TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[abraxasmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to the very first 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 two 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 here. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.

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.

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 baring 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.

"I beg your pardon," he says, so absorbed in the pages of the book that he doesn't bother to look up, "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. One of my apprentices will explain everything in a moment, but please refrain from yelling and thrashing about until then. You're quite alright, and screaming gives me a hell of a headache."

Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the heavy tome, until he stops on one specific page, stares at it for a moment, and then exclaims:

"Aha!"

Scenario One: Welcome to Thorne

Ambrose's expression brightens, eyes twinkling with delight. 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.

"Success! It's a success!" he exclaims, slamming the book shut and scurrying towards you.

Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem quite relieved at his jovial outburst, 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, you're an honored guest here," 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 (everyone appears to have arrived within the last few days), or you can wander around and meet the others.

There's also a dining hall stocked with all sorts of fancy food to meet every possible dietary need, and a library filled with epic tales and legends and the history of Thorne. Given that this is the Thorne library, it may be a biased account that makes the Kingdom look a fair bit better than the rest of the world sees them. Last but not least, there's a study hall where a few junior mages (younger and less experienced than the apprentices from earlier) might be willing to teach you some simple elemental magic. Think holding a small flame in the palm of your hand, or blowing a door shut with a gust of wind.

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 spending too much time with the prisoners will lead to some suspicion being cast upon you. If you ask anyone why the prisoners are being held there, you'll be told that they pose a great threat to the Kingdom (and, by extension, the entire world).

Scenario Two: Imprisoned

The High Mage scowls, grinding his teeth as he slams the book shut. "Another failure!" he barks at the apprentices, "You lot wouldn't know your ass from a hole in the ground, would you?"

All four of them lower their heads, and two of them mumble an apology that Ambrose either doesn't hear or refuses to acknowledge. "Well, don't just stand there," he says, waving a hand in the air, "We've put all this effort into getting this wretched creature, we may as well put it to good use."

One of the apprentices drops a baggy, rough-feeling tunic, a pair of pants, and some worn sandals in your lap and glares down at you until you put them on (if you refuse, they'll tell you they can kick you back down that well if you don't want to cooperate). They're glaring at the High Mage as much as they're glaring at you (when they're sure he isn't looking, anyway). You might catch one of them long enough to ask them why they're so upset with you, but all they'll say is that the High Mage knows something they don't, and he's awfully upset about it.

Once you're fully clothed, another apprentice clamps some heavy iron shackles around your wrists and leads you on. The High Mage is far ahead of you already, muttering some long string of Thornean curses before he stands up straight and pauses, spinning to face you.

"One more thing," he says, holding one hand in the air and chanting something under his breath, "Can't have you getting too troublesome."

If you had powers, the slight connection you still had to them slips away completely and you're left with nothing as the four apprentices drag you towards the castle. They may answer a few of your questions (with some insults and curses peppered in), but they won't tell you anything important.

Once you arrive at the castle you're brought to the dungeons and thrown into a locked cell. There are four people to a cell, and two sets of bunk beds with a thin and lumpy straw mattress. If you're over six feet tall, these beds are going to be awfully uncomfortable. You might as well meet your roommates. Once per day you're dragged out to an enclosed courtyard for one hour of recreation (with some crude weights, benches, and balls lying around but not much else), where you can meet the rest of the prisoners, but you can also talk to your immediate neighbors in the cells on either side and across the hallway. Just don't yell too much or the guards will snap at you to be quiet.

Everyone in the dungeon is fed one meal a day, and for a prison meal it's decent: a bit of meat, a bun, and a salad. It would seem that the Thornean chefs take too much pride in their craft to send bad food to the dungeons. The meals are all served in equal portions, though, so the smaller prisoners may be overfed and the larger ones may be getting hungry. Feel free to fight for food or share with your cellmates.

Crudely embroidered on the back of every prison tunic is the same image that was on your card and the name of the sign beneath it. A guard may explain a bit about the sign, and tell you some negative stereotypes they hold about yours.

