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theorememes2025-11-03 08:07 am
TDM #1, arc 1.0: we drift like worried fire
BUFF
Bonded of The Sorrowweld will find that the NPCs are especially friendly to them this month. Seriously, they just keep trying to give you things. It might get annoying.
DEBUFF
For those who are bonded to Tarnished Az-Mehet, you keep seeing shadows out of the corner of your eye on every screen in the ship, even your datapad. Something is lurking.
At first, you feel a pull. In which direction, you do not know. When a portal of shimmering black and glittering stars appears in front of you, it only seems natural to step into it. On the journey, it is as if you see everything: ancient galaxies wheeling through space, cultures born and growing and leaving their planets, lights creeping over landmasses and them winking out all at once. You see the hungry arm of a black hole, an enigmatic smile under a mirrored mask, a fist clenched tight around an endless sword. Fangs shining in starlight, bandaged feet that have traveled so many miles and still remain sturdy, and code shattering under titanium will.
And then your feet touch solid ground again, and what you have seen is suddenly hard to recall, the merest of glimpses springing to mind when you try to think back.
All you know is that you witnessed something enormous, something you probably shouldn't have seen.
As you struggle to refocus your gaze, all you see for a long moment is white. White walls, white floor. Narrow white cots lined up against a wall, screens blinking above them in tones of soothing aqua and mint. You are in a medbay — a highly advanced one, given the lack of bulky machinery — but perhaps the most eye-catching thing about the room is a long window showing endless black and twinkling stars outside.
Before you can give voice to any thoughts, a small robot flutters toward you, and perches on the back of a chair. "Hello, Wayfarer!" the birdform chirps cheerfully. "I imagine you must have many questions; allow me to enlighten you! You have fallen victim to a quantum accident and have been pulled to another universe, but the Ascendants, in their generosity, intercepted your signal and brought you here so that you did not wind up in empty space. You are aboard the Theorem of the Astral Rose; our mission is to explore uncharted space and search for the Song!"
They pause, thinking, their little blue eye aglow, and then brighten.
"Oh! Introductions are in order! I am Starling's Lament in Flight, but you may call me Starling's Lament. I am one of the Hosts of this exploration vessel; we will do everything we can to ensure a safe voyage for you. Unfortunately, at this moment, we cannot send you home. The Ascendants have indicated that their search for the Song may play some key role in doing so." They whistle a merry tune. "Please enjoy your stay!"
When you manage to get your wits about you -- it's a bumpy ride between universes! -- you start to leave the medbay. Starling's Lament has indicated that you are free to explore the ship, and nowhere is off limits to you. As you leave the cool white tones of the medbay behind, a hallway stretches out in front of you. Both sides are transparent, offering a view into the long dark of space beyond. However, unlike deep space, there is currently quite a lot to see.
On the left lays the broad curve of a planet, lush green landmass and white clouds skidding across its surface. Its star is just sinking behind it, lighting up the very edge of its atmosphere in tones of engine-burn orange and ozone blue, as long shadows cast by enormous space elevators creep across the landmasses. Its most eye-catching feature, however, are the hexagonal structures webbed across its surface, connected by fine corridors with all the geometric precision of woven spider's silk. You can just barely see the tiny dots of spaceships flowing around them, docking, embarking, shuttling between them.
"That is the Redline Trading Post." You hear a tiny whisper, and look up to see another robot — a beetleform, this time, with a shiny dotted shell — watching you curiously from its place on the ceiling. In fact, there are a number of other Hosts doing the exact same thing; a snakeform coiled around a barrier rail, a catform with bright yellow eyes peeking around the corner, a chirping droneform hovering some distance down the hallway. They're all fascinated by you. "But we will be departing soon. You will not get to taste the Galactic Snowball Nova-Cream, the shining culinary jewel of Redline. Sorry. I hear it is very tasty."
You look to your right, away from the planet and the Redline post, to gaze out into the depths of space. In the distance, there is a nebula, its gasses lit up in shades of coral pink and deep purple. It is pockmarked with stars both young and old, newborn stellar entities cradled in the depths of its life-making dust. Set against the dark of space, it is a flower in bloom.
It's beautiful, except—
The longer you look at it, the more something nags at the corner of your mind. A memory glances across your thoughts, unbidden. Something you hoped for, maybe; or something you fear. Whatever the memory, as you gaze at the nebula, a small piece of it curls, shaping in response to your memory. It is your face, reflected perfectly. Smiling, or howling in anger, or weeping.
Eventually, the nebula will go back to normal. But for now, it reflects the fears and triumphs of the new Wayfarers, a mirror held up in the darkness of space.
Once you make it into the bulk of the ship, the Hosts inform you that as they have just restocked all essential supplies, they will be throwing a party in your honor, and they hope you will sample the food.
