prismaticrap | ▶ TDM .009

Entry tags:

You awaken amidst the darkness with only a faint light to greet you. Your body is hemmed in by shards of crystals, gently sparkling and possibly pricking your skin. The surrounding landscape is dyed in the pinks and purples of the dusk filled with crystals protruding from the ground, some as large as a skyscraper. Even the few shy moon creatures you find in the wild have strange crystal growths on their hides. This is far from home— perhaps a dream? You pinch your skin and slap your cheeks, yet nothing seems to do the trick. Searching for answers yields nothing but an endless expanse of purple dust as far as the eye can see. You have four options: one, panic; two, soil yourself; three, admire it all then soil yourself; or four, go into survival mode. Eventually, you’ll realize that you’re not alone.

After a day or two of living off the crystal wilderness, a group of people find you worse for wear. They are the gallant Moon Knights from the planet of Prismatica. After the strange phenomenon during the past months when scientists observed the sudden appearance of rainbow crystals in the sky, the government has been feverishly combing through the moon for more Moonblessed to be rescued. You’ll eventually be brought into Iris’s moon government center.

You all may have your usual inquiries — Where are we? Who are you? What's going on? Why did I inhale all those permanent markers in the third grade? — and the Prismals are almost too eager to answer. They tell you about their world and about the first appearance of the Moonblessed as the medical staff give you an examination to make sure you’re not carrying any viruses or biological hazards. If you react violently, you may be restrained and nerfed with a specialized neurotransmitting gun that releases a numbing agent through the top of your spine. Once the examinations are over, you’re informed that you will be provided accommodations on their planet during your stay.

While waiting for transport to be prepared, you may freely roam around the government center. Eventually you’re called back from exploring, escorted to the docks, and led onto a large transport vessel that makes frequent trips back and forth between the moons and the planet. Faces onboard vary from both old and new Moonblessed as well as the local Prismals. The next destination: Prismatica.

▶ Whip It Good
Iris Moon, Government Center (Arrival) and Planet Prismatica, City of Lunatia | top

Welcome to Prismatica’s hub, Lunatia, the city of your dreams! A bustling metropolis lush with bright lights, vibrant colors, luxuriant plant life, and all the conveniences of technology absent from your own world… It seems like paradise to all the uninitiated. After a quick tour of the city, new arrivals can find themselves getting cozy in their new homes.

A Settle in your new home at Level 2 to find new roommates and say hello to your neighbors! City officials will give you directions to the designated districts across Level 2 and instruct you to pick out a unit. Each apartment complex has a different aesthetic, some may look cozy, some stylish, and some bizarre. The free accommodations have a basic living space that can only fit two or three people at most in one unit.

Starter Chromaspace furnishings are provided which can be controlled with the touch of a built-in panel. Examples are color-changing curtains, transforming sofa beds, cabinets turning into tables, etc. Customizing your apartment or moving out will have to wait until you earn more chroma. Until then, why don’t you check out your new neighborhood or explore the city levels? Maybe your new roommates or neighbors can give you a “hand” with allowance for dinner.

B At the Crystarium Moonports is a new family restaurant called Grapplebears, here to serve your favorite dishes from all around the galaxy at affordable prices! The menu ranges from the atomically hot and spicy Chamakshalan curry rice, delectable dragonsaur steak served with mashed space-tatoes, to the sweet and creamy Lunatian milkshakes that bring all the boys to the yard, all prepared by their handsome and huggable bear crew.

As you might have noticed, the restaurant staff is a ragtag group with members from planets unknown to both Prismals and Moonblessed. The waiters and waitresses in particular are tall, muscular, leather-clad bears who take your order by whipping you with a special riding crop that compels you to bark out your order — but only if you ask to be, of course! They might induce you to reveal other unrelated interests so make sure you’re not thinking about anything embarrassing!

If you chat up the staff or customers, you learn more about the restaurant’s origins. The bears say their planets* were also wiped by the Calamity hundreds of years ago, and life for them has been difficult for them since then…

*Further information about these planets is unavailable at this time.

▶ Night of the Living Dummy
City of Lunatia | top

The last vestiges of Geistnacht have officially passed and the first chilly autumn breeze ushers in the new season. The city is awash in giant piles of browning leaves that decorate every walkway.

A To deal with the mass collection of fallen leaves, many buildings across the city have been retrofitted with a new disposal system to help clean up. A sprawling network of automated vacuum tubes around the city will efficiently suck all those pesky leaves right up. While children love playing inside and using them to “teleport” around Lunatia, they have also been known to spontaneously suck up anyone who’s not too careful. You may find yourself falling on some hapless bystander on their afternoon walk, or crammed in a tube with your new neighbors. Lunar Scientia officials warn everyone to be careful of where you walk, else you might need to crawl your way to sweet freedom.

