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where we're going--
✖ EVENT HORIZON
Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
There has always been some confusion as to whether or not the ferry cuts through sea or sky, but this month as you glide along you will find yourself more and more convinced that it is the latter. It is nigh impossible to see where you are headed, the way forward shrouded in darkness.
At first you think the lights ahead are stars.
The ferry docks inside of a metallic bay of some kind. It’s an extension of what must be the island, although this one does not resemble any earthly land mass. It appears to be a deliberately constructed structure, contained on all sides. Maybe you’re familiar enough with technology or science fiction enough that you realise it resembles a space station more than an island.
Once you’ve disembarked from the ferry, you will find that you cannot go outside of the structure.
Inside, there are seemingly endless corridors for you to explore. The halls on the upper deck are rounded, metallic, with lights set at regular intervals. Here there are chambers roughly the length and width of a single bed, with sufficient height for a person to crawl in and sit up on the bed. There is a television screen set in the wall at the foot of the bed by the door, and sockets for electronics. That is all.
Also on this floor is a mess hall where you can get beige, mostly tasteless nutritional sludge dispensed from machines. Water and coffee are also available, likewise dispensed from machines. (There is a cookbook hidden on a shelf written by one Serak the Preparer, but no ingredients anywhere.) There are private showers and bathrooms, a small gym, and rooms clearly meant as places for people to sit and talk. There is a medical bay, although there is no staff. In fact, the whole place seems empty.
There are some rooms that are locked - these look like offices. The doors to these rooms are extremely difficult to break down, but if you have superhuman strength you could manage it. Or maybe you’re clever enough to work the electronic panels beside the doors.
Inside you will find round monitors on the walls and square tablet-like devices on desks. Attempt to work any of these and a soft, pleasant but emotionless voice will inform you that you do not have access. You can try to speak to the AI - called MUTHER - but it is supremely uncooperative. Someone very good with technology could use the tablet the old fashioned way, perhaps, to access files. You might want to be careful, though - MUTHER might decide to retaliate. Harshly.
There doesn’t seem to be a temple anywhere readily apparent.
Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE
CW: psychological trauma, threat of death.
It’s easy to get lost; nearly identical corridors branch off from one another. As you walk along you gradually become convinced that someone is following you. Periodically you’ll hear footsteps, a sigh, a rustle of cloth. But every time you turn around you see nothing… unless it’s one of your fellow Travelers. Or maybe you run into them because you’re so busy looking over your shoulder.
Regardless, as you walk along the lights in the corridor flicker, and when they turn back on you will find someone you know standing directly in your path. Someone who you know absolutely cannot be there.
Maybe they died. Maybe you haven’t spoken in years. Whoever they are, the feeling they inspire within you is one of intense guilt. You did something to this person, something for which you think you can never be forgiven.
The apparition might speak, or it might just watch you with silently accusing eyes. You begin to wither under its gaze, feeling weaker and weaker until you can barely stand. You just want to lay on the floor and close your eyes… maybe forever.
Your fate rests in the hands of whoever is with you or finds you. All they have to do is introduce a smidgen of doubt into your mind, a recognition that maybe it isn’t all your fault. Of course, that means you might have to tell them what you did.
Oh, dear.
Ⅲ. STOWAWAY
CW: monstrous creatures.
The lower decks of the station are darker, more utilitarian looking. These are corridors that lead to rooms full of computers and machinery that keep the station running so it’s probably best to keep out of there.
There are also storage bays filled with both prosaic wooden crates and large metallic pods. Most of these are locked up tight. But not all. Investigate some of the pods and you’ll find that the floor around them is wet with some sort of milky, slimy substance that sure seems like it came from a living organism.
Maybe you should get out of here.
Before you can get good and gone to the upper decks, however, you find exactly what you probably didn’t want to unless you have a very exciting Tinder profile: an alien.
At least eight feet tall, with pale almost translucent skin, the creature has an elongated skull and a mouth that hosts two sets of jaws like a moray eel. It has a whiplike tail and spiky protrusions along its upper back. It is bipedal, and very, VERY fast.
Better hope you’ve got something to fight with! Your chances of survival are definitely greater if you work with a partner.
And you better hope there’s just the one.
Ⅳ. TEMPLE
CW: potential insanity, violence.
If you wander the dark lower decks long enough, you will find yourself moving ever inward toward the very center of the station. There is a door there that is supposed to be locked, but often isn’t. It’s waiting for you, beyond that door and down a dark corridor: the station’s heart.
