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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!
no subject
"When you get down to it, Earth is... confusing." He'll spare her the gory details of the myriad wars and the sadness that comes with them, let alone most anything else. It's not a topic for the here and now, not when they have bigger questions to answer.
Which is a fact that really should bring him back to wondering how she's dealing with this... but he's actually still caught in the veil of her gentle comfort, bonding without so much as thinking twice. It's probably better for that, because he's got a bad habit of withdrawing when he thinks he's getting too close to someone. And in this situation? Any closeness is probably too close.
"..." He inhales softly after a time, head shaking. "I can't see what would drive someone to harm such gentle creatures." He's never understood what drives someone to that place. Probably never will.
no subject
"Earth? Is that the name of your world?" She coos and can pick up that he was hiding things from her. Perhaps at a later time they can talk about it.
A hand timidly goes to pet his hair in a comforting manner as she coos. How she dealt with it? She had no choice but to, to try to live up to the expectations of the dead. Her life doesn't belong to her, it belonged to the dead in her mind. This bond, she was starved to have a bond like this again.
She was content in the gentle silence, freed from the beeping. At his words, she gained a sadden look on her face. "I... I do not know... I want to know. Want to know why myself? What have we done to deserve such a gorey execution."
no subject
"... If Beorcs are anything like humans, you needn't have done anything." He's allowed the touches without the slightest balk, wondering at her noises - acknowledging that perhaps her nature as a Heron has something to do with it. That... isn't so bad, either way. "Some humans will find any reason to cause pain, and it doesn't matter at all what they cause pain to."
That's not a comforting thought, and he knows it. It's why he and his ilk are so necessary, or so he's been told... at least, those who are better at controlling themselves are assuredly necessary. "That's why we have those of us who are... awakened to abilities, to protect others. Sometimes, that too can be dangerous, but those of us with these abilities usually aren't intentionally violent." He pauses as he speaks there as well, simply unsure which words to use in that case.
no subject
Her hair petting slowly losses it's timidness as he doesn't show any distress or any other signs that the touches were not welcomed. She lets out a slow sigh as he goes to speak again and no... That wasn't a comforting thought. It sadden her to think that her people were killed like that on a whim. That so many had the same whim. Before she could stop it, a few tears slipped and fell from her eyes.
"Beorcs... Beorcs is our respectful term for humans." She nearly whispers as he goes to speak again. "And you are one of those that have awaken powers." It was obvious from how he talked but also how protective he was of her so quickly. She goes to let out a sigh and shakes her head. "Those that have a strong protective nature... Also seems to have a violent streak in them."
no subject
Her reaction prompts a shift of his brows, and they furrow slightly before reaching up, to wipe them away. It's another markedly gentle gesture, and he nods in understanding. Then it's just a terminology difference.
Ah, but... "... It's a lot more complex than that." His head shakes, hand waving. "Not all of us, as protectors, are violent. Most of us are able to fight, but... not all of us are predisposed toward it. Someone who is Awakened is simply awakened to their innate spiritual power. Healers and fighters are the most common types of protectors, but... it's complicated." Humans were... complicated. As to him, he certainly has a violent streak to him - he doubts he need confirm that for her to know he's among those he speaks of.
no subject
She blinks when she feels him wiping away her tears. Such a large Beorc... He probably had a strong bloodline. But despite his strength, he was so gentle with her.
"So protectors have different meaning or... traits." She goes to sigh as she never stops her head petting. He has done a lot for her and will do more for her, giving him this was the least she can do. "It does sounds complicated. Another day perhaps, you can explain more to me. I would love to hear more about it and you."
no subject
But then, it could be worse. At least she is kind and gentle, and that's something he'll happily walk beside. As to his bloodline... well, that would be a conversation to have.
"... Mm. Another day, yes." Quietly, he shifts his weight, inclining his head without interrupting her headpets. "I'm not all that complicated, personally. Just someone going through his life, same as anyone else... but if you want to speak about it later, then I will agree to chat at another time." Pausing, he regards her for a moment. "I'll not keep you, either, if there are any obligations you need to keep."
no subject
He really seem to like the headpats if judging by how he refused to really leave them. It was a little cute but still, the comfort was given all the same. "Whenever you are ready to tell me, then I can listen, my friend." She then shakes her head and lets out a small giggle. "No, there are not any obligations I need to get to at this time, Donar. So I can stay and keep this up for as long as you like."
no subject
"I-" Wh. Wha??? Oi, you can't just call him on that, Leanne- "It's not- that is. You don't have to do anything, for me. I'm not... used to that." He doesn't know what to say, now. How do emotions and comforts work???
no subject
"Shhh, it is okay, Donar. I know I don't have to but I want to. It's okay to ask for or let yourself enjoy this. Just relax and enjoy this small comfort." She coos and finds herself relaxing to enjoy this small peace.
no subject
"Ah..." It's okay, she says, and he doesn't really have the heart to disagree. "... If you say so." It's a start, at least. He'll just... allow it. For her sake, not his own. Really.