tdm 20

[savmods]

test drive meme

Ingress travel can be disorienting. Your trip? More than most. Your body may experience several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. A voice, just out of hearing, calling a name you think is yours. You may have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. You catch a glimpse of a space filled with a soft cerulean light, a feeling of dankness despite the glow around you. Regardless of your current state, however, the stress of initial Ingress travel forces your body into unconsciousness.

Waking up is another story. Or is it?

Certainly, it's not where you are now.

---

sleep, perchance to...

You're dreaming.

You have to be. Certainly, you don't remember arriving in this strange, dim forest of your own accord. Gnarled trees form a solid barrier and a thin cage blocking the sky, silvery light illuminating the ground below in patchwork on all sides. The path beneath you seems to stretch out ahead and back for an eternity, though a light (an exit?) can be seen in the distance. Movement too, down the myriad array of branching side roads.

If you hurry, you can catch up.

* Take the Path:

No matter how quickly you travel, you won't ever reach that glow of light on the horizon. You may, however, encounter other walkers in the night. Friends, foes, strangers. Whoever is sharing your dreaming vigil, you might be grateful for the company. Certainly it's better than the feeling you get traveling alone: a prickle of paranoia and the sense that something just past view is watching.

* Less Traveled By:

The roads lead nowhere. The prickle at the back of your neck hasn't ceased. They're out there; they're watching you, and it's infuriating. But you can stop them. You can break free of it all.

The trees are firm and unyielding, but eventually, your efforts force them to give way. Through cut limbs and snapped branches, magic or agility or sheer, brute strength, you make a hole large enough to crawl through. And just as quickly, you realize your mistake.

The trees aren't there to keep you in.

Inky darkness roils from the gap between the paths, looking to devour you. If you run, it follows. If you hide, it seeks. It calls in voices only you can hear: your friends and your tormentors, the cries of everyone you've left behind. Find help to face your nightmares, or be consumed by them.

* All the Difference:

The light in the distance might still be out of reach, but through long searching, you've found a different sort of exit. Fog chokes off this opening between the trees, thick and obscuring. One step into the mist, and you lose all sight of anything outside it.

Two steps? Three? Ten? You're not sure how many it took before the world around you began to change. Perhaps you've found yourself in someone's worst moments. Perhaps you've landed in a fantasy. Perhaps this is your dream, with a stranger's face or voice intruding. Either way, you'll have to work together to get out.

---

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO

FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION

For mature or graphic content, please label.For questions, please direct them to the FAQ or the Feedback page.

Please Note: due to the chaotic nature of upcoming events, players who intend to preserve their threads for game use should not assume they were given the usual introduction to Thisavrou at the Ingress Complex. The above scenarios are, however, valid as game canon.

As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

wynonna earp ( wynonna earp )

[whiskeybottle]

take the path
( the feeling that someone was following her. it was familiar, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant. it kept her hand close to her gun, to peacemaker. there was no chance that she was going to be taken unaware by revenant, or anyone else.

she stops when she gets to the trees, smacking a hand against them in frustration )

Oh, come on.

( if wynonna had a little more patience, not immediately turning around and starting to walk away to find another route, maybe she'd see them opening behind her )

network
okay hotshots, quick questions. i'm hoping someone out here thought to pack some booze with them, which i'd be very grateful for. second, what the hell is this mess? it's like some fucked up fairytale.

( --though wynonna knows fucked up, and it's usually not a fairytale )

network

[impeccableorigins]

Like a fairytale, like a story-- how would you expect it to end?

Agent South Dakota | Red vs Blue

[whosthemonsternow]

Less Traveled By

[South is disoriented when she wakes up, in some weird ass forest and by herself instead of in the back of a pelican on her way home from a mission. She jumps to full attention as soon as she's aware of herself being somewhere different, assault rifle up and ready for any attack. She feels watched, her helmet flashlight desperately trying to pierce through the darkness to show any sign of enemies watching her. It was probably just the darkness and the one single area of distant light making things seem creepy, making her paranoid.

Her first thought is the pelican was taken down while close to a planet or something, crashed in a weird forest and left her knocked around and lost. But a quick review of herself makes her rethink that, she has no injuries pointing to a crash and there's no debris from the ship. Plus North, Carolina, and Niner are all MIA. Surely at least one of them or piece of their armor would be around her if there was a crash.

Dream seems more likely, she decides, even if she doesn't feel like she's been dreaming. The last thing she remembers is lugging North's overly big body to a seat and strapping him in, and Niner locking her out of the cockpit. Shit- and the bumpy ride, she definitely remembers being thrown around the ship and falling on her face. She must be knocked silly.

