theodeon | Test Drive Meme #1

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's good. It's important."

He could count on one hand the number of people who cared about him, and he wouldn't even need all five fingers. He knew that was still something, that he still had people who cared, and he wouldn't trade any of them for the world, but-... He still wondered if he was unlovable. It wasn't just about romance, even though no one seemed to want him, and the boy of his dreams had told him, what was still just a few hours ago, that he wasn't good enough- he knew he hadn't been a good son, either, but he also knew that was because his parents didn't give a shit, and not the other way around.

"So long as you matter to someone, you're never 'no one'." And he knew too well what it was like to feel unimportant, a speck in space.

He snorted a bit, and it was both amused and a little surprised; he'd never considered that this could be hell. Not at any point. Not because he didn't think he'd probably end up there, but because he was pretty sure he was alive. "Damn, that's harsh. I wouldn't say Ohio's as good as Jersey, so far, but it's not that bad." He knew she was most likely being literal, but he was stubborn--and trying to lighten the mood.

After a pause, he cocked his head to the side. "Would I still be aware of my heart beating if this was actually hell?"

Jersey was a million times better than Ohio. And it was friggin' Jersey. But that was beside the point and Diana wasn't going to get into it.

Anyway, New York was superior. And California was the best.

She shook her head. "I don't really know," she admitted. "I've never actually been to Hell before. I mean, I guess I always expected to end up here but...it's not like I know the rules."

Of course, she'd read every holy text imaginable, describing the afterlife of the wicked. The only thing they all truly agreed about was torment and torture, but the form in which it took varied so considerably, there was no good way to establish the rules. She was sure there was more coming than just Ohio. She just had no predictions. Other than pain.

"I'd be surprised if you've been to hell." Because she seemed nice and he couldn't imagine, off the top of his head, what sort of things she could have possibly done to think she'd end up in hell. But also, there was the part where she was very much alive--as far as he could tell, at least.

"Same, though. I mean...I don't believe in heaven or hell, been sort of just banking on some eternal peace, but-" He shrugged a shoulder, mindful of not moving his arm too much, so he wouldn't risk knocking her off balance. But, if there was a hell, he figured he'd end up there.

"I know what they say about not judging a book by its cover, but...you don't seem like someone who should end up in hell." She'd been nothing but kind, which was honestly a large part of why he'd put away his barbs and venom and sarcasm.

The smile she gave him didn't quite reach her eyes. It was sweet, but he was absolutely right. Books. Covers. Yadda, yadda, yadda. She had sins she needed to answer for. One in particular, despite the fact that people had spent centuries telling her that it wasn't her fault that man was dead.

God. It was totally her fault. And no platitudes in the universe would change that fact. Nothing short of a time-traveling DeLorean would change that fact.

"You're sweet, but you don't really know me." A pause. "Okay, that came out sounding way sketchy." She shook her head. "I mean, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything. Promise. I mean, you're being nice and everything and helping me and I just..." Wow. Words were usually her thing. "Actually, I'm not sure you belong in Hell."

He laughed, but it was more startled than anything, and much more bitter than happy. He didn't think that sounded sketchy at all, actually; he'd heard so many worse things, some of which had actually made him pause for a moment. But not this.

"You don't know me, either. No one's ever called me sweet. Pretty sure no one's ever even thought it." His smile was hollow. "People think I'm a monster." And he hadn't really done anything to change their minds, but there was a certain safety in appearing dangerous. If people were genuinely afraid of the consequences, the chances they would fuck with him were much lower.

"Everyone's got skeletons in their closet." He was trying not to be a hypocrite. He was trying not to say that maybe, the fact she was sure she'd go to hell meant she felt guilty about whatever'd happened, and bad people didn't usually feel guilty about doing awful things. He didn't say it, because he knew then he'd have to apply that logic to himself, and it was so fucking hard to even begin thinking of himself as a good person.

"People are allowed to change though, you know? You could've fucked up in the past, but it doesn't mean you're still the same person who did that thing." He didn't know what sort of things she felt responsible for, but he would've said this either way. People could change and learn and grow.

Her smile got a little deeper, more relaxed. If nothing else, Diana believed in the ability of people to change for the better. Whether or not a Cainite qualified as 'people' varied, depending on her mood. But even she wasn't self-loathing enough to ignore the fact that she didn't have her old accent and that, in general, she didn't run around draining people dry for no good reason.

She didn't follow orders. Well, better to say she was more discerning when it came to orders.

