❪ test drive #4 ❫

[natha]

YOUR STORY BEGINS     The Storm came. You only remember darkness, but you don't remember much after that. All you know, perhaps, is that it was cold. You don't know for how long you slept, but the dreams were short, at least. You remember the expanse of stars and the universe that came in view. Every world and solar system ever known was displayed in your dreams in careful, pristine detail. You have also witnessed The Storm, which has devoured a fair portion of these galaxies. It was a dark, thick smog — ominous in appearance and ever foreboding. Your Earth and similar planets were immersed in The Storm. Somehow, you knew it would be the last you'd see of it. That was when she told you what happened, and how you could help. You knew that you'd be living somewhere new, even though you never asked for it. The details here weren't clear, but you knew you'd made a deal with Darma. Not long after, you'll wake at Thesa Station — your body is still cold. It all felt like a dream, but somehow, you knew it wasn't — now, will you keep that promise you made to Darma? PROMPT: THE STORM     CW: death You were awake on Thesa Station. But at some point you, like many other new arrivals before you, wandered into the Observation Deck. Ordinarily, this is where images of The Storm are replayed to remind Refugees of the fate they have escaped. The Natha Orbiters' technology has evolved. They are aware of your gaps in memory. You may have doubts of The Storm even existing, or of your world's destruction. Though they do not wish reliving those last moments on anyone, they have created an experience that will do just that. Before entering the Observation Deck, you are warned that what follows will not be for the weak of heart. As soon as you step in, you will find that the walls around you begin to transform and expand. Welcome to the Planet Cespi, in the Circinus Galaxy. Unfortunately, we were not able to save this world from The Storm's Consumption. These are its last memories. You are surrounded by blue, grassy hills as far as the eye can see and a pleasant breeze. The atmosphere is thick with a sickly sweet smell. Before you lays the scene of a quiet village, with its residents going about their everyday lives. You aren't alone, either, with an equally confused stranger (or perhaps you know each other?) surveying the scene. Then the world grows completely silent for a full minute. You and your partner are unable to make a sound, verbal or otherwise. Without warning, a deafening roar fills your ears and forces you to double over in pain. The villagers run out of their homes in a panic, finding themselves in just as much pain and confusion as you do. Where there was no sound before, now there is too much for a normal human body to process. Look up. An expanding mass of energy is swallowing everything you can see. It consumes the earth, the atmosphere, the depths of space — and it is getting closer. Your only hope is to outrun it, if you can. The people in the village certainly try to, racing past you. Their fear is very real. Their bodies are very real. You may be able to run from it for a time, only able to catch glimpses of this dark and sinister force swallowing everything and everyone. The earth rumbles and separates beneath you. Electricity surges through the sky, and then through your very body. You fought hard, but it is impossible to outrun the Storm forever. You too will be consumed. Your death is quick, but not painless. What were you thinking, before you took your last breath? You awaken back in the Observation Deck, next to your new friend. PROMPT: TRAINING MODULES     While it’s all nice and well to familiarize oneself with Thesa Station, it is most advised that new arrivals venture out a bit. Not physically. No one is quite prepared for that yet. However, there will be several virtual reality training programs set for those who dare to be adventurous. For those who aren’t and don’t dare, well — good luck, all the same. Once seated and appropriately strapped in, the system will automatically whir to life. 1. When you enter the Natha's newest program, at first nothing loads. You might think this is an error as you look around in apparent total darkness, only able to see your own virtual body if you look down, but soon enough a voice comes to life as if speakers have turned on somewhere. Long ago, the lands of El Nysa were dominated by the ancestors of the dragons who now live among the people, tamed. It was pretty dangerous! How about a little history lesson? And then the simulation comes to life— a. The lush lands that blossom to life around you all at once are real enough to make you forget you're in a simulation — at least for a moment. Those refugees who have been to the planet in reality before will find themselves in territory as unfamiliar as those who are brand new, as this simulation takes place far back in history. Instead of sprawling cities and civilizations, the most you'll find is scattered villages, many of them no more than nomadic campsites at best. You've been outfitted to blend in with the natives and these simulated people won't react to you as a newcomer, but as a member of their village. Are you a doctor, or perhaps a warrior? Maybe you're even in charge! But they want your help, and they want it quickly: a dragon is coming. The dragon is larger than the mount-sized breeds that exist on El Nysa today — much larger. It's a good six stories in height, bestial, and angry. Maybe it's then that you notice the lands that surround you are littered with scars of scorched earth, some of them several yards across, and there's a reason these people don't live in one place for very long. But don't