theodeon | Test Drive Meme #1

Entry tags:

Test Drive Meme #1

A Choice to Make

In the midst of your mundane existence, amidst a meal's consumption or perhaps amidst a desperate struggle for survival, you find yourself teetering on the precipice between consciousness and oblivion. Whether it's the mundanity of everyday life or the shock of an unforeseen revelation, the next chapter in your tale is etched in the unfathomable tapestry of destiny. Abruptly, a shimmering azure tear in reality wrenches you from your reality, hurling you into the depths of a foreboding cavern. Within its shadows, two sinister whispers assail your senses, each vying for control over the path you must tread. One beckons from the left, promising dominion and power under the aegis of an enigmatic ruler, while the other lures from the right, pledging a noble crusade for justice and salvation. With each step, the choice you make echoes with the weight of eternity, determining the very fabric of your existence

As you stand at the crossroads of fate, the air thickens with anticipation, suffused with a palpable sense of ominous uncertainty. The leftward passage glimmers with an otherworldly allure, hinting at the seductive allure of authority and supremacy. Yet, the rightward path beckons with an ethereal glow, resonating with the righteous fervor of a hero's quest to vanquish darkness. Each voice, a siren's call to divergent destinies, casts its spell upon your soul, weaving a labyrinth of moral ambiguity. For in this twilight realm where the veil between worlds grows thin, your decision is not merely a choice but a covenant with forces beyond mortal comprehension. Whichever path you elect to traverse, know that the consequences shall echo through eternity, shaping the very essence of your being in ways unfathomable to mortal minds.

Evil

Emerging from the left tunnel, you step into a labyrinthine city carved from the very bones of the earth, illuminated by flickering torchlight that casts eerie shadows upon the twisted visages of its denizens. Monsters, grotesque and malformed, roam the streets with a purpose that sends shivers down your spine. It becomes chillingly apparent that within this infernal metropolis, your destiny lies entwined with a bid for power at the side of a shadowy sovereign. Amidst the clamor of preparation, the temple to the enigmatic entity known as the First Evil looms ominously, its dark allure drawing in supplicants like moths to a flame. Should your throat grow parched from the fervent chants of devotion, the Cantina offers solace in its crude embrace, a sanctuary that exudes an aura of ancient malevolence amidst its clay and stone walls.

Yet, amidst the sinister ambiance, whispers of knowledge beckon, promising insight into the machinations of this unholy realm. Seekers of truth may find guidance from well-intentioned demons or delve into the esoteric depths of the Stacks, where secrets lie entombed within dusty tomes of forgotten lore. As curiosity compels you to explore further, the Bringers, sinister heralds of the impending darkness, stand ready to lead you to your abode, a cold stone sanctuary where dreams are haunted by the specter of impending conflict. And for those who prefer the solace of steel and the embrace of weaponry, the armory awaits, a chamber resonant with the echoes of impending strife, offering a grim reminder that in this realm, even sleep is fraught with the specter of violence.

2. Good

Venturing through the right-hand tunnel was a pact, a commitment to a harrowing struggle that now unfolds before you. Emerging into the realm beyond, you are met by a spectral figure, a girl whose countenance shifts with each passing moment, a testament to the legion of vampire slayers that populate this accursed domain. She, like her brethren, is both warrior and guide, leading you through the labyrinthine streets with a cryptic explanation that betrays the gravity of the task ahead. Together, you traverse the shadowed avenues, passing landmarks cloaked in enigma, such as The Odeon, a den of debauchery where the echoes of revelry mingle with the cries of the damned. With a sardonic grin, she points towards the gym, a crucible where the art of combat is honed amidst the backdrop of impending doom.

As you journey further into the heart of darkness, the Resurrection Cemetery looms ominously, a sepulchral sentinel guarding the threshold of a towering edifice—the colossal teaching hospital that casts a pall of dread over the surrounding streets. Amidst a labyrinth of silence and apprehension, you arrive at your destination, standing before the facade of the Doubletree Hotel, its ostentatious glamour a stark juxtaposition against the encroaching shadows of desolation. Yet, even as the hotel's opulence beckons, a lingering sense of foreboding whispers tales of recent upheaval, hinting at secrets buried beneath layers of opulent facade.

