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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i.Arrival

[Abby steps through a door. She thinks that it's just a door to an abandoned home, a regular check through supplies like she always does. The dilapidated state of things is completely familiar and doesn't phase her at all.

When she hears something in the distance, she crouches down, pistol at the ready. She moves swiftly and carefully around one corner, getting closer to the noise. Finally, at the source, she stands up and violently turns the corner with her pistol pointed at... you.

Someone is very clearly not a fungus zombie.

Abby scowls and slightly lowers her gun.]

What the fuck are you doing hiding out in a place like this? Don't scare people like that!

[Says the muscled woman who's jumping out at people from behind corners...]

ii. Ashes, ashes.

[There's something fucking in the ashes. Abby's learned the hard way. Something grabbed at her ankle and she had to fire off her shotgun to get it to let her go, leaving dark gauges in her leg that make her limp.

If she sees another Wickie in the same situation, she'll quickly rush over and violently curb stomp the offending creature with heel of her boot, forcing it to let go, before she fires off another shot gun blast at the pile of ash. When all is quiet, she'll turn to you and say:]

Fuck this place, right? You okay?

[Or you might find her later, having drawn one of them out, with her shotgun pointed at one of the bizarre ash sharks. She's not asking questions. She's here to kill.]

Unfortunately for you, I've killed way bigger and way uglier.

[Help her out?]

iii. Heart Game

Had to crawl across a bunch of fucking construction cranes 60 stories above the city that had been tied together with rope and broken bits of wood. Then I fell 30 feet and crashed through a hotel atrium into a pool.

Great day. Great memories.

IX. Wild card

[OOC: Hit me up with anything! And feel free to let me know if you're avoiding spoilers!]

Edited 2020-08-31 03:43 (UTC)

[It's not like she was really being careful or quiet as she poked around the dilapidated house. Was this the metaverse? Her clothing hadn't changed from her school uniform, so maybe not? But this definitely looked like a Western-styled home. American? Hm...

The kitchen seemed to be in working order well enough, at least, and she's none the wiser to being creeped up on... Up until Abby pops up. Sumi whirls about with a yelp of surprise, her hand grabbing at her side for a weapon that isn't there, unsure if she should try summoning it or not. It's not a shadow she's up against, but--

A blue-eyed blonde with a gun? This was definitely America.]

Wh-what?! Shouldn't I be the one saying that? That's not a real gun, is it?!

[Abby sighs but it's more of a scowl. She's glad that she didn't decide to punch whatever she came across but also a little grumpy that she got all edge over a kid.]

Believe me, you're gonna be happy it's a real gun if we run into anything.

[She glances over the girl's shoulder to make sure there's nothing down the hall before back at her.]

...You seriously don't have a gun?

[Sumi looks a bit baffled at that. This had all looked pretty normal-- were there actually monsters around? She frowns and looks around, concerned, but nothing seems out of place...

Not, she supposes, that it really matters if it did or didn't. She considers mentioning summoning a rifle if need be, but... Maybe that'd just be more confusing.

Instead she shifts her weight from foot to foot and brushes off her clothes] Uh-- No. Not with me. I lost it. I guess if you have a spare rifle I could use that?

[It's not really a lie?]

[Abby looks her up. Then down. Then up again.

PRESS X TO DOUBT THIS GIRL CAN USE A RIFLE.]

'Fraid I forgot to stop at the Rifle store before I got here.

[HEY. LOOK........ that's entirely valid.

Her expression does slightly flat at that joke, exasperated a bit, but there's more important things at stake here!]

Sorry. I'm not even sure where this really is. I came home from school to rest before practice, and when I woke up I was in this house... I don't suppose you know where we are, do you?

Nope.

[She gives her a glance over again. The outfit she's wearing makes sense. Her father told her that some students wore uniforms to school.]

But wherever we are now, I'm pretty sure we didn't come from the same place. So you know... that's fun.

[IT'S NOT FUN.]

[Sumi knows she should be a lot more concerned about, well, all of this. Maybe it's the fact that it's so strange that she can't quite freak out about it all--plus, despite her sinking feeling that this isn't the Metaverse and isn't connected to that at all, if she keeps thinking of it in similar terms, it's a bit easier to accept.]

