let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-09-24 07:00 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2022-09-24 07:00 pm
Entry tags:
- 2ha: chu wanning,
- 2ha: mo ran,
- arc iv,
- arcane: caitlyn,
- arcane: vi,
- arcane: viktor,
- doctor who: river song,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- harry potter: hermione granger,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- legend of fei: xie yun,
- legend of fei: zhou fei,
- mcu: kamala khan,
- mcu: yelena,
- oh! my emperor: su xunxian,
- original: red,
- penny dreadful: vanessa ives,
- shadowhunters: alec lightwood,
- shadowhunters: magnus bane,
- star trek: christopher pike,
- star trek: jim kirk (aos),
- star trek: leonard mccoy (aos),
- star trek: spock,
- star wars: finn,
- the unwinding,
- umbrella academy: allison,
- umbrella academy: five,
- untamed: lan sizhui,
- untamed: wen qing,
- warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- warcraft: wrathion,
- warframe: kahl 175,
- x-men: charles xavier
the unwinding
Heya! Let loose for Serthica’s Unwinding — our event spanning 24 September-15 October that doubles as a test drive.
This round’s test drive participants do not require an invite to apply. Applications open over 8-14 October. Enjoy!
SPILL THE TEA | DRIP BY DRIP | ALL A DREA —
✘ NEWCOMERS | BARRELING IN
Soaring seagulls and splintered silence. You awaken on the shoreline of steampunk citadel Clockwork Serthica, recovered by the irritable witch Karsa.
She shares translation and communication devices, scarce healing and a rapid briefing: you have reached a world where undead forces seek to weaponise you in their battle for dominion. Karsa’s employer, the Merchant leads travel to beacons meant to return you home.
Other otherworlders have already infiltrated Serthica. Karsa steers newcomers into the impoverished underworld of the Mouse House, to board a rickety coal train serving the citadel.
- ■ Silver tongues can win you passage.
■ ...alternatively, hide in the obscenely large whiskey barrels the train also smuggles in.
■ Mid-voyage, the train quakes, slamming you into walls and windows. Around you, the stench of bleach, the warm crackle of embers and static magic that builds thick, nearly electric.
You feel faint and fainter, when you overhear Karsa’s murmured, “It’s too early” — “find” — “find” — “it’s like a drea” — “don’t unwind” — “all child’s play.”
✘ OLD TIMERS | INHALE-EXHALE
Eidris, Minaras, the Neutral Zone: all abuzz with residential whispers of imminent Unwinding — an annual fixture natives dread without fully remembering.
- ■ In the two days leading to the Unwinding, characters struggle to tell apart or remember the physical features of natives.
■ Some locals steal you into dark alleys, where they become suddenly stiff, emitting a rusty, guttural Ke-ke-ke sound. They do not recall this after.
The Unwinding kicks off at 6am, when both Eidris and Minaras are overground. Jim Kirk’s fixed music box begins to play, its chipper rural tune overtaking your thoughts: “Up the mountain, in the grove, hand in hand to Ke-ke-ke — Ke-Waihu, fresh harvest’s a treasure trove, each fall we feast anew.”
Earth shatters seismically underfoot, magic depletes, the citadel’s clock tower strikes 6:00 — and an urgent communication from the Merchant is interrupted by static, “You can we-we-we-…-stand it, the white man come — remembrrrrrrrrrrrr live, you are alive, do not be convinsssss —ssss — ssssd otherwisssssss —”
✘ DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
Down and down, you tumble, Alice — through a cavernous tunnel that widens and chokes arbitrarily. Sometimes you float and fly, sometimes you’re thrust sideways. Mostly, you keep falling.
- ■ Beware objects falling into you: from grand pianos to mystical balls of fire, stray beds, love letters and sharp-pointed weapons. Even a blood-spattered umbrella that shields against anything.
■ You’re dropped unceremoniously into an underground lair, as items keep falling down. Unclaimed, they disappear within minutes. Three jackalopes smoking opiate pipes point you indifferently towards a locked door. On its handle sit a bone dice and a note instructing, ROLL FOUR TO OPEN.
