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etrayamemes2024-11-11 03:04 pm
etrayamods) wrote in etrayamemes2024-11-11 03:04 pm
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TDM 005
 ⏵ arrival ⏴ Arrival goes as anticipated. Characters awaken in a sterile hospital bed in a clean, white room to the hum of machines under the unnatural lighting common to well-kept institutions. Every bit was designed to be comforting and calming, even with the jarring undercurrent of this situation. The first face they see is Aurora's: her smile appears to be warm, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She might offer a quick explanation, or leave characters to figure it out for themselves depending on their approach. The door to the room swings open, revealing a hallway that stretches out ahead of them. There’s noise from outside and strong pumpkin spice scents coming from the lobby. Ah, muffins and tea. Grab one and head into the crisp, sunny fall morning ahead.  ⏵ potluck ⏴ Cutthroat Iron Etrayan Bake-Off As you step out of the arrival holding area into the main thoroughfare, the entire street has been turned into tents and chef stations to accommodate the activities of thirty people at once. There’s seats, trailers, and robots bustling about to make sure everyone is ready. A couple of cheerful robots in aprons and colorful sweaters approach and redirect you as you step towards the cooking area. There’s gas ranges, ovens, grills, blast chillers, mixers, and set walk-ins and pantries with just about every ingredient you can imagine. There are cameramen (also robots) patrolling the area to capture all your best moments and to broadcast them directly to your fellow citizens’ devices. Your instruction? “Make your signature dish. You have one hour, chef.” It can’t just be straightforward, can it? The land itself is held together with pure chaotic energy. If you’re lucky, all goes as planned. If you aren’t… well…
* All kittens disappear at the end. ** These however, stay.  ⏵ share a meal ⏴ As all the cooking concludes, you will be invited to plate your meal into one of many casserole dishes, regardless of what was made. A ladle will be tucked into the corner and placed on the table with a folded bit of cardstock declaring the chef’s name and the name of the dish. A helper camerabot will come around to each participant and ask for their thinking and their process. Even if you got away without having to cook, even looking towards the table of dishes will spur a helper bot to start making you a plate with one of everything. The helperbot will insist that it is rude to not at least try what their peers have made. In fact, if you are to fill out the score card for each person, you really must taste everything! The robots can’t try the food, so it’s up to you. The cards look like so. The grading system is opaque. Is it meant to be numbers? Stars? Letter grades? Well, you’re the judge. You figure it out. Chef: ___________ Dish:_____________ Judge:___________ Overall Rating:_______
 ⏵ tummy ache survivor ⏴ No matter how well your compatriots cooked or baked their dishes, there are… factors. You see that carrot? It’s really just condensed chaos in the shape of a carrot. No matter how powerful you are, these particular ingredients may not mesh with your being. …And even if it is truly a carrot, do all the chefs know the proper cooking temperature of chicken? Even chickens are aliens to many. (Optional) Roll a Die
Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! |
he also seems to be doing badly tbh…….
even then, he doesn’t care. forcing himself to tune back in, eyes now wide and mouth open in a shocked half-“o,” ivan is more concerned about helping till, somehow. at first, he moves go stand beside till and smooths a hand over his back, but then realizes— how helpful is that, actually?
it probably isn’t. but someone might actually be able to do something about it here.
he goes to back off and away from till. ]
…I’ll get someone—
who’s winning the race for survival, till or the escaped tummyache
he feels like…
…he is going insane.
is that what this is? it’s too real.]
Don’t—[Till pants, wiping his mouth again.] Don’t go. Ivan. Hang on. Don’t.
[…being nauseous to the point of vomiting isn’t a strong argument to get someone to not get the fuck out of anywhere. Till knows it’s low. pitiful, probably. but he doesn’t care. he needs to wrap his mind around something for one damn second.]
….the tummy ache……..😔
it takes till saying his name for it all to begin to really sink in— the reality of both this situation and ivan’s situation. till knows it’s him. ivan knows till is… till. ivan did what he did during that round knowing he would never see till again after. that was the end. and now?
ivan doesn’t know what to do with this unexpected continuation to his life. he especially doesn’t know what to do with it when it involves till. so he listens, stands there with till’s trembling hand fisted in his shirt.
don’t go. he doesn’t think he’s ever heard till say that before. or anyone.
if till had told him “don’t go” back then, would ivan had listened? ha. not that it would have mattered, or would have ever happened.
he tries again to support till’s body as he heaves and gasps for breath. ]
damn….tru….
he’s too determined to investigate what the fuck is going on, and he doesn’t want to pass out besides—what if Ivan’s gone again, when he wakes up?]
C-can… can you help just—move me, [Till manages. he just. uh. understandably wants to be away from his vomit…his stomach at least feels better. well, now it feels like a different kind of bad…but he doesn’t feel like he needs to throw up anymore.]
Maybe d-down the hall, against the wall, something.
[the implication seems to be that Till knows he’s probably going down.]
