![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
❪ test drive #9 ❫
|
YOUR STORY BEGINS  The Storm came. You remember darkness, but you don't remember much after that. You don't know how long you slept, but the dreams were short. You remember the expanse of stars and galaxies in your direct view. Every world and solar system ever known to man was present in your dreams in careful, pristine detail. You also witnessed the Storm, which has devoured a fair portion of these galaxies. Your Earth and similar planets were assimilated by the Storm. Somehow, you knew it would be the last you'd see of your world. That was when she told you what happened. You knew that you'd be living somewhere new. The details weren't clear, but you knew it was a part of a deal with the entity known as Darma - once, you might have been able to speak to her, but now you are only met with silence. When you awake, you will find yourself in Thesa Station. Your body is still cold, you're hungry, and the halls seem frighteningly bare somehow. Exploring the halls brings you to the transporter room, which will give you easy access to and from Nadril... Getting there is a quick process that leaves you feeling vaguely nauseous and out of your own body, and you can’t travel to the rest of the planet just yet, but the space station and the icy colony are yours to explore. A FORCED AWAKENING (THESA STATION)  ... But that is, of course, assuming that your awakening was a smooth one. In the best case scenario, nausea might be the worst you'd feel. For many others, the newly awakened won't be a pleasant one. In the past, the refugees will only wake when they are mentally and physically prepared for it. After all, they are in a whole new galaxy, and dimensions and time were trampled with to make the Intervention possible. Those who witnessed the storm before it devoured their own world would know as well that the Intervention hadn't been a graceful one, and it's exemplified by the way you wake. Alarms on the station will be blaring when you finally come to, siren calls and flashing light invade your already disoriented senses. You'll find yourself face-planted on the cool metallic floor among many others with you. Some, just as confused and unstable as you; others, still sleeping — they're alive, but no matter how much you try to wake them, they will not gain consciousness. Or maybe some will. It seems the best way to approach those in stasis is to put them back into their chambers in hopes that the glitch hadn't disrupted their recovery. Thesa Station has changed though, seemingly overnight. The space that surrounds the station is now in near-total darkness. Where there were once stars across billions of lightyears, it appears as though they're fading — some would flash right before your eyes. This is especially true for those with access to the Observation Room. Alarms will continue to ring as you find your way there. Once inside, you will see visible glitches in the hologram of the multiverses as a ghostly, dark fabric begins to blanket over the shining dots that represents the many stars across many galaxies. As it gathers the stars, it moves even faster. Somehow, you may feel that it's getting closer now. The impending doom of the Storm is now upon the little corner of the universes where Darma found her planet. It's only a matter of time now before the Storm finally, finally, finds El Nysa. THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT
Nadril will remain accessible once you've established footing — it may seem like a welcome change to the steel, alarms, and artificial gravity. Once you've teleported down, your devices will pick up the message from the one and only Nurray, the leader of Nadril.
True to her words, the city square where you've teleported will have been furnished with a new piece of technology. Those who are familiar with Thesa's ins and outs would recognize it as a version of the Virtual Reality machines that can be found up there, but it is made for far more people. This foreboding machine has a shining gate that allows users to simply step through it and disappear into space. However, what you're really doing, is stepping right into the past.  I. Burning Dawn — You can hear the piercing screams even before your surroundings finish rendering. Once they do, searing heat, choking smoke, and flickering flames greet you — you find yourself in the midst of a burning village, at the center of the town square. The streets are swarming with people, both peasants who seem to live here fleeing for their lives and the heavily armored troops who have fanned out throughout the village, armed with torches and spears. Those who are running speak of safety in the forest — a place of refuge, somewhere they can be protected even from these outsiders with their blades and their fire. But reaching the forest means getting past the invaders who are stationed throughout the village and at all the exits. Fight your way out, sneak your way out, or find some other solution — but to escape this simulation you must find a way out. Should you find yourself killed by the invaders, you will respawn back in the village square again, right where you started. There does not seem to be any other way to end the VR session. II. The Escape — It is bitterly cold. You find yourself as part of a caravan — and though no one explicitly says so, you know instinctively that you are traveling north. Snow crunches underneath your feet and soaks through the material of whatever it is you are wearing. There are cliff walls and caverns visible further up ahead, and the path you need to take is a long, winding