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buttrinthum2023-01-01 04:59 pm
TDM #1
Whether it be sleep or death, you feel your eyes close, and as your body begins to let go, you see a barn owl that is flying through the darkness, soon sweeping you across the clouded sky. You feel yourself mouth the words, “I wish, I wish..” and utter your deepest and darkest desire.
When you regain consciousness, you’ll find you are in an unfamiliar place with no recognition of how you arrived here. You have the clothes on your back, but nothing else. No weapons and if you had a particular superpower, you’ll notice it is missing. All you have is a satchel with a piece of bread, a vial of water and a potion. The potion could be red, blue or golden. There are no instructions about these potions other than two words: Drink Me.
Will you drink it or not?
There is a parchment, handwritten, and it simply gives you a welcoming:
“Welcome to my Labyrinth. Per our agreement, you have consented to live your life here for an undetermined amount of time. In exchange, I will grant you the wish that you desire the most.”
You’re in a garden, surrounded by flowers and plants– most of which you cannot identify. However, there are a few that you can make out: poinsettias and mistletoe. You’ll soon find out that being around the poinsettias give you an odd sense of joy no matter how confusing the situation may seem and the mistletoe, which is left over from the holiday season, gives you the desire to kiss or hold hands with the nearest person to you. It looks like there are plenty of others who are just now waking up from their dream-state as well.. why not go ahead and say hello?
With the influx of new life, the humble town a barkeep tells you is called Somnius seems to come alive as well, with new faces to join that of the resident fairies, goblins and other townfolk. There’s bustling energy to the land that the townfolk will tell you wasn’t quite there before, and some suspect that the presence of the new arrivals might be powering the world around them in some way - but that’s a question to be answered on another day. The quaint town of Somnius needs a little bit of care, that rustic feel to the mushroom houses, old shops and weathered castles too evident at first glance, but it’s not a bad place to live, as the locals will tell you. It almost seems like everything will be okay…
But of course, things are never so simple.
Whether you have been wandering around to get your bearings, talking to the locals or exploring your new humble (very humble) abode, you can expect to find mysterious ice sculptures - fashioned in the shape of snow angels, with blades in their hands - appearing in random places around the town. There are some that manifest in the middle of the street, some that sit quietly at the edge of an inn, and even some that appear right beside your bed, staring at you as you wake up. It’s unclear how these sculptures even got here, but close proximity to them will conjure up feelings of unrest, like you should not step any closer.
It’s smart to trust your gut in these situations. Step too close to a snow angel and it will come to life, moving with the grace of flowing water. They make a vague request and will spare only those able to heed it.
“Cold … so cold … Even the days of Visium are so cold. Have you any warmth to spare us?”
Some angels will accept an article of clothing as warmth. Others are greedy and keep demanding more, wanting to take everything that you have on your body. Heed their requests and they will spare you. Resist even just a little, and that’s when they draw their swords.
It’s not too easy to defeat an angel with brute force given that they reform themselves immediately. Running away or blasting them with fire could do the trick. Be careful not to get cut by their blades, however…
Characters who get cut by their blades will experience an inconsolable sense of chill and emptiness, right down to their bones. They will find themselves desiring ‘warmth’ from others in different ways - whether through physical contact, or affectionate words and gestures. There might be the few who go feverish in their desire for warmth. For those characters – the open fireplace is looking like a very tantalizing place to sit in right now (Yes, sit in, not by). They might even feel compelled to pull a friend in with them. That can’t be good for anyone…
The effects will only subside if the condition of receiving ‘warmth’ is met. This can be in the literal sense (physical warmth and intimacy) or figurative (feelings of love, acceptance and happiness).
When night falls, the temperatures only drop further, which does no favours for the poor souls who had to give up their clothing. The locals want to welcome the new arrivals and give everyone an opportunity to unwind from a busy and chaotic day of being hunted by snow sculptures. That’s why they’ve set up a gathering in the middle of town square. Food and alcohol is being generously supplied by The Cask & Anvil, and marketplace vendors have set up pop up stands to try and cajole the new arrivals into purchasing some fancy new clothes or a pretty gemstone they claim will ward off danger (claims not verified).
