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SPRING TDM.
● ● ● T D M . 0 8
The words ring in your ears as in the darkness of your dream, a teal glow pulses, slowly enveloping you. It is not a feeling of comfort that surrounds you, though — as a distorted voice whispers in your ear, you feel it: cold dread, and a sudden certainty that everything is about to be irrevocably changed.
It is to this daunting realization that you wake, and as your heart slows into something resembling a normal tempo, you notice something you should have noticed immediately: you are not in your bed.
1.0 White walls, clinical yet clean, sparsely-furnished rooms. You may wake in one of three rooms: a room with only one bed, a room with two beds, or a room with four beds. Those waking up in rooms with more than one bed notice that they are very much not alone. Perhaps the other occupants of the room are still sleeping, dreaming the same dream as you just did, or a regular one after returning to the station just a few days ago … or perhaps you wake to the other person in the room watching you.
What you do is entirely up to you: yell in surprise when you wake to someone staring at you? Or maybe you’ll try to sneak away before anyone notices you...
2.0 Those with life-threatening injuries find themselves awakening in the infirmary, in a regular hospital bed. Most of their injuries have been treated, and any lingering illnesses or conditions will have designated medicine bottles on the table next to the bed.
White curtains surround the bed on both sides, giving an illusion of privacy. But is that a rustling sound you hear? Some footsteps? Perhaps you’re not the only one in need of some medical attention... or you've attracted the attention of those with experience in medical aid, and they rush to your bedside, surprised about this sudden new patient.
It is not just for your injuries that you may want some company, but also for leaving the infirmary — you can’t stay there forever, after all, and will have to make your way through the hallways of the station to the living quarters, and claim a room and a bed there.
Once you’re up, you may notice there’s something in your ear: an earpiece that, when you become aware of it, quickly runs you through the instructions for how to use the network, a recorded message by a female voice that explains exactly why you’re here… and leaves you with a map of the station.
So what else is there to do but to explore? Best get to know what is now your new home.
3.0 When trying to decide where yo go, you may find your way to the armory, where you can try to work the machine there to make yourself a weapon — perhaps to replace one that didn’t come with you to the station… or maybe you want to be prepared for the future. The recently-returned team members will surely recommend having a functional weapon with you.
4.0 After you’ve exhausted yourself training, it’s time to grab a bite. For that, you should head to the kitchen, which is equipped with all the basic appliances you might need, and ingredients for most regular dishes.
5.0 A welcome reprieve to the cold, dark space that surrounds the characters can be found in the sunlight room. A skillful illusion surrounds anyone who steps inside the room: you can hear the trilling of birds, feel a light breeze caress your skin as you walk through a grass field. It seems that the illusion reflects the season — the leaves have fallen, a layer of white covers the ground, and the air is crisp and clean. If you follow the path, it leads to where a bridge rises over a brook that has now iced over — but maybe don't try your luck walking on it, as the ice may crack underneath your feet and you'll find yourself plunging into the freezing water.
With an illusion so authentic it may leave you longing for some hot chocolate, it is easy to forget you are in space at all. Perhaps that gives you comfort, or just makes you miss the real nature all the more.
6.0 If you’d rather choose tinkering over nature, the lab is guaranteed to provide you with some entertainment. Glass vials and jars of chemicals sit on shelves in a surprisingly beautiful display of colour on one side of the room, while the other side of the room contains stacks of boxes containing assorted equipment: cords, bolts, panels, buttons, gears, gadgets, gizmos, and thingamabobs. The downside is that the parts available seem to have no apparent method to their sorting. So get digging, and you may just find exactly what you need to make what you’ve always wanted to make!
7.0 As you wander back towards the common areas, you may notice a room off to the side. The room takes up a chunk of the common area, and on its unassuming door is a little plaque that reads, 'The Ximusic room'. Should you enter, you will find a sound-proofed practice room that contains — yes, you guessed it, band equipment that even the most musically inclined should be satisfied with. So pick up an instrument, saunter up to the microphone to belt out your favourite tunes, or take a seat at the side of the room and enjoy others' playing.
8.0 If it’s items you’re lacking, though, some time after your arrival, the earpiece alerts you to a new message.
As you make your way to the platform, you'll see there is nothing amiss in the neat piles of items on it. There’s clothes, shoes, dishware, skincare, books… even a couple of CDs, and a few cute stuffed animals. So sort through what there is and grab what you want, before someone else does!
(CW: POTENTIAL BODY MODIFICATION)
Whether you’re a quick study and you’ve become settled into life on the station, or you want to get the full lay of the land (in a manner of speaking) first, if you decide to explore the hall past the control room, you’ll eventually come across the simulation room.
