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abraxasooc2022-07-20 10:26 am
abraxasmods) wrote in abraxasooc2022-07-20 10:26 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME #8
TEST DRIVE MEME
Welcome to the eighth test drive meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the three different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.
Our Setting pages are full of information on the world of Abraxas, and an overview of the story so far can be found on our Game History page! Anything on that page - including information about the Horizon and the Singularity - can be assumed to be told to newcomers after they arrive, no matter which faction they are received in. For more information on Ambrose and the apprentice mages, Marlo, and Rowan, please see our NPCs page.
You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective questions threads.
◎ Rumor has it that two emissaries - a werewolf and a vampire - visited from Nocwich in early July. With them came some wares distributed to shops throughout each faction. A few sparse items may remain for purchase, such as glowing flowers or fine ales, but much of it has now been sold.
◎ New arrivals in THE FREE CITIES may hear a bit of chatter around Cadens about art, politics, and recent performances involving its sister city, Libertas. It's all standard fare - the kind of topics spoken about over a beer or in line at the market - but there's a small stir in the air.
◎ Lately, locals in SOLVUNN have begun to approach the Summoned with a sort of awe and respect. New arrivals will find themselves treated much the same way and may be asked for advice or given gifts that seem like offerings such as wine, harvest bounties, or some delicious goat cheese. Your character is free to turn these down and should they turn down enough people, they will not be bothered further as no one wishes to offend them.
Arrival
You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.
You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.
There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.
Scenario One: Welcome to Thorne
A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.
If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either.
Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card bearing the image of one of the arcana.
An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.
"One moment," he says, not bothering to look up from the tome. He looks tired. "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. We’ll explain everything in a moment, but for now, please calm down. You’re completely fine."
Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the pages, until he stops on one specific passage, stares at it for a moment, and then sighs with relief:
"Finally!"
Ambrose's expression brightens, relief visible across his features. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.
"Oh, thank heavens," he says, closing the book and approaching you with a sort of worn-out relief. “I was beginning to believe we’d never get it exactly right.”
Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem to visibly relax, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.
"Please, come with me," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle. "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."
One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.
Once inside the castle you're taken to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (those who were previously brought in may have a great deal of information to tell you), or you can wander around and meet the others.
There's also a dining hall stocked with a rotating 24/7 buffet in celebration of the new honored guests. Somehow, your very favorite food is part of the rotation (or at least an attempted recreation of it given the limited technology available to the Thorneans). The town surrounding the castle is all abuzz as well, with most shops and services willing to give free samples of their wares to the new arrivals.
You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).
Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and most of the cells stand empty.
Scenario Two: Welcome to the Free Cities
You find yourself pulled from the water by a pair of strong hands. Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a warm hard floor. As your senses return you realize you're on dull ruddy stone and surrounded by strangers. Men and women in unfamiliar uniforms of brown and red leather stand in a semi-circle around a small pool of water. The very pool you were just pulled from. The water is still now, rimmed in pale gold tiles with odd symbols etched into them. Across it on the far side is a raised pedestal with a card propped on it. The card bears an arcana symbol.
You feel weak. Drained. Any abilities or magical powers you have seem far away and impossible to access. You're in what looks like a cave lit by dozens and dozens of torches set into the wall. There's no furniture or decoration to be seen besides the pool. It's almost uncomfortably warm and there's the sound of rushing wind somewhere in the distance. Flickering shadows obscure the faces of the guards. A robed woman stands off to the side, looking at you anxiously and then to the authoritative woman standing before you. She's grinning, dressed in a fancier uniform than the others. There's a sword at her hip. A guard covers you with a blanket and returns to their place in the semi-circle.
The woman with the sword gives a nod of approval and smiles warmly.
"Sorry about the circumstances."
She gives you a good hard look before standing again.
"Take a minute, catch your breath, you've had quite a shock. Take it nice and easy. I'm Prime Minister Marlo Reiner and you're in The Free Cities. That nice lady over there will explain everything to you and get you settled." A nod to the robed woman off to the side.
Marlo Reiner steps back and the robed mage approaches to help you up.
"Come with me, please." She brings you out of the cave through a corridor that angles upwards until you emerge in what looks like some kind of storage facility. Shelves of wooden boxes and cloth bags line them, unidentifiable parts of what might be machines are tucked into corners and propped against shelving units. "This is one of the Free Cities' outposts," the mage explains as she leads you. "We're honored to have you with us, I'm sure you have many questions but please save them. You need to recover!"
