FINAL TDM.

[ximilian]

● ● ● T D M . 10

UP & AT EM • SPACE STAYTION • KNOCK KNOCK • FYI

// PART I. up & at em  

… What are you willing to do to erase your regret from existence?

The words ring in your ears as in the darkness of your dream, a copper 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.

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// PART II. space staytion  

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. The illusion has been programmed to reflect the seasons — the leaves in the trees are currently bright with all the colours of autumn: orange and red and yellow; and the air is crisp and clean. If you follow the path, you'll be led to a bridge rising over a sparkling, babbling brook, a few fallen leaves floating on the water and falling around you like very bright raindrops.

With an illusion so authentic it may leave you longing for a nice glass of ice-cold lemonade, 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.

// VIVECA

Hello, everyone. I hope you've had time to rest, and those new here have got used to being here. Those who’ve been here for longer know the deal, but to the new arrivals: we've got a drop of new supplies. I hope all of you find useful things among them. Anything specifically requested will come with a name tag. We're working on locating the next orb, but in the meantime... I hope those who have just returned get some rest, and those who have just arrived read up on what is expected of you during missions.

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!

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// PART III. knock knock  

Maybe you have taken the warning to be ready seriously, or maybe you’ve heard someone mention the simulation room and want to see what the fuss is all about — whatever the reason for your walking into the room, the first few moments don’t seem too exciting. It isn’t until there’s another person in the room with you that the door suddenly slides shut, and the scenery starts to change.

7.0   Simulation on the Fritz: However, what it changes to is not one of the simulated missions. Instead, the room draws on its occupants. A little flash of memory here, a familiar scene there — the room molds itself after what one (or both) of the people in it know, perhaps a place they’re familiar with: the university library you used to spend hours and hours in studying, or the castle you’ve been trying all your life to conquer.

Or perhaps the room is torn between which person’s memories to draw on, and it ends up producing a strange mix of both: a busy street surrounded by lush forest instead of buildings, or a spaceship sailing on open sea.

As there is no simulated mission, there is no completing it to get out… so look for the little things that are not quite right in the simulation: a shimmer in the air, a grey brick in a red wall — a token of sorts. Finding it will make the simulation die down around you as the room goes dark again.

8.0   Mission — An Open Door: As the simulation starts, the scene that unfolds around you is a gilded hallway. It stretches on and on behind you and in front of you; along its sides, there are countless doors. Some are lavishly decorated, some made of pure gold, some of wood; some are decayed, looking like they might fall apart by mere touch; after a heavily reinforced door comes a door made of frosted glass… and so on.

But the longer you stand in place, the more you start to feel a sense of urgency: you must keep moving… you must find it. The orb. It’s there, behind one of the doors. All you have to do is choose which one to open.

Oh, you can open as many as you want, but be careful: you never know what is lurking behind them. It may be that you open one and step into a room that is nothing but air; it may be you unleash a horde of hungry monsters. Or perhaps you luck out and get a room that is just a room, with lavish couches and plush pillows, and maybe some grapes and apples set in a bowl in the middle of a gold-decorated table.

It’s not just the orb that you need to find, though... because just like in real missions, you receive a message that tells you your task — one that you have to complete, if you want the orb to help you in your quest to undo your regret.

● ● ●

N O T E:   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   Tell someone what you are most ashamed of.

B   Let a teammate get injured during the mission.

C   Steal something from one of the rooms.

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F Y I

• TDM threads can be considered game canon so long as all parties involved agree to it.
• TDM threads can be used as samples for apps. In fact, we encourage it!
• Reserves are now open!
• Apps open September 26.
• For any questions regarding TDM, please direct them here. For questions about the game, please refer to the FAQ.

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FOR SOME FUN:
Have a clue about the upcoming mission—

▶ NAV

Comments

Brandon Carver | The Walking Dead

[fortitudosalutis]

Up & At Em: Infirmary

[ Dying, it turns out, hurts like a motherfucker. It wasn’t peaceful, it wasn’t quite, it was a brutal edge and a predictable end, about as close to karma as a man can get. The pain should have been a lesson but it wasn’t, it was too little too late and then, at the very end, it just stopped.

