▶ TDM OVERFLOW .001

[prismods]

Cybernetic dream, something like you've never seen

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▶ Lisa Frank's LSD Fun House
anytime, anywhere on the moon Iris | top

Everything is darkness except for dim lights sparkling in the distance, a faint gleam that greets you as you start to unfurl from your dormant state. 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. Throat parched and skin dry and aching, you grope your body in alarm to make sure your possessions are still in place. 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 only rewards you with 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.

A ⬤ As you traverse the near-barren landscape, you feel something sting your skin. It's small and subtle at first, then you finally catch sight of it: an elegant, crystalline mosquito buzzing around from the corner of your eye. However, a pest is still a pest. After a while, marks near your welts begin to form strange patterns on your skin, mimicking ancient runes. Each rune has with it a particular side-effect that may hinder you on your journey:

✾ The Mark of the Enchanter: Hallucinations, hallucinations galore. Your character will see everything and anything their imagination can conjure and will have difficulty separating reality from fiction.
₪ The Mark of the Destroyer: Limbs start to cease their function, causing you to stumble or try and get around one-handed. Other certain body parts may be affected as well. Look at the bright side: you can stop worrying about jiggle physics and hiding your fear boner.
⍢ The Mark of the Sinner: Your hunger, your thirst, your fatigue and your desire are at an all-time high. Your impulses are rabid and uncontrollable. Maybe you experience only one of those symptoms. Maybe you experience them all. All you know is that you want relief now.

These effects will eventually clear up with a bit of accidental or purposeful physical contact with another person, making you wonder if there was anything wrong with you at all.

B ⬤ Hunger starts to gnaw at you vigorously. Perhaps you consider hunting the moon's creatures to sate your hunger. That's when you see it: a thick, meaty, juicy meal on legs. No, we're not talking about Alex Louis Armstrong. A wild silver-white pegasus runs across the purple landscape, its hair billowing in the wind as its hooves smack loudly against the ground. Try and shoot it, and you may find your efforts curtailed by its legendary rage. Eyes aglow and wings beating up a storm, this pegasus is no dainty horse. Two thousand pounds of pure muscle swoop down and charge at you, all blades and ammunition deflecting off its impenetrable skin. Taming appears impossible; it will buck anyone away and leave a sizable horn- or hoof-shaped hole in them for their efforts. Hunting it, however, should be easier. Relatively.

C ⬤ Or you may decide that you'd like to take a drink in the prismatic waters. A small pond can be found just a few miles away from where you first awoke, but gazing into it reflects what appears to be a window into your own world. You see the faces of loved ones or at least someone very close and familiar to you gathered around your prone body, shaking it frantically as though to try and rouse you, yet your image lies frozen and unresponsive, not even a whisper of life running through you. Did you die in your world? Is this your afterlife? The questions start to pile up along with the gnawing dread that you may never return home again.

▶ Camp Nowhere
anytime, anywhere on the moon iris | top

Time moves strangely when you're trapped on a moon with no sun to guide you. Hours feel like days, and days feel like weeks. Travelling has rendered you weak and tired. Luckily, a few crystal formations in the shape of a cavern may offer you a small place refuge as you decide to nap. You notice a few artifacts left over from previous explorers.

D ⬤ A comm unit abandoned within the cavern will display the former owner's idol obsession. As you tap the buttons indiscriminately, a holographic screen will appear, and you will see a fabulous recorded concert featuring three bubbly young ladies in animal print, singing to you about something called Cordis, a cat, and a bag of gems. Does this make any sense to you? Probably not, but the beat is catchy. You may even find yourself tapping a foot along to it. Don’t worry. We know it’s plastic love.

E ⬤ There's a small cooler-like container of preserved powdered food bags labeled with only the word “Edible” that can be safely consumed. Although the powder tastes as bland as you’d expect, it’s oddly filling, sating either hunger or thirst. But who will be the first — and the bravest — to try eating them?

F ⬤ A strange, pointed instrument is among the effects found in the cavern. It's silver, long, and thin with a curved end and a light. When you grip it with warm hands, it seems to vibrate enthusiastically and comes in three settings indicated by a frowny face, a neutral face, and a happy face. What could it mean exactly? No one knows, but you can fiddle with it to your heart's desire. Just don't ask yourself where it's been before. You don't want to know.

▶ Interstellar Action Force Assemble
prisma, iris | top

Over a day has passed when a group of people find you worse for wear. Some are full of uncertainty and fear while some are full of curiosity and excitement. They claim that they are scientists from the planet Prismatica here to investigate the sudden appearances of rainbow crystals in the skies. That means you and the others they’ve located within the area. You are all a surprising find to them, and they are quick to load everyone in their transport vehicles for examination and questioning.

