goodmeme | TEST DRIVE MEME

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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.

arrivals | forbidden knowledge | ooc notes

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.

ooc notes

Thanks for checking out this setting! If you have questions, feel free to direct them to the first thread below.

game navigation

Threaded | Flat

Questions about the way something works? Have a wild idea that you want to run by a mod first? Sampling a new game and don't want to bother with the FAQ? This is the place to ask.

[A. Arrival]

[Some unfortunate soul had the great idea to tell her you can't leave here. That summonings are final. Although there's no weapon in her hands, that doesn't stop her from glaring them down for a good old Githyanki interrogation. Or is it you she's interrogating?]

I will not ask again. Tell me how to leave this place or I will cut your neck and leave you to bleed on the very steps of your hallowed ground.

[B. Forbidden Knowledge]

[Yes, she noticed the parchment falling from the sky. Yes, she noticed people acting strangely and obsessing over these pages. No, she doesn't understand any of it and she's done well ignoring it so far, until...]

[There's a sharp cry of pain as she looks down to see her foot has stepped on one such page.]

Tsk'va! I will tolerate this hysteria no longer.

[If you could roll for initiative against a parchment, she would. For now, she just looks for something flammable to set it alight. She looks pissed.]

:ARRIVAL 'a wild portal appears':

[ For any wizard, there was always the erroneous chance that they would find a portal and step inside-- it was a call of sorts, how could one resist the very idea of stepping into something unknown. Pandora's box, except instead of hoping stepping out.. hope merely stepped in, to disappear into the aether.

Except Gale, as he confusedly emerged from the mawing purple void, did not precisely remember stepping inside a portal. The last thing he recalled was a blur, something with a book and a glowing boot which he pressed to a chest that was hurting. He winced as the tattoo glowed just above the neck and then he found his knees hitting grass and dirt. ]

Ah, an audience I see-- how peculiar, however at this conjecture, I am not precisely sure that I remember an audience? Well Volo had been lurking around but I do not remember seeing him..

[ He was not sure, in fact, of what he was going to say except that a cool breeze touched his body and he realized he was.. nearly naked. He dragged himself up to something akin to his full height while he sought to cover himself. Desperately, he attempted to search for familiar faces within the torchlight wielding crowd of villagers. ]

Can anyone tell me where I have landed? [ Thankfully no one attempted to high five him this time on his way out the portal. That was something, right? ]

:ARCANE KNOWLEDGE 'it's like wizard foreplay':

[ The page fell down and like magnetism it floated into his hands, cradled within his own open palm. The words glowed and he was for a moment caught in the lure of the written word. Certainly, it was why he had pursued the wizard lifestyle-- because he was enamored with knowledge, books and the sweet tang of a spell flowing within the Weave.

His eyes caught and held parchment, and then he was moving it over the grace and beauty of words, how they hummed with energy.

Dark magic crackled from his fingertips, a voidal flare as the ichor flowing through his veins caught like ink and melded with it to create a spell, but not one of his own repertoire (he had not the wherewithal to cast which had been frustrating) but here as he spoke the words, a void started to spread underneath his feet; gravity that made his booted feet feel heavy, attempted to suck him down.

He blinked and then fell backwards, flat onto his arse while he watched the eddying whirlpool grab a milk bucket and hungrily pulled it to it's dark violent depths as it evidenced; but still his fingers clutched parchment and he was attempting to push himself further back on the ground. ]

This is not the normal type of magic that I have encountered. This book is it's own entity, cleaving to my mind-- though I did not speak any words whatsoever. [ There were other pages and they fell downward in a whirling waltz, disturbing if they all contained that same mote of power as a single page did. ]

We must be careful, perhaps we should attempt to collect them? Reform them back into a tome?

WILD CARD

Hello, this is Nia aka alwaysbeenasmiler with yet another socially inept magic user because I have a BRAND(tm)! Feel free to hit me up with plotting either in DM or over on plurk and please be kind to my adopted baby boy because everyone is mean to him, including that Lae'zel.

Paper Airplane texting is also welcome! (I love texting threads; fast and fun for those low spoons nights)

Edited 2023-10-07 02:55 (UTC)

[ 1. Arrival ]

This is starting to feel a bit like a pattern...

