TEST DRIVE MEME #17

[abraxasmods]

Test Drive Meme

Important Links

Setting ⦁ Game History ⦁ NPCs ⦁ Arcana ⦁ FAQ

Welcome to the 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 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. You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective question threads.

The TDM is forward-dated to when the summonings occur in-game (when applications are accepted), at the start of April.

While the world is undergoing some tumultuous weather, newly arrived characters will be assured that everything is being taken care of and cautioned to shelter indoors where possible.

Summoning

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 getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying the 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. It's hard to make out any individual objects as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

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 - still unclothed.

Arrival

You'll find yourself summoned to one of the following three major territories: the extravagant and magical Kingdom of Thorne, the bustling and advanced Free Cities, or the tightknit and faith-driven rural community of the Solvunn Commune.

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. After a week or so, your abilities will return.

When you gather your bearings at last, you look up into a series of unfamiliar faces...and equally unfamiliar surroundings.

Go to scenario

Kingdom of Thorne ⦁ The Free Cities ⦁ Solvunn Commune

Welcome to Thorne

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 another mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. The man 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 nods, satisfied. "Excellent." He motions for one of the young apprentice mages over. "Settle our guest in, please. I don't have all day."

The apprentice hurries forward with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals. With a wave of their hand, the clothes reshape to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, the apprentice leads you into the hallways of Castle Thorne, prattling on about the kingdom, names of royals and nobles, and, of course, the reason why you're here: 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.

◎ Surroundings

Castle Thorne is where not only royals and members of the court reside but includes the surrounding city itself. Now in spring, the weather is cool and marked by howling windstorms. In the distance, snow continues to cover the mountain peaks. Spring flowers are beginning to bloom in the gardens. The castle is enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature.

As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• Windstorms batter the walls outside. The city of Castle Thorne is largely safe, but debris, fallen trees, and toppled wagons are still a danger. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• The North Wing, devoted to housing the Summoned, is tightly guarded against outsiders. As one of the Summoned, you're free to come and go. The guards aren't keeping anyone prisoner. They're there to protect you, and they take their jobs seriously.


• Apprentices, kitchen staff, guards - everyone seems to be bustling. There's some buzz about the arrival of Admiral Rudolph Sidwell, the Queen's uncle. While Rudolph is temporarily staying in Nott, he can occasionally be seen in the castle halls when he visits Castle Thorne.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, Castle Thorne and its surrounding city have much for you to indulge in.

Sorting Tomes
A few apprentices out on errands have grown trapped behind some fallen debris, leaving the library short of helping hands. Volunteers are desperately needed to help sort and shelve the books, which are beginning to pile up. Fortunately, Thorne's magical shelving system means the shelves will immediately let you know if a book has been placed incorrectly. Unfortunately, the way this works is that the book will expel itself back out and fall to the floor. Watch your head!

Serene Steeds
Due to the heavy storms, Thorne's prized horses are growing nervous in their stables. To help soothe them, apprentice mages have asked you to cast a calming spell on each horse. The spell relies on Academic Magic. While the spell only requires saying a few words correctly, a lack of concentration can result in some unexpected memories or feelings surfacing, inducing strong emotions. You might vividly recall a tumultuous moment in your life or find yourself reflecting on who you are, where you came from, and where you might go next.

Painting Session
You're encouraged to explore Thorne's proud naval history in Borrel at its Maritime Fair. Because of the storms, it's being held indoors within heavily strengthened walls. Here, you can join a paint and cider session where you can follow a guided instructor to paint a displayed model of Thorne's famous naval warships. To finish your masterpiece, decorate the frame with Borrel's famous sea glass. The paints and brushes are enchanted to help you along, but it requires a little concentration. Growing frustrated with your progress might cause some splatters or turn the colors muddy. Not to worry! You can always start again with a fresh canvas.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to rest, you're shown 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).

As an important figure to the kingdom, you can't move out of the city of Castle Thorne without permission or take any extended trips. If you're feeling restless, though, day trips to Nott or Borrel via portal are allowed, or you can visit Nocwich. Don't try to sneak out - someone will bring you back. Besides, Castle Thorne gives you everything you need: fine clothes, great food and wine, massive libraries, and all the magic and knowledge you could want. Isn't that plenty? You won't be given money as you're provided for, so if you want to do some personal spending later, you'll have to find a job in the city or you can earn some pocket money by doing chores around the Castle.

