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countryclub2022-09-25 09:57 pm
reddosmod) wrote in countryclub2022-09-25 09:57 pm
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SEPTEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!
SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM
STANDARD ARRIVAL
A FADED MEMORY
FRIEND OR FOE
CODING
Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Bread Cornucopia filled with fruits and veggies]
[Image Two: Creepy glass eye embedded in sand]
Prompt Two
[Image One: A Lone Lighthouse by night]
[Image Two: Ghost Ship in dilapidated condition]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Wasps, Wasp Nest made from human Mask screaming terror, swirling eddies in wasp Nest]
[Image Two: Horribly mutilated Cenobite in Latex gear with exposed teeth]
All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.
Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.
Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.
If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!
Prompt One
[Image One: Bread Cornucopia filled with fruits and veggies]
[Image Two: Creepy glass eye embedded in sand]
Prompt Two
[Image One: A Lone Lighthouse by night]
[Image Two: Ghost Ship in dilapidated condition]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Wasps, Wasp Nest made from human Mask screaming terror, swirling eddies in wasp Nest]
[Image Two: Horribly mutilated Cenobite in Latex gear with exposed teeth]
WHEN: First Week of September
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: Creepy Prosthetics buried in the sand
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: Creepy Prosthetics buried in the sand
On some level, you are one of the fortunate ones. The storms of August are now a distant memory. It is the waning of the Blood Moon and the tempestuous state of the Beast Moon this year is fading finally while the harvest is being collected. Sleepers arriving find no particular difficulty in actually reaching the shores for the most part, and transformations back into their natural state of being are relatively easy.
They are met by happy Trenchies and fellow Sleepers with robes of white and their bags as normal, and motioned towards the waiting tents set up along the
What is strange, however, is that when Sleepers arrive, they may find their eyes drawn to something disturbing amongst the sand. Water washes with the waves and tide, and reveals a body part! They are always prosthetics of some variety, and many are glass eyes that eerily stare at the person. They can be retrieved with some ease, though they're in bad need of cleaning. Perhaps they belong to someone in town? If not, however, asking around will get a suggestion to bring those to Koz's Orphange in Crenshaw. They have a Lost and Found there, and it is the season of finding what and who is lost. If they do, they might catch a glimpse of Koz floating mournfully through the area, and one of the children will gratefully take the item, saying that they will add it to the rest of the Lost and Found, before coming back with a photo in hand. "Here, I found this, and I think it might be yours?" The photo is, indeed, of the giver and someone from their past. Perhaps it is an actual photo taken, or one they cannot remember having been taken. Regardless, it is offered to them in a cheap wooden frame. How it got there, the orphan does not know. It was probably there when they arrived.
SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
The Boardwalk is quite the spectacle this time of year, and those who were here the prior year will remember many of the decorations and festivities. Pumpkins have been stacked on spikes lining the Boardwalk with grotesquely realistic carvings of faces decorated on them. Massive white linen has been hung in the air to look like ghosts floating back and forth against the ocean wind.
Delicious smells waft from the Boardwalk as fresh donuts, candied apples, and hot apple cider are sold at every other booth, along with complementary cornucopias given to each new Sleeper made out of bread that has fruits of all varieties but always seems to have a small jar of the favorite fruit, seed, vegetable (or even meat) of the person receiving it. If asked where it is from, the Sleepers shrug and say "The Orphans took up a collection to give a welcoming gift to new arrivals." If what is in the jar is eaten by the person given it, it will help to ease their mind and give them a calm that can last up to a week as they acclimate.
Preparations are in order for this year's Black Parade. An annual celebration, it is promoted among the excited locals as something that people can participate in. Face Painting booths and costumes are available to those who wish them, with the statement by the Trenchies, "We do it to disguise ourselves from roaming spirits and hungry beasts."
What is strange, however, is that when Sleepers arrive, they may find their eyes drawn to something disturbing amongst the sand. Water washes with the waves and tide, and reveals a body part! They are always prosthetics of some variety, and many are glass eyes that eerily stare at the person. They can be retrieved with some ease, though they're in bad need of cleaning. Perhaps they belong to someone in town? If not, however, asking around will get a suggestion to bring those to Koz's Orphange in Crenshaw. They have a Lost and Found there, and it is the season of finding what and who is lost. If they do, they might catch a glimpse of Koz floating mournfully through the area, and one of the children will gratefully take the item, saying that they will add it to the rest of the Lost and Found, before coming back with a photo in hand. "Here, I found this, and I think it might be yours?" The photo is, indeed, of the giver and someone from their past. Perhaps it is an actual photo taken, or one they cannot remember having been taken. Regardless, it is offered to them in a cheap wooden frame. How it got there, the orphan does not know. It was probably there when they arrived.