B A pop-up shop in Level 1 is attracting much of the locals' attention, run by a peddler who speaks in a low, elongated hiss and wears a hood over his face. He assures you that his face is of no consequence. What is more important is his selection of wares! In contrast to his cloaked, enigmatic appearance, his travel cart is a Barbie pink explosion of frills, hearts, glitter. He will tell all visitors he comes from the Valley of the Crimson Serpents, which Prismals and older Moonblessed arrivals find odd. Wasn’t the Sanguis moon uninhabitable?

Among the peddler’s wares are adorable, wide-eyed and heavily perfumed dolls in all sorts of clothes a child dreaming of rainbows and tea parties could ever ask for. Hug and squeeze a doll, and you will be greeted by a pre-recorded voice telling you how they’re your bestest friend ever. It’s like they were made for lovin’ you! But if you look away for one moment, you can almost swear you hear a snake’s hiss, its long tongue licking the shell of your ear… The next time you see the doll, its body will be in a slightly different position or location. Is it… following you? Fortunately, a minimal amount of moonlacing will make it leave you alone. You can wait it out too, but why would you?

Destroy a doll and it will later reappear wherever you are when you least expect it, good as new, but leaking from their porcelain heads is a strange pink, glitter-covered liquid. The peddler calls it the “love juice” giving the doll an extra dose of affection for you.

▶ Bird is the Word
Level 2, Greatmoon Groves | top

As autumn paints Lunatia with its golden hues, pumpkin decorations and desserts are now in vogue. This is thanks to Chroma-infused pumpkin seeds, which allow them to rapidly grow in all sorts of sizes, shapes, and colors. The Moonblessed are invited to visit one of the largest pumpkin patches in the city housed within the Greatmoon Groves, where they can enjoy the sight of oversized, colorful neon and sparkling semi-phallic pumpkins, expertly carved to greet you with their buck-toothed smiles.

A The pumpkin patch is full of toddler-sized creatures called hugbugs. When they are not tending to the pumpkins, they follow the Moonblessed around, requesting hugs and treats in exchange for their obedience.

Reward them and they will do simple errands for you and give you compliments. They will also be your personal hype men, talking up your strengths, talents, and physical assets to all those special someones you’re trying to impress. Once you earn their trust, they will be your friends for life!

Ignore them, hurt them, or bully them, and they will cry and place a curse upon you, reducing your self-esteem to nothing and magically forcing you to cry along with them. The effects of the curse may last for up to a week if you’re not careful! But how could you do such a thing? The hugbugs are sensitive and want somebody to love.

B If you manage to survive your encounter with the hugbugs, you are welcome to join in on the Prismal knitting group and enjoy creating your own fanciful scarf made of Galadrian thread, which is known for its bright, golden sheen and aromatic properties. Give it to a friend or wear it yourself, and you will notice a strange ability to attract animals and insects of all kinds. Live out your Disney Princess fantasy! Or a Hitchcockian nightmare. It’s all a matter of perspective as a whole flock of honking birds comes bounding towards you.

▶ Questions
If you have any questions regarding this test drive meme, please ask them in the Questions thread below.

▶ As a reminder, test drive memes are for new characters only. However, current players are more than welcome to use these prompts for their own posts in the IC communities, personal inboxes, catch-all posts, etc.!
▶ As our test drive memes are game canon, feel free to keep any threads that happen here as canon for your character should they be accepted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Even for a daemon, that was the worst ride ever, and he's not looking to do it again.

So it's a relief when he's finally spat out at the end—less of one when he lands face first into garbage. Soft enough from all the leaves it'd sucked up before him to cushion his fall, but smelly from what was in the leaves that isn't leaves, vague reek instantly clogging up his sensitive nose making him cough.

He unceremoniously spits off to the side. Eugh. But hey, at least his sword's safe—which is what really matters.

With a grunt, Rokurou rolls over onto his back. Spread eagle in the garbage, squinting up at the face peering over the edge of the dumpster. Stares right back up at the boy before surging up like a creature from the deep without warning, arms becoming a hooked claws of garbage death as he latches on and forcefully drags Guanshan's body into the dumpster with him.

Oomph. He's heavier than Rokurou remembers (and much heavier than when they first met, thin as a rail, elbows sharp enough to pop balloons). ]

Yeah?