The room the solitary corridor opens into is round, walls sloping gently up to a domed ceiling. In the middle of the room is a machine of some kind: a series of concentric thick metal rings rotate in different directions around a sphere. The only noise it makes is the gentle swooshing of the circles as they spin out, up, around.
The air feels heavy and charged. It’s not pleasant.
Before you can leave, all of the rings line up so that they appear to radiate out from the sphere in the center. Light flares, and then in the space where the sphere once was you can see it:
Home.
It’s your homeworld, perhaps exactly as you left it, or perhaps earlier or later along in the timeline. It may be pleasant, or it may be awful, but it is undeniably the place from which you came. The place where you belong.
Stare into this portal home long enough and the compulsion to return will slip over you. You just need to jump into the glowing, trembling center of that dimensional gate.
Whoever is with you, however, realises that leaping headfirst into an unknown dimension might not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had, especially considering how ominous the whole place feels. They might be able to talk you down. Hopefully they can talk you down, because the longer you stare at the portal the more convinced you become that you MUST leap into it, and the only way to do so is to kill whoever is trying to get in your way.
If instead you turn away from the dimensional gate, the lights will flare once more before the rings resume their movement. That brief glimpse of home is gone. In its place is the sound of soft voices; people you have left behind, calling out to you with accusations of things left undone, begging to be told why you won’t come home...
These voices will follow you throughout the ship. They are not constant, but they never leave you alone for very long. They won’t be silent until you give them an answer to the question of why you have chosen to remain.
Is anybody out there listening?
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
There has always been some confusion as to whether or not the ferry cuts through sea or sky, but this month as you glide along you will find yourself more and more convinced that it is the latter. It is nigh impossible to see where you are headed, the way forward shrouded in darkness.
At first you think the lights ahead are stars.
The ferry docks inside of a metallic bay of some kind. It’s an extension of what must be the island, although this one does not resemble any earthly land mass. It appears to be a deliberately constructed structure, contained on all sides. Maybe you’re familiar enough with technology or science fiction enough that you realise it resembles a space station more than an island.
Once you’ve disembarked from the ferry, you will find that you cannot go outside of the structure.
Inside, there are seemingly endless corridors for you to explore. The halls on the upper deck are rounded, metallic, with lights set at regular intervals. Here there are chambers roughly the length and width of a single bed, with sufficient height for a person to crawl in and sit up on the bed. There is a television screen set in the wall at the foot of the bed by the door, and sockets for electronics. That is all.
Also on this floor is a mess hall where you can get beige, mostly tasteless nutritional sludge dispensed from machines. Water and coffee are also available, likewise dispensed from machines. (There is a cookbook hidden on a shelf written by one Serak the Preparer, but no ingredients anywhere.) There are private showers and bathrooms, a small gym, and rooms clearly meant as places for people to sit and talk. There is a medical bay, although there is no staff. In fact, the whole place seems empty.
There are some rooms that are locked - these look like offices. The doors to these rooms are extremely difficult to break down, but if you have superhuman strength you could manage it. Or maybe you’re clever enough to work the electronic panels beside the doors.
Inside you will find round monitors on the walls and square tablet-like devices on desks. Attempt to work any of these and a soft, pleasant but emotionless voice will inform you that you do not have access. You can try to speak to the AI - called MUTHER - but it is supremely uncooperative. Someone very good with technology could use the tablet the old fashioned way, perhaps, to access files. You might want to be careful, though - MUTHER might decide to retaliate. Harshly.
There doesn’t seem to be a temple anywhere readily apparent.
Notes:
1. The High Temple and anything characters may have stored there is only accessible to those who are experiencing their first island outside of the TDM via a marked door. Everyone else must make do with what is available.
2. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.
3. The televisions play mostly game shows. You can also find a set of controllers for it and play Pong. Just Pong.
4. MUTHER will not deliberately kill any people on the station - her programming forbids it. She is not above releasing hallucinogenic gas into the air vents, though.
5. Have fun!
Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE
CW: psychological trauma, threat of death.
It’s easy to get lost; nearly identical corridors branch off from one another. As you walk along you gradually become convinced that someone is following you. Periodically you’ll hear footsteps, a sigh, a rustle of cloth. But every time you turn around you see nothing… unless it’s one of your fellow Travelers. Or maybe you run into them because you’re so busy looking over your shoulder.
