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Bang Up To The Elephant

✖ VICTORIA'S SECRET

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
The fog that has blanketed the city for a month finally lifts a little - there are days with actual sunshine now! Not many, and the sky is still frequently thick with smog, but every so often light pours through the holes in the clouds. The river that flows from the sea into the city still smells foul, but maybe you’re starting to get used to it.

Walk the cobbled streets and you will find that the city is crowded and filthy, but full of merchants, pubs, and theatres. Vast wealth and extreme poverty exist side by side.

In the center of the sprawling city is a temple with towering gothic spires and huge stained glass windows depicting all manner of beings that might be gods or angels or monsters. You could look for hours and still be finding new figures plucked straight from books of myth and religion. Inside, the main chamber has a grand vaulted ceiling, and dozens of pews line the aisle up to the altar, which is oddly anticlimactic compared to the lavish surroundings: just a plain stone table with a lit oil lamp in the centre. Two hallways branch off on either side of the room: one leads to private baths and a communal kitchen, the other to monastic style chambers with thin beds. Not the most comfortable place to stay, but it’ll do in a pinch!

The High Temple has also reappeared at the edge of the city, with its considerably more comfortable lodgings.

Alternatively you can venture into the city and find yourself some other lodging - every Traveler has been supplied with some pocket money. Just be careful that it isn’t stolen by some street urchin. Travelers can also find an era-appropriate outfit that will fit them perfectly laid in the first sleeping chamber they visit.

Notes:
1. The High Temple and anything you may have stored there is available to all characters this month.

2. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.

3. The city greatly resembles Victorian London, and the technology and general way of life is all of that era. Feel free to explore the city! These prompts are a jumping off point - how they affect your character and their development is up to you.

4. Most food is safe to eat, and is consumable by non-human entities. Most. Some of it’s going to be pretty gross or cooked improperly, so be careful.

5. The people in the city are normal humans unless otherwise indicated. Killing them is possible and will affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation.

6. Have fun!

Ⅱ. COME UNDONE
CW: dead bodies, archeological graverobbing.
Somehow, some way, you find yourself with an invitation card:

Lord Trewlaney at Home: the Unwrapping of
THE JEWEL OF THE SEVEN STARS!
Half-past Eight
Unwrapping? How saucy! Or perhaps you have an inkling of exactly what that means.

The invitation gets you entry to a well kept home on the more well-to-do side of the city. There are plenty of servants circulating with food and drink of which you are welcome to partake. Society’s elite chatter and mingle all around you; maybe you fit in, and maybe you don’t.

Regardless, you don’t have to wait very long for the main event. The host of this little soiree - presumably Lord Trewlaney himself, a little man with a weak chin and an impressive mustache - stands at the front of the room and holds his hands aloft.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he says in a clear voice. “BEHOLD! We shall now commence with the unwrapping of this, a fine example of Egyptian mummification, who was once called the Jewel of the Seven Stars!”

A wheeled table is brought forward, covered in a purple velvet cloth. Dramatically, Lord Trewlaney flings it back to reveal a body wrapped in ancient linen bandages. The crowd sighs, and Trewlaney’s eyes scan the crowd.

“Ah, you there!” he cries, pointing at you. Or maybe the person beside you.

“You folk there! Here, come up, my friends! You may have the honour of being a part of history!”

The crowd pushes you and your companion forward with excited murmurs. Soon enough the two of you are beside the mummy, and Trewlaney is handing you a pair of scissors. Up close the body smells of cinnamon and something else, something familiar.

“Reveal its face!” he urges you. And so, you cut.

Much to your surprise what is revealed is not a desiccated corpse, but your own likeness. Before you have time to react the mummy sits up and turns to face the audience, who oohs and ahhs.

The mummy’s lips part and it speaks. What does it say? Something extremely revealing; in plain terms, the mummy reveals something an aspect of yourself that you would rather have kept hidden.

Oh dear! You can shut yourself up, of course, but before you do maybe you ought to consider that interfering with a mummy was considered a surefire way to fall under a curse…

Notes:
1. What is revealed can of course be of any degree of seriousness. Murder? Or do you just secretly enjoy RomComs?

