pedalbike | First TDM: Sterile Blues

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First TDM: Sterile Blues

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Arrival

Not all characters (known as Wickie, singular or Wickies, plural) arrive at the same time, surprisingly enough! That’s life for you. Some Wickies find their way to the island at a pivotal (or very mundane) point in their life, or even after or during their death.

Wickies who were standing or walking often find themselves entering the town South Sister, located on Lighthouse Isle, through an open doorway. Those that were laying down, or sleeping, tend to be found lying prone in beds, bathtubs, showers, couches, and similar places within the cottages on Cottage Row. There’s no rhyme or reason to it all! To Wickies familiar with the era, they will realize that everything looks as if it’s come from the ‘90s.

The house which a Wickie finds themselves within could already be occupied. This includes walking into a fellow Wicke, waking up in the same location, or accidentally scaring a room full of people with their sudden appearance.

Oops.

Sterile Blues

After arriving, Wickes will find that food and water are easy enough to come by, as they can be readily found in the various houses which populate Lighthouse Isle. Medical supplies, on the other hand, are not so easily acquired. Bandaids and other simple trappings can be pilfered from the odd medical cabinet, but otherwise you’re on your own.

Thankfully, if a Wickie or their friend are in need of medicine or a pair of trauma shears, while you won’t find a full-fledged hospital on the island, there is a clinic. The clinic, named Sister’s Helpers, is like the rest of the buildings in town. Its appearance is well kept, and the doors are unlocked. Whether the Wickie goes in through the windows (because they can), or through the front door like most would, they’ll find that the clinic’s interior is crisp, clean, and orderly. There are plastic chairs, a desk where a receptionist would sit, white walls, but then—

There’s a sound. It could be mistaken for a breeze, at first. But as the sound goes on, it becomes more obvious that the ‘breeze’ is an exhale, prolonged and forced. At the end, there’s a murmur, professional and assuring.

“That’s good. Breathe.”

And with that, the clinic becomes awash in shades of blue. Sister’s Helpers itself hasn’t become warped in any way. There is only monochromatic coloring which, upon further realization, is not truly in the building, but a problem with their vision. Leaving without investigating further will mean having blue vision for the next twenty-four hours.

But for Wickies who choose to stay and explore, there is a chance at clearing their vision. This is is especially difficult for those who have a history of not taking care of their injuries. Gradually, it becomes more difficult to walk, as if there are weights on their feet. For Wickies are especially guilty of not tending to their wounds, their movements will become even more sluggish, and weight will settle on their arms and chest, forcing the worst of offenders into a crawl as they explore from room to room.

Laying on the patient beds will alleviate the situation for a short amount of time. The cure, however, will come from characters taking the supplies which they need for themselves and not for others.

If the Wickie fails this, over the course of an hour they will be crushed to death, and will eventually wake up outside of the clinic. Their vision stuck in shades of red with a weakness in their limbs for the next twenty four hours.

The Wickie’s only cure for that is either taking medical supplies for themselves or by doing some form of self care.

Ashes, Ashes

It’s the middle of the night when all the Wickies are jarred awake from sleep by the blare of a broken siren. Wailing into the dark, the siren functions as a foghorn might, warning of hazardous conditions to come. Beneath Wickies feet, the ground trembles, pulsating once. Twice. Three times. And again, and again until—

The world changes, and it is no longer the foggy island the Wickies knew.

Ash falls steadily from above, blanketing the ground, and at first glance it can be mistaken for snow. Whether by scent, by touch, or even by taste (an option for the brave, the bold, the few), the truth of the ‘snowfall’ can be easily revealed. It is strange, though, that there are no signs of fire in the vicinity. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be much of anything at all. There’s still no sign of the mainland. There are no buildings in this desolate place, either.

Lighting in this new landscape is hazy and sullen, but still conducive to exploring despite it being the dead of night just moments ago. But while Wickies walk, there’s a growing feeling of foreboding. There’s something… something else with them.

And it conceals itself in the ash.

It attacks by lashing out to grab at the ankles and the calves, attempting to drag the unsuspecting victim down, to somewhere far deeper and hidden by billowing piles of ash. It’s easy to save a Wickie from the pull, so long as they’re quickly freed from their assailants grasp. Retrieving someone out of the ash itself is nigh impossible, though.

