TDM 005

[etrayamods]

⏵ 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… Roll a Die 1 Your leg is now tied to another chef’s 2 Your meal is continually un-cooking itself. 3 All of your ingredients are pickled now 4 The longer you touch an ingredient, the bigger it gets. 5 Every time you lift your pot lid, a component changes. 6 The aromatics are glowing and flashing like LED lights. 7 Your knife has been replaced with a cheese grater. 8 The ingredients are now magnetically stuck together. 9 Your meal is becoming deep fried. 10 Kittens are multiplying out of the cupboard. * 11 All of your ingredients have become incredibly heavy. 12 Your cook pot moves burners whenever you turn around. 13 Eggs scream when you crack them 14 The kitchen has become incredibly slippery. 15 It’s soup now. 16 All utensils have been replaced with crustaceans. ** 17 Your knife has a mind of its own. Watch out! 18 Your fridge catches fire. 19 Your pasta is trying to escape. Go get it. 20 Any ingredient not in the pot starts to float away. * 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:_______ Flavor Presentation Stackability Wet Originality Rizz ⏵ 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 1 Tummy Ache. Go lay in bed. Complaining alleviates symptoms. 2 That plate of food has energized you. You feel compelled to race or spar. 3 The food has reminded you of home. You must tell someone a detail of your childhood. 4 That food was so horrible that it simply must be washed out somehow. Spicy peppers? Booze? Gravel??? You’re going to over do it. 5 You have now discovered your new favorite dish. Make them teach it to you or you’ll lose sleep over it. This is all you want to eat for the next week. 6 The oddity of the ingredients has transferred to you. You start floating away. 7 The range of food and textures have inspired you. Acquire an annoying new hobby or habit. 8 You are now haunted by the digital souls of chickens. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[ivan]

[ a punishment? what part of this could be a punishment? maybe the continued forcing of his feelings onto till. it was supposed to be the end of that when ivan died. maybe living with the uncertainty that mizi would ever return? and urak may have entered him in the next alien stage, too… ]

…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.

[pethetic]

[hearing Ivan say something like that so plainly makes Till’s heart clench painfully—because in retrospect, it should be kind of obvious, right

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.]

[ivan]

[ ivan, as much as his masks presents him as a put-together person, is not as mentally strong as he seems. “mysterious,” the other children called him. “mature.” that was fine. being mysterious means people ask you questions expecting that you might answer. it means when you keep to yourself, nobody thinks it’s because you don’t want to tell for any other reason besides being “cool,” especially when you smile at them.

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.

[pethetic]

[Till pauses, pinching his brows as he chews on Ivan’s words, trying to make sense of it. Till had less of an understanding than Ivan of Mizi and Sua’s bond, or the exact nature of it—not that the children of Anakt Garden had tidy, clarifying labels much in the first place… but it was obvious they were very close.

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.

[ivan]

[ maybe this would have been good news a couple of years ago. maybe less than that. at least when ivan was still alive, before round six. the night before would have even worked. he could have asked till to run away again. it wouldn’t have been easy. it might not have even worked. it wouldn’t be just a garden they’d need to escape from at that point.

but… he’s learning this now. right now. in this strange place, where ivan is somehow alive when he should not be.

his last thoughts bounce around and echo in his mind. should have been kinder, becoming a trauma, miserable, sorry—…

ivan's eyes are wild as he’s forced to take in and process this information. how can three words be so life-shattering? till is crying, still. now ivan is realizing that he’s part of the reason— something he never thought possible.

he isn’t supposed to be important enough for till to do that. till didn’t care enough.

till… did care enough. he’s trying to hug ivan. how can any of this be? how could ivan mess up so terribly? ]

I wasn’t better. [ his voice is uneven, quiet, at first; the strained whisper of someone's last defenses falling apart. he pivots, suddenly, and gasps out a laugh. he brings his hands up to push at till’s shoulders, push him away. it’s more of a gentle urging away; ivan doesn’t have the energy to do it with any sort of force, all of the strength has left his body with this unwelcome information. ] I wasn’t better than her at all.

[pethetic]

…?

[Till, surprisingly, doesn’t feel rejected or anything like that—but he is puzzled. and fatigued. the laugh is…startling, even for Ivan. Till sits back on his heels, hands in his lap as he watches Ivan. a little overstimulating, Till figures.

it’s impossible to understand what’s going through Ivan’s mind and heart. it’s clear it’s something distressing, but Till has no idea what Ivan’s talking about at all. like Ivan, Tell had barely ever exchanged a word with Sua.

even without any context, it’s a strange reaction. sure, it’s Ivan, but…why is this Ivan’s reaction to learning he mattered to Till?]

…What do you mean? Better than who?

[ivan]

[ ivan, not exactly here, answers without taking the time to think about it— unlike him. ]

I thought I'd be better than her. Sua— because you didn't care about me. But I—...

[ how exactly is he supposed to feel? ivan puts his head in his hands, legs up and spread, an elbow on each knee. it's only a moment more before his hands find themselves in his hair, instead, tugging at it in fistfuls. there's a smile on ivan's face, but it's not quite right— not that till can see, and not that ivan is even thinking about it, nor putting on the right expression. ]

[pethetic]

[Till looks increasingly puzzled—it's not as though he was explicitly privy by any means to his interactions with Sua. he knew they didn't exactly get along, but Sua didn't really...like anyone but Mizi, so thought nothing of it. more concerning is Ivan's behavior, having never really experienced seeing him in any sort of acute distress.

in a bad spot himself, he isn't sure what he can do to comfort Ivan.]

Well...I do.

[Till shifts, settling beside Ivan. as ever, the rift between their worlds—connecting in understanding one another—is cavernously wide... but it doesn't matter. Till looks towards Ivan, grabbing him (gently) by the wrists—he tries to coax the grip of his hands away from his head.]

Hey.

[ivan]

[ ivan flinches back from till— another something he's never done. touching feels like a bit too much right now. what is he doing? wouldn't he had given anything for till to touch him, before?

he doesn't know what to do, or to say. it's probably the first time ivan has looked so openly helpless since that segyein threatened his life, dangling him toward his death.

his brain is fighting itself, each part over till: the one that wants till's attention and the one struggling with the information that he cared, and so what he did left an impact— even if ivan is here, now... somehow. ]

[pethetic]

[Till won't deny that there's a cut of pain when Ivan flinches back, but...Till gets it, too, as he's prone to overstimulation when in an emotionally unregulated state himself. he doesn't get what's going through Ivan's head, only that he's processing something difficult. Till's said what he needed to say, but he doesn't feel better—it seems to have been at Ivan's expense. getting his skull rocked was easier than whatever had set Ivan off.

but—whatever the state of things, that's just how it is, isn't it? Till can't really handle much more, so he doesn't give himself the opportunity to spread himself any thinner. he just rests with his back to the wall, lifting his knees to rest his head against them. he'll leave Ivan be, but stay close. he needs at least that much at least a little longer.]

[ivan]

[ ivan takes a breath, watching till scoot away. he needs to get a hold of himself. till is staying. he isn't angrily marching away. but does ivan deserve that? to hear till cares about him, that he's important? how? and how does he process what till has told him when ivan has thought the opposite for so long?

touching might be a lot— too much of it, anyway— and ivan might not be able to find the words he's looking for right now, but... he reaches out and grabs one of the legs of till's pants like a child might. he doesn't make eye contact, but his grip is firm. ]

[pethetic]

[Till somehow recognizes that kind of touch—not from Ivan, but it would be something that Till thinks he would do, if he were brave enough to even reach for that much affection from other people. maybe that's part of why they're in this mess in the first place.

hesitant at first, Till adjusts just slightly—he tilts at the waist just slightly, his upper arm and shoulder coming into contact against Ivan. not more than that, though. maybe they just needed to sit and shut up for a minute. maybe Ivan's warmth is enough. their words get lost and tangled up. they need to get their shit together so they can get out of this public hall, but that's a lower priority at this second.]

[ivan]

[ ivan doesn't pull away, but when he leans into it, it's subtle. but it's still... something. whether or not till notices is another thing on its own.

interacting with till has always been fun and games, for the most part. ivan could ask him questions till would label as dumb, or annoying, the same with anything he did to till. till would let ivan hang around, watch him, exist by him. but all of that was because till wanted him around? ivan knew he wasn't number one in till's heart, but when he realized sua and mizi weren't like him and till at all—... mizi loved to be in sua's presence, and very obviously. ivan felt that way toward till, but till—... it was different.

things are heavy. ivan can feel it. he may not be the best with emotions, but till is different. till has been able to glimpse the cracks of ivan's mask before.

what he did during round six has changed everything— or maybe it's being alive that has. the last time a plan fell apart so badly was when till changed his mind about running. even then, ivan was able to recover. somehow... somehow believing till didn't care about him is easier than knowing he does. ]

...what do you feel right now?

[pethetic]

...I don't even know. Too many things. Confused, [Till mumbles eventually.] Tired. Sad.

[at least he feels less angry. it's still kind of there, but it's not at the boiling forefront in the storm of all things going on inside of him right now. with it feeling like there's even more conflict and confusion, Till just feels momentarily defeated. it won't stick, probably, but considering since before dealing with the annoying crap this place has put him through, he'd just dealt with going against Luka...and prior to that, Ivan...

he's just drained.

he hopes Mizi at least got out. he misses the touch of her hand. maybe things only made sense to him about her because they didn't know each other at all. even the warmth of that memory is beginning to dim.]

It just won't stop, [Till says quietly, just above a whisper.] I can't take anymore... I can't...

[ivan]

[ ...and ivan contributed to that.

till is an emotional person. he cries a lot. ivan has only really tried to comfort till when he's been out of it, either completely unconscious or out of it enough not to realize it was ivan that was there. it's never been with words, only actions.

ivan doesn't know what to do. so he'll ask. his voice is a little stiff when he does; he doesn't know how to offer comfort in a situation he caused that can't be solved with teasing or messing around. ]

What do you want me to do?

[pethetic]

I don't know...

[Till laughs a little, pushing his fingers through his hair. Ivan already helped him this far...he needs to recover, get up, wash up... maybe find some accommodation.

it's difficult to admit, but,]

I don't wanna be alone. Don't go anywhere.

[ivan]

[ that laugh hurts. it etches a deeper frown onto ivan's face, though maybe that isn't saying much when he's having trouble emoting right now. he responds with his body, scooting himself closer to till so that they're pressed together side by side. out of habit, he nearly props his chin on till's shoulder but stops himself, letting his head sort of loll to the opposite side instead. ]

[pethetic]

[Till's content with that much, for now. all the chaotic feelings and thoughts have kind of gridlocked, and now it feels like his head is just full of static. he's grateful he's too numb to really cry; he does sometimes feel his breath squeeze and hiccup in a way that makes him feel worried it might start back up again. he just closes his eyes and rests, fingers occasionally twisting into the fabric.

he does feel a little calmer, though.

he's unhappy, but at least he's calmer.]

[ivan]

[ every time ivan hears the potential start to what might be crying, his grip on till tightens. it never does start, but it's almost like a kneejerk reaction.

ivan lets himself look at till eventually, watch him. ivan has only recently died, but it feels like forever since he's done this. ]

[pethetic]

[Till doesn't react, but he feels Ivan's eyes on him. he does eventually tilt sideways, maybe a little selfishly hoping that Ivan's had enough time for Till to just lean on him. he hopes to hear his breathing—he knows that Ivan's heartbeat is too far, but the more signs of life he can glean, the better.

it's been a long time, it feels like. Till wonders if Ivan's disappointed with this version of Till.]

[ivan]

[ despite it all, selfishly, part of ivan wants this: the closeness, for till to actually want that closeness. silently, ivan leans his head against till's. he isn't certain if he deserves it, or how to even approach his thoughts and feelings about what he's done, but... if everything falls apart soon, it would be nice to have this, and to ivan, the reality is that it all probably will. ]

[pethetic]

[Till's head feels heavy—before their stage match, it had been a while since he'd seen Ivan. someone who'd been stuck to him like a shadow through almost the entirety of his time in Anakt Garden had become almost a stranger. Mizi went missing in their time apart. it all wore on Till—it wasn't loneliness exactly, but just...a heavy, numbing emotional burden.

for years, Till had only really seen Ivan's face through ads, and probably vice-versa. Till was never booked for interviews, due to his unruly, predictable nature. Till's stomach would twist in a strange way he didn't like to hear Ivan's voice in casual passing, but couldn't resist reading some of his interviews where he could.

then Ivan died, and now there's all this bullshit. but maybe it's inevitable. they aren't kids anymore, but people like Ivan and Till don't really know what it means to become men, either.

he's just glad to be close to Ivan, even if the situation is still shitty. but it's not as shitty as a fake choke-out, as far as contact goes. that, Luka's mocking, intimate touch, and Mizi's soft cradling have been the sum total of human connection since the gardens. considering Till's very early life, it's made him realize he's both sensitive to touch, but deeply needing of it.

Till rubs his eyes because his head hurts (his own doing, primarily), unconsciously tilting his knees in Ivan's direction. he's conflicted; he feels like he can stand, and if Ivan's upset, there's no sense in forcing contact...but perhaps toxicly, Till still can't bear to leave him, like he might evaporate.]

[ivan]

[ as soon as till is shifting, ivan is picking his head up, watching him. has he had enough? is till coming back to his senses, wondering what he's doing, leaning on ivan like this?

ivan voices none of those questions.

with the way his mindset is currently, the repositioning of till's knees comes across as till trying to leave. that's what ivan is used to, anyway. ]

Are you done? [ ivan's tone is even— it's just a question, and there's nothing tinting it, not annoyance, or anything else. it's just that ivan can't process any of this while till is still here. he may yet find out that even when till is away from him, it'll be a struggle. for someone who developed their emotional intelligence late, and is still working on it... adding information to the mix that ivan was so sure was the opposite is a lot. it's years' worth of "a lot."

just wanting to escape and be by himself versus the desire to sit here with till, his vomit halfway down the hallway, is overwhelming on its own.]

[pethetic]

[somehow, it feels like the question locks Till out of a real answer. locks him outside of what he feels he needs, or wants, which is also confusing. cements his grief that he was desperate to hope he could escape after such a mortifying reunion.

what's going on??

was he foolish, for that hope?

Mizi isn't here. Ivan is, but...he...

isn't?

it's a request for relief, right? but why? there's so much contradiction, but it's not just from Ivan. why does he get to be so entitled?? he turned his back on Ivan, who tried to free them both. he never gave Ivan his kiss, and strung him along.

Till's answer is yes, whether he wants it to be or not. the rejection stings worse than the death trauma. almost. maybe. they at least contend. Till's breathing heavies and quickens, his eyes rolling a bit in agony before they close, squeezing tears down his face. tense, he nods a few times. almost gasping, Till accepts what he perceives as rejection, pushing away and feeling lowly. he thuds his forehead against his knees, finding he's too weak to even hide as much as he wants to, by doing something like hugging his shins.

unable to keep himself tethered, too confused, too wounded, and out of his mind, Till gives in to his collapse, quietly sobbing.]

wow haha so glad i came back to finish this TDM thread (: i love a happy ending ahaha ehe ahuhu

[ivan]

[ the way till dissolves into sobs makes ivan want to take him into himself, keep him there so that nothing can ever make him feel this way again— nothing and nobody. funny, when the reality is that ivan made him feel like this. ivan made him feel this way and till would rather cry alone than have ivan sit here with him for it.

ivan's shutdown is a bit different. it's quiet and emotionless— on the surface, anyway. not even the promise of keeping himself safe can provide the motivation to work a smile onto his face. he's never seen till cry like this before. has he? if he's not allowed to right now, maybe his memory is right. he would remember something like this when it comes to till.

he doesn't realize he is wearing an expression on his face, so emotionally and mentally shaken by their reunion and how it's culminated into... this. ivan's eyes are a little wide and his eyebrows are knit, the line of his mouth set in a small but noticeable frown. till won't see it either, though, and so there's no one to witness this.

whether he's "cared for" or not, ivan is aware of his place. he doesn't bother to try and put himself in someone else's shoes— mizi's, maybe— because he'd never be able to. even if he were, till wouldn't want that from him. till has just pushed him away, after all. literally.

what does caring for someone even mean? has ivan had it wrong this whole time?

ivan pushes himself up, and wordlessly, he leaves. he doesn't look back, ivan fearing he won't know what he might do if he does. ]