You may be blessed with a visit from one of the more welcomed newcomers, and they may sneak you some extra food or a small book to read or they may share some of the information they've gathered. However, rumors travel fast and some people believe the honored guests in the castle above are somehow responsible for the lot of the prisoners below. And although you may hope for kindness, there's nothing stopping them from being cruel to you if they wish. The guards will certainly turn a blind eye if one of them wishes to take out their frustrations on you.

---

Questions

How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Whether your character is honored or imprisoned has nothing to do with their personal morality, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into either situation.

Can I try out both scenarios?
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 Ambrose?
Prisoners will be dragged against their will. Honored guests will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and Ambrose and the apprentice mages will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, Ambrose will warn them once that he's willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight he will make good on that promise.

My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the castle, murdering the castle staff, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other staff 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 (if they are an honored guest) or a punishment like denial of food or temporary solitary confinement (if they are a prisoner), and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Thorneans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.

Ambrose will take it especially personally, as this experiment was his idea and too much trouble would risk the summoning spell being scrapped and potentially result in him being demoted. Rest assured it does not take much for him to throw someone back in the well at this point in time.

Is the power loss for the prisoners permanent?
No, although honored guests will regain their powers first due to the lack of interference from Ambrose, the prisoners will be able to regain theirs soon enough as well.

Can the prisoners talk about anything private, or will they be overheard at all times?
There are guards patrolling the dungeon, but they aren't always within earshot. Most of the attention is being focused on the new guests, so the prisoners will have some opportunities for privacy.

Can my character leave the castle?
For now they will be prevented from leaving the castle, even if they are an honored guest. A bit of a gilded cage, isn't it? They'll also find that any powers they regain cease to work outside of the castle walls (this is also a temporary effect) so flying outside is not an option.

Can my character eventually side against Thorne if I choose to make them an honored guest/can they side with Thorne if I choose to imprison them?
Yes, characters in Scenario 1 will be able to betray Thorne, and characters in Scenario 2 can work themselves into Thorne's good graces.

How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will have a major impact on gameplay throughout the first few months of the game, and potentially a bit beyond that depending on where our players guide the plot. 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 both scenarios 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 two 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 a put a character on the TDM if their canon is less than 30 days old?
Yes. For this app round, anything that's at least 30 days old when the game opens on June 12th can be applied from.

Do the apprentice mages have names?
Their names are Jeffrey, Grigory, Noelle, and Jolene.

---

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Comments

stephen strange . mcu . the high priestess / welcome.

[rehandle]

1. roommates

[ It's not what you expect when the last thing you remember before almost drowning in a deep well of nothing is passing a somewhat unremarkable Tuesday afternoon refamiliarizing yourself with New York City. But the unexpected is to be expected when you step into this line of work, and he's had worse surprises in the last— ...lately. So is it a surprise to find himself here, on the summons of mages he's never seen before wielding a magic he's never studied, listening stoically to their limited explanations as his presence is deemed a success? Sure. Is it unusual to find himself following said mages to an unfamiliar castle, led to an unfamiliar room where unfamiliar people wait looking equally out of place? Absolutely.

But past a certain point you have to learn to roll with the punches. And he's rolled with more than enough by now to have learned to accept reality for whatever it is, however unlikely, and fight it only when it needs fighting.

And so Stephen Strange is left in his new room with these new strangers. His hands ache, his magic feeling far away (though not, he thinks, inaccessible). Without the privacy to test his grasp on his power he stills his fingers before they can twitch into habitual patterns and cast something, or nothing, into the air, and having nothing else in this world to his name save the clothes on his back settles instead for claiming a bed.

He crosses to a vacant one, pausing once he reaches it to address a new roommate nearby. His tone's a little tight - he's experienced, not inhuman, and arrival in another world is slightly outside of his outer limits for remaining completely calm and unfazed - but it's still with mild dry humour that he asks: ]

Is this seat taken?