Nevertheless, there was still one overwhelming question. "Okay, if you and I both think we deserve to be in Hell...how do we know this isn't it? I mean, we can't actually be in Ohio, right? Do you remember getting here? Because I definitely don't."

Logic. Artemis would be proud of her.

Tension coiled in his shoulders for a few long seconds, only easing away when he'd processed what she'd asked, and that it wasn't what he'd been expecting. Except, that was still difficult to answer, because there were things he couldn't just admit to, things he couldn't talk about freely. The last time he'd put his trust into someone...well, that hadn't been going too well for him.

He scrunched his face for a moment, mostly in thought about how he'd ended up here, but also because he was trying to figure out how much was safe to say. He wouldn't put it entirely outside the realm of possibility for him to have been whisked off to Ohio while being alive and physically fine.

"There was a portal or some shit like that, I think. Right before the cave." It'd happened fast though, and he still felt like he had some sort of emotional whiplash while trying to remember what, exactly, had happened. Had he or hadn't he woken up with the dragon? Had he left the dream before finding himself in the cave? It sort of blurred together. "I've seen some weird fucking shit though, so I can't really rule out 'magical portals' as a legit thing."

She wasn't really sure she remembered the portal. Except for the sensation of falling which, really, she'd just kind of assumed as a death throe. Their similar arrival, though, didn't necessarily prove anything, except that Hell or Ohio was consistent in whatever it was doing.

The fact that he wasn't immediately ready to dismiss the supernatural was more what piqued her attention, anyway.

There were lots of people out there who were 'in the know' about the world of darkness around them. The trick was sometimes sorting out the ones who did from the civilians--to use a military term that Diana hated and kind of hated herself for using. Her new friend was continuing to elevate himself to new levels of curiouser and curiouser.

"What kind of shit?" she asked. "If you...don't mind me asking."

He hadn't been sure he hadn't dreamed the portal at first, the flash of light that accompanied it. Or it could have been one of the fireworks, assuming he had woken up before getting yanked around. He didn't like all the uncertainties surrounding the situation, but it wasn't the worst thing he'd been through, and that counted for something. It didn't even make the top ten for worst things he'd experienced.

The only real problem with saying he couldn't rule out supernatural happenings was the fact that someone was always going to ask him why. No one had had to tell him not to talk about what he was, what he could do. The first time his father had called him a freak had been enough for him to figure out people wouldn't just accept what he was capable of. The very last time his father had called him a freak had been the day Kavinsky had convinced himself that the only person who would ever understand him was another dreamer. There'd been Prokopenko, and he might not be a dreamer but he'd handled things with more grace than K would have expected, all things considered--far better than how Ronan had treated him.

"I- the short answer's 'magic', but the longer answer..." He looked over at her, gesturing with a nod. "If you tell me why you look like you've been a vampire's chew toy, I might be inclined to elaborate." And by 'inclined' he meant he might feel safer, depending on the answer. Part of him absolutely expected it to have nothing to do with vampires, but the potential alternatives he could think of weren't so great, either.

Diana was uncharacteristically quiet. For a long stretch of the walk. Admittedly, she'd only just met Kavinsky, who had no idea what was typical or atypical of her. But the silence wasn't for show, it wasn't for him. It was a genuine and painful attempt to decide what to do next.

The Masqueraded dictated that she remain silent. The first rule of vampires was that you didn't talk about vampires. There was a lot of common sense and intellect that went into this rule. It made the world a safer, more survivable place.

Now, assuming she wasn't in the world any more, it didn't matter.

Assuming he was someone already in the know, it didn't matter.

On the off chance that he was just fishing for information...well. Diana had to take into account the fact that she was a crap liar and always had been. Even when she wasn't full of holes.

Artemis would know what to do. But Artemis wasn't here. Which meant Diana had to think for herself.

Ultimately, she sighed and settled on the path of least resistance. "Because...I've been a vampire's chew toy," she said very, very quietly, barely above a whisper. "For a long time."

He waited, patiently, because he knew what it was like to be asked hard questions. And also because trying to pressure her into answering quicker would just be an asshole move and he couldn't bring himself to even entertain the idea. He didn't want to be an asshole right now; there wouldn't even be a point to it.

"No shit?" He was quietly, genuinely surprised. "Fuck." It was sympathetic, said in the same tone someone would say I'm sorry. "I didn't really know if vampires were real, but-" but he'd always wondered, always been curious. And now would be the absolute worst time ever to make any sort of joke about how biting was hot. It sure as hell didn't look like it'd been remotely like that for her.

