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redmarsshit2019-09-21 12:52 am
modblob) wrote in redmarsshit2019-09-21 12:52 am
redshift: tdm #4
Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.
▶ Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.
▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.
▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.
a. the red shit.
There are rumblings in the deepest, most overgrown part of the agricultural area, where until very recently there was a lingering pocket of red algae. The good news is, the red algae is gone! The bad news is, it all got eaten by a mutated bear-thing with giant antlers. The algae did a number on the poor thing, doping it up and confusing it to the point where everything is an enemy.
What’s worse? The algae has adapted, colonizing the creature’s entire body. The algae has mutated in the process, releasing a protective cloud of toxins that causes severe hallucinations, as well as some of the protective and euphoric qualities that the red algae originally possessed. Which means the mutated, antlered, bear-thing is accompanied by a small army of other creatures, from large to small, who are all very invested in its survival and also are being driven crazy by its presence.
Prepare yourselves for one hell of a hunt. These animals can pop up almost everywhere in the agricultural zones, and when they do show their paws it’s to go on a rampage.
What’s worse? The algae has adapted, colonizing the creature’s entire body. The algae has mutated in the process, releasing a protective cloud of toxins that causes severe hallucinations, as well as some of the protective and euphoric qualities that the red algae originally possessed. Which means the mutated, antlered, bear-thing is accompanied by a small army of other creatures, from large to small, who are all very invested in its survival and also are being driven crazy by its presence.
Prepare yourselves for one hell of a hunt. These animals can pop up almost everywhere in the agricultural zones, and when they do show their paws it’s to go on a rampage.
b. fashionista.
It wouldn’t be Anchor if the bots weren’t fucking shit up.
This time, the spa bots have gone full stylist coach, chasing down residents and trying to do their hair, nails, makeup, or change their clothes. In some cases, they're literally sweeping people off their feet and carrying them to the hot springs, massage rooms, and spa areas to be pampered. Too bad most of their cosmetics are fifty years out of date and the closests they’ve raided either had another resident’s clothes or moth-eaten dust-covered rags.
Is that the jacket Idris Elba was wearing in the introductory video? It kinda looks like it.
But it’s not all bad! The bots actually give great massages and fantastic mani-pedis. They also have a small stash of fresh cosmetics and clean clothes that got left behind in the spas. They might not fit great, but they look pretty good!
If your character doesn’t practice proper self-care, well. They’d better watch out. These bots have a particular eye for the sad, the filthy, the tired, and they’re going to make sure you get some damn fine pampering.
This time, the spa bots have gone full stylist coach, chasing down residents and trying to do their hair, nails, makeup, or change their clothes. In some cases, they're literally sweeping people off their feet and carrying them to the hot springs, massage rooms, and spa areas to be pampered. Too bad most of their cosmetics are fifty years out of date and the closests they’ve raided either had another resident’s clothes or moth-eaten dust-covered rags.
Is that the jacket Idris Elba was wearing in the introductory video? It kinda looks like it.
But it’s not all bad! The bots actually give great massages and fantastic mani-pedis. They also have a small stash of fresh cosmetics and clean clothes that got left behind in the spas. They might not fit great, but they look pretty good!
If your character doesn’t practice proper self-care, well. They’d better watch out. These bots have a particular eye for the sad, the filthy, the tired, and they’re going to make sure you get some damn fine pampering.
c. whole foods: 2.0.
Remember that whole Whole Foods grocery store thing that happened? Well, the grocery store and the zombies are still there. Only now there are more zombies, and two giant supply trucks have shown up, one behind and one in front of the store.
The one at the rear of the store can be accessed fairly easily. It’s painted to look like a giant United States flag, with a dramatic crying eagle emblazoned across the back doors. Inside, there is beer. Lots and lots of beer, and a bunch of semiautomatic rifles. Also some skeletons. Seems like the guns and booze didn’t help them.
The one in front of the store is thickly surrounded, the creatures clawing at the plain white sides of the semi like there’s something precious inside.
If Anchorites can make it through, if they can fend off the monsters and keep from getting torn to pieces by a hoard of bloodthirsty beasts, they’ll find out what that precious truck contains.
It’s twinkies. A semi full of twinkies. We hope you’ve got a sweet tooth, Anchor.
The one at the rear of the store can be accessed fairly easily. It’s painted to look like a giant United States flag, with a dramatic crying eagle emblazoned across the back doors. Inside, there is beer. Lots and lots of beer, and a bunch of semiautomatic rifles. Also some skeletons. Seems like the guns and booze didn’t help them.
The one in front of the store is thickly surrounded, the creatures clawing at the plain white sides of the semi like there’s something precious inside.
If Anchorites can make it through, if they can fend off the monsters and keep from getting torn to pieces by a hoard of bloodthirsty beasts, they’ll find out what that precious truck contains.
