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heckinooc2024-11-02 10:28 am
heckinmods) wrote in heckinooc2024-11-02 10:28 am
TDM 005: Ch-ch-changes!
A, Garden Level - Autumn Celebrations!
[It may be November in the real world but when you're dead time is fake! So this week/month GARDENFEST is happening...........aka a bootleg mishmash of Oktoberfest and an Xmas Market. In general: PARTY TIME.
Drinks! Foods! Bad singing!! Drunkenly built gingerbread houses! You're thrown in a festive identity clash of imps and cherubs in the garden playing music that doesn't match or shoving drinks at you. Don't worry, if you don't want a mug of beer, it might just be gingerale! Anyway sorry you died but PARTY PARTY JOIN US JOIN US--]
B, Hell Level: ICE to meet you!
[Down at the HellRaiser hotel, the hellish amenities await your every need, but spooky season is over. Aside from the usual, er, allure of Hell, it also seems to be slowly freezing over. Ruh roh. It's not much now, but occasionally you may be hit by a teeny tiny icicle as you explore, awww. Other times it's a whole fucking STALACTITE crashes down on you. Better dodge or hope someone pushes you out the way!! Look out for slick sidewalks too!
Otherwise, hey have some fun in Hell!! Go to a club, get some drugs, go to a casino, win and get mugged!! Ever have a drink made out of literal MAGMA? Go on, try it!! Slaps hell's cobbled brimstone you can fit so much chaos down here!]
C, Heaven Level: Spice, spice, baby.
[Heaven-side, the cherubs are ready to welcome you and give you the VIP treatment!! Massages! Manipedis! Lavish outfits and attention! You can raise your hand and just get a fucking cat sat on your lap! Truly, this is bliss!!
Oh, but it's also cozy season in Heaven! So along with the best fits for the chillier weather, There are an assortment of beverages being offered by angels for you to sample (CW Mind Manipulation):
Apple Spiced Latte- Tasty and earthy! But you suddenly feel more subservient.
Cranberry Spiced Latte- A bit tart but it works. This might make you sassier than usual.
Stuffing Spiced Latte- There is no effect. Why would you drink this you monster.
For the TDM you can find small cherub-run kiosks with these drinks on any level you prefer! If that's not your cuppa joe, feel free to explore the beauty of Heaven per usual! The beach! Boardwalk! All the cafes!! Whatever heaven should have, you can likely find it.]
OOC NOTES:
-I KNOW THIS TDM IS BIT LACKING SO TBH FEEL FREE TO PULL PROMPTS FROM OLDER ONES TOO, DO WHATEVS
-This TDM is open to all! You do NOT need to join the comm to play in it!
-As a reminder, THIRD CHARACTER APPS are now street legal!
-Post questions for the mods here
-Remember, playing in the TDM does NOT guarantee your entry or app being accepted into the game proper later down the line!
-Apps open!! Be sure to read the rules linked there and check the current taken list!
-For current players: TDMs count as game canon AND threads may be used for AC if you wish!
-Remember regardless of your alignment, you are free to travel to whatever level you wish!
The Eye’s Fallen - The Arrival - Hellbound
A.
The last thing Jon remembers is the theater- his spotty memory, the fog. That damn puppet standing over him, mocking him as the Anglerfish onstage behind her-
“TIM!” He screams, sitting up. His heart is hammering in his chest. Did the plan… work? He looks at his hands to check that he still has them. Despite having just crawled around in a dusty old building for several hours, he feels- clean. And then his eyes adjust to his surroundings. A garden, all vivid colors and topiaries and friendly little flowers. And occupants. That one has wings. That one is a talking horse.
He must have passed out, or been knocked out. His friends still need him. Jon struggles to his feet. The grass is plush and green against his scuffed shoes. At least he still has clothes on in this dream. Though it has been a very long time since he has dreamt anything quite so bizarre, when he dreams at all.
Something feels… off. Obviously the surroundings are completely insane but he’s able to get a glimpse of his reflection in one of the thick black marble stripes of an unusual decorative wall behind him. He looks a bit closer.
It’s all eyes. He’s all eyes. Across his forearms, his face, his neck- numerous and sickly green. And around his head he beholds a similar sight. A halo of sorts of green, unblinking eyes. He prods one of the ones on his forearm. It’s not quite as round as he expects, but it blinks uncomfortably, even if he himself doesn’t feel pain in response.
And then it hits him all at once- the Knowledge. Jon is forced back to the ground on his knees by the impact of it.
Angels and demons, throwing a little party on neutral ground and merely tolerating one another for the duration of the festivities. Above him lies heaven- the most generic, iconic form of heaven imaginable. Fluffy clouds and adorable cherubs. Beneath him, hell unfolds in a similar manner.
He is dead.
Jon gasps, fumbling for- oh. There. Despite being dead, he guesses, he still feels very much alive, with all of the aches and pains that accompany it. His cane rests nearby on the grass and he reaches for it, holding it close for a moment before trying to get back to his feet again.
It’s a while before he can make himself move from his spot- but curiosity has taken him as much as fear. And he needs to know what’s going on. The Archivist- does that still even apply in death? He takes a step and then another and follows the smell of fresh tea.