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Welcome to the Free Cities

Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a hard floor of dull ruddy stone. 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 is a raised pedestal with a card bearing an Arcana symbol.

A guard covers you with a simple robe and returns to their place in the semi-circle. Before you stands another woman, dressed in a more elaborate and decorated uniform than the others. A sword rests at her hip. She carries an air of authority as she approaches you with a nod and a warm smile. "Sorry about the circumstances. Take a minute, catch your breath. 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 robed mage off to the side approaches to help you up. 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. You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military base on the outskirts of the major city of Cadens. You're told the world is in delicate and dangerous times, and you're needed to help. You're important and they're very grateful you're here.

◎ Surroundings

While you're currently at the outpost just outside of the city proper, Cadens on the whole is a large bustling city. The climate is hot and dry, though the sandstorm has obscured the sun, lowering the typical spring temperatures. At night, temperatures will drop further. Look to the west and you'll see a long stretch of desert wasteland. This is the infamous Badlands. The soldiers don't recommend going out there unprepared - you're likely to face a slow death to the elements or be eaten. Reaching Cadens is possible by wagon, a trip of about 2 hours each way. You're asked to return by sundown for your safety... but no one will chase after you if you don't.

You'll be given a military style uniform with your Arcana stitched on it where a formal rank would normally be. As you walk or look around, you take in some of what's going on around you:

• Sandstorms assail the cites, especially in Cadens. The dust is thick and choking, and visibility is low. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• In the Cadens barracks, soldiers are hard at work fortifying its walls and preparing for further changes in weather. Shops and merchant stalls that populate Cadens' outdoor markets are absent. With the storms going on, the city streets are eerily empty except for vagrants and those who don't have shelter to retreat to.


• City guards are present around an inn and tavern at the heart of Cadens - The Sarstina - where the Summoned like you are often found. They're here for your protection, not to prevent you from moving freely.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the land, the barracks and Cadens have much for you to indulge in.

Pimp My Ride
Innovation is the way of the Free Cities, and showing it off is just as important. Every few years, wagon enthusiasts will display their customized New Magic-powered wagons in the Wagon Parade. Although this usually takes place in the streets of Cadens, this month's storm has forced the parade indoors into the Fortune Arena, the oldest horse arena in the city. They'll need help boarding up windows and doorways so that the this year's amazing entries aren't harmed. As with any event, pop-up merchants appear along the parade line selling food, drink, and a variety of commemorative tokens.

Masking Up
Dust storms are not unheard of in the desert, but the reduced air quality is still a concern. In response, the government is distribuing breathing masks and is asking for volunteers who are willing to brave current conditions to hand them out. Standard government-issued designs are free, but some wealthy citizens have elected for a more refined design while the cautious opt for total coverage. You'll be given your own mask (in the design of your choice), but the winds will still be a force to contend with. Be sure to travel with a partner for safety.

New Wave, New Age
New Magic is how the Free Cities diverges from reliance on more traditional magic. With New Magic, the Arcana plays a much more limited role. However, New Age thinkers of Libertas have risen with the arrival of the Summoned. They stress that to move to the future, you cannot forget your past. To encourage this reconnection with one's roots, a group of New Age practitioners have set up a table at the Cadens Library. You can take part in designing your own tarot card on pieces of thin metal. The goal is to create a design that speaks to you the most: find inspiration from your connections to the world, from home, or through an important symbol in your life. Special pens will easily burn and engrave any marks you make, so craft carefully.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready to turn in, the barracks are waiting for you. They 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. Each barracks room is rather sparse. Six simple beds are set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You can greet your roommates here, most of whom will be new arrivals, as well.

If you plan on making use of your assigned quarters, you'll have your basic needs met: uniforms, a roof, bland food from the mess hall, and access to the training grounds. You won't be paid unless you formally enlist with the army. The longer you take advantage of the barracks, the greater the pressure to enlist. Some soldiers will start to see you as a freeloader if you refuse to join them yet continue to use their resources. If you're set on not enlisting, you'll eventually have to strike out on your own. The government won't provide for you and handouts are rare. You'll have to work to earn every copper and loaf of bread. Whether that's honest work is up to you, but you will want to start making money. Nearly everything in the Free Cities has a price - including the portal to Aquila. Luckily, the portal to Libertas is free if you want to stretch your legs.

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Welcome to Solvunn

You're in a grassy clearing amid a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. An elderly mage stands before an ornate altar. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. "I detect no ill will from the gods," he says. "It seems we've been blessed with success."

