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! tdm

TDM // #2

TEST DRIVING MEME #2

REBIRTH ALWAYS FOLLOWS DEATH

You died. Sort of. You float, sort of, blissfully unaware in a snug cocoon as both your Self and the world beyond slowly align. You're you still, you think, a hazy awareness as your eyes flutter open, and you see... nothing. A viscous substance blurs your vision, faint thrills of panic coiling around your lungs, swelling in your throat; wrapped in an ectoplasmic sheath, you're disoriented at best, frantically wondering where you are and how you wound up here. Whatever here is. Everything’s fuzzy, perception is limited, movement is restricted... and then it dawns on you, glacial down your spine, the nagging certainty that wherever you were before, you no longer exist there.

You're trapped. Your once cozy cocoon quickly becomes your prison, and an overwhelming sense of dread incites you to escape. On your own, you'll tire rapidly, weak still, unadjusted to the Netherworld's configuration. Scream loud enough and someone might come to your aid, though the process will leave you weaker still; as a new Restless, you go from the semi-sensory deprivation of the Shroud into your new existence without warning or preparation, spilling out of your protective husk breathless, confused, and naked. You're free, but at what cost.

Blink. Breathe. Find your footing. When your eyes get used to the twilight-hued ambience, you'll immediately see more Shrouds, everywhere and ripped apart like a vast nest of broken cauls. Through the emerald fog surrounding you, doors. An endless cluster of them, no frames, no jambs. Your name is carved on one of them, and you don't know how or why you know this, but you do. You'll find yourself inherently drawn to yours: maybe it's a pull, a hum, a light, a quiet sound in the static. Instinctively, you know it's safe, and you know that whatever you'll find within, calling out to you, you ought to protect... but before you run and cross the threshold, your focus wanes, and you catch something in the periphery of your vision...

► I. REAP WHAT YOU SOW

a. A CLOAKED FIGURE STANDS BEFORE YOU, EERILY QUIET. It only stares, faceless, towering well over you as you struggle to find your balance on your weakened feet, the air you breathe in scorching your throat. Your senses are annoyingly muddled, and it's enough of a distraction, perhaps, to overlook your state of undress. And then it finally speaks. The Reaper. It's surprisingly polite, its voice a melodious string of low hissing notes as it calmly explains what and where you are; a Restless, citizen of the Netherworld. You were reborn here for reasons unknown, another soul among thousands with seemingly unfinished business, cursed or blessed to roam a world slowly devoured by an entropic force. Hell? Perhaps, if it suits your beliefs, though some do thrive here, and keeping Oblivium at bay is a collective effort.

Around you, others like you break out of their Shrouds, and some walk the land fully dressed, with an ease that unequivocally evokes the passage of time. They've been here for a while, and it shows. You might catch bits of conversations here and there, learn more about your new home and new purpose from eavesdropping. The Reaper that's helped you out of your cocoon is, unfortunately, a poor conversationalist, though it does point its rawboned finger towards the stormy horizon, speaking of an immense city in the far distance that shelters thousands of Restless and offers essential supplies for all. Stygia. It doesn't stay much longer: without preamble, the Reaper vanishes into a plume of indigo smoke, essentially leaving you to fend for yourself. This is your chance to reach and cross the threshold of your very own door, find some clothes, your Tethers, and a device that'll enable you to reach out to anyone willing to listen. Others like you might have answers on the Netherwork-- chattier Reapers, even. Just watch out. The moons above glisten crimson, and Badaliscus roam in especially high numbers across the Shadowlands, aggressive and carriers of plague-like diseases. If you wander, do mind the giant split in the earth as well, surrounded by blackened soil. You can't miss it, strange, guttural noises coming from its depths. A fall into a drop that steep would be deadly, as no light or hope shines at the bottom of the chasm... though l'appel du vide is nearly unbearable. Does it whisper your name?

THINGS YOU MIGHT HEAR OR OBSERVE
► some compare this place to a purgatory
► an old sage has apparently found a "stairway to heaven"
► another restless' acquaintance has recently lost their battle against their shadow and nearly killed them -- probably because they didn't have a soulmate. they now dwell in the labyrinth with other monstrosities
► some restless can be spotted laughing hysterically, or arguing with themselves
► objects never last unless reforged with a soul's essence
► the hierarchy used to send a welcome party for new arrivals but now seem reluctant to leave stygia -- maybe because new arrivals are now a daily thing, sometimes hourly
► no one seems to know what reapers truly are
► ferrymen never speak

THINGS YOU MIGHT STUMBLE UPON
► small fumaroles that emit occasional bursts of molten lava and splatter anyone nearby
► ragged open pits in the ground that spout boiling water and steam at irregular intervals
► scattered rubies; if touched, they'll start shouting and demand that you "unhand them at once, varlet!!", which may attract funny looks or undesired attention
► withered trees, grass, deserted campfires, various debris, bloated corpses, and fog
► mirrors that reflect the back of the person that looks into them
► a mausoleum. the structure appears perfectly normal at first, but examination reveals that there are no doors to allow entry or exit

if you choose to address the netherwork directly as one of your prompts, reapers or any other npc might reply to you. otherwise, feel free to speculate with other characters!
additionally, if you wind up poisoned or injured by a badaliscus, the occasional scaleberry can sometimes be found in the shadowlands, often rotten and scattered around withered trees. you'll find this kind of information in your smartphone's database, but anyone with healing abilities could also come to your aid: just remember that magic in the netherworld is unpredictable.
lastly, if l'appel du vide is too strong for you to resist, and if no one is able to keep you from falling to your death, a reaper will eventually give you a hand, immediately poofing out of existence afterwards.

b. NOT ALL REAPERS ARE AMICABLE. The same cloaked figure unceremoniously yanks you out of your Shroud, a mouthful of mud and ashes as you brutally land on the ground. You feel everything all at once: the acute pain of your rebirth, the pull of your Tethers, the cacophony around you, and the dull voice in the back of your mind. You breathe, and then you don't, shackles around your neck, your wrists, the gravelly soil grazing your skin raw and bloody as you're pulled by your feet. Your screams remain unanswered, though it might catch the attention of a passerby, should they be brave enough to face your tormentor. Now would be a good time to resort to any skill you might have to free yourself, past your confusion and growing agony, lest you be carried to the Forges. It's the only thing it mentions, laughing unhinged as you approach the shores, where a brittle ship awaits you. The good news is that Reapers loathe water: splash it or try to push it overboard, a distraction that should allow you to strike in some way. The bad news is that the Tempest isn't kind to anyone, especially you, and you're sort of shackled. Rest assured that it'll fight back, tooth and claw, a scythe at its disposal as well as blood-curdling shrieks that might deafen or temporarily paralyze you. Scream for help if you've yet to get any: someone is bound to hear.

► II. OF SOULS & SHADOWS

a. WHETHER YOU'VE FAILED TO FREE YOURSELF OR MANAGED TO BOARD A FRIENDLIER SHIP, you won't escape the storm, a tempest within a tempest.

Grey clouds boil across the sky in a bruise-colored wall, forked lightning and thunder booming overhead. The clouds open, a black and green funnel growing down towards you. As it swirls closer, you see faces, staring out from within and screaming. Gale force winds whip the sails of your ship, debris flying through the air: glass, wood, metal. The ship sways, and you sway with it, the groans of your vessel as it's tossed about in rough waters almost deafening. It's terrifying. If you were being transported to the Forges, the Reaper quickly abandons you, leaving you to your demise. If you were lucky enough to board a safer ship, pay attention. You're holding on for dear unlife as sheets of rain slap against your face, blown off-balance by heavy gusts of wind, but you see them in the raging waves, Restless just like you, shackled and helpless in the storm. You have a choice, your first dilemma: focus your energies on saving yourself and anyone else aboard your ship, or take the wheel and navigate through the winds, screams and flotsam in order to try and rescue them. Coils of rope are available, tarps, barrels and buckets.

b. WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE OR WHEREVER YOU ARE, your Shadow might take this very ill-timed opportunity to make itself known -- if it hasn't already. You're scared, torn, tired, and maybe a little hysterical -- it knows. It's in your head. Literally. It's you, and it's not, a growing onslaught of inappropriate thoughts, impulsive and intrusive as it makes an attempt to figure you and itself out. It's never been sentient before, perhaps even unsure of its purpose for a time. And then, as you struggle against the storm, it speaks:

Enjoying your first taste of sea-salt horrors? You can feel it, can't you. The pull. It's eating at you, subtly, but it's there. You can’t run. You can’t get away from me either, because I’m you, and I’m just as much a part of you as all the noble ideals you hold. All the awful thoughts you ever entertained, all the things you were ashamed of or couldn't bring yourself to say, and all the lies you told... that’s what I am, and you can’t make me go away. You can’t outlive me. I’m going to remind you of all the terrible things you did or wanted to do, and I’m going to get you to do more of them, because you’re still you and you still have all those nasty little urges floating around. Only now I’m here to highlight the opportunities you have to indulge. Don't be shy. If you won't speak your mind, I'll do it for you. If you ever considered redemption, think again. Fight me or silence me if you wish, it doesn't matter. Even if you succeed. I may go dormant for a while, but I'll always come back stronger. I'm your Shadow, and Oblivium awaits us.