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[ He trundles over to where Jon is getting to his feet and lifts a hand in what he hopes is a friendly greeting. ]
Uh, hey, you okay?
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“I don’t…” His voice sounds strange in his own ears. Echoey. “Am I dead?” He isn’t so much shaking the angel’s hand as he is just- holding it. His only life line.
Please god let this be a dream.
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[ Maurice gives Jon a strained smile. ]
Oh, uh, yes sir. I'm sorry. But it's not so bad! I can show you around if you like...there's a party goin' on right now.
[ With his non-shaking hand he lifts the frothy drink he's been given, which is making him oh so agreeable. Not that he isn't usually agreeable. Maurice is about as confrontational as a cardboard box. ]
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I’m sorry.
Jon blanches, even though he already knew the answer to his question.
Maybe the others survived then… he doesn’t see any of his friends.
Tim especially deserves to live on- who knows, maybe he’ll be the hero in the end of all this. What Jon doesn’t understand is why The Eye still seems to be influencing him even here. His head is beginning to hurt and he doesn’t feel much like partying, but what choice does he have?
“…I- sure. Thank you.”
He lets go of Maurice’s hand, having forgotten entirely to actually shake it.
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There are booths and tables and little stands set up where imps and cherubs sing and if Jon's not careful, a frothy drink will be shoved into his hands. Maurice keeps his eyes peeled for the elevator--one of the more important landmarks in the Garden.
"That over there's the elevator--it'll take you to whichever hotel you're stayin' in while you're here--oh yeah." Maurice turns to Jon. "I guess we're not teeeechnically supposed to be dead, and some of the people I've met did go back to being alive, but I'm not going back."
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He scans the area as they walk- in all directions. Frankly, it makes him a bit dizzy. The eyes covered by his clothing remain blessedly closed, but those everywhere else blink and jerk about in excitement. Stimuli! Sweet stimuli!
“Hotel…?” Jon shakes his head. So it was a mistake, then. He could be resuscitated at any moment. If Tim had succeeded with the C4, though…
Going back was going to hurt. Badly. If he even could…
“What do you mean by-“ And then that he feels it in his pocket- something small and rectangular. He removes it carefully and flips it over. Sure enough, it’s a hotel key made of a sleek, black metal. He’s never seen a keycard so nice. Jon starws at it dumbly for a moment and his brow pinches as it dawns on him what’s happening.
“I’m- going to Hell, aren’t I?” He shows the key to his acquaintance, searching his face for answers. But somehow, he feels… okay with this revelation. He’d wondered for months now, maybe years at this point, if he was still human enough to be redeemed somehow. But this is an answer, finally.
But then he looks around again. Angels and demons and unsettling little things with wings all mingling and- oh, something is trying to hand him a drink and he holds up his hands defensively with a polite “No thank you.” There’s no way he’s trusting any of this just yet…
“Everyone seems… alright with one another here,” he says uncertainly. “Is this… normal?”
As if anything would ever be normal again.
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"Oh, yeah! Mine used to look just like that--I used t'be in Hell and honestly it was pretty okay." He ducks as a pair of squabbling imps swoops overhead. "But now I'm upstairs."
Here, Maurice gives his wings a little flap. He's still just so proud of them. He'd wanted wings the moment he showed up and learned they were an option--one he thought was out of his grasp. That is, until Michael skewered him. BUT IT'S FINE NOW. He's not going to talk about that. Instead, he focuses on Jon. He tries to play it cool and causal. Being dead's no big deal!
"Everybody's moooostly cool with everybody else but...sometimes you get folks in Heaven who'll turn their nose up at a demon and give you bad service in a restaurant. And in Hell, if you're an angel all alone, you might get mugged but...I mean it could be worse."
He takes another sip of his drink.
"Nobody's mugged me yet though."
Probably because he has Greed's stink on him.
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Oh, lovely. So he’s going to the place where people get mugged, obviously. But if it’s so lawless down there, so full of sinners-
Sinners with stories to tell.
The pupils of those ghostly eyes above his head dilate slowly.
So he isn’t outside of the Eye’s influence, if the very idea of compelling others still makes whatever counts for a metaphysical stomach growl with want.
He’s distracted by Maurice’s wings. “I wasn’t aware you could… double die?” What a strange idea.
“How do the uh, ‘powers that be’ know that some people have died by mistake?” Was it everyone who died in an accident that ended up here? How exactly does this work?
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"I dunno...I've been here a good while now. I don't exactly know what happens...if somebody comes and gets you or if ya just...poof!"
He splays a hand and motions it to pantomime the possible poofing.
"When I died I was pretty dang sure it wasn't an accident."
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"Hi there!" She smiles. "This might be a little blunt, but... you look like you could use some help."
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All of Jon’s eyes focus on the young girl in front of him for just a moment before going back to minding their own business. Perhaps the novelty would set in once the discomfort faded.
It occurs to him then that he’s speaking to what appears to be a child. A dead child.
Best not to unpack that right now.
“I- maybe?” He says. “What… is this place?” It’s difficult to tell what’s real anymore, especially after not ten minutes ago he was being harassed by the flying baggy skins of his predecessor and perhaps the only person with any real answers. It was as disgusting as it was absurd. Perhaps this is a dream, or a vision.