[Astarion's tone is somewhere between a put upon sigh and a longsuffering huff. His hair, a pure white that seems to lay about his head somewhere between chaos and carefully styled waves, and his complexion are exceptionally pale. Pointed ears mark him as an elf, for anyone who would have enough knowledge about the subject.

It's his posture that marks him as vaguely annoyed.] The robes are new though. And not appreciated. Dreadful. Genuinely awful.

[So he's quick to start trying to ask for help, all charm and smiles -- though quite careful not to smile too broadly, lest he show wickedly pointed teeth.] Excuse me, I was hoping you might be able to help me... more than the, ugh, proselytizing prattlers that seem to be everywhere.

[ 2. Forbidden Knowledge ]

[There's buzz about all the paper litter, and as Astarion glances around, he's not sure he's all that impressed. At best it looks like the sort of thing a wizard or some historian might be interested in.

But they are hard to miss, so he eventually lets some spark of curiosity get the better of him. The markings on the page are strained and he wrinkles his nose at it. Like he guessed, nothing worth his time, something better left to those who were better with thinking than action.

Still it is hard to simply let it go.

The first explosion is off to his left, a tree that is very suddenly speared by lightning that doesn't seem to hvae come from a cloud.]

That wasn't me!

[The second goes off to his right. A sheep that is suddenly roast mutton.]

That... might have been. [A sigh.] Waste of a good snack.

[ 3. Wildcard ]

(( Something else in mind? Hit me up in PM or at

seasided. Someone please bully this terrible vampire. He deserves. ))

[ arrival ]

[ Vex'ahlia isn't that thrilled, to say the least. She is missing one beloved bear son, one beloved brother, and five beloved friends. She's quite sure that Keyleth's Transport via Plants doesn't work like that, despite her limited knowledge in nature magics, and her magics always had a faint greenish glow, not whatever she was seeing here. ]

Right, so. [ Hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised, hip to one side. ] I'd love to know who's decided to tell me what to do, because I have bad news for you, darling.

[ forbidden knowledge ]

[ Vex grabs the first page to fall beside her, looking at what was written on it. She was always a curious creature, and therefore tried to decipher what she was looking at. She knew several different languages, but this looked nothing like she had ever seen. Maybe it was arcane in nature? The glyphs looked a little what Scanlan would do with his spells, or even Allura when she was around.

She sighed, trying to decipher it a bit more, but ended up tossing the page to the ground. Right next to it, the ground seemed to erupt into flame, threatening to get too close. She tried to stomp it out with her boots, but ended up causing another to erupt. ]

Well, shit.

[ wildcard ]

[ Feel free to PM this journal or at

earthkingdom if you have anything in mind! She's quite nice once you get to know her. ]

Arrival

The man who stands on the arrival platform is not much to look at. A dirty, ragged looking soul in a tattered coat, dirty shirt, pants and worn scarf. Hie face is marked with filth and his hair is just hanging loose. But his bright blue eyes are taking everything in and marking the people around him as if assessing potential threats.

This is a clever man willing to adapt to any situation, he manages a small smile as he starts to climb down and look for a friendly face. "Hullo," he calls trying to sound friendly even though his body language is screaming "please don't hurt me."

"Can anyone help me?"

Forbidden Knowledge aka Wizards doing dumb Wizard Stuff

The pages instantly catch Caleb's attention and he reaches up without thinking to capture one. Studying the page he begins to recognize symbols he may have seen before in his own spell-book. He begins to mutter them to see if he can unlock the page's secrets. However, he hasn't yet realized that this might not be the same type of magic he is used to wielding and that that could be dangerous.

As he reads he begins to realize the familiar feeling of magical build up beginning to overwhelm him. When he looks at his coat sleeves he can see fire starting to climb up his arms. He begins to tremble and tries to drop the page...but it is too late the fire is starting to consume him and all he can do is pray and hope no one around him gets hurt.

Arrival

The newest arrival hits the platform with a hard thump and a muttered curse. Standing there is a handsome young man with ruffled dark hair, sharp blue eyes and an facial expression that screams "DO NOT FUCK WITH ME." His clothing is a study in contrasts, the boots, suspenders and coat are filthy, while the shirt and pants are clearly newly replaced and clean.

He takes a defensive stance and looks around ready for a fight. This is a man primed for war and until someone reaches out he will punch first and ask questions later. "What the hell is going on," he asks his accent sounding almost American but not quite.