road that leads to the top of those cliffs. On the horizon are dark clouds, and murmuring around you makes it clear that you all expect a storm. You have perhaps half an hour before it is expected to hit. What you do with that time is up to you, but should you fail to prepare properly and succumb to exposure, the next thing you know you find yourself within the caravan once more, a chill in your soul as you stare out at the approaching storm. Thirty minutes... III. Crime — "Catch!" Someone calls that word out to you, and a moment later, a small wrapped package is dropped into your arms. There is a flurry of movement from somewhere behind you, and suddenly, men garbed in Olympian insignias — older than the versions worn in Olympia these days, but still recognizable — appear, brandishing swords at you. "Stop! Thief!" If the guards catch you, the scenery around you will distort, and you will find yourself back at the start of the simulation, with a package thrown into your arms. But if you flee, if you evade the guards for long enough through the twists and turns of the Olympian markets of hundreds of years ago, and manage to lose them... When you come out of the VR session, you find yourself gripping a small trinket of some kind — an antique bracelet, or perhaps a goblet, or some other bauble of Olympian make. It is very old, and it is yours to keep. IV. ...And Punishment — The rattling of chains fills your ears as the walls of some kind of cell form themselves around you. There are shackles around your wrists, connected to chains which are bolted to the stones hemming you in. There are others chained here with you, and as you begin to process what you're seeing, someone enters the cell. It's a large, imposing man with scale-like skin, and he takes one of the others in your cell and hauls them away. Minutes later, from outside, you hear screaming — and then utter silence. The man will return in thirty-minute intervals, dragging the inhabitants of the cell away for execution until he gets to you. If you do nothing, you will meet your end in a variety of ways — beheaded by an axe, perhaps, or drawn and quartered, or boiled alive. Should that happen, you will awake in the cell again, until you find a way to free yourself and escape. V. Castaways — The tang of sea salt fills the air as the image of the ocean builds itself around you. You find yourself on the deck of a ship, sailing away from the isles of El Nysa, toward the thick, thick fog that has kept everyone fenced in for so long. "It's never been done before, crew," shouts a man with a thick beard, wearing the clothes of a captain. "But today, we'll be the first! Full speed ahead!" The ship sails directly into the fog, and it seeps in around you, obscures your vision and becomes so thick that it's almost hard to breathe. But you can hear the waves breaking on the ship's hull, and everything is fine. Until it's not. Until the sound of the waves breaking is the sound of waves crashing, until the wind whips around you and howls but does not clear away the fog. There's a sickening crunch as the mast cracks and twists and falls, shattering the deck and sending you and everyone around you into the icy cold depths of the sea. The isles are back the way you came, but can you make it? Try — because should you sink to the depths of the sea, you'll only find yourself on the ship's deck again once you open your eyes. INVISIBLE WIRES
While there are no apparent seasons in the everwinter of Nadril, the diverse flora is not all year round. Now, with the coming of the most distant moon of the year, there grows a beautiful red vine. It snakes upwards from the ice, bright red against the glowing scenery. Growing along houses, coiled up tree trunks, and spidering over the ground, the plant is resilient and quickly adapts to any terrain.
It's quite the sight to behold, but get close and the veinlike roots fade, becoming entirely invisible. Like this, the vine ensnares its prey. A small tendril wraps around your finger, your neck, or burrows into your chest to entwine your heart. Each plant chooses two hosts in this way, binding them together with a sharp ache that becomes more severe the greater the distance between them grows. You may be alone when afflicted, left to suffer the night wandering to find your other half to soothe the pain. The vine withers after about 24 hours, leaving behind no trace, however, resisting its pull has been known to draw blood from the most stubborn obstinate victims. FINAL OOC NOTES
As always, feel free to wildcard prompts within Thesa Station and Nadril!
These threads may be carried over as game canon if players choose. Players are encouraged to submit TDM threads as application samples, but they are not required. Please direct any OOC questions to the questions thread below. Players may submit an AC-length thread HERE from this TDM for two (2) Natha REP. The due date for submission is January 20th, 11:59 PM EST. Due to the plot-relevancy of this TDM, current players are able to play these prompts in-game in their own logs. However, only threads involving a perspective player may be used for Natha REP. For this application cycle, there will be a cap of 60 and no reserves. Applications will be open on January 2nd at 12:01 AM EST and close on January 4th, 11:59 PM EST. Thank you! |
Lord John Grey || Outlander
[The first thing that Grey understands for certain is that he is going to vomit. He doesn't quite remember where he is, he doesn't quite remember why he's there, he doesn't quite remember what awful swill he's drank to leave him in such a state as this, but here he is nonetheless.