2. library

[ Having had a little time to accept and recalibrate, the most pressing need he's struck by isn't to eat or to sleep. It's to know. The apprentice's descriptions of the place and situation he now finds himself in covered basics at best, and his ignorance feels cloying, dangerous - exhilarating. The sheer scope of what he doesn't know sits in his mind like a promise and a warning. There's a whole world beyond these castle walls to familiarise himself with, an entire new system of magic to understand. And in the absence of the internet, there's really only one place to go to start things moving.

He's no stranger to a library. Half of his life has been spent poring over books in dorm rooms and study halls, offices and kitchen counters. More recently, leafing through ancient tomes while his body sleeps, reaping knowledge for those eight hours so he can train for the other sixteen. Living inside a brownstone behemoth filled with bookshelves and artifacts, history and magic and a bigger picture bound in leather or kept in cases, worn on his back when he steps out to take on the unknown. There are worse fixations to have. It comes in handy, and it helps him now as he pulls volumes from shelves and piles them heavy in his arms, moves them to stack in multiple few-book towers on a table, more books than anyone could ever hope to get through in one sitting. There's too much to learn and, for now, all the time in the world to do it.

He can be found there almost every day, either gathering his mini mountain range of books - a definite hoard of resources, showing absolutely no consideration for the needs of others - or already settled at the table with a minimum of two books from his stacks open at any one time, cross-referencing and clarifying. When he settles in he stays for hours at a time, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon or evening, sometimes multiple times a day. Keeping odd hours and pausing to eat and sleep only when not doing so has started interfering with his ability to pay attention to the words on the page, or when lured away to move from study to practice with the junior mages in the study hall. ]



3. dungeon

[ Learning comes in many different mediums. Once upon a time he didn't put much stock in whispers or in rumours, looked down on the gossip that spread through hospital corridors. Then he became a sorcerer, responsible for guarding Earth against the rest of the known and unknown multiverse, and whispers became very, very valuable. Embellishment could be fact or fiction, but usually contained truth. Rumours, traces, hints. All of it critical.

So it doesn't take him long to venture down to the dungeon. Oftentimes, the places people least encourage you to go are the places that hold the most important secrets. Nobody stops him. The guards make way. He can feel his slowly strengthening connection to the sources of his own power dry up as soon as he takes the steps down, and that's another clue in and of itself.

Once he's down there, he strolls along the rows of cells, and it doesn't take long to notice the crude embroidery on the back of someone's tunic. Verifying it with a few more, he approaches a cell, waiting until the inhabitant has afforded him their attention before asking: ] Why are you here?


4. wildcard

( I'm a little bit late to the party but feel free to throw anything else at me or pp me at enrapt to plot something out! )

3.

[sunshinehan]

[Majima has been waiting for visitors from above these days, nothing much else to do down in the dungeon. When he wasn't getting beaten by angry guards anyway. He looked better than he did several days ago when they really got into his hide but there were still plenty of bruises on him and some were fresh. Despite this, there was a certain demeanor about him that was lively rather than beaten down, an anticipation for something to come perhaps. Like he was biding his time.

He was already near the bars when Strange approached; not close enough to be easily touched but close enough to get a good look and hold a low toned conversation. He had heard the other coming and predicted a visitor rather than a patrolling guard. There was a distinct difference in sound. He cocked his head slightly at the question and then smirked slightly.]

I'd like to know that, too. Ya figure it out, let me know.

[rehandle]

[ The bruising doesn't bode well. Between that and the state of his cell and clothes, it's easy enough to surmise that this place doesn't put human rights high on its list of priorities. There's a downward tug at the corner of his mouth, brow pinching slightly with displeasure as he makes a mental note of the damage visible on the stranger through the low light and the bars.

Then there's the man's answer. It's neither a confession or a denial. They said I did xyz would at least be a reason, but no clue whatsoever? ]

And for how long?

[sunshinehan]

Just got here recently, probably the same way as you, a couple of days ago.

[He shrugged like he didn't really know or care. A lie. He kept count by the daily events. He watched the man carefully as they played 20 Questions.]