The Boardwalk is quite the spectacle this time of year, and those who were here the prior year will remember many of the decorations and festivities. Pumpkins have been stacked on spikes lining the Boardwalk with grotesquely realistic carvings of faces decorated on them. Massive white linen has been hung in the air to look like ghosts floating back and forth against the ocean wind.
Delicious smells waft from the Boardwalk as fresh donuts, candied apples, and hot apple cider are sold at every other booth, along with complementary cornucopias given to each new Sleeper made out of bread that has fruits of all varieties but always seems to have a small jar of the favorite fruit, seed, vegetable (or even meat) of the person receiving it. If asked where it is from, the Sleepers shrug and say "The Orphans took up a collection to give a welcoming gift to new arrivals." If what is in the jar is eaten by the person given it, it will help to ease their mind and give them a calm that can last up to a week as they acclimate.
Preparations are in order for this year's Black Parade. An annual celebration, it is promoted among the excited locals as something that people can participate in. Face Painting booths and costumes are available to those who wish them, with the statement by the Trenchies, "We do it to disguise ourselves from roaming spirits and hungry beasts."
WHEN: Mid October
WHERE: In Swimming distance (Barely) of the Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Ghostly Ship & Lighthouse, Threat of Corruption, Remains of Ghastly Murder and Dismembered Corpse
WHERE: In Swimming distance (Barely) of the Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Ghostly Ship & Lighthouse, Threat of Corruption, Remains of Ghastly Murder and Dismembered Corpse
It is by accident that your eyes chance to look towards the Farther Shores. There, you happen to see a lighthouse, but you know for certain that it cannot be the lighthouse that is normally there and manned by the fishermen. You can't usually see that from this angle. The moment that you see it, a feeling of mounting dread falls upon you, and you realize that there is no light in the lighthouse. Though the compulsion to investigate can be resisted, there is an almost overwhelming urge to go, to investigate, to re-ignite the flame before it is too late!
The question is getting out there. The fishermen, when the lighthouse is mentioned, will make warding gestures and look terrified. All will resolutely refuse to sail out, muttering incomprehensible curses and lashing their boats securely to the shore. There will be no fishing tonight. The lighthouse, from the docks and shores, is out in the water on a rocky outcrop that nobody remembers being there, though any Trenchy asked will pale at the mention. The only way to get out there is to swim. It is a hard, dangerous swim, but the tide is coming in, rather than going out, so the riptide is not pulling down. It can be done, or a raft can be hastily made. When clambering up the stone steps to the lone lighthouse, it is apparent its door is ajar. And within? Horror awaits.
The insides of the tower are caked in viscuous, green blood. The Lighthouse itself is barely standing. It looks as if a thunderous, colossal fist has battered it repeatedly, the building nearly collapsing at every step. It does not actually break apart, but those who ascend the steps find themselves fighting not to slip on old, caked and thick blood that smells of roses. The contact with the blood isn't doing anything good to the person's sanity and hallucinations of the screams of the dying can be heard, along with shrieks of "What is it?" at the top of someone's voice. An increase in corruption is possible here, though not required. The more one contacts the blood, the greater the risk is. In the top of the lighthouse, dismembered, skeletal remains lay in gobs of what may once have been flesh. One of them holds desperately a torch in their hand, and there is a lighter present. One look out into the night will see a great vessel approaching, broken, its sails tattered and ruined. there is little time, and hopefully the lighter works!
The moment the torch lights the lamp in the lighthouse, the ship veers away from a collision course that would have destroyed the lighthouse and likely the flimsy rock outcropping on which it stood. Shades of dead sailors stare in horror at those who man the lighthouse today, the ship sailing away into the night. All are pointing beyond, and if you look over your shoulder, you can barely see a collosal figure in shadow walking into the town beyond, seemingly confused and wailing. Nothing further happens, and when the people in the lighthouse reach shore again, they will find upon turning back that it is gone, as is the outcropping, though a close inspection does see the remains of a shallow of stone there where the island once stood.