linger too long on the makeshift grave markers sticking out of the burnt countryside — the dragon is coming. b. If you're looking for something a little less violent, perhaps another area of the historic simulation will be up your alley. This one finds you on a cliffside, waiting among other villagers for an event the people are talking about in hushed whispers, some of which you can identify as prayer. When the white dragon raises its head up from the depths of the ravine, towering impossibly high over you and the others on the cliffside, it's no wonder most of the natives fall to their knees in awe and wonder. This dragon doesn't attack, only looks at the people on land with an ancient and strange wisdom. Then it speaks. Not in words, but the low rumbling sound that starts in its throat and becomes a full trumpeting bellow to the sky seems to have meaning, and somehow, you can understand its cry as it entreats the people to praise and worship. The natives around you are already starting to give offerings with their prayers, food and carvings and — blood? Is that someone's arm being offered up? That's different. 2. Let us now travel forward in time, shall we? a. The Olympian settlement around you is quiet — until the screaming starts. Guerilla fighters from Wyver flood the streets, knocking civilians aside and breaking down doors and windows when they find their way barred. They move methodically, advancing toward the nicer parts of town where the politicians reside and leaving terror in their wake. They're here for the politicians, people say. They're here to punish the people who made the decision to advance into Wyver in the first place. Blood for blood, as the saying goes. Where they'll be taking them once they have them is anyone's guess. A soldier emerges from a building, dragging someone in elegant clothing out by the hair. Looks like they've found one. Will you rescue them? Make a run for it yourself, lest you be mistaken for one of their targets? Or maybe they've already caught you and some other unfortunate Refugee who's been dropped into this simulation, and the two of you need to figure out a way to escape. b. CW: branding You find yourself in the midst of a bustling crowd gathered at the Temple of Thesa. Robed acolytes stoke fires on either side of the altar at the front of the temple, where miserable-looking people who seem to be from a village in Wyver await, bound in ropes. The priest, at the front of the crowd, picks up a metal brand from the altar and gestures for another acolyte to bring a prisoner forward. The crowd watches with interest as the prisoner is forced to kneel in front of the altar, their arm laid out flat on the marble surface. Another cry — "For the glory of Olympia!" — and the crest of the city is burned into the prisoner's arm. The crowd cheers, deafening the cries of pain. The priest ushers forward another prisoner, and then another. Is that a familiar face you see in the lineup, thrust into this bit of history by the simulation's whims? You have to do something. Or are you unlucky enough to find yourself bound? ...Well, hopefully someone else in the crowd has more scruples than this priest. 3. And now, the present. After all those enlightening scenes, the simulation finally brings you to a more quiet area of Olympia. You are deposited out somewhere in The Outlook, a place the very first group of refugees had to trudge through before they found their homes. You've arrived in the early evening — but sunlight is waning, and soon you'll be under a sky full of stars. Luckily, their old campsites aren't too overgrown. The intention here is to get you familiar with some of the local flora and fauna. What sorts of plants will you encounter? Do you find yourself under a Verillum Tree, suddenly compelled to be painfully honest and truthful in conversation with a complete stranger? Find yourself behaving erratically in the presence of Whistleweed? Or perhaps you'll have to break the spell of being trapped in a Vena Amoris' vines... with a kiss. PROMPT: STASIS UNIT     You have found the massive section of Thesa known as the Stasis Unit. There’s no special access required to enter this part of Thesa Station, but refugees are warned that it may not be for the faint of heart. Here, in large pods that nearly cover every square inch of the space, are all of the people the Orbiters have managed to rescue. Your loved ones, your greatest enemy, your next door neighbor — you might find them here. These people are in a state of deep cryosleep. Due to the damaging effects of The Storm, their bodies are not yet ready to be awoken. PROMPT: OMAGE     Upon receiving your mobile phone, you will be asked to set a username. Voila, you can now access the network! You can choose to send a message to the entire network, specific usernames, or you can try out the Orbiters’ service, Omage, which connects you to a random user. They thought this might be a good way for their new guests to make friends with each other... Connecting to server... Looking for someone you can chat with... You’re now chatting with [username]... Say hi! PROMPT: WILDCARD     You are welcome to write any scenarios in Thesa Station! Characters have been granted temporary access to the Observation Room, and are encouraged to study it carefully. FINAL OOC NOTE     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! An AC-length thread may be submitted for 2 NATHA ORBITER REPUTATION POINTS after acceptance here. Please submit by February 18th. We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for REP. There will be an application cap of 60, and no reserves. Please read here for more information. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