Deaded things slam into you, spat out of the tornado. The sight snaps you out of your daze, but you don't have time to ponder whether this eerie interlude was real. It won't speak again, never directly. You'll know it's there, viscerally, as your Self and Shadow struggle to come to grips with this new antagonistic yet symbiotic relationship. If you've never been kind to yourself before, learn how to, because it won't be.

Luckily, this whole ordeal may have left somewhat of a positive mark on you: Sparks. Two of them. It's a light buzz in the back of your mind, a tickle beneath your skin as nether magic courses through your veins, an inherent part of you now. The knowledge of what is happening to you is abstract at best, but it's there, and if necessary, you'll know how to use your newfound abilities:

a. Teleportation, allowing you to vanish into thin air and relocate anywhere you wish, the same way a Reaper would. Usable 4 times.
b. Mind-reading, albeit a bit murky. Think of it as a weak signal reception. Pry some information about the Netherworld out of an NPC's mind, or try to find out what a friend think of you. Lasts 12 hours.

► III. THE ETERNAL CITY

IF YOU'VE ELECTED TO REACH STYGIA INSTEAD OF MATERIALIZING BACK INTO YOUR HOME IN THE SHADOWLANDS, you'll be welcomed by fishermen in the Harbors, and most of them seem... well, a little annoyed, honestly. Additional mouths to feed, and all that. Stygia has been at max capacity for decades, and resources aren't always easily obtained. But they were like you, once -- freshly undead, overwhelmed -- and if they sigh and glower as you pass by, quick to dismiss you, you'll soon be guided towards what seems to be a Notice Board, a map of Stygia pinned just below. Make yourself useful, you're told. If you hope to survive here, better start by earning your keep!

If you're injured, a healer will tend to you in Hale. Poultices can also be found in the Marketplace, as well as bandages, etc. The only problem is... you have no coin, and not much to barter with. Pick a job from the Notice Board if you're willing, or find shelter in Serene: most people there will welcome you into their homes, so long as you don't overstay said welcome. Alternatively, if you ask around, a fellow Restless might be able to help you. Steal if you wish, though be warned that there might be consequences.

Meanwhile, if the thought of returning to the Shadowlands is a little overwhelming for now, you will come across empty buildings and houses all over Stygia, most of them in varying states of repair. They're yours for the taking, if you don't mind cob-webs or shattered windows, but all you have is time now, and a little renovation can go a long way!

As you explore your new environment, you might start experiencing odd and subtle changes...

ooc note

► Welcome to Nightfell's second TDM! All threads can be considered game canon and may be used as samples if you choose to apply.
► Check out the Notice Board for additional prompts! Older quests can be found in the comments if you'd rather do them instead.
► For your convenience: Bestiary, Glossary, Setting.
► If you still have questions regarding the game in general, please refer to the FAQ. For questions specific to the TDM, ask them below!
► We hope you enjoy your first experience in Nightfell!

Threaded | Flat

(top level and threads under it are content-warned for suicidal ideation, death romanticizing talk, and possibly self-harm.)

𝒾. “𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃." (arrival)

(who would have thought dying would look like this? not a memory of how, whether he had been alone, whether it was done by his own hand, nor of his wish of having a calm one, untroubled. it's not what dazai imagined, in any shape or form, to be reborn, down to the nakedness of it. it's rather awkward to be this bare when his body is often wrapped in his bandages, so a hand runs across his arms and scars once he sets himself free.

it's almost like the door speaks to him, a hand reaching until he sees a glimpse of the afterlife personified. dazai's not afraid, but rather curious as the tale unfolds from the veiled figure. at least the afterlife isn't dreadfully boring - if it is the afterlife itself. he'd be rather naive to believe everything he's told from a supernatural figure, after all.

once he's gotten mostly dressed, dazai'll sit next to the influx of people, shirtless as he rolls his bandages around his torso, arms, hands, do, redo, just so he has a good excuse to eavesdrop.)

𝒾𝒾. “𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓎 "𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓉𝓎"? 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝓊𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈?” (notice board)

('make yourself useful', they said? well, not a penny in his pocket, he might as well put his skills into use. he's holding a finger against the paper, reading each and every word before he sighs.

whoever is near gets pulled near him, a smile as he taps the paper once, twice.)

Choose one!

𝒾𝒾𝒾. 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹

(go for it, have fun with it, i'll go with what i'm sent! i'm also voicetesting, so if anything, feel free to pm this account!)

——REAP WHAT YOU SOW

( you're not going to kill me, he'd said, and now he wonders why he'd let the words leave his mouth. in hindsight, there could only have been one outcome: gamora kills him and he doesn't really know why there had been even a part of him that'd expected otherwise. play stupid games, win stupid flarking prizes, quill.

this isn't what he'd expected would greet him when died, though now he takes the time to think about it, he doesn't know what he'd expected. there's a faint, small part of him that wonders if this is inside the soul stone, but the rest of him, the part that affirms that yes, he really is dead, says that no. it's not. this is a place all of its own.

he finds his door, his tethers, his clothes. the conspicuous lack of 'gaping hole' in the torso tells him that they're not the ones he'd been wearing when he'd died, but they're close enough that, aside from that one, admittedly large difference, he could have been convinced otherwise. once clothed, he heads back outside, back into the shadowlands. it's unpleasant and disconcerting but it's definitely not the worst place he's spent time, not by any stretch of the imagination.

the reaper that had greeted him had pointed out the dwelling in the distance: stygia. it seemed as good a place as any to head, but peter takes his time. if questioned, he'll argue that he's not deliberately eavesdropping, he's just, you know, turned about. trying to make head or tails of everything.

(it's a lie. he is eavesdropping.)

he overhears comparisons to purgatory which — okay. oddly faith-based, but at least it's not universal church of truth kind of faith based. at the same time, he overhears another conversation, one that does give him pause — given everything else, that is — and he stops short, attention shifting to the closest person nearby. they look as new as he does, but that doesn't stop him from shooting them a quizzical, almost disbelieving look, mouthing a word at them. )

—Soulmates? ( his lingering, pointed gaze says: you heard that too, right? )

——NOTICEBOARD, hinterlands

( the jobs posted on the noticeboard range from an easy way to get a little money to more challenging, more in line with the type of work he's used to — by a definition of 'used to', at least. gathering star fragments isn't, strictly speaking, part of his usual wheelhouse, but it's not the weirdest thing he's ever done or even considered doing, and more than that, more than the payment (though it's definitely suitably convincing) is his own curiosity around the star fragments gets the better of him. none of the constellations are any he recognises, and whilst that's not exactly a shocker, it does mean he has capital-q questions about—

—well, everything, frankly.

thanks to items available within his door, he's dressed in for him usual attire: practical, comfortable, and (probably) ideal for exploring the wilderness (he's not sure, he wouldn't describe himself as 'at home' in a forest).

not naturally a loner, tramping through mud and grass and frankly questionable fauna alone gets tiring after not very long at all, and whilst the goatherder he'd spoken to had been more than helpful in ensuring he was heading in the right direction, he hadn't been otherwise very chatty, keen for peter to leave him alone and allow him to continue tending to his goats (or, like, whatever it is goatherders do).

which is to say, when he happens upon someone else, someone who looks as out of place out here as he does, he takes himself on a slight detour — the scenic route, if you will — to ensure he has both ground to spare if things go sideways and that he doesn't spring out of nowhere. surprise is great in very specific circumstances: making oneself appear friendly in potentially hostile territory is not one of them. )

——NETHERWORK

Not to be flippant but this isn't the first time I've "died", so... Are we sure this is going to stick, or does it come with a series of Ts and Cs?
The amniotic fluid sacs, bloated corpses, soulmates and stairway to Heaven commentaries are giving very mixed messages.

