❪ 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

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Solas |Dragon Age Inquisition

[carefulapostate]

[Training Modules: Prompt 1a]

[Solas watched others prepared for battle, but did nothing to aid them. To his understanding, none of this was real. Not even like watching memories in the Fade, at least then there were spirits he could interact with.

No, this was a soulless memory, the people involved were already generations dead. Learning of this world he would be forced to visit would be wise. However once the battle got started he likely looked a bit cruel-hearted, simply stepping over the injured rather than treating them, in favor of getting a better vantage point of what was going on.]

[Training Modules: Prompt 1b]

[At first solas was pleased to partake in a less tumultuous view on the history, though he was finding the dragons less impressive than ones he had seen in the past. At least this one seemed somewhat intelligent, though the whole worship of it left a sour taste in his mouth. Too familiar.

The offering up of someone's limb made it too familiar to stand, so he just turned leave. He was done here. He didn't cause the collapse of the Elvhen empire just to see things like this again.]

I am leaving.

[A simple announcement to the person next to him, given that they did not seem to be from here either.]

[Training Modules: Prompt 2b]

[For most of this entire history lesson, he willingly chose to remain on the sidelines, simply observing. So far his opinion of this world was plummeting at rapid speeds, and the branding was only adding to that. This place seemed to have all the faults of Elvhenan but with none of its merits, not that Elvhenan had many merits, but it did have them.

He was snapped from his brooding when he notes someone that should not belong being dragged forward. They were not a part of this memory- not naturally. The rest of this was a simple illusion, but he did not know what the effect would be on those here should they be harmed. So with a sigh he stepped forward to intercept the next prisoner, though he doesn't look particularly pleased about it.]

You cannot mark this one, they are needed for questioning immediately.

[Since bullshitting on the spot was practically a hobby at this point.]

[Prompt: Stasis unit]

[Solas scoured the rows of those from his world, looking for familiar faces. He finds them, but not the ones he was expecting. His usually schooled vidage immediately turned bitter at one presence in particular.

Falon'din.

Of all the worthwhile lives they could have chosen to save, they instead chose him? He studied the odd device holding him in hopes of finding some way to perhaps... turn it off. Maybe break it. If Falon'din was truely plagued by some disease then maybe doing so would actually kill him. Permanently. Then others would not have to worry about him taking up valuable air.

He was possibly looking a bit shifty as he was searching for such a means, as he did not even have it in him to pretend to look anything but repulsed by the individual in the pod.]

[Prompt: Omage]

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with...
You’re now chatting with [is this require5]... Say hi!

Required? I would rather not.

omage; un: rift jobs

[riftjob]

That's not a hello.

[carefulapostate]

[There is a delay in his responds as he takes a moment to seriously judge the name presented, though upon fiddling a bit to learn more of the one that responded he discovered that - oh. Oh no.

There was a relief of course, no small amount of it, but given their... complicated relationship and the terms they parted ways on, she was not one he would have liked to face again. He could just ignore it. Pretend he did not see it, but no, that may draw attention as well.

So begrudgingly, very begrudgingly:]

Nor was it intended to be.

[riftjob]

I knew someone once. Terrible people skills, really, it was like he didn't even bother trying. For someone so lonely, you'd think he'd have made an effort, but now I wonder if he even knew how.

So you start with a 'hello'.

( insert warcraft joke about elves and trolls here.

she shouldn't abuse his willingness to hold a conversation with her like this. yet she can't be stopped. unstoppable force of nature, that's her. tempest and all. )

[carefulapostate]

[If only the exasperated sigh could be heard over text. Though he knows he deserves no less, so he cannot fault her ire. He never could. It seems that, for the moment, they had a moment. Here their duties could not pry them apart, and while he knew it would be for the best if he simply kept his distance, there was a selfish part of him that felt compelled to indulge her.]

Hello.

[That counts as indulging, right?]

[riftjob]

( it does, and she'll take it. )

Hello. Been keeping yourself busy?

( an idle question, because they can't really afford to have anything else. no in depth conversations about feelings or getting him to stop. instead: just this. small talk around the issues that really mattered. )

[carefulapostate]

Given the circumstances, it is difff

[He was about to brood further on the awkward and stilted conversation but he was momentarily distracted by trying to figure out just how he was supposed to redo words. This little arrow pointing back should be it by all logic and yet-]

difficult to be anything but.

Prompt 1b

[diamondize]

[It's all so fascinating on an almost horrifying level. Diamond's taken to wearing a scarf over their head so as not to be drawing too much attention to their own inhumanity since their hair tends to reflect light like, well, a diamond. And the last thing they need is for the dragon or one of its followers to decide they're sparkly enough to be offered up as well.

