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FINAL TDM.
● ● ● T D M . 10
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.
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.
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!
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.
F Y I
• 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.
Have a clue about the upcoming mission—
cw: murder attempt
Sometimes, shit just happens. ]
cw: ... gore?
summoning weapons out of the fucking ether? you know what, sure.
but the thing that's simultaneously both dicksuckingly good and also an enormous pain in the prostate is the fact he can't fucking die.
also: it's close to halloween and he kinda just wants to jumpscare a motherfucker.
so he just kinda lies back and thinks of england, you know?
(fucking place. never liked it. dreary, bad food, worse music.)
the knife doesn't hurt, it just kinda itches as it comes down through one eye socket, and then he makes like a possum and plays dead. dramatically. there's a theatrical dead man's twitch to one foot. eye goop oozing down the side of his face, that tinny awareness of the loss of vision and the insistent prickle against whatever part of his brain it's noodled its way into.
what now, brown cow? ）
cw: thoughts of self-harm
Absently, Carver wipes the blade off on his sleeve. There's a mess on the floor now. ]
...goddamn it, [ he mutters, because consequences are a thing and there are rules here. Different rules, bullshit rules. You pay to play, son, Pope's voice hisses in his ear, and Carver grits his teeth, one hand curled into a first and almost, almost raising to strike against his own skull. It'd hurt with the sap gloves he's wearing. But then, the important reminders always do.
There's a dead man on his floor now. He's going to have to do something about that.
Carver grits his teeth and steps over the dead man to close the door. There are probably cameras everywhere because cameras are a thing again, here, but maybe that buys him a few minutes to figure out what the fuck he's going to do about this. ]
look there's just all kinds of cws up in here
instead, he's got a few minutes of comparative peace on some dude's floor, single remaining eye staring glassily at the ceiling as he tries real hard not to blink. it's when the dude turns around in all his frantic pacing about that it hits him: game over, he's bored.
he just yawns enormously. his jaw pops, and then he reaches up and yanks the knife right on out.
his eyeball goes with it. it's like, you know, whatever.
(it'll grow back.)
he stands up to his full, imposing height and with that shishkapeeper (knife + eyeball, it's a hilarious portmanteau, suck it) he deftly scratches at the side of his head. he probably looks a fucking sight, blood and gore still dampening one side of his face, eyelid glued shut from the thick of it, but the wound is rapidly healing beneath the veil of ichor, and in a few seconds it's as if it never was.
he, like the great and powerful t-swiftie, shakes it off. ）
H'okay. Somebody's due a visit from Mr. Manners. Yikaroni. Do you need a hug, man? I'm here for you. But maybe I'm gonna pat you down first.
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Oh, Carver thinks, and then, with a sudden flash of horror: this is probably what a psychotic break feels like.
Fuck the noise. He just reacts, and draws his shiny new pistol. ]
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（ well, he has to give the guy a gold star in the persistence hunter category. it doesn't matter — he reaches out with an ounce of power and pulls. it's tricky but manageable when he can't physically see an item. when it's in plain sight? not much slows him down. the weapon disintegrates in the man's hand, rematerializes in his own, and he disassembles it with a deft flick of his wrist. the slide comes off, and he tosses it somewhere off to his left. the magazine is ejected and tucked into his pocket, and then the body of the gun is treated similarly to the slide.
in hindsight, he reaches up and scrubs a hand against his face, clearing some of the blood away. ）
Knife to the head didn't work so you feel like a gun's gonna get better results? You got any idea what the definition of insanity is, my guy?
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Maybe this is Hell, Carver thinks. Maybe Hell is a handsome stranger with a stupid fucking grin and gore running down his cheek who won’t stay down. Maybe Hell is a gun that suddenly flies out of Carver’s hand and splinters neatly into its component pieces. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Magic 8-ball says, you might be losing it, son.
So, there’s that.
Carver rarely strikes first when it comes to hand-to-hand. Better to push the enemy into doing it first. But these are extenuating goddamn circumstances, aren’t they? So, he doesn’t say a word. Just closes his hand into a fist and darts in with nothing but his sap gloves: going for the throat, just like he was taught. ]
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（ do! you! mind!
there was a time he might have let himself get hit just for shits and giggles. the fun of it all, you know? anything to keep that cover intact. now — now he gives less than half a fuck. he catches the guy's wrists and gives him a bit of a shake. like a poodle after a mudpuddle. ）
Down, boy.
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It was his fault that the others died. If he can get it back—
He has to. There is no other choice here. Failure is worse than death and this motherfucker’s hands are around his wrists, shaking him like an unruly dog. The way an instructor might with a student who hasn’t yet understand the magnitude of what they need to learn. Like this is some kind of game, only no one’s explained the rules—only the eternal cost of losing.
Carver bares his teeth in an animal sneer and knees that motherfucker in the dick. ]
i did not have 'why don't i have a 'kicked in the dick' icon' on my tdm bingo card but here we are
all that power, all that history, all the skill and knowledge and strength and speed in the world. super healing! badass skills! irreverent street savoir faire! like, that's all well and good and whatever, but his brain can only do so much at once and right now he's got my heart will go on playing on a loop and eating up a shitload of bandwidth because why didn't rose just share the door, fuck's sake and so yeah that whole dick kick? (not to be confused with: dick pic)
misses it coming entirely.
and like, (CELESTIAL BULLSHIT ASIDE) he's still basically a human. or his world's version of a human. nuts in all the right places. gonads or go home.
sure his pain tolerance is like, (STATIC NOISES) but he's still a dude. so he does in fact let the guy go, give him a very pointed look of annoyance and then. turn around.
brace one hand against the closed door.
wheeze out a breath.
and if he hears carver move a muscle he will hold up one hand, pointer finger held aloft. ）
Gimme a fuckin' minute. You come at me again with god as my witness I will bite your balls off and force feed them （ WHEEZE ） back to you like a fucking mother bird having a really bad day.
clearly the beginning of a beautiful friendship!