——OTHER

( ooc: i totes dropped the ball on the first tdm — sorry! but i'm back and ready to rumble! open to wildcards + other prompts if none of the above take your fancy, but if you want to hash anything out, please send me a pm!!
aside: canon point is circa cates' run on GOTG, post duggan's infinity wars mess lmao )

ARRIVAL

[ She wakes up naked ~~again~~, a sudden force gripping tight around her ankle and jolting her fully awake. Instead of letting go though, it starts dragging, and she barely has a moment to let out a started hey before her body hits the ground and gravel and dirt streak across her body as she's unceremoniously pulled along without a single care towards her comfort.

She fights back. Or tries to. But her body feels unnaturally weak, her reflexes slow to respond, and all she can manage are frantic claws through the dirt as she shouts, angry protests that go ignored as the cloaked figure continues onwards unperturbed.

In the distance she thinks she sees a figure. Another one of these assholes, or salvation? She shouts out again regardless, as loud as she can. ]

Hey! Help me!

NETHERWORK

If anyone sees a guy with black hair and a white trenchcoat, put a leash on him and tell me right away.

[ This definitely isn't a kink thing or anything. ]

NOTICE BOARD

A — FISHING SIDEQUEST (THE HARBORS)

[ Maybe if she'd been written to be a Pro Gamer™ like a certain someone, Huiwon would understand the significance of this particular job posting. There's always a fishing questline in video games. Always. As it stands, she loiters by the ocean, pants rolled up to her shins and a fishing rod held uncertainly in her hands as she waits for the telltale tug of her fishing line.

It's obvious she's never fished before in her life. ]

Are we really just supposed to wait here...?

[ It's been like 20 minutes of just standing around without a single thing to show. Just ahead, in a patch of rippling waves, she can see the occasional shimmer of fish scales as one breaks through the surface before dipping back down. Like the fish are mocking her. Maybe she should just wade in and try and catch one with her hands.... ]

B — UNSOLVED MYSTERIES (MIRTH)

[ So.....movies.

She likes movies about as much as anyone else, and it's been a long time since she's had the luxury of just sitting down somewhere and indulging in two hours' worth of braindead entertainment. Why not help out the theater guy and score some free movies?

Instead of searching through all the rooms though, she's out front by the concessions booth (is there a concessions booth??? there is one now), peering through the cases at the various treats on display. ]

We should ask for some popcorn afterwards, right? Or some candy bars to eat while we watch the movies.

[ You can't have movies without popcorn?? It just ain't right, man. ]

💋

[ So you're just minding your own business walking down the street when some jerk shoves you forward, causing you to lose your balance.

The good news is: you don't hit the ground, crack your head open, and die (again).
The bad news is: you hit someone else (it's Huiwon), the two of you fall to the ground together (peak romance) and end up with your lips smashed together and also maybe some hands grabbing at inappropriate body parts, as you do when you fall down and grab for the nearest thing to stabilize yourself with.

Hope that wasn't your first kiss.

yaywon asked for this prompt, blame her ]

ETC

[ Whatever floats your boat. PM me if you'd like to plan something specific! ]

Edited (when u don't finish a sentence...) 2022-10-23 20:16 (UTC)

REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ The door bearing Abby's name opens to a recurring nightmare: she is staring down a blood-streaked corridor leading to the surgery suites at Saint Mary's Hospital. Red alarm bulbs flash intermittently, the only source of light in the dark. At the end of the hall is the door she will open to find her father's body.

She has lived this before. She relives it almost every night.

Abby turns and books it for the door she came through. On the way back, she grabs a pile of clothes— hers, somehow— from atop a stretcher. She bursts through the door and nearly topples over, trying to pull her pants up even as she runs. She doesn't stop running, as if the memory behind the door were chasing her, until she needs to catch her breath. ]

Fuck! [ She coughs out in a hoarse voice, the first thing she's said since this waking nightmare began. She is doubled over, breathing hard, and oblivious to her surroundings. It's a good way to die, if she hadn't done that already. ]

THE ETERNAL CITY

[ Not much is familiar in a place like this, but looting empty buildings comes second nature to someone who grew up after Outbreak Day. Abby is thorough: cabinets picked through, drawers sifted, closets ransacked. She leaves no stone unturned. If she stays here— and chances are she will, because she's not going back to a place that mirrors her worst memory— she'll pick up later. Maybe. What does it matter, either way?

When footsteps alert her to another intruder, she grabs the nearest heavy object— a lamp with a deceptively heavy base— and brandishes it as the stranger approaches. ] Stay the hell back!

NETHERWORK

"When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light."

If this means something to you, we should talk.

WILDCARD

[ Choose your own adventure! PM this journal for any plotting or other needs. ]

REBIRTH & REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ the entire breadth of emotions he goes through in this short period of time is nothing less than pure insanity. there’s a part of him that still feels the heat of anger boiling underneath it all, and it’s what drives him forward, despite being so physically worn down. he doesn’t know when’s the last time he’s been this exhausted… except, he actually does. the poison he was hit with prior to this made him feel like every single one of his bones were burning and prickling into his body.

as if his ribs were hollowed out and stabbed individually. now, oddly enough, may have been an improvement. or it’s a line of thinking he purposely adopts to keep his mind grounded. especially when supposedly he hears that he’s dead, at least, from what conversations he’s gathered. it makes sense and no sense at the same time. so much for an emperor being flawless. the only fact is he may just be flawlessly dead.

he seems to ponder this a moment too long before he looks at the nearest person, dressed or equally undressed, he stared them down. with equal intensity. ] Do you like what you see that much? [ he’s… just being an ass to be an ass, of course. ]

NETHERWORK.

Respond to me as soon as possible.
You will regret it if you don’t.

Callisto Regulus  
[ because what makes for better conversation than straight up threats. ]

NOTICEBOARD.

MIRTH. [ the level of technology exhibited was no different than actual witchcraft or wizardry to him. when he was asked to find some sort of movie, his knee-jerk response is to state that he had no time to dabble in such a useless farce. but, well, he also wasn’t one to just outright deny a request made of him. hence, he figured it was no skin off his back to also just learn a bit more about the environment around him.

…

but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking for. he spends upwards of half an hour pretty much just making a complete mess of things, before his eyes finally flicker back to the screen. it’s in this that he sees he’s not alone. not that it matters...

A. it probably doesn’t help that he is popping in during a jump scare, nor does it help that was crouching until now, since he saw a brief flicker of something on the ground, so without nothing he reaches and grabs the legs of the nearest person. damn, his bad…

B. it’s dark in the theater room and so he doesn’t realize that the USB everyone is looking for happens to be right under the tip of his boot. maybe you found it and want him to move? either way, he crosses his arms over his chest, seeming to admire the screen, before he quietly says: ]

How they're doing this aside... [ playing actual images into an actual working movie, that is. but, more importantly: ] How utterly unrealistic. Beheading someone doesn't look like that at all. [ uh, how do you know this...

and why is he smiling while saying this as if it were amusing to him somehow. ]

WILDCARD.

[ hit me up with anything! or just put an emoji in the subject line and idk i'll think of something. ]

ib. nasty reaper

[He's running. Chains clatter behind him, but as long as no one is holding the other end, they won't hinder him. He won't stop to remove his shackles. He won't stop to rub his scraped and bloody feet or to adjust the torn Reaper cloak he's wrapped around himself. He won't stop until the cacophony of shrieks and howls no longer echoes in his ears.

Or until a spout of steam erupts from under his foot and sends him somersaulting into another poor, unsuspecting Restless. That works too.]

ia. netherwork

has anyone seen a four leaf clover necklace anywhere? maybe near the freaky people cocoons? i didn't get a chance to look around when i first woke up, but it's really important to me, so if you picked it up please give it back.

thanks.

[It's probably a stupid thing to ask, considering the circumstances, but Takemichi finally decides to just do it anyway. The scary questions can come later.]

iii. the harbors

[Now that Takemichi's managed the secure some clothes and flipflops, now that he's calmed down enough to accept that he's well and truly dead, it's time to peruse the noticeboard. He picks what sounds like the easiest request and heads down to the harbors with a broomstick, wire, and a wad of feathers tied to a small piece of driftwood.

Anyone walking nearby will find him wet shorts planted on an otherwise empty dock, broomstick between his knees, grumbling to himself because the stupid fish aren't biting. And clearly that's a black spot on their little, fishy characters.]

REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ it isn't the first time she's been brought to another world, but this is perhaps the worst? well, other than becoming lant agriche's daughter by "accident". after all, she's dead in this realm and for reasons she's yet to find out.

in any case, it doesn't take her long before she gets up from where the reaper has woken her up, long, blonde hair stuck and matted to her skin, and roxana finds herself shivering despite the surrounding landscape. stumbling a little like a newborn foal, and staggers towards the entrance of the cave, she blinks and squints, red eyes adjusting to her surrounding as she tries to find others.

there are others, right? if this is truly the afterlife, then she can't be the only one dead. ]

Hello there, [ she hoarsely calls to the first person she sees, looking very much confused by all of this. though more importantly— ] Do you happen to know where we can find any clothes? Blankets? Curtains?

[ yes, she's very much naked btw, with only her hair barely clinging and covering bits and pieces of her body. she's not too fazed by the fact that she's naked, anyway; what's the point when lant trained her as a honeytrap? ]

NOTICE BOARD

Harbors. [ this is the one thing the agriche family never taught her to do: fishing, unless it's a different kind of fishing they're talking about.

to be fair, it's unnecessary when the family has hoards of servants to do their bidding, including menial tasks and chores. but roxana understands that she's no longer at home and there's no longer anyone who would do these tasks for her. so she has to learn but that doesn't mean she has to learn immediately. it only means that she'll have to find someone to teach her.

kind of.

wading ankle-deep in the water with her skirts hitched up to her thighs and a net in hand, her red eyes surreptitiously dart around in search of a person who could teach her the basics—and possibly do it on her behalf. ]

Oh! I found one.

[ guess who's feigning to see a fish and "clumsily" attempting to catch it. ]

Hinterlands. [ the request for star fragments is quite a curious endeavor for roxana, but it's clear that it's something she won't be able to handle alone. for one thing, her abilities hasn't been quite right since waking up and there's only so much she can do in this world.

for another, well ... those creatures, cute and curious as they are, don't seem very friendly. at least not towards her.

see, this is why she picked up this request with another person. ]

Any ideas?

[ she's pretty sure trying to use brute force is going to be fruitless. ]

WILDCARD

[ feel free to PM me if you'd like any specific starters, otherwise go wild! ]

NETHERWORK.

>> [ The Constellation, ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ is curious on what your thoughts are on all of this. ]

[ ...is this roleplay ]

NOTICE BOARD. (HARBORS)

[ and here the archangel is, leaning over to peer into the waters with a contemplating look. ]

If I had my sword then maybe...

[ eventually, she does attempt to fish! ... with her hands, in which the fish almost immediately wiggles out of them when she successfully manages to catch one. it escapes by sheer determination or fear for its life or y'know because they're so difficult to just hold normally anyways when they're still alive. either way, it's making a quick zoom in the air in attempt to return to freedom.

Uriel here unable to stop the curse from slipping out of her mouth as it makes its escape. ] Fuck!

[ ...and the fish's fate promptly ends with a slap to your face. oops. ]

NOTICE BOARD. (HITHERLANDS)

[ how long does one need to wander to find a sizable hole. hasn't it been an hour already? or two? how long has it been really??

sure, Uriel here has capable wings to fly around that would surely make it easier but that requires too much energy and she's already beginning to feel tired. but she finds the crater soon enough and is already distracted by the little fire elementals she's found within said remains. ]

Oh... [ she's a bit starry-eyed, seeming more interested in seeing their interactions with other characters. yes she may or may not be eavesdropping on any attempts of heroic tales you may be willing to share with the elementals. ]

WILDCARD.

[ throw anything else at me! whether it be another prompt or something random. ♥ ]

i. arrival, reap what you sow

OPTION A. arrival
( Water has always been a comfort to her. The depths of the ocean, surrounded by darkness and strange sea creatures, curled into her own body and pretending the rest of the world didn't exist for only that one moment— it was heavenly, in fact, to get lost in those moments. The darkness in the shroud had been completely different. Suffocating, closed in around her rather than vast and open and beautiful, disgusting and clinging around her with a strange heat. By the time she's finally helped free, she's left naked, gasping at the sensations that left her heart racing, chest aching. She's never felt so vulnerable as here, naked and standing before a cloaked stranger barely speaking and making short gestures. But she supposes she should consider herself lucky, as moments after, she realizes that not all reapers are so "kind."

For anyone being handled with violence or anything less than kindness, Kokomi stops to try and help. Her voice is firm, even if raspy from the strain of the situation, and her fingers curl at her own chest as she speaks. )

Unhand them at once!

( There's really no need to be so rough. )

OPTION B. reap what you sow
( Once she's faced only with her own door, Kokomi has to take a moment to prepare herself. She can understand why they're called restless here, and it's all she can feel at the moment now. The things she left behind, the people, the conflicts... This would be a huge impact. How can she just live with that?

But her fingers push the door open delicately, and she finds herself somewhere familiar. A certain nook beyond a particular large tree, where her desk and her bookshelves all seem to wait for her. They're different, though. Off. And her clothes are folded perfectly on her desk, allowing her to dress herself, tie her hair back, and grab the mysterious looking device left for her before heading back out. From there, she knows the instructions she must follow, and she begins her slow and cautious path to Stygia. )

OPTION C. netherwork
( Of course, she's curious about the device she's found, as well. It takes her time to type out what looks like a proper message, and she sends it once completed. )

un: sole of the deep

Dear fellow Restless,

Please forgive me if I happen to use this incorrectly, as it's quite foreign to me. I've only just arrived in this place, and I am on a path to what I'm told is a city that houses us "Restless." It's difficult to trust these cloaked figures, so I'd like to hear from anyone who has also been named a "Restless." Do you have any advice? I'm making note of threats as I move, but I'll be able to properly formulate a plan of entry if I have as much information as I can.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,
Sangonomiya Kokomi

ii. the harbors (notice board)

( At first, it might seem that Kokomi is here to help with the posted notice board. She's sitting so close to the water, feet dangling into it, and staring in with such depth that it's clear she's focused. But as soon as another body is close enough to snap her out of it, she jolts a small amount, blinking over in surprise. )

Oh, am I in your way? I'd be happy to move elsewhere, if you'd like to use this spot.

( Her eyes move back to the water first, though, fingers dipping in for one last experimental touch. )

Mm... It's just that I was certain I saw something...

iii. the eternal city

( Kokomi can be found investigating as much of the city as she possibly can, but there's a point where she can't handle it any longer. Unfortunately, it seems there are no inns she can find to stay at in exchange for chores, and even if there were, the company of strangers sounds stressful at the moment. And so, she finds herself at an abandoned home. As far as she can tell, no one is living here at all, and it's got cobwebs, broken pieces, and... oh, a bed!

She spends some time dusting the sheets off with some good shakes, grabbing an old, dirty rag and throwing it to dislodge cobwebs in the noticeable corners, and adjusting the front door so that it can shut properly. But could it be that she's missed someone's personal belongings set down in claim? Or someone else in the house itself? Maybe they've stepped out... Or maybe she hasn't made her own claim known well enough before she curls up, here, on the bed, falling asleep near immediately.

She needs a nap to recharge. Hopefully anyone else who might happen to be looking for housing (or who might have already viewed this as their own) won't mind sharing. )

iv. wildcard

( ooc. feel free to PM me with any questions or if you want me to write us a unique starter. I'm up for anything. ♥ )

► hell is catboys - shadowlands (reap what you sow)

[ the light that he was showered in disappears, and with it appears a cruel twist of fate: that whatever emptiness and void that he believed he would have faded into does not exist. instead, it's a dull pain that brands itself right in between his eyes, a headache that pulses with every beat of his not-quite-stilled heart, and the pitch black furred ears that peeks through sandy blonde hair twitch and flick in irritation. that he still bears anger and hatred and can still feel.

what a pain.

this liminal space, where he is able to slip on his robes and ensure that he is prepared for whatever waits for him outside of it, is not one he can afford to stay in forever. whether he deserves another chance or not is up to fate--- or something like it--- and as he steps into the shadowlands?

well. he's unimpressed. both of his ears splay, and his tail whose tip barely peeks out from the bottom of his garb, curls up and goes back into hiding. the magician folds his arms across his body, stares off into the distance, and shakes his head. as standoffish and unapproachable as he seems, he does regard those around him with a cursory glance. slightly curious, but also...

yep. definitely a pain. ]

► give me the k(nowledge) - serene (the eternal city)

[ nature is more trustworthy than any other thing here. that's what he believes, and what he feels will keep him grounded. this cat, whose eyes brighten upon the idea of some kind of knowledge hidden in the libraries above, stares up into the trees: at the structures that have been clearly built around and within the forest itself. it's amazing and astounding and beautiful to him, and something that continues to stir his curiosities in the best and worst of ways.