Those who gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased. One offers you some clothes of leather and knitted wool that seem to fit you perfectly. A rough-looking man steps forward once you're dressed 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 center of the Primary Settlement. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world who 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.

◎ Surroundings

The Primary Settlement is full of greenery, blessed with the fresh ocean breeze. With spring on the way, the winds remain somewhat chilly and the rains are heavy - not to mention the small twisters forming across the plains and on the ocean. Shops, farms, and homes around you are all modest and unassuming. You get the sense that the people here prefer to blend in with their neighbors than stand out.

As you walk or look around, you'll be greeted warmly, even eagerly...though there's an edge of awestruck nervousness to some. Though the settlement is often quiet and calm, there's still plenty to take in:

• Small twisters assail the settlements. While it isn't strong enough to lift homes or large structures, important shrines, and small animals are still in danger. Try not to go outside unless you have to! Across the sky, lightning surges horizontally, never touching the ground.


• Shops and stalls have closed due to conditions. The strong community means in Solvunn everyone has chosen to pitch in to help each other out, delivering meals when there's a break in the storms, finding lost pets, repairing broken gates, and exchanging essential goods.


• Fishing in the Tertiary Settlement has also ground to a halt. Isar Hart, who sits on the Council, can be seen frequently in the Primary Settlement to gather much-needed supplies for the residents.

◎ Exploring

Despite the troubles that plague the commune, the commune and its settlements have much for you to indulge in.

Shrine Offerings
As a new arrival, you'll be encouraged to perform your first offering. Due to the turbulent weather, Solvunn believes offerings in the tradition of High Magic might quell the Gods' fury. Create a bundle using a combination of fruit, wine, flowers, or an animal you've hunted. It must be picked and put together by your own hand. Once you're ready, you can approach any shrine belonging to a God that speaks to you: is it Cadaevos, who purifies the community and soul? Endrborrin, who brings forth spring and change? Vagn, who oversees one's journey in death? It's a good idea to travel with a partner. While the twisters aren't deadly, they can be dangerous if you're not careful. Perhaps, along the way, you can talk about what the concept of gods and blessings mean to you.

Goatnado
Due to the heavy rains, Solvunn's fine tradition of goat racing has been put on hold so the goats can be kept safe inside their pens. Of course, the goats prefer their free-range lifestyle and are prone to escaping. Help find missing goats or tend to the ones who have been returned to their pens. It may not be as simple as following the sound of bleating and tying them up; reports of small twisters picking up goats and other livestock have been made, sending them far away from their pens and farms and even into the more dangerous wilds or inconveniently on buildings and houses. You'll need to team up and track them down before they can cause any property damage or get hurt themselves.

The Shrieking of the Weeds
Goats and livestock aren't the only victims of the sudden winds. Farmlands and crops also face the brunt of destruction. The twisters travel quickly across Solvunn's low and flat landscape, and the freshly tilled earth is even easier to disturb. As a result, Shrieking Weeds, a staple garden guardian in Solvunn, are being ripped from the ground and sent in whirling, noisy tempests that keep everyone up all night and day. The weeds must be retrieved and will only quiet when planted back into the ground. Luckily, you can easily follow their discordant cries to find them.

Nocwich
Nocwich, which is shrouded in eternal darkness and is home to the werewolves and the vampires, is, unfortunately, CLOSED due to recent events.

◎ Settling In

When you're ready for your bed, you're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. The living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be: the local families would also be happy to host you in their home. In return, you'll be expected to contribute to their household, taking upon daily chores and repairs. While money has its uses, many establishments and craftsmen are happy to barter with your time or skill for their goods. You'll find your willingness to trade and your friendliness with the natives more valuable than gold.

Goat-drawn wagons can help you get to the other settlements, but you're encouraged to remain in the Primary Settlement. If you insist, though, no one will stop you from leaving. Just be sure you have an invitation to the Secondary Settlement. There are tales of uninvited travelers to the Secondary Settlement disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective.

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Questions & Answers

If after reading these you're still unsure about anything, or your question wasn't covered, please feel free to hit up our Questions thread below!

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 territory your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.

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 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 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 into 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.

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 territory?

No, they must remain within the territory except when visiting Nocwich. Review the Travel section on each territory's Setting page for where characters can go within their borders.

Can my character eventually change territories?