Despite it not feeling like she's simply unconscious and dreaming or hallucinating, she decides that's what it has to be, only thing that makes sense. After trying to force herself to wake up, and failing, she decides to explore the dream. What's it called? Lucid dreaming? Something of that nature, and maybe the only way to wake up was to "get out" of the forest. It seems to make as much sense as anything else, and she sets out towards the light.

After a bit, she takes note that the light isn't getting closer. It seems to be getting further away, her eyes narrowing at it from behind her helmet before she decides to try something different. If she can't get out of the forest, she'll go through it. With force if she has to.

She checks around one more time to make sure nothing has slipped up behind her or something, feeling that paranoia burning down the back of her neck, then sets to work on the trees. She starts with her boot, kicking at the branches and breaking pieces off. It's not fast enough and she starts in with her hands, putting her rifle on her back and digging fingers into the branches to rip them out. It's progress but not enough, still, and she takes to punching the damned mess, growling to herself as she hits the branches to break out.

Finally, she takes up her rifle again, not bothering to weight the dangers or risks of shooting into some unknown foliage, and starts firing into the part she's been breaking away.]

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Network

[South takes forever to decide what to do; video, text, or voice. She's not weighting the pros and cons- she's trying to decide what would be the most impressionable. Video is what she decides to go with, she'll be seen and heard, that's going to be good. The hardest part was to go with or without helmet. She's been warned informed she might find people from her reality, and she figures, if she's even here to begin with, there's a good chance she'll know at least one other person.

So with her helmet off, blond and purple hair hanging sharply around her face, she starts the video with a grin, tip of her tongue sticking out and nose wrinkled from the expression as she looks into the camera]

Hey, so, which planet and shit has a beach or something vacation-y? Cause I sure as fuck want a beach vacation. Also need directions to a store with swim suits. And real clothes. And where the closest bar is. And. I need a directory, does this TAB thing have a directory-

[The video cuts out as she starts fiddling with her TAB, setting out to look for said directory]

video;

[bloodbathing]

[ Like South, Maine debates what format to use before replying. His personal preference is text. He uses voice only grudgingly. Video, he's never used. But if South is going to freak out at the sight (or sound) of him the way the rest of their teammates have, Maine would rather get it over with.

[ It doesn't immediately occur to him that there's anything strange about her appearance. For Maine, there is nothing strange. This is South, exactly as he remembers her. Maybe later, he'll realize that North looking older while South looks the same is, in itself, fucking bizarre. ]

Directory?

[ SUP, SOUTH. Say hello to the big ol' visor and low, rough voice that can only be Agent Maine.

[ Also, what kind of directory? People, places, things? ]

video;

[sightsset]

[well hello there, baby sister. were you hoping i wouldn't be here to ruin your fun vacation? too bad. this is one raised blond eyebrow and a half smirk on north's face.]

Y'know, it's just like you to be late to the party.

garrus vakarian | mass effect

[centurian]

all the difference

[ right. so there were two paths and he had to pick one. apparently. at least, given that this was probably a dream, that's what makes sense, right?

either way, this whole thing felt like one of those human metaphors that Shepard went on about that he never got. so, he decides to take a third option and wade through an abyss of darkness or whatever. the only thing he's sure about is he hears a rustling off in the distance. his mandibles twitch, and he decides there's only one solution. he raises one of his rifles, and calls out... ]

Just so you know, I've heard turian tastes awful. And I'm a really hard one to swallow down.

[ or so he imagines. you know, with the armor and the sniper rifle and all... ]

network

So... this is new. I've seen a lot of strange stuff in my day, but this is the first time I can add "turning up in an alternate universe" to the list.

Some people have things to do. Like singlehandedly [ ok. fine. he supposes that some people were also helping him along the way... ] save the galaxy from a horde of sentient spaceships.

But hey, that's just me.

Network

[salarianpathfinder]

[While Raeka hadn't been there to experience the Reapers' shenanigans firsthand, Nihlus had been kind enough to share many of the horrible details with her shortly after her arrival. "Horde of sentient spaceships" isn't really a lot to go off of, but what are the odds of there being other hoards of sentient spaceships out there?

...Probably pretty good, considering how things work around here, but y'know. Either way, it catches her attention.]

Welcome aboard. Just a heads up, from what I've been told there's a very good chance that things are going to grow progressively stranger from here on out.

Are you referring to the Reapers, back in the Milky Way?

[yondu]

all the difference.

You sure? I ain't ever tried it before. How do I know you ain't fibbin'?

[What a way to introduce himself. Yondu comes out of the woodwork slowly, a dark form desaturated by barely moonlit mist. There's telltale hints of maroon and blue, but not much detail.]

Looks like you'd be tough. I reckon I can give you a pass. [That sounds like he's been joking. Probably.]

To the question you ain't askin'? Don't got a clue what this place is what we're lost in.

Network!

[beautifulspaceraptor]

'Singlehandedly'?