You all may have your usual inquiries — Where are we? Who are you? What's going on? Why are the pegasi so ill-tempered? — and the Prismals are almost too eager to answer. They do have questions on their own, so it’s only fair to trade. They tell you about their world as they poke and prod you, trying to understand what you are and how you came into their land. If they’re not trembling in fear, some of them may ask you odd and invasive questions in return, such as what the rate at which your body achieves thermoregulation is, how long your refractory period is, and if you would be willing to submit various kinds of body fluids to them. It's up to whether you wish to comply or protest.

G ⬤ If you react violently, you will be restrained and nerfed with a specialized neurotransmitting gun that releases a numbing agent through the top of your spine. They came prepared, so have fun with that! In any case, conscious or not, you’ll be brought into one of the transport vehicles. If you choose to peacefully cooperate, you’ll be provided any necessary first aid and a refreshing drink to help you recuperate after the rough time you had for the past few days. Each transport vehicle has a few small rooms to rest in, but due to the limited space, you’ll have to snuggle up with someone else on that bunk bed. Unfortunately, the moonshine fruit the ship is also carrying in its cargo has an extremely sweet smell that’s been permeating through certain areas of the ventilation system… Taking a whiff of it may inebriate you for the rest of the trip.

H ⬤ It’s a bumpy ride as terrain vehicles draw over various crystal formations until you see a large dome-like structure up ahead. Within its confines lies the seat of the Prismatica's government, Prisma. It’s a bureaucratic wet dream: skyscrapers practically touch the upper surface of the dome, windows glimmer with a prismatic sheen as daylight hits them, and small ships can be seen flying to and from its spaceport. The scientists, members of the Lunar Scientia, usher you into their facilities for tests. Arrivals are likely to twitch, tremble, and panic as Lunar Scientia fellows take and broadcast every embarrassing, unfiltered detail about you — height, weight, age, strange odors, estimated frequency of sexual activity —- to one another. These scientists will ask you politely to undress, too, but understand if you don't want to. They're especially fascinated by the readings of pure Chroma inside you, whispering among one another excitedly about the possibility of the new arrivals being a new moon species. What should they call them? Moonborne? Moonblessed?

I ⬤ At long last, the questions and physical examinations are done. They’ve decided to call the arrivals as the Moonblessed. They’ll take you under their care until they understand more about you. You're allowed a very refreshing hot shower and a warm meal for your efforts. Don’t worry, the meal was imported from their planet. “Planet?” you might ask, but you won’t need to wonder for too long. The ships are preparing for their next destination: the nearby planet Prismatica, where you will be dwelling for the time being. You're free to explore the government center until then.

▶ Wildcard
Lunatia, Prismatica | top

It only takes a couple hours for the ships to reach their home planet. The ships drop the characters off at the city of Lunatia, where they will be given their communication devices and a plastic card they can present to certain landlords at any residential district for their subsidized (read: absolutely free) lodging. Officials at Prisma instructed the newcomers to await further instructions from the government, but you have a lot of time to kill before then. Why not explore in the meantime? Learn the ins and outs of the world, get a job, transform under the full moon, and explore the many mysteries of planet Prismatica!

This is this TDM's overflow. Feel free to move your threads from there and continue tagging!

Comments

Adra

[garb4ge]

(Original thread )

[He squints at the other man, as if he's trying to decide something important. He's really just deciding whether the guy himself is just a hallucination. It would make sense.]

As far as you know, you mean. How do you know nobody drugged you? Big, handsome boy like you, I'm sure someone would love to get you nice and friendly. I mean, I wouldn't mind you rubbing up on me...

[Please don't murder him.]

[hymnals]

[Adrasteius is mostly a pacifist, but he scowls anyway, taking a step back.]

Drugs usually induce multiple symptoms. Nausea, aching, sweating ... I feel fine, aside from ...

[He pauses, glancing at the afterimages walking through Klaus, the familiar faces that dissipate before ever reaching him, the sudden fall of redgold leaves.]

... the general situation. No, it's probably some kind of rude magic.

[Aside from the look on his face, he's glossing past the come on.]

[garb4ge]

[This is, actually, probably the best way to deal with Klaus' come ons. It keeps them from escalating, and it also keeps him from bringing them up again because they don't get a rise out of you.

He just laughs.]

Your mileage may vary, my friend. They usually induce multiple symptoms, but they don't always. Or they induce things you don't notice.

[Stop trying to convince everyone they're on drugs.]

--But, y'know, I don't remember putting anything like that in me, either.

[hymnals]

[Adra is more or less a doctor, so he just shakes his head.]

Yeah, I know that. But I know magic, too, and this place is reeking with it. I just don't know where the magic is coming from, or who's controlling it.

[He scratches at the reddening bite on his palm, then glances it. Hmm.]

Is there anything you do remember?

[garb4ge]

[Klaus is still itching at the bite on his own arm, honestly, and absently half-swaying toward Adra.]

Mmm. Magic, huh?

[He raises his eyebrow, but at least he answers the man's question.]

What I remember? Thinking 'gee, the inside of the space-time continuum really does look like bad sci-fi strobe lights', mostly. Spielberg was right, I guess.