Forbidden Knowledge

Sean normally leaves the smart figuring shit out stuff to LT and Jean, so when the pages start falling from the sky he eyes them but doesn't grab for one. He's the fighter, the guy who shoots where he's told to shoot at and blocks the smarter people from getting hit.

But then one of the leathery looking pages falls at his feet and it's like he's drawn to picking it up and looking at it. He feels himself sink into a memory, young faces staring at him in terror as he, equally as young points a gun at them and pulls the trigger. He feels the rage start to overwhelm him as in the memory he pulls the trigger again and again and again.

The villagers will see Sean drop the page he'd been holding and turn to the house he'd been standing next to slamming his fight over and over again into the nearest wall of it. He doesn't seem to care about the blood running down his knuckles. He's too lost in the memory to care what he's doing to himself as he is consumed with rage built up over years.

i. arrival;

( Oh no. This is definitely not the Feywild, nor does it seem to be any part of Tal'Dorei she's familiar with. She had been in such a rush to get the hell to safety that she cast the first spell that came to mind, and it brought her...here? Wherever here is.

The locals seem alright, at least, but then again, Keyleth has always been far too trusting. The half-elf looks a little too excited to explore her new surroundings, so much so that she doesn't notice that she is not the only one around. In her excitement, she collides right with someone and...trips. It's not the best first impression, but such is the norm for one (1) red-headed druid. ) I'm so sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. Are you okay? That was...totally my fault. ( She laughs nervously, folding an arm behind her head as she backs up slowly just in case. )

ii. forbidden knowledge;

( It reminds her of snow falling in Whitestone. This, of course, brings up complicated feelings of home and feeling like she has failed her people by being unable to complete her Aramente. First her mother, now this...

She steels herself. There is no giving up, not for her. Could she garner something from these texts that are raining from the sky? She hadn't planned to touch them, let alone read them, but desperate times call for stupidly desperate measures. Besides, just wandering around waiting for the rest of Vox Machina to show up or for her magic to start working again hasn't been helping at all.

Once she's gathered a few pages, she starts shuffling them around. There isn't any rhyme or reason to them, nor any cohesive narrative. They seem strange and beyond her comprehension. It's no dialect she is immediately familiar with, but maybe...maybe it's written in code! It's worth a try as she starts scanning for any patterns but doesn't seem closer to figuring out the more profound meaning.

Until something shifts. It's a strange feeling, though Keyleth isn't even aware that something has happened. To anyone else nearby, it might appear as if the half-elf has entered a trance, her mouth falling open as if absorbing so much knowledge her mind cannot contain it all. )

iii. wildcard;

( If neither of these prompts spark joy, please feel free to send something else my way! Please reach out to me by PM or metalheads to plot specifics. )

Arrival.

Do you want the short version, or the long version of the speech?

[ Shadowheart doesn't look like any of other arrivals and that's because she's not. Her robes are a little nicer, for one, and she's wearing clothes underneath them and shoes. She doesn't look disheveled, and some people call her Sister instead of novitiate which suits her just fine.

Shadowheart has been here for three years. Three years of toiling in the cold. Three years of wondering if she'd ever see Faerun again. For the first two, she'd railed against their cult and screamed curses at them and prayed to her Lady to guide her. And then, when it became obvious that Shar would never take her home and, indeed, that Shar was not even listening, Shadowheart finally decided that it was futile.

The terms were laughably simple--ironic, really--when they'd offered. A few memories for power. Whether she was hoping that in this trade she'd feel Shar's grace again and be able to channel Her divinity or if she really had bought into these Old Ones it was hard to say. But after a year of pretending, she'd become pretty committed to the cause. Indeed, Sister Shadowheart tended to livestock as well as her neighbors and was a frequent participant in the community garden.

But her trade off had been for almost nothing.

Still, if nothing else she's standing here now, watching initiates come out naked and confused and in pain. Something in her heart stirs as it always does, as if her healing magics might be just a word away. But they aren't, of course. And all she can do is offer what little information she has. ]

Welcome to the village.

Forbidden Knowledge.

[ Shadowheart puts herself to the letter of the task--collect the pages, don't read them, turn them in. She knows nothing good will come of disobeying and nothing good will come of magic that falls from the sky in this place.

But...if they want a full tome, doesn't she have to look a little? Make sure she's collecting the same ones from the same book?