[ The display name reads 'Nihlus Kryik' if Garrus didn't already find his circumstances strange enough.

Text couldn't convey the sheer amount of amusement going on here, but he will still probably be able to feel it bleeding out between the letters anyways. Fortunately, Nihlus decides to spare the guy's ego for now and gets down to business instead. ]

As sympathetic as we are to your busy scheduling, there's unfortunately been very little development on the the issue of returning to our home universe. At least, not under controlled circumstances.

I have been here for nearly two years now however, so I wouldn't hedge any bets on things changing soon, controlled or otherwise. If you need help settling or getting your supplies sorted however, I am available for assistance.

[instalock]

[ genji, on the other hand, avoids the paths. better to remain unseen.

still, the weapon pointed in his direction acts as a floodlight: he doesn't stop to wonder whether this dragon of a man had simply chosen his position at random - silence is fertile ground for paranoia - or if his cover had truly been blown. ]

Not particularly fond of reptile meat, myself.

[ a green flicker of light in the darkness, rippling until it solidifies into a quiet V. genji crouches close to the ground, steel and steam, hands deceptively empty. it would take a moment to draw his blade; deliberately, he doesn't. ]

Even less fond of having a rifle pointed at me.

(King) Alfor || Voltron Legendary Defender

[alformthearm]

Take the Path
     How long he'd been walking, he isn't sure, but it's only now that he slows as the realization dawns on him. It's with the reaction of someone snapping out of a daze that he stops and actually looks around, his brow furrowing now that he properly takes in his surroundings.

     With his white and gold armor, he's a difficult figure to miss, catching what light does manage to filter through the leafy canopy above. There's a regal bearing with which he carries himself, underlying the caution with which he proceeds to move along the path. Ahead, there's a light. Surely that's a good sign!

     His dark cloak flows after him with each step, his head turning just slightly as he looks towards the trees flanking him, certain that he'd seen something moving beyond. He doesn't like the feeling that he's being watched, and it only makes his grip tighten around the sword he carries, its blade as white as his armor, trimmed in gold with a dark gray hilt, and a glowing line of blue cutting right through the center of the blade itself although only about two-thirds its length.


Less Traveled By
     It's only inevitable that the Altean has become tired of being watched. It might not seem a good idea, but thus far, nothing has struck, and yet something still lingers. And clearly the best idea is to deal with it before whatever it is decides to finally deal with him. He'd rather be the ambusher than the ambushed.

     His blade makes short work of the branches that form a natural barrier from the pathway he'd been following, although he'd not realized the density of the underbrush until he attemps to make a way through. Alfor is nothing if not persistent, and he puts in the effort to get through, looking slightly proud of himself. It's only for a moment as he realizes it's...rather dark here. The darkness doesn't make sense for how light the path just behind him had been, and indeed it seems to almost have a life of its own.

     "Surely I'm imagining things," he mutters, although his stance shifts, betraying his true concern of the situation. "...perhaps remaining on the path would be best after all...."

     He turns, about to do so, but halts just as abruptly, eyes widening. Just now, he's sure he'd heard someone call his name. Spinning full circle, Alfor once again faces the darkness of the woods, his cloak billowing around him with his movement. "Where are you?" he calls out, a slight edge of desperation in his voice.

take the path aka screaming for ten minutes straight

[patchricide]

All that business about duplicates and shadows must have left Allura more tired than she realizes.

Because she catches sight of a man up ahead, and at the very first glance, it's as though an alarm has gone off in her head. She recognizes the armor, the posture, the white hair, the glimpse of an ear. She sees him, and her heart isn't sure whether to be giddy and light or heavy with loneliness, and feels like it's twisting and spinning in her chest.

It's only a moment later that she realizes that this can't be right, and she must be going mad. She's already lost him, twice. There's no way he could have come back again.

But then, strange things have happened here already, haven't they?

She starts jogging, and then running, to catch up with him. She should cry out for his attention, but words briefly fail her. He's sure to hear her approaching before calling out to him in a soft voice:

"E-- excuse me, are you--" -- she pauses for a split second, realizing she didn't think this through, if that's not her father then this would be the most awkward question in all space and time -- "--lost?"

TAKE THE PATH

[shiro2hero]

"Okay... not the worst thing we've done so far..."

The worst thing happened back on Thisavrou already. So this is weird. Definitely bizarre, but nothing they can't handle. Nothing any of them can't handle. At least, if they weren't separated. Which is great, really. He can't raise them on any communication channels, either.

Time to start searching.

Only for something to slice through the trees nearby, step forward in a swirl of white and gold. It screams familiarity, but he steps back, regardless, holding his hand up in defense, glad he decided to armor up before this mission.