so. he climbs.

after all, what kind of cat can't scale trees? even though leaks has been more or less a grounded one, preferring to keep his feet on the ground and his claws hidden, it's not like he's incapable of scaling things. besides: physical exertion is perfectly warranted especially if there is knowledge involved. books he's never read. studies that he's never touched. any kind of research foreign to his world. he wants it. craves it.

and this is why he's sitting on a thicker branch right now, looking at a tree adjacent. he will definitely need to jump over to it. but there are also ones above that he simply cannot reach without assistance.

so, leaks rests. waits. sees if anyone else is coming. perhaps someone who has already climbed and can give him a hand. or, someone who is also 'stuck'. ]

► 0/10 would not watch again - mirth (notice board)

[ he doesn't know what a theater is, nor does he particularly care, but if doing some small task will allow him to accrue funds? he'll just have to deal. again, everything is pretty damn tiresome but if it has a purpose and he must play by the rules of this world... then he will. it's as simple as that even if he hates it.

most of the rooms have been empty. some of the floors are sticky, which he also dislikes very much. the feeling of his heels stepping in something that takes him a moment or two to wipe off slows him down, and he wrinkles his nose in disgust every time he's suddenly aware of an unpleasant aroma that strikes his senses in new and unfun ways. he'll make sure to complain to this theater's owner later about how he should doing a better job of keeping things clean, even though it's not his business. or, leaks will say nothing. why start caring about others?

it's when he approaches the second to the last room on the right that he realizes there is something playing. he can hear the soft sound of a video projector's film in this particular auditorium. the screen is bright white, the title in some language that he can't fathom--- it's blurry and hard to read. whatever movie is playing, nothing has actually been shown yet.

that is, until he steps further inside. something seems off, but leaks doesn't turn his head.

he's not alone, is he? or he's about to be not alone. one or the other. ]

► wildcard - anywhere (idk)

[ desire something else? pm this journal or leave something here! thank you <3 ]

( cw: Tim's backstory contains slight elements of sexual coercion/dubious consent wrt sex work that are treated with a certain degree of canon-typical nonchalance due to the overall shittiness that is the Borderlands universe. These are alluded to in prompt III.)

I. REAP WHAT YOU SOW / NETHERWORK

[ Rrrright, so. Timothy's dead. His efforts over the last seven years to carve out a nominally less miserable existence are all for naught, Pretty Boy iced him and is probably using his severed hand to harvest an entire casino's worth of ill-gotten wealth back on the mortal plane or whatever, and the only reason he didn't utterly brown his trousers at the creepy AF welcome wagon is because he wasn't wearing any.

The first thing Tim does when he steps through the doorway and finds himself back on the Jackpot is laugh — a high-pitched, ugly noise, a broken noise, edges curling with faint hysteria — because... of course. Of course this place won't ever let him leave, and he'd been a complete freaking moron to ever hope otherwise, because the Handsome Jackpot was built by Handsome Jack and Jack's death sure as shit never kept him from continuing to make Tim's life a living hell. So why should Tim's?

But he's got clothes now (familiar) and something that bears a passing resemblance to an ECHO device (unfamiliar), and if he's gotta spend his whole afterlife in this goddamn casino, at least he's got his VIP Tower access back. Weird to peek out that door and see nothing but decaying barrens, but if Timothy's well-accustomed to anything, it's taking what he's dealt. ]

Heya, kiddos! So, who around this vast uncaring wasteland feels like carpooling to the big shiny city on the horizon? Couldn't help but notice there's a bigass storm and like, a WHOLE bunch of monsters between here and there, so... any takers? Remember: teamwork makes the dream work.

Item numero dos: where could one find, say, a gun around these parts? Asking for reasons.

II. NOTICE BOARD / SERENE

[ The reason Timothy's lived this long, besides being Jack's favorite (and we are not thinking about that at all thank you), is because Timothy recognizes the inherent value of having allies. Jack saw it as a weakness, he's pretty sure. Undesirable, like he was doing it wrong, because Tim's biggest issue has always been the way he can't seem to use people without also trusting them. When Jack found the time to boast about what happened to Wilhelm via ECHO message... well, Wilhelm always freaked Tim out, don't get him wrong, but at least at one time they'd been, you know, comrades? Sort of? And seven years later, he still doesn't know if poisoning him was Jack's plan all along, or if he did it just to make some kind of point.

And then, y'know, things went quiet on Jack's end for a while. And then the lockdown. And then Tim knew: he was the only piece of Jack left.

And the other Doppelgangers? They don't count, okay. Never really did. If they had, maybe at least one of them would've lived.

SO THE POINT BEING... he's not alone here. Now. And that's good! In fact, if Tim squints it's almost like old times, just a ragtag couple of adventurers looking to make some cash by talking some insane old bastard out of making people into outsider art. You know, the kind of normal stuff that eventually sees you hiding behind rubble at the mouth of a cave and frantically trying to spitball a plan because you do not have a shotgun. ]

Okay, well, ummmm, [ Tim rubs at his mask in desperate thought, visible in his avoidance of the cracked portion, ] l-look, I went to school with art kids, maybe if we just ask him about his process or something? Oooo, let's tell him there's an issue with his financial aid!

III. NOTICE BOARD / MIRTH (cw: references to dubiously consented-to porno flick participation)

[ Find movies. Cool. Sure. Easy. Definitely better than almost being turned to stone, and he's got even more help this time, so whatever! Tim's done a lot worse for money. Or... okay, less "for money" and more "because Jack told him to," but theoretically they would've been the same thing had Jack ever, you know. Paid him what he was owed.

Anyway, he's like three steps into a vacant theater when he thinks he catches that first dusty establishing shot of Handsome Jack Tames Pandora starring Timothy Doppleman and does a full and immediate 180, then essentially starfishes in the entryway to bar additional scrutiny. Is that even the soundtrack? He's not even sure anymore. Maybe it's nothing. But maybe it's something. ]

Uhhhh yeah nope, nope, nnnnothing in this one! Soooo, anyway, jusssst-aaahh... [ just what. ] stretchin' it out. Now. Doors. Real good for that. Try it sometime! Not, not with this one though, this one's... mine, hey by the way—

[ Nailed it. ]

The hell's a "Blair Witch," anyway?

IV. WILDCARD, BITCHES

[ Whatever tickles thine pickle! Feel free to throw me a pm or find me @ piasora 😌 ]

Edited 2022-10-25 04:15 (UTC)

ℝ𝕖𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝔸𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝔽𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙
A.“I’m sorry. I never quite realized how beautiful this world is. I’m coming everyone… I’m… coming.”

A2 thought as she floated through the darkness. She felt at peace, finally.

Then it was suddenly swept away by a sense of panic. She couldn’t see, her vital signs were going haywire, and she couldn’t move. Was this some trick of the Machines? She screamed into nothingness. She was abruptly hit with everything at once, her sensors were still working in overdrive to find out where she was and what was happening as she was unceremoniously ripped from her shroud.

Commencing System Check
Memory Unit: Green
Initializing Tactics Log
Loading Geographic Data: Failed
Vitals: Green
Remaining MP: 30%
Black Box Temperature: Elevated
Black Box Internal Pressure: Normal
Activating IFF
Activating FCS
Initializing Pod Connection: Failed
Launching DBU Setup
Activating Inertia Control System
Activating Environmental Sensors
Equipment Authentication: Incomplete
Equipment Status: Red
All Systems: Error
Combat Preparations Complete…

Things started to stabilize, various gauges evening out. She slowly gets to her feet, her balance off and wobbly at first, the cool air brushed her synthetic skin alerting her to the fact that she was naked. Instinctively she reached for her sword, but nothing happened. It wasn’t there.

“Fuck.”

She glanced around and noticed that there was a scattering of doors through the dense fog. One in particular drew her towards it.

It was when the strange door entranced her she ran into another Restless.

ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕡 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕊𝕠𝕨
The hair on the back of her neck prickled when the Reaper appeared before her, blocking the door she was drawn to. Though she listened to what it was saying, its words defied all logic. Searching her databanks yielded nothing regarding this place and the being before her other than to call them fairy stories. Yet here she was. The reaper gestured towards a city covered in dark storm clouds on the horizon and then vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving her to approach the door with her name engraved.