Regardless, as you walk along the lights in the corridor flicker, and when they turn back on you will find someone you know standing directly in your path. Someone who you know absolutely cannot be there.Maybe they died. Maybe you haven’t spoken in years. Whoever they are, the feeling they inspire within you is one of intense guilt. You did something to this person, something for which you think you can never be forgiven.
The apparition might speak, or it might just watch you with silently accusing eyes. You begin to wither under its gaze, feeling weaker and weaker until you can barely stand. You just want to lay on the floor and close your eyes… maybe forever.
Your fate rests in the hands of whoever is with you or finds you. All they have to do is introduce a smidgen of doubt into your mind, a recognition that maybe it isn’t all your fault. Of course, that means you might have to tell them what you did.
Oh, dear.
Notes:
1. The severity of the offense is of course up to the player - this can be deadly serious, or played for laughs. No matter how it is played the only way to save a character from sleeping on the floor until they die from dehydration is to convince them of even the possibility that they might not be guilty. They do not have to feel completely absolved.
Ⅲ. STOWAWAY
CW: monstrous creatures.
The lower decks of the station are darker, more utilitarian looking. These are corridors that lead to rooms full of computers and machinery that keep the station running so it’s probably best to keep out of there.
There are also storage bays filled with both prosaic wooden crates and large metallic pods. Most of these are locked up tight. But not all. Investigate some of the pods and you’ll find that the floor around them is wet with some sort of milky, slimy substance that sure seems like it came from a living organism.
Maybe you should get out of here.
Before you can get good and gone to the upper decks, however, you find exactly what you probably didn’t want to unless you have a very exciting Tinder profile: an alien.
At least eight feet tall, with pale almost translucent skin, the creature has an elongated skull and a mouth that hosts two sets of jaws like a moray eel. It has a whiplike tail and spiky protrusions along its upper back. It is bipedal, and very, VERY fast.Better hope you’ve got something to fight with! Your chances of survival are definitely greater if you work with a partner.
And you better hope there’s just the one.
Notes:
1. The aliens are extremely dangerous, but they CAN be killed. Their blood is thick and yellow but is not acidic or poison.
Ⅳ. TEMPLE
CW: potential insanity, violence.
If you wander the dark lower decks long enough, you will find yourself moving ever inward toward the very center of the station. There is a door there that is supposed to be locked, but often isn’t. It’s waiting for you, beyond that door and down a dark corridor: the station’s heart.
The room the solitary corridor opens into is round, walls sloping gently up to a domed ceiling. In the middle of the room is a machine of some kind: a series of concentric thick metal rings rotate in different directions around a sphere. The only noise it makes is the gentle swooshing of the circles as they spin out, up, around.
The air feels heavy and charged. It’s not pleasant.
Before you can leave, all of the rings line up so that they appear to radiate out from the sphere in the center. Light flares, and then in the space where the sphere once was you can see it:
Home.
It’s your homeworld, perhaps exactly as you left it, or perhaps earlier or later along in the timeline. It may be pleasant, or it may be awful, but it is undeniably the place from which you came. The place where you belong.
Stare into this portal home long enough and the compulsion to return will slip over you. You just need to jump into the glowing, trembling center of that dimensional gate.
Whoever is with you, however, realises that leaping headfirst into an unknown dimension might not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had, especially considering how ominous the whole place feels. They might be able to talk you down. Hopefully they can talk you down, because the longer you stare at the portal the more convinced you become that you MUST leap into it, and the only way to do so is to kill whoever is trying to get in your way.
If instead you turn away from the dimensional gate, the lights will flare once more before the rings resume their movement. That brief glimpse of home is gone. In its place is the sound of soft voices; people you have left behind, calling out to you with accusations of things left undone, begging to be told why you won’t come home...
These voices will follow you throughout the ship. They are not constant, but they never leave you alone for very long. They won’t be silent until you give them an answer to the question of why you have chosen to remain.
Notes:
1. If characters DO jump into the gate… They can pass through and emerge on the opposite side gravely injured or completely out of their minds. Or you may use this as a very dramatic exit from the game.
no subject
There's still a fog in his brain that keeps him from reaching out too hastily, but Kyle does have a way of energizing him.
"Was the standard. C was the standard too. Then it was C++. Now it's Python. The standard is fleeting. Temporal. Meaningless to anyone with a future. Unconventional is the new convention." he rambles. When angry and impassioned it's easy to see how he fancied himself some kind of activist. When his energy takes a dip he lays his head on Kyle's chest.