If yer asking me how long my sentence is for, they didn't mention that either.

[rehandle]

Great. Nothing like an indefinite sentence for an indeterminate offense to inspire confidence in the local authority.

[ A nod to solidarity but it's kept at a low pitch, conscious that there can only be the finest of threads separating him being out here from him being in there. Certain now that they're the same in whatever way mattered enough to land them both here - different in a way that neither one of them can confirm.

Better not to give the guards reason to bar him access in the future. Or to bar him leave right now. ]

Do you need medical attention? [ Obviously he needs medical attention. ] — Is there anything I can't see that needs looking at?

[sunshinehan]

[Majima smirked at the sardonic response. He couldn't say he didn't agree to that statement. He didn't know what the country or kingdom or whatever here was like but it wasn't doing him any favors so far so it wasn't exactly on his favorites list as of right now. Probably never would be at this point.

The ex-yakuza shifted slightly as he considered how to answer the next question. He wasn't exactly expecting much when it came to medial treatment around here and he didn't think even the welcomed newcomers could do much for him in that regard.

He shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.]

I've had worse.

[His missing eye may have been the obvious sign that that statement was, in fact, actually true in this instance.]

Just some bruises and scrapes. They'll heal on their own. So will broken ribs if I've got any.

[He was so casual about that.]

roommates

[mercurie]

[ it's been.. strange, if that's a strong enough word. at home, bram's freedom is limited by his family name and the blood that makes him so special. he's rarely been alone in his life, always with someone within reach-- family members or guards, asa or eventually amir. .. amir, mostly. he's had more privacy than ever before in his life since his partner's death, family and the world letting him grieve, but never quite like this.

it's an odd sort of relief to be utterly unrecognizable here.

still, the limitations of his existence haven't ceased simply because there's no name for what he is in the tongues of magic scholars here, and although he's been provided with slightly questionable alternatives to his usual prescriptions, he still needs.. breaks.

he's on one such break, in fact, when the new man arrives. sitting up in his own bed, a book open on his lap he'd apparently smuggled out of the library, he watches the stranger as he appears to collect himself, crossing the room to the bed nearest bram. his glance, gray and observant, finds the older man's hands--one of his own is bruised nearly black from the hard grip that had pulled him out of the water--then flicks up as he's addressed. he blinks mildly, then offers a small, exhausted smile, closing the book and folding his hands atop it. ]

I think it might still be free, [ he says with echoing humor, as if it isn't obvious the bed isn't taken yet. ] Quite a welcome we've been given, yes?

[rehandle]

[ The kid doesn't looks well. There's a pallor to his skin, movements diminished compared to what he'd expect from someone so young. And yes, sure, they've all just been through a shock, enough to subdue anybody. But he doesn't look concerned exactly, not in the sense of recovering psychologically from upheaval, he just looks... tired.

Sharp too, if his distraction with Stephen's hands is anything to go by. Though the book in his lap not so longer after being forcibly withdrawn from the depths of some kind of multiversal sinkhole might also give him away on that front.

Stephen nods at the granted permission and hitches up an answering smirk in response to the question, landing himself down on the edge of the bed to test the firmness. Not bad. ]

I missed the red carpet on the way in, but other than that.

[ It's certainly been a trip. Content for now with his testing measures - a small bounce and some shoving of the heels of his palms into the mattress - he turns his attention back on his new roommate. God, he's not had one of those for a couple of decades. ]

You've already got your library card?

[ Nice book. Did he turn up with it, or find it here? ]

[mercurie]

[ he shifts, adjusting his pillows so he can turn his body toward the older man, legs curling and book readjusted in his lap. he smooths fingertips over the cover, then hefts it to turn the spine toward his roommate. ]

A history of the local area. I'm not certain I was meant to take it out of the library, but.. [ his smile returns, a little self-conscious. ] Well, it's more comfortable here than it is there. [ and he'd been tired and hurting.

after a thoughtful moment, he spreads the book open on his lap again, paging delicately through it. ] I was looking for more information about the significance of these markings-- [ his free hand lifts to the stylized skull on his own tunic. ] --but thus far, it's been the expected nationalistic propaganda. [ he flips a few more pages, then sighs faintly. ] Nothing useful about the magic used here, either. Where it comes from, that sort of thing.