A Grave to Dig – Resurrection Cemetery

Patrol, it's the nightly routine for slayers, a dance with darkness amidst the tombstones, where the soulless minions of evil lurk in the shadows, ever loyal to the malevolent machinations of The First Evil. A cemetery of this magnitude, its layout intricate and labyrinthine, serves as the perfect battleground for the eternal struggle against the forces of darkness. But it is patrol, right? Surely you're not taking a detour to The Odeon without your trusty stake and crossbow. Strange choices in these perilous times, indeed.

This graveyard pulses with the heartbeat of vampiric activity tonight, more undead rising from their graves than ever before. Will you recruit them into the fold of darkness, their loyalty pledged to The First? Or will you stand as their nemesis, driving a stake through their unbeating hearts? The choice looms before you, a decision that could tip the scales of this eternal conflict, determining whether you become their savior or their midnight snack.

A Party to Crash – The Odeon

Amidst the haunting melodies of an otherworldly band, The Odeon pulsates with the feverish energy of revelers seeking solace in food, drink, and a hell of a time. At the jumpstart of the bash, there’s no doubt you'll get to soak up some of that vibe. But lurking amidst the revelry, there's more than just party plans brewing.

If you've been getting those Slayer senses tinglin' 'bout the graveyard gig, hold onto your stakes 'cause The Odeon's gonna be jumpin' too. Within the shadowed halls of The Odeon, a palpable tension lingers, as The First Evil's malevolent design looms ominously over the unsuspecting patrons. In this twilight realm where the line between good and evil blurs, the clash between opposing forces is inevitable, and it's here, amidst the haunting melodies and whispered secrets, that the true test of one's training and arcane talents shall unfold.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Ashley had made himself quite comfortable. Shoes kicked off he lounged with his feet on the laminate tabletop. Several empty drink glasses circled a half eaten onion blossom. He plucked another petal and popped it in his mouth as Kavinsky took a seat.

"Truth or dare, huh?"

The other option was going back to the hotel. To a dark, empty room alone. He is a little tipsy, starting to lean toward drunk, but not enough that the heavy sense of loss pressing on his chest is gone. Being alone with that feeling, with everything going on in his head, was a bad idea. At the hotel he had gotten as far as staring at the door to his room. Instead of turning the handle he turned around and found his way to The Odeon. Crowds. Noise. Drinking. A place he could try to get out of his head. Or at least not face what he was feeling.

He chased the taste of deep fried onion with a gulp of something amber swirling in his glass.

"I'm game."

Hotel

Memories of where he had been before reaching the crossroads were fuzzy at best. Feelings more then actual memories. Thoughts that weren't anchored to people or places. He kept thinking about how glad he was to be back on solid ground, but didn't really know why he felt that way. Or why the heavy feeling of loss pressed firmly down on his chest.

"This must be hell." He mumbled as he stretched out on the couch in the lobby. A Doubletree in No-Where, Midwest USA. Even as he drew breath and could feel his pulse, he was still debating if he was dead or not. The girl he had followed to the hotel hadn't told him anything that made him feel certainty one way or the other. Was this a bad dream? This place kind of had that ominous energy he always felt before diving headlong into a nightmare. Like something was waiting in the shadows.

The only certainty he has is that sitting alone in an empty hotel room is a bad idea. He can have his existential crisis and people watch in the lobby. There were other people. That's a good sign right?

The Odeon

He convinced himself that going to the club was a good way to learn about where he was and the people who lived here. Get a better feel for this place. It was also just the kind of thing he has always done to push back feeling lonely. He often frequents bars and clubs to get lost in the crowd of strangers. To drink his thoughts away. Dance and sweat to the pulse of a good song and forget.

Perched at the bar he leans back to support his upper body against the counter.

"Who is this band?" He asks. His foot jiggles along to the beat where it is resting on the barstool.

Wildcard

[PM to discuss if you have a really wild idea, otherwise I'm game for just about anything.]

