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etrayamemes2025-05-30 09:20 am
etrayamods) wrote in etrayamemes2025-05-30 09:20 am
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TDM 008
content warnings for this TDM include: gambling references, mild horror themes and suggestive content  ⏵ arrival⏴ Arrival does not happen as Aurora usually plans for it. Newcomers generally find themselves waking up within the hospital, are given a brief overview of their situation, and sent on their way. Now? They wake up immersed in a game within The Gold Saucer. But it doesn't quite feel like a game: whether it's snowy mountains, riding a chocobo as you listened to the wind quickly pass by your ears, or in the middle of a battle with a beast, it feels utterly real. It's only after the game concludes - either by winning or losing - that you find yourself back in the main game area. A bot, dressed as personnel in this lavish playground, approaches each arrival with an earpiece allowing them to communicate with those in their same situation. It also serves to inform them of their goal: collect enough gold saucer points (or GP) by playing the games to acquire a card fashioned to their own likeness from the game counter. Then, they must trade it for someone else's. Seems simple enough, right? Hopefully the cards aren't too expensive...  ⏵ the gold saucer ⏴ The Gold Saucer is an ode to the very idea of fun. It’s huge, labyrinthine, colorful, and lively. Everywhere you look, there’s something to do. At the same time, it’s also impossible to tell what time it is. There are no windows to the outside, there are no clocks. This place is beyond such a thing. There are games everywhere you look, ranging from the pseudo-gambling to sports to pixelated video games in cabinets. Yet no matter which boxing game, pinball machine, or skeeball machine you look at, the same creatures and themes arrive. Cactuars, chocobos, the fiercest Behemoth, the cuddliest Moogle… For those from the realms of Final Fantasy, this will feel natural- homey even. Everyone else will simply understand that there is a fairly strong central theme here about magic, machines, and monsters. It’s hard to tell how long you spend here, and it seems to sit outside of the very concept of time. Still, there are many restaurants, lounges, and vending machines. There are shops and costume rentals. There are even little pharmacies with headache remedies if the partying gets out of hand. And when you grow tired, there is a hotel- though it is made up like a haunted house, you can count on getting some semi-restful sleep.  ⏵ playtime ⏴ At first, stepping through to play any of these games may make participants wonder if they have been teleported somewhere else entirely. But on closer inspection, all the skies above are merely well-constructed interiors with painted ceilings. After all, it always seems to be daytime during these games. Snowboarding - Race to the bottom of the mountain, but avoid obstacles and complete as many tricks as possible! Chocobo Racing- Race on Chocobo-back around a treacherous outdoors race track which can either be taking place in a desert, a swampy forest, or upon an island beach. Work in tandem with your rented bird and against your competition by throwing hazards in their way or utilizing buffs garnered on the track. Different colored birds will yield different advantages. Yellow - Good All Rounder Red - Fast, but hard to steer Blue - Slower, but very easy to steer. Much easier to pick up items from them. Green- Resilient against traps and sabotage Colosseum Battle- Face off against the fiercest beasts around. Pair up with friends or rivals to Collaborate or Compete to do the most damage and deliver the final blow. These battles are synced to the comparative power of the one entering the competition. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt unnecessarily, after all. And indeed, no one will get seriously, gruesomely, or permanently injured in these battles. Those without fighting capabilities can rent weapons outfitted Materia to assist them in their trial. These will allow anyone to cast spells, though not guarantee any better wielding of weapons. There are a hundred rounds, starting with fairly simple Spriggans, ranging all the way up to blood-thirsty Behemoths to challenge even the most battle-hardened hero. Leap of Faith- Players are presented with an obstacle course that stretches a hundred feet into the air upon floating platforms and islands. Both are held aloft by magical crystals. Powers are entirely nerfed, though falling and hitting the ground is strangely painless. Those who collect the most silver and gold statuettes of cactuars placed at random throughout the course will be awarded proportionate GP; though there is a bonus for those that reach the very top first. Triple Triad- Everywhere you look, people are playing this game on little 3 by 3 boards, or any surface with enough space. You will be given a loaner deck to play with. Are you clever enough to defeat your fellows. Fashion Report- Theobold, familiar to some, stands by himself in a little booth with a dressing room and an incredibly expansive walk-in closet. He is a robot of distinguished fashion and strong opinions on those fashions. Do you dare subject yourself to his scrutiny? Come prepare in his wondrous closets to make the best outfit for the chance to win a prize. Please submit your fashion here! There are Arcade Machines and activities galore. If you can think of it, it’s probably there- Just with that Final Fantasy pastiche on it, of course.  ⏵ the beehive lounge ⏴ There are other places to eat at the Gold Saucer, but the vending machines and cafés all pale in comparison to the dinners at the Beehive. For all the rave reviews, there is a dress code at the Beehive, and this is literal. If you step inside and are not currently wearing a dress, you will be ushered into a sideroom and appropriately made over. However, this is only for those trying to go in through the normal doors. Around the side there happens to be an employee entrance, manned by a bot. He will only allow those in who seem like they intend to work— and therefore must be wearing at least one piece of the Bunnysuit Collection to trick the guard. Once you are made over or have snuck in, you are free to relax inside with drinks, dine on a fine meal, watch the dancers, or participate yourself if you feel brave enough. Why would anyone ever dance here? Well, that’s simple. It pays really well. So if you’re sick of games, or terrible at them— you can always come dance for a shift. Though, don't get any unseemly ideas about freeing yourself of your clothing, this isn't that kind of establishment!  ⏵ haunted house ⏴ When you grow too weary or drunk from a day of games, you may be directed to somewhere a little quieter to sleep. Up the elevator, and through the doors reveals a modest walk through some woods until a quaint, victorian hotel appears. It is always nighttime here, and the stars and moon twinkle above. The receptionist, a bot in a rather bedraggled-looking chocobo mascot costume checks you in and shows you to your room. You can sleep here, especially if you can tolerate the hokey haunted decorations strung up around the place. Though sometimes, late at night, there will come a vigorous thumping on the door to startle sleeping patrons awake- Only for the culprit to vanish and be impossible to locate.  ⏵ ticket counter ⏴ The prize counter is manned by a bot and has a sign posted overhead. Most prizes will be handed over inside an appropriately sized wrapped box, as the contents are a mystery.
This TDM may be treated as a mini-Mission. Time will not pass inside of it in relation to the world outside - meaning, this can be happening at any time between late May into early July! This Gold Saucer is a bit of a mix between that of FF7's and FF14's, but it also has some things that neither have as well. Any inaccuracies are entirely intentional, aimed to make this rest within a space of uncanny valley for those who are familiar. While otherwise being a bit of a chaotic fantastical funhouse for everyone else! If there is something unlisted, chances are it will exist if it is in either of the other versions of the Gold Saucer. 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 to our mod queries comment! |
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How complicated are his emotions allowed to be? Can he look at Alicia and somehow simultaneously be so worried for her future that it makes his stomach roil but also resent her for the cost her foolishness has had? Could he understand Renoir's decisions and simultaneously hate him for abandonment? When he thinks of Aline, does he only worry without also being angry that she spent their lives teaching them lessons she abandoned when the pain reached her?
Can he resent Clea for being the daughter their parents said they wanted while somehow still always being there when she'd needed it?
She doesn't know.
Clea snorts at his retort. ]
You're right. I left out part of the truth: I'm actually an immortal vampire. We're all vampires. Aline is self-conscious about the fangs; that's why you do not have them. And why there are almost no mirrors in the Canvas outside of Lumiere.
[Not at all because she'd found mirrors too difficult to Paint at the time, so she and Verso had shrugged and decided they weren't that important.
It's good that he gave her an honest answer. Well. She can't know that. He is based on Verso. But he doesn't patronize her, or reassure her that everything will be okay. Still, though, there's a naivety to his answer that unsettles her. A conversation? It will take much more than a conversation to begin to repair what has happened.]
The Gestrals barely have a concept of time and you still can't make it?
[She eyes him up and down again with a practiced, judging eye.]
Distinct and good are two entirely different concepts, Verso. Though I agree: You could look worse. You could be completely bald.
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[ A casual reply in response with a small smile tossed back in return.
