Phantasmal Rift Mods (
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TEST DRIVE 003
Hello, and welcome to the third test drive for Phantasmal Rift!
Test drive threads are assumed to be game canon for accepted characters unless otherwise noted, so don't feel like you'll have to introduce yourself a second time to everyone you meet! As an added bonus, participation in the test drive comes with the chance to earn up to two items of loot for your trouble! Characters who are accepted can earn one item for having a top level, and one for tagging out to someone else's top level! Your SWEET LOOT will be included with your acceptance notice.
Additionally, characters currently in game can earn themselves a piece of bonus loot for the dungeon by tagging people's top-levels on the test drive! Existing characters get their bonus loot along with the rest of their loot at the conclusion of the dungeon.
This test drive takes place in the Fissure known as Amesta Forest - a forest filled with silver mist and shrouded in eternal twilight, where your dreams become real! For a certain limited definition of real. This is significantly less awesome than it sounds. On the bright side, anyone within the mists will find themselves with no need to sleep, as though trapped in the same spring evening as the rest of the forest.
OPTION ONE: DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
This first option might happen to you just about anywhere. From the swirls of silver mist comes a shape - or perhaps more than one shape? Who knows, it's your dream -
Well, probably. It could also be someone else's.
Those who stay too long in any one part of the mist will find their subconscious minds influencing it into shapes - the exact sort of things that appear in their dreams. As with their real dreams, the details are sometimes strange - too much detail, or not enough, depending on where your focus is. The character who 'created' the dream specter will instantly understand what it's supposed to be, but other viewers might have some difficulty with it.
Fortunately for those of you prone to violent nightmares, these dream figures are incapable of doing harm - any blows struck by them simply leave behind the dampness of walking through thick mist. A hard enough blow will similarly disperse them - or, in most cases, you can simply move quickly and leave them behind.
OPTION TWO: THE MOVEMENTS OF THE TREES
A forest filled with mist is honestly a kind of spooky place, isn't it?
Well, it's about to get spookier, when you notice that there's a tree... somewhere there wasn't a tree, before. Or maybe it's that you were looking around and realized that a tree wasn't there here there was one before, instead leaving behind only a round, torn-up patch of earth from where the roots were buried.
Either way, there's only one conclusion to be drawn - the trees are moving.
Those who pay close attention will soon realize that it's only one kind of tree that moves - an absolutely unfamiliar kind, with mist-silver bark and thin, almost translucent leaves in large handlike shapes. They aren't very tall, and their branches split low to the ground, the structure something like a less crooked Japanese maple. The Wanderwoods seem prone to following specific people, usually only moving when out of sight, though you might catch them shuffling along if you have quick reflexes for looking over your shoulder.
What do they want? Well, nothing, really. They're just attracted to sapient beings and, especially, the way the mist forms into their dreams. So while they won't do anything in particular to the characters themselves, anyone with a dream-form hanging around them might find that manifestation suddenly papered in thin, grabbing leaves... and swallowed up.
OPTION THREE: WHAT NOW IS FOUND?
Not all of the forest is trapped in eternal spring. One part of it is held in exactly the opposite - a brilliantly colored autumn morning, just before dawn, with the trees overhead colored in brilliant reds and oranges. Leaves drift down in a slow breeze, and pile up in random places among the trees (which never seem to run out of leaves to drop), and silver pools of water gather at the bases of the trees and in any other depressions, their surfaces perfectly still mirrors.
The mist is quite a bit thinner here, too, which allows you to see... What is that familiar shape in the distance, between the trees?
While dream manifestations are uncommon in the region of Fall's Heart, it's not only dreams that manifest here. Instead, characters will see the figures of those they've lost - instantly recognizable, but unreachable and nearly impossible to catch, running through the trees heedless of how you call after them. It's impossible to catch up to them by mundane means, and those who use supernatural means to do so -
- will find that, at their touch, the vision crumbles into silvery mist-water, forming another of those perfect, reflective pools at their feet.
Test drive threads are assumed to be game canon for accepted characters unless otherwise noted, so don't feel like you'll have to introduce yourself a second time to everyone you meet! As an added bonus, participation in the test drive comes with the chance to earn up to two items of loot for your trouble! Characters who are accepted can earn one item for having a top level, and one for tagging out to someone else's top level! Your SWEET LOOT will be included with your acceptance notice.
Additionally, characters currently in game can earn themselves a piece of bonus loot for the dungeon by tagging people's top-levels on the test drive! Existing characters get their bonus loot along with the rest of their loot at the conclusion of the dungeon.
This test drive takes place in the Fissure known as Amesta Forest - a forest filled with silver mist and shrouded in eternal twilight, where your dreams become real! For a certain limited definition of real. This is significantly less awesome than it sounds. On the bright side, anyone within the mists will find themselves with no need to sleep, as though trapped in the same spring evening as the rest of the forest.