■ The dice can only be thrown every 10 minutes and feels too monstrously heavy to lift otherwise. Each roll makes the effect of the previous throw disappear. If you get:- one: gravity fades, the dice floats out of reach. ( The jackalopes enjoy the breeze. )
two: the floor, barring a few narrow steps at great jumping distance, is lava. ( The jackalopes check ‘hell’ off their vacation list.)
three: an irked dragon coils beside you. (The jackalopes prepare to tan.)
five: the thrower grows and grows and grows, until they must contort creatively to fit inside. ( The jackalopes charge rent. )
six: the room fills with water that nearly reaches the ceiling. (The jackalopes are competitive swimmers.)
seven: everything about your companion irritates you. They even breathe wrong. ( The jackalopes find this awkward. )
eight: The floor slowly expands into quicksand. ( The jackalopes hoverboard. )
■ Roll four and the door creaks merrily open. A second note slips loose, I’m sorry. Head in, your newfound possessions abandoned — and keep U n w i n d i n g. - one: gravity fades, the dice floats out of reach. ( The jackalopes enjoy the breeze. )
✘ SPILL THE TEA
You wake, dressed to the steampunk nines, at a tea party, alongside a companion and a slew of eerie guests: cog droids, faceless people and animated human-sized burlap mannequins. You only hear static and white noise when they speak.
When you leave the table, a fox butler passes you the empty kettle, asking you to, ”Make tea and finish here”.
- ■ You’re inevitably stuck in a decrepit dollhouse. Heavily boarded doors and windows ultimately open to show plague sickness in the streets. The fox butler closes them, reminding, ”He’ll make it go away.”
■ Travel a corridor of repeating rooms to reach the kitchens, and don’t dally. Every time the clock strikes a new hour, the partygoers grab their sharpest knife and stalk down the house to pursue you. The frenzy lasts 10 minutes before they return to their seats — barricade in deserted rooms, hide behind curtains or climb up the chimney…
■ For tea, the mannequin cook directs you to retrieve juniper and rosemary leaves from the greenhouse, where plant tendrils try to trap you, leaving marks of mould; rescue the milk container from a cat that’s running on the crumbling staircase, and sugar from a dish in the lavish nursery room, where ghostly hands might seek to drag you into walls and send you back down the rabbit hole.
■ Supplied, the huffing burlap cook prepares tea. Just as you’re about to taste the black brew at the party table, a man in white takes and spills your tea out in a plant pot. You only hear, ”You don’t need this yet” — before you’re U n w i n d i ng.
■ On exiting the Unwinding, your pockets burst with plants or leaves of juniper and rosemary. They can alleviate McCoy’s sickness.
✘ DRIP BY DRIP
You wake up in bloodied clothes in a filled bathtub. You are hounded by urgency, as if you’re hunted. The unease never wanes, as you gather your bearings and join the bustling city streets, armed with a blood-spattered white umbrella. In your pocket, two paper notes: CHILDREN LIE and WHAT IS HIS NAME?(
Your memories are confused: half of you is certain you are a content citizen of Serthica. The other riots that you don’t belong. An excruciating migraine strikes when you try to remember how you arrived here.
Gravity’s a loose concept: you walk, or you float. The city is either perfectly still, or inundated with the screeching of hearses and criers. Locals — all faceless, or man-sized burlap mannequins — mill busily, despite the forlorn rain.
- ■ Hold on to your umbrella: linger uncovered in the rain, and your facial features slowly fade, while you desperately try to convince your teammate that you should stay here forever. You recover once dry.
■ The inhuman locals grow increasingly more hostile with time: carriages want to run you over, friendly burlap shopkeepers push you into a ditch. They chase if you ask their name.
■ Happily, this world is vulnerable to your desires: wish gravity undone, and you can walk on walls. Think a river into being, and it bursts ahead. Imagine buildings, and they pop up. Playing God comes at a price of bad luck: the staircase you envisage thins and breaks just as you cross it, your knife rusts after the first swing.
■ Your pursuers abandon you, when you reach a deserted marketplace and encounter a drenched, battered boy wearing a fox mask. He is playing with paper boats in the middle of a large black puddle. You feel deep and building hatred for him.
