TDM #1, arc 1.0: we drift like worried fire

[lamentus]

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!"

REFLECT

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.

IMBIBE

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?

RED BUFFALO SHANK WITH SPIKED LOTUS

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.

UPSIDE-DOWN PLUM SPARK-WINE

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.

GOLDEN BUNS WITH SPICED HONEY DRIZZLE

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.

CHERRY COLA!™

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.

A CAKE. MAYBE.

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.

INITIATE

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.

FOREWORD

"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.

(CODE)

Comments

cw: talk about hospitals, chronic/terminal illness

[fatalis]

No. [ The answer is immediate, tumbling out of his mouth before Jayce is even sure he's fully processed what Viktor said. Jayce wrinkles his nose once he does and shakes his head too. ] Anything else, maybe. But you'll still be Viktor to me.

[ Easily, Jayce melts into that embrace, breathing in and trying to force out the chill that's been sinking into his body every second since he came to on that bed. It's hitting him now what it reminds him of, old memories he doesn't want to think about, the dreary, sterile walls of hospitals, somewhere he's hated since his dad started to succumb to the black lung of a smith, the tall unscaleable walls that reminded him of what he couldn't change.

Jayce doesn't want to think about those things, so he just thinks about Viktor. He hasn't noticed that the crutch is different, the wrong shape, the wrong color, not until he's pulled back enough to see more than the fabric of his partner's shirt. Jayce steps in again, supporting him more like he doesn't trust it (he doesn't). ] Yeah, we'll look. If we're here, they must be. Right?

[ Hopefully they weren't the only ones who survived. Jayce thinks of Mel, of Cassandra, people he owed so much to. The least he could do is hope they made it out too. ]

Yeah? [ The pause bothers him. ] V? [ Jayce looks up, follows Viktor's gaze towards the nebula but he looks away just as quickly, not sure if he'd see the same thing he saw before or if he'd see something worse. ]

Yeah. Where to?

[victus]

[ A step too far, he thinks, instantly regretful. Viktor rubs Jayce's arm with his free hand, wishing he didn't need to wear the gloves but knowing it was a necessity — at least for the moment. So he focuses on centering his partner as best he can, hoping to draw Jayce out of his head and anchored on the here and now. ]

Right, [ he echoes, confusion briefly coloring his expression when Jayce steps closer again. And then it clicks. The crutch. Amused, Viktor presents it for his partner's scrutiny, grateful for the distraction. It will keep him focused on something that isn't being flustered by Jayce's proximity. ] Does it meet your expectations? [ Viktor already knows the answer, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

He's leading them in any direction that isn't the overlook, already knowing intrinsically what might have been waiting for him back there. If he can help it, Viktor wants to avoid that conversation with Jayce until he's chosen it — and not before. ] Exploration. It could take a lifetime to map this entire ship. Starting now might give us some idea of what to expect.

[fatalis]

[ It is, but only because it's a joke that just makes Jayce feel guilty and that reminds him that he's stubborn and selfish, and it makes him feel worse until he's spiraling. Standing here, separated completely from the lives they'd been living, Jayce can see in stark relief how far he'd drifted from everything he cares about, the lab, their work, his partner.

The hand on his arm is soothing though, enough that it keeps him from slipping under the surface by all these heavy emotions are still trying to pull him down. Jayce squeezes Viktor's arms with both his hands, rubs them against his biceps like he's trying to warm him up.

His palm settles on Viktor's back when the crutch is presented, using his other hand to take the device, frowning almost comically. (It's a pout.) ] No. I mean, does it meet yours? We can fix this. [ Jayce remembers the schematics for the old one, but he's more than eager to adapt it further with Viktor's guidance. ] Do you think they have something around here? A forge? A lab?

[ Jayce is already forgetting everything that was picking at him. None of it's gone, but it's pushed back, shoved somewhere else to come back to haunt him later. For now, that's good enough for him. ]

Yeah. [ Jayce glances around, avoiding looking out any of the windows. ] Do you think they have a map? I don't want to get lost in here.

[victus]

[ It's always been a source of great comfort to Viktor that Jayce never seems to have qualms touching him. Each one is casual, seemingly instinctual, and it's nice for someone touch-starved and so naturally demonstrative themselves. He's had to reel that part of himself in for many years — at least until Jayce entered his life. Leaning into the hand on his back without hesitation, Viktor snorts at his partner's criticism. ] A damning condemnation, [ he teases, shooting Jayce a smirk. ] But yes. It will need improving.

[ Eagerly, Viktor retrieves the crutch so he can lead them both, brightening the longer they talk. Oh, how he's missed this — the way they used to work so effortlessly together. It's returning now, and he's desperate to contain it. ]

Getting lost is useful, [ Viktor insists, smiling as they move forward. ] Do you think I had a map when I broke into the Academy? [ He snorts. ] We will find our way. We always do.

[fatalis]

[ The instant Jayce realized that Viktor didn't mind his affectionate nature was the moment he let so much of his guard down, and he's never stopped touching him since. A hand on his shoulder, on his spine right between the blades, on his arm, nudging him with his knee in particularly boring meetings, pulling him into a hug in celebration, all of them Jayce did and more and he didn't realize how much he'd missed it until now. ]

Yeah, well, [ and Jayce interrupts himself with a scoff, an amused grin on his face, ] they should have thought about that when they got rid of the old one. [ The pout is back. ] We worked so hard on that.

[ It's one of his proudest achievements, more than even the Hex Gates, and right behind everything else he's ever made for Viktor. ]

We'll make a better one. [ That's a promise.