Yes, but tensions between the major territories are at an all-time high. Doing so is possible, but will require some plotting with the mods once you're in-game!

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). It will also affect your character's day-to-day life and development. Characters who seek technological advancements or combat will find more of it in the Free Cities. Those interested in court politics, the Singularity, and magic will have the most access in Thorne. Anyone who wishes to uncover the secrets of the Gods and other mysteries will best do so in Solvunn.

This is not to say characters are locked out of other scenarios completely. With effort and the help of friends, anything is possible! Don't get too anxious about your choice. Every character in each scenario can work their way towards many individual goals. Additionally, once in-game, the Horizon, Nocwich, and certain events will let characters make easy cross-border CR.

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. You'll still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?

Your Arcana sign won't have an immediate impact on your character beyond them seeing it on themselves or being told what it is by the locals. You're welcome to disregard those aspects in your prompts or try out different signs.

Can my character go to the Horizon?

For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon. If you're interested in threading with characters outside your borders on the TDM, you can utilize the Nocwich prompt which will allow all characters to meet in person regardless of arrival scenario. In situations where Nocwich is closed, you can put up prompts for multiple scenarios, though only the one you choose in the application can become canon.

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. We would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.

Can I try out more than one arrival scenario on the same TDM?

Yes, although only threads taking place in the arrival scenario you formally choose upon applying can count as canon. However, you're welcome to try out as many as you like on the TDM.

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Comments

[carmesi]

Touch doesn't have to be a point of comfort for people, and Wanda certainly understands that it isn't for the majority. He breaks away from her hand, and she brings it instead to settle over her bicep, arms crossed.

The new ones will come to understand magic one way or the other, and some days Wanda is more keen to be a teacher. Other days, the rupture of her cold introverted ways keeps her quiet and undeterred by equally cold receptions, or wary suppositions about herself and this place.

They'll all come together, in the end.

An eyebrow raises at having dealt with worse, but that is par on the course with those who have been unlucky enough to be summoned.

"I'll go with." It might as well just be on the way. "Are you looking to go to a specific shrine? There are many gods here to make an offering to."

[revise]

He could have made it alone. This wouldn't be the first time Wake's gone moving through the dark in unlikely, shit weather pursuing ground rendered thematically weird by powers beyond. But it settles something in him that she agrees.

(And frustrates something in him that isn't him that would rather she didn't. More on that later.)

For now, it feels like a good sign. Not quite an omen, but close. 'Meet a witch on the road in the dead of night' may not be everyone's idea of good news, but it has narrative precedent. You meet all sorts of catalysts at crossroads. He might be getting somewhere with this after all.

"I'm looking for Adlewyrd's."

Masked followers all in red. Dressed or painted with it. That had rung a bell. Felt true.

[carmesi]

Wanda doesn't expect to have to tell him to follow her as soon as she starts making her way down the path she had once settled on going down. Adlewyrd's shrine is not too far off the premises of the Primary Settlement, as most shrines are these days, but it's far away enough to where the houses are no longer found within its vicinity. Strength in numbers, in community, and all that.

"Adlewyrd is prayed to when the locals want for peace in the middle of a conflict."

Is it likely he got information on the locals about it? Regardless, it's fascinating to her how quickly some take to it all.

"You aren't weirded out by the idea of old gods and shrines?"

[revise]

As expected, Wake falls in step without prompting. He trails by a just a half pace and, once clear on the direction they're moving in, his attention shifts from her to searching out into the swaying dark that waits ahead of them. Trees bend to the wind there. The rain comes hard enough that the ground should squish under their feet and the grasses have buckled. These things may not touch them, but they make for strange shapes in the night.

'Weirded out,' she says. That's funny.

She's a Summoned like he is, Wake concludes more or less at the same time he recognizes that, Oh right. He's acting like a complete lunatic.

"A little." A lot. But what else is new? "But no, not really. You wash up in a place you shouldn't be, and it kind of makes sense. It'd be weirder if everything was normal."

He lets himself look at her instead of the shadows that make up the treeline.

"I take it you're not new here."

[carmesi]

Level-headed people are a blessing in disguise. It's easy to just want to burst at the seams and not understanding what this place is and what it all means, and it's even less easy to keep a calm disposition (or as calm as can be) in the face of all this.

Which is quite a lot, all things considered.

"It tends to make others scared," she starts answering his question, her accent rolling in with her words, between her syllables, making it clear that there is a difference between him and her—between the American and the Sokovian, "when I tell them how long I've been here for."