■ Seeing you, the child mentions one of you previously tried to kill him. He offers his name, in exchange for your umbrella:
a. Refuse or dally, and dark hands rise out of the puddle to pull you and your partner in, scratching you bloody. The last thing you see, before you wake up in the bathtub again (or out of the Unwinding), is a man in white who collects your umbrella. He holds it over the child, scolding, ”Did you forget again? This one never hurt you.”
b. To surrender the umbrella, step on the paper boats as you cross the puddle to the boy. Walking straight on water feels like stepping on knives. The child accepts your umbrella, whispering his name is ”Hyang-Won”, before you start to fade out of the Unwinding.
✘ IT WAS ALL A DREA —
New or old, as the Unwinding ends, you wake up in Ma’am Mariol’s modest orphanage in the Mouse House. Mariol, the orphans and Serthica at large recall nothing about the Unwinding. Karsa, who dragged you in, is pale and exhausted, her memory patchy. She urges everyone to recuperate before heading back overground.
- ■ Your body shows only a fraction of any damage sustained in the Unwinding.
■ Ma’am Mariol’s labyrinthine home offers limited accommodations: share beds, floors, and household chores, while the orphans led by curious Gavroche, peer in.
NOTES
- ■ You can make network posts outside of the Unwinding.
■ Feel free to mark if you're a test drive tourist or an old timer in your top level!
■ The Unwinding is a shifting of realities not a dreamscape.
■ You can opt out of the Unwinding by keeping characters in the Mouse House. Here, nothing seems amiss.
■ QUESTIONS!
no subject
When he finally thinks he’s found a mostly empty room devoid of children hellbent on drawing on him, he closes the door triumphantly - but quietly - behind him. His triumph is short lived though as soon as he hears a smarmy, but oh so familiar voice. Said voice is sat beside a familiar face who had left him rather unceremoniously at the station and the sight of the both of them together is enough to draw his brows together in an angry and confused stare.]
You can’t be here.
[It’s not clear who he’s addressing. Could be his younger self. Could be Clara. Either way he’s stock still, back glued to the door.]
no subject
There's a five-second delay between her brain and what she's seeing. Blinking slowly, she pushes herself up on shaky legs that want to give out again already. She's staring, she knows she is, trying to make words come out of her throat where they're stuck. ]
You-
[ She feels like she's going to hyperventilate (her first panic attack?) and tries again even as he becomes a blur in front of her. There's no point in trying to keep her tears at bay so she lets them fall. ]
Me? What about you? You called me fr-
[ Before she can finish, movement catches her eye but it takes a moment for the voice to register because it's new. Turning to look at this Doctor she doesn't know, there's a quick change in her features from not knowing how to feel to absolutely pissed. Clara spins around on him and even though she's small, her attitude is mighty. ]
That is rich coming from you. Don't you dare tell me where I should and shouldn't be. You left me!
[ She doesn't mean to shout, and she doesn't mean for her voice to crack on the last word but it happens. Clara moves back and closer to her Doctor, the one she knows, the one she fought for. ]
no subject
Before he can fire back that question, Clara's responding to the angry man with obvious familiarity, the tension already quite palpable between them. Though he doesn't know what's happened between them, exactly, he's protective of Clara, and so he stands between them, leveling a concerned and questioning glare at the older man. ]
What's he done? What's happened? [ Those two questions are directed to Clara, over his shoulder.
Then, to the other man: ] Why don't we start with who you are, exactly, and an explanation as to why you think either one of us can't be here. There's hardly anywhere else to be at the moment, I don't know if you've noticed.
no subject
[ Clara's own flare of frustration is met with his own. But she isn't wrong. Her retort could be referring to anything that had happened to them considering what she's wearing. But he had left her with Vastra safe and sound – unless that was what she was mad about? He had business to take care of! Time Lord business that didn't need to involve her because she was already involved in a round about, twisty time way. But god he can't stand his younger self, talking to him with authority like he was some lesser version of him. ]
I'm you. I'm what comes next. That's why you can't be here. And you – [ He turns to Clara, bristles and haunches still up. ] I left you with Vastra. I was coming back for you. Why would I just leave you? Which by the way, thanks for leaving me at the station I had to climb into a whiskey barrel to get onto the train.
no subject
You made me feel scared and alone. You're not supposed to make me feel that way. Not you.
