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.

guitarheroism: (14)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ oh. ]

Sorry to hear that.
notathreat: (7)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 06:32 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh, and she can hear that, for all that it's silent.]

hey. still got ears. if you've got anything i'd love to hear it.
guitarheroism: (07)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:51 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks. It'd be nice to break out some power chords.
notathreat: (14)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 06:54 am (UTC)(link)
I've heard them on vinyl but never live, so if you find an amp, I'm serious
hopesong: (Dance With Me)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-24 06:57 am (UTC)(link)
"I do feel like it, as long as the audience demands it." Another idle strum, and she works it into a melody, where she plucks at the strings, working them into a rhythm, and from there, she opens her mouth, singing the lyrics with as much heart as she can muster.

Of course, there's her usual country twang to it. It's pretty clear that country music is her bread and butter, and what she's most comfortable singing.

Once the song is done, she flashes another smile.

"How was it, darlin'? Hope it was to your likin'."
guitarheroism: (05)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
I'm sure I can work some magic.

[ quite literally. ]
enduresurvive: (oh come on)

[personal profile] enduresurvive 2020-08-24 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
Ellie's half smile become the real thing halfway through the song, soft but sincere. She hums along very softly, not wanting to take anything away from Kate's performance. But music is inherent to her now, something inside her she doesn't want to give up, even with all the terrible shit that's happened in the past few months, even with being kidnapped and waking up in some freaky forest.

"That was good. Yeah, um, thanks," she answers. She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear - a fruitless gesture, since it falls loose again anyway. "I'm Ellie, by the way. What's your name?"
notathreat: (5)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
[OKAY BUT.]

ok I am only asking because a forest literally tried to eat me earlier today. but

do you. have a magic guitar.
hopesong: (For the People)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-24 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Kate." She says, giving a wink. "Kate Denson. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ellie." She offers her hand over her guitar for her to shake.

"Especially nice to have another lover of the fine arts. Do you play at all?" She's curious, from the way she was humming along. An artist has to have a keen ear, after all. If she doesn't play, perhaps sing?

"Or maybe Miss Ellie is a singer?"
guitarheroism: (06)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
That was quick.

Yeah, I do. It's my staff, but I customized it to work with my style.
notathreat: (15)

[personal profile] notathreat 2020-08-24 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
my whole life is a series of "this is fucking happening now, I guess????" so

this is one that does NOT suck

so yes. I would like to hear your magic guitar. which is also a wizard staff because of course it is.
guitarheroism: (13)

[personal profile] guitarheroism 2020-08-24 08:00 am (UTC)(link)
Fair enough. Life comes at us hard sometimes. The hits keep coming.

But I am absolutely down for an audience.
Edited (who forgot their html, it's me, i'm that asshole) 2020-08-24 08:46 (UTC)
gingerjedi: (suspicious)

Cal Kestis | Jedi Fallen Order

[personal profile] gingerjedi 2020-08-24 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
arrival

Cal isn't really given to panic. He was taught from a young age to overcome panic and fear, and he generally does that pretty well. That said, he's also not used to waking up encased in vines in a strange place. He fights the vines because anyone would, Jedi or not. He's still new at having all of his Force abilities restored, so he mostly fights with his regular strength. The Force helps because that's just how it works.

Once clear of the vines, though, Cal notices that something is really off. He can still feel the Force, sure, but something about this place is weird. How did he get here? He can't remember anything that would clue him in there. He might be used to forgetting things, but not like this.

He manages to calm himself enough to look around, take in the sight of the other cocoons, all of that. He reaches for his belt, but he doesn't need to do that to know his lightsaber is still there. So whoever did this, they didn't take his weapon away. That's...actually even stranger. Why leave a Jedi with their weapon? Anyone who kidnapped him, who was capable of doing something like this, they must have known who (or at least what) he was, right? But this doesn't feel like the Empire's tricks, so he's totally baffled by it.