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[ till looks painfully unwell, his eyelids fluttering in a way ivan unfortunately recognizes. what’s the best way to move till when he’s like this? ivan is taller than till, and so having till lean on him might not go so well. and what if till loses consciousness while he walks?
well. there’s at least one solution to this that ivan can think of.
as carefully as he can, he gathers till into his arms, trying not jostle him so that it’s less likely he’ll jostle till’s stomach. he’ll set him down once they’re a decent way away from the mess on the floor. ]
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the warmth of Ivan’s body against him is—well, a total mindfuck. Till remembers numbly staring at Ivan’s lifeless eyes, his face pale in ways Till had never seen from even the fair Ivan before. probably not the thing to be thinking about if he’d just been sick—a wave of painful nausea ripples through him, and Till’s eyes screw shut, gritting his teeth as he grips over his stomach, an uncomfortable, strangled noise int he back of his throat.
the whole thing hasn’t left his mind since it happened. even when he’s been occupied with the dumb tasks this place has already put him through, talking to other people—it’s always there, harrowing and haunting. he’s barely had time to process it, and now he has to…process that Ivan is somehow here with him.
does that mean Sua’s here somewhere, too—? how the fuck does this even work…
either way, since his arrival, Till’s felt—angry. and he’s feeling angrier.]
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he sets till down well at the opposite end of the hallway, and steps back, eyes scanning over his face. he looks so sickly. worried about whoever he’s been forced to leave back home, probably. ] I’ll go get someone now.
[ all till wanted was help being moved, and now that’s done, so… ]
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but—he still has the energy to force a bark, it seems.]
Ivan!!
[he gets it. it’s probably awkward. Ivan probably wasn’t expecting to have to face consequences for his insanity. but what Till feels is more complex than anger. it’s so many things mixed together that it’s probably what contributes to what’s making the lights seem bright, and blurry.]
Don’t you fuckin’ run away from me…
[Till’s voice cracks half way through what he says, his head dropping.]
Ivan…
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I’m not running. You just look like you’re going to pass out.
[ he takes a step closer as he says it, as if expecting to have to catch till at any moment. ]
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I’m fine. I just—the food didn’t agree with my stomach…
[for a myriad of reasons, not to mention his nerves are all fucked up from his death day, but Till doesn’t have the energy right now. Till’s distrustful of what anyone can do for him, anyway. they don’t even know where they are. the protocols probably aren’t the same.]
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to yell at him, most likely. ivan kissed till, after all, or what he assumes was a kiss. bittersweet; getting the kiss he always wanted from the person who’d been victim to that desire, to ivan’s emotions, nearly his whole life.
if till is upset about that, ivan would understand. maybe till wants to get that over with now and move on with whatever his life will be here.
ivan might as well move this along. ]
Then what do you need me here for?
this is going to be a fucking disaster
What do I need you here for…?
[Till’s expression contorts with anger, and maybe some confusion, maybe some hurt. maybe this is just one of those instances where Ivan is more stupid than he is cold, but the question feels wounding, like it debases Ivan.
eyes glowering, Till’s fingernails dent the paint of the wall as he braces himself, setting his jaw so his teeth don’t chatter.]
…Ivan, come closer.
VIBRATES EXCITEDLY
this is it.
well, whatever till wants to do, he can do it. ivan steps forward, holding till’s gaze.
he can’t seem to keep it, though. strange. ]
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the force of it makes Till lose steadiness and he slides half way down the wall, his feet struggling to keep purchase. it hurts him too, but Till barely notices. he even finds the strength to be shouting again.]
I can’t believe what you did!!
oops forgot to say that was 1/2
I’ve never—felt that much…
[pain.]
directly to jail for that
he blinks hard, shakes his head a little. it feels like his brain is rattling around inside his skull, but it isn’t the worst pain he’s ever felt.
they both know that.
he’s put together enough to listen to and catch what till is saying.
never felt that much…?
ivan’s voice is flat, but it isn’t from lack of emotion. ]
…I’m sure it was shocking. I’m sorry.
dang..
…We held eye contact. Even when you weren’t alive anymore.
[Till curls in, teeth grit from anger, but eyes blurry and hot from pain.]
You threw it… You did it on purpose.
i’m da waw!!!!
oh. he must have died with his eyes open. not really a surprise. many of them have. none of their deaths are natural or easy. but that means till was “looking” at him even after he’d died. ivan isn’t sure what to feel about that. why would till bother? ]
You planned on doing the same thing.
[ ivan isn’t stupid
at least not about this. till stopped singing. he remembers.truthfully, though, ivan had decided way before that moment. ]
ACAB
he’s right, but it’s different!!]
…Yeah, well, I didn’t do anything crazy.
[nevermind that Ivan probably had to; had to do something more grabbing than a cop-out forfeit to take the attention off Till. he can’t make Ivan understand how batshit traumatizing it was, but he supposes there’s no real point. he feels a little better having smacked Ivan for it, which is counter-intuitive to how he doesn’t want Ivan to leave him alone. he’s—scared, kind of. more than he is relieved.