2. Shut the mummy up before it has its say and you will suffer the Mummy’s Curse: bad luck that will plague you for the rest of the month!

Ⅲ. IMAGINARIUM
The sign above the door simply reads Cabinet of Curiosities. How intriguing! And at the very least you can get out of the chill.

Inside there are dozens of wooden cases with glass fronts, each filled with shelves of all manner of objects. Some look expensive and exotic, while others are almost painfully mundane. There are taxidermied animals, wet specimens, fossils, glass eyes, rocks and crystals, pottery, statuettes… There’s a little of everything.

As you peer amongst the stuffed ducks and fossilized plants, you’ll spot something familiar. It’s an object that you recognise as personally significant whether because it’s from your life back home, or because it’s symbolic. It represents a dream or a hope you have for the future.

If you take the object out of the cabinet for a closer look, you and whoever happens to be standing nearby will instantly be transported to a hazy vision of what that lovely dream is. It won’t last forever - indeed, maybe only a moment. Depending on what that hoped for future is, you might have some explaining to do.

Notes:
1. All futures are something hoped for. They may be completely unrealistic and bittersweet, but they are something wanted and not feared.

Ⅳ. GARDENS
CW: mind altering substances.
If there’s one spot within the city where you might be able to find some refuge from the dank scent of ocean rot and the sour smell of body odour, then it’s going to be the Gardens. A jewel toward the west side of the city, you will find a greenhouse containing all manner of tropical plants, and a rose garden with over a 100 different types available for you to enjoy.

But why stop there? There are also areas where you can stop and have tea with a friend. They even have those little sandwiches with the crust cut off! They have cucumber, egg, and cream cheese. Each of these has a different effect: cucumber sandwiches will provide a mild sense of euphoria, while the egg will give you a lot of energy (and maybe some gas). Cream cheese will make you very relaxed and prone to oversharing. There are also perfectly regular cakes and biscuits available, as well.

Maybe you’re feeling a bit more somber. In the northeast end of the park there is a secret pet cemetery with over 300 tiny tombstones paying tribute to the tragic losses of many much-loved pets. The area is disused, overgrown with ivy and ferns. Sitting there evokes a sense of peace.

Prefer to see some living wildlife? Fear not, the park seems to attract several different types of songbirds which makes it a hotspot for birdwatching. There are binoculars available to use for that purpose. Or you could use them to peer into the city’s seamy underbelly. Just don’t get isolated and weird about it.

Sometimes I can still hear his voice...

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I. (might take a little crime to) Come Undone

A mummy unwrapping party is so goddamn ghoulish that Kyle thinks it's no surprise whatsoever that the Victorians were into it. "These people have a real death boner," he mutters aloud as the mummy is first revealed. Mourning photographs, spiritualism, grave robbing... yeah. Desecrating an ancient corpse fits right in.

But then he's being shoved toward the front of the room at the insistence of the lord or duke or whatever the hell he is. "Uh, no, no thanks,' Kyle says as he shoved up in front of everyone. "This kind of just reeks of colonialism aaaaaand okay, those are some big scissors."

Kyle is used to just going along with weirdness by now. So he sighs and cuts, revealing a much more wrinkled version of himself.

"Sick, dude!" he cries, taking a step back. He then shrieks a little when the mummy sits up.

"My criminal record includes assault, the use of weapons of mass destruction, academic fraud, many instances of drug abuse, terrorism, arson, performing surgery without a license, and mur--" the mummy says before it is cut off by Kyle forcibly clapping his hands over its mouth with another shriek.

He looks around, eyes wide. "Uhm. Nothing," he says. Yeah, very convincing.

II. ImaaaginaaaAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaaarium...

He sees it tucked in between a poorly taxidermied fox and a wooden leg: a simple menorah, but one that looks exactly like the one his family back home has had his entire life. He reaches for it (the fox fur feels nasty as he brushes his hand past) and takes hold. The second he does, cabinets full of oddities vanishes, replaced instead by what is quite clearly a house in the suburbs.

Kyle looks around, eyes wide. "Uh," he starts, but is interrupted by the laughter of young children. Two of them come barreling into the living room where Kyle and whoever is unfortunate enough to be with him are standing - a boy and a girl, both with deep red hair.