He opens his mouth like he might explain more -- why he feels like she would live forever. But those are complicated thoughts tangled in complicated feelings. Not all those feelings are even his.
But he often feels much of what he feels isn't him. It is as he told Renoir before: he's trapped in the shadow of a dead man. However, that is not her fault; that's not his fault. So why make it theirs to correct?
It's already been corrected and he simply needs to keep protecting the world Clea lives. Then he'll be allowed to returned to oblivion. Perhaps, that is the greatest reward that awaits him. Perhaps...
He bounces his shoulders in a shrug at how he can't make appointments. ]
Time's hard.
[ It is his joke back --
-- but he pauses and looks at her. ]
You don't have to call me that, Clea. [ She doesn't have to refer to him as "Verso." It's what he decides he should say first before they return to lightly joking with one another. ]
Although, I do intend to go by that name... you don't have to call me that...
[ But his tone shifts to its playful tone once more; he's said his peace and hopefully given her a sense of it as well: ] And if it makes you feel better, I did almost go bald once. That Gestral assistant just wasn't that good with hair products, but thankfully, you know... being able to control one's healing is quite useful at times.
no subject
[ The retort slips out before Clea can stop it, and she immediately looks... not chagrined, as that is not an emotion Clea Dessendre expresses. Something else. Something more complicated. Regret is a part. So is anger. At herself. She crosses her arms, unconsciously defensive. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Her voice is clipped and she's vocally disgusted with herself for getting into a situation where she had to apologize. For foolishly allowing the man's eyes and voice and... for speaking as though he's someone that they both know he's not. For her own weakness. She needs to be better than that. This man has only existed inside of the Cavnas - he doesn't know that time inside of the Canvas doesn't have a precise relationship to time outside, and the reason that sometimes a week in the Canvas is a day and sometimes it's two hours is because Clea had a hard time Painting time. Or that Verso used it as an excuse when they were children. ]
That's how I know you aren't my brother. He'd never give me permission to call him 'idiot'.
[ Because what else would she call him? Verso is the only name he has. She uncrosses her arms and sticks one hand into her skirt, fiddling with the cactus statue. It's grounding to touch something. She feels around the statue, visualizing it by touch. ]
Do you have another name you'd want me to use? Am I allowed to choose? I wanted Maman and Papa to name him Alvaret, but they never listen to me.
[ They could move on, but there's something Clea would like to address first. Her fingers trail the ridges of the cactus in her pocket. Travel over its little eyes and its open circular mouth. She certainly feels like she's full of needles. ]
I could let you be if you promise not to be stupid.
[ She doesn't know how he's here or how long he'll be able to 'live' - there's nowhere to attach his Chroma to. Nonetheless, he is one of Maman's art works and carries a piece of her brother's soul. Clea would be quite displeased if he were stolen and broken. That decision is to be made at home by the family.
'I could let you be' meaning 'do you want me to let you be?' He isn't her brother. Maybe at one time, Clea would balk at being somewhere like this alone, but what difference is there really between here and the manor? She's alone either way. ]
no subject
His head tilts to the side at the question if he has another name. He's used the same name for decades. He could've changed it. No one from Lumiere would know; no expeditioner would. If he asked, he thinks that the Gestrals, Monoco, and even Esquie would agree to his request.
He breathes out a little laugh through his nose. ]
You can call me "Alvaret," if you like. [ It probably would be easier than calling him "Verso" when she knows it isn't true. ] Still, I don't have another name but that ... [ No matter what he can't give it up.
In the end, he can't forsake his name. He can only forsake his existence yet never find it in him to blame anyone. One day ... others might end up calling Aline cruel for having made him, but he can't; he can't when he feels all the love and care she put into his monstrous existence.
As much as he hate himself, he loves those that love him so much more. ]
I'm afraid I'm nothing but stupid.
[ He finally smiles at her, soft and warm. She can stay close to him as long as it doesn't hurt. When it does, she can leave him. That much is fair and right. A dead man shouldn't shackle or command the living; he is on borrowed time and doesn't know how much he has left. Should he live it being unkind to someone who has been grieving without relief? ]
I don't know how much time I have left in this world, Clea, but... I won't hold you to what life I have, either. [ She deserves to find joy for herself. Perhaps, that is something Verso wanted to say to her? It's unclear. He is unsure, but -- ] I'm not him.