"Ok. I just want you to know you're a total hottie. Like one of those chicks in high-school rom comms who every one can tell is stupid hot but when they take off their glasses and let their hair down every still gasps for some reason."
Then his eyes turn attentive and curious. "What? Who? Creeped out why? They sound like someone who drives five miles under the speed limit just to be safe."
no subject
"Stan was a standard hottie. Kenny was like... you'd have liked Kenny, he had this trashy wiry appeal. Worst teeth you've ever seen but SO charming. And Craig Fucking Tucker... Yeah. You'd have gone for Craig, actually, I think." He's rambling a little, thinking out loud. He never feels bad doing it with Quentin.
He looks down at him, smiling. "Doesn't matter. And I think they just felt it must be very invasive. But I was like, hey, he never almost reads my mind without permission. Plus, like... whatever, so it's a cheat code for intimacy. I don't care."
no subject
"How come all these mutant spectres show up, but I haven't met hotStan or KennyReedus or whoever!" he sulks. "Tell me about Craig Fucking Tucker. Why would I go for Craig Fucking Tucker? What's Craig Fucking Tucker got?"
"People who are tall lifting things off high shelves for their partners aren't cheating at supporting them. People with a huge dick aren't cheating in their sex lives. It's only cheating to anyone who thinks my genetics are something they're entitled to tell me how to use," he gripes. "You should tell me who they are though. In case I need to wreck them."
no subject
He kisses the top of Quentin's head. "Nope. You don't need to know. You just need to know that I love your powers."
no subject
"I do not! I'm only dead curious about him because you think I'd be interested! And like. Ok. I am a little curious about a guy who considers flipping people off a hobby. But I'm immediately less curious if he's conventionally attractive with a big dick. Like what's he got to be broody about even?" he says with a roll of his eyes.
"I know I don't need to know..." he sulks. "If I guess it will you says so?" The smile on his face suggests he already know the answer, but as with most minor frustrations his attention span can't hold onto it long. "I think you took to them better than most people. Maybe because you're smart and well read and stuff. People who lack imagination tend to be way more.... resistant it it. Makes it uncomfortable for everyone. But uh... would you be disappointed if I lost them?"
no subject
Kyle laughs. "He's got chipped teeth and a crooked nose. I dunno, I just think you'd appreciate his energy. He gives NO fucks."
He snorts. "Dude, just leave it." But then he blinks. "Dude. I love you no matter what you can do."
no subject
"Hm. I could get on board with that I guess. Were you guys friends? Was he nice to you?" He tucks himself against Kyle, eager to hear him ramble more about people and places in his past.
"Was it a tall guy with silver hair and a bonkers big sword? I get the feeling he thinks all forms of conversation are invasive."
It comes as no surprise that Kyle is full of sweet reassurances, but he still likes to hear it. He kisses Kyle's lips a few times before finding the gumption to admit something more. "Good. Because, I haven't lost anything, but that whole thing with Martha left me with this low-key headache and like zero energy for mindfreaking anyone," he says bashfully. "It kind of hurts honestly. So if you're wondering why I haven't crawled into your head and right into dirty little nucleus accumbens. Now you know..."
no subject
Kyle shrugs lightly. "More like acquaintances. And no, not particularly. He was really only nice to his boyfriend and his guinea pigs."
He snorts. "No, no. Not him."
Kyle pets Quentin's hair back again. "Q, I don't need you to use your powers to get me all lovey or horny."
no subject
"Then he's cancelled. Sorry Craig Fucking Tucker. He can take his supposedly big dick and shove it."
He beams when Kyle strokes his head. "I know, I know, I know," he murmurs. "I just know you like it. And I love that you love it. I didn't want you to think I was like... avoiding something you like."
no subject
"That's unfortunate phrasing, dude."
Kyle shakes his head a little. "No! And you're not like, my pleasure dispenser, Q. If you weren't in the mood to do brain stuff even just for no reason, that's okay. I know you mutants like to think you ARE your powers, but you're not JUST that. You could lose them all tomorrow but you'd still be Quentin Quire, and I'd still love you."
no subject
"I think it worked better than usual."
"That does sound kind of hot though." It's almost too sweet a sentiment for Quentin to bear so of course he makes a joke. "You know like, what, three mutants and you've picked that up already huh?"
