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goodmeme2023-10-06 06:18 pm
morrowmods) wrote in goodmeme2023-10-06 06:18 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME
test drive meme
Welcome to the opening test drive of goodmorrow! If you're just getting here, you can find our game premise here and our full navigation here.
It's a new game, but you don't have to play a newbie! This game has a mechanic that allows people to app characters who aren't new to the setting. Please check over on our application guidelines for more information about how it works. We've also got a summary of World Events that occurred prior to this TDM, so your oldbie can have some things to reference.
Thank you for playing! We're excited to have you.
goodmorrow! If you're just getting here, you can find our game premise here and our full navigation here.It's a new game, but you don't have to play a newbie! This game has a mechanic that allows people to app characters who aren't new to the setting. Please check over on our application guidelines for more information about how it works. We've also got a summary of World Events that occurred prior to this TDM, so your oldbie can have some things to reference.
Thank you for playing! We're excited to have you.
the summoning
Arrivals
There is always a buzz around the time of a summoning ritual. Will there be dozens? Or will this time only yield a handful? Will the stakes become dramatic enough for there to be a glimpse of one of the Old Ones, and the chance to partake in their incomprehensible greatness? The ones who believe consider it a day of hope and new beginnings. However, there are much more mundane concerns for the skeptics. Summoning means that there will be a whole new group of displaced folks who'll need to be oriented. They'll come hurting and confused, squirming with the bone-deep pain of travel and weary after hours of hearing about how they've been Chosen to herald the approach of the Old Ones. People will be here seeking help, and most of the native townsfolk only understand how to preach at newcomers. The new arrivals will likely need help from more experienced expats who better understand where they're coming from.
dessicated and unremarkable
Forbidden Knowledge
Even after the end of the summoning ritual, many kept their eyes watching the sky. There is always the risk of summoning more than just a new batch of novitiates. When pulling things from other worlds, chances are high that something else might tag along.
A few hours after the end of the introductory sermon, scraps of paper start to blow down from the sky. They travel on the breeze and seem to get into everything. They land on roofs and float through open windows. They get tangled in tree branches and end up underfoot on walking paths. Page after page delicately makes its way to the earth.
It must be wisdom from the cosmos! The rumor sweeps its way across town in hushed whispers. The gossips are saying that the elders want the pages collected, so that they can properly archive and study them. They promise a handsome reward to those who can gather enough to fill a tome, but that seems somehow less attractive, even as something to wish about. Whether deliberately hunting out the pages or accidentally encountering them in everyday life, it will soon be obvious that these are pages full of something best left unseen.
Some of the manuscript pages seem mundane enough. The words seem strangely familiar, as if they might be legible if one focuses on them hard enough. It's just a matter of figuring out handwriting or deciphering a dialect. It must be. A page might prove so engrossing that it leaves a person in an enthralled state, silently locked in a quest to understand something that looks so comprehensible only for it to veer off into the uncanny. This lock might leave them tremendously suggestible to any words spoken around them, their minds struggling and desperate enough to latch on to anything comprehensible at all.
Other pages seem less similar to human writing and will likely create less of a hold on those with the misfortune to view them. The pages covered in glyphs and arcane symbols feel almost empowering their foreignness, almost as if one might simply let the experience wash over them and let it run through them. Those unlucky enough to state too long at one of those pages might find themselves overwhelmed by instances of magical outbursts. It feels like a strange sort of sneeze as the arcane energy suddenly sparks a small thunderbolt into existence, or turns a bushel of hay into a solid block of iron. The effects are seemingly random, but wear off on their own in a few minutes. It's probably fine. What kind of damage could be done in such a short time?
This might be a relief to the illiterate members of the community, if it wasn't for the leathery pages. More parchment than paper in texture, these pages seem to carry something ominous in the rough fibers of their material. When touched without protective gloves, these pages force their handler to feel a glimpse of unspeakable suffering. It comes from a place beyond pain, lighting parts of the mind that were never intended for use. Screaming might be a way to express it, but more often it manifests in an expression of extreme emotion. Hysterical mania seems nice until it doesn't end and keeps a person up at night unable to stop laughing. Murderous rage might be inconvenient for the other members of the village. Whatever the emotion is, it's gone far beyond any normal limitation and will stay that way for the next several hours.
Enjoy the hunt, Revelbrooke. Try not to end up with too many papercuts.
A few hours after the end of the introductory sermon, scraps of paper start to blow down from the sky. They travel on the breeze and seem to get into everything. They land on roofs and float through open windows. They get tangled in tree branches and end up underfoot on walking paths. Page after page delicately makes its way to the earth.
It must be wisdom from the cosmos! The rumor sweeps its way across town in hushed whispers. The gossips are saying that the elders want the pages collected, so that they can properly archive and study them. They promise a handsome reward to those who can gather enough to fill a tome, but that seems somehow less attractive, even as something to wish about. Whether deliberately hunting out the pages or accidentally encountering them in everyday life, it will soon be obvious that these are pages full of something best left unseen.