[rehandle]

[ It's more comfortable here than it is there, and if that isn't a relatable concept he doesn't know what is. He's stolen more interesting books under apparently closer supervision for the treat of getting some reading hours in sat somewhere other than at a library table, and he doesn't have whatever his new acquaintance does ailing him. So he doesn't have much more than an approving nod to offer at the admission before the conversation heads onward.

His gaze drops when prompted to clock the marking embroidered there and the little insight into the library's unsurprisingly nationalistic offerings goes noted, but before he can remark on either something else takes his attention. ]

So you're familiar with magic?

[ He doesn't sound like a person who's just had to come to terms with the idea that magic is real, which saves at least one crash course on how to adjust to sudden violent shifts to your understanding of reality. Actually, more immediately pressing than that, it'd probably be nice to know who he's bunking with. But you've got to give a little to get a little, and with his question count already at three... ]

Dr. Stephen Strange, by the way. Call me Stephen. Given the circumstances, I'm happy to skip formalities if you are.

[mercurie]

[ the smile he offers in response to the question is amused and a little self-conscious. ] I should say so, [ he murmurs, glance dipping briefly to his covered arms, littered with the thin, straight scars all mercuries collect over the course of their short lives. he pushes a hand up beneath a sleeve, rubbing his bruised wrist absently as his eyes lift again to meet the stranger's.

well.. not exactly a stranger anymore.

he closes the book again, straightening up, but not offering a hand out in case the doctor--stephen--would find a handshake painful. ] Bram Dee, [ he says as introduction, and to clarify his earlier comment: ] Descendant of John Dee, if you're familiar. I'm actually not certain where we're all from. [ earth? alternate versions of earth? other places, other planets and dimensions? ] You have an interest in magic yourself?

[rehandle]

[ John Dee... The name clicks in and his bow quirks with interest. That John Dee? Well, what other? Houston, we have a legacy. But a question is a question and best not answered with one, so: ]

A professional interest. [ That's not strictly the whole truth, is it? ] And an all-encompassing personal investment.

[ One cannot simply know about magic and not be completely overtaken by the need to know any and everything they possibly can about it. Well. Maybe some can, but he can't relate to that kind of detachment from the infinite possibilities of the multiverse. There's a little more energy in his posture now, a touch of forward-leaning to engage in the conversation, expression sharpened with intrigue. ]

John Dee, huh. That's quite the acorn at the foot of the family tree.

[ He's done his fair share of wider reading. His might not specifically be the Hermetic arts but the more intimately you understand the whole the better you know the part, and Dee had his fingerprints all over a good portion of the history of a variety of Stephen's areas of study and practice. ... That, and the 2012-release soundtrack album of the 2011 folk rock opera Dr Dee actually wasn't half bad. ]

[mercurie]

[ now bram looks intrigued, as well. it was certainly far too early to form any particular opinions about the doctor, but he's not sure he would have expected a fellow student of the more esoteric arts. .. maybe that's what they all have in common, though? some sort of interest or background in magic? there's no way to tell yet, but it's certainly a thought. after all, they seem to particularly revere magic and its use here. ]

As you might imagine, my family has taken great pride over the centuries in their alchemical work, research, and innovation. [ he huffs a small laugh, flipping his arms up on the pages of the book so the silvery trace of his veins can be seen beneath the thin, bruised skin and scarring. ] And they were central to creating and volunteering for the Mercurie program. [ a beat, a musing noise. ] It's not mercury, of course, it's only what it looks like.

