luxflowmod: (Default)
LUXFLOW MOD. ([personal profile] luxflowmod) wrote in [community profile] luxflowmemes2020-08-19 06:16 am
Entry tags:

+ TDM 001.

Welcome to Luxflow's first TDM.

Let's get into it.

ARRIVAL


— You wake up encased.

It’s dark, naturally, but a few tendrils of light slip past the — vines? Why are you tangled up in vines? It gives you panic — why can’t you remember — breath quickening, in and in and in again. Your frenzied movements against the vines let in more light, more air.

And you breathe.

As you exhale, a shaky but sure breath against the rough foliage, a light flows out of you. It’s just a little orb that pours out, past the greenery and into that unknown.

The vines melt away into ash, and you’re left standing in a clearing, trees impossibly tall and swaying in the night breeze. Your breath comes in deep and steady, now, and it occurs to you that you should be panicking still … But then as you look around the clearing, you see more vine cocoons, like yours, and others climbing out of them …

There’s people in the center of the clearing. They’re armed but they’re friendly, and they tell you in short and sweet sentences about the place you’re in now …

“ You’re in the Feeding Forest. ” says one, “ This place’ll eat you alive if you can’t break out of the vines. You must be special, huh? ”

Special?

“ C'mon, we’ll take you back to the city. You’re probably here for a while. We’ll fill you in … ”


SPIT SHINE YOUR BLACK CLOUDS


You're trying to get your bearings, but this City stops for no one.

On the next morning after your arrival, there's a festival! It's near the hole, Heart and Center, in the middle of the place. When you arrive there, you're fooled for a moment, and the place doesn't seem so scary; the colors are bright and the citizens are so cheerful as they dance and cheer on the new arrivals to strange music.

No one really knows why they're celebrating, but the arrival of the strange ones feels like it's heralding something good. Maybe there's unheard prayers that are being answered! Maybe their prayers will be answered! There's drinks and food and song, so why not join in? You can get drunk or high or just chill and take it all in.

Yet as the festivities burn on, the locals all hush at some point late in the evening. Words ripple through the throngs, and it reaches you fast. They're going to heave prayers up to the Setting Sun. But first, the great chasm needs an offering from those praying.

They throw in valuables and invaluables alike; drinks and food and clothes and jewelry and weapons and boomboxes are thrown in without a second thought.

What will you offer? If you choose to at all, you'll feel bereft; if it's a memory or power, a light will flow from your mouth and down into the chasm ...

They're silent thereafter in their prayer. Do you pray, too? If you do or you don't, you can't help but feel intense shame, like someone is laughing at you ... Still, after all that, the party continues on.

You're just a little more unsettled, now, a little more uncertain.


SILHOUETTE SALOON


The Silhouette Saloon is open! Or so the signage around town says. Excessive and garish, these signs point characters down a winding path into a place called the Silhouette Saloon. When you enter, everything goes white and everyone appears merely as shadows ... Pretty on the nose, but it provides a strange anonymity.

The fixtures of the saloon are all shadowed out too, stark black against the misty backdrop of white. You can drink here and be free to tell your secrets to anyone who'll listen. The bartender or maybe one of the dancers just finishing their set will tell you that this place keeps secrets.

If you were to tell someone a secret, or hear one, you wouldn't remember it exactly. You would, however, feel a strange nagging sensation about the person who told it to you. Once on the outside, you might not be able to get through a conversation with them without thinking they're hiding something ...

If you don't tell someone a secret, you'll feel compelled to tell someone one once you're out of the Saloon, where the secret won't be so hidden ... It might be better to tell one in the safety of anonymity then, hm?

But the longer you're in there, the more you lose of yourself. You'll forget your name, your purpose, everything about yourself until you pass out on the dance floor. You'll wake up outside the Saloon, stricken with amnesia. It'll wear off after a few hours, though.


PITY'S GOT AN UGLY PRICE TAG


Besides the Drifters and Givers, a new group has popped up. They're called the Pleading, or called plain annoying. They beg for anything you've got from the roadside, calling you over. If you hear them out, they'll hypnotize you in a way; they plead for anything you can possibly spare their poor soul -- the shirt off your back, a memory, an ability. Their sob story goes from believable to something horrifying and personal to you. They'll tell you your mother won't forgive you if you don't, or they'll tell you that the fate of your very best friend hinges on you giving them your wallet.

What do you do?

If someone breaks you out of the grasp of the Pleading's hypnosis, you'll be free.

If you give in, they'll take, and you'll be bereft of what you gave and that will be that.

If you don't, you'll feel immeasurable guilt, mounting more and more with each step ... You might have to be talked out of that guilt, or you might throw yourself into the chasm, inconsolable ...


DIGITAL VEIL ( network )


A question appears on the network. There's no handle attached.

BRUISES OR ROSES OR CRADLES OR COFFINS? WHY WHY WHY? :'D

Answers to this 'question' will be displayed to all; feel free to comment on others, try to gain some sense of what this could mean ... You can also post to the network freely.


QUESTIONS?