Jayce pats him gently on the back and smiles as he turns on his heel, following at Viktor's side. It's nice, he thinks, to just wander and well, get lost. Recently, his life had turned into running from one meeting to another, stealing moments for the everything else. Not feeling hurried?

It's nice. ]

No I guess not. [ Jayce stretches his arms over his head and falls into an easy pace. ] So are we picking turns at random? Do I pick one and you the next?

[ A soft smile reaches his face, brightening it. ] Yeah we do. We will.

[victus]

[ Sometimes, Viktor wonders whether Jayce understands the implications of all this touching. What others might think of it, how they could interpret that. Not that he's at all resistant to it — quite the opposite, actually — but eventually, he realized Jayce didn't know, and something about it warms his heart even if it also hurt. Both a comfort and a painful reminder. ]

We will, [ Viktor agrees, full of confidence. It will be a nice first project to focus their efforts here. Before they're inevitably swept up by everything else, of course.

A huff of amusement escapes him at the question. ] I like it. [ They approach the end of the long walkway at a moderate pace. Viktor glances at Jayce with a glint in his eyes, waiting to see which direction he'll point them in first. ]

You know, [ he begins conversationally, voice light, ] I don't mind it here. It could be enlightening. [ A pang of guilt shifts between his ribs, the real reason lying just underneath the confession. ]

[fatalis]

[ Jayce knows now because it's hit him like the explosion that had led to their first meeting, startling and rearranging his entire idea of his whole life, the last near-decade where the familiar comforts of everyday turned into something he'd started to take for granted. Waking up here was a shock to his system but now comes the figuring out the mess it's made of all the things in his head.

But right now, he just feels free and they've got time, especially if they end up getting lost.

Grinning over at him, Jayce casually sidles over a little closer. ] Yeah? Okay, well, then I say we go... left.

[ And not just because he's left handed and that's his default. ]

I think so too. [ He gestures widely, a large, sweeping gesture. ] Look at this place. The things we could do here. [ The excitement is building up in his voice, a giddiness not unlike that night they'd first worked together, breaking into the Academy like they weren't risking everything. ] I like it here. Once we're done getting lost, we should see if we can find a lab.

[victus]

[ Turning left without hesitation, Viktor feels a little bit more himself, far more than he has in weeks. It's comforting. It's affirming. They could be remade here — carefully sewn together, hewn by the common purpose they'd lost sight of.

His expression softens at that boyish enthusiasm, the one that's always been so infectious to him. Viktor feels like his heart is singing, a melody plucked by Jayce's words, and that —

Well. A thought for another time. ] I see we're already settling in. [ There's warmth in his voice, and teasing. ] A lab space would be ideal, but we can repurpose what we need to suit our efforts. Resources, however ... [ Viktor trails off, watching one of the animal robots waddle by. His gaze sharpens with interest. ] Do you remember our plans for that automaton?

[fatalis]

[ Jayce turns when Viktor does, following him left as if he wasn't the one who suggested the go this way. And for all he's looking around, at the lights, the panels on the walls, the keypads sitting next to the doors, he keeps finding his eyes drawn to Viktor.

The overhead lights are so bright they seem like their glow is catching in the ends of his hair, but it's the confidence in his step that keeps dragging his attention back. It reminds Jayce of the early years of their partnership, when both of them felt like this: certain, eager, excited.

Jayce looks away at that comment, ears burning with the blush settling in along the shell. ] Well, why not. We're here. I want to take advantage of this opportunity. [ Because that's what this is. A second chance, a way for Jayce to get back to the life he never wanted to leave behind. ] There has to be one here. Look at this place.

[ His eyes sweep over the corridor they're in, briefly out the windows, and then, like it's his neutral, right back to Viktor. ] Resources, yeah.

[ Distraction hits him too, but the conversation turning again snaps him back. ] You mean Blitz?

[victus]

[ So many sentiments stick in Viktor's throat. He wants to ask about whether Jayce misses his work with the council. Whether he's eager to return to the limelight, a shining beacon so many others were drawn to. Or if, better yet, he misses their work instead — the way it used to be. That's unfair, he thinks, swallowing hard against it all and forcing himself to focus on the task ahead with a tighter grip on his crutch.

With a low grunt to acknowledge the sentiment of taking advantage, Viktor unceremoniously begins testing each door they pass to see whether any open without security checks. ] We would have better materials to build him here, [ he says while tapping another steel door. It remains firmly sealed. Viktor hums, moving to the next one. ] And access to a more advanced understanding of the technology. In theory, the Blitz we design here would be an upgrade, yes?

[ One of the doors whirs briefly, but doesn't open. Viktor smirks, proceeding to tamper with the corresponding key pad. ] You are not so tough, hm, [ he murmurs, fiddling away with it. ]

[fatalis]

[ Jayce wishes Viktor would ask, because he's afraid to say it unprompted, like the way things were is a life he doesn't know if he deserves anymore, even if his work with the council is barely days old, it feels like each minute there unravels days of his work with Viktor, ruining every dream they ever had, tying it all up in bureaucracy and strangling it.

Deflating slightly, Jayce frowns, looking at the panels of the wall, the keypads by the doors, anything to not look at Viktor for a second, because he's afraid to see what might be there on his face. ]

Maybe. [ There's better tech here than they had ever dreamed of back home, but Jayce still needs to take it apart, turning it all into its most basic components, hoping to understand it. ] I still want him to... be Blitzcrank. [ Jayce worries his lip for a moment. ] Something we create. Together.

[ Glancing back at Viktor finally, Jayce can't help the smile that settles on his face, the warmth washing over him. ] I could probably take the whole panel off. If we cut the power, the door should open?