Everything goes quiet. And then, that voice in his head. Murmuring about regrets. And then—

And then.

Carver wakes up rough. But he wakes up alive, and scrabbling for a weapon. There are none at hand. But there are other things: walls, and light, and clean sheets underneath him. The smell of antiseptic. White curtains hanging down from the ceiling. And for a moment, Carver is too shocked to move. He can’t remember the last time he was in a proper infirm, the kind with medicine stocked in all corners, so clean that you can smell the soap.

It feels like a dream. It cannot possibly be real. He scrabbles up so fast he nearly pitches over onto his ass. ]

What the fuck!

Space Station: Armory

[ It’s occurred to Carver that this whole thing could be a fever dream, something his dying brain conjured up to dance away from his failure. Something impossible to distract from the inevitable end, and the fact that God so clearly does not love him. But then, failure has an inevitable sort of outcome and his stands stark. He touches an absent hand to his chest, tracing over the new scar under his shirt from the kid’s blade: a promise all his own. Maybe none of this is real. Maybe this is Hell.

Then again, maybe the mission is exactly that it appears. Maybe he really did hear a voice in his head promising an end to his regrets. Maybe that shit was as solid as the word of God, or Pope’s hands on his shoulders guiding him true.

Hard to say at this point.

But if it is real and not some figment of a broken goddamn brain, then he has a job to do. And the first part of that is arming himself. This place sets his teeth on edge, all clean edges and opulence, but even ten years plus out of the end of the world and he still knows how to manage a touch screen.

First, he creates a knife. He’s holding it in hand, testing the blade against his palm, when someone else walks in and Carver goes very still. He adjusts his grip on the blade, shifting into a ready stance. Anyone alive is a threat to him and his. Best be ready to kill them.

Hi, stranger. ]

Part II: Kitchen

[ It’s been more than a decade since he’s been anywhere—even in his daydreams—with this much food. Carver spends a good two minutes opening all the cabinets and staring at what he finds inside them. No one is trying to hoard their food, or keep it under lock and key. Nothing is rotting or expired. There’s nearly everything he could think to want, and more.

So much more.

Two minutes he stares. Then he snaps out of it and goes to work gathering up nonperishables and shoving them into his pockets. He’s finished gathering up his stash when someone else happens to wander in and Carver—quite practically, in his mind—draws the knife he wears at his hip in unspoken warning: this is his food now. ]

Part III: Simulation on the Fritz (cw: gore)

[ He doesn’t understand how this place but Carver knows training simulations, combat rooms, walls erected and moved to set up certain scenarios. It’s the same principal, he thinks, taken to a storybook extreme. He stands very still as he takes in the scene. Half of it is familiar—the hollowed streets of Meridian, with bodies strung up and hanging from their ankles from rope, swaying in the wind. And half something else, something stranger—no place he’s ever been.

The world blurs. The world goes strange.

Carver draws his pistol without a word. Above him, dead men sway, and sway, and sway. ]

Come out. Now.

Wildcard

[ Hit me up at mirrorfaded if you’re in the mood for something else. ]

slams my face here because TWD!!!!!!!!!! also II

[coordination]

[ Yzak steps into the kitchen just as this theft is taking place. It's unbelievable to see but only for a moment, because he quickly realizes that he doesn't recognize this guy.

Still, Yzak himself is reactive enough and while it's true that they tend to always have good stock here, there've been times they had to ration and it's not like they can be willy-nilly careless with what they've got. AND THUS: ]

What the hell do you think you're doing!?

[ His eyes fall to the knife in the other man's hand, and while he draws no weapon himself (though he's got a couple on him) he does shift his stance into a more defensive one. One ready to move if he needs to. ]

:D

[fortitudosalutis]

[ And like clockwork, there's someone in proximity to do something about this. Carver just bares his teeth, grinning wide like an animal. This is the most food he's seen in years - stuck in this place with its shiny-new walls and clean floors, everything spotless and smelling faintly of cleaning supplies.