It's-- Different, at least? [Which...is kinda fun. She supposes.]

I'm Violet. I'm from Shujin Academy, in Tokyo, Japan. [She bows with a perfect politeness] But you, and this place, look pretty... American?

[ the sound in question was: a slurpee being slurped by a boy who never did slurp. young as he was (barely thirteen from the fresh baby look on his face), his reaction is instant and almost— mature. frightened and startled, surely, dropping the colorful cup to raise his hands up by his head, but hips: no weapons. hands: unarmed. slurpee: cotton candy ice contents spilled all down his shirt and to his shoes. ]

I— Sorry, I— [ tentatively, arms are lowered, and while his voice works up from the strangled squeak he made earlier: ] Y-you scared me too, Miss.

Jesus Christ.

[She lowers the gun, feeling a little guilty despite herself.

It's a kid. A fucking kid. He barely looks older than Lev. Hell, he certainly looks less capable than Lev.]

Look, it's fine. Just— What are you doing here by yourself?

Edited 2020-09-02 03:18 (UTC)

[ —phew. okay. everything is calmer now, her can relax . . . he doesn't mind much when it came to the drink. it was good, but he prefers peace between them than bothering with complaints about spilled slurpee. with a hand, he just tries to rub off any remaining splats on his shirt and bends to pick up the remains. no littering.

behind him is a bag far more larger than himself, like a hiker's bag, all filled with things he's gotten from fruit's basket— blankets and camping products included. ]

I was just going back to the place I'm staying in. Um, [ he points, over her shoulder. ] it's that way.

[ feeling the tension, despite everything, and assuming she was just as lost as he was a few days ago— he rolls his shoulders to bring the first strap of his bag forward, swinging the rest of it closer to the ground so he can pull for the zipper. mister mandalorian asked for food, one of the first things he wanted, actually, so . . . ]

Are you hungry, Miss? Food can help you think better.

I'm fine.

[Her reply probably cuts more harshly than she intends. She winces the second those words leave her lips. Fuck, this is just a kid. Come on Abby, she tells herself, don't be such a fucking asshole.

She inhales and runs a hand down her face and then glances at the kid. He's a kid. Just a goddamn kid. She can't just let him go around this place by himself.]

Yeah, okay. I can walk you back. And carry shit. Just give it here.

[She offers up an arm to him.]

[ there's less of a flinch in falco's eyes, more used to rough-around-the-edges coarseness or curt words he'd receive on the daily. to be frank, this was like water and sugar. it was fine, and he's considerate; she's stressed, and clearly expresses herself in a way he can catch through body language alone. he too, is patient, and only lets the bag rest on the ground before he'd have to hoist it up onto his shoulders again— oh, but. oh. ]

Oh— [ to both of those, ] Thank you.

[ he's careful to grab one of the canteens snapped at the side right next to his plush bear keychain swinging around before inhaling, suspending the bag and offering it to her. abby will find that the weight his bag carries is alright for her, what she'd expect an adult to lug around on a few day camping trip— but not him. he still managed to walk and not seem tired, scarily enough. ]

It's right down there, the last cottage before the turn. [ he's going to take a guess and— ] Did you just show up?

Edited (words getting eaten!) 2020-09-04 18:38 (UTC)

Yeah. You know, needed to take a vacation so I booked a room here.

[No one clap that wasn't funny.

Huh.

She picks up the bag and tosses it over her shoulder. It's heavy. Much heavier than she would have expected for a kid that size.]

Bag's pretty heavy. What were you doing before you got here?

[ oh—similar alibi, falco told people he moved in recently. which means he completely takes that seriously and respects it for now, you know? even if he has a feeling . . . anyway, the bag's weight. if falco was also good at one thing, it was quick thinking and a mouth to accompany, so he says the first thing that comes to mind: ]

I travel a lot with my family, so, [ a light gesture! ] I'm used to that! Is it too heavy or—? [ although, he suddenly realizes he should take that back. she is Fit. and that could've been insulting. ] N-not that you can't carry it!

