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realitydrome2015-12-02 02:34 am
shiftmods) wrote in realitydrome2015-12-02 02:34 am
Entry tags:
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.
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.
[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....
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!
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.
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....
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!
Reserves open 12.11.15
Applications will open 01.01.16
Applications will open 01.01.16
Mordecai Heller || Lackadaisy Cats
Mordecai groans, and rolls his head forward. To top off the beginning of this delightful evening, Nico has seemingly plowed the car into a telephone pole. Blinking the sand out of his eyes, he gathers himself an-.... sand? Partially more cognizant, he braces himself against the back seat and peers out the windows. The miscreant siblings are gone. The road is gone. St. Louis is gone. He heaves himself to the door, and forces it open against a drift.
As far as the eye can see is just…. sand. The vehicle is well and truly dead, more or less intact, partially buried in a dune. Sand in his eyes, sand in his ears, sand in hismouth,underhisnails,inhisCLOTHES,DOWNHISBACK!! Breathing heavily, sputtering, and methodically ruffling himself dry, he shudders and attempts to regain some level of decorum. Maybe the Cajun siblings did him in through vehicular ineptitude. Maybe through sepsis, maybe… this really was It. Not that he was a particularly religious individual, but he figured Gehinnom would have been a little…. warmer. And blood poisoning takes much longer than that… Either way, a concussion, dehydration, and exposure to the elements would not do him any favors.
A storm front was moving in, and the wind was picking up. For such a seemingly turbid squall, the air seemed unusually arid. Desks, all manner of vehicles, orbs, eggs, clothes, bricks, and a continual myriad of detritus was cast about in varying levels of disrepair. The only semblance of shelter available is a colossal high rise. It didn’t look necessarily human, but not much time was left to make a decision. His hair was standing on end, the wind was picking up, and he was in no shape to risk being caught in the storm. No sense in leaving without a bit of protection, either.
The trunk was locked, and the only keys left in the ignition were to turn the engine over. Nothing in the visors, nothing in the glovebox: the keys must still be with the familial reprobates, wherever they decided to disappear. A simple enough fix would be to fit a switchblade into the lock and knock it in with the butt of his .45, until he pulls the carving on his chest open again. Hissing at his own stupidity and the miserable, wretched, filthy, profoundly idiotic coworkers he had the misfortune of being thrown to, and the depths of their asinine voodoo balderdash, he gingerly flips open the trunk. As luck would have it, they did leave something useful in their wake. In a modified lock box under the paneling, he pulls out a Browning Automatic Rifle. It was weighty, cumbersome and unwieldy, but it was reliable. She apparently had sawed off the barrel, which would make it more manageable, but with a sneer, he side-eyes the crude Crocodilia etched into the fore grip. Fine. It would be better than nothing. He slings it over his shoulder, and begins the long slog up to the only hint of civilization in sight.
II: THE LOA DOWN
More levers, and more hallways. In theory, enough of these switches should route power into the center terminal, and maybe allow some manner of radio contact. However, there were no hints as to the level of wattage, or any pattern to the circuitry. He had started in a direct path, which did nothing for functionality. If there was a rhyme or reason for the wiring, he hadn’t been able to glean it just yet, and so set to priming as many breakers in a rough area as possible. The dim tunnels stank of wet and…. blood? The lower levels seemed more calm than the hail outside, but not any measure safer.
He had heard movement in the dark more than once, and any doubt about warming pipes or moving machinery had been long dispelled. It had been movement with purpose, and had been growing braver. He sinks into a bevel in the wall and ratchets the bolt on his rife, issuing a clipped echo down the hall. Stupid! The element of surprise was now out of the question. At this point he could only hope that whoever it was hadn’t seen him just yet.
II
Rounding a corner, light trailing the strung up wires, Talwyn hears a noise in the dark that she knows isn't her imagination.
"You might wanna be a little more quiet, if you're gonna sneak around in the dark like that," she calls out, a little more boldly than she feels, gun raised in the direction of the sound.
Re: II
When he had heard her voice he had figured she was sapient, but as he took a bead, his hands went slack on the rifle. She was…. completely bare! She had hair on the top of her head, but her face, neck, and ears were rubbed raw. Her tail was similarly bald, but had an arrowhead at the tip. Could she have done this voluntarily? Was he dealing with his second cult for the night? How could she have moved her ears medi-cranially? She clearly knew her way around a pistol, and was well equipped to deal with hardship, in either regard.
“Who… What are you?”
no subject
"I'm a person, what'd'you think? Markazian, thank you very much." She lowers her gun just a hair, biting her lip. There wasn't much sense in turning this into a stand off, when there were other things lurking in the dark down here. Things that weren't just a paranoid Cazar with an itchy trigger finger. "Talwyn Apogee. Polaris Defense force Captain. Who are you?"
Leblanc-ing on a Name
Or another target.
“Forgive me. You've taken me by surprise, I'm afraid. My name is Viktor Vasko. I am…” a rum-runner? A hatchet man? That would make for an interesting first impression. “an executive accountant for the Marigold Room. Why are you-... why are we here?” He dips his rifle lower, but keeps it in both hands. If they needed to shoot one another, there would be plenty of time for that later.
I.
She gritted her teeth, clutching the books in her arms closer. Even if she didn't need her work notes, aside from her hat and her purse they were the only things left she had grounding her to reality. Because whatever this was had to be some sort of elaborate joke.