Ask below. Have fun.

funguy: (pic#7442941)

[personal profile] funguy 2020-08-23 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There’s a ferocious sort of expression on his face as some strange girl gets way too damn close, grabbing at him when the very last thing he wants is to be touched. Her hold on his shirt sleeve might have set them right before they could topple, but the instant after he’s sure his feet are back under him, Joel yanks back.

The ‘festival’ is still going on around them, and the bizarre setting is very fitting for the way he double-takes. It’s like looking at Ellie through a carnival funhouse mirror: the little girl he remembers as well as the back of his hand is all stretched out, familiar-but-not.

For the second time he feels as though the ground might just tip out from under him and send Joel careening down into the chasm as well. ]


Ellie? [ He asks it like he’s not quite sure – like he couldn’t spot that scarred eyebrow and freckled frown in an instant. One second he had been struggling to get her hand off of him, but in the next it was Joel who grabbed, fingers banded around her wrist. ]
notathreat: (15)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-23 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's his face, but wrong somehow -- off from her memories, and it takes her a second to realize that his crow's feet aren't so deep, that there's not so much silver in his hair and beard. Even the shirt he's wearing is one that she'd borrowed from him years ago and had never given back- she couldn't say where it is now, but the last time he wore it was...]

Joel.

[Ellie's voice is small, strained, and blurry with the hot knife-edge of tears. Her hand touches his, and the brush of half-missing fingers gives her a brief burst of wrong before she throws her free arm around his shoulders, and hugs him so tightly she might leave bruises. In his ear, she sucks back a sob.

She hasn't held onto him like this since he found her covered in blood and bruises, a machete in her hands, smeared with tears and ash.]
Edited 2020-08-23 20:46 (UTC)
deadanimemom: (31)

[personal profile] deadanimemom 2020-08-23 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Some setting questions!

If the sun is always in the same place in the sky, how is the day/night cycle defined (for example, the prompts mention "night breeze" and "the next morning")?

How does money work? Is there money? If so do characters get any money on arrival (or an ongoing allowance) or do they need to find employment right away? If they need to find jobs, what kind of jobs are available?
hopesong: (Lithe)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-23 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"I do happen to know them. Listened to them a fair bit when I was a teen. You're in luck." Also, the 90's weren't as bad as everyone says, music wise.

She moves her guitar into a position more suitable for playing than for resting, pressing her fingers to the strings in anticipation. She'd played a few of their songs for her fellow survivors back at that campfire.

"What song were you hopin' to hear?"
notathreat: (5)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-23 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ellie presses her lips together at his answer, nodding, tilting her head to one side. Even if she doesn't know his precise story, that's... the crux of it. Not much of a choice but to continue on living.

It isn't easy to decide to die, but... in some ways, it's even harder to keep on going.

He asks the real question next, like he can read her fucking mind, and Ellie rests her elbows on the bar, slowly rubs her palms together. Her hands are scarred, faint bruises on her knuckles.

The bartender comes by and puts an amber drink down in front of her, and she takes it like the glass will hold answers.]


I go back and forth.

[Ellie tips the drink back, swallows once without wincing, breathes out.]

I feel like I should stay alive, because if I'm alive when so many other people aren't, then I've gotta make that shit count. Other times... [She shakes her head.] I feel like if I could go out doing something worth it, then I could be fine with that.

[Ellie pauses, spinning her glass in her fingers, and stops it again.]

Being alive. Surviving. It's not the same thing as living.
funguy: (pic#14133595)

[personal profile] funguy 2020-08-23 09:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey, kiddo. [ It’s probably the wrong reaction, but his relief is instantaneous and overwhelming, and Joel lets loose a breathy laugh. She’s still got that hold on his hand, and any moment he’ll realize how wrong it feels, two fingers short of Ellie’s normal, but Joel loops his other arm around her as he’s yanked into an embrace. He should be unhappy she’s here, or perhaps even scared, but all he can think about is that he’s so glad to see her alive when he’s been wrapped up with worry since waking up in those choking vines. ]

Been lookin’ for you everywhere.

[ Like he’d just assumed she’d be around, even when the rest of the world had gone totally upside down. It’s hard to breathe with the way Ellie’s latched on, but he’s made no moves to shake her loose. ]
hopesong: All icons are commissioned from <user name=zeeco site=plurk.com> DNT (Boil Over)

pity

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-23 10:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's not one much for being grabbed, but these beggars, she's got nothing to give, and they're not getting her guitar. So while she offers to help in another way, they don't seem keen on it. They want something.

She can't help them. And when she's grabbed, she's almost thankful for it, though she can't help the quick fight she puts up before she manages to still her nerves, though she's not too fond of this stranger's tone.

She's not being put on the end of a meat hook. It'll be alright.
]

You got it, darlin'. Though asking nicely would suit you far better.

[... All in all, not the worst way she's ever been asked on a walk.]
snakehead: (Profile)

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-23 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm hoping someone here knows that, but I've yet to find them.

[Seeing as she seems to be in control of her faculties, he finally lets her go, moving his hands to his pockets instead.]
snakehead: (Blue)

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-23 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
One man's morbid is another man's realistic.