And, says some part of her that's been frozen away for three years, don't you want to know? Isn't there knowledge in power? Isn't that what She--

Shadowheart stifles that thought and instead, when she sees someone trying to read a page calls over: ]

Hey! You're just wasting time.

Arrivals

[It's been quite some time since Ivy arrived here. Revelbrooke has grown since then, adding space and luxuries for their growing population of guests—but the new arrivals continue apace. She doesn't participate in the summoning. Why should she? It's the locals job to bring them here and to welcome them.

It's their joy to act as the messengers for the Old Ones. To prepare the world for Their power.

Perhaps to act as receptacle for that power themselves? Who better than Ivy to serve the gods—or to be one?

She comes not to participate, but to see who they bring this time, and what other signals there might before the Old Ones themselves finally reveal themselves.]

Forbidden Knowledge

[Ivy waves a hand and the trees around her raise their branches, grasping at the sheets of paper with dozens of twiggy hands. They capture several, offering them to Ivy to inspect.

She snatches the nearest impatiently.]

What the hell is this?

[Her brows draw together as she scans the page, trying to make sense of the writing. She doesn't recognize the language at a glance, but it feels like she might. Like tickles something in the back of her mind and if she just tries a little longer, maybe it will come together...]

Wildcard

[Or something else in the game setting!]

arrival;

( when steve comes to in the cathedral, at first it's all he can do to sit quietly, dumbstruck. he understands the words these people are saying but they don't make sense, at least not without context. phrases like “old ones'' rattle around in his skull as he struggles to understand how he went from a school-cafeteria-turned-emergency-shelter to… wherever the hell this is.

it's only when they start talking about the future and how perhaps his children can help one day, as he's a new permanent fixture to the community after all, that he finally snaps out of his confusion and bolts to his feet. )

Nope! ( he says, loudly and without concern for how rude he might come across. ) That's – yeah, no. Sorry. Just… no.

( he turns on his heels and marches outside. he’s not really expecting to be greeted by the streets of hawkins, indiana considering something extremely weird is going on here, but he’s still disappointed to see the outside world looks just as strange and foreign as the inside of the cathedral he’d woken up in. he just stands there for a moment, taking it all in, and whether there’s a random passerby loitering outside or someone followed him out from inside, he addresses them — )

This is some kind of reenactment, right? ( he makes a vague gesture with one hand towards their surroundings ) Like it’s some weirdo acting thing. It has to be.

( he just has no explanation as to why or how he wound up here, is the thing. )

forbidden knowledge;

( when paper starts raining from the sky, steve looks so irritated by it you might guess he alone would be responsible for cleaning it all up. at first he tries to ignore them, but when one smacks him right in the face, he's forced to acknowledge the thing exists.

the words are... eng...lish...? he thinks. maybe. the more he squints at the page in his hand the more he begins to doubt himself. whatever. he stuffs it in his pocket and reaches for a second page, but as soon as his fingers graze this strange, leathery sheet it sends a shock of pain up his arm so severe that he recoils immediately with a startled yelp and staggers back a few steps. his ass hits the ground hard as he loses his balance, but not before he spots someone else going for the same paper he'd just touched.)

Hey— ! Heyheyhey! Don't touch that! ( he shouts loudly, regardless of how close this person may be to him. ) Seriously! Something's wrong with it.

wildcard;

( you wanna do something else? i'm open to just about anything! also i'll match prose if you'd prefer. )

the summoning.

[ once upon a time, there was a boy who daydreamed of being spirited away to another world. dreams of waking up one day in the middle of one of his campaigns, no longer the dungeon master but the chosen one sent to save the day. brandishing a steel sword and wielding it with the poise and confidence of a knight by day, and introducing metal to a world that only ever knew bards by knight.

then chrissy cunningham slammed into his ceiling, bent and broken in ways no human body should bend. eddie munson didn't much care for magic anymore after that. all those dreams of heroics died with the horrible thump of her body hitting the ground, the cold reality that a world filled with magic lacked grim, glory, and loot. it was just his own, but worse.

and this... this is worse. much, much worse.

eddie's not loving the preaching. granted, he's not loving much of anything right now. teeth clenched tight and body coiled tight like a spring, ready to run. there's a bottle in the long sleeve of his robe and his hand is strangling the neck, ready to break it and fight for his life at a moment's notice. anyone who looks too comfortable here is given a wide berth as his mind races and he tries to identify potential friend or foe.

or if any of this is even real. ]

Hey, hey, uh - [ if you look sufficiently out of place, regardless of how else you look, you may find yourself being approached ] are you, uh, [ eddie stumbles, losing whatever composure he had. he rakes his fingers through his curls and grits his teeth, looking a little desperate. ] shit man, I, uh...

