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yongenjaya2017-10-16 10:16 pm
scaleless) wrote in yongenjaya2017-10-16 10:16 pm
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EXITVOID 101
✘ What is Exitvoid?THE SHIP: CHARON
A horror game from approximately a million years ago, which ran in yearly phases, each with a different setting. This meme is based off Beta, set aboard the Charon. It's an easy jamjar premise—you've been kidnapped from your own reality by COMPASS, a company with unambiguously villainous intent, with no foreseeable way home—so don't sweat the details if you weren't around for the original run.
✘ What is the Charon?
The enormous, rusting cruiser the game was set aboard, which is constantly voyaging across an endless sea with no foreseeable destination. The only food available is canned, creamed corn.
✘ What is a docking event?
The ship would regularly dock at different worlds based on various canons, often a mish-mash of all the entries in a franchise (e.g. Silent Hill's docking event was not based off any one game, instead borrowing from across the board).
✘ Why didn't you include [this other event I really liked]?
It's a meme, wildcard it! Here is the old write-up tag. My personal recs are Pan's Labyrinth, Jurassic Park, and to come off the tails of It, Stephen King world.
✘ Anything else?
Warn appropriately, and be respectful of people's permissions posts, comfort levels, etc. Also, please put "Hauntings Okay" in your subject line if you're fine with someone dropping in with a surprise! I probably won't for most threads, but :U you never know.
✘ Is EV coming back? Why is this happening? Do I have to have played in the game to be here? Is this restricted to anybody?
No, this is just for fun! It's October and I'm feeling nostalgic. It's a meme, so do whatever you want with whoever you'd like. For the record, you don't have to know me to play, and feel free to share with friends. Happy Halloween!
✘ CONTENT WARNING: The Food prompt contains body horror and insects.
The VoidDOCKING EVENT: SILENT HILL
✘ Full Write-Up
The Charon begins its venture into the void, and nothing about it is meant to support life. Especially the air: breathing and traversing the acidic mist swirling inside the ship only causes a tingling irritation at first, then an itch, then peeling and coughing—soon, characters are left to deal with full-on chemical burns, with only a few syringes with cures and bandages between them.
Though for once, it seems like food and alcohol are plentiful.
FEAST OR FAMINE
✘ Full Write-Ups: Drink and Food
I. In the void (see prompt above), alcohol is tainted—anyone who drinks it will have a drug in their system that increases aggression and paranoia. Rather than change their personalities outright, this drug exacerbates whatever violent tendencies they have, urging on their fears and insecurities to take out on those around them. For those trapped in the acid air, it's only a matter of time before someone snaps.
Non-alcoholic drinks will turn to blood as soon as they pass a character's lips.
II. Another day, it's the food that causes problems. After months of subsisting off only canned, creamed vegetables, characters will be invited to the Captain's feast. Of course, it comes with a hefty price tag; that squash salad you had? It must've been infested with something, because now there's something crawling under your skin—literally. Black wasps will find homes inside these feast-goers, buzzing all the while. Or maybe you had the poached prawns, and now your skin's turning transluscent, hair and nails going loose? The possibilities for side effects are as endless as the number of dishes.
Those that do not attend the feast will find that food turns to ash in their mouths.
THE HOLDS
✘ Full Write-Up
The power grid is down, and characters must find replacement pieces in the dark cargo holds of the ship before it sinks. Every other person is equipped with a strange lantern. Be warned: when the internal battery dies, it will only remain lit in someone's hands, slowly leeching their strength.
And you'll need them, because dark snakes slither about the lower, waterlogged decks; these serpentine, skeletal creatures are invulnerable in the darkness and lightning quick, grabbing victims with their enormous claws. Captured prey is bathed in the snakes' bioluminescence, lulling them into a sense of warmth and security as their body heat and life force is drained out of them, leaving them frozen husks.
Hitting the snakes with a beam of light will force them to release their targets; this is also the only way to get any hits in, so don't go out there alone.
Full write-up here.
✘ CONTENT WARNING: Silent Hill contains body horror, violence, gore, mentions of sexual and physical abuse, and generally graphic content. Everything below is tame, but be warned when exploring Wikis, etc.