Note: The Ghost ship cannot be interacted with. If someone has the ability to reach it, they will pass through it only to realize it is nothing more than a memory in the land. Fragments of rotted wood and broken masonry can be found in the water below, covered in countless barnacles. Nothing within them shows any proof of what once transpired. There is a risk of corruption from blood exposure, though this is very much up to the players if they wish to incorporate it.
No Trenchy will willingly speak of what transpired, though a careful investigation at the Pale Sanctuary may find a tome among the sacred texts associated with Cloverfield. Reading from it, one might find a forgotten marking that the first sighting of Cloverfield, long ago, saw the collapse of the original lighthouse. No Disciple recalls the incident, and none will speak of it.
The question is getting out there. The fishermen, when the lighthouse is mentioned, will make warding gestures and look terrified. All will resolutely refuse to sail out, muttering incomprehensible curses and lashing their boats securely to the shore. There will be no fishing tonight. The lighthouse, from the docks and shores, is out in the water on a rocky outcrop that nobody remembers being there, though any Trenchy asked will pale at the mention. The only way to get out there is to swim. It is a hard, dangerous swim, but the tide is coming in, rather than going out, so the riptide is not pulling down. It can be done, or a raft can be hastily made. When clambering up the stone steps to the lone lighthouse, it is apparent its door is ajar. And within? Horror awaits.
The insides of the tower are caked in viscuous, green blood. The Lighthouse itself is barely standing. It looks as if a thunderous, colossal fist has battered it repeatedly, the building nearly collapsing at every step. It does not actually break apart, but those who ascend the steps find themselves fighting not to slip on old, caked and thick blood that smells of roses. The contact with the blood isn't doing anything good to the person's sanity and hallucinations of the screams of the dying can be heard, along with shrieks of "What is it?" at the top of someone's voice. An increase in corruption is possible here, though not required. The more one contacts the blood, the greater the risk is. In the top of the lighthouse, dismembered, skeletal remains lay in gobs of what may once have been flesh. One of them holds desperately a torch in their hand, and there is a lighter present. One look out into the night will see a great vessel approaching, broken, its sails tattered and ruined. there is little time, and hopefully the lighter works!
The moment the torch lights the lamp in the lighthouse, the ship veers away from a collision course that would have destroyed the lighthouse and likely the flimsy rock outcropping on which it stood. Shades of dead sailors stare in horror at those who man the lighthouse today, the ship sailing away into the night. All are pointing beyond, and if you look over your shoulder, you can barely see a collosal figure in shadow walking into the town beyond, seemingly confused and wailing. Nothing further happens, and when the people in the lighthouse reach shore again, they will find upon turning back that it is gone, as is the outcropping, though a close inspection does see the remains of a shallow of stone there where the island once stood.
Note: The Ghost ship cannot be interacted with. If someone has the ability to reach it, they will pass through it only to realize it is nothing more than a memory in the land. Fragments of rotted wood and broken masonry can be found in the water below, covered in countless barnacles. Nothing within them shows any proof of what once transpired. There is a risk of corruption from blood exposure, though this is very much up to the players if they wish to incorporate it.
No Trenchy will willingly speak of what transpired, though a careful investigation at the Pale Sanctuary may find a tome among the sacred texts associated with Cloverfield. Reading from it, one might find a forgotten marking that the first sighting of Cloverfield, long ago, saw the collapse of the original lighthouse. No Disciple recalls the incident, and none will speak of it.
WHEN: Anytime in October
WHERE: At the frindges of the main districts
CONTENT WARNINGS: demonic bugs, Bug Horror, Grotesque death, Self mutilation, Bug Infestation
WHERE: At the frindges of the main districts
CONTENT WARNINGS: demonic bugs, Bug Horror, Grotesque death, Self mutilation, Bug Infestation
The first thing that alerts you to the danger is the screams. They are agonizing, gut-wrenching and full of naked horror. When traveling near the edge of any of the districts, particularly the Crenshaw district, it is possible at times to witness a truly horrifying sight. The screams, if investigated, come upon the grisly attack of a horde of not exactly wasps but closer to demonic insects swarming over a person. They shriek, their whole form shrouded by the terrible creatures as they're being stun and the things seem to be extruding some sort of substance to cocoon them while still alive to one of the trees. There is no cry for help, as the person is clearly unaware of who is there, but do you reach out to save them?