"Guess it's not the wildest thing, though." He hesitated. "Did all this-" the current wounds "-happen here or before?" Did he need to be on guard? Did he need to worry about vampires hurting her even more? They'd only just met, and he knew he wasn't even remotely close to what someone would call a hero, but- people shouldn't have to suffer or live in fear.

Merde. He hadn't known about Cainites. If, on the off chance they were actually in Ohio and not Hell, there was a Prince of this city, she was already off to a terrible start. But what could she do? She was a walking Masquerade breach as it was. And while she could potentially make him unsee what he'd seen...she didn't want to. He was nice. He was helping her. Her first act of freedom couldn't be so Cainite. It couldn't be.

Of course, it could all be academic. This could still be Hell.

Wow, her search for a bright side took her on a strange detour.

She shook her head slightly, looking down at the path. The hotel was close and still looked surprisingly normal. "Before," she said. "They're not here with us."

"Okay. That's- it's something, at least." It took the edge off his worry, and that was more than he could usually say about stressful situations that he found himself in. The hotel was getting close, too, but he didn't know what he'd do with himself right now when he didn't have walking to keep him moving.

"I won't tell anyone," he added. "I know how to keep my mouth shut." And he was sure that was a concern; everyone worried, naturally, that information they shared with someone would get spread everywhere. It was part of why he didn't generally feel inclined to share his secrets with people.

"And I'm a man of my word. I can tell you more about the magic I'm used to. If you won't tell anyone, cause it's- people are dicks about some things." And that was putting it mildly, really.

"I can keep a secret," Diana replied.

Which was both true and not true. Diana was loyal to a fault. The problem was that she was also honest to a fault, which sometimes worked against her. But she was still kind of leaning toward her strange 'bright side' of this all being Hell and secrets not mattering so much any more.

Anyway, anything to get the conversation off of her and what she'd been through. She wasn't really ready to talk about it.

"I'm trusting you on that." And he didn't trust easily. He couldn't even come up with a full five people he would share everything with. "This is something that could get me killed." He wished it was an exaggeration. He also wished there weren't things even worse than death when it came to this.

He huffed out a breath, not quite a sigh. This was a bad idea, but when had that ever stopped him from doing something? His life so far had been a series of one bad idea after the next.

"I can take things out of my dreams," he admitted, voice soft. "Anything I want. It's not- I don't know how common it is." He'd only ever met one other dreamer, after all. "It's not something people talk about, so I assume most people don't know." And he assumed that was for a reason; because people were accepting or understanding, as a whole. "I hate not being able to tell anyone most of the time, but I'm not stupid enough to announce it to the world."

Oh, God. Could she relate? Not to the whole dream part, that was definitely new. But as far as secrets she couldn't tell, no matter how much she hated lying...

Well. It wasn't about her.

"Wow," she said, turning over what he was saying in her mind and pushing her own thoughts into a deep, dark corner to deal with later. "You can take things out of your dreams?" No incredulity. She just wanted to make sure she understood. "So, like, if you're having a dream about...a pineapple...you can wake up and bring that pineapple into the real world with you?"

She didn't have much of a basis for comparison, but something about it all pricked a word in her head: Mage.

Merde. What was their deal again? She regretted not paying a little more attention to Arty's lectures.

"Yeah." A fraction of the tension eased out of his shoulders when he realized she wasn't freaking out, and if it wasn't now, it probably wouldn't ever happen. Even Ronan had needed a moment to pull himself together, and he had the same ability. He'd at least known another dreamer; he'd had his father. Kavinsky'd had no one.

"It takes practice, though. It sounds easy, just to talk about it, but dreams are so fucking malleable. One distraction and you could have a purple pineapple. Or a car with no front axle." The second example was absolutely from personal experience. "I worked for a long time to be good at it. Got a whole field of fucked up cars, and like, a dozen perfect ones." It was surprisingly easy to talk about things now that he'd started, like a busted dam where the water was only going to widen the break.

"It's more than just cars, though, but they're especially hard. Gotta keep all the parts in mind and wake up with it before something goes to shit."

Malkavians took dreaming very seriously. And as it happened, Diana had a not-so-secret passion for cars. The faster, the better. Kavinsky was definitely speaking her language and she was grateful.

God knew she needed the distraction, right now.

"A purple pineapple sounds kind of groovy," she said, smiling just a little bit at the ground. "Although, I guess I see what you mean about the car." A bit more complicated than a piece of fruit.

She paused. And then asked the question that was probably inevitable. "What about...living beings?" They were, after all, way more complicated than cars.