I think I'd be pretty boring without them, not gonna lie. But I guess I could live with it if I still had you."
no subject
Kyle giggles. "Oh yeah? You just my little like... sexy sub, forced to give me psychic head whenever I ask? And yeah, dude. Carter's not so bad but that's because he hates being a mutant. David though, holy hell, he's always like 'but Kyle, you don't understand, this IS me' and stuff and it's like dude you might need therapy, I dunno."
Kyle kisses Quentin's temple. "No. You could not POSSIBLY be boring. You'd be forced to learn new ways to do shit, and you'd be frustrated more often I think, but you'd be a far cry from boring. You'd still be annoying as shit." Said with a smile.
no subject
His laugh hyuks a few times. Delighted and embarrassed at once by this little flight of fancy. "This could be a strong contender amongst pulpy romance novels."
"I'd like to say they might grow out of it but honestly, I think, as a culture, we still have a long way to go before the idea of a power-hierarchy dips."
With a satisfied sigh he tucks himself against Kyle's shoulder. The picture of a man kind of tired and very content. "I'd have to like... go find a job in silicon valley or something. Start a twitter feud with Elon Musk. Plus, I'd probably be sulky and depressed for a while. That does sound more annoying than usual. Where would you want to live if we could live anywhere in the universe?"
no subject
Kyle giggles shrilly. "Could be.
"No real judgement, dude. You guys have it rough."
Kyle cuddles Quentin like a champ. "You'd get over it eventually." He hums, considering the question carefully. "I dunno. Your Krakoa sounds beautiful. Or maybe like... sometimes I think about New York, or London. Someplace really big. You?"
no subject
"It's cool. I mean. For me at least. I realize I'm sort of privileged in that regard. I'm an Omega. My powers aren't useless. And I don't have like compound eyes or something unfortunate. Win-win-win."
"I love places like that!" he chirps. "New York is great. London too. San Francisco. Tokyo. Shanghai. Seoul. Hong Kong. All of the above. We could just a place in all of them and stay until we're bored," he grins.
no subject
Kyle nods. "Yeah, you can pass for human if you need to. Not that you should have to, of course."
He shakes his head. "Not San Fran. I nearly died there once."
no subject
"Exaccctly. I can pass and there's a huge market for telepathy. It's not like having see-through skin. Or being more chicken than man."
"Oh. Ok. Well that's fine. Not San Fran. Tell me about that though. Now I'm curious."
no subject
"Poor chicken dude. ...did I ever tell you my dad was a dolphin person, briefly?"
He sighs. "My dad moved us there. I hated it. Ike and I did a bunch of acid with a bunch of other kids and I guess this deadly smog cloud descended on the city. We got out somehow, but I don't remember how. I actually suspect Cartman saved us based on shit Butters has let slip over the years."
no subject
"Yet somehow even he got laid before I did..." says, blinking suspiciously like this realization is just dawning on him. "What? No. Tell me this story."
"That sounds... terrible? Weird and terrible? Sorry I'm actually kind of distracted and delighted by the prospect of seeing you on acid. Either way. Pass on San Fran. I hung out there a long time anyway."
no subject
He nods, smiling a little. "Thanks. You did, huh? I can see that."
no subject
"Yeah, I was on the hook for a reality show out there. Ratings were good. It gave my whole brand a lift after all the terrorism."
no subject
Kyle cackles. "Yeah, I'm Quentin Quire and I'm not here to make friends," he intones, imitating Quentin's voice.
no subject
He snorts and feigns irritation, even more poorly than usual, clearly tickled by that remark. "It wasn't that kind of reality show! It was more like Real World or Terrace House but with super-people."
CW: canon typical racism and transphobia
He stops for a breath. "I am aware every single thing I said and will say is problematic. Okay, so. This plastic surgeon was basically taking advantage of people not really understanding the difference between gender dysmorphia and like, being unhappy? So I was like, dad, this doctor can make me tall and black and my dad was like Kyle that's stupid I'm going to go talk to this guy, and then somehow he left convinced he could be a dolphin."
Another pause while Kyle lets that sink in.
"Anyway my kneecaps weren't functional so they exploded and I had the procedure reversed and so did my dad and I learned a lesson about what ISN'T genuinely feeling not at home in your body."
Kyle laughs and hugs Quentin tight. "You still probably said it in an interview section. You're the guy they'd love to hate."