▶ TDM .001

[prismods]

Cybernetic dream, something like you've never seen

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"Michael Sembello - Automatic Man (original music video)" (Watch on YouTube)

▶ 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 discover the many mysteries of planet Prismatica!

TDM OVERFLOW can be found here!

Comments

[bulletpointe]

[ Amelie isn't preturbed by the way he avoids her touch. To her, he's the image of a cheshire cat --- face split by a horrendous grin, and yet, so enticing to try and touch with it's soft fur.

She let it alone. ]

Perhaps.

I dreamt of being première danseuse in my company.

How you work your whole life to be something---only to find you're better at something else.

You're right. It is freeing.

[criminallysane]

[ Joker had thought at first that Big Bird's new French accent was just a one-line joke thing, intended to make the cruel dream bit funnier. Which, of course, it did.

But no, apparently Bird's sticking with the gag, which is fine. French is the one foreign language Joker's actually decent at, so why wouldn't his hallucinating mind decide to make use of it? Sure, okay.

He switches to that, because when an enormous and obviously French bird decides to divulge its repressed ballerina fantasies, replying in English just seems rude. Joker's accent is mostly Parisian, though he clearly hasn't busted out the Français in a while. ]

< Have to play what we're dealt, don't we? Can't be helped!

But listen, if it's the spotlight you wanted, believe me: there's a lot of ways to wriggle into that!

I could maybe even help you. Especially if you're good at something interesting. >

[ He eyes her thoughtfully. ]

< You are, aren't you? You didn't discover that your true calling was for, say, corporate accounting? >

[bulletpointe]

[ Perhaps it's another illusion, a trick of her imagination. His accent is telling, but the Cheshire Cat has piqued her selective interest.

The hand we're dealt. It was a phrase that grated her mind. Not her favorite truth, by far. ]

That depends on your definition of interesting.

[ She says nothing more, only gesturing with two fingers, down an imaginary sightline, point blank. Her pantomiming taking a shot makes things obvious, without a word said.

Probably hysterical coming from Big Bird. ]

I never wanted spotlight. And I certainly don't now.

[criminallysane]

[ It's a riot, to be honest. An eight-foot-tall bright yellow feathered muppet as a stealth sniper? Trying to hide on a rooftop while Kermit and Piggy prance about, oblivious to the flashes of feathers above? And then there's that wordless delivery... Oh, Jesus take the wheel!

Joker tries--really tries--not to laugh, but he just can't help himself. He has to look away, giggling, and he rubs at the bridge of his nose with one hand as he holds the other up in surrender: I give, I give. ]

< No, no. I suppose you're enough of a spotlight all on your own, aren't you? >

[ Now ordinarily, an assassin wouldn't be of any particular interest to him, aside from the obvious amusement value of this particular one. Gotham's crawling with killers who know how to use a scope, and Joker already has a handful he thinks of as Preferred Vendors. Here, however, he doesn't know a soul, and he can definitely think of worse traveling companions and networking buddies than a killer bird. Even if this is just an Asylum-cooked hallucination, it's always a good idea to keep interesting and talented friends in one's corner.

He looks back at her, brightening. ]

< Say! You know what you need, Chicky-poo? If you don't mind my saying so.

What you need is a guy who's even flashier than you are. To keep the spotlight off of you, see. Keep the rubes distracted with a little razzle-dazzle, while you work your magic backstage! >

[bulletpointe]

[ The Cheshire Cat's grin splits further for her as he tries his best not to laugh. She chalks it up to the continued hallucination, but now the cat's offering her a job.

Was this really all as it seemed? Perhaps now the dream wasn't just cruel. ]

I am already employed, chat-de-cheshire.

'Never do anything you're good at for free.'

[ Half correct, but it was the truth to her. Brainwashing is a hell of a contract clause! ]

[criminallysane]

[ Oh, now that's interesting. Someone's already hired Birdy? Even here?

Joker's smile only gets bigger; this is wonderful news. If the Bird's got a boss, then that means that somewhere out there on this godforsaken rock, there's probably a crime network capable of doing business. Which means he's going to like this place, after all. For as long as the hallucination lasts, anyway. ]

< Who said anything about free? >

[ He moves closer to her. ]

< I'd never insult you like that.

No, what I had in mind was more of a partnership.