It’s twinkies. A semi full of twinkies. We hope you’ve got a sweet tooth, Anchor.
cw: more of that
Carlisle's embittered remorse about his circumstances brings rise to his Revenant nature, but as he brings his eyes to meet Qubit's to retort, he sees determination in the other man's gaze, a strength he wasn't aware he had. It gives Carlisle pause -- and maybe even shame he wasn't sure he could feel anymore -- as it quells the ire stirring within him. He feels plenty of shame about a myriad of things, sure, but not about the fact that had he died earlier, things might have been better. The twice-cursed are said to be harbingers of malady and misfortune, and that is certainly what he's experienced time and time again. The thought that his life might just be a series of tragic coincidences isn't encouraging, either.
It isn't a sin to exist. It's hard to believe Poison's words when the world and culture he comes from have so ingrained into him the superstition and paranoia regarding his condition that they inform his nearly every decision. Carlisle used to worry he made things worse by merely existing when he shouldn't -- now he is utterly terrified he will do the same by not. That dread is all that stayed his hand for so long -- that, and the vain hope he might be able to appeal to his goddess enough that she would somehow cleanse him of his affliction. Perhaps that was never possible, but it gave him purpose all the same. That direction in his life kept him moving, working to be anything other than the failure of the Longinmouth line. His devotion and success as a healer are arguably the only accomplishments he has to his name.
And look where it got him. His home is in ruins, the people he knew and cared for now monstrous shades of their former selves, and he's trapped in another world and poised to do the same again, should he ever lose hold over himself. He went from the failure of the Longinmouth line to the bane of it, and the thought that he may one day become the Blight Heir again, what last vestiges of humanity he has slipping away for reasons beyond his control, is his latest, most overwhelming anxiety.
Nothing he did before made his ultimate fate any better. Why would that change now? Why should he bother trying? Why should he not just walk into the endless wasteland all around them to spare the people of Anchor the potential hazard that is his very being?
He was alone before, isolated, sequestered away because he so believed it was the right thing to do for those around him, for his lineage -- for everyone but himself. He is not alone now. Despite all odds, he has people who are willing to help him -- Poison, Pratt, Qubit. People from other worlds and times with access to resources and knowledge he cannot even fathom. They may be able to help him; he needs only accept what help is offered.
He cannot even begin to understand what a modified psionic resonator is, but the way Qubit rambled about the possible methods of dealing with his uncontrolled abilities does speak volumes of how strongly he feels about this, about finding another way -- about helping him when Carlisle has possibly put him in more danger than not in the two times they've been out here. That means something to the clergyman.]
How it is you can sound so confident about that, I will never know, but I appreciate your fervor all the same. That, and the fact you did not leave me out here last time when you knew what I was, and what danger I presented to you.
no subject
Still, he's determined to make it work. And it's not the first time someone's mistaken determination for confidence. Qubit has plenty of experience acting more confident than he feels - it's kind of his default state of being at this point.
A flicker of surprise crosses his face at the suggestion that he could have abandoned Carlisle out here. Certainly it was an option, and it wouldn't have been totally unreasonable, but... he shakes his head. ]
... It never crossed my mind.
[ And that's the unvarnished truth. Even Qubit himself seems a little taken aback. Not just that Carlisle would think him capable of it (he probably is, let's be real), but that it honestly never occurred to him as an option. Perhaps it's just not in his nature to give up on people so quickly. Or at all. Is that a good thing or not? He remembers Modeus taunting him about it, even while using it against him - "So you're jeopardizing the entire world in order to prioritize the life of one person. Again. I expect no less of you. It's part of your charm."
Did he do the right thing then? Is he doing the right thing now?
He can't let himself ask that question, though. Because he already knows the answer.
Instead he smiles, playing it off. ]
Glad my proclivity for reckless self-endangerment is good for something.
no subject
[That's not what Qubit meant, but given the number of times Carlisle has addressed undeads as its and things, he does his best to avoid the same kind of dehumanization for himself. It helps him distance himself from what he truly is, if only mentally.
Despite Qubit's seemingly good nature about having his life risked for nothing, Carlisle cannot help but apologize more. He owes the man some explanations, even if he doesn't know all the answers himself. He looks back toward the hole the shamblers are digging in the distance -- it is quite deep now.]
I apologize for not telling you sooner. I have been struggling to accept it myself -- even more so when my abilities are not what they ought to be. Commanding the undead, even passively, is... new. As is raising them.
no subject
[ What with the whole Becoming An Unholy Abomination Before Goddess And Man, and all that. That's never gonna be easy to adjust to. He notices the detail Carlisle leaves out, though. ]
And commanding the living...? [ That's not new, is it? ]
no subject
I assumed myself rendered incapable of it. I had hoped I was. My affliction granted me that accursed gift, and it seems not even death could free me of it.
no subject
Being "twice-cursed," you mean.
