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TDM 007
content warnings for this TDM include: violence, potential death, body horror, physical transformation, loss of senses, loss of autonomy ![]() ⏵ arrival⏴ Arrival does not happen as Aurora usually plans for it. New characters are introduced to the AI, then informed of a mission that they are required to participate in before they can return to their home base of Etraya. A world called Aphaia is falling apart, and while there is nothing they can do to resolve this broken world, they can participate in the Gamerunner's Stratagem. Their mission is simple: step through the glowing purple portal that Aurora creates once they've had time to listen to her, and survive until a similar portal reopens in front of them, allowing them to return to Etraya. The Gamerunner's Stratagem is something they have been working on building for quite some time. She informs all newcomers that they will not be present on this world that long: their exit will appear to them exactly when it's meant to, allowing them to meet the others who have been recruited to save their worlds. She provides each and every arrival with an earpiece, allowing them to communicate with the other Etrayans. Aurora suggests taking a bag full of supplies along with them, which she will fill with a few generic items as well as any specific items they may need: synthetic blood for vampires, protein bars for those who may burn through calories faster, medication for anyone who requires it. ![]() ⏵ aphaia ⏴ Aphaia is a neon-lit, chaotic planet. Cameras are everywhere, every action and inaction is judged by the 'audience'. Towering holograms advertise upcoming events while flashing leader boards track the most "popular" players. Contestants are thrown into challenges, many of which are games of skill, survival, and deception all to keep the viewers entertained. Not participating is an option! However, avoiding playing along and not putting on a show will quickly cause participants' score to go down, and scores that reach zero? Well. Unfortunately, there are only so many resources left on Aphaia. Their wildlife has died off, their planet is falling apart, and most others in this galaxy were either destroyed from the inside out, or warring planets trying to gain control of remaining resources destroyed them to avoid others getting involved. Their natural resources are depleted, and only those who manage to keep their scores up are given the luxury of having any supplies. As soon as one steps foot on Aphaia, as soon as they breathe, they intake nanotechnology which tracks their oxygen consumption, their food, everything they do or need. As soon as their scores reach zero? They disappear. There one moment, and completely gone the next. Their communicators go offline, and while everything they were carrying will be left behind, no one will be able to find them. They are simply--gone, erased from existence. This is a death and counts as a death as outlined in the game FAQ! Please keep this in mind. "Points" that go towards their total score will be assigned to contestants from the moment they drop down on planet. This will be visible using the HUD on their earpiece, and will be randomized at the beginning. For the sake of the TDM, we ask that no one be assigned Paragon initially, but you're free to use other ranks! The possible rankings are: 100: PARAGON 99-80: LUMINARY 79-70: CHAMPION 69-50: CONTENDER 49-30: UNDERLING 30-0: SHADE Ranks may change daily, or even hourly depending on the kind of situation one has found themselves in. Are they having a very public break up in which it comes out that they wronged their ex? They may go from a Champion to a Shade before they can even blink. Did they save a defenseless reporter from the big bad villain of the week? They may find themselves quickly elevated up to Luminary and given all the benefits that comes with being upper class. The world is their oyster, they only need to figure out how they'd like to utilize it! Aphaia is broken up into four districts. The Colosseum is a dynamic battle arena where combatants fight for entertainment, with shifting environments controlled by the audience. Victories earn points, while losses depend on performance. The Symposium is a lavish social hub for top contestants, where alliances and betrayals are made under the audience’s watchful eye. The Agora is the public center of Aphaia, where contestants engage with the audience through polls, interviews, and challenges to maintain popularity. It also houses the contestants in high-rise apartments. And Backalleys provide hidden spaces with intentional blind spots for secret dealings, though the Gamerunner is always aware of what happens there. ![]() ⏵ st★rlight soirée ⏴ Something special is happening in the Colosseum. Lights flicker as the arena shifts, rearranging itself into a grand, glittering