[ But he doesn't drag the kid in to hug him. Nope—Rokurou barks out a short laugh, shoving him into the garbage. ]

Now you're just as bad.

[ should've seen it comin' ]

No! No, don't you d- A-ROU, NO!!

[ his sneakers are actually just planted on the side of dumpster as he bucks and flails and tries to escape his inevitable fate, a sound of ripping somewhere along a seam of his sweater the last warning siren before Rokurou's strength wins out, as it always does. he topples over with a screech, at least having the instincts to duck and roll, and maybe he'd be able to land on some plush tits if only they weren't connected to an absolute asshole. ]

[ instead, he gets a face full of compost pile. twisting in it with a retch. don't puke don't puke don'tpuke — ]

[ a gag and a choke, drool leaking from his bottom lip, but he holds it down. ]

Ungh... fucking shitstain... [ dragging himself doggedly up, bars of his arms latching onto the edge of the dumpster and hanging on like it's the ledge of a swimming pool, he finds his perch — only for long legs to whip back and begin levying stomps at his companion. ]

[ aiming, of course, for all the good bits. ] Die— die— die!

Hrk—!

[ Mo Guanshan has too much damn leg for Rokurou to avoid, especially when caught up in leaves, gook, and other crap in a dumpster. So he tries to escape the lash of his dumb giant foot, but really can't in such a small, narrow space. And so Rokurou coughs out when Guanshan hits gold (ding ding ding), seeing speaks of red and white before rolling over. ]

Cheap... shot. Cheap shot!

[ Wheezed out as the daemon curls, letting out a few unattractive dry horfs before flopping back out into the trash, quick to cover his crotch with the sheath of one of his swords. Off limits, ya little shit. ]

Get your stupid feet away from there.

[ Best the daemon can do right now is kick back with his own feet. He's gonna kick this brat in the ass, literally. ]

That's the one place you're supposed to be nice to, beansprout. Damn!

[ Kick kick kick kick kick. Not enough to hurt. More like... firm nudges. With his heel. Which also has garbage stuck to it. ]

[ a dirty victory but one he relishes in all the same. he's no Rangetsu, no samurai, no honorable gangster with a heart of gold, there's just his petty vengeance to help speed up karma's job and sweet vindication. Rokurou can hit his ass back all he once, it doesn't matter, let it hurt. there's not much better in taking back his power. ]

[ to think this could've been a warm reunion; instead, they're seeped in compost. ]

Don't wanna.

[ satisfied, he climbs his way out of the dumpster... and it's really like a pouring of vaguely human-shaped goo over the edge of it because it sends him to a puddle back down on the ground, struggling with the energy to keep himself up right. why should he? he smells like shit, his afternoon's been ruined, he's lost his appetite for the next 24 hours at least, and some stupid fucking sword-humping sweet potato-obsessed jock is apparently here to stay. ]

[ ... ]

C'mon. We can shower at mine. [ said with a sigh as he stands, beginning to walk off without even checking behind him; from his back, Rokurou can't see it, but there's a slight smile threatening his lips. ]

[ it's a pretty good day after all. ]

[ Rokurou drags himself out right after, shedding a pile a leaves from his pants and jacket, spitting a few bits of grass off to the side and swatting green from his clothes as he follows after. None too bothered, considering he's definitely smelled worse than this before—but the leaves stuck to the bottom of his sandals are annoying, so he hops on one foot as he follows, tugging off leaf after leaf, not straightening up to his full height until he's caught up to the boy. ]

So then you're already settled in here, huh?

[ Scuffing his sandals on the ground for good measure, Rokurou stands tall and brings his hand up to give the back of Guanshan's head a good scruff, as he often does (used to, if he's settled in, how long's it been?). Only instead of the palm of his hand meeting the middle-top of the younger man's head in that reflex gesture, it hits... low.

Huah?

The palm of his hand sits more toward his nape, which is.... strange. ]

Something's ... wrong.

[ Mostly the fact that he's the one looking up right now. And not by only.... a centimeter. Definitely more than a few centimeters.

What the hell? ]

S'been a couple months, I jes' got the apartment they gave me. [ casually, having missed that entire adorable debacle. it wasn't uncommon for Rokurou to get left behind when Guanshan had a purpose, the daemon easy to distract when it came to anything other than meathead training and his select few hyper-fixations; just how much he's acclimated to that dumbass behavior is almost laughable. ]

[ he could probably track him across half of Lunatia with his scent or whatever. let the guy fuck off if he wants. ]

[ there's a start as a palm claps on his neck, a gesture that doesn't instinctively register as normal going on in his subconscious. he pauses, steps stopping on the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets in his slouch. but even with his terrible posture, he's still hovering above Rokurou's eyeline. ]

Now what? [ not that he quite realizes it. everything's seemed different, between the two fever dreams of Lagunbiru and Lunatia blending into one big magical fucking space odyssey. ]

Hm.

