Xistentia: Mod (
spoofer) wrote in
xistentiaooc2017-10-28 04:56 pm
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Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme #6 (tw violence)
Test Drive Meme #6
I want neither revenge nor relief.
CRASH LANDING
Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.
And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around.


Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.
Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.
When you get a second to breathe, maybe you'll see it. The brilliant green forest across the sand. Beyond that, the glint of a faraway city.
BATTLE WITH D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.
November has barely begun, when chaos strikes again[2]. Perhaps you've had weeks to settle in, finding yourself a new home and getting accustomed to the neighborhoods... or maybe you've had no time at all. Your daemon warns you of a massive invasion coming from the West, the ocean where you first arrived.

When the violence makes land, it's shockingly similar to the exit from your original world, yet mashed in with the experiences and genres and world details of other refugees— soldiers in red armor wielding weapons of all kinds, both advanced and rudimentary; airships, bizarre monsters; firestorms and quakes that seem sentient in the way that they move, pursuing people through the beach and the forest. You see the injured and the dead, and people running in panic. Heat and gunfire break up the ordinary peace of wilderness, driving animals into stampedes and filling the sky with panicking birds.
There are children and doctors and engineers among the many refugees of Xistentia, and not everyone can fight back— but maybe you're one of those who can.
Think fast— that's a crimson spear launching at your head now.



The city's defenses are buckling too. While ordinarily, the civlization possesses unnatural physics that subvert violence, the onslaught starts to wear agains them. The only safe place is the Temple. Here, civilians and injured combatants are banding together to try and boost morale... which coincidentally also can boost the defenses of the land by with the energy collected from emotional connectivity. For better or worse, there is plenty of negative feeling to go around, the air thick with fear.
Whether you're recovering from injury or afraid to fight, you can still contribute here. Tell a story, sing a song, make a meal out of one of the cookfires started in the hallway, or even help with medicine. One thing is for certain: we're in this together.
NETWORK
Today, it's peace time. By now, the city of Xistentia has a population of over 500 people. Shops line the streets of downtown, and increasingly well-trodden paths will take you into the agricultural zones nearer to the forest or even down to the beach. There are still distinctive animal presences around— careful with that— but the most common critters you'll see are birds crapping on your stuff outside and tiny winged hairless people creeping your food.
One afternoon, you are taken from whatever you’re doing - taking a walk through the city, sunning yourself on the beach, running around in the forest shoring up defenses - by a message, appearing on your Daemon’s network screen. It’s a simple notification, that reads:
It would appear that your daemon accidentally sent a text message misfire.
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
hells yeah
Footnotes
- Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
- This is connected to the war plot, coming up in November. Please read the announcement for more information! Features include good, old-fashioned violence, hurt/comfort, and "drift compatibility."
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And in return, I let you frame me for all the mischief you made around the palace. And had your back when you pissed off the wrong people, didn't I?
[ loki was always too clever for thor to maneuver his way around when they'd been younger, even if he's grown wiser to it now. these days, it's more knowing loki and who he is and how he thinks that has him keeping up. ]
It evens out.
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It was a long time ago.
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Not that long. [ thor shrugs. ] Roughly a decade years in the face of a thousand?
[ still only a blink in comparison to their lifetimes. ]
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It felt longer to me. That's all.
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Years added in exhaustion, perhaps. [ how tired they'd become in this. ] Let it not be said a war with Loki of Asgard isn't a devastating and weary one.
[ thor's life has felt turned upside down since loki's revelation, and that first fight with him. ]
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I am hardly of Asgard anymore.
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You're always of Asgard. Maybe spend another thousand years as another planet's prince and another man's brother, and you might be able to claim otherwise.
[ sorry, booboo, he's claiming you, and since thor's of asgard, loki must be of asgard too. probably not the best or most comforting approach, but such is thor's nature. he's deeply possessive of the things and people close to his heart, and he refuses to call their childhood together invalid. ]
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What should I claim then?
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[ because he's being adamant about that. thor's head tilts, pondering it, as he swings mjolnir idly at his side, wandering through the trees towards the city. ]
Loki of Magic? Loki of Too Many Knives? Loki of Green Dresses? Oh, Loki of Back Seat Driving, that's a good one.
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Need I remind you that I wasn't the one fond of dresses when I was younger? That was all you, brother.
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[ thor turns back just enough to wave a pointed finger in the general vicinity of loki's clothes. ]
Two guesses and here's your bonus hint: it's not me.
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At least I don't trip over my robes.
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I'm sure your illusions are so convincing because of all the practice you got in covering up when you tripped over your robes.
[ he wouldn't be a very good big brother if he wasn't utterly infuriating, okay? ]
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Only you would come up with a demeaning use of my magic.
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[ he turns again, once more walking backwards so as to look back at his brother clearly. ]
Like when mother made us clean our rooms before going out to play? It took me hours, but you were done in ten minutes. [ thor shakes his head, tsk tsk. ] Illusions, wasn't it? Had to be.
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Or I actually took time to clean them instead of dumping it under my bed.
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[ nah, nope. u a damn lie. not really, though, because thor's just being difficult for the sake of being difficult right now. up until the point he walks backward into a tree trunk with a graceless umph, frowning at it like he's offended, before turning to walk properly, though more at loki's side now. ]
Mother caught onto that the first couple times I'd tried it, anyway. Had to switch to the closet.
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And then she caught that too. I never understood your aversion to cleanliness. The title of God of Thunder is wasted on you.
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I'd always thought it more chaotic than orderly.
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[ Loki eyes Thor's hair in distaste. ]
You couldn't find someone else to cut your hair while I was away?
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No one seemed up to the task. Frigga was occupied, and distraught besides. [ there were maids that would put braids into it after he bathed, but no one had suggested cutting into it. and thor... hadn't really asked. like he hadn't moved anything in loki's room, or done much of anything to really move past his absence. ]
I don't see that you've done any better with yours. [ you lookin' mighty hoboish these days, booboo. ]
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[ But Loki touches his edges of his hair all the same. Loki has always been self-conscious about his looks. It helps to hide his insecurities when it came to fitting in around Asgard. While they may not care as much, Loki found he needed to care. Whether it was an excuse to keep himself apart from the rest or simply a point to accept said differences.
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[ Thor tells him after a moment of forcibly holding in what he'd initially thought - "and who's doing is that". that gets them no where, and thor needs to focus on handling the issues at hand first, before getting into it with loki once more, for the millionth time. He tilts his head to look at his brother sidelong, frowning as he inspects his hair, even reaches out to take a clump between his fingers. ]
Did wherever you were going around lack soap as well? [ bruh u looking a lil greasy ]
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I wasn't going anywhere. I didn't know where to go.
[ It had been a fortunate accident that Loki landed in Xistentia. He hadn't really cared where he might end up. Anything was better than the void and at that time, Loki just wanted to get away. ]
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his brows knit, eyes casting to the side, and for a moment, that golden easiness and nonchalance filters away into something tense and uncertain, aching and lonely and bitter. thor clears his throat, tells himself it's only what should be expected. ]
I won't force you back, if that's what you're concerned for. [ he tells him, tone strong but mostly blank. a simple setting of terms. ] You're not harming anyone in a cell, but it's only a matter of time before you find a way out.
[ and thor does so much hate trying to ignore the knowledge that his brother is somewhere levels below, when he walks through the palace, cursing and spitting and raging against all he finds comfort and reassurance in. ]
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