shiftmods: (Default)
shiftmods ([personal profile] shiftmods) wrote in [community profile] realitydrome2015-12-02 02:34 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME 01.1



HERE YOU ARE.


You appear in the Interim with nothing but the clothes on your back.

And the money in your pocket, and the things in your backpack, the bed you were sleeping in, the book you were reading, the cereal you were eating...you get the idea. Anything you were touching - anything inanimate and not nailed down - has come with you. Handy. Except you’ll only be able to bring what you can carry, and strangely, nothing electronic seems to be working. Not your digital watch, not your cell phones (there’s no signal anyway), and not even your magic space car.

You’re obviously not the first person this has happened to; there are the remnants of others’ abandoned belongings all around. A desk half-buried in sand, a more recent pile of heavy winter clothes, evidence of people who have passed through and left behind what they didn't need or want. The Interim is big, but open...it will be easy to encounter others like yourself who are still here.

There’s endless desert as far as you can see; blistering orange on a backdrop of a purple sky, punctuated by lightning that tells you a storm will be here soon. The static filled air is almost artificially dry, with no smell, no taste...something only noticeable in its absence. No matter where you've appeared in the Interim, you can see a building. A lone building, with no obvious origin or cultural markers, decidedly alien but the only thing that signifies life. There’s nothing forcing you to go there, but where else will you go? And with the lightening storms pressing in on the horizon, staying out in the open doesn't seem like the best idea.

Grab what you can carry (or don’t), and start walking.


THE BUILDING.

Let’s assume you've made it to the building.

No matter what side of the building you approach you'll come to an automated door that will open on the featureless façade, sliding upwards. The same door will close (but not lock) behind you once you enter. Just in time too, because once the storm arrives, the lightning and the suspiciously uniform golf ball sized hail will make being outdoors hazardous. So step inside.

Take a breath; the air feels heavier, ionized, thick with the smells and and tastes that were curiously absent in the air outside. Metallic, wet, a faint smell of rust, a faint hint of something organic, something chemical. It’s like real air, even if it is strange. Now that you’re inside, it’s dark. This building has no windows, but in the pitch you’ll see coloured emergency strips leading your way; a trail of red dots guiding you who-knows-where. All the entrances to the building, all the red lights will take you to the center; the industrial labyrinth walls will all fall away to a cavernous room, revealing a massive machine. Or at least your assume it's a machine. It's purpose is not obvious; it could be a water purifier, a nuclear reactor, or make license plates or anything else really. There's a cavernous part in the center that is clearly meant to be be passage, although it doesn't appear to go anywhere. A dead end.

You’ll notice a large console, complex with buttons, dials and displays that will be foreign to you, no matter what world you come from. The technologically proficient might be able to make some educated guesses, but even the least tech-savvy amongst you will recognise the simplest of instructions; a large lever, prominently placed, with a yellow sticky note reading in hastily scribbled English:

ON.

Nothing happens when you press it.



WRITING ON THE WALL.


By now it’s probably become apparent that your electronics are working again; within the confines of the building anyway. Most things will be working normally, although cell phones, radios and anything designed to pick up a signal will be going haywire, picking up errant singles in the form of video, audio or both, all of them scrambled, none of them discernible. You may catch snatches of recognizable imagery, or sound, but nothing concrete and there won’t seem to be any commonality. Most will be unsettling alien.

[Mod note: should anyone fiddle with the signals picked up, or attempt to glean anything useful from them for long enough, the most recurring tidbit will be ‘POWER’]

There’s writing on the wall; you might not have looked around much before, you might not be very observant, or maybe you did look and would swear on your mother’s grave it hadn't been there before. Whatever the case, it’s there now; crudely written English, written on the wall in black. An arrow points to something next to it that resembles a circuit breaker...or at least something analogous to one. Flip the master switch and the rumble of power behind the walls will suddenly bring light to the room….dim light.

RESORE PPOWER, FOLLOW WIRES

Stemming from the massive as-still-unknown machine, there are many conduits and wires leading out from the room. Time to split up, team up and follow them. The building is big, it’s dark, and there are no maps. Follow the wires and flip those breakers.*


THE LOWER LEVELS

Going down, things will seem to get even darker, even damper. The rumbling in the walls will grow louder as you go further down, and the air will seem to have a stronger ozone scent. Most of the wires and pipes and walls, will have traces of rust, but dust will be a scarcity.

Watch your step, and keep your eyes peeled there’s a strange skittering in the dark...


THE UPPER LEVELS

Things will get quieter as you go up, dryer too. It will still be dark, but as you ascend levels, you’ll notice an unusual lightness. The air seems a bit thinner, and your steps a bit lighter. It might be too much to say gravity feels weaker, but it wouldn't be wrong. Every level you go up the effect will be exaggerated and it may become difficult for oxygen requiring individuals to breath. Electronics will be behaving even worse on the higher levels, picking up errant signals and mishmashing them together. Nothing clear will come through, but it will be obvious that nothing you’re picking up is from back home.

*There is no set number of breakers to be flipped in the Test Drive, the task will simply be considered done at the end, whether four or forty have been flipped….there can be as many as you would like to seek out!


FIRST CONTACT

After partial power has been restored, you'll find that electronics are suddenly able to pick up a transmission....