It sets his teeth on edge, how much these people have. How little they guard it. Like it means nothing.

He was like that once. He didn't know what he could lose. But God taught him that lesson, in the end. It's not one Carver intends to repeat. You protect your own. You protect yourself. ]

Got something to say?

look im feral for twd im SO HAPPY

[coordination]

Yeah I've got something to say! [ He snaps back. ]

Why the fuck are you taking all that? You realize you can't cook in your room!

[fortitudosalutis]

Oh, fuck off.

[ There's something dangerously wrong with these people. They don't guard their resources, they don't secure their quarters. Anything could happen in a place like. The enemy could come through in the dark and kill the slow ones in their sleep, take all their shit, leave them to starve and die ugly. Don't they know that? Haven't they learned the lesson by now?

Disturbingly, it occurs to Carver that maybe they haven't. His lip curls. ]

Back off.

3

[bindsthedead]

[Sabriel steps into view, eerily pale and dressed in sword and mail, bell-bandolier buckled on above her blue surcoat.]

I'm not hiding.

[Sabriel's half of the simulation is strange- endless ankle deep water, a horizon that goes on forever... and stars. Countless stars, some so densely packed that they seem like a luminous cloud.

And while Sabriel doesn't draw her sword, or reach for the bells, she's clearly on guard, her fingers twitching, her stance shifting and widening as she eyes the corpses. There's a glimmer on her forehead, hidden behind her hair, and the air around her shimmers as she reaches into the Charter, grasping for marks of shielding.]

So unless you think there's something dangerous about, please, put the gun away.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ You're not supposed to be here either, Carver thinks, but he doesn't do the smart thing and shoot this woman in the head. He just stares at her, and watches as their surroundings twist and shift into something stranger. Familiar and not-familiar, a fever dream of imagery that makes sense and doesn't at the same time. He knows this place, the stink of decay and the sound of groaning rope, and he doesn't. He knows this place but not this woman, in her nice clean armor, wearing bells of all goddamn things like that won't get her ass killed the moment she goes out beyond the wall.

But the place beyond Meridian-not-Merdian is a dark horizon, stretching out forever under stars he doesn't recognize.

It sets his teeth on edge. Everything does here. ]

There's something dangerous everywhere. The fuck is wrong with you?

[bindsthedead]

[The stench of rotting bodies is far too familiar- but at least these ones aren't moving, aren't trying to tear her throat out. Aren't even real, just figments conjured up by a malfunctioning simulator, for all that they tug at her death-sense.]

This is a simulation. One made from our memories.

[Sabriel's tone is clipped and businesslike as she moves sideways with a steady gate, not approaching, and not fleeing, even as she keeps one eye on him, and one on her surroundings, keeping the shielding spell up. If he shoots at her, well, the bullet will just ricochet.

This man is a crew member, Sabriel reminds herself. Someone she may end up working with on the next mission, so better to avoid a fight. She just needs to make it clear that violence is a bad idea.]

You wouldn't happen to have seen the control panel, would you? I've had my fill of corpses, lately.

[Especially after how the last mission ended.]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He ought to dart up and slit her throat, Carver knows. Spare the ammunition and do it quick and quiet, and never think of her again. It's just what people do now. But there's a mission here, a greater calling beyond reflex and instinct, no matter how much it sets his teeth on edge.

Focus, Carve, Shaw's voice murmurs in his ear. He twitches like a horse shaking a bur, but he doesn't lunge for the stranger. Just stares after her, waiting for the moment she goes for him. She will by the end. Everyone does.

But maybe not just yet. She has a mission, too. ]

No. How do we find it?

[ His voice is flat, edging onto anger. But focused. ]

III

[blackfire]

（ the scene is familiar-and-not. dead bodies sway, and far above them is a red that's so thick it seems like nothing else so much as blood. itachi is standing a short distance away, though it is difficult to say when he arrived or how. there were no footfalls to denote an approach, and even now he is barely discernible from a statue. he's dressed simply in dark blues, long hair drawn back into a low tail.

in the distance, there is a monument carved into the side of a mountain, hazy with the hue of the sky.

itachi lowers his gaze from the sky, and cants his head faintly towards the man. his eyes are a colour that's nearly as vivid as the sky, faintly backlit like the flicker of candlelight set behind a pane of vermillion glass. ）

I apologize. The room appears to be malfunctioning.