[ something bongs in the distance and he nearly jumps out of his skin. ]

Are you, uh, real? Is this [ his voice pitches up slightly ] for-fucking-real, man? Like is this happening or have I just fucking lost it

forbidden knowledge.

[ okay, well. this is real. that's been confirmed thrice over. eddie's had his complete nervous breakdown (and a half) and here he is, trying to be useful. maybe thankful to be alive even if it feels kind of like all he did was trade one cult for another. his knees are bouncing through the sermon, teeth chomping at his nails as he tries to settle his nerves and figure out the next move.

and then there's paper fluttering from the sky. a hand instantly lifts to catch one and he's sure, somewhere in the less frantic part of his mind, that this is bad move. that this thoughtless act is karma for all the times he laughed at a player failing a perception check.

but no one acts like they do at a table in real life. eddie squints down at the page and tries to decipher it, but the more he stares the less he understands. feeling the words slip and slide against his mind, nothing catching. someone speaks and some part of his mind latches on to what they said, blinking up at them in confusion. ]

Uh - sorry, man, I was zoning out... run that by me again?

arrival;

( weaponless, alone, and clothed in a tragically frumpy robe, karlach decides to try to fit in with the locals, at least until she can work out a plan, or get her hands on something sturdy, heavy, and good for knocking people over the head. whichever comes first.

there’s one minor problem with her attempt at going incognito, though, and it’s that she appears to be the only tiefling in this entire village so, uh, blending in is proving to be a bit of a challenge. still, she tries, despite it feeling rather like she’s rolling nat 1 after nat 1.

she’s wandering, mostly, trying to get her bearings in this place. it’s uncomfortable in a way she can’t quite put her finger on, and when she finally spots someone who looks as lost as she feels, she’s eager to approach, though she’ll try to keep up the facade for no reason other than to avoid drawing undue attention. )

Hey, you, ( she says. it’s a gentle greeting, fond and familiar if she already knows you. soft and friendly even if she doesn’t. the next bit she says through gritted teeth: ) Old Ones’ blessings be upon you, or whatever.

forbidden knowledge;

( it’s kind of pr…etty…..? in a way? this flutter of pages around them.

or, maybe, karlach is just trying to see the bright side of an otherwise absolute shit situation. she watches the pages in silence for a little while, and it’s only when one settles at her feet that she decides to reach for it.

the moment her fingers touch the page, a bolt of energy shoots out from the very paper itself. she’s no magic user so she has no idea what it is. could be force something-or-other, or some sort of spell that commands people to dance, or nothing at all. she really couldn’t tell you.

she does notice that the magic shot straight towards a nearby person, and regardless of whether they manage to dodge or not, she shouts: )

Oh, fucking hells! Sorry! Are you alright? It was this stupid paper, not me! Promise!

wildcard;

( hello again, still pretty open to doing whatever. still very willing to patch prose if you prefer. )

[ Arrivals ]

[ One of the new arrivals looks less disoriented than the others; where those unused to world-hopping may seem discombobulated, this young man is glancing about warily. He's tired, yes, and he aches, he doesn't understand why any world would summon him without Wormmon, but....

Familiar. Something about this place - this religion - is familiar. The miasma in the air, near their places of worship....It's a phantom pain only, nothing genuine, but the back of his neck prickles. Stings. He hasn't felt like this since -

Oh, no. ]

Excuse me.

[ He isn't sure who here is new and who isn't, so he'll just start approaching people and hoping for the best. ]

These "Old Ones". Do they come from an ocean?

[ Forbidden Knowledge ]

[ You may find Ken in one of two conditions.

If you catch him early in the page deluge, he's racing to grab up as many as he can collect, his eyes wild. Each is scanned frantically, and he's muttering to himself. ]

Why - that....that doesn't.....

[ ....but as he thinks, the page leaves him suggestible, and he murmurs... ]

No, it does....it does make sense....Mm.

[ Later, when he's shaken the hold the pages had on him (and done who-knows-what thanks to all of you in the meantime), he's running up to anyone still holding onto one - or anyone who's fallen under the influence of the leathery pages. Without Wormmon, there may be only so much he can do, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't try! ]

Stop!

