TDM 001

[erkumods]

TDM 001: TFLU

( 1 ) After leaving the teleportation chamber, you are gently coaxed out of the hospital and encouraged to find a place to stay. Maybe you've had time to check out your A5 app. Maybe you're just settling in. It's cloudy, overcast, cold -- you'll want to seek out someplace warm. Also, your device is beeping. A lot. The tech on the island works, it just doesn't work right. You can't seem to send a message to the correct person. It's time for... Texts From Last Universe ( 2 ) What's this? Your bingo card has just been beamed to a stranger's inbox...?! ( sample A5 cards -- NSFW, may contain triggering content, please feel free to use/ignore as you see fit) ( 3 ) And now you're receiving messages from other users that they don't remember sending: Nice shirt. It would look better on my floor. 10/10 would ride it into the sunset. This user thinks you're attractive. u up? 🍆 ( 4 ) Once you figure out that the robots have been hacking your devices, it's no easy feat to track one down and demand they stop. "So The Augur wills!" they wail in a monotone. "So it is done!" Any attempt to actually contact The Augur and get back into the hospital will be met with beefy robot bodyguards, who suggest taking a gentler approach to fix your devices. If you know what they mean. Wink. (This is your overt kink prompt. Please label any threads accordingly.) Note: All prompts are optional. The theme for this TDM is "malfunctioning devices." They can be fixed by indulging in the squares on your cards. For the sake of the TDM, you can use one of the pre-generated examples or a wildcard from the kink list. This can be used as a free bingo square completion once you have been accepted into the game. Players are welcome to wildcard their own TDM prompts; we only ask that you try to stick to the theme. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

geralt of rivia | the witcher | ota

[decoctions]

I. technical difficulties

[ Here's an image: fully armored, two swords, cat eyes and all, Geralt makes a deeply anachronistic (and sort of ridiculous) picture sitting on a rusting stool he'd collected from a dilapidated house, balanced precariously on only three legs rather than the four it was clearly intended to have. He's near enough to see the hospital without being disturbed by its comings and goings, and outwardly unconcerned by the less than ideal weather conditions. Privately however, he's annoyed by the occasional sprinkling rain and chill in the air. Witchering is far from a comfortable trade, but anyone would prefer a warm fire and mug of ale to this shit. His legs are stretched out in front of him, though he's crouching over his own extended arm where his bracelet is making a constant and jarring beeping noise, which blares through the otherwise oddly quiet evening air.

He's just sort of tapping at random and scowling. Maybe like your dad trying out an iPhone for the first time. ]

Shit. How do I shut this up?

II. i'm so sorry

[ Someone is going to be receiving a flurry of texts from Geralt--or rather, from whatever is texting from Geralt's device. The first message is a photo. It's a picture of a sword. Granted, it's a pretty cool sword. A wolf's head snarls on the pommel, the crossguard is angled up and out on both sides, and the blade is shining, well-maintained silver. The problem is that Geralt didn't take this picture (he doesn't even know how), and he certainly didn't send it. Nor is he responsible for the message that follows a moment later. ]

I showed you my sword, please respond?

[ This is aggravating. He's spent long enough just figuring out how to type and send messages, and now this thing is deciding what to say for him? The next text is one he is responsible for. ]

sorry. that wasn't me

[ And another a moment later: ]

that is my sword though

III. wildcard

( Open to receiving accidentally sent bingo cards, misfired texts, or other random encounters. Feel free to PM with any questions. Geralt is from the game + book canon. Open to m/f and m/m for smut, but only with characters 21+ please. Still working on an info/permissions page, but there's a basic kink list over here. )

ii

[perfectlycivil]

sorry my sword didn't make the trip
nice fuller

how OLD are you man?

[decoctions]

thanks

old

[ he's just an old man who can't text, leave him alone, sassy youth! ]

[perfectlycivil]

[shan't]

ur not like a priest or anything right

ii

[automatized]

[ finally, a beautiful message ]

It looks wonderful and well-maintained. Your smith did an excellent job.

[decoctions]

yeah, can't complain. does what it's supposed to

2

[pawper]

[Her first impulse, naturally, is to respond to the initial message that misfires into her device, if only because ignoring it seems like a weird and rude thing to do. But she's about as technologically challenged as him, so there's a long delay as she figures out just how to do that .....and then an even longer one as she reads what he'd sent in the meantime, to then painstakingly revise the message she'd been crafting.

Whew! These modern-day kids don't know how good they have it.]

wow, it looks beautiful![And, uh, vaguely worrying; she doesn't have the eye to realize it's silver-wrought, but the wolf's head on the pommel makes a funny twinge twist through her stomach all the same. But it's probably no big deal, right? Right!] i can tell you've been taking care of it.

oh, and here's mine!