You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military outpost on the outskirts of Cadens city. You're brought to a room in the barracks that's been prepared. Each barracks room is rather sparse and utilitarian. Six simple beds set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You're told the world is in a delicate and dangerous times and you're needed to help. You're important, you're told, and they're very grateful you're here.
You're asked to stay close for the time being, but to make yourself at home. The outpost is more a proper military base than the name implies, with full facilities. The barracks have a communal bathing room at the end of the hall, with curtains that can be pulled around the individual raised round tubs for privacy. There's a mess hall that has food available from sun up till a few hours after sundown. You're even encouraged to make use of the training grounds, if you'd like, with non-lethal training weapons available for use and obstacle courses set up. And the city of Cadens is only a couple of hours away by wagon - though you're asked initially to please be back at the outpost within a few hours of the sun going down.
For your own safety.
Scenario Three: Welcome to Solvunn
The feeling of floating is the first sense that comes to you as the edges of unconsciousness start to ebb. Sunlight filters through the rippling water as you open your eyes, making you squint. Before you have the chance to panic and inhale, firm hands grasp your arms and pull you to the surface of the water. Moments later, soft warmth is wrapped around your shoulders as you're guided on unsteady legs out of a pool of water. You're lowered to the soft grass. Men and women in simple garments with lavish embroidery stand by, waiting with bated breath, glancing seriously at an old man in an ornate robe. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and in the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. His eyes move quickly over the page, and he mumbles idly to himself.
Any strength you may have possessed feels as though it has slipped through your fingers. Any abilities or magical powers you have don't come to the surface no matter how hard you try. You're in a grassy clearing in the midst of a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. A gentle breeze blows through, carrying the scent of flowers and herbs from an ornately decorated altar set off in front of one of the stone doorways. The mage closes his book and steps out of the water, addressing a matronly old woman. Behind her are two younger people, a rough-looking man, and a meek young girl, both of whom are also watching the mage.
“I detect no ill will from the gods, it seems we've been blessed with success.” Those that had gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased.
The old woman smiles and steps forward, offering to take your hands and help you stand. “Any gift the gods give us is one we will happily take. I'm certain you have many questions, and they will all be answered in time. For now, rest and know you will be taken care of.”
She pats the top of your hand and steps away with a serene smile, letting one of the others come forward with some clothes that seem to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, someone approaches to drape a delicate-looking charm depicting a long-horned creature with large wings on a thin chain over your neck. Ask around later, and you may find that it is a symbol of Vielehauffe, the God of the Herd.
The rough-looking man from before steps forward once you're decent and motions with his head outside of the stone circle. His speech is informal, his consonants harsh.
“Hold your horses, I can see all those questions coming about! Rowan March, at your service. I'm one of the council members of Solvunn. There's a lot to discuss, but it's best talked about over a hot meal.” He leads you to a horse-drawn carriage and helps you up into the back. He talks the entire ride to the settlement.
You find out you are in the Primary Settlement, the first of three that make up Solvunn's great territory. The settlement is situated between two lakes and is humming with life. You're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. Rowan explains that the living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be, that local families would also be happy to host you in their home. That there are others like you who have also taken up residence within the three settlements. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world that are happy to see it fall to ruin with their meddling.
You're important. The gods have graced them with your presence. They're delighted you're here. Welcome to Solvunn.
Everything you need has been provided in this humble apartment, and if it hasn't, there are shops that line the streets and a marketplace in the center of town. Owners of some establishments or stalls are more than happy to give out samples or barter with your time for their goods. Babysitting can be a very lucrative business. You're told of the other settlements, that they'd like you to stay here for now, but if you can find a family to host you, the secondary and tertiary settlements are best to get to with an escort.
There are tales of travelers visiting the secondary settlement without invitation disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective, young traveler.
You’ll find that there are more than enough activities to throw yourself into to better settle into your new life in Solvunn. Work is done in the first part of the day so that families can spend the rest of it together in leisure and work on their crafts - whatever those may be. For those children who are not of school age, they need nannies or storytellers, and there’s always a gaggle of them running about unsupervised. Families with livestock can always take a spare hand, especially since farms are so spread out, they have a tendency to wander. Whatever skills you may possess can always be of use to the community or to honor the gods.
If any of these options are no good for your lifestyle, the main roads between settlements can always use a bit of monster clean-up… just make sure you don’t go alone.