So, she's making it a point to not outright say it, not without a warning or giving the other a chance to brace themselves. Motioning to the path, Wanda veers them off away from it, now, down towards a dale in the topography of the settlement.

"If you're used to computers and phones and the internet, you'll have a harder time getting used to things. But it's not so bad if you come in with an open mind."

[revise]

An open mind, she says. Privately (what a joke; we're all reading this), Wake thinks he could do with having it a little more closed.

"I can take it. How long?"

They make their way down and the weather bends away from them, the lantern bobbing across the dark like a driver's helmet light passing through deep water. Does the waterskin he has slung across his shoulder start to feel heavier when they turn off the path in the direction of that valley, or is it just his imagination? Probably the second one. Let's see how long that lasts.

[carmesi]

It may feel heavier once he hears her answer, the slow realization that maybe this isn't quite as temporary as one would hope and wish for.

"A little over two years."

But there is ultimately no getting around it. He will come to learn, in time, that there are others who have been here even longer than herself, and that much feels like it's barely scratching the surface.

(In other ways, it could be a good thing, too. People who have been here a long time would imply having information easily accessible, a support network, too, perhaps—)

"I'm Wanda. And watch your step, there's a fallen tree nearby."

Barely lit by the lantern he holds (which makes it a question of whether Wanda was going to traverse the dark plains without a light herself?) just about catches onto said fallen tree, its branches coiled on the ground like snakes waiting to ensnare their feet and legs, to make them trip.

[revise]

Two years.

Something in him flinches. Something else thinks, Is that all?, and a taste like aluminum rises way in the back of his mouth behind the molars. Becomes headache pressure. It takes him a second to name it: Jealousy.

Wake steps wide to avoid the gnarled fingers of a half buried knot of tree roots. Rain flecks briefly at his elbow, the cool bite of the evening air eager to nip at any part that strays too far from his companion. The reminder checks him. Toeing back in her direction with his next step sees that metallic tang on his tongue swallowed down. The headache lingers though. In a strange realization, it occurs to him that he might actually be tired. Physically.

"I'm Alan Wake. I'm a writer." Figures. Even outside the touch of the rain, he has that tortured wet dog look about him.

"And you remember all of it?" The lantern lowers by an inch to illuminate more of her and less of the way forward. "Two years. Consecutively?"

[carmesi]

To her benefit, Wanda has never met a writer proper. She senses something—emotions—just barely under the surface of his toned-down reactions, of his quieter demeanor, of the words he does and doesn't say.

"What kind of things do you write?"

And the curiosity is, at least, genuine. All sorts of people make it to Solvunn (to Abraxas at large), and for someone of her caliber, she finds the mundane aspirations of a cozy (hah) writer's life a lot more compelling than her own story of having become a witch. Being normal beats all the weirdness, in her book.

—but the questions beam onto herself like the light of lantern does, and she can't help but shrug.

"All of it," Wanda echoes. "Consecutively." Though it does bring a point of wonderment and curiosity. She glances over at Alan Wake (Alan? Or Wake? What would be appropriate?), a contemplative look in her eyes. "It sounds like you might have some experience in not remembering all of it?"

A case of amnesia, or something akin to it? Could be something of a concern, if it happens often.

[revise]

He draws up. Halts there among the tangled roots and waterlogged grasses and for just a moment as a pressure in the forefront of his head flares. It cuts up from the eye socket. Sharply jags its way to his temple, and burrows there. His thumb chases after the ache. The smell of ozone in the air smells sour. The lantern light stings. Wake presses with the flat of his hand to relieve the tension.

There is something he's forgetting. No, it's more than just something. It's a long list of things. A different plot entirely.

When his hand falls back away—

"I'm trapped," he says. Present tense? "I don't know for how long."

What kind of things does he write? Horror stories.

[carmesi]

Trapped, in the present tense, but with a precarious sense of uncertainty. Wanda feels it, that subtle pressure that he chases after. Telepathy isn't the best tool to measure moral standings, especially when she promises she won't use it on others but can't actually stop herself from just feeling what others perceive.

She stops, too, and takes two steps towards him.

The writer had pulled away from her touch before, so there is little she can do in terms of sympathetic actions. All Wanda manages is a hesitant reach of her hand for his, halting halfway in the air.

It feels (and sounds) complicated.

