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Entry tags:
❪ test drive #9 ❫
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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! |
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[A long unpleasant story that he would really prefer not to be telling now. Or ever for that matter. There's what is clearly a repressed sigh, but he brightens a pinch.]
Oh right. Allura's here. Not here-here, but you know. [Gesturing vaguely with a shackled hand.] Out there in the real world. [There's a beat, and then he adds in a notably flatter tone:] Keith's here, too.
[But whatever the reason for that drop in energy doesn't go explained. Instead Lance continues.]
Anyway, there any chance your new... uh... floaty glowy roboarm can do that cool thing where you turn it into a sword?
[Is this an upgrade or a downgrade, space dad?]
this tag just gave me an excuse to use this icon and i'm oddly pleased lmf
he can ask questions later. mostly … he would like to know why the other seems to lose some of his steam when he mentions keith, because they seem to have made so much progress in working together, but. it isn't going to do him any good to assume or speculate, so he isn't going to.
he looks down at his arm at the question, flexes his fingers. it's. technically? an upgrade?? or so he likes to think so, since it has its own power source and packs a mean punch when it needs to. but.
well, that's it, isn't it? he ends up chuckling a little sheepishly. ) I don't think so. Unless it goes wild while I'm asleep. ( coming from a point where he's still getting used to the darn thing in the first place, this is all he's got to go on. sorry, lance.
also, this is assuming he can even sleep with that stupid thing glowing like it does. anyway. ) So it's not going to be of any more help than you might expect. ( shiro, it's a floating arm. anything is possible.
except it kind of isn't. )
nice. it's a good icon too, hah
[Look, he's never seen this arm before, he has no idea if "going wild in Shiro's sleep" is a flippant comment based on something that's actually happened before or not. It's utterly besides the point, but Lance gives the arm another uncertain glance.
But as uncertain as he is, he forces himself to try and refocus on the more pressing issue of how the heck they're getting out of here. The screaming from outside the room comes to an abrupt stop, causing Lance to wince. The guards will be coming back in for their next victim shortly afterwards.]
Ok. Ok. So no sword thing. Gotcha. So we gotta rely on stealth and as luck would have it, you're looking right at the grandmaster of all things sneaky, so just leave it up to me. When the lizard men start opening the door, just grab my hand and we'll walk right on out of here.
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no, really, he's trying to keep the mood light so neither of them have any sort of freakout session, even in his own case it will be more of an internalizing of past experiences that may or may not have found him waking up from hellish nightmares; he accompanies that question with a slight tilt of his head, like maybe he thinks an answer is coming but isn't expecting it. mostly, it helps to keep the conversation light.
now. he isn't about to shoot down anything lance says because he's clearly dealt with this before — something that he'll have to ponder once they're out, because ( no offense! ) when he thinks about a word like stealth, the other's name isn't exactly the first he would think to attach to it. that doesn't mean anything, of course, because he's clearly missing something here. which. isn't all that surprising.
it's clear in his expression that he wants to ask why, but he doesn't want the other to take that to mean he doesn't believe he'll be able to get them out of there. so! he nods, and casts a surreptitious glance toward the door, even if he knows they have a little bit of time yet. ) All right, grandmaster. What happens once we're outside? ( because it can't be that easy, can it?
it's never that easy. )
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I dunno? Maybe you were sleepwalking or something and someone saw you, you know... walking around the castleship while your arm was transforming into things or doing hula hoops or something nutty.
[...There may be a lot to unpack in that.
Lance can't help but grinning broadly at Shiro going along with this grandmaster thing, but it does register as a little odd? Not that he'd ever hold it against -- wait, now that Shiro's here, does that make him leader over Keith again? That's something t think about for later -- Shiro, but the guy had been so easily irritable that this easy going attitude in this absolutely terrible situation has him wondering if things are actually okay.]
Well, once we both get past the guards and make it out of the cell without them noticing, the simulation stops and we get to be back to the real world. [...Maybe he should make another?? attempt?? to see if Shiro's gonna tell him to knock it off??]
Unless you mean beyond that, in which case we're definitely throwing you a super sick party for waking up from your beauty sleep!