OPTION ONE: DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
This first option might happen to you just about anywhere. From the swirls of silver mist comes a shape - or perhaps more than one shape? Who knows, it's your dream -
Well, probably. It could also be someone else's.
Those who stay too long in any one part of the mist will find their subconscious minds influencing it into shapes - the exact sort of things that appear in their dreams. As with their real dreams, the details are sometimes strange - too much detail, or not enough, depending on where your focus is. The character who 'created' the dream specter will instantly understand what it's supposed to be, but other viewers might have some difficulty with it.
Fortunately for those of you prone to violent nightmares, these dream figures are incapable of doing harm - any blows struck by them simply leave behind the dampness of walking through thick mist. A hard enough blow will similarly disperse them - or, in most cases, you can simply move quickly and leave them behind.
OPTION TWO: THE MOVEMENTS OF THE TREES
A forest filled with mist is honestly a kind of spooky place, isn't it?
Well, it's about to get spookier, when you notice that there's a tree... somewhere there wasn't a tree, before. Or maybe it's that you were looking around and realized that a tree wasn't there here there was one before, instead leaving behind only a round, torn-up patch of earth from where the roots were buried.
Either way, there's only one conclusion to be drawn - the trees are moving.
Those who pay close attention will soon realize that it's only one kind of tree that moves - an absolutely unfamiliar kind, with mist-silver bark and thin, almost translucent leaves in large handlike shapes. They aren't very tall, and their branches split low to the ground, the structure something like a less crooked Japanese maple. The Wanderwoods seem prone to following specific people, usually only moving when out of sight, though you might catch them shuffling along if you have quick reflexes for looking over your shoulder.
What do they want? Well, nothing, really. They're just attracted to sapient beings and, especially, the way the mist forms into their dreams. So while they won't do anything in particular to the characters themselves, anyone with a dream-form hanging around them might find that manifestation suddenly papered in thin, grabbing leaves... and swallowed up.
OPTION THREE: WHAT NOW IS FOUND?
Not all of the forest is trapped in eternal spring. One part of it is held in exactly the opposite - a brilliantly colored autumn morning, just before dawn, with the trees overhead colored in brilliant reds and oranges. Leaves drift down in a slow breeze, and pile up in random places among the trees (which never seem to run out of leaves to drop), and silver pools of water gather at the bases of the trees and in any other depressions, their surfaces perfectly still mirrors.
The mist is quite a bit thinner here, too, which allows you to see... What is that familiar shape in the distance, between the trees?
While dream manifestations are uncommon in the region of Fall's Heart, it's not only dreams that manifest here. Instead, characters will see the figures of those they've lost - instantly recognizable, but unreachable and nearly impossible to catch, running through the trees heedless of how you call after them. It's impossible to catch up to them by mundane means, and those who use supernatural means to do so -
- will find that, at their touch, the vision crumbles into silvery mist-water, forming another of those perfect, reflective pools at their feet.
Mercy | Overwatch | OTA
[It's jarring, to say the least. Like a sudden dream - and Angela is of the firm belief that dreams should never be sudden. The mist obscures her view and with the crowding trees it makes her feel sort of claustrophobic. She has to take care to keep her suit's wings free of the lower hanging branches.]
[It feels like days that she wanders, using the most unusual trees as landmarks to tell where she's been and where she hasn't. These odd silvery trees, with leaves like hands and low branches. It doesn't even cross her mind that they could be moving, making her walk in circles, keeping her thoroughly lost in this mist-shrouded forest.]
[In fact, this one tree has been moving itself in such a way that Angela has now made four left turns at the "tree with the broken branch". It is either playing with her or just a real bitch of a tree.]
[Please, someone fill this poor woman in, she's so lost.]
ii: and i might say, "you were wrong to take it from me..."
CW: Illness, injury, death mentions.
[She remembers every single one of them.]
[Their names, their faces, their ailments - even the last words she heard them speak, if they got that luxury. Every patient Angela Ziegler has lost has haunted her thoughts all her life. So when she sees the first one, peeking out from behind a tree in the distance, it cements her idea that this is all a dream. It has to be, unless there's an afterlife and she's found herself trapped in her own personal hell.]
[Angela tries to keep calm, keeping her pace steady as she strides along, but her hand tightens more around her staff with each familiar face she sees. Bullet wound, that one. Explosive damage, the next. Cancer. Torn up by a Bastion unit, just a child, and that one- God, why were they running? Why did they have to run from her now? Was she a monster to them for her failures? The last thing they saw, their last hope of living, and she failed them.]
[Finally, under the weight of every lost life, every failure...she folds. Crumpling to her knees, staring at her reflection in a silvery pool of water in front of her, she starts to cry. Her face remains calm, but the tears come without resistance. She doesn't have it in her to hold them back. There's a numbness that comes with crying for her. A defense mechanism, to keep herself from feeling weak and to allow her to bounce back quickly in case of an emergency. So although she can hear herself mumbling, she isn't fully in control of the words that come out.]