Maybe you're incredibly dubious about this. Maybe you're starving after your long journey. Either way, you find yourself in the mess hall. It's less like a traditional mess hall and more like a park full of food trucks with seating in the middle. The food trucks are bright and eye-catching, Hosts serving huge heaps of food from their interiors, as their signs advertise everything from Earthen Ancient Egyptian food (As Close As We Can Reconstruct It!) to Raxalar Black Stew (New and Improved: Now Free Of Grit!).
Real grass is underfoot, and the picnic-style seating in the middle appears to be real wood. The lighting is a myriad; whimsical string lights strung between the trucks, floating globe lights playfully dancing like fireflies, and the luminescence of a dogform's patterns and a droneform's enormous eyes and a flyform's glittering trail. The Hosts are clearly excited.
And if the food happens to have... some kind of effect?
Well, the Hosts say, that's only to be expected! The attention of an Edict may, for a nano-second, turn toward the start of this voyage, and that's bound to make anything go a little wonky. Also, they've used some ingredients from the local system, and it's only customary there to share some thoughts and ideas and memories when you eat together. How else can you properly get to know each other?
This may or may not look appealing to you depending on your sensibilities, but it does smell incredible. Soft, savory red meat paired with the fragrant, earthy scent of the vegetable. The Red Buffalo is perfectly seared, and if you poke them cautiously, you'll find the spikes are entirely edible, as long as you chew well enough. If Wayfarers eat this, they will find themselves sharing a memory with the nearest person, a vision of the last time they were truly happy.
It seems the Hosts aren't quite sure of the appropriate alcohol content of substances, as this will burn all the way down, chased by a cool, sparkly feeling all the way down one's esophagus. It tastes of sweetly sour plums, and a potential hangover tomorrow morning. Wayfarers that imbibe this alcohol beverage will start overhearing the thoughts of those around them, as if they are perfectly in tune with everyone.
Ah, a perfectly homey looking meal, sweet and savory, gently steaming. These are a must-try for any Wayfarer with a sweet tooth, proudly boasting of the agricultural and apiary skill of a nearby alien culture. The buns are perfectly fluffy, the spiced honey is warming. What's not to love? After eating this, Wayfarers will find themselves and the nearest person sharing a vision of themselves as they might have been had they gone down the worst possible path in their life.
This isn't the Cherry Cola! you may or may not be familiar with, but it's interesting that whatever alien came up with this came up with the same Earth word. Or maybe the Hosts got it from Earth? Either way, it's fizzy, it's sparkly, it makes you feel like you're floating on rainbow bubbles. Upon drinking this, imbibers will telepathically project outward a vision of the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.
Dear god. What is it? Who came up with this? Who is even brave enough to try this? It certainly… has a taste. It… has an appearance. Whether either of these things are good is in the eye of the beholder. Wayfarers adventurous enough to put this in their mouths (or other eating appendages) will find themselves uncontrollably speaking aloud of the thing they long for the most.
Eventually, it comes time to launch.
The Hosts are a blur of activity, some of them packing up more delicate equipment in case of errant gravity waves during initial propulsion, some of them herding the Wayfarers into a seating area reserved specifically for the safety of its occupants during launch, deceleration, and rare turbulence. You are informed that engine flare will be so bright it will rival a star for the next twenty-five hours of engine start-up burn, but you will only need to stay strapped in for half an hour or so.
As the Theorem's enormous engines start cycling, the entire ship seems to hum in melodic song. And after everybody is strapped in, that's when the intensity starts. Gravity seems to want to push everything toward the stern, and Wayfarers are pressed hard against their seats with the inertia. After half an hour, the Hosts cheerily announce that everybody is free to get up and move around — but you might want to stay near a window, as they will be doing a low dive through the nearby planet's second moon's atmosphere, and it will be quite the sight.
Soon enough, the moon becomes visible. It is of unbroken crimson red, though subtle shifting in its surface lets you guess that it's water rather than earth. And then, as the Theorem rolls gently to the side, the view in the windows nearly perfectly split between moon and space, that's when you see them, swimming through the atmosphere.
To call them fish would be inaccurate — they are not in an ocean, or any body of water — and yet, that will be the word that springs to mind for most Wayfarers. Some of them are sleek and small, schooling in packs of shimmering white and ochre. Others are long and pointed, appendages pointed backward to exude a bright pink gas that propels them forward and which trails after them like oil slicks in the air. The locals call them x'enuda, the Hosts tell you, a combination of words that mean to fly and cunning prey.
They swim closer, swarming outside of the window. Some of them swim through, phasing through the shielding and windows alike, to dance gently in the interior of the Theorem, darting to and fro. If any Wayfarers find themselves curious enough to reach out and touch these creatures, they will find themselves similarly phased, capable of passing through matter for the next few minutes before the shared electrical field wears off and returns them to normal corporality. The external shield will catch you if you phase right through the ship's floor, but you may need to swim back up. Others may find themselves suddenly craving company, as if the x'enuda's instinct to remain safe in a school is catching.