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now, at the mention of the castle-ship, he does well enough to keep his expression neutral; that lance would automatically bring it into conversation when it's been gone for a considerable amount of time gives him pause, like there's something wrong with that but he doesn't dwell on it. can't, because now isn't the time and maybe they can figure it out later, when they're not both in danger of having their ( at least in this case, simulated ) lives cut short.
they're going to have time to talk once they're out of here. they have to, because it seems like there's going to need to be a lot of it.
instead, all he says is: ) If my arm ever does hula hoops, you'll be the first to know. Promise. ( because for some reason, that seems like the right thing to say. right now, at least.
even if there are going to be all manner of things to unpack from this once they're out of here; it's something he can think about more clearly once they're out of here at all, and wouldn't you know it, he's so confident in lance's ability to lead them into safety that he's stopped worrying entirely about his impending death … which of course is the best course of action here.
and. maybe the whole grandmaster thing will stay in place even once they're back in the ( relative ) safety of the real world. maybe. that remains to be seen. ( it absolutely will. ) ) You are not throwing a party just for that. ( does it look like he's grimacing? he might be close to it. or maybe scowling? one of the two. ) Let's just … work on getting past the guards. ( come on, grandmaster. let's do this. )
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Pinky promise? [Okay so maybe now he's too relaxed. Hastily he puts up his hands like he just got caught stealing cookies or something:] Kidding!
[He has no need for pinky promises with space dad!! Obviously. But all joking-not joking aside, Lance does take the surprisingly gentle redirection to heart. If Shiro's gotten over whatever was causing him so much stress while catching some zzz's while in stasis, that's probably a good thing and not something he should be questioning right this second.]
We can negotiate the party. [They're definitely throwing some kind of party. Too bad, space dad. More seriously, he looks towards the door, frowning. Following the abrupt silence, there's the sound of something being dragged along the floor, a thump, and then... approaching footsteps.]
Right. Time to get my cloak on. [Then looking back at Shiro, he holds out his hand.] Hold tight and don't let go. [A beat.] ....And maybe give me your floaty arm, too. Don't worry I won't break it or anything, it'll be in good hands.
[...Lance.]
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lance might be kidding about the pinky promise thing, but it's just one more thing for shiro to go along with, and he briefly raises his left hand with all of his fingers folded down into his palm save for the smallest one. ( lance doesn't actually have to follow through with the motion, because it's more of a show of good faith than anything else, but we thought it might be a nice touch. )
his smile is still there, by the way, even as he lowers his arm again.
but there might just be an almost-groan at the mention of a you-just-woke-up-from-stasis party. ) No party, Lance. I'm serious. ( does he sound serious? kind of, but his tone is still soft without any real edge to it, which is about as firm as he's going to get in this situation.
now, he might look confused when lance holds out his hand like he does — why is holding hands necessary? did he just say something about a cloak? what is this — but he looks even more confused when the other asks for his arm, and not just for the wording he uses. still … if there had ever been a time to trust lance when he felt so sure about something, this is surely it. so. he extends that floating arm for him to grab while also. tentatively taking hold of his outstretched hand with human fingers. ) I won't lie, I have no idea what you've got planned here —
( but i trust you. )
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Ok.
So Shiro's reaaaaaaally mellowed out while in stasis if that pinky promise gesture is anything to go by, and Lance still feels a little bit like he might be watching a malfunctioning roomba being adorable, but whatever the heck's going on, iit's not something he's going to figure out by staring at Shiro. They don't have time for this, or for bantering about this party that they are definitely going to have.]
Well you see... [He'll grab onto both the floating arm and Shiro's huma arm tight.] ... we're going on a journey. We're buzzing right on out of the visible spectrum and zipping right on out of here in style when that door opens, easy mode.
[He can turn invisible -- god why can't he just say that. Lance closes his eyes, concentrating. Shiro won't feel an change, but just like that Lance vanishes and if he looks down at his own body, he'll find he's not there either.]
And poof! See? They'll never see us coming. You can hold the applause for later though, they can still hear us.
[And though there isn't a face to see, it's obvious that he's grinning as he tugs Shiro up to his feet. Come on, space dad. Time to wait for the lizard men to come through that door....]