The offering up of limbs is--disturbing, a little bit, but then again Diamond's people break and lose limbs and parts all the time, and it's really only a bother when they can't collect all the pieces together.

The announcement startles them a little and they peek at Solas around the headscarf, a bit confused before they seem to realize that Solas, too, is not from around here, so to speak.]

Ah... Alright. I'll go too. [They don't particularly want to stick around alone here, though they cast a curious glance between Solas and the other organics. This guy would probably know better than they did, right? So--] The limbs... Don't they need those?

[carefulapostate]

[The... odd question earned the young woman a quick glance over, it was something he would expect of a naive spirit such as Cole, but your typical adult. But ah, there was a curious tint to her eyes, perhaps she was not what he has originally thought.

Regardless, the discovery would not put him in a better mood.]

Unless there is some unique adaptation to the biology of those here, then yes they generally do.

[diamondize]

[Diamond makes a humming noise of acknowledgement of this new information, but the concerned look doesn't dissipate.]

And... They don't reattach so easily, right? Aren't they afraid of the memories they'll lose?

[But then Diamond pauses and looks a bit sheepish] Ah, but...It probably doesn't work that way for them. So why would they...? [Diamond shakes their head, perplexed] I'm afraid I can't understand.

[carefulapostate]

To my knowledge they don't reattach at all.

[At least not in modern Thedas, which considering that was the facade he intended to keep up. There were discrepancies in people's knowledge, so the safer he played it the better. However that often seemed to lead to the problem that people noticed he was agitated, yet were never granted context. That was something he had yet to be bothered by, personally.

Still, it was difficult to dwell completely on his anger when posed with such odd questions. He always respected those with questions, he was just unused to such bizarre ones.]

Most do not story memories within their limbs, but removing them can lead to a number of problems. Such wounds are severe, and if not treated in a timely fashion the patient can bleed out. The wound may even become infected after it is treated, which may require even further removal of the limb. [And he'll just continue on with the gorey details while trying to forget he did this to his ex....]

[diamondize]

[Diamond listens with an intense fascination, looking a mix of intrigued and a bit grossed out the gorier it goes.] Organic beings are so...messy... [Jesus. Diamond isn't really sure if they're impressed or what.]

For us, as long as all the pieces are recovered, we can be put back together again with little problem. I feel so sorry for them... [Poor organic creatures. It's a sad life when a papercut could possibly kill you and you leak all the time.]

training 1b

[judicia]

( It's a pretty fair assumption, given that Anders doesn't look anywhere near as eager as the others do about sacrificing one of his limbs to the white dragon. Been there, done that. It was only a surgical cut to his wrist, but it was an experience that Anders hopes he never has to repeat.

He looks over his shoulder, watching the elf stalk away in disgust before ultimately deciding to follow. )

Don't tell me you're scared of a little blood.

[carefulapostate]

No.

[It's spat out curtly and bitterly. And despite not being asked he just continues on a tirade after a momentary pause as he made a weak attempt to bite back his opinion. A very weak attempt, because he was right on this subject and people needed to be made aware.

Also he was projecting his own personal experiences here, and was taking this more personally than he should be.]

That creature is no deity, merely some powerful beast! It is not worth such a tragic waste of a life! If this is the sort of foolishness we have to expect from the world below, then there is likely nothing short of a miracle to push them towards acting like civilized nations!

[judicia]

( His sudden, unrestrained anger doesn't seem to be the least bit off-putting to the man beside him. He could understand it — not completely, of course — but he could understand why the stranger would be disappointed in the people who chose to mangle their bodies in the name of some fear-driven religion.

He quickly puts to rest one of the elf's assumptions, though, his voice soft in an attempt to sound comforting. )

It's not like that down there. The dragons, they're nothing more than pets and mounts to the people that live there now. No one worships them anymore.

[carefulapostate]

[Perhaps it would have appeased anyone else, but this one was too jaded and full of cynicism to think it was just THAT easy. There was some reason for him to nitpick the practices of the world below and he knew it.]

And what, pretell, do they worship now?

[judicia]

The moons.

( Believe him, he knows how ridiculous it sounds. The corners of Anders' lips curl up slightly as he gives the stranger a shrug. )

They believe that their gods live up there, watching them. I don't know if I'd go so far as to call the Natha gods, but they are pretty much right about that last part.

u know what this is

[flashystyle]

[Dorian doesn't frequent the cryopods. There isn't much reason to sit and wallow, when all but one person he knows from his homeland is dead or dead to him. But around the time others reawaken, he does -rather foolishly -allow himself to hold out some small hope that he might run into his fellow Inquisition members. Some that might lighten the load, joke with him about the demise of the world. They were always quite good at that, even if it were at his expense.