"Careful!"

anakin skywalker | star wars

[sasswalker]

i. take the path
[ He's no stranger to dreams. Not even those palpable and all too real, the sort that disorients upon waking and shifts the whole understanding of reality. But being used to it doesn't make it any easier to swallow or make that creeping unease any easier to shake. It feels altogether too real to carry any understanding with it that this reality isn't, or that this doubt is unfounded.

But how has he arrived at any of this? This forest that seems to stretch endlessly in all directions. He can hear it running in his head already, the admonishment that he needs to trust his instincts, no matter the slow burn of anxiety that seems to stretch from his center through every one of his nerves.

As he picks a direction--forward in one way has to lead to something--this is also when he whips out the lightsaber. The sound as it ignites is familiar, even if nothing else is, and so too is the eerie blue light that emanates. ]


ii. network
So what is this, wild space? Or has no one here invented intergalactic travel yet? Seems like it should be easy enough to solve this mess with the right tools.

[ Because, clearly, no one has thought of this yet, right? ]

network

[redshitlord]

dude yeah they did but like lol
nooobody has it for whatever reason????


idk man its just kinda like
heres an INGRESS its all were gonna use ever

let's walk this path together, friend

[ventifact]

[In a forest, Rey is about as removed from her natural element as she could get. The trees block the sun, the ground is too soft, there's too much cover for something to be hiding in for her liking. She treads carefully, always aware that someone, something, is nearby. Reaching out with the Force yields nothing for so long, and she marches on in one direction, only occasionally trying to sense what's around her because honestly, in a place like this, what's the point?

Except eventually, she does sense someone. A familiar someone, and her heart picks up the same as her steps.

Soon she's crashing through the saplings and underbrush, branches whipping her face and breath coming out in harsh pants. It can't be--but if it is--

She sees the familiar blue glow of a lightsaber before she sees him, and even then, she doesn't stop running. Her voice cuts through the hum of the weapon and the eerie forest sounds:]

Anakin?

jyn erso | star wars | crau

[unanticipate]

( take the path )

[ The light comes when she's on her way to leave the city. She isn't going at a fast pace, dragging her feet, really. She doesn't want to go back to Scarif. She doesn't want to go back to her galaxy at all. There's nothing there for her anymore. So the light, when it comes, is a blessing in its own way. Though, seeing her new surroundings, it doesn't feel like it. She looks around her and it's almost too easy to fall back into the habit of being on guard, ready to fight if anything or anyone decided to come out of the trees.

Slowly, she takes steps down the path, eyes sharp on the line of trees. Her hands flex anxiously and she wishes she had a blaster or something. She looks over her shoulder a few times, feeling that someone is behind her. Or at least... watching. It gets her hackles raised easily and there is no doubt she is far, far away from Eudio now.

One hand grips the strap of her bag slung across her chest as she spots movement further down the path. Or she thinks it is. The light is quite bright. She yells out to them, thinking it's worth the risk if it means she can get some answers of where the hell she is. But she doesn't get an answer. She starts running.

Jyn runs until the muscles in her legs are straining and her lungs burn, nearly stumbling into a complete stop. She hunches over, hands on her thighs, coughing slightly. Looking up, she's no closer to the end of... whatever this is. ]

....what is this?


( less traveled by )

[ When Jyn is too damn irritated by the path, she looks to the trees. If she can't get to the end, she will cut through the sides. The branches are thick and the trees many so she goes at it like any enemy: with the same ferocity as she fights. Her own frustration and temper just fuel it more. She tosses her bag off and runs at the first tree, launching herself on the lowest branch she can reach. She climbs up it and starts breaking thinner branches with her hands and fists. Others with her boots while holding onto another branch.

When she starts to encounter thicker ones, she jumps back down and searches the ground for a rock. One with an edge or point, preferably. It takes more time than she likes, cursing under her breath in her impatience, but she finds one that works, almost larger than her fist. She charges at the trees again and starts using the rock to break the bark of the thicker branches and then jumps up to add her weight to them. The snaps are loud and sharp in the silence. She's almost hoping something will come charging or make a noise. Anything to give her an idea of what is going on, of where she is now. ]

Paths

[bylothalmoons]

[Cassian doesn't know what this is; by all descriptions of the afterlife...this isn't that, but at the same time, this isn't Scarif, either. He should be dead, by all accounts, not placed on some strange planet that seems akin to Endor.

Still, he wanders the path, doing his best to take in every sound, every sight--anything that might provide him a hint of what is occurring.

That's when he hears a voice ahead of him, on that is keenly familiar. Without thinking he starts to sprint.

Within a few moments he sees her, and not to startle her, he calls out her name, slowing himself down.]

--Jyn?

[It has to be her--but if it is her...

...this is some afterlife, then.]