"Mmm, true. Guess it'd just depend on how it tasted." So long as it didn't taste purple--but he couldn't imagine a dreamt food tasting like food dye, considering there wouldn't have been any involved. Of course, it could end up fucked in other ways. It all depended on his headspace and intentions and what distractions happened and probably other factors, too. "And yeah, can't drive a car that's missing a whole ass axle." Which was why it stayed in the dream field with the other fucked up cars.

He probably should've expected that sort of question, but he hadn't and it caught him off guard for a second or two. But then, he felt a surge of relief when he realized the wording. "Yeah, those too," he replied, voice a little quieter. "First thing I ever dreamt was a puppy. Think I was about five or something."

He didn't know, actually, if dreaming animals and people was that much harder than cars. He didn't know if he'd successfully done it right at any point. He'd specifically made changes in one case, but the other- God, the worry he'd fucked up in the other case haunted him sometimes.

Her eyes widened a little bit and she actually turned to look at him. Not only was that unbelievably cool (and kind of adorable, with the puppy), but it naturally made her jump into her own dreams.

She dreamed of Joseph. Like, all the time. She missed him so much that it sometimes hurt. Her body ached for him. If she had the power to manifest her dreams, there might be a thousand of them running around in the world.

Would they be real, though? Diana wasn't sure. She often had a hard time defining what was real anyway.

It was probably for the best she didn't have that kind of power.

"Wow," she said. "That's...incredible."

He was so unused to receiving genuine compliments or anything even remotely like a compliment, that it took him a long moment to process it as such, and a moment longer to actually believe it. "I-...thanks. I think you're the only person who's ever said something like that to me. Not that a lot of people know in the first place, but-" he shrugged, like it was nothing. It was absolutely not 'nothing'.

"I guess my best friend probably doesn't think the whole deal's horrible, but..." but again, Kavinsky didn't finish that thought. "That'd be me making assumptions." And the worst part was, going with that assumption didn't even make him feel any better.

Compared to Diana's own supernatural problems, this seemed about as far away from horrible as possible. But this wasn't about her and it was useless to compare. Anyway, it was far easier to talk about him.

She had, like, a million questions. Even if she wasn't very smart, she was inquisitive. One had to be careful, though. If someone was revealing a big secret, that wasn't exactly carte blanc to needle them for information.

Kavinsky had limits and she wasn't going to test them to the extreme.

There was one thing she couldn't help asking, however. "Are there others like you? Who can do what you can do?"

He didn't mind questions, to an extent. Actually, he was sort of pleased to be able to talk about this, even if he still wasn't entirely convinced it had been a good idea to tell her in the first place. Having to keep it a secret for so long had been driving him out of his mind.

Though he wasn't sure how safely he could answer that. He couldn't--and wouldn't--out Ronan. Another dreamer's secret wasn't his to share, no matter how Ronan had treated him. Kavinsky thought it might be safe enough to talk about him without naming names, but Ohio wasn't that far from Virginia; he was going to have to try and be careful about the details of things.

"Yeah. Dunno how many, though. There's this...guy, and his dad was like us, too. The guy's the only other one I've ever met." And he'd thought...he'd thought so much, he'd thought they could be together, kings. "He goes to my high school, I figured he was just as lonely as I was, but-" He shrugged, a rough jerk of his shoulder.

Maybe it was because she was a hopeless romantic--emphasis on hopeless--but Diana immediately decided that this someone was much more than a friend. Just a story to lighten her heart a little. She wouldn't ask.

Instead, she gave him the faintest of smiles. "I'm glad you're not alone," she told him. "Nothing worse than being alone."

And she spoke from six months of massively bad experience there.

Not to mention a sense of loneliness, even when she was surrounded by people. Especially super annoying people who insisted that she was 'the Abel' and all that jazz.

Whether he was actually alone or not depended a lot on if he met other dreamers, he thought--but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. He just- he couldn't help but feeling anger and hurt snarl up in his chest. He'd spoken with Ronan just a few hours ago; it felt like it'd been a handful of minutes, still.

"Yeah, if I meet someone else like me." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He'd always been pretty good at burying what he really felt, except when it came to Ronan. "He fucking laughed in my face when he realized I wanted more than just- insults and races and flipping each other off on campus."

It was never going to be you and me. It'd been days ago and it was still burned into his brain, the pain of it bleeding into his memories of his last conversation with Ronan, the misery of that bouncing off the first and doubling the hurt.

"I helped him and he used me. He stuck around long enough to get what he wanted and then just fucked off like I'm fucking nothing."

Test Drive Meme #1

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