Some of the manuscript pages seem mundane enough. The words seem strangely familiar, as if they might be legible if one focuses on them hard enough. It's just a matter of figuring out handwriting or deciphering a dialect. It must be. A page might prove so engrossing that it leaves a person in an enthralled state, silently locked in a quest to understand something that looks so comprehensible only for it to veer off into the uncanny. This lock might leave them tremendously suggestible to any words spoken around them, their minds struggling and desperate enough to latch on to anything comprehensible at all.
Other pages seem less similar to human writing and will likely create less of a hold on those with the misfortune to view them. The pages covered in glyphs and arcane symbols feel almost empowering their foreignness, almost as if one might simply let the experience wash over them and let it run through them. Those unlucky enough to state too long at one of those pages might find themselves overwhelmed by instances of magical outbursts. It feels like a strange sort of sneeze as the arcane energy suddenly sparks a small thunderbolt into existence, or turns a bushel of hay into a solid block of iron. The effects are seemingly random, but wear off on their own in a few minutes. It's probably fine. What kind of damage could be done in such a short time?
This might be a relief to the illiterate members of the community, if it wasn't for the leathery pages. More parchment than paper in texture, these pages seem to carry something ominous in the rough fibers of their material. When touched without protective gloves, these pages force their handler to feel a glimpse of unspeakable suffering. It comes from a place beyond pain, lighting parts of the mind that were never intended for use. Screaming might be a way to express it, but more often it manifests in an expression of extreme emotion. Hysterical mania seems nice until it doesn't end and keeps a person up at night unable to stop laughing. Murderous rage might be inconvenient for the other members of the village. Whatever the emotion is, it's gone far beyond any normal limitation and will stay that way for the next several hours.
Enjoy the hunt, Revelbrooke. Try not to end up with too many papercuts.
ooc notes
Thanks for checking out this setting! If you have questions, feel free to direct them to the first thread below.
no subject
His hand relaxes, as does his posture. ]
That's right, I....I need to act like the others. Do what's said, on the papers. Like the others.
[ He nods, convinced. ]
I don't need to think.
no subject
Right, right. You'll feel so much better to not think about it. Why don't you hurry along?
[ So she can. Not think about certain things further, herself. Right. ]
Oh, but before you do... turn around and bark.
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[ He turns in a circle, not thinking about any of this (or much of anything). When he's facing her again: ]
Woof.
[ And thus is a decades-long dream(?) of Archnemon's fulfilled....? ]
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Here he was, this unmistakable tie to another world, who had clearly gone further than she might have, unless her master had purposefully sent her here - but no, those were questions. This one she had before her was a questioner, and yet, because of this paper, still on strings. A toy.
Maybe, she could see how useful he could be if he put those questions anywhere but directed at her. Information, priorities, it was better if someone else was doing the work.
Or she could see what other ridiculous things she could get him to do to distract her with until the spell wore off, but that seemed... wasteful, when this was clearly a resource. With her free hand, she tugs her hood down lower. ]
Information is important, right? We need more pages, so you can find somewhere to get us food. And clothing.
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[ Ken turns and resumes his paper chase. He's no longer reading them as he grabs them, though. Instead, he seems intent primarily on collecting.
They need more pages. They need more pages. ]
More....
[ Now he is climbing a tree to retrieve a stuck page. Dignity, he never knew ye. ]
no subject
You missed that one.
[The one stuck there in the branch. It looks different from the other pages.]
1/2
I'll get it.
[ He ventures up towards the branch, stretches his arm up.....up.....Fingertips....grasping..... ]
no subject
And Ken, screaming like someone just lit his brain on fire - like a lost young boy who wandered into a vulnerable spot, ended up visiting the ocean - falls out of the tree. ]
no subject
[ And... down he goes. She has no webbing to extend. She could just watch him fall and walk away. No one would know.
Or that compulsion, the one that reminds her he was part of a mission- points out that there is a wheelbarrow nearby. There is hay in it. It probably will be scratchy. No time to think that through- it is shoved in his direction, though taking more strength than she was used to expending.]
Ngh - hey!
no subject
[ Ken lands in the wheelbarrow, scattering the papers he'd gathered - including the leathery one. Even after it's left his grip, he's left wide-eyed, panting for breath, trying to collect his thoughts in the aftermath of an experience so horrible and painful his brain isn't sure it can contain the immensity.
Out of old habit, a hand sneaks to the back of his neck. But nothing there....hurts....? ]
no subject
[It's a quiet, sharp comment that she's not even certain if it's directed inward or outward. Not that it matters. There are papers flying and she should want them gathered. Never mind that he has that look, one she had seen on a younger face, as though he had felt something beyond them. Should there be concern? She'd done far more than she should have already.