Grabbed Wickies who lived to tell the tale, may find themselves bitten. The stalkers in the ash sink their teeth into the foot or calf of their prey, leveraging the force of their bite to take down their target. And once there’s blood, more of these creatures will be attracted to the smell.

If a Wickie is clever or strong enough to draw the stalkers out of the ash, they will find that the attackers are shark-like people. Most of their head consists of oversized jaws housing an impossible amount of teeth, and lacking any eyes. Their bodies are covered in ashen chitin and bone, with elongated feet and thin, taloned fingers. These Ash Sharks do not like being exposed, and will respond accordingly.

Ash Sharks cannot be reasoned with. Trapping one in ropes, magic, or other means will elicit angry shrieks which will attract other Ash Sharks, either to eat the trapper, or trapped, or both if they can. Being dragged completely under the ash will start a feeding frenzy, and the Ash Shark will proceed to rip and tear chunks out of its prey.

In dying, Wickies will reset to a random location within the ash filled fields, completely intact but for a purpling bruise where the initial bite took place.

Good luck.

Network Time: The Heart Game

There’s a beeping alert on all Wickie’s smartphones that refuses to stop until a particular notification is read. The notification is for something called the Heart Game (which, yes, looks annoying, overly bright, and cheesy). And surprise! The game opens up automatically with a loud ping!

The game begins (and ends!) with a question, one which will not go away even if you try to close out of it or shut off your smartphone. It reads:

It’s time for everyone's favorite game! Confession! Heeeeere is today’s question which you must confess!

What is… the scariest thing you’ve experienced? It can be anything!

code bases by tricklet

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[Huh. She stared at him for a few moments, head tilted, thinking to remind him, maybe say something that might jog his memory but-

She decides against it, taking a slow sip of coffee instead. If she said something, it might cause confusion. And confusion might mean violence. She really wasn't in the mood for that.]

Oh, I'm not. But I'd rather not waste my energy throwing a tantrum. It might make me feel better, but I might end up shot for being a crazy person.

Have you ever been shot? It hurts.

I don't feel pain.

[He says it matter-of-factly, rummaging around the cupboards and drawers now. Not for food, but for anything useful. A knife could work for a basic weapon, if he needed it. Eventually he turns to face her again, a small pleasant smile on his face, and a huge carving knife in one hand. He may as well try to be friendly to his fellow captives.]

Do you think the probability of being shot here is high?

You don't? That could be a problem.

[She watches, not wanting to bother him in his search for...whatever he wanted. Though the problem came up when he held up the knife and smiled like that.

Just friendly, but some things needed correction. She pointed at the knife.]

There might be if you go around holding a knife and smiling all pleasant like. You'll look like someone that's come out of a horror movie, ready to ree ree on someone.

[He blinks and looks down at the knife. He's never watched a horror movie, nor does he have any reference for what it means to "ree ree" on someone.]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to look threatening.

[He tucks the knife away, and gives Sokie a look that plainly asks if that's better.]

I mean, you look about as threatening as a buttered muffin so...good move, putting the knife away.

[That's approval? Sounds like it, in a dry sort of way. At least the kitchen knife being put away made her put down her coffee, and offer her hand to shake.]

Anyhow- I'm Sokie. Sokie Undertown. What's your handle?

[Connor considers that a good thing. Who would expect the buttered muffin to be able to kick their ass if he needed to?]

My name is Connor.

[He shakes the hand, and now that he's not wielding a knife he offers up the smile again.]

Though I wish the circumstances were different, it's good to meet you.

[Ah, there it is. It's a little sad to play ignorant but...it's for the best. Really it is. Who would believe some stranger who said they met them, and that they turned into a mer creature for months on end?

No one, that's who.

She offers a quick hand shake before dropping his hand, letting her own drop to her side as she leaned against the counter top.]

Connor eh? Pleasure is yours and mine. Though...yeah, I gotta agree.

This isn't the best place to meet people, right? I don't know about you, but I ended up waking up in a bathtub after having...some sort of weird nightmare.

[Connor certainly wouldn't, because despite the situation he still is skeptical of the idea of magic. In any case, Connor just idly fiddles with his sleeve after letting go, his hands free of the scales he would have had when meeting Sokie.]

I was suddenly at a doorway when I arrived. It was strange, though... before that, I was in a city. It was so different from Detroit. It was peaceful, but I felt almost fearful standing there. I'm not sure why I saw it, but it seemed very real.