I'm sorry. I did all I could. I really did, you have to believe that. All of you, you have to believe that.
[Don't run from me anymore, please.]
II
Ma'am...?
[He'll respectfully maintain his distance, just in case, but... her words tug at his heartstrings.]
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Oh, my apologies.
[Although her English is quite good, she has an accent. Swiss-German to the discerning ear. Clearing her throat, she wipes the tears from her cheeks hastily and rises to her feet. To be honest, she'd rather be alone with her thoughts for a while. But it would be impolite to tell someone to leave for no good reason, even in a dream.]
I did not think anyone else would be here.
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[That was clearly a rather personal moment. Part of him feels like it may have been better to let her have some time to herself.]
My original intent coming over was to make sure you weren't injured. I didn't mean to overhear something so personal.
[It's not the full truth, the first part in particular, but the second bit is genuine. He coughs awkwardly into one hand.]
If you'd prefer, I can leave you to your thoughts...?
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It's alright, I did not mean to have such a personal moment, truth be told.
[Even though he says he's willing to leave, she feels bad telling him to go. The curse of being too polite and putting others ahead of yourself. So instead, she offers a conversational piece.]
May I ask who you are? I didn't think one could see someone they've never met in a dream.
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[He offers a smile in return, though it's tinged with sheepishness.]
This place certainly feels like a dream, but I'm afraid it isn't. It's a little difficult to explain...
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[His words catch her off guard. She doesn't think he's lying, per se, but she has...doubts.]
It would be impossible for this to be anything but a dream. I'm seeing apparitions of the dead and I was in Gibraltar just moments before arriving here. The only alternatives are that this is an afterlife and I have been unceremoniously killed, or that I have been drugged. Both of which I personally find quite unlikely.
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[Well, one specifically in this area, but he'd rather not talk about the ones he's seen before now... One's particularly embarrassing.]
I've kind of willingly walked into this place though, so that's on me. [He scratches the back of his head.]
You've been pulled here through an unstable part of reality called a Fissure--I'm aware it sounds unbelievable, but... well, there are multiple people even in this forest who can confirm what I'm saying.
[... If he's being quite honest with himself, he's still not expecting her to buy it.]
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[Or maybe she's been pulled through an unstable fissure in reality. Who's to say.]
Let's say you are correct. These...Fissures. What exactly are they? And what causes them, do you know?
[Perhaps if she has a better understanding of what they are, she'll have an easier time believing it. Besides, the implications of such a phenomenon distract her from the tight knot in her chest and the continuous urge to cry. She's having a Time.]
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ii;
[He wasn't expecting to see her, here. He wasn't expecting to see anyone, here, but he has. More than he was expecting.
(Sojiro Shimada was a proud, honorable man with a soft-spot for tall tales, and his silhouette is one Genji could have never forgotten. But try as he might his father always seemed to keep out of reach - could a man who faded away like he did have managed such a thing, even in his prime?)
But Angela, she's not running from him the way his father did, or the way- the way others have. She's on her knees, with tears streaming down her face, and...
And he's not sure he's even seen her cry. It's been years since he saw her last, and it's not like they were on the best of terms when he left Overwatch, but...
He's forgiven her. He's concerned. Who wouldn't be? Someone as strong as the woman who built him piece by piece seeming so hollow...It's unnatural.]
Who are you talking to...?
[Does he even have the right to ask? They've started up a correspondence again, but...
Does that give him the right to know who she mourns for?]
HOW DARE YOU
[Angela raises her head slowly, terrified that she's imagining it. But no, there he is. Genji Shimada. Another patient she lost, in a way. Sure, he had survived the procedure, due in no small part to many sleepless nights and months of physical therapy. But at what cost to him? At what cost to her?
But he looks solid, and he's not running, and he's so much closer than the other apparitions. And he looks well. The relief that floods through her is brief but it's enough to give her the strength to wipe away her tears and clear her throat.]
Genji. My apologies, I did not expect...
[Her voice sort of trails off into a sigh. Is there a point in trying to hide it? He's already seen the tears, already knows the facade of the unbreakable doctor is just that - a false front. It's an act for his benefit, but she squares up her shoulders and forces a weak smile.]
I was speaking to...well, myself, mostly. But also to them.
[She gestures all around her, to the figures out of reach, off in the trees, staring at her even now. Can he see them, too, in this shared dream?]
<3
So it's not just him seeing ghosts in the trees, faces of people who have long since left. He's not alone, trapped in this dream of never quite being able to cross the space between them.
That doesn't make him feel any better, but it means he understands, now. Even the mighty will crumble in the face of everything that's been taken from them.]