How many slots are open?
Please check the Taken page for how many player, franchise, and canon slots are available. Activity check will be processed before applications open, so the count may change between now and then. Existing players can apply for a second character without restriction.
How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Which faction your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their personal morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.
Can I try out more than one scenario?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.
What happens if my character refuses to comply with the NPCs?
They will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and the faction leaders will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, they will be warned once that everyone is willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight they will make good on that promise.
My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the cities, murdering the NPCs, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other NPCs would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude and intervention from various NPC guards, and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Abraxans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.
I want to wildcard a prompt or use one of the prompts from an earlier TDM that isn't on this one (eg. the library), can I do that?
Yes, in terms of the settings. As Thorne is no longer imprisoning any newcomers, that option is no longer applicable.
Is the power loss for characters permanent?
No, but it does take a week or so for their powers to be back in full, and certain powers (determined on a case-by-case basis) may require nerfs. If your character has world-breaking powers, please discuss with the mods what modifications may be necessary.
Can my character leave the bounds of the faction?
In Thorne, characters can leave the castle but not the city. In Cadens, they can take a trip from the outpost to the city. In Solvunn, they can explore the entirety of the Primary Settlement.
Can my character eventually change factions?
Yes. While the faction borders are currently closed, there will opportunities in the future for characters to relocate. For the time being, they are stuck where they are.
How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will determine where your character initially lives as well as the bias of the information they receive from NPCs (although other PCs can and most likely will give it to them a bit more straight). This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.
Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in every scenario can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.
Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?
No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.
What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).
Can my character go to the Horizon?
First time visitors to the Horizon must be taken there by other characters, through either shared meditation or a physical journey to the Singularity, and all first-timers experience memory loss. For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon.
What about making use of the network?
Much like Horizon they would need to be introduced to it by another PC, as no NPCs would be aware of the network or be able to access it. Because of this we would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.
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no subject
"Jo!" The surprise he lobs back at her is simply out of reflex as Sam's long, long legs carry him comically in her direction. They're closing the distance between them, but once those thirteen milliseconds pass, every part of Sam screeches to a halt, from body to mind.
"Wait. Jo?!" The stunned tone of his voice is nothing compared to the confusion on his face as he stands awkwardly splayed, arms out, gaping at a ghost through the billowing dust he's kicked up. Not just him, though.
About thirteen milliseconds after the first thirteen milliseconds here comes the damn chicken... right at Sam's head!! He flails upward, making a choked noise of annoyance, arms doing all they can to fend off that angry bird.
"Hold on," Sam begs, then, passing by Jo with a tight smile and his arms well, well outreached with the flailing chicken clucking unhappily at the end of them. And now he will proceed to turn around to one of the cardinal points, take a few steps, turn around to another, takes a few more step, all while he tries to decide where best to properly deposit an angry chicken.
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One second, she's thinking about how good it is to see him—how it will be for Dean to see him—and the next, she's reminded again. Of that one thing, she tries hard not to think about. Can't think about it again, no matter how deep she buries it in sword lessons and body retrieval, getting to go hunting and the Roadhouse. That she's dead. (That the Roadhouse is, too.)
He stops with that question, that confused remembering, body akimbo like it hasn't gotten the stop notice to slam back Sam's brain gave out, momentum still caught up in the too much of him, and Jo slows with the awkward reticence of not wanting to do this again, wanting it to go back to the second before. Her skin and her bones are at a new disjoint with each other. She never has to deal with this. Dean is the only person who might bring it up, and he doesn't, either.
The kamikaze chicken does not care about either side of the problem, launching itself at Sam's head, and Jo, wincing, has to appreciate the moxy of anything that small jumping that high to reach the height of Sam Winchester's head. It's a distraction, even with heavy shackles, watching Sam finally catch the thing, but he's looking at her again.
Sam tells her to wait, and small, smaller than she ever likes the feeling, Jo watches him flounder with the outstretched chicken, and the words are coming before she even vets them for her tongue. Habit even against the sudden weight subduing her tone. "There's nothing like a chicken pen that I've seen here before. You might have to settle for one of the empty crates and telling someone you left it there."
no subject
"Oh, here," he says, descending upon what looks to be a small crate, maybe even a milk square fashioned from wood. It seems nearly exactly for the purposes of containing a chicken and as Sam stuffs the flapping creature under it up-ended, he decides that it's going to be that whether it's meant that way or not.