[ The daemon's hand slides upward, arm taking a newer, unfamiliar position as he lifts it to the top of Guanshan's head. Giving an affectionate scruff, curling fingers into a short buzz that he remembers all too well, despite how the blend of the Wastelands, Lagunbiru, and Lunatia spotting and bleeding.

Not that it much matters; Rokurou's never focused much on big pictures, eyes always falling to the smaller details. Like light eyelashes and sharp elbows over tangles of stars and crumbling ancient ruins. ]

Not much of a beansprout anymore, huh? Not sure if I should be proud or annoyed.

[ But the smile playing on his lips betrays his choice as Rokurou drops his hand, resting it back at his hip. He can get used to glancing upward instead of downward; either way, it's not much of a difference, even if it's different from what he'd become accustomed to. ]

You look good. [ (a little) thicker, taller, in one piece—Guanshan's surprisingly resilient, and it takes Rokurou a moment to recognize the tiny candle-light strike in his chest for what it is. he's happy to see the kid grow. he's come a long way. ] I'm glad.

[ — oh. ]

[ realization settles heavy and warm after his gaze shifts between the muscle-ribbed forearm next to him and back over to Rokurou's mismatched visage, eyes dancing over tousled hair and a golden eye and quirked lips. not much of a beansprout anymore. a plangent thud in his chest distracts him from the thoughts of where Rokurou was during those missed few inches gained and reminds him of the present, of the man himself standing in front of him, wraps him up in a longing that still has yet to abate, won't until he — ]

[ doesn't know. locks him up inside a room and keeps him all to himself for a little while, maybe. makes him kiss every invisible wound under his skin until they close — or maybe only if he scores out new ones on top, aches of Rokurou's own making, burying the rest in scar tissue. ]

[ he says he's glad and Guanshan takes a step forward, hunger leading him on. it's always been hard for him to express: the things he wants, telling others what he needs, but there's a language between them that sticks between his teeth and settles under his fingernails like grit, tactile and dirty, hard-earned through history and mistakes and successes too. Guanshan wants to kiss him then, that much is obvious from the gaze that swipes his mouth, curious to explore this new angle of theirs... ]

[ but instead, he hooks two fingers in the red thread of Rokurou's belt and tugs, subterfuge for a mounting desperation; they're in public, and both very much prone to privacy. ]

I missed you. [ just a little praise from him and he's ready to lay his ire down. sometimes, things really are that simple. ]

[ It's strange, how time and distance haven't dampened how easily he can read some of Guanshan's body language. The sweep of the boy's eyes and how they pointedly flick toward his mouth has the daemon's lips twitching up at the corners anew, this time with a more mischievous gild. Licking them out of instinct, teeth giving the bottom one a small scrape.

And stepping into that two-finger tug is magnetic, a comfortable closeness when Rokurou closes into the boy's space as easily as sliding into position for one of his strike forms. Doesn't matter that his head isn't angled slightly down; slightly up is the same in the end, only this time the daemon gets to look up from beneath his drooping eyelashes. ]

Yeah? [ a few fine lines crinkle at the corner of his human eye as his gaze softens, an empathetic pang mirroring those Guahnshan's words tickling in his belly, though Rokurou plays coy about repeating them, ] You should show me how much.

[ Instead their meaning is laced throughout his tone, words lowered with a touch of husk and intentional privacy; even if there's no one within earshot, they're not meant for anyone else.

'I missed you'..... tailwag.

It's a little spot of praise that might have had Rokurou forgoing their preference for closed doors if they weren't mutually covered in green compost, leaving both of them smelling like a vegan's asshole. ]

[ a hunter he is not, but he tracks those movements all the same, the lacquered orange of his gaze syrupy-slow; it catches on a flash of wet pink, a drag of sharp ivory, the unfurling of sly words that make his blood thrum and sing in a reminder that he's always forgotten who's supposed to be predator and who's supposed to be prey here. it comes to the surface of his cheeks, builds at the tips of his ears, dusting him with an innocent pink for all of the filth on his skin and in his mind when they really get to playing around. ]

[ he's never tried fooling daemons, and he doesn't intend to start. drawing close enough to feel his breath against his lips, there's tension in the space between them, a pull between bodies that are comfortable stacked together that he refuses to bow to no matter how it shudders, knows resistance makes it all that much sweeter — ]

[ but sequestered between them, Guanshan's slender fingers run over draped purple fabric, feel lower still for where the sunset shade of that yukata drapes open, press up and in where the hakama hang loose, and cup purposefully — route memorization navigating him through swaths of clothing. against a shape that's soft and malleable for the moment, his grip isn't gentle but it isn't painful either, not the way the teeth he sets into Rokurou's bottom lip are, biting and swelling it up purposefully, meant to split the hurricane of his pulse both north and south. ]

Promise I will.