A beep from below him interrupts his thoughts and he looks down, surprised.

"BD-1? Hey, buddy, how'd you even get here?"

The little droid in question beeps again from the forest floor, a series of frantic sounds.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. It's gonna be okay." Cal has no idea if it is or isn't, but that's not the point. He's just trying to reassure.

You might encounter him here with his droid. Alternately, you might catch him just after coming into town, looking lost just like everyone else who shows up here.


silhouette saloon

Cal only goes into the saloon for answers. Once in there, though, he feels completely shut down. He can't see anyone properly. He can't feel them properly, and that panics him a lot more than the vines had. Someone tells him this place keeps secrets.

"No, I think I'm good," he says, shoving a drink away, trying to find the thread of the Force to ground him. It's far away and strange, but he manages to find it and stumble his way back out of the saloon, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. He tries to shove down his panic again. Well, that was a mistake, wasn't it? He still feels off balance.

Someone approaches, either entering or exiting the saloon. He can't help the compulsion, and it just...comes out, unbidden.

"I...I had a vision," he says, still shaky. "I saw myself becoming something I'm afraid of." He's not supposed to even be afraid. He's a Jedi. Maybe he's the last Jedi alive. He's not really sure; Cere was out there, so maybe there are others. He hopes there are. There are others with potential, after all. But he's not a normal Jedi no matter how you shake it down. Nothing is normal anymore.

He manages to clear his head enough to refocus on whoever just heard that.

"Wow, I'm sorry. I don't know what that was about." But what's said is said.


digital veil; un:kestis

I guess roses, because those sound pretty safe in comparison, don't you think?


[ got another idea? cool, let's do that! hit me with a wildcard or PM me if you want to talk something out first! ]
Edited 2020-08-24 08:44 (UTC)
gingerjedi: (do I have to)

pity

[personal profile] gingerjedi 2020-08-24 08:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ Cal hasn't yet been accosted by the begging people yet, which is really all the better for him. A couple have started to come towards him. He's wary of them, because he's wary of everything in this place. He's survived as long as he has by not trusting, and as far as he can tell, nothing is trustworthy in this place. Still, he's willing to give them a chance...

But then Rufus hooks an arm through his and pulls him away before they can say anything scathing or harmful to him.
]

H-hey, do you mind?

[ But he stumbles into step beside Rufus for a few feet anyway. ]

You could warn a guy.

[ He's aware there's some kind of irony here, with him being a Jedi and still being caught off guard. Sometimes things are just like that. This is a strange place, after all. ]
snakehead: (Profile)

Arrival

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-24 12:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[just inside the town having stopped to take it all in, Narek feels something bump against his leg that gets his attention, looking down to see the little droid.]

Well hello there little one, where did you come from?

[He has such complicated feelings about machines like this thanks to the last few days. Seeing Cal, he points down to the droid with his still cuffed hands.]

Is this yours?
snakehead: (injured)

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-24 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[He thinks very hard on that idea, staring into his drink while he does before replying,] While I can only speak for myself, I think you have to pick one or the other.
gingerjedi: (reassure)

[personal profile] gingerjedi 2020-08-24 03:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ BD-1 peers back up at Narek and beeps, hopping back out of the way a little. Perhaps it's to the little droid's advantage that he isn't at all humanoid. ]

Yeah. BD, careful, okay?

[ It's not quite a scold; he's much too fond of the little guy for that. But he looks back at Narek, taking in the Vulcan's appearance. ]

Sorry about that. I think we're both kinda disoriented. Did you, um, come out of these tree things too?

[ He notices the cuffs, sure, but he'll get to that in a minute. ]
snakehead: ((Maybe) Listening)

[personal profile] snakehead 2020-08-24 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[indeed,the clearly mechanical look of BD makes it a little easier to find agreeable. It's even ... cute, after a fashion.

He clears his throat at Cal's question and gives a nod, nonchalant.]


Indeed I did, don't worry on it.