"I want to say this is some elaborate hoax, some reality TV stunt. But I don't have a body and until I got here I couldn't leave my high school." Maddie avoided the word ghost not because it was something she was uneasy about in practice, but a question that comes up after 'ghost' is 'how did you die.' And Maddie did not know where to begin on that.

"Maybe they need someone to offer them tea and polite discussion on if Humanity really needs ending or whatever's going on." She didn't believe a word of what she just said, but who knows, maybe the idea is funny enough to be worth it.

He could see her, alright. He hadn't really been paying attention at first, not until he'd realized she'd swiped a drink--except that wasn't entirely accurate--and no one had noticed. It was more like she'd cloned the drink, or something. Kavinsky'd seen enough weird things, especially something where nothing had been before, that he didn't really bat an eye. But his curiosity was still piqued. It'd been sort of like in the dream field, watching Ronan wake with dreamt objects in his hands, which had previously been empty.

So, obviously, he'd taken his own drink and meandered over nearby, not close enough to be uncomfortable, but close enough that he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard when he replied. He had to squash the immediate urge to be sarcastic or make a joke, something about how jocks made a lot of people feel invisible, and honestly his restraint should have been rewarded, considering how infrequently he exercised it.

"Yeah, I can see you just fine. I take it that's not the norm?" He figured either something (else) was going on or the guys at the bar were somehow totally oblivious to cute girls. One of those was a lot harder to believe than the other. "I like your trick, by the way," he added, gesturing to the soda in her hand.

Kavinsky wasn't what most people who'd ever met him--or heard of him--would consider kind, but really, that just spoke to how fucking little they actually knew about him. He was more than barbs and a sharp grin, paired with an even sharper tongue--it just took the right moments, the right people, to make him visibly give a shit.

The first thing he noticed, actually, was the fact the young woman was barefoot. Then, he took in everything else, and fuck if he didn't resonate with the expression on her face more deeply than he was ever likely to admit. There was no reason for him to be an asshole right now so, quite simply, he wasn't.

"Good fucking question." There was no anger in his voice, just a sliver of frustration that had nothing to do with her. "Asked the same thing myself. Ohio, apparently? Never been though, so I've just gotta take people's word about that."

He paused a moment, frowning more in concern than anything else, and added, in a notably gentler tone, "Are you okay? There's-" he gestured behind him at the couches and chairs in the lobby "-plenty of places if you need to sit and take a breath."

"Not normal back home, not having a body usually means living people can't see me." Casual and conversational, just a little hint at the whole 'ghost' thing. Being able to tell apart who was here because of the weird goings on, and who was just from Cleveland, was a nice side-effect of her condition. "Rules all seem a little different here. Then again I'm not really great at rules."

"I'm Maddie, and my trick only works because the mortal world is just out of my reach." Being a ghost was not the worst thing in the world. Being trapped in high school for the foreseeable forever was. Being a ghost in Cleveland was, a bit, of an improvement. "Plus it isn't like the bartender could see me anyway, or take my money. Really making me think coming out to a bar wasn't my brightest plan."

Kavinsky might have been too bone tired and weary to notice the bloody footprints on the sidewalk outside of the hotel, but he absolutely noticed how bloody--and potentially wounded?--the woman a few yards away was. He wasn't really bothered by blood--once you'd been in or witnessed fights where someone's nose got busted and gushed everywhere, blood stopped being shocking--but he still felt a rising bubble of concern. And maybe a bit of morbid curiosity.

He took a few steps closer, cautious about it, and said, "Hey, are you okay? You look sort of like..." He paused a moment, struggling not to make some sort of joke that she probably definitely wouldn't appreciate. "Like you need a lot of bandages and some rest." But, strangely, despite all of the blood, she didn't seem like she was about to keel over. Thank fuck, honestly; what would he do if that happened?

Diana turned around. Normally, she carried herself with grace, like a dancer spotting her head. But she was so disoriented, she probably looked more like a toddler, barely keeping her balance.

Scratch that 'barely.' She listed to one side for a second, before compensating the other way.