QUIET Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ MGSV

[kaalogii]

༼ Less Traveled By༽

It didn’t matter how softly her feet treaded the ground, nor how careful she moved so that her gear wouldn’t jostle too loudly, the voices always seemed to find her and the quieter she became the louder those voices grew. She needed sunlight, she needed fresh air and water, but the dark canopy of this forest left her with little to no hope. It’s a far cry from the deserts she’d come from. Heat was in every stone, whereas a chill was beneath the bark of each tree she passed, the sand in the desert was a golden shine and the floor here was a ghoulish grey. She’d found herself in stark contrast to the world she was yesterday. She was unfamiliar with this terrain and she was without a map or iDroid to give her some direction. Ahead there was a light in the scope of darkness, yet it didn’t expand the further she pressed forward.

Voices once again came in a muffled state of chaos like a bad recording over a cassette tape. Distinct voices came scrambled across warped songs, then at its peak the whole noise would screech and fizzle out like bubbling plastic over flames. It brought her no comfort despite the familiarity of songs and voices she could make out.

Instead it brought her horror for what it could mean, what all of this could mean to her. Was she rediscovered and brought to the brink of madness by her captor? Or was this a blooming side effect of her infection? The last thing she wanted was to become a zombie and she feared that fate now as she wandered aimlessly through this forest running from unseen voices and toward a light that would not have her.

What if her body belonged to the hoard of parasites and her mind was endeavoring to make sense of her detached movements? What if she was no longer acting on her own physically and she was truly trapped within the cells of her mind?




Ẅ̛̘̦̲͖̪̘̪͍͓̙́̈́̌̈́̌̾̈́̕͠h̜̤͇̲͔̥̺̟̫̺̉̆̋͑̋̀̎́͝͝a̢̬̗̝̱̯̙̥̼͆̂̃͑͗̒̈́̒͆̚͜t̤̘͈̲̟̪̥̩̏̓̾͆̀̓͌͒͛́͜ͅ ̨͎͓̰̦̥̝͈̤͑̌͊̾̆͊̎́̕̚͜i̡̨̡̛̭͈͓̮̙̹͉̾͒̃̐̄͘̚̚͠f̛̼͕͍̟̗͖͔̩͉̓̌̇͂͛͛̃̇̕ͅ ̩̼̣͚̰̳͙̮̼͒̀͋̉̿͛̍̽̃͗͜y̧̲̯̥̯̗̭͍͍̲̽͌̓̅̓͋͊̈̚͝ǫ̨͕͓̙̼͇̻̠̲̇̅͌̅̽̿̈́̆͒̓ư͈̣͖̬͇͔̼̙̹̆̇͌̍̾͂͝͠͝ͅ ̛̠͔͇̫̮̟͉͔̠͔͊̂͐͐̎̐̄͝͝h̢̨̬̖̰̜͓̤̳̹̉̍͋̇̓͐̊͊̚͝a̦̻͎̼͕͈̯͕̼̞̽̓̆͋̑̀̉̾͝͝v͇̗̺͖̺̳͚͚̙̼̊̾͆̓̑̄̓̐͆̾e̢̧̛͉͔̝͍̖̤͕̼̒̈́́͒̈́̈́̅̒̕ ̜̼͉̬̦͙̟̘͖͎̉̊́̆͌̈̈̑͘̕b̬̲̹͇̹͖̱̮̟͉͐̒͌͗́͛͗̋́͝e̢̧̨̛̠͖̼͉̻̙͐̓̑̆͂͑̊̀̕͜ě̦̞͕̞̯̠̺̩͔̠̏̓͋̔̂͆́̀̃n͓̩̹͍̗̦̩̮̘̮̅̓͛̒̽̂͒̂̆̔ ̧̡̣̝̻̙͇̖̹̝̾͑̈́̆͌͒͋̎́̉d̖̥̙͚̰̝̗̳̅̋̀͋̆̊́̈́̈́̈͜ͅë̛̙͍̯̘̮̤̺͍̣̘́̅̉́̎͌͆͋̃a̡͖̗̣̥̦̗͚̞͋́̓̂̈́̈͗̎̃̒͜d̡̙͈̠̥̫̙̲̱̽̏͐̐̍̊̍̈́͛̔͜ ̢͙͓͎̘̙̳̟͖̣́̾̾̓̀̔̓̍͑͝a̙̼̖͈̙̜͚̼̜̲̽̃̄͗̓͂̾̀̎͠l̨̝͉̻̹̦̱̦̼̣̑͗̾̀̒̆̐̇̂͝l̡̧̟̫͉̦͔̟͕̽̊̃̃̈́͒̊̅͒̌͜ ̨̨̰͉̲͙͙̗͈̝̍͑́̿̉́̈́͋̾͝ā̡̹͕͈͉̳̩̰̼̪͆̓̓̎̈́̇̄̔̕l̨͉̘̪̤̝̪͔̖̋͑͊̈́̾̐̔̊͠͝ͅo͓͖̤̹̳͕̝̯̱̒̏̈́̈̿̃̈͊͘͝ͅņ͍̮̯͎͚̻̤͍͍͛͗͂͐͐̄͐̒̈͘ġ̢̢̥̰̹̼̺͙͚̾̽̔̃̎̃̒̚͝ͅ?̡͇̟͚̦̭̥̗͍̄͛̂̆̌͛͒̈́̀͝ͅ