[ Something she knows; something they know, but -- ]
But still, since I don't know how long I have... would you like to say goodbye? Just in case?
[ Offer her what Renoir took out of her hands. A chance to say goodbye to him. He isn't asking to be Gommage but asking to take some of her burden; to take some of her pain; to be an imaginary friend to say her peace to with no one else to take those words away. ]
no subject
[ She is not going to steal the man's name from him. If he'd had one for himself, that would have been different, but it isn't her place to steal anything from him. Of course it's going to hurt - everything about him does. That doesn't mean she isn't going to do it. Watching Alicia struggle with her injuries hurt: The worry made her sick. Watching her parents' unmoving bodies hurts - dusting them like they are furniture in the manor. Seeing Monoco and Noco try to find Verso and only find her hurts.
It all hurts.
It's all necessary.]
Do you know how many Pierres there are in Paris? Two people can have the same name.
If you're so stupid, I suppose I have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't break yourself. Or someone else doesn't break you.
[ Everything hurts. That smile hurts. She feels as though her Dualliste has stabbed her between the ribs. It's his smile, and the last time she'd seen in, Clea hadn't known to hang on to it, to memorize what it looks like so she can hold it forever and maybe, sometime in the future, Paint that feeling. Not as the man in front of her was Painted, but a Painting so others can see that light. A tribute, not a mockery.
She isn't sure if he wants her around.
Is he telling her to say goodbye because he wants her to leave?
Selfishly, Clea decides she doesn't care. He's stupid and needs to be watched so Maman's creation isn't taken apart by anyone except them. But he's right. They don't know where they are or how long he can be here. Maybe it's only her brother's soul keeping him alive, and that's the part of him that wants to rest.
Sometimes, she imagines the piece of his soul like Verso when he'd barely learned to walk, toddling around the manor and crying when he would be lost in the dark at night looking for Maman. She'd hear him and go out to guide him back to bed.
She can guide him back to bed.
Clea steps forward and wraps her arms around the man who isn't her brother. If this is the last time she sees him, there are things she can say. Who is he going to tell that she's this weak?]
Thank you. Thank you for helping Maman. Thank you for looking after Alicia, and for trying to help me. I'm sorry you were made. Thank you for being a friend to Monoco, Esquie, and Francois.
[ She stays still for a moment, remembering what it feels like to hug him. She hadn't hugged Verso enough. ]
It isn't going to hurt. I know Maman made you able to feel pain, but the Gommage won't hurt.
[ Finally, she steps away, blinking a couple of times in quick succession to remove the tears that threaten to ruin the moment. ]
You'd better die soon so nobody knows I said those things.
[ The Versos may be the best, but they are not the only ones who wear masks. ]
no subject
He understands his existence is a drug to the Dessendres. It is why he can't stand to be in front of the real Renoir. He doesn't know how much he can see through the projection of the Curator. The fact the man lost his voice and could only speak in single, fragmented words. It hurt to see him in that state, but how much did it hurt Renoir to see him?
However, Clea has not been allowed to grief like the others. She has had to shove her pain away to move forward, but Verso would want her to take time for herself. He hears what she says and smiles in a soft, sad way.
He'll know before she does when she's gone too far. They can have that talk, then, if it ever were to happen. A painful, sad talk if she ever stops seeing him and sees a dead man in his place.
When she steps forward, he tilts his head in mild confusion. He waits to hear what she might stay but surprised when she embraces him. His shoulders drop as he lightly wraps one arm around her frame, lightly rests his hand on the back of her head.
He hears how she thanks him but doesn't quite believe it is for him. All but the part of how she's sorry how he was made. Yes, he's sorry about how he was made, too. A ball-jointed doll that is too fragile to be able to move without shattering all his pieces.
He loosens and lets his arms fall away when she steps back. He pretends not to see her tears and keeps his same, sad smile. ]
I know.
[ The Gommage has already happened. He's already dead. He's an echo of an echo. Even though he is himself; even though he was taken just before he vanished from the Canvas; he is still an afterimage of someone already gone. ]
No one will know what you've said to me, Clea.