[ Clara steps closer, looking up at kind eyes and a soft face, then back at his regeneration, all anger and frown lines. ] The last thing I remember is passing out. My last thought was that you really left, and then I was here.
[ She hates that he made her think that, so much, but some of the fire has left her eyes knowing he did come back whenever he must have felt like it. But when she looks at him again it's clear she's still hurt. ]
You obviously made it, not a big surprise you couldn't talk your way on.
[ They've never sniped at each other like this before. It isn't bickering; she's hurt and confused about why he's not just physically different, but in ways that make her heart sink down into the acid of her stomach. ]
no subject
He'd rather not have known any of this, or at least, not have found out this way.
There's suddenly a lot to process all at once, though the Doctor stands between both Clara and...himself, as some sort of reluctant mediator. He'd really rather not be doing this right now. ]
Okay. Stop. Shut up, the both of you.
[ He does reach for Clara's hand, though, holding it briefly to tug on it. ]
Outside, now, before we discuss anything else. There are children here who won't understand why we're all upset and they don't need to worry.
[ He tugs Clara out gently, trusting himself to follow behind. Once outside, he keeps a hold of Clara's hand for her sake, if she needs it. Whatever's happened - and perhaps there's a reasonable explanation he's yet to learn at the moment - she was scared and alone, by her own admission. And here they are now, in this strange new world. For just a moment, he can offer comfort by the weight of his hand. It's really the only thing he has any control over just now. ]
Now, listen to me for a moment. No, you and I should not be in the same space together for very long, we both know why. But unfortunately we have no control over that here. No TARDIS, no sonic screwdriver, no way out of here, at least not anytime soon.
Obviously, I can't know all the details, but you both need to explain yourself so I have some measure of understanding about what happened before you arrived.
no subject
Somehow the younger him, the one the likes to wear bowties and fezes, being the mediator and the sensible one only serves to irk him. All of their incarnations had an ego, and they weren't always right despite liking to think they were, but he knew in this moment that the version of him holding Clara's hand was right. And that annoys him even more. But he doesn't argue, swallows his irk and follows them both moodily out the door trying to bury the annoyance.
When they're properly outside he lets out a snort but he explains it all – the regeneration, getting swallowed by a T-Rex and landing in Victorian London where they had to solve the disappearance of who knew how many people along with the murder of said T-Rex. He goes on to explain that he hadn't, in fact, left Clara behind with a mechanical race of aliens that were now unrecognizable in their quest to restore their ship the S.S. Marie Antoinette with human parts to reach the Promised Land – he had come back for Clara and Vastra and crew. The Mechanical Man had been dealt with although he leaves out how, and explains that he had left again to help with something important and ends his story abruptly at that.
He knows he can't tell his younger self what the important thing is. This in itself is already an anomaly that might have ripples when they left this place and he doesn't know when in their timeline he's from. There's one less furrow in his brow when he's done as he turns awkwardly to Clara. His annoyance had blotted it out but a surprising stab of hurt makes itself known as it dawns on him that she had thought he had genuinely left after everything they had been through. But he knows when he's wrong even if he's rubbish at apologizing for it. ]
Anything else you'd like to add? [ And then a beat later – ] I didn't mean to make you feel that way.
no subject
Once they're outside and the other begins to explain everything, her hand stays right where it's at. He did come back; she should feel bad for thinking he wouldn't (should she?), but she doesn't have it in her, not now. ]
I held my breath, waiting for you to meet me halfway. Do you know how hard it is to fight breathing?
[ More tears blur her vision; she has no idea when she last slept. The Doctor regenerated, everything happened that the Scottish one just described, and then Clara'd been dumped here. In a place where everything is fucked and the rules don't matter. Letting go of her anchor, both palms press into her eyelids until she sees stars, digging deep to find the last of her resolve to not - as her nan would say - throw a wobbly. Dropping her arms, her hand goes back to its mooring. ]
Fine. Apology accepted. Now what? Did all of us go through an absolute shite show? [ Her gaze flickers back up to look over that sorely missed floppy hair. ] And how long have you been here?
no subject
So what had happened?
Somewhere in there, is a deeper explanation for why his future self is...the way that he is.