Only then did she actually get a look at the stranger. Sloppy. Artemis would have been furious at her for letting her guard down. But Artemis wasn't here. Anyway, did it matter if you got jumped when you were already dead? Well, she had been waiting for hell to get a little more hellish...

Right! The guy. He seemed...not dead. Cute, in a tattoo-y way. And he was offering concern. Diana forced herself to swallow hard. She was surprised by the effort it took to talk. Except for the fact that she hadn't really been able to say much of anything for months. "I..." Another swallow. "I don't know where I'm going," she admitted. American accent. One that was aggressively West Coast, even if she wasn't playing the role of Valley Girl at the moment.

He did look comfortable. Kavinsky was a little envious. Not because he would feel self-conscious about doing the same himself, but because he didn't know this place, and if something happened where he needed to run--or maybe kick someone--in a hurry, he wanted to have his shoes on already to do so. Though...he supposed they could also double as a weapon if he needed to chuck them at someone.

Either way, he eyed the onion blossom, weighing his chances, and then leaned over, reaching towards it. He didn't quite ask, but he did pause a moment, raising an eyebrow in question, to judge Ashley's reaction before actually snagging any of the food.

"Cool." Unlike a lot of other things currently going on. Maybe he should have been grateful for- something, but he didn't feel very grateful about anything right now. "Any qualms, questions, concerns before we get started?"

Something occurred to him after a moment, and that was, considering they were about to potentially spill personal information or get into hi-jinks (read as: get into trouble), he should probably introduce himself. "I'm Kavinsky, by the way."

To understand the suggestion, Tara has to claw her way to a new level of awareness. It comes slowly, like picking away at stone in search of the sunlight beyond a tomb. She is outside a club, she knows that much. She's speaking to a ghost. And... yes, most people would find that strange, if they couldn't see the ghost.

She doesn't want unwanted attention right now. So she moves, still cradling her hand, gaze numbly fixed ahead of her. Like blinders on a horse; she can only handle so much stimulus right now, and keeping her vision focused directly ahead helps a little.

"Yes," she eventually answers in a murmur, staring down at her burned fingertips. "That was magic. It... doesn't normally do that."

Two short sentences and her throat feels raw already.

Tara looks up at the ghost, beseeching. "Do you know where we are? I... don't know how I got here."

"Ohio?"

Tara blinks slowly, a crease in her eyebrows as she struggles to comprehend that answer. She had died in California, and she assumes she was buried there too. How is she in Ohio? Why is she alive? ...Why is she both alive and in Ohio, of all places?

She both hears and doesn't hear his gentle suggestion to sit; there's a roaring in her ears, and everything is so loud. She can hear a foot scuff over the carpet, and some wooden floorboards squeaking, and other confused people. Tara's not the only one that has mysteriously wound up in Ohio, it seems, and she tries to cling onto that fact, like an anchor in a roaring, chaotic sea. She doesn't recognize the man speaking to her, but if he's in the same situation, he might be a friend.

Tara presses a hand to her temple, pained. Goddess. Even thinking hurts.

"There was... a portal," she recalls. "A spirit of slayers. And then... here. Did that happen to you too?"

He gave the plate a nudge, moving it closer to Kavinsky. An invitation to eat. "Nah, man. Nothing is off limits."

There were very few places or people that ever made him feel uneasy. When you can transform into a monster it's easy to make yourself at home no matter where you are. Ash carries himself with the confidence that comes from knowing he can literally tear someone to pieces but not having to prove that to anyone. There is a playful glint in his eyes as he watches Kavinsky.

"Kavinsky." Ash tosses back the rest of his drink. "I'm Ash. Need a drink?"

So- the portal didn't do this to the other guy she met. If this happened to all living things that'd be a really bad portal for saviors of the world or whatever. This was- specific. It kind of reminded Maddie of the first few minutes after she woke up a ghost, but she also lost about five hours of time.

And her physical body, that was kind of traumatic to lose.

Maddie's expectations of deep conversation are low, she's looking for a few clues to how she can help. If she can help. This seems above what a girl who can't even offer hugs can manage. "Do you know where the hotel is, did you wander off during the tour? Anyway, best I can offer is this is Cleveland, that was the one club all the local heroes drink at. And we're suppose to save the world?"