[ A small sigh. ] You can share whatever you like... you deserve that much for yourself. [ Consider him just an imaginary friend. ]
no subject
Good. Ordinarily, I would threaten to murder you if you told anyone, but I want to discourage that behavior. You're so difficult; everything has to be different and special for you, doesn't it?
[ In truth, Clea isn't sure what she wants to share. Her sincerity seems to make a part of him uncomfortable. Or so she assumes, but she can never be sure if her assumptions are accurate when it comes to this Verso. If he were her Verso, it would obvious: That too breezy stance, the way he contorts himself to be what he thinks others need like a liquid being poured into a mold.
But this one, she cannot be sure. Aline is used to the world bending to her will. Does she see Verso doing so? Or does she assume that's his true self?
She doesn't know what to say. Does she talk about her anger? How she wants Renoir out of the Canvas and also wants to slap him across the face? Does she talk about wondering what would have happened if she had died or burned, about wondering why she is the one spared the permanent pains? About how she worries about Alicia but also sometimes despises her? She'd told the girl over and over not to be so credulous, had pushed her to understand the world. She'd continually refused and her actions had cost them all.
There is one thing.
Something she would not have told her Verso, but can voice to this one. An errant thought that sometimes assaults her like a pickpocket during the most mundane of tasks. ]
I don't know if I can stay.
[ It feels like giving voice to something forbidden. Clea's life had been shaped around her parents' expectations and needs, but now that mask is broken. She doesn't know if she can put it back together. ]
no subject
[ To threaten to kill him, but he only smiles. He understands how difficult that this must all be for her. Verso doesn't know if things have to be that way for him, but everyone he knows is different and special to him.
Even her.
His eyes close as he tilts his head away; his shoulders lift and lower in a small shrug. ]
Perhaps.
[ But he does feel the shift in energy, in the room. It seems like she does have something that she wants to tell him. His posture shifts and he focuses on her; all of his attention as he waits for her to speak.
"I don't know if I can stay."
Verso wonders if she means in the manor or around him. He can't imagine how difficult it is for everyone else to be allowed to mourn while she has to carry on everything herself. Of course, he would say that she could grieve, but grief itself is selfish.
It is what he told her and believes she has the right for that selfishness. Although, perhaps, that is simply how he is made. Because while his existence will hurt her, it at least won't be the cause of her death. It may be a cause for some other hidden wound in her heart, but he believes she will find the way forward.
He has hope in those he loves and as complicated as their relationship is, he does love her, too. Perhaps, that is some cognitive dissonance that the memories cause in him, but -- ]
You don't have to if it's too painful.
[ It is what he says finally. ]
You have your own life, too, and you can experience some of it now.
no subject
[ Of course. That's who she is, isn't it? Especially for him. Maman... he tries so much to be his own person, but he can't, can he? None of them can.
They exist as a mirage to bring Aline succor, and part of that mirage, that fantasy, is that everything can return to how it had once been, and that none of them could hold grudges against one another. That they all would be perfectly content no matter the circumstance. Verso should have attacked her when she'd come to him the second time. Refused to listen. Or run. Those would all have been normal reactions to the end of 'Expedition Zero'. If that had been real.
And yet he did not, because he does not have his own soul, and the soul inside of him loves and cares for her. Because he knows the truth of the things she tells him, and because Verso's soul still loves them. What he should feel for her is hatred. For the mistakes she's made, for the fact that the situation had degraded as it had. For the fact that she couldn't stop it, for the fact that she's the one alive and whole.
The soul of a child in the body of a man. How torturous that must be. What a conflict between heart and mind that must engender.
Hearing the words is a relief and Clea releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, closing her eyes and exhaling. Allowing herself to relax, even if only for seconds, her shoulders drooping.
Only for a moment, however. Then she draws in a breath and squares her shoulders back, posture returning to its usual impenetrable perfection. ]
Should I take Alicia?
[ She wants his opinion. He has seen her the most recently. Would it be more harmful for Alicia to be left with Aline and Renoir, who might abandon her, or to be stuck with only Clea for comfort? Who is a poor option indeed.
What would harm her less? ]