[ What's the page making this person do? And, crucially - is anyone in danger?? ]

[ Barrier ]

[ Ken has wandered to the outskirts of town, the hood of his novice's robes pushed back to let the wind, such as it is, rifle his hair. He's staring up at the barrier, contemplative. ]

It's really there.....But is it keeping something out, or in....

[ He puts a hand to his chin to think. ]

[ A. Arrivals ]

[ The concept itself of moving between worlds is not exactly new for Archnemon, but for the circumstances. It wasn't where she had been, it wasn't anywhere she had been before and -

No. She's just not going to think about it. Instead she stands abruptly, blinking wordlessly for a few moments among strangers, trying desperately to ignore the sensation that something is very, very wrong, very different - she'll deal with that later if not at all, thank you -

Still, being in this area feels much too crowding, so she starts to move away from the cathethral groups, trying to find a less crowded area -- did someone bump into her? Did she just accidentally push her way past someone, or attempt to? That's inconvenient, since the shove doesn't even have the effect she'd want it to. ]

Ugh, I swear.

[ She mutters, not quite as sharp a remark, but enough to convey her irritation if one was expecting an immediate apology. ]

[ B. forbidden knowledge ]

[ This is irritating. All she wanted was a high perch to look down from without much hassle, but no, it's raining paper. Well, now it's raining confetti, for any passing by below, as she frustratedly begins to shred parchments that blow in her way. A good way to let off steam, destruction - of course, the occasional person might try to get her to stop, but she's just so invested.

And then of course, it's no longer just ordinary paper to go to shreds. One sends up a little flare of glitter to float into the path of a wandering by stranger. Another, a small crackle of lightning striking too close for comfort on the next roof. Another, a loud, ringing bell like noise, ringing through the ears of passerbys.

She balls the next one up in a fist and throws it. Hopefully that won't result in anything unfortunate. Or you know, enough people down below could implore another recent arrival to step in to assist. ]

[ C. wildcard! ]

[ There's always another option. ]

Edited 2023-10-14 20:11 (UTC)

[I.]

[The summoning itself had been almost unbearable for Tsukiyama - something about the way his body had felt contorted inwards had been familiar and not in a good way, not in a way he was going to like, and while some had come in fighting and making demands, there's this poor asshole dropping to his knees in the aisle, looking for all the world like he's going to throw up before he manages to get enough air into his system to discourage that particular physical reaction.

So he's just here, and he's on the floor, and he looks up at these people just standing there trying to tell him that he shouldn't disrespect the touch of the old ones and the unpleasantness means he's been blessed, and he seems to draw back into himself, crouching back like some sort of feral animal for the briefest of moments before he seems to get a hold of himself, lowering his head and raising a hand in brief but visible surrender.]

Ah… Yes, yes, the blessing I've been granted will not be denied, who am I to say what will come to pass? I'm…sorry, I have a poor constitution…

[He rises slowly, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the others around him, though if anyone is paying particular attention he still seems a bit fidgety after he resettles in the pew.

He can be found out on the streets a while later, still in the horrendously unfashionable robe we've all been made to endure here; he seems a bit better and not quite as disoriented as before, and he's quick to offer a smile and a wave, not nearly as averse to eye contact as he was before.]

Greetings, and may the Old Ones' blessings be bountiful! My apologies for any disruption earlier; I meant no disrespect.

[II.]

[Blending in in this place is…well, it's an adventure, and it involves a level of play-acting that he's both used to and that's still managing to throw him off just a little bit, and it's that little bit that has him completely unprepared for the pages spilling forth from the skies but willing to find it absolutely delightful.]

Ah, fantastico - it seems that our arrival truly was blessed, was it not? This can only be a good sign of things to come.

[...Either he completely drank the koolaid within the first ten minutes of arrival, or he's just always like this about everything? Either way, he seems pretty excited about this whole thing, and he sets out around town to gather the more intelligible pages to himself as well as he can. Tsukiyama has always been an avid reader, and he can be found in the square outside the church with a page he's reading and several more in-hand, and clearly this is going to be a project- ]

I would say this is frustrating if it weren't so fascinating - there's wisdom to be found here, I know it as well as I know myself…

arrival

[It's kind of funny to end up here via summoning when he just got done summoning someone back home, but that's the sort of thing he probably shouldn't mention, so Ryuunosuke keeps his mouth shut and listens to the droning lectures about the Old Ones. By the time they're finally turned loose to sort themselves out, he still seems remarkably upbeat for someone who was dragged here against his will and can't return home.]