FOG WORLD
The town of Silent Hill is filled with an oppressive fog, muting sight and sound, lending to a feeling of alienation and quiet. But that doesn't mean you're alone—lurking in the fog and dilapidated buildings are monsters of all shapes and sizes.
Compasses (the network device) will let out a static noise when any monsters are in the vicinity, but don't let it give away where you're hiding. Sometimes, it's wiser to run.
Here were some of our monster picks, though of course you can go wild with it. Make up your own if you want!
OTHERWORLD
Sometimes, a siren will blare in the distance, and the world around you will start to peel apart, like paint off rust, revealing a completely different dimension. This Otherworld is a parallel universe, specifically tailored to a character's fears and unabsolved sins—in short, a personalized hellscape. The area will still bear distinct similarities to the real world, but spaces that were safe before can be distorted beyond recognition, or filled with new dangers. Otherworlds can also force characters to confront their wants, desires, and regrets—Silent Hill unearths and materializes aspects of themselves they want to leave buried or refuse to acknowledge.
Characters can be sucked into and escape Otherworlds together, or exit one only to enter another. Choose your company carefully, though—those that feel no remorse or guilt over their pasts may just become monsters in the Otherworld themselves.
SILENT HILLS (2017)
While most of Silent Hill is falling apart with age, unkempt and uncared for, amidst it all is one strangely pristine home. But once characters enter this suburban refuge, they'll notice something's off—no matter what corner they turn, the space looks familiar, looping in on itself endlessly. The house grows more and more menacing with each repetition—the lights turn red. Photo frames are turned down on their faces, a flight of stairs appears with someone at the top. A figure lies beyond a window that can't be cracked, looking in. A pervasive feeling of being followed clings to everyone here—and what's that waiting at the end of the hall?
Recommended viewing: Silent Hills Playable Demo.
EXPLORE THE TOWN
If you need some more inspiration, try the map (click rooms on the image to explore).
no subject
write me a starter, nerd )
no subject
I take this back
no subject
except with more horror
groans, okay getting back on the yolo wagon
Or worse. One minute—she'd been fighting off a few split-faced things that were looking more and more like the Fetch Process they'd left behind when one of those sirens had split the air and something bigger had scrambled the world on him and then...nothing. He can't even remember when he'd blacked out. And now—a minute or an hour or a day later—now, the world swims back into place. Slow and flickery.
The Transistor hums back to equilibrium again as he gets his bearings. He punctuates it with a staticy groan.]
Ugh. [Worse than the Spine by a mile. But whatever had been causing it seems to be gone, because it's fading. Kind of hoping he wasn't going to have to get used to this kind of thing.] Hi.
[He looks for Red, immediately. And he can see her, if he looks up, still holding the Transistor at her side. (Good, the fading dizzy part of him thinks. Good. That's what matters. Right now—right now, that's all that matters. They can't afford to worry about much else.)
Been hard to get a read on this place, even when he's having a good day. This is...maybe not shaping up to be one of his best. Even by low-bar Charon standards. He tries to will away the lingering lag in his senses and his good sense, but it sticks stubbornly on the edges, fuzzing out the Transistor's new attempts at scanning the area, (entrances, exits, User Status, available Functions, Process eliminated—) throwing disorienting errors back at him when he tries to make sense of it.
It can wait, for now. He can still look around the old fashioned way. (Well. Sort of.) The scenery is familiar—so he probably wasn't out for that long. But it looks significantly worse off than it did last he saw it. Collapsed, in some places. Flat out gone in others.]
Wow. Guess I went and missed the big—
[He stops short, there. Because his senses catch up to his mouth all of a sudden and far too slowly, and he realizes there's something sort of wrong in her posture. If nothing else, it sobers him up fast. Like a damn cold shower. Is she hurt? There'd been— Gone now, though, aren't they?
(But if she's hurt— If she's hurt, he'll—
Well. He'll what.)
Funny how dry your mouth can go even when you don't strictly have one, anymore. How thin the fake facsimile of air can feel. But he keeps his tone as easy as he can until she acknowledges him.]