module 2b

[panzersoldat]

[ Looks like someone got a twofer. Because there's a huge older man, also in chains. He's frowning, the scowl looking utterly unaccustomed to his face, like he doesn't make such an expression often. It lines his face, making him look a little older, a little more worn. There's a sharp look in that one eye of his and his hands are resting on the chains. He's not super-strong like Jack, he's not SEP enhanced, but he's strong enough to lift his hammer. Strong enough to lift a lot of things. He's certain he can snap some chains.

There's a large blond man near to him mutter and he looks to the man and for a moment there is a nod and then... ] No. I won't go. I will let them drag me up there...and then I'm going to punch every last one of those priests in their stupid faces. Let they think they have us, then...I break every bone in their terrible bodies for this all. [ It's not very knightly, but Reinhardt is angry. He's very angry about all of this. Angry about the whole idea of this forced slavery. A little play acting would go a long way to getting him where he needs to be to right this wrong. ] Of course, you're welcome to join me. Or if you're planning on just going, you can help get all of these poor people to safety. [ Either way, people are getting punched in the face. ]

[wallofbriggs]

We're the only ones with access to this technology, so yes.

[micromania]

It can't be enough just to house people away from this...storm. [ Farah shakes her head a little, eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. ] There has to be some way to stop it.

don't judge him, he tries really hard

[pebblestone]

You were going to wreck a wedding?

[ He's so flabbergasted right now, send help. ]

Why in Naga's name would you ever do such a thing? Shouldn't you be wishing for the happiness and health of those who are joining themselves in union?

[icingonthecake]

Oh, maybe she's from a world where they don't have video games. Shame, really, if that's the case.

"Oh, yeah, they're... it's a game you play on a computer," he explains, swirling one hand in the air as he tries to find a simple way to put it. "Like what they've done here, sort of, but on a much smaller, less complicated scale. Like a movie you can interact with."

When she admits she's not sure about the plant, he inches a bit closer to it, dropping to a crouch to squint in the semidarkness, but makes sure to keep out of arm's reach. He's seen some crazy stuff in this simulation these Orbiters have cooked up, and he really wouldn't put it past them to have aggressively prehensile flora, to be honest.

"Doesn't look like any sort'a plant I've ever seen," he admits, "so I think I will err on that better part of valor and give it a wide berth." He looks over his shoulder at the girl, tilting his head curiously. "Not entirely yourself, huh?" he echoes, and gives a faint smile. "Well, who are ya, then?" he asks, teasing gently. It's kind of nice, he thinks, knowing that he doesn't have to abide by the Organization's rules, here. He doesn't have to steer clear of the natives, doesn't have to keep his words quite so cryptic and guarded. It's been so long since he's really had the luxury to be conversational with anyone but Roxas and Xion; these are muscles he hasn't stretched in a while.

She makes a subtle invitation for him to join her on the log, and he gets back to his feet, moving to do so. He sits down gingerly, like he's not sure of the structural integrity of the log, making sure to keep a respectable distance between himself and the stranger. She seems just as cautious as he is, all things considered: she's polite, but her friendliness is more courtesy than an active desire to make small talk, he thinks. Caution isn't a bad thing, especially in a strange new place, after all. There's something about her, though, and he still can't put his finger on it... something ethereal, like she's not quite all there. It's an odd sort of thing to feel kinship over, but he's not quite human, himself, at the moment.

He ponders her question a moment, then smiles, giving half a shrug.

"I'm not really a camping trip singalong kind'a guy," he admits. "I tend to prefer my own company, when my usual company of choice isn't available." He lifts his eyebrows inquiringly. "Same for you?" he asks. "Or... y'ain't lost, are ya?"