Step past the threshold and the doors will slide shut with a quiet woosh. Nothing suspicious; nothing to worry about. But before you can really get a sense of your environment (a grey, large-ish empty room, no furniture, no discernable objects to provide markers), the room goes dark, and then … there’s really no other way to describe it: the room transforms.
You find yourself in a club. The music is upbeat, loud, but not too loud. Down a short flight of steps flanking the bar and seating is the open floor with more tables and booths bathed in a warm, dim glow of light, and at the very end of the room is a stage with its bright spotlight showcasing its performers — though, at the moment, the stage is empty.
9.0 When you take a step forward, you’ll feel a presence gently push at your chest or your shoulder — a tall and jovial man resembling a well-dressed bartender from the top up (the rest of him appears to move along wheels) approaches with a tall flute glass in hand. Its contents are sparkly and blue.
Will you proceed? Please respond ‘Yes’ or ‘No’.”
There’s something a little strange about his voice, a cadence that doesn’t sound quite natural even when the simulation is so realistic otherwise. Once you’ve given your consent, the bartender continues.
10.0 It seems the bartender wasn’t lying. Once you’ve allowed the drink (tasty, sweet-but-not-too-sweet, effervescent, with light notes of your fondest childhood memory) to settle in your stomach you might experience a myriad of effects on your body, ranging from a change in skin colour (pink? green? blue with spots?), an additional limb or two (or three), a tail or wings, or cybernetic parts such as lie-detecting eyes or a tongue that can uncover truths and lies in others. If you happen to find another Orber within the room and both of you have consumed the offered drink, you might find yourself experiencing a full bodyswap.
None of the changes are painful; if anything, they might not even be noticeable until you look into a mirror, look down at your limb-in-question, or your companion points it out.
11.0 The moment you approach the stage, a performer will appear as if out of thin air and begin to sing, her voice strong and smoky and melodic. Her enthralling performance could put you into a trance, but you have an orb to find and a personal task to accomplish, so it’s time to put your best foot forward and do a little investigating.
Talking to some of the patrons might prove fruitful as some of them are convinced that the stage has never sounded or looked so good, like there’s something giving performers that extra oomph that no one can explain. It might be wise to wait until that last performance before you sneak up there — or maybe you want to do a little snooping around now, you know, while everyone’s distracted. Strategize with your fellow Orbers and uncover the location of this hidden orb.
● ● ●
N O T E: The effects of the drink and the level of changes your character experiences is entirely up to you. Patrons of this fine club won’t bat an eye if you look a little like them.
Additionally, there are three personal tasks provided to each character as they enter the simulation. In-game, each character will be given one task. For the purposes of the test drive, we’re leaving it to players to pick a task for their character and run with it.
A Say the opposite of what you mean during the simulation.
B Create a scene with an unsuspecting teammate.
C Get up on stage and put on a performance during the simulation.
F Y I
• TDM threads can be used as samples for apps. In fact, we encourage it!
• Reserves open February 19!
• Apps open February 24.
• For any questions regarding TDM, please direct them here. For questions about the game, please refer to the FAQ.
FOR SOME FUN:
Have a clue about the upcoming mission—
dr. stephen strange . mcu
4.0 - kitchen.
[ In the kitchen, the sounds of activity. You wouldn't be exaggerating to think there were a small team of chefs working away at a meal, but enter and you'll find just the one man cooking.
One man and his small army of self-operating appliances and utensils: knives chopping tomatoes on a chopping board that helpfully provides itself, bread pushing itself into a toaster, water pouring itself over salad leaves. The only part Stephen seems to be handling manually is the dropping of strips of bacon into a pan, monitoring them as they sizzle happily away. ]
Put your order in quickly if you're hungry.
[ He's making BLTs, this is the only order he will accept. ]
7.0 - music room
[ It takes a few days for Stephen to finally seek out the distraction of the music room. He's been in once before on his exploration of the station, but when his third night in space brings no rest his wandering eventually finds him seated at the piano stool.
Magic courses through his hands, easing neural pathways that usually snarl with pain, creating routes where damage has severed them, and with this help he begins to play. He struggles a little in places, the rhythm of it dips and halts and notes he aims for are replaced with easier alternatives, but the song is forgiving, and he's absorbed enough in the playing that he won't notice as anyone else comes in. ]
🔮 // PART III —
10.0 - the club
[ The drink goes down too easy but it doesn't matter. This isn't real, there are no Sands of Nisanti hidden amongst the bubbles, let what happens happen.