Still sounded fake when she said it.

Oh. Yeah, it was easy to pick up on the hint, to figure out that it must mean she wasn't alive. This wasn't his first time talking to someone who'd died, so he might not have been surprised--but he still thought it was fucking unfair. No one should be dying when they were however old- he wasn't sure, but she seemed like she was probably around his age, give or take a year or two.

Someone else probably would have expressed their condolences or something, but Kavinsky wasn't someone else. "Yeah, I'm not great at rules, either. Think I'm allergic to 'em." He'd been thinking, before, that sometimes it'd be nice to just go about life under the radar, not constantly hearing people talk about him, but an alternative like that? Usually going unseen by living people? It sounded like hell.

"Kavinsky," he replied, as his own introduction. "And I mean, coming out here still seems like a fine idea? Like, what's the alternative? Being alone somewhere?" He scrunched his face at the thought. "Places like this have a good atmosphere." Unless, he supposed, you were invisible to most people...and being reminded of it was awful. "Personally, I always throw a party when shit's fucked. And I throw 'em even when everything's fine."

He didn't want to ask what had happened to her, even if he was curious--it was personal and it would be prying and he was pretty sure, from his experience with Prokopenko, that rehashing potentially traumatic shit wasn't cathartic for anyone. So instead, he said, "Sounds like you've got the hang of all this, though." Like, how shit worked, at least.

Jack chuckles. "Yes, see, I would be very good at that. I make very good tea," he says, only about half-joking. He is, frankly, kind of nervous about all this. They really should have kidnapped Ted if they want a big strong protector, not him. "Maybe the forces of evil just need someone to listen sympathetically to their sorrows, you know? I am pretty good at that, too."

"That is a very nice purpose," Jack has to agree, sounding maybe a little fond at the idea. Yes, okay, she's a hologram or AI or both, but she seems sweet. Anyone who wants to help that much can't be bad, right? "I am glad you have combat abilities, though," he adds. "I am very bad at fighting."

"Absolutely no idea," Jack answers, looking a little bit like all the noise and crowding in the nightclub is giving him a headache, but he's sticking it out gamely for the moment, perched on a nearby barstool. "Someone local I think? Definitely a cover band, though. I recognized two songs earlier."

Jack has no control over his shapeshifting, sadly. It's the full moon or bust for him, maybe at the behest of a powerful artifact or life-or-death situation.

But it also means he is absolutely not afraid of coyotes. He kind of likes them. They're often cleverer than wolves, and have a pleasant kind of yipping call. So in his wandering, spotting one amongst the gravestones, he pauses and tilts his head curiously.

"All alone, friend?" he asks amiably of what he assumes is a wild animal. It's in Spanish, because he doesn't expect her to understand him.

"They don't suck." Ash says with a smirk. His eyes drift from the band to the stranger at his side. Shifting on the stool he turns so he can better see who spoke to him. If he doesn't know who the band is maybe he is also new here, he thinks. Or this just isn't his scene. "Come here often?"

Oh--he was starting to re-think the assumption that she didn't seem about to keel over. Well, she still didn't look like she was going to drop dead, but he figured she might've lost enough blood to be woozy--which was still concerning. How much blood did someone have to lose before they needed a transfusion? Fuck if he knew.

"Yeah, that's fair." He might have lived in Virginia for the last seven or so years, but he'd never fully lost his Jersey accent, it was just a bit more vague than it'd been before moving to Henrietta. "I followed some chick here a little while ago but I'm still pretty fuzzy on the details of, you know, everything."

He paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best course of action here. "You should probably sit down." He wasn't sure if he should suggest a hospital or not, and if he did, he wouldn't even know where the closest one was. "The hotel's got a bunch of couches and chairs and shit in the lobby." And he didn't give a single fuck if anyone would complain about blood on the furniture. Of course, he was also hoping she could make it that far without disaster.

"You followed a..." So she hadn't imagined it. Diana wasn't sure if that was a relief or not.

