TDM // #1

[oblivium]

TEST DRIVING MEME #1

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
► six bones arranged in a hexagon on the ground. they appear to have been gnawed upon and bear teeth marks
► 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, you're out of luck. Hale is currently off-limits -- a collapse, apparently -- but poultices can be found in the Marketplace, 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 very first 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!
► 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!

Comments

Noctis Lucis Caelum | FFXV

[fessus]

The Eternal City

[ The stars above shimmer with a beauty that reminds him of Lucis even if the twin moons color that perception into something far darker, and Noctis is struggling to contain his frustration. He's angry that he's here. He's angry that his clothes itch from the lashings of seawater and the shards of glass, and no doubt bone, that had been mixed into the mire. He's angry that he hasn't eaten for a stretch of time he has yet to sit down and try to ascertain.

And he's angry now, especially now, that he's had to spend any part of his hard-earned money on a cage in which bustle no fewer than six rabbits.

Startlingly blue eyes continuously flick to them from where he's seated against a dilapidated fishery near the docks of Stygia, half-hidden in the alleyway between shops but lit by the street lamp that shines through its mouth. They're chittering, so they're probably hungry. How would he know? He's so, so tired... and he only looks up when a shadow passes by, someone worth addressing on the main street. ]

Before you say anything, I get it... I know how it looks. But unless you've got something helpful to say or you want to buy one or something, or at least give it a good home, I'm not interested.

Text - I

Does anyone know anything about taking care of rodents? I've got some rabits (sp?) that seem pretty harmless but idk if they're pet tier or food tier.

Text - II

If someone wanted to get a bath but didn't want to stay with a stranger to get that done, does anyone know of a spot? Idk if there's like rentable stuff here or smth communal without getting a whole room. As long as there's a wall between me and the next guy.

Didn't seem like my door in the Shadowlands had anything in it that had working plumbing but I didn't check. Anyone else have luck?

Text - III

1. Can you clean clothes with bar soap?

2. Is there an average temp on an oven for cooking something? If you just wanted to heat something up, or can you just go full heat.

text - iii, un: jonas.

[coherer]

Do you seriously have access to soap and an oven rn?

If I give detailed enough answers to basic chore questions can I borrow one or both? lol

un: henruit, don't @ me

[fessus]

Why are you acting so surprised, you just meet someone and they're already doubting you lmao

[ Does the pin drop that his username is Jonas? No. Should it? Yes. Will it? God we hope so. ]

Anyway w/e, you can use the oven. Prove you know what you're talking about first

you haven't even read henruit bro

[coherer]

umm I'm acting surprised bc I do not have access to soap and an oven rn.

(this is all on you, man.)

ig you could be like a restless who's been here since before the invention of laundry and ovens, but if yk what they are then the rest is p straightforward. h/o I'm not usually the one who knows things. I need a sec to prepare.

(inhales, exhales.)

1/2

[fessus]

2/2

[fessus]

Are you actually asking me if I'm too old to know what soap is

If you're gonna troll then try harder than that, also you're an asshole for doing that right now. If it's straightforward then say it, otherwise don't jerk me around. I just wanna eat smth

[ spiralling ]

I, un: reliant

[blyat]

[you don't know how hard it was not to tag the bath prompt]

uh
are you serious
do you even know how to cook a rabit

[Cain's just copying. That's the correct spelling now.]

un: henruit

[fessus]

[ We have all of our afterlives to get to a bath prompt. ]

What about what I sent out makes you think I know how to cook a rabit

[ Watch me own my flaws. ]

[blyat]

you said food
what, are you gonna eat it raw

text - i; un: keith

[spaceassassin]

[ local feral boy here. living out a year in a desert shack expanded his diet to rattlers, coyote, kangaroo rats…
and rabbits. specifically jackrabbits. ]

depends on the type of rabbit

[ it doesn’t, actually. but. ]

send a picture?

I am so happy to see Keith here

[fessus]

Is this where I find out some are venomous or smth? Lead with that if that's what's up lol

[ Within a minute a picture follows, one of a single Teddy Dwarf rabbit with its siblings out of focus in the background. Of note is the disconcerting red glow to its eyes. ]

listen. i'm just as happy to see noctis. prepare to be harassed.