"Daddy, come ON!" one of them cries, and from the kitchen the reply comes, "Hang on, hang on," in what is undeniably Kyle's own voice.

"The fuck?" Kyle exclaims, dropping the menorah. When he does the scene vanishes like smoke, and he's left standing there looking like he's been smacked upside the head.

Wildcard!

Hey, I'll do anything. Will match format.

The psychic whiplash that occurs as a direct result of being momentarily shot into some potential future and back is staggering.

Quentin, of course, is instantly curious. First by the idea of speculative time travel and then by the sight of all these ginger children and that familiar but time-tested voice.

"Whoa. The fuck was that?"

"I don't know," Kyle says. Cautiously, he bends down, studying what he's dropped.

"This looks EXACTLY like the one my family has," he explains. "So I picked it up, and..." He frowns and reaches out, grasping the menorah by the base and straightening up.

The world once again grows hazy and they're back in the same living room as before. The decor is sparse but comfortable. Laughter bubbles from the kitchen, and Kyle moves towards it.

Inside the kitchen is himself. Older, bearded, but him. The same two kids are there too, bugging him about dinner.

"Jesus—" he manages to grab hold of Kyle's arm this time, but not fast enough to stop him so he just hangs on as the universe flips them over again. "Stop touchings thing. Except now don't. Don't stop touching that thing." Clear as mud.

Quentin blinks the vertigo away and looks at this a moment. "Is this your house?" he asks Kyle. Young Kyle. His Kyle. "Is that your dad?"

Kyle shakes his head. "No," he says softly. "That's me, I think. So, yeah, I guess this must be my house."

He looks around the kitchen, which is bright and modern. The standing mixer on the counter is pink. The toaster is chrome with pink accents.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I think, uhm. I think this is the future, dude."

"Daddyyyyyyyyyyy I'm staaaaaaaaaaaaaarving," the youngest child, the girl, whines. "When can we eat?!"

"When your dad gets home," Kyle's older self says firmly.

"Dude," the actual Kyle says. "This is a pretty fucking nice house..." He moves to the window to peek outside. He can't see much - it's all grey and white, like fog.

"Excuse me?!" Quentin's eyes couldn't get any larger as he gawks at their surroundings— and more importantly the beardy redhead in the middle of it all.

"Daddy inDEED!" he yelps and immediately claps his hand over his mouth at the prospect of being heard by any of the players in this little living diorama. "Can they hear us? Are they real?"

Fucking look at you!? A BEARD? A gloriously full, ginger beard?? A blazer!? Kyle the absolute fucking domesticity of it all!" He squeals, clinging to Kyle's shoulder.

And then something cold and crushing strikes the middle of his chest.

"Wait. The future? Your future? Are you sure?"

Edited 2022-02-08 04:07 (UTC)

Leave it to Quentin to recognise that future!Kyle is a DILF.

"I don't think so, no," Kyle says. "I mean, old me would have noticed ME me, I think." He lets Quentin shake him by the shoulder, unperturbed. He's too busy studying the lines of his own face. He looks happy, he decides.

He shrugs. "I dunno, it sure looks like how I'd picture it." He glances at Quentin. "What?"

Recognize it. Celebrate it. Torment Kyle with it. All of the above.

"That's a good point. Let's test that theory— HEY BROFLOVSKI YOU TOTAL OTTER, SHOW ME THAT DAD BOD." Much to Kyle's credit he seems absolutely right that they're removed somehow from the scene that plays out before them.

Kyle does look happy. No denying that. And it warms Quentin in some unexpected way to see him all grown, and handsome and taken care of. Even if it turns bittersweet when he can't imagine he has any part of such a cozy, familial scene as this.

He offers Kyle's question a small shrug. "They're cute. I didn't know you wanted kids." Of course he'd have kids, Quentin thinks now. He's exactly the type of guy who probably should be trusted to bring kids into the world. "You'll be a great dad.

"Let's look around. I wanna know their names. And what kind of a smoking hot husband you bagged."

Edited 2022-02-08 05:01 (UTC)

"Did you just call me an otter?!" is Kyle's intelligent contribution to this discourse.