What if you have been dead all along? The voice came to her then and sounded as if it was just behind her ear. Quiet turned to look over her shoulder and found nothing there but the same old gloomy trees that chased behind her shadow. Ocelot's voice, she was sure as it made sense in its own disconcerting way: he was logical and this question wasn't far from her own thoughts of her fate. His voice came over a distorted tune, she could make out the sound of the music but the words were jumbled for a moment until she repeated it in her mind; only then did the music start to clear up and she could hear it clearly:

How can you just leave me standing?
Alone in a world that’s so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I’m just too demanding
Maybe I’m just like my father too bold

This is what it sounds like… when doves cry. Her eyes closed and her brows furrowed, why wouldn’t this song be the perfect tapestry of her current madness? Quiet moved again, though her steps were few she at least made it forward to a thick tree covered in rough bark. The feel of its dried skin felt good against her smooth palms and she rested her head forward onto its cool surface with Prince’s song following after her. Her ember eyes looked to her side and found various other trees plotted to her sight, the perfect scattered tombstones made of nature’s foreboding bark. All that was left for her to do was find the tree that would loom over her own grave. Quiet looked up, her palms on either side of the tree she stood against, and rested her chin to its dark skin. Was this her penance?

Touch if you will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
You’ve got the butterflies all tied up
Don’t make me chase you
Even doves have pride

[nyxus]

Nyx, where are you? Nyx! Save mom! Help us! Nyx! Over and over and over and over and—

He was going mad. Years of hearing her voice hadn't prepared him enough for this constant barrage of her screaming in his head. He had kept moving, kept pushing against the branches in his way, unable to see through the puffy mess his eyes had become. Nyx had stopped crying some time ago at least but he couldn't hardly see still. There was nothing for him to look at anyway. It seemed like no matter how hard he struggled he was stuck in the same place.

Nyx hadn't given up, as much as his heart hurt, he kept tugging and wrenching on the branches. It was only when he stopped to rest a moment when he heard someone else nearby and he looked up to see the woman leaning against one of the trees nearby.

There was a clearing through the path on the other side of the tree she was at. Why hadn't he seen it before? Nyx stared, confusion written all over his face. Finally he moved away from the thicket of trees he had been fighting against and moved around towards her. "Who are you? Where'd you come from?"

W'elta Tia | Final Fantasy XIV

[shirtlesswonder]

Take the Path:

Feeling like he's being followed, watched, it's not too unfamiliar for Elta. Traveling with the other Warriors of Light did that to a person, they had a few more fans than the Seeker would have liked if he was honest.

Still, this is different. He isn't sure how much he likes this. It isn't long before the book at his hips is out and a quick channel of aether has him summoning his ruby carbuncle, he rather be ready for anything.

"Keep beside me, Ruby...I rather not loose sight of you." He looks down at the small red foxlike creature who chirps back and causes him to smile if only faintly. At least he had a friend on this rather odd journey. Odd...that was saying something considering what he was used to. Elta has to shake himself, he needs to focus. Get out. Find the others. Perhaps Talon or Ghuro are nearby. Honestly he might even be happy to see Casca'a or one of those Dotharl trainees. All he wants is a familiar face. Or a friendly one.

That would be nice too.

Setting off at a jog, Elta can already sense something is off...but it's hard to see in this dim light. What he wouldn't give to be a Keeper in this moment. Damn terrible low light vision.

----

Network:

[ At first the video is upside down before finally the cat-eared man on the screen fixes it at last. Jet black ears are pinned back slightly as red eyes squint.

Did he get it working? He hopes so. ]

Could anyone tell me where the nearest Adventurer's Guild might be...or the equivalent.

Better yet, it might be nice to get back to my own star.

[ Oh Elta, if you only knew. ]

Voice

[sightsset]

Adventure's guild?

[north's voice is naturally pleasant and warm, but his tone is pretty confused.]

I don't think this place does "guilds."

Chewbacca | Star Wars

[fuzzball]

( take the path )

Standing nearly seven and half feet tall, Chewbacca isn’t exactly inconspicuous, but the hirsute alien moves surprisingly quietly along the gloomy, murky pathways, his faithful bowcaster clutched in both hands in front of him; aimed down non-threateningly, but ready to be raised in an instant in case of danger. He isn’t a stranger to forests, but these shadowy woods were not comparable to the gigantic wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk, his home planet. However, he knows the dangers such places could hide, and he isn’t about to drop his guard anytime soon –- especially considering his inexplicable arrival to this strange place when he’d only just accompanied Rey to Ahch-To in search of Luke. He'd try to make sense of that later.