What he doesn't know is that his newly cybernetic eyes are, among possible other things, lie-displaying. White lies he tells slowly bleach the color from his irises, more deliberate untruth turns them a bright gold. Which is going to come in handy if he can just figure it out, because his task in here is to say the opposite of what he means.
It's a simulation, but its realism is impressive. So, with that in mind, Stephen makes his way to the bartender for a glass of something less transformative. Catch him at the bar, sipping on a martini and watching the crowd with eyes that pierce gold. ("Nothing," he'd told the bartender when asked how he could help, and ended up subtly stealing a water to transform into liquor when the barkeep was off delivering more flutes.)]
🔮 // NETWORK —
un: strange
If you see/have seen a cloak flying around - red fabric, blue patch - kindly let me know where and when
I wouldn't try to contain it, it's in a mood
( open to anything else too! if you'd like to plot anything out, feel free to hit me up at
music room;
In many other cases, she would simply draw her robe around herself and continue on without stopping — but in this one, she pauses at the doorway, listening, letting herself take in the unfamiliar song. She doesn't recognize the set of shoulders at the instrument, and she doesn't believe she should — though with the latest round of disappearances, perhaps she should have expected new bargains would be struck, and new faces would arrive along with them.
And though she doesn't intend on staying long, as the music continues she finds herself remaining, having something to focus on that isn't her own thoughts for as long as he conjures the song from the keys.
It isn't just the notes that keep her, though — it's the distant sense of something attached to them, a power unlike anything she's felt here, and curiosity compels her above all to linger. ]
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All this he takes in over a couple of silent seconds. A deep breath to draw him back to himself... a breath out to straighten in his seat.
Alright. Time to flex his poorly-trained muscle for making friends. ]
Solitude, also known as (In My) Solitude, first recorded by Duke Ellington on January 10th 1934, second version's release reaching number 2 in the 1935 charts.
[ He twists, enough that he can look over at his unsolicited middle of the night company. ]
Not quite the same version, obviously.
[ His smile is mild, tinged with sleeplessness and the dim awareness that maybe that isn't the way you start a conversation - but trying, nonetheless, to not be actively standoffish. ]
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[ Not that she would even know the difference, being unfamiliar with the song itself, so she wouldn’t be capable of identifying any places where he had either strayed from the melody or did something altogether different.
Music had not been among her pursuits learned when she was at Aretuza; there were others who had acquired knowledge of the lute, something to make them more appealing to the kings for whose realms they would serve, but she had poured her focus solely into her chaos, and that is where her true skill lies, along with her ability to navigate the politics of royal life, the self-sufficiency that would keep her from being chewed up and spit out by the more manipulative at court.
She finally steps into the room more fully, the hem of her dark dress a whisper across the floor, obsidian pendant notched above the hollow of her throat, and her steps light with her feet only clad in slippers. ] Didn’t care for the original?
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text; un: newt
I've got a lint roller with its name on it
[Is he housing a cloak fugitive in the lab????
... Maaaybe.]
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[ Joke's on you Newt, people get paid for this ]
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i've written stupider things
I believe it but I'm crying
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un: biānfú
[ That can't possibly be what he heard. This translation filter must be on the fritz. ]
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text; un: redwing
how's it going, doc?
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Captain.
Oh, you know. Nothing beats a space vacation
[ Everything beats a space vacation, he hates space. (Space is fine, he and space just have a difficult past.) ]
How are you enjoying yours?
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network; un: san lang
what sort of mood?
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4.0 - kitchen.
[It's impressive just how much chaos one man can make, though on second glance it's not chaos at all is it? Everything is organized and synchronized and working like professional kitchen.
Natasha's brows pinch together as she considers.
Sometimes it's smarter to stay out of the way.]
Maybe some chives.
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There are certain voices you have no reason to prepare to hear. Here's one. They never met, but the glance he casts over his shoulder confirms her identity all the same.
Front and centre, Stephen. There's no hint of hesitation between her request and his answer, a lift of the hand wielding a spatula to dance a couple of fingers through the air. That small gesture pulls open the fridge and out comes an avocado, the chives floating over too. ]
Seems like it. What are you after?
[ On this occasion, he can make a custom order. ]
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kitchen
[Sabriel is more interested in the magic than the food. She reaches out with her senses, trying to to understand how he's doing it- something like an invisible sending? Or he's casting several spells at once?]
A sandwich, yes. With bacon and tomatoes.
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[ Just an offer, a bacon and tomato sandwich seems like a sad situation when there's the L to the BT on offer, but he won't judge her too much if she doesn't want her greens.