Climbing to the crest of one of the dunes, Sawyer's heart jumped, seeing another cat heading towards the tower. She started running, sliding down the sand as quickly as she could without dropping anything.
"Excuse Me! Wait up a moment won't you?"
Re: I.
She tumbles down the dune more or less intact. She appeared to only be armed with a bevy of notebooks, though that could mean little. Safety in leaving is a moot point, however would it be safer to leave her to her own devices, or partner together? The wind pushed at his back and raced up the dune, kicking more sand into the air. A choice needed to be made, and there wasn’t very much time left to decide.
While it might be opening him to unnecessary risk, keeping the newcomer in sight would allow for a more controlled exposure. The BAR’s welcome weight provided comfort as he slowed his stride and waited for her approach.
no subject
"Thank you. Are you from around here? Cause I would just love to know where we are and what the hell is going on that I wind up dragged to a dump like this just becau-ooooohhh!" That was definitely a gun, and Sawyer had seen enough props to tell this was not one and that it was, in fact, very real. She stepped back, glancing from his face to the rifle and back. She couldn't help thinking how it would be just her luck that the only person in miles could potentially want to kill her. Great.
She recomposed herself quickly, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.
"Aaaannyway, if you have it in your heart to help a lady out, I would be very grateful."
no subject
"Your gratitude, while appreciated, is unnecessary. Your haste however..." he gestures vaguely "might be a tad more pertinent." He begins the trek back to their only hope for shelter.
"As for your other inquiry: no. I am not familiar with the area, and I'm not quite certain where this literal dump actually is. We seem to be compatriots in this conundrum." Good. Establish that you are 'friends', and finish up with the clincher... "You can take solace, however, that we are almost definitively both alive or both dead."
Everyone loves humor; it helps them loosen up!
II
Warhawk had been flipping switches as well, and while he hadn't run into anyone yet he'd been hearing the scurrying in the dark. The spiked mace he held in his hands crackled with electricity, lighting the hall in inconsistent flashes that made the shadows dance and flicker.
He stopped as he neared a corner, hearing the click of metal, nothing like the animalistic skittering so far. His grip tightened, hesitating just a moment. With a savage yell, he rounded the corner, swinging his mace toward the source of the noise.
Re: II
Empty.
It was EMPTY!?
Confusion and rage abound, he cringes and braces for the blow. Of all things to trust…. the slightest bit of head trauma, and basic gun maintenance is excused? Of course the Savoys would put away their weapons dry. The sophomoric miscreants have only demonstrated the barest excuse of responsibility, and a complete lack of professional awareness. Would it have been so difficult to pop out the clip and check. One simple step forgotten, the slightest overlook, and now he was going to have his skull stove in for it.
no subject
Big mistake.
Leaving his mace where it had wedged itself in the wall, he lunged forward, grabbing hold of the front of Mordecai's shirt and jacket with one clawed hand. Warhawk had no trouble lifting him off the floor and pinning him to the wall, well above the floor. That's what you get for trying to take on a Thanagarian.
"Alright, fur face, start talking. What is this place? Where the hell are we?"
no subject
But did he think he lived here? Did this hole seem livable? The only moisture he had seen so far had been the sludge on the walls, and he would rather waste away before being forced to lick that for survival. His upper arms and jaw seem to be the only unarmored areas. Mordecai still has a knife in his pocket, but it seems unlikely he would be able to get it out before having his rib-cage crushed. Now would be a very bad time to antagonize his assailant.
Mustering as much composure as possible while dangling a full foot or two off the ground, he glowers down at the barbarian. "Your guess is as good as mine."
no subject
I On YOUR guard
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!"
Re: Diable or Nothing!
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.
Re: Attaque au Fer!
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."
Re: Attaque au Fer!
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
a million years later... /cough
"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."
I.
Well: shelter, for one thing. Wrex isn't afraid of storms, but in his vast and lengthy experience, it's never a good idea to let yourself get caught in bad weather on a strange planet when you have no idea what it's atmosphere is made up of, or what kind of hell those clouds might rain down on you when they get close enough.
He's making his way over to the high rise as well, and briefly climbs up on a pile of rubble to try to get the lay of the land, when he spots something else moving out in the wastes here. Some unfamiliar species, trekking through the sand... Normally he'd brush it off as a non-sapient native species like you tend to find on uncharted planets like this, but it's walking upright, wearing clothes, and carrying a very primitive looking gun.
Pulling out his shotgun as a precaution (and holding it in about the most non-threatening way a that Krogan can hold a massive weapon of death like that), Wrex waits for the stranger to pass by below before calling down to him:
"Hey! You local to this planet?"
Hopefully his universal translator still works.
Re: I.
Staying low and sticking to the lee of the largest debris, he tries to make his way through the field. He breaks cover for a few moments and darts back behind a trolley, sprinting to the monolith.
II. I am so late to this test drive but mordecaiiiii
In fact, he's way too busy being scared out of his wits to notice the sound of Mordecai's weapon being readied. He probably wouldn't have recognized it anyhow - he wasn't much of a gun guy.
So he's just going to half-run, half-fast walk past - and sing? He was definitely half-singing something to himself, a failed strategy to soothe his fears. Something about school exams, and something called a bamboo copter and then,
". . . an, an, an, I love you very much. . . Doraemon . . . " He still hasn't noticed Mordecai, and probably would walk right past him.