Oh, hey! You're one of the ones that was just brought here, right?

[Regardless of if you are or aren't, that's the greeting you're getting, and Ryuunosuke grins. The smile doesn't reach his eyes.]

What do you make of all this? I'll admit, it's kind of a lot to take in...

forbidden knowledge

[Honestly, Ryuunosuke was expecting something more interesting than papers, but maybe the Old Ones are tired out after dragging a bunch of newcomers here and this is the best they can do. Hopefully next time will be more interesting... But fine, he can at least be somewhat useful, and picking up stray papers isn't particularly difficult.

So off he goes, gathering up several pages without even bothering to check their contents - at least until the current one catches his eye. The symbols there almost look familiar, almost like—

There's a sudden burst of energy in the form of a small fireball - it thankfully hits a tree and not a person, but Ryuunosuke jumps and glances over at said tree. Yikes, that tree has definitely seen better days... It might still be burning, um??]

Well, that's weird.

[Huh. Well, alright cool, he's just going to continue collecting pages like that didn't just happen?? Maybe someone should tell him to stop. Or at least put out the fire? Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.]

wildcard & notes

( Ryuunosuke is a character that comes with quite a few content warnings - I have an opt-out post over here with more information. It's very unlikely that any of this will come up in TDM threads, but if it somehow does I will warn for it! If you'd like to do something else with Ryuunosuke, feel free to hit me up on plurk at pokerap! )

Edited 2023-10-15 22:26 (UTC)

Arrival p1

[First Aid has, perhaps, a harder transition than most -- although he was built on Earth, his body is Cybertronian, and thus heavily armored and enormous, theoretically impermeable to invasion -- but only theoretically. He feels a wrenching sense of vertigo, loses track of the ground beneath his feet, and then...There's a sense of overwhelming pressure, coming in from all sides, he's being squeezed in an incomprehensibly giant fist --

He screams when he feels his chest plates begin to buckle, and then, mercifully, the failsafes in his processors flip, and he loses consciousness.

He comes back to himself on some sort of bench in an enclosed space, shivering so hard that he's surprised not to hear his own plating chime. There are people standing around him -- oh, humans, there are humans here -- and they tell him...they tell him...

They tell him complete nonsense.]

Arrival p2

[It's not the teleportation that has First Aid bewildered. There's a reason space-time is such a difficult area of study after all, it's complicated and there are so many things that can go wrong. Within First Aid's own lifetime a small band of Autobots and Decepticons had once travelled fourteen hundred years into Earth's past, and only narrowly had the Autobots stopped the Decepticons from altering the timeline...compared to that, traveling to some other human-inhabited world was nothing!

It was the part where he was in a human body now too that was giving him trouble.

How fortunate that he'd been programmed with knowledge of human medicine as well as Cybertronian! It meant he could monitor himself and manually stave off the symptoms of shock and panic attacks! Sure, he probably looks a little unbalanced as he slowly walks along, muttering to himself about the things he can hear and see and smell, but that just can't be helped right now. One thing at a time, please!]

Three things I can hear, um...people walking...somebody arguing about...bread rolls? Um...birds?

[He turns to squint up into the foliage of a nearby tree.]

Forbidden Knowledge

[Oh no, who's dropping all this paper everywhere? Don't they know that that's littering? And all this paper lying around is such a tripping hazard, oh no! What if one of the elderly wanders by, or an uncoordinated small child, or someone with a disability? First Aid's just...he's just going to start picking this stuff up now, hopefully one of the locals can help him find a good place to put it all...

He doesn't mean to stop and read any of the pages, that would be completely counterproductive. But one glance turns into two, turns into more, and so he finds himself standing in the middle of the street squinting at a manuscript that...It must be in a language he knows! He was programmed with fluency in two thousand human languages, and three times that in alien ones! Admittedly with his physical databanks gone he couldn't access the majority of those languages right now, but he still should have been able to recognize it...]

Damn it...what is this, even...

Threaded | Flat

QUESTIONS

Lae'zel | Baldur's Gate 3

Gale Dekarios | Baldur's Gate 3

Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3