I don't suppose this planet looks familiar to you does it?
gingerjedi: (well...)

[personal profile] gingerjedi 2020-08-24 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Cal nods. So...whatever this is, it's likely not about him being a Jedi. He's not sure who or what Narek is, but he's definitely not a Jedi. He'd feel different if he was. He's also not a type of being that Cal has encountered before. Not human, but...not familiar. That's not immediately alarming, since there are countless species throughout his own galaxy. There's no way to know all of them.

He glances around for a moment.
]

No. This planet is totally new to me. I'm not even sure how they got us here and put us in those things in the first place. How about you, BD?

[ The droid shakes its head and offers a negative beep. ]

Yeah, that would be too easy if it was in your database somewhere, huh?

[ He looks back at Narek again. ]

I'm Cal Kestis. Droid friend there is BD-1.

Trilla Suduri | Jedi: Fallen Order

[personal profile] suduri 2020-08-24 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
▸ ARRIVAL

This adventure starts on awful footing. Can’t be helped really, when the Second Sister wakes to find herself encased in vines; there’s a tremor of sudden fear as the memories burst violently through her mind, unwanted and unbidden. The sickening realization that she can’t escape.

Trapped in that place, bolted to the chair, the smell of ozone and panic as the torture chair sparks to life.

Submit, traitor.

Her throat tightens. Fear gives way to anger and there is no holding back. Reaching for the lightsaber at her belt, a surge of violent red energy bursts through the vines, peeling them back so that she can break free of this prison. Stepping out into the clearing, she doesn’t immediately put her weapon away.

For a moment, this place almost reminds Trilla of Kashyyyk. Chasing rebellious Jedi, she didn’t have the luxury of staying there long but — no, this place is all wrong. Too different. Feeling through the Force, she can sense something entirely alien to her. Something foreign and sickly.

Looking around, she notes the other pods and likely others trapped within them. For a moment, a single, dangerous moment, she has the urge to open them and free the prisoners inside. It’s an awful, traitorous thought for an Inquisitor; an urge she can barely acknowledge let alone attempt to act upon.

The younglings...what about the younglings?

She makes a noise of disgust that echoes in her helmet. Putting her lightsaber away, the Second Sister moves to find an exit out of these woods.

▸SPITSHINE YOUR BLACK CLOUDS

Of course she doesn’t celebrate along with the villagers. How coarse and unrefined. The sickly feeling of dread hasn’t left her, besides. It’s not the most threatened she’s felt; after the torture, the indoctrination, after Lord Vader, there’s hardly anything that can move her to panic.

But she remains careful and guarded even so, leaning against the front of a tavern and watching the revelers from a distance. Arms crossed, she allows the shadows of the eaves to hide her disdain. Now that she’s spent enough time here, enough to realize this place is far beyond the reaches of the Empire, she’s allowing herself the luxury of removing her helmet. Jacket undone, boots muddied, she could almost be taken for just another traveler.

If not for the Dark Side lingering around her shoulders in place of that familiar black cape. Anger, disgust; such feelings are obvious to those who are sensitive toward them.

“Do you suppose something will come out of there?”

She asks, not expecting someone to answer her. The villagers continue to toss things into that black pit, and she doesn’t quite feel at ease enough to simply turn away from it. Not yet.

▸PITY’S GOT AN UGLY PRICE TAG

Anger is a reliable emotion. It makes her stronger, and that amount of strength is needed to fend off against whatever dangers this place feels compelled to throw at her. Or less than that, simple annoyances like the beggars blocking her way.

She feels them all through the Force. It’s a sickening assault on her senses, something that spills over and threatens to pull her in. Like those vines. This place is nothing but a trap; another test, another torture, and an Inquisitor has only one response to something like this.

“Hands off if you want to keep them,” she threatens from inside her black helmet. Someone reaches for her and she reels back her arm. The assailant is met with an aggressive kick to his chest, her boot unforgiving against his sternum as she uses her bodily strength to send him backward. To teach him a lesson, teach them all not to touch her.