He shrugs back, cheeks flushing a little. "I like kids," he says, not quite defensively. "I kinda always figured some day, maybe... I dunno."

As Quentin moves a little closer to the family in front of them, Kyle hesitates. He's not sure he wants to interfere in what might be a future, but more than that he suspects that this may not be one after all.

It's the pink mixer and toaster. And the fact that the kitchen and living room are both just a little more slick looking than he himself would pick.

Sudden understanding dawns at the same moment he hears a car with an obnoxiously loud engine rip its way into the driveway and the presumably attached garage.

"Quentin, we should go upstairs RIGHT NOW," Kyle says as his older self rolls his eyes.

"Daddy's home!" the little girl shrieks as she runs toward the front door. Kyle tugs on Quentin's arm in a desperate bid to haul him up the stairs or into the pantry or to anywhere that isn't here, to no avail.

The front door opens and Quentin Quire walks through.

Kyle wants to die.

Edited 2022-02-08 05:18 (UTC)

"Well, you're not a bear" he counters. Like that's the argument they're having here.

"I mean it. You'd be the best dad. You'll be one of those dads who kids' legitimately aren't afraid to talk to you about anything to the point it weirds out all their friends with emotionally constipated fathers." His smile is still just a tinge sad. Which might not be so noticeable on anyone who's default state of contentment isn't merely several shades of mischievous. But he does seem sincerely understanding. Oblivious to those telltale little details, but understanding.

When that peaceful heartache is so rudely interrupted, Quentin's brow furrows at the sound. "Seriously? What kind of a total d-bag rolls up in suburbia with a V10? Oh my God, Kyle! That better be the neighbour!"

When the little girl confirms the worst, Quentin turns his mortified look on His Kyle. He digs in his heels to fight off Kyle's desperate attempt at keeping him from seeing what terrible choice the future holds for an otherwise well-aged version of his boyfriend. "What!? No! Kyle! I need this! If I'm not gonna be there to see it you have to at least—"

And Quentin Quire's brain malfunctions for a good long moment.

Any trace of that loneliness this sight initially inspired dissolves into dumbstruck disbelief.

"Oh. My. God. I can't believe. You get that beard. And I'm not even any taller."

"Well, NO, but..." But what he's not certain.

Kyle recognizes that sadness, but isn't aware of the source. He suspects functional living families in general probably make Quentin a little envious, but it's not until Quentin says he's not going to be there that Kyle wonders if part of his sadness has anther source.

Which he'll have to address later, because right now he's staring as an older (but still attractive, in his opinion) Quentin scoops up their daughter with telekinesis and tosses her about with a smirk.

"Guess THAT kind of total d-bag," Kyle says faintly. Their older selves exchange quick kisses.

"Of course you can't get taller. But look at you, you look amazing!"

Kyle's not wrong to think that even if Quentin had thought this future held any place for him, the little punk would have been left no less speechless.

"My hair is the same," he smiles a little. Not only has he seen enough bad haircuts in his own future but he tires of people telling him he'll grow out of it. You don't grow out of a signature look. "Ugh, you know if I shave it all off I'll just end up looking like Xavier when I'm old. Every old, bald white guy looks the same."

Despite his predictably superficial commentary, the sight of his older self with their kids, with each other, with this serene little home that now suddenly makes a lot more sense aesthetically— it all aims to steal his breath away.

"What... which... what universe is this?" he asks, his eyes glassy and his hand on Kyle's arm holding fast for a different reason than before. "How do we make sure we end up here??"

Edited 2022-02-08 06:57 (UTC)

Kyle relaxes a little, smiling. "Of course it is," he says. "It's iconic."

Their older selves herd the kids to the dining room table, then set about serving the dinner Kyle has clearly made.

"I don't know," Kyle admits. "There's nothing outside but fog, and I think..." He looks at the menorah he's still holding.

"I think it's from my head. My fantasies. That's why there's no outside - I never know WHERE to wind up."

Edited 2022-02-08 07:09 (UTC)

Kyle Broflovski | South Park (adult) | OTA

II. ImaaaginaaaAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaaarium!

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Wildcard baby!

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