Solas is not one of those members. In fact, in his most recent memory, Solas made it his job a lot harder! So Dorian doesn't greet him with a smile when he lays eyes on him, or even make himself known for a minute. He leans against one of the pods down the aisle, crossing his arms over his chest. It gives him time to think, hm...]

What was it... Oh! By the Dread Wolf, is that Solas I see?

Do I? DO I?

[carefulapostate]

[Begrudgingly forced to look up from his diligent work trying to do a public service.
He had hoped he would not encounter anyone familiar with him, at least not familiar with him for what he was. He heaved a sigh and straightened himself up, folding his hands behind his back.]

Dorian.

[There. That's the greeting he gets, because he's just going to ignore that whole wolf thing he did there.]

it's LATE is what it is, if you just want to wait for the intro bc i'm slow rn that's also fine

[flashystyle]

Not even putting in the effort for a thinly veiled insult? I suppose that is an insult in itself, but...

[He looks between Solas and the other Evanuris, raising his brows as if to ask really?]

Someone you know, then? Oh, no, let me guess! You have Corypheus beat for world's-longest-grudges, and this is another ancient enemy of yours.

No we're doing this. WE ARE DOING THIS.

[carefulapostate]

[He continued to ignore Dorian's pointed jabs, if he rose to the bait he knew they would continue their petty bickering for the entire day and get nowhere... not that he could always help himself, but the effort was being made to just pretend that Dorian was speaking in plain civilized words rather than his roundabout insulting mouth noises.

It was somewhat easier when there was some loathsome wretch in the pod before him where he could properly focus his desire to be scornful.]

That is nothing worth wasting time discussing. It is irrelevant now.

[A rare case of someone he loathed enough to refer to as a "that", not that his question dodging in an of itself wasn't an obvious clue that Dorian hit the nail on the head.]

How long have you been awake?

[flashystyle]

Seven months.

[There isn't any humor in his answer, no "oh, I don't, know, about seven months of being without your wondrous company" or "seven months of enjoying your absence." It's simply seven months, with Dorian's dry smile sliding off his face. It's not something to brag about, being here.]

You've slept longer, I'm told.

[carefulapostate]

[He nodded, but his gaze turned away at the mention of his slumber. The faintest hint of guilt over it all. There was nothing that could have been done then, and there was even less that could be done about it now however. Seven months was very little on the grand scheme of things- perhaps not to Dorian, but given the magnitude of situation, he would have many years ahead of him trying to rectify this.]

How many others from Thedas have wakened?

[Imperative knowledge, though he wouldn't be surprised if Dorian would be less than willing to indulge his questions.]

Stasis unit

[heraldsdawn]

[ Perhaps it's chance or fate that leads Lavellan here today but it has him stumble across a certain egghead. There's a surprised expression to the young man's face that hasn't quite decided if he should be happy or sad. After all, lots of his friends had apparently known a different Inquisitor. Would this be another?

Regardless, as he approaches he catches that expression on Solas' face. He's seen Solas get angry like that one time or another and it strongly resembles the one when they had to save their spirit friend. The young man's eyes shift to the pod to see another elf lying in the pod, and he looks curiously. Was this someone Solas knew?

Deciding to finally to make his presence known he finally steps forward so Solas can see him. ]

Someone you know? Or has this one also stolen an ancient elven artifact and causing unknown terror?

[ The second part definitely sounds like he's kidding. ]

[carefulapostate]

[The voice snaps his from his thoughts, and he straightens. One of the Dalish, not one he was familiar with. However one that seemed to be aware of intimate knowledge of the inquisition, not to mention the familiarity with which he spoke.

Solas studied him for but a moment, and quickly learned what he needed. He saw the Anchor, clear as day, upon the stranger's hand. He had gathered as much information as he could upon waking, thus was aware of the variations between universes.]

An acquaintance from my youth. Someone I very much hoped would have remained nothing more than a memory from my youth.

[He was able to take this stranger as inquisitor with the same calm grace as he did many things others perceived as odd or unsettling. It helped that once upon a time his people were fully capable of bending time and space to their wills, such as in the creation of the crossroads. This was not remarkably different, just on a far grander scale.]

I'm sorry, I do not believe we have been introduced. I suspect you are some variation of the Inquisitor then?