She reaches for the Force, possibly in an attempt to push away this mob. That is, if someone doesn't step in to try and stop her.

▸DIGITAL VEIL

Bruises only serve to make us stronger.
hopesong: (Up the Ante)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-25 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
She's got a keen eye, a necessary to escape potential murder, though it isn't always helpful. Here, however, it's put to use in scanning crowds that form, and in it, she sees someone peculiar. Though it seems like there's a bunch of peculiar people in this place, so she takes it in stride, offering a wink for his compliment.

"Thanks, sugar. You a fan of Mrs. Parton? Or just a fan of the music?" She asks, leaning forward and over her guitar in a way she hopes is friendly.
hopesong: (Mettle of Man)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-25 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
"I did. It's my pride an' joy. I've had the thing for years. It's seen me through some tough times, you could say." She replies with a bob of her head and a laugh.

"I take requests, if there's a song you wanna hear and I know it. I figure it's the least I can do, with everyone so far from home in this place." And she knows how important home can be to people, so even being able to give them a taste of that... Well, it feels like the right thing to do.
hopesong: (Lithe)

[personal profile] hopesong 2020-08-25 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, if you like it, I'll have to play more." She says, and strums the guitar again idly. "Lets see, here's a song I wrote. I hope you like it just as much as the others."

The strumming picks up, more lively than what she'd previously been playing. It's a song she wrote a few years ago, back before she'd played for money and killed her muse.

"Rise and shine, work hard, carve out your name,
Take aim, pull the trigger, hit the bulls eye for fame,
Know the value of faith, an' family, and don't you complain,
Open wide, your windows of opportunity"
enduresurvive: (talk)

[personal profile] enduresurvive 2020-08-25 07:46 am (UTC)(link)
There's a beat of hesitation before Ellie reaches out and accepts the handshake. It's a weird thing. Most people where she lives now don't shake hands. People outside Jackson mostly just want to shoot at you or some other fucked up thing. This seems like a kind of quaint custom. But she likes Kate already, so what the hell.

Her cheeks colour just slightly.

"I can play a little, but I'm not as good as you. I can sing a little too. Same deal. I like doing it. I've been sort of dabbling with writing my own stuff but I haven't put it down to chords or anything yet. Just words."
gingerjedi: (bite back feeling)

arrival

[personal profile] gingerjedi 2020-08-25 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
Cal feels her before he sees her, and it makes something drop in his stomach. He remembers the last time he'd seen Trilla, the terrible crushing feeling of Darth Vader's Force signature before he cut Trilla's off entirely. Cal had seen and felt so much death in his life, of course, but that's not what sticks with him. It was the cold brutality of it. The Empire expected loyalty and offered none in return. He knew that, but to see it, experience it...that was something else.

He had thought, in a naive moment, that he could really help her, save her. Trilla wasn't all bad. He knew what she'd been through. He'd seen it, felt it, lived it in some strange way that his double-edged sword of an ability let him.

He has too many emotions when he feels that Force signature here again, strong and unbroken. It can't be her. This place is full of tricks and deception, something strange and off on this planet. He follows that signature anyway until he finds her at the edge of the forest. He'd come from that same forest mere hours ago.

He doesn't draw his lightsaber, but he can in an instant if he has to. He doesn't know what to expect, whether Trilla is real or an illusion. Actually, either way, she might come at him. He has to trust the Force to tell him the truth of it, as always.

He figures she probably feels him before she sees him, too. She's strong, after all.

"Trilla," he says when he sees her. It's not a greeting, not really. It's more of a statement of disbelief, seeing her there in her helmet. He'd have preferred to see her face. Stars, this can't be happening. It can't be happening, but it is. BD-1 hops to the ground at Cal's feet, almost as if to defend the young Jedi if it comes to it. No one could ever say the little droid isn't brave.

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