Her hand, rather than trying to reach for a part of him, reaches instead for the lamp. She makes it glow brighter away from them, but duller within their circle. Her eyes glance over to where it shines, further up the lack of a path they're following, to a setup of boulders and jagged rocks: a god's shrine.

"In the hopes of not sounding cheap and corny," she offers, glancing back at the man, "and even if things seem unlike it, I'd say that you aren't as much a prisoner here as where — you're trapped in, outside of Abraxas."

Somewhere that is foreboding and oppressive, as she senses it, like the growing darkness around them and the shrill sounds of the wind pushing against the trees and her own magical sphere of influence. It feels distant but close to him, too.

And because honesty is the best policy: "...I can sense things. Not that I'm trying to. It's just — loud, right now." He is loud.

[revise]

He is loud. Given license, even just the slightest bit of her attention, it might come spilling through for her. Like water leaking from a crack in a cup becomes a black ocean of sensation, here is the buzzing of a headache turning rancid Hiss of a dark thing that lives in dark places. His hand on his temple may as well have been a hand holding a manuscript in a close bundle while black ichor oozed free from between the pages for all the practical difference it had made to what he feels like.

(Somewhere, someone is putting terrible things on paper. Somewhere, someone is screaming at them to stop.)

So anyway, he could really go for about four aspirin and a stiff drink.

"Sorry," he says. Normal. Punctuated by a vague dismissive motion of his free hand. If Wake's privy to the shape of that fetid sensation he's cloaked in, he doesn't sound it. "My head's killing me. If that's true, you're probably getting a taste of it."

Blinking back that icepick bashing it's way out of his skull from the inside sensation, he squints past her. There's a shape out there in the waxy diffusion of lamplight. Boulders. Jagged rocks. A god's shrine. Wake recognizes it, somehow.

[carmesi]

"I've felt worse."

In the same tone as his: normal and vaguely dismissive. Everyone here is their own universe of experiences that are far too loud and far too traumatic—to an extent—to make one lesser than the other, but it also means that they're all in a way equipped to handle 'with care', or at least with understanding enough of boundaries.

Alan Wake wants to push onward and towards the shrine, and so Wanda follows suit after him, giving him a moment to take in the appearance of the place, shielded from the storm by the rocks that envelope it.

"Here it is. Any offerings on hand?"

[revise]

The strange part is it's what he expected it to be. Sheltered by the heavier stones, the only suggestion of the wind comes from the sharp sound of it whistling across the toothy tops of the boulders and in the rasping groaning of the nearby trees. His head is still thumping, but the dreamlike strangeness of walking through the weather encased in Wanda's bubble is diminished here. He isn't sure if it helps, really. Or what it would even help if it did. Just that there's something like a respite to the sensation even if its here in the shadow of a shrine built to a god of terrible things.

Wake sets the lantern down.

Yes. He has an offering.

"Before you were summoned here," he says, fishing the waterskin's strap over his head and off his shoulder. He takes the hatchet from his belt. "Do you remember anything about where you were? What you were doing there?"

[carmesi]

At least the man is prepared.

Wanda stays behind a touch, twirling her fingers to allow for her area of magical-control to grow a bit more to allow for Wake to step further towards the shrine without having to worry about elemental hazards. She doesn't want her magic to touch too much of the god's shrine, however, given her own pact with a different god. She doesn't want to give any of the divine beings reason for contempt.

"I remember everything clearly, unfortunately." Though she answers the question that she supposes ought to give him some insight of his current situation, the question itself gives Wanda some insight, instead. "I suppose I could say that I am dead back in my world. Though that isn't the case for everyone else here."

She stays quiet as he works his way towards the shrine, with his offering, and crosses her arms.

"Do you?"

[revise]

She's dead. That's almost funny. Not in the laughing 'ha ha' sense, but in the ironic one? Sure. Get a load of them, just two walking corpses having a conversation in a pagan shrine on a stormy night. Someone's definitely written this short story and has already had it rejected from a dozen magazines.

"I do." He's almost positive. Or he's almost positive that he thinks he does. That's probably as close as anyone gets when it comes to memory. "I wasn't dead yet, but I think we might be the only two people who know that."

See? Funny.

(No. The doesn't feel quite right. Is someone looking for him?)

The waterskin and hatchet are set aside. Wake draws a packet from inside his coat. It's warm from the heat of his own body, and the residual touch of the same magic that's dried his clothes and stripped the water from the back of Wake's neck. He hesitates for just a moment. Is this too literal? Too cliche? Is he putting too much of himself into this? It's dangerous to put himself forward like this.