If you do not, the scene is horrific and grisly beyond reckoning. The wasps trap the hapless victim against a tree, grafting the extruded paper all over their screaming visage to form a new wasp nest before they ultimately begin crawling inside of them, devouring them from the inside out and implanting their eggs in the new 'home' created for them. It is at this time that the palpable danger may dawn upon you. The infernal bugs have not yet seen you, but they seem to be aware that there is other life around. Do you take this moment to try and beat a hasty retreat, or do you fight it out with the bugs? They can be destroyed, but only by means of abilities and powers that destroy multiples at once, such as great gouts of flame. Hopefully you have a coldblood present! Fleeing them is easier, but can you leave this person to their fate? Still, if instead you observe and take no action, eventually the bugs seem to notice you, and though they swarm near, as long as they are not attacked, they seem to do nothing.
Strange.
If, however, you try to save the victim, a very different scene plays out. The same rules apply to fight the swarm, and if you stop them short of killing their victim, you will see just who it is that you have saved. There, mutilated through self scarification and brutally altered in horrible ways that seem almost fetishistic, is one of the blood crazed zealots. Despite being weakened and badly injured, they lash out at you, their defender. The power that they wield with their blood is incredible, and they demonstrate an ability to wield it that is well documented. The only note is that no Cold-blooded Zealots are present, and so their powers are not represented this time. However, they are drained and though they pose a threat to your life, they can be killed here with a bit of care, can be resisted with great difficulty and certainly be escaped. Either way, there is no true reward for having killed them other than knowing that you have done so. Why are they here? Alone?
It is almost as if they were an advance scout, and the wasps were someone's defense against them, someone's early warning.
If you do not, the scene is horrific and grisly beyond reckoning. The wasps trap the hapless victim against a tree, grafting the extruded paper all over their screaming visage to form a new wasp nest before they ultimately begin crawling inside of them, devouring them from the inside out and implanting their eggs in the new 'home' created for them. It is at this time that the palpable danger may dawn upon you. The infernal bugs have not yet seen you, but they seem to be aware that there is other life around. Do you take this moment to try and beat a hasty retreat, or do you fight it out with the bugs? They can be destroyed, but only by means of abilities and powers that destroy multiples at once, such as great gouts of flame. Hopefully you have a coldblood present! Fleeing them is easier, but can you leave this person to their fate? Still, if instead you observe and take no action, eventually the bugs seem to notice you, and though they swarm near, as long as they are not attacked, they seem to do nothing.
Strange.
If, however, you try to save the victim, a very different scene plays out. The same rules apply to fight the swarm, and if you stop them short of killing their victim, you will see just who it is that you have saved. There, mutilated through self scarification and brutally altered in horrible ways that seem almost fetishistic, is one of the blood crazed zealots. Despite being weakened and badly injured, they lash out at you, their defender. The power that they wield with their blood is incredible, and they demonstrate an ability to wield it that is well documented. The only note is that no Cold-blooded Zealots are present, and so their powers are not represented this time. However, they are drained and though they pose a threat to your life, they can be killed here with a bit of care, can be resisted with great difficulty and certainly be escaped. Either way, there is no true reward for having killed them other than knowing that you have done so. Why are they here? Alone?
It is almost as if they were an advance scout, and the wasps were someone's defense against them, someone's early warning.
no subject
I mean, it's not really the best thing, but she's also not really my sister. Lot of grey areas around here, you know? We make our families where we can find them, and we live our lives the best we can. Very "we're all in this together" vibes.
[she has a bit of a singsong lilt to her voice when she says that line, but doesn't bother explaining it.]
Kind of the same where you come from, or no?
no subject
[ listen. he's read fic. he understands. ]
...not really. [ it's a little blunt, even though he's not trying to be. ] I mean, Kansas just kind of sucks in general? And you're supposed to honor your father and mother, and your Father in heaven, and all of that. So you don't really get a chance to find family that fits you better, and if you do it's probably against God's will, so you're just kind of screwed either way.
