▶ 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

[vanitas]

[ That absolutely sounds like something he would do. Actually, he was counting on it—the likelihood that Beelzebub would stay loyal to them was so infinitesimally small that he didn't even factor it into his calculations.

But for obvious reasons, he hadn't had the chance to gut him properly.

Which meant that one of them was lying, one of them was wrong, or that the situation was warped enough to allow for two conflicting truths. And for all of Belial's oddities, he doesn't doubt his true clarity of mind. Instead, he sets aside the various herbs and weeds to touch his neck idly, running a finger across his throat and wondering where the split went. ]

I was too busy being killed by Lucifer to have that opportunity.

[ Belial's ragged, unfamiliar clothes. A comment on his 'old' body. Disparate memories, a plan progressed to failure that he can't recall. A new world of indeterminate distance and time away. All signs point to him being behind, somehow. In which case, he's the one who ought to be asking, ]

What do you make of this?

[raws]

[ Well, if Lucilius is going to put him on the spot like this, then he can't disappoint. ]

Looks like you were spun through a time loop before falling out of the interdimensional rift. [ He muses, like this is nothing out of the ordinary. ] Who knows why, maybe the Singularity had something to do with it. The combination of your intellect and Lucifer's body... perhaps it was too much to take.

[ The situation doesn't call for it, but Belial's voice drops to a more suggestive octave in his last statement, peering intently at Lucilius, amused that fate or the Creator might have conspired like this to further reduce him as a threat. They would've been better off stealing his head, not Lucifer's body, as Lucilius' most dangerous weapon has always been his mind. ]

I suppose I really do owe you that 2000 year report.

[ He's not sure if it even matters now, in this foreign dimension, but he's not going to pass up an opportunity to regale Lucilius with his tales. ]

[vanitas]

[ As usual, he filters out Belial's antics and lets the raw information roil about in his head. It's a sensible enough possibility, and one he's inclined to accept when his own perceptions are too warped and dated and put stock in. (All assuming, dangerously, that Belial was telling the truth—which Lucilius is confident enough to do.)

Then, the implications take another second to process. The world would be intact. He'd be successfully revived. Neither scenarios were perfectly to task, but only one aspect of it all actually surprises him. For a moment, his eyes drift downward, ponderous, fingertips tapping against his throat at a slow, measured rhythm. ]

You all managed to kill Lucifer, then.

[ ...And finally, there's a beat spent not in mourning, but on millennia of lost context. Had the world changed much in his absence? Probably in the details and around the edges, but by broad strokes, evolution was a stagnating process. It would be more of the same, innovation slowing to a trickle as the entire world plateaued, and Belial's report is likely little more than inanities peppered through the bland script of Sky Realm history.

But he'd have demanded a summary again anyway. He resolves the whole matter with a nod, robes flowing behind him as he starts moving again. He grabs a varied bouquet of small, bright flowers to test what might be poisonous, depositing it with the rest of his goods. ]

Provide me with an account on everything later. [ All 2000 years. Belial's doublespeak often made eavesdropping a non-issue, but it's just too much to cover on one marketplace stroll.

Which raises another, less crucial matter. His voice somehow turns even more bone-dry than usual. ] Where can I expect to find you? Taking up roost in some stranger's bed, no doubt?

[raws]

[ "Managed" to kill Lucifer is about right, a most hilarious series of events that he's sure would either draw a chuckle from Lucilius or a sigh of disappointment. It's no surprise the efficiency with which Lucilius digests all of this information, and Belial follows after him again, stepping in closer to his side this time, their arms brushing unnecessarily until Lucilius decides he's had enough and moves away.

Despite their grocery shopping, Belial hasn't given much thought to where their living quarters are going to be, having accepted the identification and the instructions that they could simply walk up to a home and claim it with ease and thereafter banishing the question from his mind. He assumes that Lucilius would prefer a laboratory over a home regardless, and so that is where Belial's thoughts had remained.

The question therefore, gets a genuine laugh out of him. (Why would Lucilius assume Belial would be anywhere other than at his side?) ]

Really, Faa-san. I'd be much happier in your bed, whether there's room for me in it or not. [ His tone is as flirtatious as ever, but dead serious in its intent. ] Are you really going to let me go when there's so much to get started?

[ Lucilius is brilliant and capable, but his mind is better spent on work other than menial labour, and Belial can only imagine that he would need assistance now more than ever when he has to start his work entirely from nothing. Though Belial has no issues with sweet talking his way into someone's home if the need arises. (And it might, he feels hunger and thirst in a way that he's not familiar with, he knows what other needs he might succumb to.) ]

[vanitas]

[ He wants to live in a library, a laboratory, a museum, a house of worship—any hall where he might absorb what makes this world and its people tick. But he also needs a base of operations. While he'd planned to take a space for himself, Belial's arrival and presence would (mostly) make his life that much easier in the day-to-day.