Ivan had made good TV, though—they broadcasted his face in max resolution behind Till as he struggled to perform. but going so far as to say something so venomous would be pointlessly punishing to Ivan.
all Till can really do, he guess, is process that Ivan’s hear. the lower half of his face is obscured by his arms, but he stares over them to Ivan, tears streaming down his face as his upper body trembles. not from weakness, but restraint. he wants to hide away, feeling discouraged, but he’s afraid to take his eyes off Ivan.]
i will see myself out
[ okay, so he “touched lips” with till. ivan supposes it’s true that humans don’t really do that kind of thing anymore. it was in front of tons of segyein and humans alike— segyein more than anything, but… is that so crazy? maybe till means the way that ivan pretended to choke him, too.
pulling himself into a better sitting position, legs crossed, ivan stares over at till, expression working itself into something puzzled, almost shocked, brows furrowed and mouth agape. ]
Why are you crying?
[ ivan knows he ended up doing what he had accused sua of, but the difference is that mizi cared for her while till felt nothing toward ivan. so, why? ]
You’ve seen people die before.
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does Ivan really think it’s the same as the others? people Till didn’t even know? or is he trying to force it out of Till? to spell it out? some kind of vindication??
is this a genuine question? Till sucks in a breath, regulating himself.]
That’s not the same at all, Ivan.
…Are you punishing me?
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…wanting you to live… even in that place… I guess that might seem like a punishment to you. I didn’t mean for it to be.
[ ivan says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world: ]
But if you were gone, I never could have kept living, anyway.
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Ivan had always found him—freed him—tried to free him beyond mere collars and restraints, too. Till doesn’t know what to say to that; he feels that it’s true, and that just—depresses him. he’s hardly worth justifying someone’s existence. Till knows what that feeling is like, but…he’s no Mizi. and even besides, Till had plenty of other things that he lived for, too. Till lifts his head.]
Ivan…
[Till did feel a resurgence of his inner fire when Ivan had died, determined to carry his spirit, but that flame was tired—it couldn’t last long under the crushing weight of his grief, confusion and pain, on top of presuming Mizi dead. when Till had at least Mizi’s life to breathe some life into he himself, however, it was too late.
Ivan’s words still circle in his head, troublingly. Till rests his cheek against his knees. he needs to get up…]
Do you just…think you’re just like anyone else to me from the Garden, Ivan?
Do you not get it—? Why it’s not the same…?
[this is…kind of risky. but they’re both already dead. so what. Ivan is difficult to understand, and the reverse is true from the other’s perspective as well. but Till’s never really had the mind nor bravery to really try to understand Ivan. the way he was so blazé about his own passing and…seemingly, its impact on Till, was too unsettling for Till not to pry, after everything else.
Till feels like he may be getting at the center of the true root to his anger.]
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similarly to how the other kids felt about ivan, ivan felt about till: unreadable. it hasn’t been a negative. usually. there are times when it hurt, but ivan came to accept till would never be “for him.” part of why ivan has always chased so resolutely after till is because he posses so much of what ivan does not, and that fascinates him, is part of what created his love for till. a love not meant to be returned, but ivan grew used to that.
ivan picks his head up a little— till is shifting against the wall. is till moving to hit him again? should ivan get up? be ready for a fight?
…no?
ivan is finding it difficult to parse what till’s asking. like everyone else? well, no. but not important. ]
Of course I’m different from the other children. Everyone knew that, even if it wasn’t the way that you, Sua and Mizi knew.
[ perhaps mizi least of all. ivan had thought sua and he were similar, but… ivan didn’t even have that, in the end.
ivan is hung up on those last few words: why it’s not the same. ]
…why what isn’t the same? We were never like Sua and Mizi, if that’s what you’re asking. I know that, too.
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is it because Till was always pushing Ivan away?? for the longest time, Till really just thought Ivan was fucking with him purely to mock him, get under his skin… things felt a little different, though, after round 6; it contextualized things in a more linear way, lining up with the night Ivan tried to run away with Till.
Till’s to blame for that, then. for Ivan misunderstanding. but part of it is on Ivan, too, for being stupid. Till liked having Ivan around, even though he was annoying and spiked Till’s blood pressure. not at first, but for most of their time together.
tiredly, Till pushes himself up, walking towards Ivan—he kneels, putting his arms around Ivan’s shoulders, resting his bruised forehead on top of Ivan’s head. his hold is loose, his weight a bit heavy.]
…Maybe not exactly. But you aren’t just—someone…
[Till’s eyes feel hot with tears again, but at this point, he’s just annoyed with it. he wants to stop crying!! jeez. even like this…which is already kind of pushing his expressive limits, can Till not simply get it out?? that he cares about Ivan? it’s important.]
…You’re important to me.
I guess—I didn’t show you properly…
Sorry.
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wow haha so glad i came back to finish this TDM thread (: i love a happy ending ahaha ehe ahuhu
knocks my own head off w liquor bottle WE DID IT