Entry tags:

⸻ tdm

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!"

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)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Reflect

Well, he's not dead. That's good. A few minutes ago, Broly was pretty sure he was about to die. He remembers a big light blasting towards him, his energy spent, too weak to get out of the way and then suddenly he just wasn't there anymore. He was here. He was himself again. The robots told him something about an accident, and a mission, and he just wanted to know where Cheelai and Lemo were. He liked those two. They were kind to him. But they're not here.

His father isn't here either. But then his father isn't anywhere anymore. That realization hurts, but he doesn't lose himself to the pain. Not like before.

The robots say they'll find him a shirt, so if he could just wait outside for a moment. Oh right. His battle armour got shredded at some point during the fight. Broly's not sure when; he has trouble remembering what happened after a certain point.

At least the nebula is nice to look at. Calming, even. Maybe that's why he can think about the last clear thing he remembers; Lord Frieza yelling, getting his attention, pointing towards Broly's father, seeing him slump over and knowing his dad was gone and he doesn't even know if it was his fault (it probably was) and something just...snapped. He was barely holding on at that point anyway.

It hurts. He can remember seeing his dad, head bowed, hole smoking right through his heart and knowing he wouldn't be there anymore. It hurts. But not the same way it did before. His dad was...complicated. But he took care of Broly.

After a moment, he blinks in confusion. Something about the nebula has changed. He points out the window, to whoever is near.

"That looks like me."

Sure enough, Broly's face is reflected in the nebula, but where the man's expression is placid, the image he sees is one of absolute rage. You might not even notice he appears to be crying as well.

Imbibe

Food. Food. Food. So much food. Broly doesn't even care if it tastes good, it's food and something he never had much of growing up, and what he did have wasn't very good. He didn't know food was something that could be good until Cheelai and Lemo brought him off Vampa. And there's meat. And it smells delicious. He'll get to everything else first, but right now it's the Red Buffalo Shanks that has his attention. He doesn't bother with utensils, he picks it up with both hands and tears into it. He hadn't realized how starving he was, but that battle used up a lot of his stamina. He's also unaware of the vision it transmits:

Broly sits cross-legged in what looks to be some kind of ship barracks, in the company of two other people; a green-skinned woman with short, boyish white hair sits in a bunk while an orange-skinned man with weathered features and a beanie sits on the floor with Broly. There's a small mountain of rations in front of him that he's attacking with abandon. He picks up a canister with curiosity, tries to drink out of it, but doesn't seem to understand how it works. The orange guy offers to help him, and unscrews the top to let Broly have access to the liquid inside; plain, normal water. But when Broly drinks it, it's a revelation. His companions express disbelief that he's never drank water before, but Broly is too busy guzzling the rest of it down before he declares it good water. He pats the fur wrapped around his waist; it's old, kind of dirty, but precious. He tells them it's Baa's ear, that Baa was a big animal back where Broly came from that he trained and befriended. He liked Baa. The memory brings him a smile. But it didn't last. Broly's father didn't like Baa, that time spent with Baa was time spent not training, so he shot Baa's ear off with a gun. It was never the same after that; Baa was never the same. So Broly left him be, so that his Dad wouldn't hurt him more on Broly's account. But he kept the ear, so that he would always be able to remember that he and Baa were friends. It's the first time he's ever told anyone this story, the first time he's ever had people he wanted to tell the story TO. The green woman remarks this is the first she's ever heard Broly say this much, while the orange guy is shaking his head that Broly could really be so pure and innocent. It's a good memory. Not long from now they'll arrive at Earth, and there are no good memories there.

The conversation continues as the vision fades, but it appears to be turning to the subject of Broly's father. His two new friends don't seem to have a very high opinion of him.

By the time the vision fades, the first plate disappears in seconds, and Broly is turning to grab a second, but at the last minute, he remembers that there are other people here, and he shouldn't be rude.

"Are you...going to eat that?" He asks, pointing towards another plate of the Red Buffalo.