OOC NOTES
NAVIGATION

Characters will be brought into the Interim in much the same way as the game, and the same basic rules apply - see the FAQ for specifics about inventory, the types of characters, or powers etc! If you have a TEST DRIVE specific question, please ask it below! Any other questions can be asked here!
  • Characters played in the TDM will not have the benefit of having any damages or conditions to their body repaired just yet...
  • Characters will not be power-nerfed for the purpose of the TDM; police yourself and don't make things unfun for others! (ie/ your infinitely powerful super villain destroying the building isn't fun for anyone else)
  • Characters will not be beholden to the inventory they have here should they choose to app
  • For convenience's sake, spoken language barrier is being hand-waved for the TDM (unless you feel like playing out the communication problems, in which case go for it!)
  • If a character IS or has life-essential equipment that is electronic, they will be transported directly into the building. Should they step outside the building however....the same rules apply.
  • Please put your character's name and canon in the subject line so everyone knows who they are!
The TDM will be considered soft canon...that is, it will be considered canon, but is not at all necessary. You can choose to have it be canon or non canon for your character. Since this test drive is also functioning as a game beta, changes may also be made before the game opens. Please note this is an excellent time to ask questions or provide feedback! We’re looking to hear from you!

Reserves open 12.11.15
Applications will open
01.01.16

twobastards: (default)

I On YOUR guard

[personal profile] twobastards 2015-12-14 02:13 am (UTC)(link)
Her leg was starting to fucking hurt. Pausing to lean against an old Model T (also? damn son.) she dug her fingers along the border of scar-tissue and not-scar-tissue, hissing with the pain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Looking around, she noticed tracks circling the car and moving on, towards the building. With a sigh, she adjusted her grip on her cane and pushed away from the car, doggedly following the tracks. Spying a figure with a fedora (and a gun), she called out.

"Hey! You alright!"
Edited (i'm sorry i thought he was short) 2015-12-14 02:16 (UTC)
murdercat: (Glare1)

Re: Diable or Nothing!

[personal profile] murdercat 2015-12-14 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
He smelled blood, and a headache was building behind his eyes. That couldn't possibly be a good sign. He heard someone calling out to him, and stopped shuffling for a moment. There was somebody limping after him from the direction of the car. It seemed to be an old woman with a cane, although she also kept splitting into two women and reuniting. As she drew closer, she remained a bit hazy, but was definitely moving with purpose.

The cane couldn't have been helping much on the desert floor, But she didn't seem to be struggling. He was still undecided on whether or not it was a good sign he wasn't alone, but if it came to an altercation, firearms had a bit more reach than walking aids. " I am decidedly less than optimal."

Holding a conversation would be far simpler if his eyes would focus.
twobastards: (you're kidding right)

Re: Attaque au Fer!

[personal profile] twobastards 2015-12-14 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
Sliding down a bit of a rise, Liz stumbled (in a somewhat controlled manner, thank you very much) to a stop in front of the--cat man in 1920's gangster clothes. Alright. Mentally, she ticked a mark in the 'this is possibly the fae' column.

Eyeing the cat man, she tilted her head and squinted, tracking his pupils. "Yyyeeeah," she drawled, tilting her head the other way. "Look like you've a concussion."
murdercat: (Sure Yea.)

Re: Attaque au Fer!

[personal profile] murdercat 2015-12-16 07:32 am (UTC)(link)
That sounded unfortunately likely. "No. I don't have time for a concussion. Right now," He gestures to the approaching thunderhead, "I have a headache. I'll be concussed in half an hour. At the very least, I shouldn't have an issue walking to shelter." His eyes vaguely drift to her cane. Head trauma certainly doesn't help with an already prickly disposition, to say in the least.
twobastards: (bitch please)

[personal profile] twobastards 2015-12-17 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
She grinned, showing all her teeth. "Oh, I'm sorry, is the concussed car-crash victim trying to imply I'm going to have a rougher time of it?" Liz has been concussed; on the whole, she'll take her fucked up leg, thanks.

Sweeping her arms before her, she gestured him on. "Well then, mister 'I've-only-a-headache', please, after you." When he falls, she is going to tell him 'I told you so' in her snottiest voice, just you wait.
murdercat: (Absolutely Not 2)

[personal profile] murdercat 2015-12-18 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Something Mordecai had always found vexing was the insufferable self-righteous attitude of the elderly. He spins irritably on his heel in the sand, but even after he faces the building, his head continues to twirl. A wave of roiling nausea overcomes him, and he stumbles urgently to a vast mahogany writing desk for the best bowl-shaped object he could find. After grabbing an umbrella stand fashioned from a stout hirsute leg (evidenced as such by the umbrella that caught the majority of the first surge of sick), he collapses next to the desk and coughs between tides.

The metal rim of the stand provided a cool band across his forehead, but a disk of pain had wedged itself lengthwise in his skull. It wouldn't sit right with him to leave the desk as it was, but with the wind picking up, he didn't have much of a choice. Sitting up straight, he takes a few deep breaths through his nose, and turns his head to his audience. "Owing to the circumstances, I believe it may behoove us to assist one another to the threshold."

His pushes off from the desk, replaces the stand, and gets to his feet a little more steadily than he felt. He sincerely hoped that there wouldn't be much more conversation before they got inside.
twobastards: (tea)

a million years later... /cough

[personal profile] twobastards 2015-12-31 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
With a brow arched and a smirk tugging at her lips, Liz watched as the cat man tripped over himself and was promptly (and violently) sick.

"Assist one another," she snorted, "Right." Nevertheless, she hooked one of his arms over her shoulders and began to drag him along towards the building. "Maybe we should check you for a fever, seeing as you're delusional and all."