Yes, it is. Juvenile riddle for juvenile riddle.
snakehead: (Looking down)

Silhouette Saloon

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-23 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[What to do when you love to hear secrets and hate spilling your own? It's a terrible place to be, but at least the drinks are acceptable. Narek doesn't know where this 'Jackson' is, but he's hearing about all sorts of new places here.]

I've come to think lately that 'home' is less of a real place and more of a shared myth across cultures.
funguy: (pic#7380075)

[personal profile] funguy 2020-08-24 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
Mm. I think maybe you’re right. [ He lifts his glass in a toast. ] It definitely ain’t anythin’ as permanent as a place.

[ Reluctant, like he doesn’t want to let loose of the words: ] Never woulda left Texas if it were.
snakehead: (Leaning back)

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-24 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Narek lifts his glass as well.]

It's an idea, that either traps you where you were born or pushes you towards leaving to find.
funguy: (pic#7606538)

[personal profile] funguy 2020-08-24 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
Now it sounds like you’re talkin’ about family. They’re the ones who’ll trap you, or worse, they’ll… send you on your way. [ So much for drinking to forget. ] You think you can have one without the other? Home and family.
notathreat: (3)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
[It's the wrong reaction by several fucking years, but Ellie'll take it, after everything they've lost. She works her wrist out of his hold, reaches up to hold on with both arms, taking trembling breaths until they get under control.

She can feel his heartbeat. He's warm. He even smells right.

Even if this is some kind of dream or illusion, she can't be the least bit fucking mad.]


Yeah? [She gasps the word, like she's coming up for air, and the trembling finally starts to subside.]

How long've you been here?
notathreat: (7)

Digital Veil

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
okay: cradles and coffins: morbid as fuck
guns n' roses though, I will take
even if I am SLIGHTLY pissed that it takes being in some kind of purgatory to find someone else into them
the_brat: (vic6)

[personal profile] the_brat 2020-08-24 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
[She stood there, making sure it was gone for a moment before sighing, relieved for sure.]

Thank you.
funguy: (pic#7380077)

[personal profile] funguy 2020-08-24 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ She might be reassured, but with each second Joel’s finding things that are different. Ellie’s too tall, too broad, too wiry. Even her voice isn’t quite right – grittier, rough with more than just tears and emotion. Somehow all her changes are the strangest thing he’s encountered here yet. ]

Just a day. [ Careful, like he’s not sure she’ll let him, Joel pulls back a little, a confused frown deepening the lines in his face, aging him a little closer to what she's used to. He doesn’t let go, though. Both his hands settle on her upper arms. ] What the hell, Ellie?

When’d you get so tall?
notathreat: (5)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Ellie's still not as tall as him, won't ever be, but she's still got an inch or so on the last time he held her. It hard, realizing that. Remembering the last time he held her, and why.

This time, she's the one reluctant to pull away, and it's a fucking trip to meet his eyes, to see that exact color again, and the way his worry pulls at his expression. She'd forgotten the exact way his mouth curves when he's worried, that sheen in his eyes when he's uneasy, struggling to understand. Ellie puts one hand (the whole one) over his, trying to keep that contact, still so focused on the details of his face that she barely catches what he's saying.]


A day.

[The air seems to go out of her on that second word, a smile that isn't a smile aching in the corners of her eyes and mouth, and she takes a deep breath, lips parting as she tries to make sense of this. He doesn't just look younger. He is years younger.]

Had a few years to do it, old man.

[Ellie squeezes the back of his hand with hers, tracking upwards to look into his eyes again.]
enduresurvive: (ready)

[personal profile] enduresurvive 2020-08-24 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
Ellie hadn't been expecting Kate to know them, really, but she's pleasantly surprised by the answer. "Whoa, really?" She seems genuinely interested now, more animated in a way she hadn't been to start with, like the connection via music has melted away some of her careful reserve.

"How about...Heart Shaped Box? That one's pretty cool. I mean, you know. If you feel like it. No pressure." Wow, awkward. She knows she's awkward, but...it's whatever. Her socialisation muscles need some retraining.
guitarheroism: (11)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
Then you'll fit right in. Though I can't say that's a worthy title, mate.

I don't know if I'd call it juvenile. Archaic, mostly.


[ riddle-talk went out . . . 14th century? 15th? douxie loses track of the years. ]
guitarheroism: (05)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:06 am (UTC)(link)
I dunno. It could go hard metal and I wouldn't complain.

Aww, really? That is pretty awful.
notathreat: (123)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
i'm less a metalhead and more indie/folk. but I can appreciate great guitar
can't blame them too much when it's impossible to find a working amp
acoustic does not capture them properly
guitarheroism: (07)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, that's downright tragic, love. My heart just cringed.

I'm sure we can make ourselves a nice setup here. Get ourselves a proper band.
guitarheroism: (13)

( saloon )

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
[ hisirdoux briefly runs through the famous figures of history — never hurts — before giving up and carelessly shrugging. the gun doesn't draw much notice from him. ]

Should I?
notathreat: (3)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
eh. it is what it is

wouldn't count on that, sorry. my guitar playing days are over unless I relearn all that shit lefthanded.

Page 3 of 7