ballroom - if a ballroom had stadium seating, paparazzi drones, and an ever-changing floor plan designed to disorient those within it. Silver chandeliers pulse with artificial starlight, their glow refracted through the crystalline floors. Music swells, but it sounds - unnatural. It thrums through your veins, setting your blood alight with the urge to dance. Why is the ballroom designed as if intentionally put together to throw off one's balance? Well, it's time for the Panopticon Prom, of course! The Panopticon Prom isn't just an adventure in dancing and impressing your most recent crush. It's a test of endurance, cunning, grace, and charm. The floor beneath your feet moves as if it has a mind of it's own, shifting to the beat like a living creature all of it's own. It tilts, undulates, even vanishing in sections to keep dancers on edge. After all, it's difficult to keep up one's pace if they're falling through a hole in the floor to the foam pit below. Drones zip through the air, catching every stumble, every misstep, and every attempt to throw off others on the dance floor. This is a competition, after all; and what fun is a dance battle without having the freedom to thwart someone else on their road to victory? The rules are simple:
![]() ⏵ casino royale ⏴ Out in the Agora, another popular quarterly event is being set up! The Casino Royale has been destroyed countless times, but it seems as if the Gamerunner just can't let it go - every time it gets knocked down, it gets rebuilt. There is one rule. One must take a turn at the revolving wheel just inside the door as their entry fee, and whatever the wheel lands on, they must maintain until they exit the building for the night. Sometimes, this is easier: an effect they have no control over and cannot undo even if they wanted to. Sometimes, this is more difficult: an assigned task they must complete. Failure to abide by the wheel once means receiving a penalty. Twice? Certain death if caught by any employee. The wheel's effects are as follows:
The casino is alive with the hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the steady whirl of the roulette wheels. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over velvet-lined tables, where fortunes are made and lost with the flick of a wrist. But something feels. . . off. The dealers never blink. The cards never seem random. And the house always wins - always. Maybe it's just paranoia, or maybe this casino is something more than just a den of chance. Tonight, you're not here just to play; you're here on a mission. You've arrived dressed to kill, blending into the sea of bodies filling the casino's floors. But you're not here to win points or boost your social standing - you're here to win intel. Somewhere in this casino is a single flash drive containing information on just how Aphaia maintains their system. The only problem? The House knows someone is coming for it. After all, they're well-aware of the game: whoever retrieves the flash drive will obtain information on how to flip the script, to change the rules of the game to fit their wants and needs, rather than following the current Gamerunner. After all, this is the Gamerunner's Stratagem that Aurora has sent them out on! Many apply for 'employment' within the Casino Royale in hopes of getting insider information on where the flash drive is hidden and what it looks like. However, it seems that even the employees have no clue where it has been hidden. This is an extension of our Aphaia Mission! We have included enough information in this post that catching up to current in game logs isn't necessary to play with it, but you are welcome to use any part of the Aphaia setting in your prompts as you'd like. Current players are also welcome to bring the events from this TDM into their in-game threads. This mission can happen outside of time as needed! Incoming characters will find themselves introduced to Aphaia as they arrive. Current characters may find Aurora calling on them to visit Aphaia after the current mission for the Gamerunner's Stratagem. Characters already in game are welcome to post to the TDM, too! Please mark them as current characters in your header. Threads can be kept as game canon as long as both characters get into the game! Please direct all questions relating to this log to our mod queries comment! All other questions can be directed to our FAQ. |
no subject
Okay.
Well, that's a lot. Quentin stops pacing and just. Stares at her, stunned for a moment. What the hell is she talking about—the first one that says hi? Really??]
You turned me down, Sophie! I don't think it's even possible to reject someone harder than you rejected me. What, was I supposed to tell Phoebe "sorry, your sister has first right of refusal"? I moved on.
[Quentin turns and takes a step towards her, gesturing emphatically with his hands in a chopping motion.]