At the center of it all is a large bonfire that’s warming up the square. Everyone is encouraged to warm themselves by it after a long day, eat, and make merry. In fact, there’s a certain sense of enchantment to the crackling fire that seems to draw even the shiest wallflower in, pushing them to sit with others and make conversation. As the night goes on, the newly arrived dreamers will find themselves settling easily into the warm and bustling mood, any stresses and anxieties melting away. With time, they’ll start to find themselves without a filter, more than happy to talk about themselves and the life they had led prior to coming to Visium. In fact, they will feel compelled to share a story from their past - one that might be joyous, comedic, thrilling, or tragic. Whatever sorts of feelings come attached to their story, it will be one of emotional significance.
In the back of their minds, they might get the sense someone else is listening.
Welcome to the labyrinthum TDM! Characters will arrive depowered and with only their clothing, and will be given a satchel with a crystal pendant, a communication device, some water and bread and a magic potion. If they drink the potion, they will manifest an elemental, healing or animal transformation ability.
With the exception of Castle Vaeros, characters are free to go as they please, so feel free to place them in any of the locations available on the map. Yes, this includes the Labyrinth - though characters will not be able to clear the maze. Please comment here to request an outcome for your character's labyrinth exploration and a moderator will get to you shortly. (The longest a character can stay in the Labyrinth is 3 days.)
You can find more information about the game here. Any questions regarding the TDM can go under the comment below.
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So he watches with bated breath, and waits.]
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It stands to reason that if he's in a world, stripped of his magic... then so too is he stripped of his monster-vulnerabilities. Mettaton's played this game before, he's danced these steps- and once he draws the angel away from Basil far enough with cajoles and sweet nothings, offerings of warmth and comfort only to continue backing away, that blade was destined for him. The snow angel approaches swiftly enough with one final, fluid stroke of its blade, cutting through the air--
and plunging that blade into Mettaton's chassis. ...Or, uh, against it. The blade does knick him, scarring along the side of his body with a terrible screech, but it otherwise does very little at all, it seems. Mettaton stills entirely, a dramatic gasp there to pair with his statuesque rigidity.]
OH...! [And even his theatrics are touched by the urgency of pervasive chill, as his entire mechanical body feels affronted with a burn that feels more like ice. The robotic star, raising a trembling hand, reaches out for the angel as it departs now that it's done its deed- and Mettaton falls with a thud, another gasp, a gag, a clutch of his... chest.]
HAVE... MERCY... YOU- SLAY ME, AND JUST L-LIKE THAT... YOU LEAVE ME IN THE COLD? LIKE ICE, Y... YOUR HEART. [Wow. This is a dramtic performance infused with realism, as Mettaton's really trembling... He's a metal rectangle...
But the snow angel does make to leave, through with Mettaton- as it returns to Basil's humble mushroom. It investigates quietly, before flowing away like water.]
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It's an immense relief to see it gone, but...well, how is Basil supposed to know that Mettaton is still in one piece? As nervous as he is, he does quickly get back up to his feet so he can hurry over to the robot's side (all while keeping a respectful distance still, just in case).]
A...are you okay?
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He's not dying at all. But his dramatics are excessive as he copes with the fact that he's a spontaneously vibrating box on the ground, trembling in episodic fits of the mockery of "cold." Basil's approach prompts him to lift a shaky hand.]
D... DARLING. IS... IS THE COAST CLEAR ONCE AGAIN? [His screen is totally dim, though it flickers red with each of his "coughs." Sometimes he actually says,] *COUGH, COUGH*... AND YOU. IT DIDN'T GET... YOU...?
[He's dying it is very believable.]
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I-it didn't! It's gone...I'm fine...
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From his place on the ground, his raised hand... changes into a thumbs-up.]
F-F-FABULOUS... [He sounds like he's dysfunctioning or something, his voice stuttered through static.] THAT'S WH-WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR!
[This doesn't clarify what Mettaton's going through, because he's not quite sure what this sensation is. So he tries at it, his arm piling up in a heap next to his body.]
DON'T MIND ME, DARLING. I M-MAY BE SPASMING... BUT I CAN TELL. I HAVE NO INTERNAL DAMAGE. HOWEVER. I F- F- F- F... (MERCY ME.) FEEL, SOMETHING AKIN TO THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE... "COLD."
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[Cold...that would make sense. He got up close and personal with a creature made out of solid (presumably magic) ice, after all. Basil would be surprised if he wasn't cold...can robots feel cold, though? Maybe this kind he can...again, because of the magic and all.