[ it's delivered very matter of factly, for something that has some subversive and sacrilegious things embedded within it. ]
I guess camp was... Kind of like that? But you're not even supposed to group up with more than one person, there. That's not how God's plan works, even though they assign three to a group so you don't have any choice but to leave someone out. So you just... join up with a group, and you try to pretend to be friends, and you just choose someone to be a little less loved than the others. That's how things work back home.
[ it would have been him. it would so obviously have been him, if he'd stayed. ]
no subject
[yes, that's kind of the point. she sighs deeply and puts both hands on the boardwalk, leaning back so she can look up at the sky just a little.]
So it's like that, huh? Well, let me tell you, kid. Family that raised me, they were real big into Catholicism too. They fuckin' love the big man upstairs. Never sent me away to bible camp or anything, just took me and my sister to church every Sunday and made damn sure we said our prayers before we went to bed. But I never really knew how much they loved Him until I tried telling them about my girlfriend. [she picks up her far hand and examines her nails, curling her fingers inward.] Turns out it's "more than they loved me".
[she turns her head so she can catch his eye.]
God's plan can suck my girlfriend's cock. If your love isn't big enough for everybody then what kind of god are you.
cw: self-directed transmisogyny lmaooooo
-but there's still an odd smile that crosses her face as anna talks about her family, the tiniest crackle of static interference from the radio in venus's pack. he's really found someone who Gets It, huh. he stifles a giggle at the cocksucking comment - it's a funny metaphor, he gets it, he knows girls don't have dicks already - trying desperately to at least appear somewhat dignified. ]
...yeah. A pretty crappy one, huh? [ there's a tone to his voice, somewhere between amusement and wistfulness. bittersweet. nostalgic. ] You would have liked Neptune. You talk like her.
[ he looks down at the arm for a moment. then he finally stops his work to focus entirely on anna. ]
You don't have to worry about offending me or anything. [ he's trying to be helpful. really, he is. ] I, uh... the Bible camp I went to wasn't for good kids. J- One girl I know got sent in for liking girls. Another girl got called slutty all the time, just because she was prettier than them and didn't pretend otherwise.
[ he laughs, awkwardly but genuinely, rubbing at the back of his neck. ]
And, um - I don't really know what your girlfriend's like, but I'm sure she's really cool. Like you.
no subject
[it's easier to talk about k than the rest of it. but there is something that grabs anna's attention in the middle of it, and she just. takes a second.]
What makes them bad kids? Having an ego ain't a crime, and being gay ain't a sin. [and she has to wonder, first quietly and then far less quietly,] And what got you caged up with them? 'Cause you seem like a good enough kid from where I'm sitting.
[a beat.] But, well, you already know my feelings on all that religion shit, so maybe it's no surprise that I'm saying all this other stuff, too.
no subject
But, I mean... [ he hesitates, like he doesn't want to say it. but she did ask, so... hopefully she won't be mad? ] ...it kind of is, though? A sin. I mean. Being, um... that is, a girl that likes girls, or "tempting men's gazes," or, um. Just not being grateful for what the chances in life God's given you. [ that's one he's heard a lot. ] It's all sin.
[ he blinks - and then his eyes go wide, and he waves one hand in a panic ]
-ah, please, don't get me wrong! It's not like any of it's bad? Of course it's not bad. J- that girl, that one that got sent for liking girls, she was one of the best people in camp. She was so nice, and so cool, and so effortlessly good at just. Everything? And the other girl, the one the first girl liked - I mean, I guess they liked each other, it was kind of obvious? But as much as she talked about being bad, and tried to bully us, and she definitely slapped me that one time... She was so much nicer than any of the counselors. She was mean because she was so nice. Does that make any sense?
[ he trails off, crossing his arms and looking off to the side as he collects his thoughts. ]
...I was probably the worst of our three. [ he says it with a surprising neutrality. like he's just doing a quick evaluation. ] I wasn't really any good with people, or sports, or any of that stuff. I let people lie to me, and I don't stand up when we're dwelling in sin or whatever the bonfire captain wants to call it. The devil would have been me, for sure.
no subject
With all due respect, kid? 'Cause you told me not to worry about offending you, and all? [another beat.] That's a load of horseshit. You're sitting here talking about how these two girls were so nice to you even though they were supposed to be full of sin or whatever, and what, you're somehow full of sin yourself 'cause you made some friends?