Do I really need to spell this out for you? Phoebe didn't replace you. Couldn't have. Because we were never together. Understand?
no subject
This grilling feels horrible, no one other than Esme really grills her, so the anger morphs into a whole blurb of confusion, indignation, feeling misheard and misunderstood, and then into immediate regret. This is unusual, never seen before, never experienced before, unexpected, and she feels...
Upset. Of course they've never been together, she never wanted to, will never want to. That's not what she is saying, but if he refuses to see how fucking weird the whole thing is, and she doesn't even know the fucked up part of it, then she's done.
Now she's the one that feels resigned, tired. Alone. Tired, resigned, alone. Alone, dealing with this shit alone. Never seen before. Her brain searches, searches, searches, bounces by his, not the one she wants, bounces through everyone in this building, and nothing. She has never wanted Esme in her brain so badly.
Esme is a bitch. If she had damn Esme, she'd definitely have won this.
Sophie is not Esme. Sophie is... Trying. Trying so hard. So, instead of yelling back, she's just taking the champagne bottle and her own glass back to the couch to breathe.)
You win. Happy? Fine. You win.
no subject
I wasn't trying to—[He sighs harshly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.]
Look, I don't even remember when Phoebe and I got together. Okay? I kept dying, and it just kinda happened.
[He stops, visibly hears himself say that, and winces. Not better. He makes a silent "why me" gesture with his hands and walks over to her table, plopping himself down in a chair and melodramatically collapsing his whole upper body on the table with a dull thud. Just end him.]
no subject
Mental breathe in, mental breathe out, unmute. She'd laugh at the dramatic antics if she wasn't so ridiculously weary. She's still stupidly searching, after all, the building over, brain after brain, cells to cells. Nothing.)
Quire, I said you win. Do you really want to keep at this conversation so we can dig ourselves even deeper into the hot garbage container that is literally anything you or me, or do you want to do the normal thing for fucking once and get a hangover that won't solve shit and pretend we never had this conversation?
no subject
Quentin keeps his head on the table. He's not moving. Maybe ever. Just bury him here.
He reaches out with his mind again for the first time in... a tense few moments there. But he's tired, sulky, and he doesn't feel like using his physical vocal cords anymore.]
/Do you have another glass?/
no subject
Like she said, it doesn't fix shit. It's still somewhat better than whatever they've been doing for the past minutes.
She has one more glass, and hopefully that one doesn't break. She's not going to pick it up, but her hand waves and the cabinet door opens. He can get it on his own.
The street in front of the building is also devoid of Cuckoos.)
/Neutral topic. Have you met Teen Angst Slim yet? Or any of the other mutants we got, aside from me and Julian?/
no subject
He's still not lifting his head, so he borrows Sophie's eyes for a brief moment as she looks at the cabinet and opens it. From there he can visualize where the glass is and float it to himself.]
/Icarus, Hope, Storm, Nate-the-one-that-isn't-Cable, uh. Foley's around here somewhere, I think. Jean. No Teen Angst Slim. Or any Slim. I am 100% Slim-less./
no subject
(No experience there. The Cuckoos came out of the tube like this.
His use of her eyes doesn't bother her at all, it's weirdly comforting having someone in her brain experiencing things as she does. It's normal, except for the fact she's not doing the same, and Quentin is just one.
Little longing sigh here. Kid Cable would be nice, but instead of lingering, she shakes her head before she's back to tasting the bubbles.
In his brain, behold. Extra Slim, Jean Grey Apologist in a brief image.)
/He's definitely 14. Or 16. Or whatever./
no subject
/Looks like a dweeb./ [Because Quentin can judge.]
/Great, not just a little teeny weeny Scotty Summers, but an inexperienced one? I vote we dump that one on Guthrie./
[Quentin grudgingly lifts his head with a dramatic groan and brings the champagne bottle over to his table, telekinetically pouring it. He downs the full glass in a gulp and clonks his head back to the table.]