Foreward

They're going to a planet. Okay. It's not like he has anything else to do. Maybe Cheelai and Lemo will find him there. He hopes they're okay. More memories of his fight on Earth have resurfaced and he's fairly certain he beat Lord Frieza up for like. A really long time. Broly didn't mean to do that, and he seems like the kind of person who would be mad about it. He hopes it won't come back on Cheelai and Lemo.

He passes by the ships without interest. He's already on one. Why would he need another? But when he's directed to pick a division, Broly is lost. He picks up and examines the contents of a bag, staring at the devices like a caveman might stare at a modern appliance.

Currently, Broly is carefully disassembling the contents of a field dressing kit from a security division bag because he thinks there might be something to eat in there. He's still kind of hungry.

THEOREMNET, UN; BUHROHLEE

wat ar yu

Edited 2025-11-08 20:58 (UTC)

A complicated question, one whose answer entirely depends on who exactly you're asking. You sent this to the entire network, so I can only assume you're directing this question to... the datapad? The network? Everyone on the ship?

We might be here a while if you mean the latter.

ment the

[The next words are written slowly and with care.] d a t a p a d. devise.

wat is the [another pause and then words typed slowly and with care.] n e t w o r k

[This sounds complicated. This is the sort of thing his dad would have handled. Anything that wasn't training for Broly was a waste of time.]

[ Jiaoqiu freezes, because oh no. How does he explain the datapad and network? He's no technology expert, and it has suddenly become one of those things that seems so obvious and yet so difficult to explain. ]

The datapad you're holding is a communication device. It will allow you to send text messages and video calls to anybody else that also has one. Also, I'm told you can watch extensive media like movies on it, though I haven't yet tried that myself.

The network is what allows you to message other people. Think of it like an invisible web or broadcast that sends signals from one datapad to another.

[Oh. That's nice. Video calls sound like he wouldn't have to try writing on this machine. Talking still doesn't come naturally to Broly after spending so many years alone with his dad, who was also no great conversationalist, but it's easier than trying to slowly tap out words he's somewhat familiar with and long out of practice using. His dad tried to teach him to write, back in the early days, so Broly could try formulating battle plans, strategies for attacking under various circumstances. He gave up quickly and informed Broly that strategy was not necessary for him as long as he followed his commands. Which was fine when his dad was around. Broly thought his dad would always be around. And now he's not.]

ok. v i d e o is good. cant rite good. hao do I do the v i deo.

lik spidurs web. ok. webs r conekted.

[Okay, the spider web analogy is helping. There were big spiders on Vampa and they spun big webs. The image of interconnected webs makes sense to him.]

I can't guide you on which buttons to press, but there are voice commands on these things, so I imagine all you'd have to do is tell it to call whomever you want to speak to.

[ Unfortunately, he cannot yet discern how advanced these datapads are, because trying to use one while blind is... a challenge. With his own phone back home, Jiaoqiu had figured it out pretty fast, because he knew what it could do, and how everything worked. This is entirely different. ]

Here, tell it to 'call Jiaoqiu'. Let's see if it works.

Edited 2025-11-11 23:16 (UTC)

ok. wil tri.

[Of course, first he has to navigate the name "Jiaoqiu", but fortunately the phone seems to understand who he's trying to reach so it only takes Broly three or four minutes for the call to go through. He almost drops it in surprise when he hears it ringing.]

Uh. Hello. Thank you for—[It's still ringing. Jiaoqiu has to pick up first.] Mm.

[ If there's a button to push or swipe to accept the call, Jiaoqiu obviously cannot see it. Instead, he says accept call when it rings, and then hears another voice grunt. He can only assume it has connected.

Thankfully, he remembers how to hold a device to capture a flattering angle. He smiles, as smooth as glass, but not nearly as opaque. ]

I'm afraid I don't know your name, my friend, otherwise I would greet you by it. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?

[Meanwhile, if Jiaoqiu could see it, he's getting a great view of Broly's chin.]

...Broly. Thank you for showing me how it works.

[Someone else has been teaching him how to make it type what he says. Suffice to say he'll have no problems with this in the future.]

BUFF

DEBUFF

Broly | Dragon Ball Super

un: hotpotfan

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un: darknight

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omg this is art

he's struggling so much. XD

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imbibe.

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