[if she had a drink, or if she were smoking right now, this is where she would take a break to indulge in her vices. she doesn't have any of those, but her body still breathes out like she does.]
Nah. If shit like that turns people into the devil [and she is choosing to read it as a very pointed metaphor] then every single one of us turned into the devil years ago. You, me, those two. Probably those counselors, if they're good enough at lying to themselves. And if everyone's the devil, then no one is. You follow me?
no subject
well. he doesn't really know what it makes him feel. all he knows is that he feels irritated, and frustrated, and like he's being condescended to. does she think he doesn't understand? does she think he's drunk the kool-aid, just like everyone else?
there's a sudden spike of static, loud enough to be audible from venus's pack. if he notices, he doesn't say anything. ]
I mean. With all due respect, I think maybe someone who doesn't get religion isn't the best person to be teaching theology?
[ it's delivered carefully, neutrally - which almost makes it less clear just how unexpectedly bitchy of a move that was. ]
Look. Did you ever run into any real a-holes when you were in high school? You had to have, right? The kinds of people who take your lunch money, and flush your notebooks, and play keep away? Because those... jerks, are some of god's favorite people. They're teaching you a lesson about life, and what god wants from you, or something like that. You think they've ever had to worry about the devil? They're living the exact lives God wants from them.
[ the static goes uninterrupted. venus's eyes seem almost alight - bright with light, bright like the midwestern sun. a cloudless sky of cyan with rays of heat passing through. ]
I feel like I haven't been clear here. Maybe I was miswording it? Or maybe I just wasn't saying it right. I do that a lot. [ even the self-effacing seems less apologetic and more sharp, like this. it's a knife, plain and simple - and just because it's not pointing directly at anna doesn't mean it's not making itself known. ] I don't care whether we're sinners or not. Maybe I should. I probably should. But I don't, because it's a stupid unfair system to begin with. Some of the most awful people on the planet are God's little favorites, and because they're so effortlessly upright and good it doesn't matter how hard you try, or how much you work to live right, they will always, always be the ones who go to Heaven while the people who actually deserve something suffer.
[ for a single, awesome moment - full of awe, full of terror - it seems like venus's eyes might crack open at the edges. like he could just be a statue, holding back some great and terrifying secret within. the welcome sack with his radio shifts, whines; a light radiates through the fabric.
and then venus sighs, irritated and frustrated, and shakes his head, and the illusion dies. ]
Sorry. For being rude, and for the noise. I just... forgot to turn my radio off, is all.
[ he kneels down, fiddling with the bag and bringing out... a radio, apparently. it doesn't look like any radio from earth, though. it's glowing slightly - right up until he detaches a wire, and flips it over a different loop, and it just dies away. ]
no subject
[she hears the static. she ignores it the first time, but the second time, when it gets both their attention, she can't. she looks down and watches him fiddle with it, and it's the first hint that anna's gotten that her companion might be from one of those worlds that matches hers only, like, 99% of the way. but she'll take 99%. it's good enough for dove soap.]
Tell me about the radio. I didn't think you'd be able to pick anything up out here, over the ocean and an entire world away from any kind of radio tower.
[she leaves the rest of that where it is. she doesn't want to confront someone she agrees with. but she'd looked uncomfortable the entire time, and it should be obvious that this is a deflection. she knows it's obvious; she's practically counting on it.]
What's it picking up, anyway?
no subject
[ and if that doesn't just create more questions. but he's allowing the deflection, and grabbing on himself to it, so maybe that's for the best. ]
It's probably not picking up anything. It's just interference, you know? Background radiation, or some weird wave from the sun that got stuck near some foil or something. [ a beat. he hesitates - is it even worth bringing up to her at this point? - then sighs. doesn't matter. it'll come up eventually. ] ...it's not God, if that's what you're wondering. I avoid 109.8 unless I really have to. Plus I already tried praying when I got here, and He didn't say a word.
[ which means either it's some weird background radiation, or it's the devil. and he already knows which he's decided it must be. because if the light of god isn't here in this place, how can the shadow of man be cast? ]
no subject
We don't have these where I'm from. I think you and are from the same place most of the way, but we definitely don't have radios that can talk to god, or... the Scouts, or whatever. I mean, we have preachers and stuff, but that's as close as it gets.