/Halfway decent rosé, at least. I have good taste./
no subject
(In what world is that not concerning, to be seen.)
/They got the school back in Etraya, Julian was talking about remodelling it so we can all move in, I'm trying to convince dearest darling Hellion to bring him along./
(That includes her and Quentin, she knows he gets the message. Now that the nerves are settled, she can actually give a little snorted chuckle at the dramatics he's displaying, although she's not exactly sure why he is still doing it. At least be comfortable, dumbass, which is why she takes one of the cushions from the couch before she walks towards him.
If he lets her, she'll just borrow his head to lift a little and sneak the cushion under it before she lets go. If not, she's just leaving it there before taking the bottle to fill her cup.
They might need more than one.)
/It's not bad. We should get some delivery, I don't think one bottle is gonna do the trick./
no subject
/You know, just because Keller says he's the boss doesn't mean we have to ask him permission. What's he gonna do, fire us?/
[He looks up when she tries to move his head, raising an eyebrow before he takes the pillow. Sure. why not. He doesn't put his head back down on it though, just uses it to cushion his elbow while he leans his head against his hand.]
/If you're getting delivery, add food. I'm famished./
no subject
(There we go, Quire, at least your forehead isn't going to take the shape of the wood lines.
Her eyes turn pink, characteristic to what she is doing — she did already check the entire street, the one next, so she can find someone whose ranking is good enough to not take a hit from their little scheme. )
/Ugh, by the way. I'm pretty sure they really did drop me here alone, but I'm still trying to find out if anyone's seen them or if they're here, but since I did the whole no-contact thing, it's a bit harder. Can you do me a solid and let me know if you pick up on them? Especially Esme. Even if she's definitely gonna try to kill me again./
no subject
[Said like this is entirely normal. Because for Quentin it is.]
/Oh, and doesn't matter as long as it's carbs./
[Stupid secondary mutation requiring a high glucose diet. He furrows his brow in mild confusion.]
/Why Esme?/
no subject
(So, no, then. That's both a relief and a huge bummer, a rollercoaster of emotions he might feel from her, almost a mental sigh, and a full heart clutch. Once he answers, she just gets whoever is closer to a restaurant to buy two pasta dishes and two bottles of champagne. She could be much subtler than that, much, much sneakier, but it's not like they'll be here long enough for that to matter, anyway.
The guy should be here in a bit.)
/Pasta it is, not carbonara because it'll turn into a disgusting mush before it gets here, so... Tagliatelle alla Bolognese./
(She's going to be actively up in the dude's head, just in. Ugh, the shit this dude did in the Colosseum. Gross. She's not paying him back.)
/Oh. Right. Disclaimer, I love her and I forgave her, but Esme has this thing that she wants to be the strongest Cuckoo or whatever, so, she likes fucking over the actual strongest Cuckoo. The riot was just one time she did it, so, if it's just me and her, you know, chances of her getting a little overcompetitive and a little murder-y are super high./
no subject
[Oh, ew, that was very "nice guy" white knight, wasn't it? Gross. Quentin cringes at himself.
Unfortunately now that his face is no longer plastered to the table, he has to look at and be reminded that it's Sophie Cuckoo over there drinking way too much booze with him, and he abruptly realizes that he's now the one getting takeout and champagne with her and not Julian. Does that make this a date? He's guessing that's a big no. For any number of well-established reasons. Then again, it also wasn't with Julian either. Which Quentin knew, he just had to open his big fat brain-mouth. Ugh.]
/Right, yeah, pasta's good. Back home we have Glob making all our food. Hell of a cook, but he's a vegetarian. Been ages since I've had beef or pork./
1/2
(She's cringing too, don't worry, he's not alone.)
2/2
Also, she did go on a date with Keller just after he accused her of being in one, so if anything, that one is on him for opening his big fat brain-mouth, too. It was nice, at least.
ETA for food, 10 minutes.)
/Glob... Herman? You two are still friends? I remember him./
no subject
At least she gave him something more pleasant to talk about.]