"All Wayfarers, please report to the docking bay!"
As you filter into the enormous cavern that makes up the docking bay of the Theorem, you see rows of smaller spacecraft. Some of them are sleek and light, like they'd be as free as a feather during aerial combat, while others are bulky and spacious. Many of them have designs in alien languages on them, or bizarre looking mascots, seemingly for good luck. As the occasional screen informs you, you are free to claim any one of the ships as your own, but first, Starling's Lament would very much like to give a presentation.
Past the rows of ships lays an expansive opening in the side of the Theorem, many stories high and wide, a shimmering forcefield the only thing between you and space. Beyond it, you can see the quickly fading shape of the planet and moons you left behind as the Theorem continues acceleration. It is in front of this that Starling's Lament has set up a large hologram of a star map.
As they start to explain once everyone is gathered, the map currently shows the region of space you are in. It is an enormous quadrant of multiple galaxies, some pinwheeled in shape, some circuler or tube-like. A line arcs across it, heading into what is clearly less-explored space, beyond the area colorfully marked as Alliance territory. Eventually, that line stops at a star, which then magnifies to reveal a six planet system, the second planet from the star circled.
This is your first objective: designation Epsilon-355.
There are many stories of which planets the Last Pilgrim has set foot upon, and yet, nobody has ever verified any of them. This, the Ascendants claim, is the closest match they have found for one of those planets in a scrap of story: a land of golden sand and shimmering glass, where pilgrimages track their way across the Golden Barrens desert. The planet is small and unassuming in the hologram, and the details next to it are scarce: relatively normal gravity, breathable atmosphere. More details will become available as the Theorem gets close enough for in-depth scans.
If there any notes of the Song to be found, they may yet be found in the Last Pilgrim's footprints.
Presentation nearly over, Starling's Lament directs you a series of tables that have neatly assembled packages of gear. Once you have picked your Division, you are welcome to claim the technological tools of its trade. You can also look at the spaceships available to claim, or even just watch out the docking bay door as you leave the planet behind and head deeper into space.
Welcome to the mission, Wayfarer.
no subject
[ Then, all of a sudden, Reze is holding her stomach and pushing past her. Asa panics. Partly because her empathy is kicking in; partly because this is the closest thing she's had to a normal conversation since Yuko... since Yuko. Which is pathetic, but it is what it is. ]
Wait—! [ She reaches out to grab Reze's arm. ] If you're sick, you shouldn't go off by yourself. You could pass out and hit your head, or get lost, or...
Let me come with you. I'll stand outside if you want.
cw for puke
The hand on her arm makes her whole body freeze. She flips through her playbook of socially acceptable diversions but decides that perhaps, this is the best option. The farther her new companion, (possibly) fellow denizen of an earth with devils and the Soviet Union was from this food the better.
Reze nods and does not shake off Asa's hand. ]
Okay.
[ Thankfully, it's not difficult to find a restroom. It's clean and sparse, futuristic like some of the western scifi shows she's seen in passing. Before she enters one of the many stalls she looks over her shoulder at Asa.
Reze seems suddenly dour. Her posture is slumped, as if she's trying to curl into herself while standing. ]
If you're like squeamish you should probably cover your ears.
[ The door closes behind her and all it takes is a careful finger to initiate her gag reflex. The sooner this stuff was out of her body the better. ]
did not expect so much of it from this toplevel
[ Asa's voice from outside the door, doing her best to sound reassuring. She doesn't know what to say to comfort someone in this (or almost any) situation, so the platitudes are generic, but she is trying.
... It sucks feeling helpless. ]
I can get you some water if you want. That's supposed to help with hangovers. [ Weird. She isn't sure why she knows this much. Like, sure, there's the basic knowledge that comes from being a teenager in a place where alcohol is normalized, but it feels more personal than that. Like she's dealt with this before, or tried to. The all-too familiar consequences of someone drinking more than they could handle, and turning violent afterward if they weren't catered to. Sometimes even if they were. ]
average experience tagging you
She emerges after a few minutes, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She doesn't meet Asa's gaze but her eyes are watery from puking. Reze washes her face and hands before finally speaking. ]
It's okay. I feel better now- drinking on an empty stomach was probably super stupid, but the food here is weird.
[ Her stomach aches from hunger despite her ability to smother the feeling for days at a time. She's hardly picky; the food they feed her is slop at best and in the field she only ever ate what she could find or steal.
She looks at the girl offering a bashful smile in exchange for her unexpected kindness. ]
Thanks for coming with me. You didn't have to.
):
[ Girl, you ARE a toxin. Though by the way her stomach flips when Reze smiles at her, she wonders if she did somehow consume something weird without realizing. Must be the space-sickness, or whatever.