Inside, she found the place to be a replica of one of the houses in Pascal’s village. It gave her both a sense of comfort and sent a pang to her black box. She saw the set of clothes, and put them on before she found small glowing statues- not holograms- of…the others. 2B, 9S, Pascal and the children, as well as her swords; things that were important to her. Though she was surprised that there weren’t statues of her original team. Perhaps it reflected just those she most recently cared about? She gently ran her hands over the statues, getting the feeling she needed to protect these things. There was also a portable monitor. She picked it up and started to scroll through it, trying to gather more information on this place. She was no Scanner; nor did she claim to be, but she did know a thing or two about gathering intel.

B.When she stepped back out into the twilight, A2 heard a scream, and her head snapped in the direction it came from. There she saw another Reaper dragging a fellow Restless by a chain clamped to a metal collar.

She clenched her hands into fists and she rushed the creature to save the poor Restless.

𝕆𝕗 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤
A2 was mostly minding her own business when the storm hit the ship. She was seated off to the side on a crate, her arms crossed over her chest when the boat started to toss. It unnerved her, since she was incapable of swimming, but she trusted her balance to keep her steady.

She didn’t have too much of a problem keeping her footing and did her best to help the Restless that did, but then she heard it and froze.

Why are you even bothering? You’re just a second-rate model. Let the real heroes take care of it.

C. The Shadow sounded like her, but more malicious. She tried to ignore its berating as she grabbed the arm of a Restless about to go skidding across the deck.

“Get below. Unless you want to die.” She paused, “Again.”

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔼𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪
Standing outside the gate, she’d never seen so many ‘people’ before. There were no black boxes detected, confusing her. She was lost in her thoughts as she walked the streets, finally happening upon the Notice Board. Missions. Something that is familiar. She’d fall back on that for the time being, since it was at least something she could understand.

D. When another Restless walked up to the board and started to examine it she turned to look at them, pointing to one of the missions.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I’m taking that job.” She said coolly to the other Restless, her voice held little to no inflection.

i.REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ This result is....unexpected.

She was supposed to be dead, done and dusted but finally granted her freedom. A cold comfort.

In the initial moments of her coming back online she panics. A sudden fear that things didn't work out, that the plan had failed and it was back to the grind of being Handsome Jack's unwilling pawn. It doesn't take her long to realize that's not the case, given her apparent welcome party. It should be scary, but it isn't.

What happens next has to be a sick joke. Beyond the door with her name is the Control Core- at least that's what she thinks it is, as she slams it shut after her first glance. But with no other options, after a (very long) moment of steadying herself she opens it again.

It's the Core, she'd recognize the place she spent the better part of 12 years anywhere, but it's not. A bed she knows but hasn't seen since she was 8 sits in its center, the walls are all wrong, it's smaller...she doesn't take in more than that. Instead she laser focuses on the Hyperion T-shirt (uhg) and pair of cotton pants folded on the bed, with what must be a communication device laying on top of them. She makes quick work of scooping the items up and leaving as quickly as she came, pulling on the clothing and immediately taking a seat on the ground, winded. She hasn't been this physically active since forever.

She pulls at the yellow shirt she's now wearing with it's logo emblazed across the front in stark white and frowns. ] ]

At least it isn't a jumpsuit.

iii. THE ETERNAL CITY

[ Death was meant to put an end to everything, give her a chance to finally rest. But there is not rest for the wicked, she supposes. Death had been the easy way out, and she didn't deserve that.

She'll do anything to avoid returning to her door, but that leaves her at an impasse. She hasn't been anywhere else in so long that she doesn't even know where to begin in the city of Staiga, overwhelmed by the sounds, light, proximity to other beings.

She doesn't register that it's happened, one moment she's standing, the next she's crouched, head tucked down and hands clutching at it's sides, a panic attack. Think Angel, -think-.]

[ Handsome Jack was wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about this: being dead sucked. And finding out about said death sucked too, naked and confused, his head throbbing (he assumes from the butt of the gun to his face that killed him.) It just sucks all around.

He burned through the first four stages of grief pretty quickly as he faced the reaper in front of him: No way can he be dead from a whack to the head, a thing that happened to him at least once a week! Not after everything else that nearly killed him. Please please please, can't he talk to someone to sort this out? He has plenty he can offer- a whole company someone can invest stocks in, or something! Who doesn't like investing? ....no? Followed by some "let me speak to the manager" style ranting before the depression stage set in.

Now he finds himself docking at an unknown shore, and as he's shuffled off with the rest of the ships passengers he turns to whoever's closest. ]

So we're heading straight to the nearest bar, right?

[ That'll help! ]

REBIRTH ALWAYS FOLLOWS DEATH

[ Jinx is almost smiling as she sets off the grenade and hears its soft, familiar clanking. Reliable little things. They never let her down, not like— not like—

Boom. Pink smoke and bright sparks rain down over the bridge, like firelights in the dark. She can't see Ekko anymore. Does that mean she won? Winning is supposed to feel fun.

She blinks and the bridge is gone. Everything is bright. She floats.

It feels nice. Peaceful. Not something that Jinx has ever aspired to, but perhaps she underestimated the perks of relaxation. She could stand to stay here for a while.

You don't belong here. Jinx can't tell if the voice belongs to Mylo or Clagger. It starts as a whisper and then grows louder, the same words layered on top of each other, again and again until they words lose all meaning and all she can hear is the din. You don't deserve—

She tries to scream at them to shut up but something thicker than water threatens to fill her lungs. This is when Jinx starts to panic, kicking and swinging her arms wildly against the confines of this thing containing her.

Suddenly, everything bursts around her. Gravity dumps her onto the wet ground, naked and trembling. She gasps for oxygen.

From the edges of her senses she can feel someone approaching. Jinx throws her hands up in an uncoordinated, wild gesture meant to deter. ] Stay back!

NOTICE BOARD

[ Apologies to anyone intending to read the notice board today: Jinx has taken over. She balances atop a rickety step-stool made from stacked plywood and other found materials. In one hand she holds a pink crayon, in the other a blue marker. Both tools are used to bring her masterpiece forth. Observers will see the notice board covered in messy sketches of menacing smiles and sharp teeth. A few words stand out: mercenary, creative, explosive engineer. That's right, it's half art project, half CV.

Interested party looking to hire? Or come to admire her work? Whatever the case, interrupt the artist at your own risk. ]

NETHERWORK

So who runs these streets, huh?

WILDCARD

[ Choose your own adventure. Happy to plot or discuss anything, can be reached by PM to this journal. This is very much a voice test so apologies for any shakiness! ]

reap what you sow

( it's not the first time marc's died and he doubts it'll be the last. the dread and the panic he'd felt in the cocoon he'd awoken in has all but dissipated, whilst — for the moment — everything else seems quiet. quieter than unusual, though there's a part of him, overwhelming against all else, that tells him to walk forward, into the fog and towards the doors.

he doesn't. not immediately.

his first thought is that the cloaked figure is a ghost, a spirit of some kind — again, it wouldn't be the first time — and any want he might have to fight is dampened by how weak he feels. unsteady on his feet, uncoordinated and — not exactly nonplussed, but it's not what he'd been expecting. this isn't the sort of fate khonshu would have left him to. has left him to, before.

in one of his more recent therapy sessions, his doctor had asked if he could die. marc had answered that he wasn't sure.
he's not so sure that this is an answer, regardless of what the cloaked figure in front of him says.

he files the explanation away for later — being reborn is old rote, cursed — okay, unfinished business? yeah, sure. none of it's new, but— )

—Khonshu? ( his voice sounds almost alien to his own ears, hoarse and croaking from disuse. there's no answer. no 'my son', no nothing. has khonshu forsaken him? or is it due to khonshu's imprisonment with the aesir? one seems more likely than the other, given marc knows khonshu could reach out to him any time he liked. he'll try again later. prayer. an appropriate message from a priest.

he walks, pointedly, in the direction that he knows, intrinsically and instinctively, his door to be. there are conversations, others like and unlike him, that talk of ascension and stairways to heaven, of purgatory and of shadows. none seem bothered with him, not yet, and for his part, he pays them little mind until he reaches his door.

inside, he finds his suit. it's startlingly white, a stark contrast with the dark hues of the netherworld, the loose, frayed edges of the clothing the reapers dress themselves in. as ever, that's the point. he wants to be seen.

pants. shirt. tie. waistcoat. jacket. mask. (face). shoes. gloves.

he dresses methodically before heading back out into the shadowlands. in one direction is stygia, the city the reaper had pointed out to him. he'll head there later, he thinks, attention otherwise drawn by the multiple moons above — crimson, rather than silver, and there's a part of marc that wonders, quite suddenly, just how real all of this is.