Clara seems to be on the verge of tears and - oh, what does he do? He's not always the best at that. He feels helpless, quite a bit uncertain, and worried. Just as he starts to work out that perhaps a hug would be the best thing to offer, she seems to settle a bit and reach for his hand again. Okay, yes, the hand-holding he can do. That's familiar, at least. He even goes so far as to pat her hand with his other one for a moment. ]
How long is the question.
[ Yes, he's just repeating it back for a moment, and not actually giving an answer. Mostly because he's annoyed that he doesn't have an answer and he should. He's a Time Lord!! If anyone should know how long anyone has been here, it's him! But he doesn't, and he loathes that.
He also decides, after that pause, to simply not answer that question at all. Moving right along... ]
What you both need to know is what we're dealing with here. I understand what we've all been through just before arriving here, but there's more to tell you. [ He scrunches his nose up a little, in obvious annoyance. ]
There's too much to tell. Oh this would be so much faster if I could just share my memories with you. I can't, I haven't been able to here. Okay, just the both of you be quiet and listen for a moment because this is very important.
[ And so, he proceeds to give them what he perceives to be a short, condensed overview, but what of course amounts to a long and rambly story, because he's him. He explains everything he knows about the coal sickness, the warring citadels of Serthica, the dragons of Eidris, the strange mechanical beings of Minaras, the mannequins brought to life by dark water, music boxes that enchant creatures in the walls, and all points in between. ]
no subject
But then again, this entire experience in this strange, new, universe is making his brain go through more mental gymnastics than it had when he was trying to pinpoint the exact location and time he had to meet up with all the other versions of him to save Gallifrey.
Normally a puzzle like this would have been welcome with open arms. A puzzle meant a welcome distraction to not think more about why he felt so hurt about the whole scenario with Clara, and it would buffer the annoyance he was already feeling towards his younger self. But the fact that his younger self purposefully avoids the question about when is mildly concerning in and of itself. So, against his urge to do otherwise — he simply listens.
But god, did he really always talk that much? And veer off topic often? Couldn’t that sentence have been said with fewer words? Just because he’s listening doesn’t mean he’s not rolling his eyes. When he’s certain he’s done because it’s been several breaths since he last spoke, the Doctor lets out his own sigh as he drags his hand down his face. ]
So that roundabout explanation means that you — and everyone else that’s been sucked into this universe — don’t really know what’s going and that it’s like this often, if not all the time?
no subject
Not that different from traveling with you then, except we've been forcefully brought here, and every day is awful. Got it.
[ Amazing. Wonderful. She lets herself lean against the Doctor who still lets her, desperately wanting to close her eyes and sleep. Clara doesn't have anything left in her right now, but with both Doctors here (even if one makes her feel the way she did in the rabbit hole, falling forever and ever) there's a sense of feeling protected and like maybe she can rest. ]
no subject
Oh, no, not every day, Clara! Just every second Sunday and third Tuesday. Did you miss the part about there being dragons? And there are blue berries here that taste like vanilla and strawberries and cinnamon. Blue berries, not blueberries. See, good things? We'll find the good things together.
[ He's focused on her now, for a moment, because naturally, he always worries about his friends. His own self can...well, take care of himself. ]
no subject
He isn't certain he is anymore.
And while that would normally be a statement of fact he can't help but feel like he's intruding on the scene in front of him. This is being taken care of by his younger self. So he turns his back on them, pulling out the communicator that had been unceremoniously shoved into his hands before he had tried to board the train. It's only when he's certain that they're done that he addresses his younger self. ]
You said that the sonic doesn't work and our psychic powers don't work. Has our regeneration stopped working too?
no subject
When the new Doctor asks about regeneration, Clara's entire body stiffens, her hand going so tight around the fingers holding hers that she's sure she's hurting him. Her eyes move to the Doctor who asked and the worry, the fear in her eyes, is genuine. What if this was a one-time regeneration? What if he gets hurt here again and really dies? Then her gaze turns to the other. She hasn't pleaded with the Time Lords yet, she hasn't begged them to give him more time. If he can't regenerate will she lose them both? The man in front of her may not be the one she remembers, but he really is the Doctor, which means she doesn't want anything to happen to him.
She should ask all of her questions aloud, but instead, she waits on an answer she isn't sure she wants to hear. ]