[He looks troubled, frowning a little to himself.]

[Oh, if he only knew. But her eyes linger on his hands- not seeing colorful scales as she would expect on his hands.

Maybe he was before that time...? There was a lot that she wasn't sure of.]

Wait- the city. You saw it?

[Gone was the weird speech and mannerisms. She straightened up where she stood, though her grip tightened on the counter.]

I thought it was...I don't know. Fake?

I was sure I was malfunctioning. But now that I think back on it, I assume it's connected to arriving here. Especially since you saw it too.

[He touches his chin thoughtfully.]

I wonder what that city has to do with this place... and the words that I heard. "Perfect, just like them."

[Just like who? The people in the city?]

I did...I just thought it was a nightmare.

The streets were really clean, right? I thought that was weird.

[At least, that's what she thought it was. But...Connor had a good question. Pity she didn't have an answer. Instead, she grimaced, and shook her head slightly.]

I've no idea. It's too vague. And perfection is...

[Sokie pushed her hair away from her face, grimacing.]

Does that mean anything to you? Perfection? Because it doesn't really mean anything to me.

Perfection... it doesn't mean much to me, either.

[He feels like the definition of perfection would vary from person to person, anyway.]

It could have implied that someone- or something- is going to try to forcibly change us, though. We should be careful.

[Maybe that's just the lingering sense of doom he got from that city talking, but it's better to be safe than sorry.]

[Way too specific. She clicked her tongue, irritated. Dead ends, it seems.]

Mm, right. Though I'm not sure how we could do that. Just about anything could happen.

Not to be pessimistic or anything but...we can't be on alert all the time. That's a lot of energy we'd be using.

[He frowns, folding his arms.]

We can't afford to relax here either, though.

[He still remembers how he felt in that city. It's left him uneasy.]

We don't know where we are or how we got here, and more importantly, we don't know how to leave.

Oh, this isn't a vacation boyo.

[It really isn't. That voice had been...unsettling. And she was rarely disturbed by much these days.]

But in order to achieve our goals, we need to information gather and pool together all of our resources. One person may not be able to gather much, but two can gather even more.

You understand what I'm saying, right?

If we work together, we'll be more efficient.

[And there will be more chance of actually finding out something useful.]

Did you come here with anything useful? I arrived with my pistol, but nothing else that could be considered helpful.

An informational alliance? Works for me.

[Connor can look for Connor things, Sokie can look for Sokie things. It's perfect.]

Well, I have my collapsible baton, and my magic seems to be working.

My original magic, which is something.

Original magic?

[Magic in general gets a tilt of the head from Connor.]

I've never met anyone who can use magic before...

[In other words, he's having trouble believing it.]

Oh, I'm not surprised. In my world at least, most people are discreet about it.

[She cocked her eyebrow. She sees you Connor...]

I can give you a small demonstration, if you'd like.

[He thinks about it, then nods.]

I'd like to see what you can do.

[Despite himself, there's a hint of anticipation in the way he looks at her, because even if there's never been any kind of proof that magic exists... wouldn't it be fascinating?]

All right. Since I don't want to damage anything...I'll do something small.

[And with that, she offers her coffee mug.]

First, taste this. You don't have to swallow- just verify that this is what you think it is, and it's not some slight of hand trick.

[...it's really just black coffee.]

[Connor dips a finger into the coffee and tastes it, and immediately recoils. Yes, he can taste blood and filthy sink water, but coffee is apparently something he doesn't like.]

...Yes, it's just coffee.

[He promptly runs the cleaning process in his mouth to get rid of the taste.]

[His reaction made her laugh. Not for long, but it did. Poor Connor.]

Black coffee. Forgot to mention that.

Now, what kind of things would you rather taste? Something sweeter, more savory...?

...I'm not sure.

[Look, nobody has ever asked him to analyse the taste of something before, in terms of how sweet or bitter it is.]

What do sweet things taste like? Can you show me?

[He gestures with the mug. That seems like a good place to start.]

Oh, certainly. Let's start with something simple, not too sugary.

[She makes a motion, swirls her mug, and offers it. The liquid turned from brown to orange. It's orange juice, but she's not going to tell him that. That'd be leading him along.]

Here. You don't have to stick your finger in. You can...just stick your tongue in, if you don't want to swallow.

[This is going to be a disaster isn't it.]

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