Basil purses his lips...and before he can think better of it, he's reaching for one of Mettaton's long arms and is trying to help tug him to his...wheel. Upright, if it can be managed.]
It's warm inside my house. We...we should get back there.
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At least he's able to compose himself, and uses his other arm to help propel himself upright. Basil's not stuck with that impossible task on his own. But standing upright, Mettaton's screen flickers with chill, and he draws his free arm close to his body like clutching himself might help.]
... YES. I CAN'T MUSTER THE STRENGTH TO THINK OF-F-F-F AN ALTERNATIVE. [How was he feeling cold?? He normally couldn't feel cold as a robot, and never had been able to before. But he knows the feeling- he's been through a lot at this point, and had the pleasure of inhabiting an organic body at some point.] ONWARD, TO YOUR FUNGUS-SHAPED ABODE. I... I DON'T UNDERSTAND... H-HOW I COULD BE COLD.
[Like it needs clarifying, he gently tugs on Basil to get him to look at him.] I'M MADE OF METAL.
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[Oh, thank god Mettaton was able to push himself up. Just a single, slight attempt at helping to lift him was all it took for Basil to realize that was simply not going to happen, at least not without help. Honestly, he's mostly just here for moral support at that point.
He will start to guide Mettaton with him back to his house though, which is- fortunately for both of them- not all that far away.]
Maybe...maybe it's magic?
[What is everything here if not magic so far]
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[This wasn't the first time he'd arrived in some strange world, stripped of all his magic. And just like last time, it really stripped him of it: as a monster, he was supposed to be made of magic entirely. Without, he felt... hollow. And now he just felt cold. Weird!
Basil and Mettaton are luckily able to make it to his modest house with ease. And as soon as they do, the robotic star sighs, slamming his metal back against the wall closest to the doorway and slumping against it with a groan.]
WELL! AT LEAST IT SHOULDN'T BE LETHAL! [He could actually tell that the snow angel wasn't trying to kill him, too... Monster intuition. It was just to share its frigidness, really. But he's also a robot, and he'll pretend to be one through and through.] BETTER TO STAB A ROBOT THAN A HUMAN. I MAY SUSTAIN DAMAGE... B-BUT I CAN BE REPAIRED. AH... BUT, DARLING. HOW WOULD YOU WARM UP, IF YOU W... WERE COLD?
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[With the knowledge that Mettaton is secure where he is, Basil darts off to elsewhere in the cottage, rummaging through his meager belongings. He doesn't have a whole lot- and none of these things truly feel like his since it's all stuff that was mostly here already- but eventually he'll return with a patchwork blanket befitting that of a quaint house designed to look like a mushroom.
That gets draped carefully around and over Mettaton's boxy frame, like...putting a sheet over a table. Hm.]
...does that help at all?
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He barely even perceives Basil's return, but as soon as he has a blanket draped over his figure, he reflexively grips its corners to swaddle himself the way someone might if they understood the insulation a blanket might promise. His screen remains dim, and Mettaton even withdraws that single pole he rocks upon in order to sit statically upon Basil's floor. ...Half-way blocking the front door, apparently. It's fine.]
... AH... A BLANKET. [...He couldn't really perceive warmth or cold. Why was this happening? The gesture itself, though... He sighs.] YES... IN TIME, I I-IMAGINE THIS WILL HELP. THOUGH... COULD YOU CHECK, DARLING? AM I PRODUCING ANY HEAT, OR DO I STILL FEEL POSITIVELY FRIGID TO THE TOUCH?
[Answer: he feels like a metal surface in the ambient temperature of Freezing.]
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Basil continues to hover nearby, nervously watching to see if the blanket helps at all...and when asked, he'll gently put both hands flat against Mettaton's metal body. And yes, he is very, very cold. Like a car that's been sitting outside in the snow.]
No...you're still really cold...
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Or they'd simply stab Mettaton again. Can he endure two stabs?? Surely.
Mettaton shudders a sigh, collapsing back against the door's frame. Shambling snow sculptures are the last of his worries now...]
CURSES! [That blanket is drawn more tightly than ever.] PERHAPS IT'LL T-TAKE TIME, THEN. BUT... WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME, SO THAT I MIGHT KNOW WHO I'VE J-JUST DASHINGLY RESCUED?
[Priorities.]