And then he's turning back on Jo, hands wiping at the thighs of that provided uniform, scrubbing in the way a person does when they've just choked some stranger's chicken. He feels like a fool in it, but it's not the first costume he's donned in pursuit of answers (and it certainly beats being naked).
"What are you doing here?" He's coming closer now and his hands have moved to clasp together, tentative and nervous, frankly. He doesn't have any holy water, he knows what it takes to get out of Purgatory, and last he checked escorts back from the Great Beyond weren't cheap. You have to trust, he tries to tell himself, and it's really only that she laughed at him that he's mostly convinced at all it's Jo and not some copy.
"This isn't another shitty pitch for so-called heaven, is it?" And, perhaps on asking it, the elephant in the room is obvious: Why are you alive? Or why am I dead?
no subject
"No, it's more a shitty 'you're special, so we kidnapped you to fight our war for us' kind of hell, where I got my gold-stamped invitation long before you did," Jo retorts all too easily, the raw edge of brittleness making her words a little too sharp when she's trying to make herself ready. But there's no ready-to-be. The last conversation touching this was Dean telling her it happened. Not her having to — handle? — someone else. Sam Winchester else. Realizing it.
It's edginess she doesn't trust. The uncertain awkwardness that's taken any ease Sam'd had, even while being chased by a chicken. Like he's waiting to see if she'll jump, and she'd rather not wait for him to. (Or for whatever happens on a mid-war military base when two of the Summoned seem to be taking matters into their own hands against each other.)
"I'm me." Beat. "Not dead. Still me." It's a weirdly clinical fact put that way.
She can't tell how she feels about that, but she shoves past it with more words.
"I've got this if you want it," Jo said, one hand-held show it was open, and the other telegraphed slow to pull the silver dagger out of the back of her belt. No sword today; Ciri'd be disappointed, but she's not at daily. "I probably wouldn't trust me at this point either, but it's the only option I've got that isn't just saying, 'Hey, trust me because I said so.'"
Even as she says and knows it, she also wants that not to be true. She wants to be herself still. Be seen as herself. The way Dean manages most of the time, all of the time if she's counting when he knows she's looking at him, and not the times she catches him with a look like he's making sure she isn't a twist of the light about to vanish before he can clear it off his face again. She wants Sam to know her, too. Even if it would contradict all they both know about what monsters can do with faces.
no subject
"Hey, we're good," he says, because this is Jo. Undeniably. In so many ways, Sam distrusts, but this isn't one of them. The way he sees her reading him and the way she doesn't falter, even blink at making the offering doesn't allow for doubt. He'll later think maybe he's stupid and tired for letting a fool's hope drive him like this (again), but even Sam Winchester can't be morose a hundred percent of the time (no matter how hard he tries).
"Giving up the advantage would be stupid, anyway," Sam adds, smiling ruefully, laughing. "And I know you're not that." Perish the idea of making that mistake. Sam isn't stupid either; she wouldn't be forfeiting the advantage in any case.
It's not so customary, but— he holds open his arms and he really can't hold back the burbling of sudden wonder as he marvels, "It's really you. I'm just—" Relieved? It feels right but he can't say it. "–really glad to see a familiar face."
no subject
He chooses a softer phrase. But it means the same thing.
"You'd be right," Jo quips, using both hands to secure the dagger back in the right place against her back on her belt. Two crossed there currently. She'd still have had the second and a good number of other things slotted away into spots across herself. She was willing to bleed to prove herself—any hunter worth their salt was—but she wasn't willing to go down in the dirt to prove it.
Once it's done, her eyes snag a little uncertainly on Sam's wide open hands, uncertain quite which way that's going, effusive or a vague warning of. Jo keeps her chin up, and her shoulders settle straight. "You'll find a few more familiar ones in Caden's, too. Dean, Cas, this girl, Claire, seems to be from further into your future if Dean's got it right."
Shock and focus waning a second, she catches up with what she hasn't done, and even though she's looking at Sam, she focuses hard on Dean, and the words will appear near wherever he is, whatever he's doing. It won't matter. It's Sam. It's all that will matter the second it appears. Everything else will go with those few words. No bullshit, no extra. Only:
ℍ𝕖'𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖.
𝕊𝕒𝕞'𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖.
𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕒𝕣𝕕.
no subject
"I have so many questions," Sam says, vastly understating his point. Every question spawns another question, every answer spawns five more follow-ups. And that's not even addressing– the rest. How they got there, why they're there, who brought them there, and what they're needed for. Why this place, why this atmosphere? It can't hardly be real and yet possesses a quality of being Sam can't quite deny.
"The usual ones apply, but I think I need to know, is everyone safe here?" A tentative question, one that's meant to probe Jo's honest streak for the hard answers Sam knows will be held back otherwise. He mostly means how is everyone? but he can't been seen asking directly, can he? Not when it's clear these circumstances are less than ideal. Beyond that, he also means is everyone getting along? because they certainly have their fair share of issues with that.
"And what's this?" he asks, gesturing to Jo, turning his body and his head to try to re-align his view. He can see on her wrist — the inside left from where he's standing — the gentle hint of letters, rimmed red just so in its healing state.
E.H. The meaning isn't lost on him and he wants to ask is she here, too? but doesn't. It's more data for his addled mind, but not the kind you go asking after at a friend's expense. All the answers will come with time (or they won't, which Sam concedes could be fine, too, under the right circumstances).
no subject
She didn't wear much that showed them off, and she hadn't had to deal with anyone asking her about them. Only two could have guessed—three now, and Sam just being goddamn observant. In his first five minutes, even. What the hell was she even supposed to do with that?
There's an irritable shift to her body because she doesn't want to explain. Because Sam already knows how her mother died (why, for and because of who) if he knows she should be dead and not standing here, talking to him. She forces out more words, with a look away at anything else. "Everyone's fine."
Except looking away takes that unexpected grave step and shoves it into another shape.
A shape she was more than willing to let that venom seep into with some true a vengeance.
Looking back at him,
"If fine is kidnapped and stuck and dealing with these people manipulating them." Jo shrugs. "They are all in one piece—and one place—but it's fuckall weird making sure it stays like that sometimes when almost no one else in this place is going to give you the straight story on anything, especially not what they expect of you or how they'll punish someone else for you not doing it."
no subject
He swallows and lets her idle, lets the foot off the gas a little. He's processing, too, trying to put together so many pieces scattered throughout his brain. The program had been pitched but Sam hadn't bought any of the positive reinforcement; it had all reeked of fear behind tight, wide smiles. Whatever's happening here, Sam can tell it's no good. Initially, he's relieve Jo sees it, too. How that realization will hit later he can't say.
"How do they punish people?" At the question, blunt, Sam finds himself becoming that much more stoic and reserved. He hates the idea of suffering — most people do — but there is a particularly scarred over part of his heart that aches every time he considers the affect of someone's agency and safety being forfeit for the sake of someone else's war.
no subject
Or she had two mistakes. Or she didn't. Or it was fine.
It didn't matter. Jo couldn't change them now.
Jo tries to calm the grit of her backmost teeth and lower the tension in her tone. "The kind where you're given instructions to do something, blindly, like a good little soldier, and then if you don't, it ends up that doing it meant someone else's life or death."
"The kind where what happens next is an entire city gets bombed in retribution, and then fields get burned after that." One hand gestures one way and then another on the last line. A little tense, but another step of trying to thaw, even though moving them feels even more like she can't not pay attention to the faint white now either.
no subject
"That's somehow suspiciously specific and still incredibly vague," he notes, gently. "I was able to find out there's a government in place as well as some universities so I don't doubt the specifics are out there. I just don't understand why us."
As far as Sam's concerned, none of them seem like the type to get involved in political intrigue. War, yes. But even then, the Winchesters aren't front lines types. Harvelles just the same. They're specialists and maybe that's what they're looking for when they're bringing them here, but if that's the case then they've certainly buried the lede on that.
It's more than enough to threaten to draw Sam's attention away altogether, but he reels in the urge and says, "Tell me more about what you've been doing here. And how I can help."
no subject
Jo settles for giving Dean his first conversation, maybe a day,
but she's not going to be anywhere near complicit in a month.
"There's a whole lot that goes into how and where we are with it all." Jo tightened and loosened the hold of her hands with her crossed arms. Just enough to give her something to move without entirely moving, nothing that shifts her posture. "We're out this place called Cadens. Mag Inn inside the city, a version of the Roadhouse—" Yeah, if she says it without pausing, it doesn't help she glance to a side for it. "—in the Horizon, which is a whole other crazy trip you're in for."