[ he flips his wrists back over, brushing his sleeves back down once more. ] My own more practical skills are along the lines of hedgewitchery, which you might guess is not particularly respectable, but I find it interesting, and in any case, being the Mercurie of this generation of my family, I get away with rather a lot. [ his expression flashes in a quick grin, gray eyes bright with amusement, although it sobers again a few moments later as he peers up intently at stephen. ] What's your area of study? Or areas, I suppose?

[ all-encompassing personal investment certainly makes it sound as if he has multiple disciplines he's interested in. and that it's also professional is curious. what is it that he does for a living..? ]

roommates.

[latrodectus]

[ After doing that outer-space favor for Tony and the Avengers, Natasha had thought she'd made it clear. No more time travel, no more alternate dimensions, no more secret missions Kree or Skrull homeworld. There were enough bad guys on Earth to deal with.

But still. Still. She winds up here. In this dormatory. With her hair pulled back and a face like marble. ]

I don't think so.

[ Her voice is distant, but that's because she still deciding how she's going to play this. She noticed the man when he came in, tall, still but full of movement at once, somehow, like he was keeping something in check.

He might have observations she could use. ]

[rehandle]

Great. That'll be mine.

[ Said with absolutely no joy. A bed is a bed is a bed, except when it's a violent flashback to college - or what college might have been like if his college were Hogwarts. At least he didn't wind up with the Magician. That would've been too much on top of all the rest. ]

Been here long?

[ It's smalltalk, asked offhandedly, but not without purpose. They didn't all arrive simultaneously. A sense of the duration between arrivals might be worth something and an investigation's got to start somewhere. As do positive working relationships between the multiversally compromised.

She's giving nothing away, and that could be intentional or it could be shock. He's got half an eye on her as he crosses to claim his bed, aware that he's got a natural advantage coming into this situation that others may not have. Not everybody regularly breaches the laws of space and time before they've finished their breakfast. ]

[latrodectus]

A day. [ Long enough to have constructed mental a map of the castle, plotted likely escape routes, and drilled the name of several nobles into her head. She'd considered, for instance, how likely it was she'd survive a jump from the second floor balcony into the garden.

She'd also ruled out some of the usual suspects Morgan LeFay, the Enchantress. They would've given themselves away by now. Or immediately. Which left Natasha with no leads except for her fellow houseguests. ]

I haven't slept. [ She sinks forward, pushing her hands to her temples. The exhaustion that threads through her voice isn't feigned. ] What about you?

[rehandle]

A half hour, give or take. Probably give. [ Time got a little foggy fresh out of the void space in the fountain. Most likely something to do with a journey through spacetime and the multiverse. Or with a narrow escape from death by drowning, who's to say?

She's tired, tense. Understandable even without the confession of no sleep. So, leaning on his upper hand here for what he hopes will be mutual gain, he drops in an addition after missing one carefully orchestrated beat: ] I haven't slept either.

[ A joke. Appropriate? Unsure. Could hit or could miss. But at least it's a fairly even indicator that he comes in peace. An offering of energy: you're all out, have some of mine. ]

[latrodectus]

[ He sounds American. East Coast, educated. New York, maybe? Or something entirely different, some world where New York never existed, or never will exist. Not hostile. At least, not openly.

She could make a joke about Hogwarts, see if she got a reaction. But Natasha refuses. Even in desperate times, you have to have some standards.

Instead, she blinks, exhausted, her eyes closed as she smiles at his small jest. ]

What did you see?

[ Waking up. It must be fresh for him. Her eyes are open now. ]

[rehandle]

[ There's a directness to the question that gets his attention, dropping his brief performance of nonchalance so he can inspect her without distraction. She's tired, yes, worn out. But she's not on the brink of anything. Still alert enough to ask useful questions in spite of the day-long vigil she's been on.

It's not panic or fear that's kept her awake. At least not the kind of panic or fear that has people do dangerous things without putting in thought. ]

Endless darkness, light through water that obfuscated anything it might have illuminated. No trace of a way back, or even of a way in, and I felt no recognisable power down there.