It doesn't mean he has to look thrilled about it. Probably because he's never been happy about anything, ever. The corners of his mouth dip into a frown, and once again he ignores the less than subtle implications to cut at the quick. ]

Let you go...? [ It's true that angels were beasts of burden, but they were slaves to their roles, not their creator. Lucilius sounds exasperated as he waves off his words with a flick of his wrist. ] What difference does it make if I invite or dismiss you?

[ Belial could help him, or he could not. Lucilius didn't care either way—nor has he really ever understood the deeper mechanisms of his loyalty, however steadfast it may be. He surmised once that it was some ingrained and compulsive need to be useful, but he's uncertain if that theory could really hold water anymore. ]

You'd find some way to indulge your whims regardless.

[raws]

[ If Belial were a normal man, speaking to the love of his life, he'd likely be disappointed by the obvious indifference. But he's known the reality of Lucilius affection, or lack thereof, since the moment he'd been created. Their creator had never looked at any of them as anything more than tools. Not even Lucifer, arguably the closest thing that Lucilius had to an equal, could draw a reaction out of him with his death.

The dismissal doesn't discourage Belial any, and he continues to look upon Lucilius with the same satisfied smile. ]

It would make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. [ This might be true, or half-true, or just a lie.

Again, a pleased laugh escapes him. ]

Ah, I love how well you know me, Faa-san. But what about you? Your plan?

[vanitas]

[ For all that he 'knows' Belial—he'd built him from scratch, piece by piece and inch by inch—he's still confusing. But Lucilius doesn't care to understand that deeply, either. He comprehends what he needs to: his strengths, his limitations, the aspects where he shines and fails as a utility to be exploited.

The rest is irrelevant, but at the very least, he doesn't distrust him. Giving away the blueprints of one plan wasn't such a risk when he could make a hundred others anyway. He speaks openly, browsing more wares as he mulls aloud softly. ]

My priority is to return to the Sky Realm and resume from there. [ Whether that took a week, a year, or a millennium. ] I doubt the Omnipotent is the one who cast us here, dormant as he is—perhaps he has no hand in this place at all. Any judgment I render now would be too hasty to be credible.

[ Should another body of people in another body of stars worship a different god, and evolve along countless routes of possibility, then maybe there'd be no need for his finale at all. It seemed unlikely, though. Cosmetics aside, this place didn't seem to function so differently than their 'home' and its miserable, stagnant cycling. Lucilius' tone steels over, knifelike in its sudden severity. ]

But if he created this stage as well, I'll demolish it.

[ With that established, he casually dumps another bundle of herbs into Belial's growing pile of materials, no longer interested in repeating what should be an obvious mission statement. ]

I assume you have the chroma to pay for these.

[raws]

[ Belial wonders which version of Lucilius he'd end up with if they jumped through another dimensional rift. Perhaps an even younger Lucilius? Before he'd created any of the primal beasts, or before the Astrals had arrived in the Sky Realm?

(The uncertainty is thrilling, but he's not sure if he'd want Lucilius to forget their time together, as fun as it would be to be remind him of all those memories with a redo.)

With his arms full like this (and getting fuller), Belial can't get at his device to check just how much chroma he has, but he doesn't doubt that it's enough for this paltry collection of vegetation. But Lucilius doesn't need to know that, and Belial's not above using the situation to his benefit. ]

I might be a little short. [ Which is all the warning that Lucilius gets before Belial is leaning over to press an uncharacteristically chaste kiss to his cheek. It's unusually soft for a creature like him, but he's smart enough to know what he can get away with in public before Lucilius will land a punch through his stomach.

Satisfied, he straightens up before sauntering over to the checkout. ]

That should do it. For now.

[vanitas]

[ He's surprised, halting in place for a moment before his lips purse into a very thin line, a scolding parked at the tip of his tongue. He wouldn't stammer over something as trivial as a kiss, and it's true that he probably can't afford much right now (though if any of the new arrivals could, it'd be Belial), but Lucilius only ever tolerated his ridiculous 'affections' in private. Not even a full day together and he's proving to be a nuisance.

But in the end, it's a small price to pay for convenience. Besides, an odd buzz of warmth lingers on his cheek even after Belial's pulled back, which affirms that this moonlacing business was real. Still, he moves along briskly with a chiding click of his tongue. ]

2000 years has made you bold, Belial. Perhaps you're due for some calibrations.

[ Not that he could ever hope to fix this mess of an angel. But a little disdain and a shallow threat are enough to set the matter aside and pull him along. They had plenty more to see and accomplish before the day is done, and he's not keen on wasting any more time on a nice stroll through the park. ]