[He gets an awkwardly framed, but clear enough swordpic in return. It....looks really ordinary by comparison, and also in need of a fresh sharpening.]

i think yours is bigger, though.

[decoctions]

[ the compliments are unexpected. he doesn't get many of those, even on his equipment. ]

have to keep it in good shape. can't do my work otherwise

[ that's, uh, pretty ominous, Geralt. but he's actually sort of amused to get a swordpic back. maybe this isn't all bad. ]

size isn't everything. blade looks sturdy. ought to sharpen it though

[familycrest]

nice sword

[ and god only knows what prompts him to add ]

but i've seen bigger

[decoctions]

[ oh, a classic. ]

sure. but size doesn't mean quality

ii.

[covertness]

i think the more important question is
do you know how to use it?

[ innuendo and gathering intel all at once. never let it be said that she can't multi-task ]

[decoctions]

better than most

[ however it sounds, he's not bragging. it's just a fact. ]

i

[wolfwithagoat]

Geralt?

[The question is quiet, but the voice is recognizable. Not that Eskel is looking particularly friendly at the moment; he's been on high alert ever since his arrival. Caution is the structure of his current posture. He approached Geralt as quietly as his skills allowed, disbelief at finding a familiar face.]

[But then Geralt spoke, and he couldn't help himself.]

That really you, Wolf?

((Hey bro! Muse is very new still but couldn't resist.))

[decoctions]

[ And in turn, Eskel's presence is not just recognizable, but unmistakable, from his voice to his scent to the barely-there sound of his footsteps, likely perceptible only to another witcher. Irritating as it is, it's easy to forget the incessant beeping from the bracelet in favor of getting to his feet and turning to great Eskel properly. The corners of Geralt's lips twitch up and his eyes warm just enough to call it a smile. Now there's a distinctive face, comforting in its familiarity. ]

Yeah. Damn, Eskel, it's good to see you.

[ Geralt is already reaching to clasp Eskel's shoulder firmly as soon as they're close enough. ]

( ii )

[allumer]

getting mixed signals here
someone steal your sword or are you taking credit for someone else's cool sword?

[decoctions]

neither
it's my sword. but i didn't send that message

ii

[oomfies]

omg. can't tell you how happy i am that wasn't a dick pic

[ and a few moments later: ]

nice prop tho?

[decoctions]

[ at the expense of ignoring everything else: ]

people send their dicks to other people like this? seriously?

[ oh, Geralt, you complete internet virgin. ]

Yet another II

[waswrongtoo]

Quite impressive! Here's mine...

[The following picture isn't of a sword, but rather the inside of a white cloak, attached to which are just... a ridiculous amount of knives. Just so many knives.]

[decoctions]

nice collection. you actually use all of them?

ii

[knived]

( as far as keith is concerned, this is the only kind of texting that matters: weapon-talk )

whoa nice. are you any good with it?

[decoctions]

no. i just carry it for fun

[ he'll learn at some point that sarcasm doesn't really translate over text. ]

I

[lutebox]

[Now this picture looks familiar. Eerily familiar, with eerie being the operative word. Were he from some other version of the world, where time had moved on at a prettier pace, Jaskier might have called the sight that greets him a little bit uncanny valley.

But that term's a world and a way off, so let's just call it the mindfuck it is.

Two swords. White hair and eyes like a big cat slipped from its cage. A wolf at his throat, if not the pendant Jaskier knows well.

What the fuck, what the actual fuck.

And yet, Jaskier greets him with a smile, strolling over to set one foot on the edge of the stool and peer at the curious little device he's prodding at. He's been given one of his own that, for now, he's choosing to ignore.]

I've been considering a long drop into deep water. If I try it, shall I let you know how it goes?

[decoctions]

[ Suffice to say that Geralt has seen a lot of weird shit. This shit today is pretty high up there. Near the top even, which is saying something.

But Jaskier throws him. Really throws him. When you've known someone a long time--more than twenty years, at this point--certain things about them just stick, distinctive and unique to the person in question. The way they talk or move or presumptuously insert themselves into your life, for instance. Appearance can change easily; personality and mannerisms not so much.

Geralt is certain that Jaskier is the very same troubadour he knows. How can he be so sure? Because if the witcher trusts anything here, it's his own senses. And he smells exactly the same.

Which makes it especially fucking weird to see his friend so fresh-faced. Literally. He doesn't know that face, even if he knows the man beneath it. The how and why of it are beyond him. His medallion doesn't react at all, which means it isn't magic or an illusion of any kind. His feline eyes narrow and his shoulders tense beneath his dark armor, but if Jaskier is going to be nonchalant about it, he can be too. ]

Wouldn't mind trying that myself.

[ His voice is its usual gravelly rumble, with no inflection to betray his confusion. ]

ii

[badluckblues]

well

one good sword pic deserves another

[ attachment ]