[pussywhips]

[ You know, of everything that's going on right now, the fact that this guy apparently knows her name already catches off guard the most. Like, even more than the dragon. She stops to look at him, trying to figure out if she can place his face.

Nope, no dice. ]

Um—huh? Do we know each other?

[ Like, he's not... he's not a stalker or something, is he? Usually the people who recognize her from her modelling work are either pretty respectful or the complete opposite—either way, they don't usually go for nicknames like Ann-a Banana. ]

[originallutece]

Is it not enough that it flew? That usually tends to awe people on its own.

[poolhall_killer]

I've not had any complaints regarding allergies.

[At least not amongst the refugees.]

And I make sure to keep it as clean as possible. If they bring their concerns to me, I will take care of it.

[sorry you're not getting that lap dance, bucko]

[dorzalta]

"I dreamt of the stars and the Great Stallion's fiery khalasar. She said Westeros was gone."

There was more, but she's no desire to dwell upon that conversation. Yet. Again, much like her dragons, there were other matters to discuss. Things to learn once she acclimated enough. If those who had saved she and Jon had saved his direwolf, then perhaps her dragons were spared as well. If she'd slept for nearly a year, then there were other matters to tend to before she demanded her reunion with Drogon and Rhaegal.

It was clear this time of separation between them was riddled with unpleasantness for Jon, though to what extent, she cannot say. Not all of it was terrible if his family was here, though. She was grateful for that. Fingers tracing his brow, her eyes flick over his features, recommitting them to memory.

And then the hint of a smile, like the one when he'd joked about them being fucked, tilts her lips. Not quite timid--a dragon never could be--but still all the same with him.

"What else do you do? Start from the beginning, and then we'll move on to the rest of it."

listen...i'd say im sorry about him but...he's eternally a petty ten year old so

[reek]

It’s true that nothing about this Theon is humble, but he still lacks his sister’s confident air. Instead, he’s wounded, angry, and hateful, and he poorly masks it all with those horrible smirks. Smiles and laughter act as Theon’s armor, just as good as any plate or mail. When a man laughs, he cannot be accused of being weak. Dany's cutting look seems to have little effect on him, as his smirk only widens, and suddenly, he bursts out with another bark of laughter.

He very well might be mad, given what stark contrast this behavior stands in to the Theon that Daenerys knows. At times, he believes himself to be mad, just like his uncles. So little makes sense to him here. He remembers one thing, someone else remembers something else, and in the end he had accepted the only explanation that had given his racing mind any sense of ease: everyone else is lying to him. It was Ramsay who had roped him in with that logic, and even though Ramsay has returned to stasis, Theon remains firmly under his influence.

"I have only have one sister, and neither of us have ever met the likes of you."

He recalls Jon’s ridiculous story about how he’d supposedly bent the knee to this woman as well. He snorts. The only king he’s ever pledged loyalty to was Robb, and he broke that bond of trust. He doesn’t intend to repeat the process.

"I’ve known Jon Snow for half my life. As you’ve been so deprived, would you like me to voice my grievances with him now?" He doesn’t wait for a response. "He’s a surly bastard who never learned how to smile without looking as though he’s in pain, thinks his life is harder than anyone else’s, never learned the proper form to shoot an arrow, and he’s a fucking liar." The last word comes out in a snarl. And that, uh…that sure was something.

[selfservice]

[he's a tree that talks, the bar is a lot higher here]

Well, it's no city, certainly not, but I was until recently the owner of a flying wagon, myself! It's much smaller, to be sure!! But, you know. [He shrugs one shoulder and kind of wiggles his hand, like yeah, but where did the city go...]

[adelphoi]

[ that smile warms her heart, and alisaie finds herself exhaling a trembling breath, her vision blurring, thick with hot tears - gods, she needs to stop with all of this crying nonsense, but i suppose nothing brings things in perspective quite like an apocalypse. ]

Aye, of course it is.

[ she says with her customary flash of sass, but its effect is a bit diminished by the way her voice trembles, and how she lifts her eyes, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. ]

It has.. been some time, my friend.

[poolhall_killer]

I keep my methods as low-profile as possible. I may be living a more-or-less ordinary life here, but old habits such as this won't be going away.