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For now, he's taking note of the rest because that's immediate. A version of the Roadhouse feels right — he can practically picture the place plopped down in this landscape – and of course they would gather together, huddled like pups against this indescribable danger.
(Vaguely, Sam wonders if his return heralds him the runt; amusing as it is being the largest of them all, he certainly feels the smallest most days, not to mention the one so carefully picked around, like he might never survive a night without worry.)
"The Horizon?" He ponders that, knowing Jo's comment is meant as both a warning and a dismissal. Still, he presses. "It's a barrier between two worlds, I take it?" Any rudimentary definition wouldn't have been worth note.
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Why ever would you want your precious stolen weapons to band together with each other and against you and create a massive force that couldn't be stopped rather than one you could attempt to manipulate into control? It's fuckall transparent, but she still can't work out two dozen and more growing questions related to it. And them. And this place. Always more questions forming than answers to earlier ones coming.
"It's this weird place The Summoned can go when they meditate." Yeah, Sam, it gets a half roll of her eyes; it's crazy sounding, even now, four months into using it; she laughed at Dean saying he meditated for it that first time, too. "People have these domains, sometimes picked and sometimes constructed by their subconscious."
Beat. "And sometimes it all goes fucking bonkers and fucks all of it up, too."
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(Strangely enough, he thinks the voice suggesting he's fucked sounds suspiciously like Lucifer's.)
"That makes sense if everything is controlled from one source of power," he reasons, mostly because he doesn't want to probe for more details to haunt him between now and his inevitable first foray into The Horizon. He could ask plenty and he's sure Jo would kindly oblige, but sometimes ignorance truly is bliss (and if anyone would know the benefits of practiced ignorance, it's Sam).
He clasps his arms across his broad chest, hunched some as he's occasionally wont to do in the presence of those shorter than him. Brow furrowed (as he's also wont to do), Sam asks, "You and Dean have been... meditating together?"
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"Not in the same room—" Sounds even stupider as a denial coming out of her mouth. Like that matters much when it's followed up with: "But the Roadhouse is in there and The Bunker, so we're usually in the same place while in there." Beat. "Are you from after the time you two got the Bunker? I got a tour, but I haven't marked down that timeline yet."
That's half a lie, but she's going with sunshine, logic, and bullshit in a braid at this point. It also skips two of the more important and wobbly details. One: that they actually share the domain of the Roadhouse; their domains had merged. Or more hers had. Because—two—Dean brought the Roadhouse into the Horizon months before ren faire reject kidnap land brought her here.
Which is still somehow sensitive. Like being given a bedroom in the Bunker.
Not something that falls out as sunshine, logic, or bullshit.
Those three facts. They're all too real to go in them.
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"Nice dodge," he points out without any real malice. It's hard enough to know what to feel seeing Jo again, but Sam knows for sure that it's not bad. (Concerning, perhaps. Definitely bizarre. Certainly not bad.)
"We're in the bunker, yeah. Finally, our own rooms," he bemoans toothlessly. And then Sam huffs, hand running through his hair. "Strange choice, don't you think? Maybe not so much for us," he says because it's really all they have, "but does anyone know how those places are made? Magic, sure, but doesn't anyone worry about what might be looking around their heads to do it?"
Call him suspicious and paranoid, but Sam thinks he has plenty of precedence to wonder. It feels like grounds for worry since it's become clear to him this is a shared landscape and perhaps some things might not be so easily hidden.
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"It has to do with this Singularity Rock at the center of it somehow, but no one seems quite to know why or how." There's a cock of her head in the straightforward additional importance. "Which is, also, what's behind the war going on between the two factions, which, make no mistake, is going on even if they aren't saying they're in a full-out war."
A whole city, and the more significant part of its population, was not a warning shot.
"And, yeah, the horizon is definitely fucking around in our heads without asking. There was a huge mess with the last month that you can be glad you missed entirely." Like Jo missing the nightmare, dreams, and memories swapping nonsense. Though all of those might have been easier than living through her death twice in less than hours.
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"At least it's not unfamiliar," he adds with a grin and a shrug. Despite all the circumstances they'd faced in their lives — particularly when dealing in angels and demons and gods — there's no shortage of oddities to make even the more bizarre circumstances feel just like another Thursday.
"I'm glad you're the one who found me first." The practical ease-in without too many emotions has been a godsend. The only person who might have given the news more straight would have been Bobby. Still, Sam puts a hand on Jo's shoulder, grateful despite saying, "Just don't tell Dean I said so."