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pedalbike2020-08-29 10:30 am
upcyclingmod) wrote in pedalbike2020-08-29 10:30 am
Entry tags:
First TDM: Sterile Blues
Welcome to the Test Drive Meme.
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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.
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.
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.
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!
The Blues
[This wasn't what she expected to find. Ghosts? Sure. People looking for medical supplies? Okay.
Having a gun aimed at her? Not so much. Seeing one had her eyes go wide, and go pale. She wasn't used to physical violence, not like this.
Why in the world would anyone wear full armor anyway??? In this place??? Where as she, instead of armor or anything remotely intimidating...she had a camera instead.]
Should I...put my camera down?
no subject
Do what you must.
[ he's not really in a position to stop her. he grunts and turns back to lying on his back, gun still gripped in his hand. ]
no subject
[Well. This is better then she expected; no handcuffs, no being shot, nothing like that. But the fact that he (was it a he? She assumed so, due to his armor), gave up so quickly was alarming too.
Instead of putting her camera down, she took a step forward. Two. And careful to keep her hands up, showing she wasn't armed.
Well, other then the camera, but it was delicate. That wasn't going to be used for head bashing for certain.]
Are you hurt?
[She didn't seem to be as affected. Her slow steps were more out of caution, rather then being pressed towards the ground.]
no subject
[ there's a strange crushing feeling coming down on him and he doesn't really know what's coming over him, but he can tough it out for a little while. he turns his head a little, seeing her caution, and sighs. ]
You can put your arms down.
[ he must have scared her, and certainly feels bad about it. what can he say though? you can never be too careful. ]
no subject
[She feels a little foolish but-well-she didn't want to spook him into firing. Her hands slowly dropped, leaving it so her camera was cradled in her hands. It's obvious that it has some value to her, from the way she cradles it alone.
And while she was spooked, she pushed past it. Just like she was pushing past the pressure she could feel, increasing as more time passed.]
Thanks. For not shooting me.
[Her smile was quick, fleeting, as her eyes traveled over him. Puzzled still, by his armor. She had never seen anything quite like it before.]
Is there...anything I can do to help? Maybe...someone I can call?
I'd lock the door for privacy, but...
[Her voice trails off, awkward. Maybe she should do the quick of a search she could, before she left. She could feel something pressing uncomfortably against her head now.]
no subject
[ but just as he's getting his words out, a soft thunk can be heard from further inside the room. din turns his body toward it, though he already knows the cause.
toward the back is an open storage shelf, long and vertical, full of different types of supplies. there isn't a ton of things, but at least ever level of shelving has something on it to take. what hit the ground is a plastic container, probably full of various bandages and ointments. what caused it to fall... is a little green child with large ears sticking out, as it tried to climb to the second shelf level off the ground and failed.
it isn't distressed by its failure, but it is looking at both din and the girl from its spot on the floor. ]
... [ he turns his head to her. ] Don't photograph it. Please.
no subject
So she carefully (slowly) stepped around to peer at what it was and...gaped. Not what she expected. Her mouth opened, surprised, but it vanished at the request with a knee jerk of:]
Wasn't going to.
[Instead she carefully placed her camera down on the counter, not taking her eyes off the little green child. This was bizarre.]
Who is this?
[She was pretty sure she'd seen cats bigger then this tiny green child.]
no subject
[ an intentionally vague answer, but makes clear the only thing that matters - the child is his.
said child tilts his head up as she comes a little closer, and slowly picks itself up. only a little more than a foot in height, displaying none of the caution the armored man does, it waddles toward her full of curiosity.
the mandalorian takes this moment to suck in a breath and actually try to get himself up off the bed, ignoring how the crush against his body starts seeping back in as soon as he does. he succeeds in at least standing, but has to set a hand against the nearby wall to regain balance. ]
no subject
[Goodness, what a tiny little baby...
Slowly, she knelt down (uncertain if she could pick herself up after this; she could feel the pressure start to push down on her legs), and offered her hand. She could hear the man start to move and slide off of the bed, but she didn't turn around.
She didn't want to spook The Child. Basically, she was thinking of following the rule of strange cats: don't move too fast or too slow and let them make the first move.]
I'm not going to hurt them.
[That was directed at the Manadalorian, but the Child could assume it meant the other way around.]
no subject
the mandalorian watches, a little cautious but taking the moment for what it is. he's seen the child more at ease around younger humans before. there are a lot of unknowns, but he just steps past them and to the shelf so he can grab the plastic container that dropped. ]
What are you looking for?
no subject
They're adorable.]
Mm?
[Oh right. She blinks once, twice, before glancing up at the Mandalorian.]
Oh, sorry. I was looking for something for bruises- a heat patch or balm.
I know I should look in other places but-I thought I'd search here first.
no subject
No idea how old it is.
[ the child, all the while, is just happy for attention. ]