Ugh. He was making her think. She starts to reach for the papers instead. One, two, three, as long as she didn't directly grab that last one. ]
no subject
[ His neck....doesn't hurt? It's the only part of him that....doesn't....?
Wait, what happened---the last thing he remembers, he'd been reading something...and then....Archnemon....
He gasps. ]
You-!
[ Uh oh. Baby woke up. ]
no subject
If you're not going to do the work, we don't have anything to discuss.
no subject
[ They don't have anything....when....
The anger rises hotter than he'd expected, drowning his thoughts; he shoves it to the side, not denying it, but not giving it full sway. She hasn't changed. She hasn't changed one bit. She still took every opportunity she had to humiliate him, for no reason other than because she could....!
Strange, how encountering her returns this rawness to his feelings. How he can be made to feel like a yanked-around little kid, how his pride can bruise over things not worth the injury because she's the one bruising it. He's going to have to think about this, to accept that Archnemon in particular might be a sorer spot than he'd expected.
But for now, (shocker!) he's got to ask a question. After all, what happens to him the important part. ]
Bringing everyone here, to this world. Was this your doing?!
no subject
Ah, such obvious questions...
[ Of course he has them. And that's fine. Of course, playing along might be something of a suggestion too, but she's not about to complain. ]
no subject
...It wasn't, was it.
[ She's deflecting; she always deflects, and he's never been sure whether it was because she didn't have the answers, or because she simply didn't wish to give them, but it's the former, isn't it? It's always been the former. When he thinks about how she ended -
When he thinks about how she ended, it complicates the anger. Because he's had eight long years to think it through and realize she was just as much of a pawn as he. What difference is there between Archnemon's games and the Digimon Kaiser? When he thinks of it like that - when he thinks of it as a bluff - it's harder to be mad.
Yet not impossible. She dredges up too much for that. He changed. She didn't. (She never had the capability? Or just the chance? No way to be sure.) And no matter her motivations, if she means to cause harm again....!! ]
no subject
[ So quick to accuse and so quick to take away- definitely won't be as fun if he continues on like that. Not that she intends to prove him right or wrong, there's... something in this banter, the familiarity of it, that at least is a distraction. ]
no subject
[ Can these "Old Ones'" summons reach across time as well as space? He can't say yet, but he does know this: ]
You didn't recognize me.
no subject
[ And right back to testing her thin line of patience. ]
no subject
If he's trapped in this world alongside her, he'll have no choice but to persevere, will he. But still, he hates the stiffness he feels in his jaw. The way that, thanks to that hood, he still can't (never did, not in this form) see her eyes. ]
You would have known I was here...if you'd been the one to bring me. So if you were surprised, it wasn't you.
[ There. He got it out. He can't be a good investigator, one who keeps people safe and solves crimes, if he lets this level of harassment get to him! ]
Am I wrong?
no subject
He wasn't supposed to have an upper hand, and she had all but handed one to him for not looking closer than she should have at first. Because he had to be taller than he was. If she had recognized him, she would not have been taken off guard. Could have played it off better. Instead, he turns that moment of weakness - she grits her teeth slightly, but only for a moment. ]
I believe I summed this up when I said that it wasn't any of your business.
no subject
[ His heart is pounding. Did he just....did he just....did he do it? Did he just win an argument with Archnemon.....? Should that even matter, at this point....? Under these circumstances, with everything unfamiliar....?
But Ken's done fighting the fact he can be petty. He's not about to deny his emotions any more. So fine. It's not something to brag about, but it is what it is:
He's a little proud of himself right now. ]
no subject
Tch... just a little boy chasing after a prize. [ Ignoring the fact that he's taller. ] Fine then, have it your way.
no subject
In fact, the "victory", if such it is, now rings hollow. She's just as powerless as he is in this situation, and seeing her give in (if not without another little dig, which pricks him) drives that home. He'll have to watch that she brings out that smallness in him.
And stay focused. ]
If the Old Ones brought us both here, then our circumstances are the same. I don't think we'll be working together, but as long as you aren't trying to hurt anyone, I won't interfere with you, either.
[ It's the best he can offer. He braces himself to be mocked for it, but, just like eight years ago, talking to a girl who didn't realize how much her loneliness was being fed upon, a girl this woman had kidnapped - he still had to try. ]
no subject
[ There he went again with the 'superior' way of speaking. Offering a truce because while he had been seeking a battle there was not one to have, trying to establish rules in a world that had drawn them in for its own purposes. She tosses her head in her annoyance; he might briefly catch a glint of gold in her eyes before her hair and hood hide those distinctive features once more. ]
Such a proclamation from a former emperor.
[ Mocking it is, apparently, since she's had to give in. He's not her Boss, though, she doesn't really have anyone to answer to in that way, does she? No real orders or considerations for her time. The thought occurs to her but she does not like it. ]
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bless your choice of icon
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