But only for a moment. Then, Wake unfolds the vellum paper. He doesn't re-read the poisonous thing written there before setting it on the flat slab of the shrine's altar among the trace remains of other older offerings. Bird bones. The stiffened body of a gutted rabbit. A cup that might have once been filled and now is just dirty. Taking the hatchet up, Wake makes a nick in his finger. He smears the blood over the words. Afterward, the whole thing is doused in the contents of the waterskin—water from the summoning pool reducing the handmade paper to little more than discolored pulp in a matter of seconds.

It's not wine, or fruit, or an animal's body. But it is specific. It feels right.

[carmesi]

A grim present with an even more grim set of circumstances surrounding his whereabouts. Wanda is curious and wants to ask for clarifications, to get a peek inside the mind of a new individual through good old conversation alone.

But there is always a time and place for it, and now is not either of those.

"Sounds lonely," she points out, about the fact that the two of them are the only ones who might know he's alive. Hopefully someone is looking for him, just as Wanda knows no one is looking for her body.

She glances over at the contents of his offering, instead, and wonders if the act of presenting what he does comes from experience or what he thinks is right.

(That's the thing with offerings, though; there's no specific way to go about it, but feeling alone is a good enough starting point.)

"—are you going to offer a prayer, too?"

[revise]

"No. I don't believe in that kind of thing," says the man who's clearly spent all his daylight hours making the things he has offered correct. But it's true, which matters. Transmuting metaphor into something literal for assembly on a stone altar makes, he gets. But prayer?

"You can't fake any of it," he says, folding his cut thumb inside his fist. Tightening his grip. It stings, but fingers bleed like a motherfucker. Better to do that into his palm than onto his sleeve.

"It makes everything else seem implausible. The rest of it just comes unstuck." Like paint peeling off unsanded plastic.

—Granted, what the fuck he's even accomplished here is less than certain. But sometimes you have to trust the process. Your instincts. Feel your way around in the dark on the assumption that there's a point where it comes together whether you can see it from the beginning or not. That's what makes this so messy.

(It is lonely.)

With a brisk motion, Wake slings the waterskin's strip back across his shoulder. He stuffs the hatchet back into his belt. Apparently, they're finished. Fetching the lantern, he turns his attention to her. For the first time since meeting in the pathway it might be described as undivided.

"There's something I need to do back at the settlement and I get the sense you're not headed back in that direction. But we should talk again."

[carmesi]

He speaks like a man who is used to the uncertainty of things; to hope for the right piece of the puzzle to fall into place after committing to a series of facets of believing, though prayer need not be involved. Like a constant stream of possibilities, almost.

Lantern and attention turned towards her, Wanda raises an eyebrow, and that much is the expression that will greet Wake: a kind of unamused sense of the world, pledged in by something raw and under the surface—of understanding that goes beyond words.

"I don't live in the settlement anymore." Meaning that he would be right. Wanda raises her hand, takes a step towards him, and fixes a seam of his coat that's gotten caught under the strap of the waterskin. She smooths her fingers for a second longer over the section of cloth, and her magic imbues itself onto him. "It won't keep your skin or head dry, but this much should keep your clothes dry instead."

Magic, that is.

She takes that exact step back, her hand returning to its rightful spot over her crossed arms.

"I'd like to hear about the stories you write some other time, Alan Wake."

puts a little 🎀 on this

[revise]

There may be no such thing as a good witch in a horror story, but when her hand encroaches back into his space again there is less of a sense of his cringing from it. Surprise not withstanding, he's genre savvy enough to get how this works. The walk back to the shelter of the settlement isn't so short or pleasant that he's going to refuse a boon.

Or maybe Wake holds still for it because of the thing he's seen in her face that he recognizes but can't yet name. It isn't exhaustion. It's something more frenetic than that. A wire stripped of its coating, with no way of knowing whether its live or not just by looking at it. He's seen that look before. He's felt it, at least.

"You probably will." It's inevitable. That's how this works. In the meantime—

"Thanks," he says, plucking absently at the rain resistant coat. "For the umbrella." As far as moments of levity goes, it's not his best work. But from the sound of things, he's going to have plenty of time to refine the dialogue.

He hefts the lantern then. Gives her a nod in place of a goodbye or goodnight. Sidestepping out beyond the edge of her magic and back into the sharpened cold of the rain makes for a bitter reality check.