（ his voice is deep and smooth, politely neutral. ）

[fortitudosalutis]

[ The sky twists red, red, red, and - not for the first time - Carver wonders if he's in Hell. If this is finally the reckoning, God's punishment for his failure and all his many sins, if he'll be sentenced to walk through this dead-eyed version of Meridian again and again until he gets it right and fixes shit that cannot be fixed. The bodies sway and sway and sway, the ropes creaking overhead and the rot stink somehow hangs heavier than he remembers: you can get blind to these things, he knows. You can get used to them.

He doesn't know any of the people swaying above him. That wasn't the point. They were just in front of him, a mission to be completed. And now they're rotting out under a red sun, a warning to the rest of the goddamn world, a promise unfulfilled.

Pope would be so disappointed in him. But now there's a motherfucker moving cat quiet, or quieter through the ground.

This isn't right. This is Meridian and not-Meridian at the same time, with a mountain in the back like Rushmore except the faces are wrong. It doesn't make sense. So little of this does.

In that respect, calling it Hell doesn't seem like much of a stretch. Carver narrows his eyes at the pale motherfucker with the red eyes, some stranger moving too quiet - entirely too goddamn quiet - but he doesn't bring the weapon up to bear. Doesn't shoot him in the head to end this. That's probably a sin. ]

How?

[ It comes out short, and cool. ]

[blackfire]

（ his attention lifts to that distant monument, and his mouth thins to a line. ）

I cannot say with certainty. The grasp of such technology is beyond me.

（ he understands illusory skills well enough, and the fact that their brain is being engaged with lines of code that generates sensation. but he has not cared to grasp it more fulsomely, as he spends very little time in this room at all. ）

In the past, it has been to our benefit to identify an aberrant item in the landscape.

[fortitudosalutis]

Aberrant how?

[ That could mean so many goddamn things. Carver knows Meridian, but he doesn't know the red sky or the carved stone on the horizon. There's too much he doesn't know. It nags at him. A clear shortcoming he can't see a way to fix. ]

ii

[lostdestiny]

[ This teenage boy on a would-be snack run has faster reflexes than mental processing power, and automatically, thoughtlessly slips a knife out from his uniform coat into his own hand in response. Shinn's draw and the way he shifts into a fighting stance reflect a practiced, competent, trained fluidity -- but to anyone with an eye for it, the movements are absolutely just trained. Sure, he was at the top of his academy class in knifework, but he's never been in a real knife fight. That lack of real-world experience keeps him in a defensive posture for a second, long enough to belatedly assess the situation.... ]

-- the hell? I'm not going to fight you over beans, you crazy bastard!

[ It comes out in an indignant squawk. Also, he shows zero possessiveness toward the food -- almost no interest in it, other than disbelief that Carver is so invested in it. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ There's a kid in the doorway, knife in hand. This one, at least, reacts how Carver's expecting. It's familiar - almost comforting, because it means at least one truth of the world hasn't been completely sundered apart. Carver's grin goes toothy, but he doesn't lunge. Doesn't do a damn thing but stand there in a loose ready stance, and grin.

Hi, stranger. Maybe they'll kill each other now over the shit in the cabinets. Tale as old as time. ]

Cool. Then back the fuck up.

[lostdestiny]

You started it, you back up.

[ Alas, he is too much of a defiant cranky asshole to move right away, even though rationally he knows that the guy's casual stance means danger and the grin means he'd probably enjoy a fight. Shinn's not giving any sign that he's about to make a move of his own, though. ]

What're you even doing?

[ There's a clear note of straight-up bewilderment under his loud-mouthed annoyance. Access to food wasn't a major concern even after his family died, so it will take a few more context clues for his empathy circuits to come online. ]

[morethan084]

[Daisy wanders into the kitchen to make coffee if it hasn't been made already, and maybe it's because she's half asleep but it takes her a comically long time to realize this stranger sees her as a threat and has his knife out.