Chewie is a warrior and a military leader by Wookiee standards, and he isn’t afraid of much (except maybe trash compactor slugs, bad smells, and those things put together), but the oppressive atmosphere of these misty pathways have the hairs of his fur standing on end, feeling unseen eyes on him no matter which path he turns to. He doesn’t like the unnerving sensation –- an understatement, really –- a distinctively challenging howl leaving his mouth; come out and face him head-on instead of lurking in the shadows!

But nothing and nobody comes at him despite the urging. Not yet, anyway. Quicker now, Chewie continues his trek down the endless paths, every sense sharp and his bowcaster aimed just a little higher before him. He’d be ready. In the meanwhile, maybe he can find someone with answers. Try as he might to have stout heart and brave spirit as he goes, though, he can’t quite help the soft, disconcerted whine that escapes between his teeth as he turns to yet another winding pathway. How was anyone supposed to find a way out of this dim maze?

( ooc: I will match format, so feel free to bracket it up! )

[articulations]

"I knew I wasn't hearing things in this place."

Leia stands at roughly four-eleven, not making any effort to mask her steps on the ground that snaps and crunches beneath her boots. Now that she's peeking out through the tall overgrowth between the trees and sees that walking carpet she's grown so fond of, she has no reason to hide. All that sleek fur, the familiar sounds, even the way he holds himself -- he's a sight for sore eyes.

She'd been worried that she wouldn't find anyone here, not a single face she might recognize, until he came along. He couldn't be alone; where there was a Chewbacca, a certain rogue was sure to follow.

Peter Quill | MCU

[zunesareawesome]

Take the Path

"Rocket, I swear if this was you..."

Peter had absolutely no idea where he was, and things felt just eerie enough for him to be a bit more concerned than he usually would be. Not that this was a common thing for him, in fact he couldn't reven remember where he'd been last, exactly. Working on the Milano, maybe? Repairs were almost complete and they were nowhere near planentside--

"Gamora? Drax...?"

Not their style. Well, Rocket was more likely to prank him. Drax would never let it get this far without spilling the beans or announcing his presence loudly.

He looked suspiciously at a tree and poked it.

"Groot?"

Network

so like if this isn't some massive joke by a certain trash-panda who's gonna get his stuff tossed into a star if he doesn't 'fess up, im kinda sorta maybe completely and utterly lost, so if you could point me in the direction of the nearest ship heading off-planet that would be super awesome of you

also this place is freaking me out

just sayin

Rocket I know it was you, you tiny buttmunch

[yondu]

Rocket?

You mean that rat?

Quill, is that you?

[Luckily autocorrect can make Yondu sound like he's capable of construing words.]

This is Yondu. Where are you boy?

Steel | Sapphire & Steel

[impeccableorigins]

Long I stood and looked down one as far as I could (take the path)

On the path stretching to eternity stands a man in a grey flannel suit. Gray tree trunks surround him, gnarled and knotted, thick and tangled. If their bark were a little smoother, if his suit were a little darker, he might be mistaken for a tree himself -- he's that still. His face is shadowed.

He is staring at one tree in particular, with a crooked branch and a prominent knothole.

"Sapphi--" Steel begins out of habit. But Sapphire is not here.

Steel reaches out, a curiously tentative gesture. He bends the crooked branch, thick as it is, and watches it spring back, quivering like a bow when the string is released. The leaves rustle. The shadows dance. He watches them until they are still.

He's reaching out to do it again -- maybe the same, maybe with a slight variation -- when he senses someone coming. He turns, cool as a predator with prey in sight. He meets the newcomer head-on with a question, abrupt and demanding.

"Has this forest been here long?"


Knowing how way leads on to way (all the difference)

Steel does not dream, not usually. That might explain why he's been wandering in the fog for some amount of duration but no amount of time. Steel knows time well; that's not what's passing here.

A black cat crosses in front of him, the only living thing he's seen since he entered the fog. He follows it until it rushes across a drawbridge like a streak of black lightning, faster than he can follow. He tilts his head up, and up, and sees that he has arrived at a castle.

Something like a castle, at least. The entryway grins toothily, the walls bulge, the windows blink as the bonfire within the courtyard blazes and dies, as unreliable as a candle. The ramparts are sharp like a crown of thorns and a staircase spirals up like a vine from the top of the rounded roof, disappearing into the night sky. A full moon is rising.

As the dream or fantasy closes around him, Steel realizes that he is late. He is expected in the throne room, but in the way of dreams, he has no idea who is expecting him, or why. But he will soon find out. He strides purposefully across the drawbridge and through the grinning gateway.