The kitchenware continues to dance through its precise little tableaus and the magic that guides it has only the weight of their surroundings: concentrated, amplified. Magic, yes, born of the very energy around them harnessed to task, tinged to the trained eye with the faintest shade of amber. ]
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un: geomijul
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7
Clint's got a complicated history with magic. He can't really fight it, not directly, and he doesn't understand it. There are different types, but it's all mystical spooky shit to him. Wanda's is a particularly destructive brand, and the only reason he isn't afraid of it is because he isn't afraid of her.
(He might have to revise that sentiment, due to recent events, but he hasn't seen her since the funeral, so he can't make any true judgements.)
Strange's magic is a kind that boggles Clint, because it's self-taught, which implies literally anyone has the capacity to just learn how to make sparkly portals and astrally project themselves into other dimensions and what the fuck ever else the doc gets up to when he's not fucking around with things beyond his ken. It plays with other realities, and that always sounds like a bad idea. Beyond that, he knows Strange is - was - a doctor, and a damn good one at that, with the ego and bedside manner to match. He knows what ended that career, and that part was the easiest bit of information to find on him.
And now he's watching the man with ruined hands play piano like it's nothing.
That's not entirely true. Seems too jazzy for Clint to be sure, but it seems like sometimes Strange loses track or misses a note here and there. And given that and the casual nature of this room on a space station in the middle of nowhere, maybe he should just leave the wizard witch sorcerer warlock to it while he covers the rest of the station.
He stays, instead. Even comes to lean on the piano, feel the vibrations under his arm. Like this, Strange just seems like any other guy.] Hey, how about Freebird next?
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His relationship with Avengers past, present and possibly future is almost exclusively business. And now here they are, living in close quarters, and he's going to have to reassess that approach.
Easy enough with the new Captain America. His primary loss within their wider circle lived a full and happy life and made a reappearance to pass on a legacy. But somewhere on this station is Natasha Romanoff. And here, leaning on the piano as he really draws out the last few bars of Solitude, is a man who watched her give her life to the benefit of Stephen's bet against fate.
Solitude ends - and transitions almost seamlessly into a chord that then drags him into a few seconds of the opening strains of Freebird. But he only goes on long enough to secure the bit before his hands still and he finally looks up to acknowledge Barton, smirk a little tight for how easy it was designed to be. ]
Sorry. They're not paying me enough to take requests. [ A beat. If he were anyone else it might be called a hesitation. ] Barton.
[ Hello. How's this going to be? ]
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★ the kitchen
she's staring, confused. magic. it has to be magic, right? she knows of it but she's never seen it before. unless this is futuristic kitchen stuff that he's programmed to cook but they look pretty usual )
--how are you doing that?
( sorry, apple, you're just getting held and abandoned )
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[ He lifts one finger in the air as he turns to address her, and a knife chopping tomatoes on the surface to his left elevates until it's balancing on its very tip and begins to twirl at speed. Like he's set a basketball to spinning on the tip of his finger, only it's a chopping knife and it's many feet away.
The tug of a benign smirk says he's playing when his answer comes.]
Magic.
[ Ah, to be facetious and honest in the same breath. A gift. ]
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kitchen
Doesn't change the fact it smells great. Part of her notes this, her eyes flicking from the orchestration of moving objects and the man standing as he stood, before the oven, with the meat dropped sizzling into the pan. Part of her wonders at costs.
Part of her simply says, walk in. So she does, shoulders straightening, stride level and sure, as if this is fine. All fine. All very understandable, including her hand at her hip and the short blade there, in case the chopping knives get ideas. They probably won't. Still. )
What's on order?
( For the magic, she wonders, but she means for the food, knowing what it is for turns at the cookpot meaning what is the same for anyone lucky enough to eat, and gratitude (or ribald teasing, which were one and the same in places far, far from her grandmother's court) the coin offered and backed by deed.
Her stomach growls, and she keeps her shoulders from twitching, instead staring down the magic user of whatever flavour he may be. Daring him to acknowledge what she isn't, in the moment. )
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And his answer comes after a beat, plain and simple. ]
BLTs. [ And then, another moment later because this station is full of people from all over and not all of them can be expected to know what that is - ] Bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. If you'll promise not to stab me I can make another.
[ There's a pinch that's (barely) trying not to become a smirk at the corner of his mouth as his gaze flicks briefly down to the hand at her knife-ready hip and back up again. ]
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4 - Kitchen
This whole situation of arriving on the station has been new and weird, this is just a more familiar flavor of weird at this point.]
Uh. Whatever your making is fine by me, sir-? [How do you address a wizard who is also a doctor. Oh no.]