[ It took seconds for one of the creatures to grapple her to the ground, sharp fingers gripping the damaged leather of her vest, her shriek of fear devolving into a cough as hot ash burns at her throat and lungs. She twists beneath it, shoving one hand against its chest in panicked desperation before Abby manages to kick it off, the following gunshot a relief.

Sharon struggles to her feet, hands shaking, and mumbles a dazed thanks. ]

I'm... fuck, I'm okay, I think. [ Her left hip and elbow burn from where she hit the ground but nothing was broken or torn or bleeding. She glances to the still pile of ash and back to Abby. ] Where there's one, there's more. We should get inside.

[Abby reaches out to pull her up, keeping her eyes on the area around them instead of the woman. Once she's sure that the woman is standing, she nods.]

Read my mind. I'll take up the back if you watch the front.

[She indicates that Sharon should keep watch in the direction that they're heading.]

[ Sharon moves cautiously in the beginning, afraid the sounds of their footfalls may draw more of those creatures, but that quickly turns out to be a bad decision. Every pile of ash they pass seems to come alive, slender fingers reaching up and out, some gripping pavement or ground for purchase as if they could pull their whole body up. ]

They're everywhere. [ The words just tumble out, her fear audible, but her jaw is set tight in determination as she gives the woman a quick look. They didn't have a lot of options but there was a building in the distance. ]

Just keep moving. Watch where you step.

[Her shotgun is at the ready. The spray can hold off a fucking shambler so she's pretty sure it can take these ugly freaks. But... she'd really rather not have to waste bullets on these things.

If a spindly hand gets too close, Abby will stomp on it with the heel of her boot, causing it to retreat.]

Edited 2020-09-03 14:49 (UTC)

[ Sharon focuses on avoiding the piles and needy fingers by being quick on her toes. She's smart enough to know that if she tried to follow the other woman's example, she'd just need saved again. It takes just a handful of minutes to reach the covered porch of a shuttered home. The windows are dark and boarded and the door—Sharon turns the handle and moves to throw it open but it doesn't budge—locked.]

Fuck! [ Breathlessly. Fresh fear bubbles in her throat. The ash creatures seemed more courageous, or more hungry, because Sharon could see their heads rising up from the ground, huge mouths gaping. And, far off in the distance, there were shadows closing in. More of them.

Could they outrun them? Maybe the next house. Or the back door. Even if the other woman had infinite ammo, Sharon doesn't think there's a way to fight them all off. They didn't have a lot of options. ]

Move!

[Abby snaps. She doesn't mean to snap. Deep in the back of her mind, she knows it's stupid to snap at someone trying their best. They're all just confused and trying to survive. But she does it because she's like THAT and just still trying to be better.

She pushes Sharon aside and slams against the door with her shoulder. It creaks at the lock but doesn't budge. Abby growls, inhales, and slams again. The wood on the lock breaks and the door gives in.

Abby turns and grabs the other woman by the arm and bodily forces her back into the room before slamming the door and pulling whatever she can find in front of it.]

Fuck. Fuck...

It's... it's fine. We're good now.

[ With the immediate threat taken care of, Sharon's adrenaline dips, her legs weak and hands shaking. She leans against a hall wall for support, clearly unused to this type of excitement. ]

You don't think they'll...? [ The rest of the sentence die in her throat. She'd rather not give the grand game of life any ideas. Still, her own words seem to spur her to action because she begins to inspect the home they'd escaped into.

It's a mess, everything covered in a thin layer of dust—but, thankfully, no ash. ]

I dunno.

[Abby keeps her shotgun pointed at the door, though she keeps glancing around, trying to hear if there's anything moving in the house.]

Just don't drop your guard.

[ How could anyone drop their guard right now? Still, she nods as she begins to cautiously check the living room, peeking past the dining room into a desolate kitchen. The sliding back door is covered in grime and its large windows make her nervous but nothing appears to be moving in the back yard. She wanders back to her companion. ]

'm Sharon, by the way. [ She offers quietly. ] Thanks for, you know, not letting me get eaten or whatever.

[ Those mouths were huge. No way they weren't going to use them. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

First TDM: Sterile Blues

abby anderson | the last of us part II

Arrival! I'm okay w/spoilers! let me know if you're okay w/them too from this end

good on my end too!

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arrival! spoilers are 👌

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ii

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