You know. Strange birds, flocking together for mutual profit. That sort of thing. >

[ He reaches into his jacket pocket, keeping his movements slow and deliberate lest she think he's going for a weapon, and pulls out a Joker card. ]

< Here. > [ He offers it to her with one gloved hand. ] < Just keep me in mind, hm? In case your current employer ever ceases to satisfy. >

[bulletpointe]

[ Gingerly, she takes the card. If it breaks the illusion, who knows. She's there regardless, raven hair loose and face without expression. Inwardly, she thinks how amusing.. How like the Cheshire Cat to hand her a card from a deck. ]

Unlikely, but...

[ She turns the card over in her hands. ]

Just in case. Thank you.

[criminallysane]

[ His index finger brushes the tip of hers as she takes the card. It's the sort of touch that probably would be accidental from most other men--brief, glancing--but Joker's nimble fingers know precisely what they're doing. How often does a guy get a chance to touch Big Bird, after all?

It's not enough contact to break the enchantment. Still, when Joker's finger touches Big Bird's, he could swear he sees this hallucinogenic reality warp somehow, distorting almost like the reflections in funhouse mirrors. Big Bird is Big Bird, but also much smaller. Yellow-feathered and ridiculous, but also dark-haired and strangely lovely. It reminds him of those paper discs on a string, the ones that have a canary on one side and a cage on the other, that are meant to be spun so quickly that the images combine. Just... stretched, somehow.

It's surreal as hell, even for a drug-induced whatever-this-is.

Then Big Bird takes the card, and Joker's hand jerks back a little too quickly, and reality seems steady-ish again.

His hallucinations often do weird things--walls drip, inanimate objects talk, yadda yadda--but they've never done anything quite like this before. Joker blinks at the Bird. He considers saying something stupid, probably along the lines of, Did you see that?, then has a better idea. ]

< And may I ask your name, dearest? >

[bulletpointe]

[ The touch is accidental at best to her. The sensation is similar to her, one moment there's a flicker of a man, the next, the cat has returned. It's unsettling, perhaps the beginnings of a nightmare. Her apathy remains, however. Nightmares always ended, after all.

Then comes the dilemma of her name. Would she take a new one here in this dream? Would she remain anonymous? Or simply offer her old one?

Something pawed at her better judgement. This was a dream, an illusion. All of this, a figment of her imagination, and she would wake up soon. There would be no repercussions here, right? Right. ]

Amélie.

[ In her dreams, she was usually still Amélie anyways; this was no different. ]

[criminallysane]

[ Joker had hoped that her name might give him some clue as to what his subconscious was trying to say with her. He's had more than enough hours of psychoanalysis to know that dream images are never really what they seem, after all. Dreams about water are really about emotions. Dreams about teeth often relate to issues of control or power. Dreams about bats... Well, those are sort of different, but the point still stands: If his mind has cooked up a sharpshooter Big Bird, it's because on some level, that signifies something.

The corruption of childhood images, maybe. It is sort of his shtick; Big Bird might be some proxy for a piece of his own psyche. His Jungian anima, or some such nonsense. And if she'd given him any sort of name that he could connect back to himself, that would certainly be how he'd have read things.

But Amélie? It's feminine. Straight-forward but elegant. And not in the least bit funny. It can't possibly refer to him. Why, he can't even make a good anagram out of it... ]

< Enchanted. >

[ He means this in both senses of the word. Yes, he's enchanted to meet her. And yes, something deeply screwy is clearly happening here. He knows his own mind; this is not how this game works.

The most reasonable thing to do, of course, would be to give her a little bow of his head and say goodbye. Let this glitch in the Matrix or whatever she is go on about her business of muppet-killing; it has nothing to do with him. But Joker's never been what anyone would call a strictly reasonable man, and truly novel things are something of a rarity in his life.

He's looking at her with open curiosity now, eyes slightly narrowed but not unkind. He wants to know what she is, and what that weird funhouse distortion thing was. And, if he's going to be perfectly honest about it, he wants a better look at that woman he glimpsed before, too. ]

< I don't suppose you'd let me take your hand for just a moment, Miss Amélie? >

[ He offers his, palm up, for her to take or not as she sees fit. ]

< I promise to give it back. >

[bulletpointe]

continued here!