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and a pinky promise for the whole arm thing, which is ridiculous all on its own, but the effort seems to have calmed the other down a little in the interim, and that's good enough for him.
at the very least, now, he'll keep his mouth shut and just trust that lance knows what he's doing — because clearly he's been out of stasis longer, clearly he knows a thing or two about what's going on around here and. clearly … he's picked up some new powers along the way?
because sure enough, when he looks down it's like he's just poofed out of existence, and while it catches him by surprise and he has questions he'll hold them for when there's time to both ask and get answers. he knows better than to let his curiosity get the better of him now, when they're still waiting to get back into the clear.
still. he can hear the sound of that grin in his voice. he doesn't need to see it. ) I can't exactly applaud when you have my other hand, anyway. ( there's a tiny bit of laughter in his own voice, because that joke … just needed to be made, because it's keeping up with the thread of the conversation, and is helping to keep them both away from the edge of anxiety.
well, it is for him, anyway. ) Nice trick, though. You'll have to tell me how you learned it once we're out of here. ( tell him your secrets, grandmaster. )
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Obviously, he missed Shiro a lot. Might've babbled at him a bunch of times while the guy was still sleeping in his pod and there was nobody else to talk to in the treehouse and he was feeling lonely, but amidst all the chaos of following the guy into this damn simulation, it hadn't really clicked into place just how relieved he is to be having a real and proper conversation with Shiro again.
Lance grasps Shiro's hands -- both human and mechanical -- tighter for a moment.]
You bet, Shiro. We can trade stories all day.
[Just as soon as they're out of this hiccup.
The footsteps outside come to a halt and Lance snaps his face towards the door, tugging Shiro along. The guards move with laser precision; they've "processed" so many prisoners that they move swiftly and efficiently. The heavy door swings open and the prisoners shrink back, desperately trying not to draw attention to themselves.
Though Lance knows he guards can't physically see them, he still holds his breath as two pass him to yank their next victim up onto their feet.]
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he won't know about those conversations unless the other chooses to tell him about them, though it would stand to reason that they would be something he would want to keep to himself and he wouldn't blame him; the things one might talk about when they think it's all going unheard tend to be the most honest ones, the most incriminating ones when it all comes down to it, when secrets are spilled after being kept for so long. or maybe it's something as simple as relaying the details of the mundane day-to-day because there's no one else to talk to.
whatever it is, shiro would be more than endeared that lance had chosen him to ramble at while he was still asleep. more than endeared. and they're going to have so much catching up to do once this is all said and done.
and maybe he's holding his breath, too, even though they're going unseen; when the door opens for another prisoner to be retrieved, he swears his heart moves up into the back of his throat where it stays, lodged in a way that no amount of swallowing around the lump will dislodge it, and even though this is nothing more than a simulation, nothing else has ever felt so real. nothing else has ever filled him with so much dread.
except, maybe, his time spent with the galra. but that's neither here nor there.
his voice drops low, barely even a whisper as the fingers of his human hand squeeze lance's own in reassurance. ) You've got this, Lance. ( a beat. ) I believe in you.
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A guard snaps their face towards them, ears sharp as it catches this disembodied whispering, fixing both of them with a cold, inhuman stare. Lance stops breathing entirely, suddenly afraid that even that might attract more attention. His hand tightens around Shiro's human one, both wanting to comfort and to be comforted. The moment passes as the guard turns away from the wall, but there's a bead of cold sweat trickling down Lance's forehead.
Their next victim lets out a sob as she's hauled up onto her feet. Wild-eyed and desperate, she digs her fingers into the crevices between the stone walls, screaming as she's ripped away by the chains. The next few seconds pass in the blink of an eye, yet Lance sees it all like it's in stroboscopic motion. As the prisoner whirls on her heel, the momentum carries her directly towards the wall where he and Shiro are hiding in plain sight.
They're only invisible, they're not intangible and the guards are definitely going to notice if the woman crashes into something that's not there.
We have to move!
Grabbing Shiro's arm, he tugs as hard as he can, trying to get them both headed towards the door before anything else can happen.[