(just as real as anything else, probably.)

he walks in the opposite direction to stygia, towards the mausoleum. he stands in front of it, thoughtfully, considering, though — thanks to the mask — his expression is wholly, entirely hidden. there's no immediate means of entry, though it doesn't stop him from circling the structure, one gloved hand running along the brickwork.

it's interesting, okay?

eventually, when someone else approaches, someone that's not a reaper, he'll look towards them. again, there's little indication as to his expression, but he'll ask— )

Know anything about it? ( male, human-sounding. american, probably. new york and, perhaps, surprisingly polite and level given the blindingly white suit and the expressionless mask with the crescent moon embroidered on the forehead. )

netherwork

un — mk
Hello.

My name is Mr. Knight. At home, I ran a mission — the Midnight Mission — dedicated to protecting the travelers of the night. This isn't the first time I've died and been reborn, and though I can't offer any advice, if there's anything you require assistance with, ( like, at night, because marc tends to sleep the entire day away because he's a gigantic weirdo ) however weird or unusual, don't hesitate to reach out.

wildcard

( feel free to encounter marc anywhere and at any time in the shadowlands, be it naked or be-costumed. he'll definitely beat up some badaliscus et al if required (or, like, even if not).

otherwise, he'll be around in stygia mostly at ... night. i'm totes open to all sorts, feel free to hmu at spandex if u want to discuss anything! )

ooc — voicetesting! canon point is circa-mackay's run, and due to the nature of marc's canon/moonknight, i have a permissions post located here and an opt-out post located here.

Edited 2022-10-26 15:35 (UTC)

a. Of Souls and Shadows

[ He’s not losing anyone else.

It doesn’t matter they aren’t his crew. It doesn’t matter they might all be dead anyway. One shipwreck was enough.

Kaidan spreads his stance wide, hunkering down for stability as he pushes through the rain. Oh to have a space suit right now. ]

Get the rope. Tie yourself to something, loose enough to undo it if we have to. Anyone able and willing, with me. We’re pulling them out of the water.

[ He reaches the wheel. Hasn’t steered a boat in a long time, but he’s got the training. This ship is making it to port. ]

b. Notice Board - Hinterlands

[ Gathering materials from space crash sites in unfamiliar landscapes is kind of his thing. Not by choice, just happened a lot at work. And hey, never hurts to be resource rich and the guy people depend on.

There’s something peaceful to hiking the woods for a few hours. Okay sure there are some weird noises and the threat of violent castaways beyond where he can see, and maybe he’s missing his Alliance suit and HUD display, but hiking is great. Did a lot of hiking as a kid.

Was kind of hoping he didn’t have to get violent, though. But as the trees start looking charred, then thin, then disappear altogether, he can see into the lip of the crater and there are definitely small aliens in there and they are definitely guarding the target. ]

I don’t suppose you have any extra you want to trade?

[ Doesn’t hurt to ask. He makes sure his hands are out and open. He’s not packing anything, and his outfit is too thin to conceal. Just…not gonna mention the biotics if he doesn’t have to. ]

c. network - open post

Anyone got any good ebooks they wanna share? Space adventures wanted. Will also accept fan fic and nonfiction.

OOC: Will match prose or brackets! Hit me up on plurk if you want something else/want to discuss!

portolan

Seeking Shelter (Stygia)

[Tearing out of the cocoon on her own and finding her way to the city, Alicent was near ready to collapse. She had no need for healing or money, not at present. Those concerns were something she would worry about in the morning. A queen without assistance or champion? She wasn't likely to fare for long. Having stared a reaper in the face, endured the news of her death, it didn't seem there was much harm in waiting for the morning.

Even unaccustomed to survival inn the sense a warrior might need to, she understood shelter was important. There were several uninhabited buildings. Many were dilapidated and falling apart, but there was at least one with several windows intact. It was dusty and full of cobwebs, but it was warm enough to sleep in.

Winded, she leaned against the doorway, glancing behind her at Stygia.]

Hell or Purgatory? What comes next?

Netherwork

I know I should not have much hope, but is there a chance that you can find someone from home?

Wildcard

[Feel free to choose your own adventure. Give me a pm if you want to discuss ideas.]

i. reap what you sow.

[ Leave it to Tartaglia to get into a fight soon after being told that he died.

It wasn't with the Reaper who gave him the general gist of things. Nah. He was too busy trying to put two and two together, trying to make sense of the how's and why's, because someone like him &mdasth; the Eleventh Harbinger, Vanguard of the Tsaritsa — doesn't just suddenly die without even knowing how or why it happened. Maybe if you were lucky, you would have found him while he was still busy trying to process everything he just learned, staring at the spot where the Reaper just vanished into a plume of indigo smoke.

If you weren't lucky (hell, maybe you'd consider this lucky anyway), you'll catch him in the throes of battle. Another Reaper, one of the nastier ones, provoked him by snapping shackles around his neck. It seems to have triggered something bone-deep in him because the way he lashes out isn't normal — it's wild. Feral. What's more, he looks like he's enjoying it. Having the absolute time of his life beating the heck out of this poor soul who chose to pick a fight with someone who was practically a living weapon.

It's obvious from the start who the winner is. Even more so when Tartaglia realizes the Reaper doesn't like the water, because he has its head pushed down in the murky shores, as if trying to drown it. At least he'd managed to figure out where to find clothes before getting himself into this mess. No need to judge him for that at least, but...

When the Reaper is gone, that leaves him free to finally look around. His eyes land on you. ]

Before you say anything, it was that guy's fault.

[ Yeah. ]

ii. noticeboard

[ Enter: a (former) Fatui Harbinger looking intently at the noticeboard, and he's spending a considerable amount of time reading what's on the list. Hard to say whether or not he's even interested when there's no spark of delight in those dull ocean-hued eyes, but that all changes when he realizes someone's watching him. Namely you.

He turns to face you with a boyish grin. ]

Any one of them look interesting to you? We could team up and split the rewards evenly. I'm a good fisher, if that helps narrow it down.

[ He's good at a lot of other things too, but fishing is the one that reminds him of home the most. If he looks a tiny bit melancholic, that's definitely just your imagination. ]

iii. netherwork
un: toymaker

So.

Who's the strongest person around here?

iv. wildcard me, baby

( ooc. let me know if you need something specific from me! i'm happy to write custom starters. pls feel free to pm me. 💜 )

Reap what you sow; arrival

[ A new world? Death? All of this seems to amuse him to no end, and intrigue him as well. For that had meant someone was capable enough of killing him and he didn't even know it. What a farce, amusing as it was, what is not amusing is him reaching into his own doorway and pulling out all too familiar garb to which he scoffs but it's better than nothing. He's also looking at his right arm which is now been restored to him and he'll flex his fingers as he turns to look at his fellow Restless. Aside from the eyepatch, he'll be seen wandering the place with that prisoner's garb. Aizen doesn't look the least bit fazed though and if nothing else he seems to be more or less amused by it all. After all, he was finally free of his bindings and free to do whatever he wanted, what's not to enjoy about that? ]

Purgatory is it? It seems not much has changed then. [ What is he talking about?? He can be found looking back into one of those mirrors as he mutters it to himself, eyes strangely vacant as he speaks. ]

Netherwork;

Dying when one is immortal is rather amusing. [ What a bunch of bullshit but he's just vibing and going through the motions and giving 0 fucks right now. ] Though I am glad to be rid of that chair once and for all, sturdy as it was. [ Aizen?? Sir?? Please. ]

This 'soulmate' and 'shadow' business is intriguing, reply if you have anything of use to tell me of them or have heard anything about them in detail.

Notice Board - Serene;

[ Normally not one for sightseeing Aizen is actually wandering through the streets of Stygia without so much as a care in the world. He doesn't particularly seem to care much about anything he sees until the Notice Board catches his eye. In particular, the one in Serene is something he can probably handle alone, but he would like to get more of a feel of those around him so you'll likely end up doing most of the work. It's not that Aizen isn't capable but, you know, he likes to watch and scheme. ]

This request doesn't seem all that hard, honestly. But perhaps going together might be of some benefit.

[ Killing is his specialty dontcha know. ]

Wildcard;

(( ooc; If nothing tickles your fancy hit me up via plurk @

pathogenic to plot out a thing. ))

Edited 2022-10-27 03:29 (UTC)

[ voicetesting/generally getting situated! i haven't yet decided if i want to take him from the point of his canon death or earlier; i lean towards this happening during the war as opposed to later in the arc. warnings here. ]

I. THE KILLER AWOKE BEFORE DAWN
REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ After more than one thousand years, Jugram Haschwalth dies.

