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]

[ 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. ]

knocks my own head off w liquor bottle WE DID IT

[pethetic]

[Till hears Ivan get up; he hears Ivan go. he'd begged for him to stay.

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.]