find out what happens if that spreading stain catches up to them.]
It's always something.
[Unreal. Well, when you're right, you're right. And she's right—time to book. She tugs him along, and this time he's quick to spin on his heel and move. He'd stashed his bike somewhere high and dry and hidden, so it's nowhere near enough to be useful for a quick getaway. So—
For the first time since he's had her pinned, he gets a proper look at her that isn't obscured by the window and the fog. Including that big fucking sword she'd been thinking of drawing on him a few seconds ago. Important question—]
If I do something are you going to try stabbing me with that thing?
[Hypothetical question. (He's going to do it anyway.)]
no subject
She really deals best with the tangible. It's infinitely easier when the threat is something that she can actively fight, or at least have a plan against; there's no plan against creeping, all-consuming shadows except to run. There's tension in her jaw that speaks to how frustrating that is — or maybe she's just trying to stay focused, using the sharp, coppery taste that's still lingering in her mouth to make sure they keep moving.
His voice cuts through the downpour ( up...pour? ). ] You—
[ Rude? She doesn't just go around stabbing people for no reason? He literally pinned her against the wall, thank you. But it's also not the time. She looks up at him — normally her eyes would just dart over, but the rain doesn't exactly make that easy, so there's a little turn of her head and a small tilt of her chin — to watch whatever she can make out of expression.
It doesn't really do much. Honestly, her mind was probably made up in the split second it took for her to reel herself in, she just would have appreciated knowing what it was. ] Not if it will help us leave faster. [ But you know. Easier to do than to say, etc. ]
no subject
They're not doing a great job of being on the same page here, so, y'know. It's a "brace yourself" as much as an actual question. He's already moving to do it by the time she answers. Already looking up and out at the horizon like he's searching for something. Absently—]
Great.
[Whip-quick, he hooks an arm around her waist. At the same time he reaches for something at his belt, unclipping a smallish device that had been hidden there and pointing it at the sky.
Or...not quite at the sky. There's a small report, a sound like zipping wire, and a feeling of sudden vertigo as they go from running full tilt on the ground to being pulled through the air. He'd aimed for the water tower on the top of a roof in the middle distance, which gives them plenty of room to drop down, once the grapple reels them close enough. Just hold on for a few seconds, bud.]
no subject
So while she may not have expected the joys of whatever-this-is, the sudden shift as her feet leave the ground and she's pulled upwards — that's familiar. Years of training and reflexes kicking in after the split-second hesitation it takes her for to put the two and two together ( though honestly, it's a bit of a stretch; way to talk about communication after pulling this, jerk ). Rough around the edges, but she's got the physicality to follow his lead, at least to start.
But the feeling of flying through the air is entirely different when it's just mechanical force pulling her forward. It'd be fine if she wasn't feeling the after effects of everything prior, disorientation and all. His fingers are digging into a part of her torso she hadn't even realized was aching, and —
It's only a few seconds, but she really only manages to land on her feet because Jason's made sure of it ( or he didn't, and she'll just tumble off the roof or something, it'd nbd ). Lucina stumble forward a little when he lets go, before she doubles over and her hands drop to her knees in an attempt to keep herself upright. Coughs when her breath catches in her throat, expelling whatever bit of blood was pooled in her mouth from earlier.
Not her most graceful moment, or the best introduction. ] Gods. [ She croaks out, eventually, before she gives up on the idea of standing entirely and drops to sit, where things feel steadier. Then— ] Is it following us? [ Because if she has to stand back up again, she will. But if she doesn't have to ... ]
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It's a shortish swing, and she seems to catch on fast enough to hang on. Braces herself against him and holds still so he doesn't have to compensate for her suddenly startling away or fighting him about it. Easy.
Once they've got boots on the ground, he releases her to stand on her own. He makes for the edge of the roof, leans over to look for the weirdness that had been pursing them. The seeping darkness is still visible in the distance...but it's moving slowly. At this rate, it'll take a minute to catch up.
He hums. Pushes away from the wall.]
Jury's out on if we've lost it. But we've got time.
[If she, y'know. Needs a minute to cough out all that blood. He gives her some space while she gets herself together—mostly because that's what he'd appreciate at that particular moment in time. With a stranger on your periperals and blood in your mouth and disorientation still fuzzing your reflexes. But. Now that they've got some space, he can do some appraising.]