[He'll understand as he'd feel the same way.]

[reek]

I'm not a child.

[ GEE THEON YOU SURE ACT LIKE ONE ]

[originallutece]

What powered it?

[A wagon, good grief.]

a little too hard

[logpose]

No way! Screw that! We were going to bring the groom back, and then high tail it outta there! Everyone else can go screw themselves!


-- Though, I guess he's fine now! [ Just asleep. ]

[diplomatie]

[ Alphinaud ends up a little surprised himself, as he wasn't quite expecting magic to burst through and save him. But it takes him mere moments to look into the crowd and notice the miqo'te man standing there, the obvious source of said magic, and he gives a strong nod in agreement to his words before glancing back at his still-reeling captors, then running off to be with X'rhun. ]

My thanks. [ Seriously. He's going to repay this later. ] Lead on.

[ Because he doesn't know where he's going and maybe this guy does. ]

[willrevile]

[ He smiles. ] Somewhat.

[ Jim doesn't think too highly of setups like that, even though he knows there are members of the Federation that have completely fine, even excellent rulers, and long histories of monarchs with wholly benevolent hearts. It's just his gross United Earth socialist germs, can't be helped.

Though, something occurs to him-- ]

I've heard of Barrayar before, I think. Someone on [ the last TDM i didn't have time to app over the holidays don't look at meeee ] the network had mentioned it.

[pebblestone]

[ This language is killing him, please stop, Nami. Actually he's so affronted by it he doesn't reply for a whole thirty seconds, too busy staring at his mobile device in disgust. ]

Surely there are better ways to resolve the matter at hand, if you disagreed so much to the wedding. Why did you not express your feelings when the proposal first happened?

[dendarii]

[ Socialism, bah. Try straight up feudalism after being cut off from the rest of the Nexus for seven hundred years, that'll learn you.

Despite his previous assertions that this is all a dream - and claiming to be a mercenary admiral rather than a Barrayaran - Miles can't help but brighten. ]

Really? Someone else is here? Did you happen to catch their name?

[logpose]

[ this username tho... ]

Yeah, I heard. A couple months is still way too long, especially when we don't even know if they'll wake up or not!

[icingonthecake]

Axel snorts an audible laugh this time. "Tell us how ya really feel," he says, but it's not derisive. He's inclined to agree, for the most part. All the worlds he's traveled to, all the cultures he's seen, all the people he's encountered, he's never once come across anyone whose gods lived up to all the hype. Even the beliefs he grew up with, worshiping the Light, evading the Darkness, well... Yeah, he kinda screwed the pooch on that one, and the thing is, he remembers. He remembers crying out for that Light to save him, when his world was crumbling away, when his heart was stolen from his chest. He had cried for the Light to save him, to save his world, to fight off that Darkness, and the Light had failed him. It had failed everyone.

Shaking those thoughts away, Axel grins at the other man then. He's gruff and surly and a smile would probably crack that stony face of his, but Axel has years of experience with grouchy linefaces. He kind of likes this guy's style.

"I'll drink to that," he says. "I'll take the predictable evil over the one I can't read, any day." Not that he wants to be eaten, but it's better to know what to plan for. "Well, way I see it, we can either join these lunkheads on their knees and hope we don't get eaten... or we can make a discreet exit stage left and... hope we don't get noticed and eaten." He gestures down to his ridiculous period clothing. "I, for one, am not interested in getting mud all over these fine... uh..." He plucks at the fabric. "Tights. How about you?"

[nineteenfortyfive]

[There's a brief look of surprise before it turns into one of understanding. Claire nods, glancing at the pod.]

The dead aren't exempt from being saved from the Storm. I have a dead husband in there, too.

[Just like a spare coat. Claire almost cringes at the thought, but shakes her head, pushing it away.]

Anyone could be in here.

omage

[icingonthecake]

Nobody: So I gotta ask, are we talking literal thunder? Like with lightning?

[He's had some... traumatic experiences with a certain individual who could sling lightning, you see. Nothing personal, he just wants to know what he's dealing with.]

[exaomori]

[it's a great one she's had it for years]

there's nothing to stop people from going back to sleep after waking up, either. it's all suspicious