Hey...Hey, Red— You okay?
no amount of process meta could have prepared me for the amount of yolo i have to do
She swallows down in the lump in her throat as she fights. Getting knocked out here means both of them are goners, and Red hasn't made it this far only to let a ( horrifying, nightmarish ) creature ( with red eyes, parts of it turning angular and white ) take her down. She ignores the alien feeling in her gut, tries to focus on fighting instead of the lack of a static-y, but constant voice from the Transistor.
It works, for the most part. She's alive, and they're dead ( if someone had told her a year ago she'd be fighting things from nightmares with a sword that can paint an entire city, she would've laughed at them ). Mostly. There's a gash on her thight and briefly her head feels like it's filled with static, but the cut isn't too deep and the feeling passes immediately. So, fine, for the most part, with hopefully enough time for her to find somewhere safe. She can walk, even if "walking" now including a limp.
( She begins to look for the Highrise, because the skyline is familiar. Whether she realizes it or not. She's moving for the sake of moving, by this point, and any decisions are instinctive ( mostly ). )
Except the static returns the moment Boxer speaks. What should be relief goes hand in hand with pain, and her teeth bare as her eyebrows furrow. Turns her head away as she continues to limp forward, because Boxer doesn't— need to see it. Not yet. Not until her expression is smoother. She only needs a few seconds while he picks up that something isn't entirely right, but that's more than enough to hide the worst of it.
( Even if he found out— what could he do? )
She lets out a small huff, uses her free hand to gesture at the bloody waist. Pulls up her dress to her thighs to show mostly dried blood. It's not bleeding anymore, is the point. She's trying to tell him that she's fine, because she is. Especially once she can turn back to smile, quiet and reassuring and reserved just for him ( and her eyes flash red instead of blue, like the center of the sword ). ]
you literally asked for this
But she acknowledges him, finally. (Even flashes a little thigh, how risque, though he's not much in the mood to joke about propriety.) The blood on her dress is alarming—this isn't Cloudbank, they aren't safe, and she'll need time and care to heal—and so is the limp. But the Transistor is coming back online properly and the streets seem empty, and at a glance from down here she seems okay, otherwise. So—]
Ouch. [Sympathetically, as she drops the hem of her skirt back down. Could be worse, he reminds himself. Just need to keep it that way.] Close shave. Think we're out of the woods, for now. Ought to find somewhere to—
[He stutters off. Hardly even registers the odd light in her eyes, because the Transistor has finished reasserting itself and reached up for her status. A little low on the vitals, but not terribly. It's the stark white 8% PROCESSED fitting into place on the overlay that freezes his words in his throat in mute and uncertain horror.
He is silent, maybe a second too long not to seem odd.]
...Red? [Again. There's something quietly rattled in it, this time. But he holds back, like he doesn't want to worry her prematurely, like he doesn't know whether he wants to give the obvious explanation a voice. Like he's hoping there's some mistake. (Does she see it? 8%... And Sybil, she'd— What the hell does it really mean?)
Eventually, he opts for the simple.]
Hey, you seeing this?
[First things first.]
i did, and now i'm back a billion weeks later
Which means — she'll take it. Give a barely susceptible nod, just a small dip of her chin, as she readjusts the grip on the Transistor. Hears the tell-tale scrape and spark of the blade as she drags it on the road.
Not that the peace lasts long.
She sees it nearly the same time he does. The cold, mechanical assessment of the Transistor, as it notifies its surroundings ( as always ). She can't quite remember the last time she's seen the word Processed in the interface. Maybe it's fitting, considering what's been throwing itself at her since coming here —
But this complicates things ( her chest tightens, her stomach feels like lead; how long does she have, how can she get rid of it? ). Immensely. She barely notes the strange way his voice twists, barely notes what he says. Already trying to think of ways to fix this, because she's not going to be taken down like Sybil or the city, she won't, not with him still here.
( Maybe, maybe— maybe he'll understand if she were to find a nice, quiet alley way to sit in. It's not the best view, she knows, but what other option does she have? )
She can wait, at least. Nothing feels different yet, except the way her anxiety seems to grip her. She glances down at the Transistor ( at Boxer ), and gives a small, closed lipped smile.
She sees it. She's fine. They'll figure something out, one way or the other. ]