Stumbling out of the odd little container he seems to have been closeted in, he makes a manful attempt at remaining upright and keeping his boots clean while his body does its best to empty the contents of his stomach onto the metal flooring before him. Metal flooring...
Grey takes a long moment to stand exactly where he is, breathing through his mouth and pressing his forehead against the cool wall before him, before he feels that he's collected himself well enough to stand up and survey the area around him. The odd assortment of people milling about, the container that he'd found himself stumbling out of, and the room. This vast room, full of hundreds more just like it, with other people stumbling out of some, but hundreds more remaining suspended in their own.]
Jesus...
[BURNING DAWN]
[It's the sound of the screaming that sets Grey's heart thudding in his chest, as the scene materializes around him. He has lived through battles before, survived his fair share of bloodshed and tragedy. But the sound of terror that meets his ears is not one of battle, man against man. He hears women, children. These people are innocents, and they quite obviously fear for their lives.
It isn't until the air settles and the gnats of light stop dancing in front of eyes that he smells it as well. Feels it in the air. The scorching heat and choking smoke of the village about him, set ablaze. No wonder these people are terrified. Grey himself isn't doing much better to start.
Tearing off his cravat, he holds the cloth across his nose and mouth as he dives forward into the smoke and ash of the streets beyond. His red coat something of a beacon in the darkness as he dashes into the fray, and toward the cry of voices beyond.]
Cover your mouths! [he cries out] Cover your noses and mouths! Is there water? [Some sort of brigade that might aid in putting this inferno out?
It's at that point that he notices the men with torches, deliberately setting the fires themselves.] Bastards--
[WILDCARD]
((ooc: what it says on the tin! c: if there is something else you'd like to do together, don't be shy!))
burning dawn
Then he hears the voice and sees the red fabric, and he knows that his man must also be part of the simulation. Moving the through the haze, Loras blinks against the way the smoke burns his eyes. ]
There are too many to fight. [ He must have heard John's comment about them. ] Unless these people take to arms, there is little chance of getting through with force.
[ Despite the fire blazing around them, Loras seems relatively calm. Maybe it's because he knows this isn't real. ]
no subject
He swears again, low but with considerable gusto, before he thrusts a hand out towards a group of villagers.]
Well -- we've got to do something. They're like sitting ducks out there -- !!
no subject
A distraction, perhaps? The casualities would be limited, though it may provide time enough for some to flee.
[ Not an ideal situation, to be sure. ]
no subject
It will not work. Their focus is the destruction of the village itself. There's too much chaos as it is. Unless you are suggesting that we physically block their progress, they will not care.
[He casts a glance at the villagers themselves.] But we may see them safely away. As many as we can -- we can try--
no subject
[ Loras is certainly fine with running into battle, sword ablazing. He hasn't had a proper fight in ages. ]
Unless one of these villagers should happen to have a tunnel below their home, I fail to see how to get them out unseen and without resistance.
no subject
[Grey raises a hand to run through his hair, thinking fast as he watches the destruction before them. They don't have time for indecision. They must act now, while there are still villagers to save.]
How are you in a fight?
[It's as good a question to ask as any. It would not do to assume this man knows how to use that sword at his belt and get him killed for the mistake.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
some time later // nadril!!
Of all the faces he's seen, he didn't expect to see this one. Taking a cautious step toward him, Jamie's brow furrows just a bit. ]
John? Is it truly you?
no subject
I -- Mr. Fraser...?
[He stops in his tracks, taking in the appearance of the other man, trying not to let his surprise in seeing him show on his face. Trying not to let his pleasure show for that matter either.]
no subject
I didna ken we were to be so formal again as that.
[ Then, he thinks to ask the same thing Claire asked him. ]
What's the last thing ye remember? From before the storm, I mean.
no subject
I assume you are asking for a reason. To establish a point of common ground, perhaps?
[Grey raises an eyebrow at Fraser at that.] I could tell you of my trials in Germany, of course, though I doubt it would mean much in the end.
[Do not tell me I have broken your heart, I know better. Oh, Perseverance... If only you had known.]
no subject
I must tell ye John, I'm well beyond you in time. It's something that happens here, we wake up from different points. Something Claire assured me was normal.