Sometimes, a stranger doesn’t die when he ought to. But he hurts, Carver notes, with a vicious sort of satisfaction. Would this man rise back up if Carver cut his head off? Maybe they ought to find out.
Hold, Shaw’s voice murmurs. Hold, Carve. Assess your situation. Don’t get stupid. You have a job to do.
And the job is the most important thing he’s ever done.
So, he holds. He lifts his chin and stares at this motherfucker’s back. Waiting. ]
What the fuck are you?
[ Two possibilities: either this guy is something new like the hungry dead were new once, or Carver’s finally lost his mind. The latter is unacceptable, weak: the latter cannot be bodied. ]
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（ it's not like he's gonna tell the truth. he owes this guy exactly jack and shit. ）
You gonna leave well enough alone or what?
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[ These people have no sense of self-preservation, to leave well enough alone. They don't know what could be taken from them and so they don't protect themselves, they don't stand guard or hide their food away: maybe that's why he's here, Carver realizes suddenly. To remind them all, to stand as one of those object lessons. ]
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（ he turns back around, finally, and then leans up against the wall. if anyone asks, he's holding it up. ）
Maybe you'd start a cult?
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[ Carver just shoots him a narrow look. Trying to take him in from a different angle now: this man isn't a rotter. He's walking, talking, coherent in a way the dead never could be. So, this is something new. Evolution all over again.
Adapt or die. Wasn't that always the rule? ]
You're tone deaf as fuck, [ Carver adds, just because he can. ]
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（ for legal purposes, this is a leer. ）
And don't you talk smack about my voice, I got it from my mom.
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（ after a moment, he opts to clean the knife off. that eyeball gets yeeted into some dark corner of the room where it will no doubt molder and fester until it gives off that weird, viscous, eyeball-y odor. the rest of it gets wiped on his sleeve. ）
What do you think I am?
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And if you can hurt someone, you can break them. It's just a matter of applying the right stressors.
He cants his head, like a dog. ]
Real fucking cliche. I wouldn't be asking if I knew.
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Then I guess I'm going to go from asshole to the biggest goddamn mystery you've ever met. I ain't tellin' you sheeet, boy.
（ he takes the knife and flips it neatly in on hand, and then it disappears in a curl of black smoke. damn does he love that flashy magic shit. he can't teleport in this weird little hyperspace pocket, but this power still works. ）
Cute though that you think you get to demand answers from a dude you stabbed in the brain.
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These people make no sense. They don't know what they could lose. God will mark them for the lesson one of these days. And this - with this man playing games and making knives disappear - is Carver's. And what do we do when we're given a lesson, son?
Even now, perhaps especially now, Pope's voice is so clear in his head. Carver lifts his chin, staring at the other man. Whatever comes next, he won't flinch. You take what you're given and then you thank God and the commander for the privilege of learning. ]
I could've taken your head, [ Carver replies flatly. ] Bet that would've been harder to shake.
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（ he throws himself down onto the nearest bed. sprawls out, limbs askew like a particularly artless spider. like he owns the place. maybe he does. maybe this is his room now, and he's going to make this surly bastard move. ）
Nah, doesn't work. Neither does （ he ticks his fingers down obligingly with each item on the bucket list: ） Nuclear bombs, falling out of low orbit, the pressure at the bottom of the Marinara Trench （ yes. marinara. he's like that. ） Uh... dingoes? Vampires. They're fun, though. Love me a good set of chompers.
cw: cult shit
It usually comes down to power. And right now, Carver can’t compete. That’s just a simple fact. Like gravity, or the hungry dead. Yet it settles wrong in him, like grit between the teeth. Worrying at his soul. It’s been a long time since anything, anything at all, made him feel less. Not even Maggie cowed him at the end.
No. She was a liar, but she won. She was owed the ending she took, the way God intended. And maybe this is Hell come to teach Carver his lesson, penance for all his myriad failings. Pope’s death and the way Leah screamed at the end are only the latest in a long goddamn line. You deserve this, Pope reminds him. Stand up straight.
That settles something in him. Bleeds some of the tension out. He supposes what happens next is inevitable, then. Some things you just take. And if this is penance, then he’ll take the lesson he’s given and thank God for the privilege of it. ]
What about the hungry dead?
[ It comes out a little distant, less angry than before. Maybe—maybe—a little unfocused. ]
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if it's not, he's dealing with a weird world, but not the weirdest he's seen or been to.
he can gamble on it.
cy cants his head to one side, and then: ）
What about 'em? You think the dead bother me?
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[ He doesn’t stand at attention, but there’s purpose to his stillness that bleeds similar. Eyes ahead, son. ]
You shake off a bite?
[ Impossible. But then again, maybe not. ]
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cw: cult shit
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cw: dissociation, hallucinations, so much cult shit
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