Ellie (the last of us)

[viably]

take the path
[The feeling that she's being watched and tracked makes her jumpy. She's used to that feeling but experiencing it in a new place by herself is something new. It makes her want to scream something into the darkness. Just one little something will make her feel better. She knows she can't be alone here, she's bumped into others and hears footsteps.

Ellie stops walking and glances over her shoulder. No one is there.

Her hands cup to her mouth and she shouts.]

Hey asshole, over here!

[It's gonna be fun to see who ends up approaching her.]


less traveled by

[Hack. Slash. Hackslash. Hackslashhackslash.

It takes her forever but she finally is free. Her small knife wasn't long enough to do much, which means her fingers and knuckles are bloody and torn. If Joel were here he'd be making a stink and yelling at her to slow the hell down. ]

Yeah, well, he's not here. And don't you dare fucking cry about it either.

[She climbs out of the small hole he's made and falls onto her back. The all-consuming darkness is quickly noticed and she gasps as she rolls over and climbs back up to her feet. There's no time to stop, she has to run.

Her heart races, thunders in her ears. Somehow, the voices drown it out. She hears Riley above the others, but she can make out Tess and Joel too. A strange woman's voice shrilly warns her about being devoured, and Ellie knows without a doubt that the ghost is her mother.

Terror consumes her and she runs until she trips and falls. Her hands cover her ears and she's trembling as she lets out a scream. It's a roar, one that warns she's a wolf that's about to tear through and devour.]


all the difference

[The fog is thinning, the darkness fading. Ellie's left standing in a place that she doesn't recognize. Someone is here with her now too. She can see them clearly.]

Hey, wait up!

[She's out of breath but she still runs. Her hand grips hold of them when she's close enough, so she can make sure they're real.]


network
So...who's heard the one about steak puns?

Anyone?

They're a rare medium well done.

Seriously though, why shouldn't you spell part backwards? It's...wait for it.

Ready?

It's a trap!

[Trap is right. Respond and get sucked into a pun off.]

Less traveled by

[tearsinajar]

[ Unsure how she'd gotten here, darkness twists around, gnarled and starved. Elena's lost for a few moments, hesitating on what road to take as many are laid out before her. She stands there, lost to time, seeing nothing but everything at once, and is startled out of dark thoughts when she hears a shrill scream that turns her blood to run cold.

The sound carries in the forest of black and Elena latches on to it, following the echo until she comes across someone small on the ground. ]

Hey— hey, it's okay— you're okay...

[ Only urged on to help, not thinking about the possibility that this could be a trap, that she could be hurt, Elena hurries to Ellie's side. She crouches down, hands out and ready to steady her. ]

Kevin Flynn | Tron: Legacy

[gridfather]

all the difference

Past the dark tree line, Tron City emerges from the fog like a glowing jewel under the black sky. It's misting out, the sort that seems to flow and drift more than it falls, adding an extra sheen alongside the latticework of light. Flynn tugs his hood up as he steps from the alley.

There's something else in the air, soft flickers of white that catch his attention. What is that? They dance with the never-ending mist, jagged at the edges-- pixelated, he discovers with some amusement, when he snags one from the air. Flower petals. A literal storm of them, rushing down the street at his back, churning in the wind as it tugs at his clothes, his hair.

The source is easy to find, once he turns to seek it. A park at the end of the street, and a sight he's never seen on the Grid before: a rise of bright green grasses dotted over with clumps of white wildflowers, caught up in a perfect ray of sunlight that doesn't pass beyond the wide circle of verdant meadow. Standing there on the black sidewalk, Flynn watches programs hurry past to escape the wet, ignoring the park and the petals falling from this slice of blue sky, ignoring his presence, ignoring anything that isn't their own concerns, their own lives.

Y'know, it puts him out a bit, remembering in that moment that he's dead.

"Well," he mutters, looking dubiously at the incongruous little park, "That's one hell of a white light."

whose woods these are I think I know;

[a_perfect_end]

He was loose on the fairway, tearing down the road as fast as the wind, faster. Then the rain began to fall, silver stinging lashes looking for every seam in the armor, electric and cold--

Not rain. Rain didn't catch and gather and drag under the wheels.

Something else. Feathers, or leaves--no. Petals was the precise term for the smaller, softer iteration, the delicate lure before the seeds. Nature. Again. That by itself was enough to shift the feeling in the air and draw his shoulders tight. The bike left him, the armor with it, there and then not--but he could track a disturbance of this size on foot.

That great and terrible mess billowed down out of a cartoon slice of spring day right in the middle of the sidewalk, pouring sunlight in steaming rays that beat back the welcoming dark.

Talk about a clipping error. A low whistle of dismay left his teeth before he could quite call it back. This would take forever to--

Oh.

Oh. Oh? Oh.

"...Now I know I'm dreaming."