[ He casually mentions his wife's name, watching John's face. He spoke of her enough, told John that it was her wisdom that helped him with the men's health in prison. ]
no subject
Grey's eyebrows draw together, before raising towards his forehead, his mouth falling open before he shakes his head at the other man. Jamie Fraser, calling him by his given name. Jamie Fraser, behaving as though he is honestly pleased to see him here in turn.
Well, he'll be damned.]
Assured you that it was normal. [He quirks an eyebrow at the other man, offering him a look as if to suggest what he thinks of that.] I can think of many different words to describe this particular situation I find myself in, Mr. Fraser, and none of them would be normal.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ALSO NADRIL what is time
Surprise, surprise.
John Grey isn't someone she hoped for, but there are worse people to come out of stasis.]
Lord John? Is that you?
[She's really only ever met him the once, powdered wig and all at his ball. Culloden doesn't count.]
no subject
Not so much for Grey, of course. It's not every day that one attempts to capture a well-known Jacobite, only to become captured himself, tricked into revealing the location of the army's artillery for the honor of a woman who ended up to be in no danger at all.
For her honor, as it turns out. Jamie Fraser's wife. Though he's honestly surprised she recognizes him at all, given how young he'd been at the time.]
Yes, I'm afraid so. Though I -- forgive me -- Mrs. Fraser?
[She's looking remarkably well, considering the fact that she's supposed to be dead, as far as he's aware.]
no subject
Yes. It's--been a while. For me, at least. [She has been here over a year, now. Time is strange.] I can't say I ever expected to see you, here, but--I'm glad for it.
[It's a little strained, the honesty in the words, but there is a truth in them. She never got to thank him for what he did for Jamie back when they were trying to rescue young Ian.]
no subject
His eyebrows are certainly raised at her in turn. Glad to see him? How in gods name does she even recognize him, after all these years? He had been sixteen at the time, and not even purchased his army commission yet.]
I -- daresay I'm surprised to hear that you are, madam. The circumstances upon which we last met were... Certainly less than ideal, on both our parts.
[She may have been playing a part, but he's still seen more of Claire than is technically proper. And she didn't seem to be particularly happy about it at the time either, come to that.]
no subject
Was your own ball that terrible?
no subject
I -- beg your pardon?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
A FORCED AWAKENING To be different!
If you could just turn off the noise for a minute--
[ Is what he's saying, when he notices Lord John wobbling precariously by the wall. ]
Hey, hey easy does it buddy.
[ He pockets his phone and reaches out to steady him, just in case he melts onto the floor -- then carefully tries to steer him away from... the vomit. ]
You look like you need to sit down a minute.
[ Somewhere... quiet. ]
no subject
Home.]
Oh... Jesus.
[There isn't a home to go back to, is there? There isn't an anything to go back to, that’s. Rather the point, hadn’t they said?
Another wave of ice water courses through him and he nods at the other man’s offer.]
Yes, I think -- I would be much obliged to you, sir...
[Here's hoping his words aren't coming out as thready as they feel.]
no subject
Don't you worry about it, come on. This way. Just let me know if you think you're gonna hurl again.
[ Ypplic perks up with a gentle chime, and trots alongside John. It looks like you're experiencing Stasis Sickness, it offers and he sighs. ]
Yes, we can see that. Thank you, but you stay out of this.
[ Why always do AIs love to bug him? He really wishes he knew. ]
no subject
Grey makes no effort to stop the other man from leading him down the hall and away from -- well, wherever here is, exactly. He casts a wary glance behind him at the pods behind them before his vision swims and he determines resolutely to keep his eyes firmly turned before himself instead. That is, until he catches sight of the little creature trotting along beside the other man.
Stasis Sickness indeed.]
Forgive me for so blunt a question sir, but. Did your -- dog? -- just speak?
no subject
[ Please, don't associate him with this terrible piece of programming.
Ypplic chimes again gently to get attention, and helpfully adds, My name is Yppilc, I will be your assi- ]
Nobody asked you. Listen, is there nobody else you can bother?
[ Ypplic is not discouraged, and continues following them as John gently leads Grey down the halls. ]
no subject
Lord John has never been one to have a weak constitution but just now he's feeling as if he really could use Hal's smelling salts just about now. Not just for the dog-creature, mind, but the whole series of events has been rather a bit much for a rationalist such as himself.]
Well. It seems to have a fondness for you. Whatever it is.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)