Asa smiles back as they leave the toilets behind. It's a little forced looking, but not because it's fake. She just forgets how to sometimes. ]
... It's fine. We're almost the same age. [ Okay...?? Not even "we're both girls" or "both (presumably) from earth". She's just grasping for a commonality to make this seem normal. ] Um. This is getting a little ahead of things, but I was thinking of joining the Research Division. I'm not sure yet, though.
Did you maybe... wanna go together? It's okay if you're not that smart. I'll cover for you.
no
She doesn't mind. Those kids always seemed like they were having fun; every episode of their lives ended happily.
(It helps that she finds Asa's chronic mouth-in-foot syndrome to be 'funny haha' instead of 'oh you think you're funny?!') ]
You really just say whatever you feel like saying, huh? [ She says it and she actually sounds amused. For now, it's little more than a charming character trait to Reze. ]
I appreciate the offer but I wouldn't feel okay dragging you down like that. I'm only good at like- one thing, so that's what I went with.
[ A fast follow in hopes that Asa doesn't ask her what that one thing is. ]
You must be suuper smart if you're good enough do that sorta' work and cover for a dummy like me.
))))):
[ From her tone, it's clear this not at all meant as a dig at Reze; just a general statement of her disdain for liars. She's always disliked fake people. (Turns out the universe has a sense of irony, given what she is now.)
Asa tries not to blush at the compliment. Fails. She forces a cough, and it's gone; her expression back to its usual too-serious-by-half appearance. Reze's plan works perfectly — she forgets her question in favour of talking about her own virtues. ]
I'm good at a lot of things. Not bragging, just speaking factually. But all the idiots will go for Security, and Support is vague. Science could be good, but Research sounds... safer. Not that I'm scared.
[ This is half true. She's scared in the way she's always scared; of people, things, situations. Not anything here in particular, yet. ]
At least we can still spend time with whoever we want. It feels more like a school club than a job.
no subject
Oh man, I totally forgot you're still in school. Cute. [ She coos like she's just seen a kitten yawn. ]
Well that's one way to look at it I guess! [ Her arm snakes around Asa's and links them together. It kinda' feels like she's holding her hostage (which in her mind, is kind of funny). ]
When you say whoever.. do you mean little ol me?
no subject
Ugh. If you were a boy, that would be so creepy.
[ And Asa would probably be punching her for linking their arms, instead of flushing and trying to look like she hates it when she definitely doesn't. Double standards? Not in this house. Her gaze flicks from Reze's face, to their arms, to Reze's face again, before settling on a point just past her. ]
No. Maybe. [ make up your mind bitch ] I mean, you're from Earth, right? Even if it might not be my Earth. So we have stuff in common. More than with other people. [ Rushed, ] Look, if you don't want to hang out, just say so.
You seem like someone who doesn't have a lot of friends back home, [ hello??????????? ] so I thought maybe you could do with one here. I guess that was pretty presumptive of me. [ Oh, she's going to apologize for calling Reze a friendless loser— ] Sometimes people are happier on their own. I know I am. [ nvm ] It was a stupid idea.
1/2
no subject
[ She patently ignores everything Asa has said. It's better that way. Reze has her own, unsettling quirks, no need to get worked up by someone else's.
Besides, she's never had female friends. ]
Even if you are a lone wolf.. you'll still stick with me right? There aren't a lot of girls here especially not our age.
no subject
S-sure... you can count on me. [ She swallows a little too obviously. ] I like you too, Reze. You're— [ on god she WILL think of a compliment... that's why there's a solid five second pause here. ] —um. You seem nice.
[ Nailed it. The problem is that now she's possessed with a burning need to impress this girl, to keep the compliments coming. ]
Hey. Don't tell anyone this, but I'm a member of the Devil Hunter club at school. You probably don't know what devils are, [ lmao, ] but I can protect you if things get crazy. [ With what powers, bitch? ]
no subject
Jeez.. do I really look that helpless?
[ Asa is a few inches taller than her, sure, but she seems rather scrawny. ]
Do you do that for free? It sounds dangerous..
[ This she didn’t know about— children killing devils in the name of what? College applications?
The thought make her nauseous. ]
no subject
[ Said with a hilarious amount of self-aggrandizing for someone who was forced into joining, whose only kill she immediately begged another devil to revive. Who was eaten by one devil, saved by a second, all while being possessed by a third. ]
I don't plan on becoming a Devil Hunter full-time. There's too much corruption involved, and the last thing I want is to make a contract with one of those things.
[ ... ]
Sorry. All you need to know is that I have more experience with fighting than you do. Unless you're actually a spy or something. [ hahahahah ] ... You have to tell me if you are, okay? Having shared secrets is important for friends.
[ She's joking about the spy part. Not about the second, though she's waiting to see how Reze takes her dropping the f-word before fully committing. ]