[hymnals]

[Adra raises one owlish eyebrow.]

Right, whoever that is.

[The scratching doesn't escape his notice, and he finally thinks he's near to the bottom of this. Or, at least, the halfway point.]

Give me your arm.

[garb4ge]

You know, big director? Star Wars?

[Give your arm over to a stranger, still-obvious track marks and all? Sure, why not?

Klaus holds his arm out to Adra, bare up to his shoulder in only his sleeveless army fatigue shirt.

He doesn't have a whole lot of self-preservation instinct at the best of times, never mind when he's this disoriented.]

[hymnals]

I'm not really in the mood for gibberish.

[He examines Klaus's arm with a sharp eye, though his specific eyes are just about impossible to track, given that their bright green glow obscures any suggestion of a pupil. He traces his fingers along the track marks, though his expression doesn't suggest any judgment, and then pauses at the fresh swelling. His fingers are delicate; unusually warm.]

Looks like you got bitten, too.

[He squints, noticing the unusual marks.]

There's a pattern forming ...

[garb4ge]

Oh, of course there is.

[Yeah, he's seeing that technicolor green (although he's more distracted by the way that those warm and soft fingers feel against his skin -- definitely not going to complain about that), but what is he doing, exactly?]

Because why would it just be a regular mosquito and not some sort of space bug?

[hymnals]

[Absently:]

Magical space bug.

[He squints at the bite. His eyes flash gold, and a shimmering light limns his palm; this light flows from his hand and into Klaus's body. It's a warm, soothing feeling; like being swaddled by a blanket on a cold day, like sitting by a fire with a cup of hot cocoa. The spell soothes the itch, but it has no other effect on the bite.]

Looks like that's the best I can do.

[garb4ge]

[He rolls his eyes. Magical space bug. God, like his life wasn't weird enough.

The longer that this guy is talking to him, doing whatever weird fucking magic thing that he just did, the more sure he is that he isn't high.

So now he's ... warm and soothed, but he's also low-key panicking. Great.

At least the intentional skin contact from Adra has also solved his little boner problem. That's probably good for both of them, honestly. Klaus rubs the back of his neck.]

Uh -- thanks? For doing a thing I didn't ask for that fortunately did not backfire horribly.

[hymnals]

[He looks puzzled.]

Backfire? The Holy Light does not backfire. And I sure as hell don't have the patience to argue with you over whether or not I should try to heal an obvious wound.

[He lets go of Klaus.]

You're not undead. You have nothing to worry about.

[garb4ge]

Ooh, testy.

[At least Klaus manages to stop himself from asking if The Holy Light II also the name he gave his dick?

He rolls his shoulders, stretches his arms behind his back.]

And no, no near death experiences in at least 24 hours.

[hymnals]

I just know what I'm doing.

[He frowns as he draws back his sleeve presses a shimmery index finger to his own bite, just to soothe the itch. The mark is difficult to spot beneath the complex patterns of runic tattoos already inked on his skin.]

You must lead an exciting life.

[garb4ge]

Exciting. Sure, we can call it that.

[It's better than what medical professionals call it -- 'high risk' -- or what Pogo called it -- 'polluting his body'.

Even without his recreational activities taken into consideration, there was the whole apocalypse situation (was it taken care of, or not?). He eyes the tattoos, whistles low in his throat.]

Nice ink.

[hymnals]

They're for function, not form.

[It's clear that they're everywhere, too: all the way up his arms, across his throat, etc. Only his palms and face are free of markings (magical mosquito runes aside).]

You mentioned something about seeing the space time continuum. Do you recall being physically yanked here, then?

[garb4ge]

Stuff can be for two things, man.

[Form and function was the ideal, wasn't it? He snorts, though, shakes his head.]

No, no. That's the last thing I remember doing, and then just waking up here.

[hymnals]

[He makes a dismissive noise in his throat.]

And what were you doing? Regarding the continuum.

[garb4ge]

Oh, you know, just a little run-of-the-mill travelling back in time. Nothing serious.

[He actually manages the deadpan delivery pretty well, he thinks.]

[hymnals]

[Frown ...]

Tends to be a dangerous business.

[garb4ge]

[Oops, is it?

That's what his expression conveys.]

Don't worry, darling, I wasn't doing the calibrating.

[hymnals]

[He squinches up his nose at the endearment.]

Unsurprising.

[garb4ge]

I'm going to pretend you're not trying to be offensive. It's just not my wheelhouse.

[He actually does have a wheelhouse, he just -- kind of hates it, all right?]

[hymnals]

Time travel requires delicacy, foresight, and a clear mind. It's almost no one's wheelhouse.

[His ears perk up, like a smug little cat.]

So, you're correct: I wasn't trying to be offensive.

[garb4ge]

[And that actually makes him laugh, something that's high-pitched and almost manic.]

Christ, don't tell that to Five. He'll get such an ego it'll tip over his tiny, teenage body.