Over the past few months, she'd started to have extremely vivid hallucinations. Mostly of Joseph. Not the Joseph she'd known, but Joseph as he might be today. Usually in a brown leather coat and one of those annoying fedoras that only dicks could pull off with a good dose of charm. He spoke to her. Sometimes he even sang at her.

The message was always the same: It was her own damn fault.

Diana didn't know what to make of the mysterious woman she'd followed. Somehow, knowing that it wasn't just in her head was less comforting than she would have thought.

Absently, she nodded. "You've been to the hotel?" she asked. "It's real too?"

"Yeah, I know- of all the places, right?" He didn't know what was so special about Ohio that people were getting dragged in--assuming he wasn't the only one, which was the thought he'd been running with so far. Of course, he knew that a place didn't have to seem special to the untrained eye for it to actually be special--he was just curious about what it was.

He wanted to do something, wished he knew how to help, but comfort wasn't usually his strong suit. He could be patient though, so he didn't mind the lack of response to his suggestion. He knew what it was like to be overwhelmed, though maybe in different ways.

"Oh, yeah- that happened to me." He nodded. "There was a weird cave, too. So, the tour guide girl was the spirit of slayers? I guess that explains why her face was doing that thing, but-...no idea that all actually means."

(Un)luckily enough for Buffy, inevitable chaos doesn't take long at all to find her tonight. Normally, a club like this would be the perfect spot to cut loose and unwind; she's gotten down in seedier and crappier dives than this, after all. But the vibe in this place is rubbing her the wrong way, and somehow the rhythm of the night is lost on her.

"Hey, B."

That's all the greeting she gives before she sidles halfway into a seat at Buffy's table, hitting her with an amused smirk that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Feels like you're kinda missin' the point of the whole 'club' thing."

It sounds like teasing, but there's definitely an unspoken question there. Part of her hopes Buffy's just playing the straight-laced responsible chick again. Another part knows better. If Faith's on edge, that's just old-fashioned paranoia, but if Buffy feels it too...

Faith's never been miss sensitive, but even she feels something wrong in that club. Maybe it's the Slayer spidey-sense, maybe the vibes are just that bad. Or maybe it's just paranoia.

Either way, she's not inside long before she opts to duck out back for a smoke. She's not even paying attention, really, to who's around her as she slaps a cigarette out of the package and pops it between her lips-

And then the girl next to her apologizes.

She pauses for a sec to evaluate. Not a threat. Just a granola chick, definitely not somebody she'd expect to see at a club like this. She shrugs as she pulls out her lighter.

"No big. We're five-by-five."

And then, as she lights the cigarette, she realizes a couple things. One, she swears she's seen this chick before. She can't remember when, but the face is real familiar. Hopefully that's not a big deal.

Two, that spark of fire in the other girl's hand isn't another lit cigarette. It looks like magic. She takes a drag on the cigarette, plucks it from her lips, and nods toward the other girl's hand, trying to keep the wariness from her voice- granola here looks freaked enough already.

"... you might wanna watch that, though."

Excellent. Kavinsky plucked a piece of onion blossom, leaning back in his chair before popping it in his mouth. "Cool." Except this time, his grin said he might make Ash regret that. Though, he was well aware that if he pushed buttons and came up with wild questions or dares, he'd be encouraging the same behavior from the other man, so...he might behave himself. Maybe. Depended on how dangerous the atmosphere felt as things went along.

"Absolutely. If I ever turn down alcohol, assume I've been body snatched." Or would it have been easier just to say 'replaced by a pod person'? He figured either way got the point across, not that he remembered much about that particular old movie, but- close enough. "Besides, I don't think there's such a thing as 'too much' to drink right now, considering all the bullshit."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 2 of 11

Test Drive Meme #1

iii.

Ashley | Werewolf the Apocalypse TTRPG (OC) | OTA

no subject

B! 100% canon blind and a-okay with spoilers!

i!

no subject

Arrival

no subject

Re: iii.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

have another werewolf, friend

Cemetery

i will collect all of the puppies

no subject

no subject

no subject

Crashing time

The Odeon (cw: tobacco/smoking, feel free to tell me if you'd rather I rework it)

no subject