/Reconnected after Krakoa. We're in Alaska, in an abandoned Sentinel factory. More hospitable than it sounds, mostly thanks to Glob. Summers runs a squad up there now./
no subject
It's just second nature for her to share these things, so she doesn't even notice the comfort it brings her.
Lobby. Elevator.)
/The last thing an abandoned Sentinel factory in Alaska sounds like is hospitable, but if you say so. Summers, though? How is that going?/
no subject
Instead, he turns his attention to Alaska. He lets her see the factory—cozy in an "industrial chic" kind of way—and a brief montage of his team and the two bizarre new adult mutants they've picked up as he explains, and with their faces comes a feeling of fondness. Like... family. There's also a particularly nice memory fragment of a lovely quiche that floats through the psychic connection.]
/It's... good. Weirdly enough. It's me, Idie, Kwannon, Cain, Ilyana, and Slim on the field team. Glob, Magneto, Xorn, and McCoy stay home. It's a, uh. Different McCoy. Younger clone, long story. And we've got two newbies hanging around. You know how it goes./
no subject
Not that there's the opportunity to address it, thankfully, because now she's watching his affection, the family he created for himself back home. It brings a rather dulcet smile to Sophie's face, overlooked and unnoticed by her as she is inundated with comfort.
... That's actually very nice. Good job, Quire.)
/So, out doing X-Men shit. Feels... Pretty nice, actually, surprisingly so. Do you ever take vacations, though, Quire?/
(She's just teasing, although her eyes stop glowing and she stands to open the door and bring in the food and the drinks. Guy's gonna be returned, it's fine. For now, she'll sit next to him to settle everything on the table in front of him, a gentle nudge to his shoulder with her own.
There. Eat.)
/We're making a little community on my end. Free food, a little market, kind of a safe haven deal. Since we got David a little fired, he took the curriculum to NYX and sits on his Lord chair, Kamala is the bouncer, Anole, me, and Laura, when she's around that is, mostly help with everything else./
no subject
/You guys should come visit the factory sometime. Glob's great at feeding a ton of people. Dude loves it./
[Whether that invitation includes the other Cuckoos is up for debate. Quentin's thoughts pointedly steer clear of considering that and quickly move on to the food. He leans over the container and breathes in the aroma, a smile starting to quirk up at the corners of his mouth.]
/Damn. You never realize how much you miss meat until you have to eat tofu for months on end./
no subject
She doesn't want to think about this temporary truce, either, other than just having it. It's not really like all the hurt has gone away, the resentments, but it can all go to the back burner for now. Sophie can enjoy her food, not being alone, the brain he happens to have that she can't help but find cozy. Is that weird? That's probably weird. Ugh.)
/Homemade might be good. I can't cook to save my life and I got expensive taste, so my credit card and mum gotta suffer through it./
(Although, let's be real, it's not like Sophie's spending habits cause a dent on the Frost Fund.
She can feel the steam on his face, the anticipation, and she'll grab her own container to take a bite already because it's killing her to wait.
It's nice. God, she's got good taste.)
/Which, speaking of. If we're all gonna live under the same roof again, I guess someone has got to figure out the food situation. Unless we want to rebuild that school again, the kitchen is off-limits for me. At least you get to eat all the meat in the world, until you get sick of it and crave tofu./
no subject
Solidly in the "good weird" category, however? Sharing brain space with someone while eating delicious food, especially once Quentin starts tucking into his serving too. That's good shit right there.]
/Bet you Guthrie can cook. Other than that? Questionable. I don't know if Elixir even needs to eat./
no subject
/Questionable is a word. Julian has one bar of soap in his bathroom, my expectations for his self-care skills are kinda in the bin, Nate looks confused about pretty much everything, Kid Cyclops might bite if we tell him to cook, and I don't know everyone else well enough to make a guess. Maybe we'll just live out of take-out and insta noodles for a bit./