Looks like I missed a party.
[She seems like a tough girl. So whatever worked her over must not have been messing around.]
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Still, the space is... appreciated, while she takes stock. The worst of the pain is on her leg, but it wasn't debilitating enough to keep her from moving — just something to watch for as she recovers. Then her torso, then her arm. The sting on her cheek is annoying, but ultimately harmless. She'll have to be careful with what she eats while the inside of her mouth heals. Physically, none of it is bad; so there's that.
The next inhale is deep. The smell of the rain is refreshing, distinct enough for it to be something she can focus on. That, and the little furrow of her brows and a distracted— ] A party? [ Please... I have to do this all over again... ] There wasn't anyone there. [ Except her, the box mounted on the wall with all the buttons, and a sense of foreboding that that juxtaposed how much she could actually see.
Though, speaking of. ] How long were you waiting? [ She's still trying to figure out what exactly happened herself. ]
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Long enough for you to get yourself worked over.
[There wasn't anyone there. He's not sure he believes that. But they're not here now. More helpfully—]
Less than ten minutes. Another ten and I'd be swimming with the fishes.
[So, y'know. Thanks.]
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(Un)fortunately(?) she's not responding to them anymore because she's got more important things to worry about ( sorry ). Her eyes, at least, are following his finger. Whatever was wrong isn't wrong anymore, but — ]
... I don't recall what happened. [ Quietly, almost for herself as much as it is for him. It's not exactly a comforting conclusion to come to, but — what else is she going to do but come to terms with it?
Lucina takes a moment to sit up, rubbing the side of her face ( and probably smearing the blood on her cheek in the process; hopefully the rain washes that away ). Her eyes drop to stare at the floor. ] I remember heading to the back of the building, entering each combination, and ... returning to where you were. It should not have been more than a few minutes.
[ Which naturally means she doesn't actually remember how she got hurt. The time she lost is the most obvious answer, but — well. There really wasn't anyone else there. ]
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She seems aware enough, so he lets it go. Drops his hands to lean them against his knees in his perch. Rocks back on his heels a little, thoughtfully. He doesn't like the implications in that any more than she does, but he's not in much of a position to answer it for her.]
Might have misjudged it.
[The time. But from the sound of it...he doesn't really think so. It's a pretty halfhearted comfort, and he discards the thought pretty quickly after feeling it out. Something happened to her out there, in those lost minutes of time. Creepy as hell.
He gives another little glance over his shoulder, like he's checking they've still outrun that strange darkness. Like he suspects the answer to their little mystery would be found within it, and he's weighing the pros and cons of how much he cares to go look for it. How much grief it would save them to write it off as a lost cause. How much worse it could have been.
He blows a vexed breath out through his teeth. But, eventually, he turns back toward her, instead. Taps at the side of his face, where the blood's smeared her cheek.]
You've got a little something.
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Somehow, she doesn't believe that — but she does appreciate the attempt. Not enough things add up for her version of the events to make sense. He seems much more alert than she had been, in that he doesn't seem to be haunted by the symbols he showed her.
She's not sure if any of that matters. If there's anything to be done once they do have an answer; which is an uncomfortable thought. She looks away when he does, trying to focus on the little section of the building she does recognize from here, but between the rain and the change in perspective it's... hard to say. It probably hasn't gotten any closer. ( She's not sure if she can trust her judgement on that, right now. )
Her eyes widen when he turns back. ] Oh. [ Instinctively, she's mirroring his movement — not that putting a wet hand on a wet cheek is going to mean much, but she makes a vague attempt at wiping it with her thumb. Who's to say she got it, she certainly can't tell. ]
Ah — my name is Lucina. [ She gives up on trying to wipe the blood entirely. It's fine. ] Thank you for getting us out.
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Jason.
[He rocks back on his heels one more time then stands. Offers her a hand to pull her up, like an afterthought.]
Don't thank me yet. Pretty sure there's still time for us to get swept up in the black lagoon out there.
[Besides, she did get the worse end of the stick. (Stopped to keep a stranger from drowning and get a handful of lost minutes and a bit of lost blood. Apparently. Don’t thank him.) ]
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