[ Not the work of anyone or anything he's encountered, not the twin of any dimension he's slipped through before. Even the dark dimension was too bright to come close. If anything, that dark, drowning space he was hauled out of was a void.

One thought follows that's pertinent. He decides to share it, open the door to pooling resources more earnestly than he could without being candid. ]

I've not seen the book Rhett was holding before either. And I've seen a lot of books.

[latrodectus]

[ Felt, he says. Only certain types of power can be felt, and sometimes only by certain types of people. There's something to this guy, Natasha decides. ]

The trees? And the pillars?

[ It's a question. Natasha didn't know magic, not really, but she could identify the evidence of ritual. If they were brought to the same place, from the same darkness, maybe there was power in those stones. In that fountain. In that book.

She shakes her head. She had been raised to be a good Soviet girl, distrustful of superstition, of falling back to the old ways. ]

I try to avoid books like that, if I can help it.

[ There. She's put something out there, too. ]

dungeon ~

[opioid]

[ Eddie has had just about enough of sitting in a cell and watching the honoured guests parading around this place like they're down here for entertainment. This is where he's been for the last few days, sour mood growing sourer by the moment, and while at first he'd been quipping like the best late-night host as the curious wanderers came down here, now he's started to regard them with a stone-faced, suspicious sulk twisting his lips down at the corners and furrowing his brow.

This is what it must feel like to be the subject of rubbernecking. Eddie swears to himself as this new face approaches his cell and asks one helluva stupid question that if he ever gets out of here, he's never gonna rubberneck again. Something he never would've expected: the superiority in the gaze of someone who doesn't even know they're superior, that's so much fucking worse than gloating outright. ]

Well, jeez, I guess I just like it down here. [ Is he laying on the sarcasm a little thick? Maybe. ] Y'know, these crappy fuckin' cells, garbage beds, one hour of sunlight a day... It's a real goddamn dream.

[rehandle]

[ There's a brief delay after the barrage filled only with Stephen looking in, expression impassive, weighing the shape of his next words against his objective awareness of the dire situation the man in front of him finds himself in. Sadly, the delay is brief enough that a swift hitch of breath pitches him past diplomacy and into the land of over-expressive eyebrows and a honey slick smile, knife tip sharp at one corner. ]

Thank you for your feedback, management will be thrilled. I'll be sure to pass that on to hospitality.

[ The veneer of the host survives for one, maybe two seconds after his mouth closes— and then drops away. Mouth turning down with disapproval, the shallow pinch between his brows suggestive of that disapproval not necessarily being aimed through the bars. His jaw tenses for an instant before his voice cuts flat and low under the dank and dampened noise of the dungeon. For this man's ears only. ]

I'm not here to antagonize you. If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, I'll move on. But I'm not down here for the fun of it either.

[opioid]

[ Eddie sure as hell feels castigated, and he doesn't like it, not one bit. It shows on his face as a petulant, jaw-jutting sulk, just for a moment before he rights himself. He's not even sure why he does – coming down here, asking questions like that, Eddie figures this guy's opening himself up to a world of righteous sarcasm, and he should just accept it when it hits.

Still, there's a very thin line between acting the way he feels he deserves to and acting the way that'll probably get him kicked in the nuts, so Eddie wrangles the urge to let loose any more than he already has. ]

Why are you down here? You doing a census or something?

[rehandle]

[ It's a fine line thing, easy to sense: that could have gone either way. But the conversation remains open and he'll take that for as long as it's on the table, no matter how unfortunate it is that the audience is quite literally captive.

With a path cleared through legitimately righteous anger for now, he sheds some of his bite and urgency. A conversation, not an interrogation. Got to be careful to keep that clear. ]

Something like that. [ Near enough. ] I'm trying to figure out why you're all down here while I'm upstairs in a four-poster. But I'm getting the impression they weren't so kind as to read you your charges.

[ That would be too easy. ]

You are a recent arrival, yes?

[ Judging by how there's only a 0.02% chance he's not from New York, that check box is already ticked, but there's always room to be surprised. ]