[she looks at the radio carefully, like it's something she should recognize. like it's something that got plucked from her own body and that's how YoRHa units are meant to have a conscience.]
You can really talk to god on that thing? Back home, I mean. Direct line to him?
no subject
[ but that's hardly anything, compared to the stuff she says after that. no radios? no talking to god? no scouts? what the heck is any of that supposed to mean? ]
Yeah. He's 109.8 FM. You just kind of tune it there and pray. You really just... Can't hear him? Like, at all?
no subject
That's a dead frequency where I'm from, as far as I know. But we don't really use the radio anymore, either. Anyone who says they can talk to god, the world usually says that they're crazy, hearing voices... unless they have money, and then they get to host Sunday morning TV shows about faith healing.
[the commercialism of christianity is another topic. she doesn't have too strong an opinion on it, but only because her other opinions on supersets of that sort of thing are too strong on their own.]
Or maybe he just doesn't talk to me because I'm down to, like, three or four Commandments I haven't broken and I lost DM privileges.
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[ a world where belief in god, hearing god, means you're crazy. is that... good?? or the worst??? he has no idea-
wait. ]
Wait, people still believe in Him? [ he just sounds baffled, at this point. ] Wait, so, He doesn't talk, and you can't hear His voice, and He doesn't even answer when you pray, like...
[ he connects the diode with one hand, with a flare of static the radio comes back on - quieter, this time, though there's an odd hum as the antenna in his hand lights up in a burst of yellow heat. ]
So you have literally no proof He's real? He's just... an idea where you're from?
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I mean, we have the Bible, if you believe that he wrote it. But no, it's all... like, all of it is faith. You have faith that whatever god you pray to is listening when you do it, and you have faith that he'll know enough about you to punish the unworthy and reward the worthy, and you just live your whole life like that.
[and as bitter as she is about her own personal experience with religion, this is where her tone starts to get kinder. or perhaps just less like she's straining the words through the fine mesh between her teeth.]
For a lot of people, in whatever religion, that's enough. And I don't want to say that they're stupid or anything for going on faith, so don't get me wrong. It's just that... for me, I don't like it. Now that I have some distance from it, it starts feeling like a threat after a while. You know, "be a good little girl or Jesus will see and you'll have to confess your sins if you want to get into heaven".
[she makes a jerking off motion with her far hand while her eye spies the antenna lighting up.]
I should be careful. He could be listening to me right now.
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[ but that's not what anna has been talking about, really, and he shakes his head after a moment. ]
Sorry. Um. I mean, I guess going off faith is... okay? I just. That means something a lot different to me, I guess. [ a beat - and he smiles. ] But it's. Definitely a threat, haha. Like, you try to pretend it's not, but that's all it can be, right?
[ he blinks at anna's last words - then reaches down, apologetically disabling the radio. ]
He hasn't said anything since I got here. But I guess it's better to be sure, haha.
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[she doesn't present that like a mysterious, cool statement or anything more than that. her fingers twitch, like she really does want a smoke right now. she keeps leaving herself spaces for it in her conversation.]
But yeah, no, that's all it is. And the way that his faith works is you either believe in the threat or you don't... as far as I'm concerned, at least. Doesn't matter whether "father" is capital or lowercase. They only know how to do one thing.
[she decides, fuck it. she's already screwed up enough in this conversation. she reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes with a reddened needle on the side.]
Is it cool if I smoke?
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[ for some reason, he hadn't considered the fact that she might smoke. she kind of looks like she smokes? it's just... something about her. huh. his eyes linger on the cigarettes. should he... ask? that's probably not good. he probably shouldn't ask. but he could...
he just. keeps staring at them for a moment, his own conflict clear in his eyes. ]
It's... Faith is just kind of like that, huh? It's a promise for some people, and a threat for everyone else. Or something like that.
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[she pushes a cigarette out of the pack and puts it gently between her lips. then she lights it the only way she knows how, which explains the red on the needle. she pricks her finger, then creates a flame out of the blood, then lights the cigarette with it and snuffs her fingers out with a snap. she breathes in, holds the smoke for a moment so she can tell which direction the wind is blowing, and blows the cloud out away from the two of them.]