[ well, it's been a while since Guanshan's done coy. it's like he noticed: he's grown, some of which he owes to Rokurou himself. can't really call a thing yours until you've had some hand in shaping it, can you. ]

[—huah.

A short exhale tailing behind that freshly swollen bottom lip, one Rokurou's tongue quickly darts out to lash over. Its tip traces into the mild divots blunt teeth have left behind, ones not hard enough to draw blood like he really likes, but enough that the daemon can taste it just beneath each prick. Tease. An echoing thrum of blood and thrill pulses in each throb as his lips stretch into another smile, a smaller one meant for intimacy.

Guanshan's hand goes south with a touch that has the daemon's eyelids fluttering for a moment, sensation sending a mirroring curl of something sweeter up his tailbone to pair with the pang at his mouth. Brat still remembers just how Rokurou likes it, twisting pain with the contrast of pleasure, and he huffs again. Of course he remembers.

Going north instead with his ungloved hand, rougher fingers and scarred palm press against the teen's (though, not for much longer, huh?) throat. Thumb pressing against his pronounced adam's apple, its pad and curve jutting inward with a squeeze, the rest of the daemon's fingers splay out wide where he can feel the mirroring pulse that runs just beneath the soft juncture of Guanshan's jaw with a pressing index finger. The whole delicate system of it, really, spread out beneath his touch. ]

Mn. [ a sound from his own throat along with the flicker of his own gaze, sweeping color that patches across pale skin, drawn to what could so easily become bright crimson with a single stroke— ] I look forward to it.

[ That grasp tightens for a moment, excitement running deep enough in his veins that it makes the daemon his fingers curl harder over points so vulnerable—

—and then that hold relaxes, fingers smoothing and hand dropping to clasp over the younger man's shoulder in a short pat. ]

So, how about that shower?

[ Lead the way, kiddo. ]

[ tan fingers a noose around a pale throat, he's let himself be hanged with that palm enough times for it to darken his eyes beneath heavy lashes. callous-rough, firm and masculine, just like he remembers it — it's not been that long, but the bittersweet part of a reunion is rapidly heading towards the latter with his veins all full of syrup, bottled and thudding hard up against the lifelines that seek it. ]

[ even with the prompting to move, he stays for a moment longer — lingers in one of those liminal spaces being with Rokurou always seems to create, invisible barriers raised between them and the rest of humanity. ]

[ is that because he's a daemon or because he's in love with him? Guanshan doesn't know, guesses it doesn't really matter. ]

[ his mouth parts for something — a tenderness or something even more beguiling, something that makes mirth touch his eyes, but he scoffs in amusement and decides against. instead, his hand heads up Rokurou's midline, gripping the sash keeping Stormhowl strapped to his back and jerking him forward. this oh so chaste kiss is one he plants on the dark swirls of his blight, lips puckered and pressed into the hardened carapace of his cheek, and when he turns to do as promised, there's a grin that flashes teeth. ]

[ guiding him through Lunatia isn't anything noteworthy; Rokurou will see the sights on his own just as he has been, no doubt. he has the heart for duty and piety and swearing himself to a cause but the feet of a wanderer and the curiosity of a kid sometimes — things Guanshan can hardly fault him for when his own sense of mischief leads him astray and far into the night often enough. a few passing mentions on connecting buspods — I like this coffeeshop, and If you been to Caihong yet, they got food like my country's, and I do my grocery shopping here, small stipplings of a life at the start of an establish, a young man who always adapts far better than he gives himself credit. ]

[ points for Rokurou to find him, if he needs to; places to pick up the scent. ]

[ his apartment is off the beaten path enough to feel quiet and enclosed, charming in its own right, but close enough to the main thoroughfare to feel in reach of he necessities. deciding against being in an enclosed space with their current funk of filth, he opts for the stairs, long legs taking them two and sometimes three at a time as he heads up a few flights of stairs... ]

[ and then... shoulders Rokurou out of the way around a turn. ]

[ for no explicable reason, it's a race now. ]

[ continued. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

▶ TDM .009

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject