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etrayamemes2024-11-11 03:04 pm
etrayamods) wrote in etrayamemes2024-11-11 03:04 pm
Entry tags:
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
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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.]
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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?
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[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...
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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?
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[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.
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he does feel a little calmer, though.
he's unhappy, but at least he's calmer.]
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ivan lets himself look at till eventually, watch him. ivan has only recently died, but it feels like forever since he's done this. ]
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it's been a long time, it feels like. Till wonders if Ivan's disappointed with this version of Till.]
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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.]
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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.]
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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'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. ]
knocks my own head off w liquor bottle WE DID IT
a shaky smile cracks unsteadily across his features as he cries, realizing for the first time what a piece of shit he really is. he wonders if it hurt this bad for Ivan, all those years ago, when Till was the one who broke Ivan's heart.
he understands now.]