[spaceassassin]

[ listen. venomous isn’t outside the realm of possibility. infinite universes, realities, yada yada. this is another plane of existence, too. keith is mulling this over, thumbs tapping against the sides of his device, only to pause when the picture loads.

huh.

cute with a dash of demonic.

interesting. ]

hard to tell how much meat is on it with all that hair
might be worth the time to skin and clean it

text ii un: gongaganh

[heroproceeding]

there's always the abandoned houses around the outskirts of the city. i mean they're all fixer uppers but with a little bit of work you might even have a place of your own too.

uh. just don't try the house with the sunken in roof. OR the yellow door. the one that fell inside the house. believe me. you DON'T wanna go in those ones.

[fessus]

The abandoned spots have water? Kinda weird tbh

Is this reverse psychology or smth? If you're gonna say smth like that you should have some reasoning to go along with it or it's just gonna make people want to check it out.

[ Yeah maybe if they're reckless weirdos. ]

[heroproceeding]

[ Zack's just gonna take a minute to stare at that message. Oh, right. He should probably respond. ]

reverse what now? no? i just don't think anyone wants to live with a buncha dead rats. can't say i would anyway.

but yeah they got water. i haven't exactly checked if they got leaks or something though. cut me some slack! i just got here.

text. ii | @shiro

[constellational]

I came across a few hot springs in Serene, if that helps. Seems like the safest place around here so far.

un: henruit

[fessus]

Hot springs like open air hot springs? Public ones?

Not like it matters or w/e..... Yk

[ I'm not critically shy. ]

[constellational]

Ahh, can't say I've come across any private ones, sorry. They're most likely heated by a subterranean volcano. Have you ever heard of or seen an onsen? They looked pretty similar.

Text - I

[nastycat]

rats and mice taste bad

[Oh wait. Texted before she'd read the whole thing.]

rabit stew good
make sure there dead so they cant kill you they got my


teammates

[Dungeon rabbits man... And she'd not been about to say 'her friends' there, no siree.]

1/2

[fessus]

Cool I was just about to ask what random animals you think taste bad

Anyway

2/2

[fessus]

[ ... ]

Are you 100% sure we're talking about the same thing? The same rabits?

They don't look all that threatening, but I'm sorry to hear about your team

[nastycat]

you said rodents
i eaten them

dont know i havent seen them
the ones back in the dungon have knife feet

the eternal city

[abandonme]

Are you trying to scam girls, sir?

[ The stars above are so beautiful by the warf, Rachel didn't notice Noctis stomping around with his rabbit cage till they were nearly on top of eachother. Rachel sits by the side of the dock, swinging her legs in a way that would put to rest any ideas she had about continuing the lie she can't use her legs.

She's in a good mood, so Noct's defensiveness only makes her giggle. ]

Stealing a pretty girls money is a crime that makes the whole world end! Hehe...but you're rabbits are pretty cute, so I think you might get away with it.

[fessus]

[ There's only so much sitting around, coping with hunger, and deliberating over the fate of a group of rabbits that one man can take, and thus it's him heading back to his cheap, rented room that she sees. The question, however? Has him moving that cage half behind himself, as if protecting the cute bunnies from an accusation levied at him. This is far too much right now. ]

Stealing?

[ He casts a weary look around himself, even raising his shoulders in a somewhat helpless shrug. ]

I offered something for something else, or even said I'd be willing to give them away for free. What's "stealing" in your book?

[abandonme]

Scams are stealing!

[ She waves a finger reproachfully, but the warm smile remains. Maybe she's not entirely serious, its a bit hard to tell. ]

And scams are giving people things that aren't what they seem. If you're so desperate to get rid of them, they could be cursed, heh. A mysterious stranger with hands full of animals he wants to give away sounds like a fairy tale.

[ Rachel claps her hands. ] Oh! Maybe you'll try and get me to sell them for you...that's a scam that's called a "pyramid", I think?

[ ... ]

The stars are pretty tonight, aren't they?