Her eyes land on his knife and then she looks to his face, not looking as worried as she probably should be.]

What are you doing?

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Someone isn't quite awake, are they? Carver watches silently, eyes narrowed, mouth set into a disapproving line. You lost your situational awareness like that, the enemy will get you on the ground and you'll deserve what they do to you there. Even now, he can hear Pope's voice in his ear, repeating the lesson all soft and calm. You know that, don't you, son?

Yes, sir. ]

Standing here. There always this much food?

[morethan084]

With a knife held like you’re about to slash someone?

[It wouldn’t the first time, or even the fiftieth time, that Daisy has disarmed someone. But he hasn’t made a move yet, and it’s clear he’s new here.]

Usually, yeah. And there’s way better things to pick from than canned corn.

kitchen because why not have MORE fade in my inbox;

[choicely]

[ Yennefer, herself a professed disaster in the kitchen, tends to leave most of the actual cooking to people who have a skill for it; instead, she'll reach for something that doesn't require substantial preparation. In this particular instance, it's an apple from the bowl of fruit she currently has her eyes on, and she strides into the kitchen, skirt swishing around her ankles, with every intention of getting to it before anyone else can.

Having a knife brandished in her direction isn't part of the plan, but regardless of whether she's only able to tap into half her power on the station, she's still more than capable of defending herself in a fight, and one hand rises defensively, as she starts to gather the air around them, enough to stir the ends of her hair. If she has to wield it, she will, but she doesn't really want it to come to that point. ]

You don't want to do that. [ Not stealing the food, necessarily; she couldn't care less what he does with it, but she imagines Viveca would frown on one person stabbing another over an easily resolved issue. ]

:D

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Something shifts in the air. Like a pressure change. Carver doesn't flinch or lunge forward, but the threat assessment changes immediately. This woman is dangerous. If it comes to something, he'll have to take her down quickly.

That might just be a problem. He's been told teamwork is part of the game here. ]

Don't I? Back the fuck off.

can't help myself

[choicely]

[ If she wanted to, she could draw enough air out of the room to make it more difficult for him to breathe, make it harder for him to maintain that firm grip he already has on his knife — but she doesn't.

Sometimes, the threat of doing something is sufficient enough without actually needing to carry it out, and she's been on the station over a year now without raising Viveca's ire. She's not about to start now, brows rising subtly in response to his words. ]

So, are you planning on raiding the entire kitchen, or will you leave some left over for the rest of us?

wildcard;

[hallowing]

（ cy, being cy, is currently aiming to take the crown of ximilia's most obnoxious from whoever's currently holding it (you know who). which is why he's sitting exactly outside carver's door (against it, really) with his guitar, a bottle of what might actually be weapons grade absinthe, and happens to be bellowing at the top of his lungs:

do you like piña coladas? or gettin' caught in the rain?

is he drunk? maybe.

did he have a target in mind when he went on this little tear? absolutely not. enjoy his off-kilter caterwauling, or... you know, don't? ）

[fortitudosalutis]

Oh my God, shut the fuck up!

[ It's not like Carver never lived in the barracks, never had to get used to having people underfoot at all hours of the day, most of them loud and obnoxious, very few of whom he liked. But that was then, before the end of the goddamn world where being loud means the dead will hear and come groaning and hungry to wreck your shit: you cannot be loud unless you mean to body the damage.

Here, it seems no one's learned that lesson. Seems like they've missed a whole lot of lessons.

It's been three days since Carver woke up after playing Lazarus. He hasn't slept more than a few hours since. And apparently now is not the time to break the streak, thanks to this obnoxious motherfucker.

Carver throws a boot at the door, in the meantime. ]

[hallowing]

（ he's made it on to do you like makin' love at midnight when the boot hits the door, and cy just reaaaaaaaaches up. slaps his hand against the door panel. and then, as it slides sideways into its little niche alcove, he just flops backwards half into the room. ）

Baby, you wanna give me a round of applause all you gotta do is ask.