He had always expected blankness, the vast expanse of nonexistence when his soul returned to Yhwach's—not whatever this is. The fact of the matter is that he's still conscious, physically healed of the wounds that ended him, in a place where nothing living seems to grow. There are dead bodies here, rotting with their limbs bent at unnatural angles; lava periodically erupts from boils in the hard earth. Some sort of massive salamander roves around the place in small groups, and judging by the wide berth the people who seem more comfortable in their surroundings give them, they're probably aggressive or poison to the touch or both.

It's not a pleasant environment, but His Majesty was gracious in allowing him to remain alive after his death, after Jugram failed him so egregiously. (Such is the only possible explanation for this turn of events, as far as he is concerned.)

Option A—

His perception of spiritual pressure feels dulled, muffled, as though his soul is trying to listen with hands over its ears. It's an uneasy feeling, a sense of blindness that raises his guard all but immediately. It's quite possible for a character to catch him simply standing there as he orients himself: slight though he may be built, Jugram cuts a formidable figure at 6'3", with a thin, severe face and flaxen hair that ends several inches past his lumbar spine. It's easier to focus on pinpointing where all of the other souls are in relation to his own if he himself is not in motion, so here he stays for a few seconds, pale eyes narrowed and focused on an arbitrary point in the distance as if seeing something the others around him don't.

Option B—

It doesn't take the salamander things too long to find him. They seem to be attracted to any potential prey that moves, no matter how much larger than them or wider than their maws it may be, as is indicated by the way three of them charge in his direction, the putrid smell of their decaying flesh almost unbearable.

The smell is the worst part. The rest is of no concern to him, the grandmaster of His Majesty's Sternritter—he doesn't need to use anything other than the blade of his broadsword to strike against them, which is fortunate, given the seal that seams to be capping his powers. He hasn't lost the rudimentary ability to control footholds of reishi above the ground, however—they lunge at him a few times, more aggressively once the first has been decapitated, but he's able to leap back and into the air to avoid them. Probably quite a show to the human onlooker at the edge of his senses, but he's not concerned with that right now. ]

II. WIND SHAKES THE PALM TREES WITH AN ESCALATING FURY
NOTICE BOARD - OCT - SERENE

[ Hunting the beast that's been terrorizing the humans here shouldn't be overly difficult, even with his abilities dampened. The journey through the woods is eerily reminiscent of his early days, of hunting much smaller game in the forests of the Northern Kingdom—and then of training with Bazz, a thought which he brings to a halt as soon as he has it as a matter of old routine.

He's eventually able to track the thing by following the signature of the only source of reiatsu anywhere near him, at least at the time. He's a few strikes into the confrontation when a secondary source comes up behind him; for a split second, Jugram turns his head, still fighting the vertigo that seems to be the creature's main attack, and issues a simple command— ]

Leave.

III. WILDCARD

[ hit me baby! pretty open to whatever; it's safe to assume that jugram will be exploring and getting as much of a read on the place as he can. characters who can detect souls/spiritual energy/the like will be able to notice that this is someone who is very, very powerful. and ofc a blanket 'feel free to have them recognize his reiatsu' to castmates! if you'd like to plot smth out feel free to shoot me a pm at this journal. ]

Edited 2022-10-27 05:09 (UTC)

arrival

[ his death at least had meaning this time, unlike the previous --he didn't harm himself this time after destroying everything he'd ever held dear, but he gave his life to protect people who couldn't have managed that on their own, taking with him the monster that had been plaguing them. there's gentleness in it, even if the rebirth is uncomfortable. being naked is little problem, no shyness or embarrassment can bother him anymore, but the place seems dangerous and bare weak points aren't helpful --the call of his door is easy to follow and he finds clothes there. he ties his long hair up in a ponytail and dresses all in white, like he's used to these days, unwittingly bringing with him, his outfit and his demeanor the memory of his beloved teacher.

he can't help noticing there are black clothes as well and what used to be his emperor headgear from his previous life --cruelty still trickles from it and mo ran leaves his room with disgust heaving on his stomach. he has a feeling he will meet the darker side of him here once again. he's taken with him the black haifu though, given there are many more lost and naked people around.

he offers it to someone who seems particularly cold and uncomfortable, draping it on their shoulders before looking away not to add to their embarrassment --it could be too big, since he stands at 6 feet and 3 now, but it's something and kindness has become his second nature, even here. the sins he has to pay for are too many and too deep, he can never forget that. ]

Here, you can keep it.

netherwork

I'm looking for a man dressed all in white, long hair. He has probably been seen rescuing or helping out others, possibly coming out injured but not asking for help for himself. I can only offer heavy labour in return for the information.

If he's here, I'm the reason for it, so I must find him.

the eternal city

[ having spent most of his childhood and teenage in the streets and surviving with very few means, it is no problem for mo ran going through all the abandoned houses, until he finds one that looks like can still be salvaged. he wander around gathering pieces of whatever he can make use of and asks people for tools they have no need for anymore --his easy smile and some help with heavy labour do the trick.

his outer layer discarder and his sleeves rolled up, he starts working around spoiled planks, he gathers some nails and with those and the little dry wood he found, he starts fixing the windows, so that at least it won't rain inside --well, he doesn't know if it rains in this place, but keeping humidity outside is always for the best. he even climbs to the roof and starts fixing that too as well as possible.

but he accidentally bumps his foot against a plank that slides down, crashing onto the ground. he peeks at it from above and heaves a relieved sigh: it didn't crack. ]

Excuse me? [ he calls to the person who's walking by and he smiles bright and unrestrained, surely a weird sight in this kind of place. ] Would you mind doing me a favour and handing me the plank back?

other

[ i can work with whatever i'm sent or else feel free to pm me if you want to discuss something in particular! ]

i. REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ His head drops a little at being told that he has passed. He can only hope that he caused no undo amount of trauma or trouble to Lady Victoria or the Celestite in his passing. If he did – if he did –

Nails interlaced his fingers as he took a prayer pose. ]

Even in death, it seems like I am a sinner. [ He bows his head in apology for whatever trouble that he may have caused them. Yet even as he feels this frantic, this upset; his voice has a calm and melancholy sound twisting itself around each word.

His head lifts as he notes there is someone nearby. ]

They said this place may be considered Hell, but I would rather it not be for your sake. It would be unfortunate for one such as yourself to be tormented in the same space as one like me.

[ It is probably at this moment that one notices that his right wrist is bleeding profusely – actually, it is bleeding far more than it probably should! It pours out and coats both his clasped hands in red.

Stranger yet, perhaps, while his left eye is a solemn blue, his right eye is bright red with a pupil that is in the shape of a white-cross that dissects the eye into fourths.

… yes, there is quite a bit to take in with Nails. ]

ii. NETHERWORK

Is this what Lady Victoria meant? Death is change, not an end…

Yes, salvation may still be possible even for a sinner like myself.

Which means salvation is definitely possible for other cleaner people like you.

May the Truth bless you.

Edited 2022-10-28 14:56 (UTC)

REAP WHAT YOU SOW

[ This certainly is not where he expected to awake. He turns his hand over to take a look at it, and wonder what coward had killed him so peacefully. His expression darkens even more as he would hate to think it was one of his kin that would be so brazen and yet so craven.

Furthermore, he wonders why he is not in the Underworld. Questions upon questions, it seems like he will not get what he seeks from the reaper before him. Not as chatty as Thanatos, and seemingly sees no connection with him. A pity. I am sure I bring a lot of dead to your doors, too.

And so, he dresses and heads out to get to the bottom of what has happened. ]

I had so hoped to see Hypnos here to tell me how I died so that I might plot my response. But it would seem I have truly been spirited away to some other Underworld. [ He carries on by himself, as he looks about. ] Curious, curious, indeed. [ Ares has been trapped once before, but this certainly is an interesting way to be restrained. ]

NETHERWORK
UN: ARES.
My patience is starting to run rather thin now.

Good Uncle Hades, would you truly allow someone else to rule over the dead? I should hope not, because I have grown fond of sending thousands to a hell I know rather than a hell I don't.

But perhaps, I am the one in the wrong. If I have committed some offense, I am willing to bow my head in apology. I have that much patience left in me.

ARES.

Threaded | Flat

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QUESTIONS

dazai osamu | bungo stray dogs | voicetesting!

peter quill, marvel ( comics ).

jeong huiwon | omniscient reader's viewpoint