Missrecalled TDM 1

[missrecalled_mods]

You aren't sure how you landed here, or even where here is. But here you are. Some new place. Or maybe... maybe it is familiar. Maybe not. So... where are you?



^AURADON


Welcome to Auradon! You have woken up in the perfectly manicured grass before a large castle. You're not the only one! if you follow the path to the Castle you'll discover it is the dorm for a large school attached at the back. Everything is amazing and elegant. There is a wing of rooms that are meant for girls, which are generally full of pink and white and sparkles and lace and frills. Very few of the doors are locked, but a lot of them are filled with personal belongings, like these were someone's rooms.

The rooms meant for boys are much the same, though they are more blue and green and flannel. But again, most of the doors are unlocked, even though the rooms look lived in.

On both sides, the rooms each have two beds, and two of everything.

The grounds themselves are well kept and neat with flowers and bushes and lots of places for sitting on the grass to enjoy the sun or share a picnic.

What is missing - in the dorms, on the grounds, in the perfectly clean classrooms are... people. The only people around are those who seem like you, newly arrived and confused.

And then, rushing right at you, are animals. Birds and rabbits and stray cats and dogs!



^{The Isle}
You are in a graveyard. an old poorly cared for graveyard littered with trash. Old crushed cups and molded fruit cores. The whole place had an air of neglects with weeds springing up around what at first seemed to be tomb stones...

But a closer look might make one question them. For these were not tomb stones at all. There were no graves and what was carved into them wasn't names of the dearly departed, but rather sayings exulting evil. Celebrating it. These my dears, were doom stones.

But if the graveyard wasn't a graveyard, then what was the mausoleum that lorded over it all? Going inside would reveal it to be one of the most depressing suffocating horror houses of all - a high school. A poorly kept high school with drafty classrooms, a basement that stunk of mold and chemicals, and trash and graffiti everywhere. Many lockers are dented from the inside out, like something had been trying to escape. But it was eerily quiet now.

Some doors are locked. Most are not. But everything is just in a state of disrepair. One door has a giant spider guarding it, but everything else seems... deserted. Like this school had been abandoned long ago. With even the lights flickering, the whole thing feels almost haunted.

But if you try to use any magic or powers to light the way you might just find the scariest thing of all...

NO MAGIC WORKS HERE!

Welcome to the Isle of the Lost, explore if you dare....




And welcome to MissRecalled! A Descendants based panfandom jamjar game! TDM cannot be used as game canon, but we hope you enjoy the TDM all the same. Please feel free to check out our rules and FAQ pages, and drop us an app!

Comments

[silverstorm]

Cadeyrn hadn't missed the intruder when he'd walked inside the room he'd been cleaning. A single dark brow rises above deep grey eyes glancing at the older man. He has more experience, and the soldier knows better than to underestimate anyone with far more experience than he has.

He finds the comment peculiar. "Am I a student, then?" he asks, and the amusement flits into his eyes and brightens them, thunderclouds turning to mist before he returns to his task, incredibly aware of the character by his side, but not feeling like he needs to give him his full attention. Yet.

But he does indicate familiarity to their surroundings, and Cadeyrn snaps up at this information. Knowledge is power. And any knowledge for how he came here-- can be helpful.

"You are a teacher? Did you always work here?"

[misery_called_npcs]

"If you are a student here remains up to you. For you alone can make that choice. What you get out of your time here is determined by your choices as well. I am professor Yen Sid, and I have been teaching at this school since its founding."

[silverstorm]

Alright, cryptic teacher. Cadeyrn's movement is so slight it might be missed, as he raises a single brow by just a fraction, and the very corners of his mouth grow a little crooked.

"And when was this school founded?" he questions easily, like catching threads from this silken weave. He wonders briefly which insect he'll find at the end of the thread, but doesn't prod too deeply yet. A school. A teacher. His presence here-- and he's seen a few others lingering nearby. Just as lost, just as confused as he is.

"Do you often get students without a warning?" He's not sure what's going on. Something that escapes his notice, something just underneath his fingertips. Something important, he'd bet. "And for that matter-- where are the rest of them? Why is this a school as well as a waste disposal? Is there nothing here that has not been soiled or half-rotten, or picked apart? Why so?"

And that is just the bottom of the mountain. Cadeyrn has too many questions, and, alright, cleaning helps, but he wants to make sure he's not missing a gesture, an expression that might reveal more than the older man is truly willing to say. So he turns back to him, watches carefully with thundercloud eyes as he crosses his arms, leans against the (freshly cleaned, thank you) counter. He has all the time in the world after all-- and knowledge is power.

[misery_called_npcs]

"You have many questions, some more easily answered than others. But many of them are at root interconnected. This school was founded a little over twenty years ago, now. When the Island itself was. Given the nature of the island, new students are rare at all, unless I have seen them grow from small children. As to why everything here is as you have observed... the reason is tied into why this Isle exists in the first place. And that is a rather long tale, I fear."

[silverstorm]

Is he trying to slip away? An eyebrow rises above his darkening eyes, his smile growing all the more crooked as he watches his opponent. Give him a fight. Cadeyrn thrives on these, and he's not about to let the teacher slip away without a challenge.

"I have all the time in the world." He mentions, crooked smile and thunder-eyed as he goes on. "And this is a school, isn't it? What better way to start educating than to go over the foundations of this place?"

Knowledge is power. And Cadeyrn wants this power, wants to equip himself with all the weapons that can help him in this fight. With or without the cryptic teacher's assistance.

[misery_called_npcs]

"I have no qualms telling the story. At my age, however, I do have some reservations about doing so while standing in a doorway. If you would join me in my office I have proper seats and some small stash of tea not entirely rancid."

[silverstorm]

Hmmm. An eyebrow rises, watching his opponent openly as he considers the offer. It's almost a disappointment, if Cadeyrn couldn't admit that the teacher has good sense, and quite a handful of patience. The dithering around the information is not in his favour, but the soldier knows better than to spit on freely given offerings.

Alright, he'll play along then. He nods his agreement, wrings the rag he'd been using free of water, and sets it atop the faucet to dry, before he steps along to the teacher's side.

"You may start with this;" because Cadeyrn's patience itself is not limitless, and he is eager to figure out what fool the dead gods are playing him for. "Where are we? This is not Amarilys." A fact. He would not have allowed any part of--

That's... not quite true. But he doesn't want any part of Amarilys to be so broken. To be so rotten from the core.

[misery_called_npcs]

Rotten from the core... or perhaps to it. Yen Sid led the way to one of the few locked doors in the school, this one just across from the lab they had been in.

Inside was a cozy - if small and cluttered - little office. The desk dominated much of it, and there was one warn chair behind it and two faded footstools before it. A tiny battered but clean end table sat within reach of both foot stools and held a hot plate and two mugs. The rest of the room was full of all sorts of interesting things. Mostly books, of course, but also broken necklaces, sword hilts without blades, small bits of statuary.

He settled himself on one of the low stools and waved to the other. He tuned on the electric kettle and pulled a mostly empty battered tin of tea bags out from under a stack of books without disrupting the stack in the least. Like real world jenga. "I would offer sugar, but it is hard to come by here," he said. "As to where here is, this school is called Dragon Hall. It is on the Isle of the lost, just off the coast of Auradon."