I do not think the people you see are people who are truly here.
[His father died long ago, after all. His brother...is more complicated than that, but the ache is just the same. Perhaps it stings even more, after seeing him again.]
Or the ones I do.
[His voice is light, but it's just as much of a front as Mercy's smile.]
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[She takes a deep breath, steadying the roiling ball of emotions in her chest. She pushes herself to her feet, turning to face him - could they be considered friends? She'd like to think so. Stooping down, she picks up her staff, brushing leaves from the handle.]
I am sorry that you are subject to these visions as well. They may not be real, but they are not pleasant, either, if they are similar to my own.
[There's no point in trying to dodge the initial question, though, which was "who are you talking to". So she stares at her hands, gripping her staff tight like it's her only tether to stability. When she manages to speak, her voice is small.]
I was speaking to the patients I failed to save, to be truthful. I see them in the trees. They run from me.
[The tears threaten to start again, but a steadying breath keeps her calm.]
And I see you, so perhaps I am simply seeing all that I have lost.
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But the chase, the regrets, the choking feelings of regret and desperation. Is that something they should simply disregard?
He thinks of Zenyatta, of talking about the merits of accepting the discord within yourself and finding harmony in the chaos, and he wonders what he would say of a forest like this.]
I see my father. And my brother.
[He turns, giving Angela her privacy, the green glow of his visor lighting up the mist.
He wonders if out there is the man he used to be. He lost himself then, too. ]
They run from me as well, but I think that's what they'd do anyways.
[Again, his tone is light. He's a different man then he used to be. He's changed. He can see the humor in things again, and there's a small, soft laugh.]
You didn't do a very good job of losing me if I'm talking to you right now.
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I simply meant that in doing what I did, I failed to save the man that you were. I felt that although I'd saved your life, I had taken something from you. In some ways that took something from me, as well.
[What was the danger of confessions in a dream? She was talking to her subconscious, wasn't she? She lets out a breath of laughter herself, amused by how forthcoming she is when she's just trying to make sense of things.]
I was a coward to do what I did to you, but I always hoped you would heal mentally and emotionally one day. It's no wonder I dream of you in this condition.
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He wanted them to suffer, the people who rebuilt him almost from scratch. He wanted them to have their humanity stripped just as his had been.
But things have changed. He's learned, now, with the help of Zenyatta's stubborn sort of patience, that nothing had been taken from him. Things were just replaced in new ways.]
Angela. [Not Dr. Ziegler. Not now. This is too personal.] You saved my life. You should not be sorry for doing such a thing, even though I could not be grateful for it then.
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I should have never agreed to make the modifications I did. I was so afraid they wouldn't let me help you at all if I didn't...
[Her voice trails off. If I didn't turn you into a weapon. If I didn't tear out all shreds of choice and make your body a machine for killing. If I didn't agree to irreparably warp the life I was being allowed to save.]
I am not sorry that you are alive, or that I had a part in keeping you that way, but I am sorry that I allowed fear to cloud my judgement. I put you through hell for selfish reasons, Genji. I sometimes wonder if I have done more harm than good to your life.
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I
The trees move. Only some of them, though. Makes this place a hell of a maze.
Are you okay?
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O-Oh! Apologies, I did not expect to find anyone else here. Yes, I'm quite fine, thank you. You said the trees...move?
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I am Pidonus, and welcome to a slightly weirder realm. And by 'slightly' I mean 'massively'.
There's a bunch of people like us - and now you, and probably other new arrivals on top - who have wound up stuck here thanks to spatial warping weirdness. People from many worlds, with many distinct capabilities, who are trying to work together to restabilize the realm more in hopes of finding our way home.
I... Honestly don't know where to start beyond that, beyond that if you need immediate safety and your existence isn't anathemical to magic I can provide shelter; otherwise, the logical goal is probably getting you back to the station.
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Pardon?
[Angela laughs sharply. It's more of a nervous tic than an aggressive move, and she hopes it comes across as such. There's a lot to unpack there. Especially because this all sounds a whole lot like "This isn't a dream, get wrecked."]
Spatial warping? Stabilize the realm? What on Earth are you talking about?
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And I'm gonna guess 'Earth' is your world or a specific place thereof? Because you attached more significance to it than, you know, the dirt we're standing on.
... That probably does not help too much, either, though, huh...
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[There's a little panic rising in her chest, but she squashes it before it can get out of control. This is a lot to absorb, if it's true. She searches for something to make sense of - the station, perhaps. Like...a research station? And outpost for displaced folks like herself? A security station?]
What kind of station are you referring to?
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We're doing what we can to make it less uncomfortable, obviously, but...
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[That would be something familiar in this...well, it doesn't seem to be a dream. She's choosing to accept that as reality and react accordingly. The worst that can happen is that she wakes up at some point and feels a little silly.]
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