[ They never did get into what that meant, did they? Is the power one of the curses?
Also, it occurs to Qubit suddenly that ... he doesn't know how Carlisle died. Did he already take his own life once, and his current state was the result? It's a chilling thought, but not one he's going to voice. Not right now. He isn't sure he wants to know. ]
no subject
It is a rare affliction in my world where one is said to be cursed twice: once for dying, and again for bothering our gods by inconveniencing them. They all have... abilities. Gifts they awaken with. These abilities are not widely recorded, as the twice-cursed are not socially accepted in any way. I used to believe myself slighted, cheated out of living. I did not ask to be damned. I did not- I didn't ask to bring down my entire lineage.
[He sucks in a breath, biting down his emotion before it escapes him in full, but his tone betrays him: there is bitterness there, anger. Resentment at his circumstances and a struggle to accept them, despite how he may try.
And he is trying, but every time he thinks things can't get worse, they do.]
Apparently, there is more meaning to the name of the affliction than I realized. They are cursed in life, and in death, they— we rise as Revenants. And... I have realized just now, earlier, that my unique set of abilities are what truly made me an abomination.
no subject
... Okay, no, lots of gods, come to think of it. That part tracks.
So now Carlisle's a "Revenant," whatever that means. He can hear the capital "R". The fact that they already have a term for it, though, means he's not the first of his kind. ]
What is a Revenant? Had you encountered them before, in - your work? [ He almost said "in life," but maybe that's not the best phrasing. ]
no subject
They are rare, an anomaly even among the undead. I see now why that is, if only twice-cursed become them.
[He picks again at that wrinkle in his sleeve, trying to bury his nerves; his discomfort is evident.]
Unlike most aberrations, they retain some semblance of who they were in life. A Revenant born of a warrior will remember how to wield his weapon; a Revenant created from an evocationist will still command magic, despite that undeads are usually incapable of such feats. They are creatures of pure malice, recalling just enough of who they used to be to imprison them in bitter torment. They resent their failings, and those who lived when they were not allowed to.
[Spoken like someone who knows good and well what all that feels like on a personal level.]
no subject
... But you're different. You remember yourself fully, and you don't strike me as a "creature of pure malice."
[ It's a question in the form of a statement. Why? ]
no subject
He wrings his fingers, his eyes hardening on them as he pushes his voice from its hiding place in the back of his throat.]
I am not one anymore.
no subject
He's finally starting to understand the full scope of the problem. The last time they were out here, Carlisle unknowingly commanded a dozen corpses to attack him - and that was just a moment's anger. Now imagine him consumed by it. Filled with resentment and malice over the life he endured, unable to find peace even in death, lashing out indiscriminately at anyone unfortunate enough to get too close. The living and the dead alike, falling under his thrall. And if anyone had the strength to resist... Qubit's eyes fall to the half-zombie nearby, its entrails spilled out on the blasted sands. Even if one somehow resisted his control, how long could they hold off a horde of their undead neighbors?
It turns his stomach. He doesn't know what to say. ]
Carlisle...
no subject
I thought I fell asleep. It felt so long, and simultaneously as though I'd only just nodded off in my exhaustion, like an unintended nap. Yet, when I awoke, everything had changed. I had changed.
[His hands curl in on themselves, the glow of his eyes brighter in his agitation.]
My family long ago swore themselves to protect Bear Den. I thought they would be in good hands when I passed. As the last of our bloodline, I willed the town everything we had. I could hardly sleep in those final days, but I rested well then, thinking the people would thrive long after us. What followed -- it felt like... dreamlike, unreal. Vague images I could barely recall. Feelings that couldn't have been mine. Faces I should have been able to recognize, but were suddenly foreign to me, their features twisted in agony.
[Across his face is a mixture of shame and disgust, all of it aimed internally. There is bitterness too, the kind of volatile resentment he attributed to Revenants just moments before -- it identifies him now, is as much a part of him as his lineage. He feels it wearing into him, and turns away from Qubit to spare himself some embarrassment. His words come out harsher through his gritted teeth.]
I awakened as myself, yet remained in a nightmare. I am a contradiction, the antithesis of all I ever was and all my family stood against. I wanted so desperately to be anything but the failure of my bloodline, and I became the scourge of it. Everyone I had ever known, everyone I looked to and who looked to me for help, people I had known my entire life—
[Something in his throat gives him pause; he swallows it down, and pushes a breath through him, in and out.]
I realized only just now, out here with you, what happened to all of them. How they ended up the way they were. How they died, and how they reanimated. What I did to them.