[but while she was looking around, she'd also taken a careful look at this kid's eyes. oh, he wants to be a bad kid so bad, doesn't he. she pushes another cigarette out of the pack and hands it towards him.]
You want one?
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[ this lady, this anna - she's bad news. if they were already bad kids, anna is living proof of what can happen. that there's a level past what they already are. that reaching that level doesn't mean you have to be alone, or empty, or miserable.
he should say no. he should turn away and run, some part of him says. but another part, with tendrils of smoke and honey worming through his soul, whispers: why? talk to her. speak with her. share, know, live through her.
he sounds like he's saying no. but before anna has a chance to pull away, before he loses the chance-
he's already reached forward, taking it between his fingers. ]
-you can't tell anyone. [ as if it'd matter here. ]
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Now just hold it between your lips like this. [she takes venus by the wrist and guides his fingers upward so he can have the cigarette where she wants it to be.] And don't flinch.
[she brings her face in close to his. it's inches away, and she smells of salt and smoke and oil and anything else that venus might pick up on. her eyepatch has faded bloodstains on it; her hair is grey and a very pale red mixed in with the white. her touch is gentle, like she's done this before, like she's not forcing him to stay in one place and giving him as many chances to run away as he'd like to take. without removing her own lit cigarette, she moves her cracked lips so the little death stick she's addicted to touches the tip of venus'.]
[when she sees it spark to life, she takes her time pulling herself back. letting go of his hand. leaning back out of his personal space. she knows she's hot. she knows it, for sure. she is about to ruin it with the smoky little endcap that she can't stop herself from saying. hopefully it's in a low enough voice that it still sounds the way everything else has looked.]
Then you wrap your lips around it and suck.
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and then she leans in, inches away from him, and he couldn't twitch even if he wanted to.
she smells like machinery, some part of him notes. anna smells like radios and engines and cigarettes, and her clothes have stains and her hair is tired and running low on color despite itself. she's nothing like neptune's carefully manicured, intimidating beauty. she's nothing like jupiter's soft laugh and hungry looks and fruity shampoo. she smells, looks, sounds like danger. like a sharpened sword.
it's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. she's the most profoundly beautiful thing he's ever seen. he thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe, between the way his heart spikes and the way his guts coil and his two eyes focus dead on anna's one, wide and cyan and utterly defenseless. the cigarette sparks to life, and anna pulls away, and for a second it's all he can do to not protest - "wait," or "stop," or "please, look at me like that for just a moment longer."
and then anna says that next line, and that's what finally gets the red flush to cross his cheeks. he's never heard someone just... say it like that. he's definitely never heard a woman say it, in that voice, with a cigarette she lit still between his lips. he thinks... no, scratch that, the way he shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly check his robe are all the proof he needs. he wants to hear that again, to do that again, to see it again.
but for right now, he does exactly what she said. he reaches up to steady it with his fingers, and he wraps those soft lips around it, and he sucks-
-and almost immediately blows out a cloud of smoke in a coughing fit. ]
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[she reaches over and pats venus' back when she sees him start to cough, and whatever spell they were weaving together is broken, at least from her end. she is very graciously not looking down into his lap, though she's certain of what she'll find there if she did. instead, her face is writ with concern and amusement both at once.]
Hey. Don't suck it too hard. [she's gonna be a little shitty about it.] Catch your breath. Try going slower if you want to take another drag. You got this.
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[ well... yeah. it was pretty hot, wasn't it, venus. he breathes in, and then out, and then in, and when he doesn't hack up a lung this time he finally raises the cigarette to his lips once more. the second attempt is honestly a bit pathetic - less of a drag and more of a teeny test puff - but he doesn't choke this time. he just screws up his face a bit and says: ]
Huh. [ a moment's thought, a moment's concentration. ] It's not... as bad as it could be?
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And it's sexy as hell. [reprieve over. she leans back and tilts her head up so she can blow a plume of smoke up and away from them.] You're welcome for the new arrow in your quiver if you ever want to impress those girls from back home. [she takes the cigarette between her fingers and lets it rest with her palm on the boardwalk.]
You're the first dude I've ever done that with, though. Usually I don't have the cigarettes getting in the way. [yes, if there's an implication that venus is drawing, it's the correct one.]
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