❪ 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

[willrevile]

Yeah, I'm not sure what I think of the whole thing, yet. But I aim to figure it out.

[ He'd agreed to come, after all. But it's not like he could find it in himself to say no-- kind of in his job description as both an explorer and representative of the Federation to investigate and see if he can help.

A beat, then-- ] Is there something about my first officer..?

[ u ok man ]

[dendarii]

[ HE. might not be okay. Seeing the both of them side by side is really starting to wig him out a bit. Congrats, Jim, you're kind of getting through when all the rest of this sci fi bullshit couldn't. ]

Your first officer. [ He repeats Jim, the words echoing and uncertain. ] What's his name?

[willrevile]

Commander Spock.

[ Why, do you know him? almost comes out of his mouth, but it's a little too flippant for his current mood, so he opts not to. Instead he indicates over his shoulder with one hand, at other pods filled with faces (and uniforms) he's familiar with. ]

It's probably morbid to pace in here around my crew members, but it helps me think.

[ Lingering near Spock is easier than looking at Bones' constantly animated face so unnaturally still, or the slight knit in Nyota's eyebrows that suggests she had been startled before being contained. Sometimes if he stares for too long he finds himself becoming angry, and it's just not productive. ]

[dendarii]

[ It would have gotten a laugh out of Miles, anyway. As it is he stares up at the silent Vulcan in his pod, memorizing his face. An alien face. Like nothing he's ever seen in reality, and not quite like any of the holovids he's seen either. It's unnerving him. ]

Your crew? [ He pauses a moment, taking in the rank and that description of First Officer-- ] Does that make you his captain?

[willrevile]

Yep. [ He extends a hand. ] Captain James T Kirk, USS - Endeavor. I go by Jim, usually.

[ Only the tiniest pause before the ship name, eternally used to 'Enterprise'. But the Enterprise-A, for him, is still undergoing construction at the Yorktown yard, and he is - well, he was - still getting the feel of his interim command.

Probably, he could have just said Enterprise; he called Spock is XO, and technically, the man's on sabbatical. But that's a whole lot of fiddly timeline issues, ones Jim is still mulling over along with everything else. ]

[dendarii]

Jim, then. Well met.

[ He offers his own hand to shake in turn. His grip is delicate, his bones inhumanly light. A slight headcock at that pause - a lie? Or just hesitation before telling the truth? He has no way of knowing, other than a mental note that that was kind of weird.

He'll start with the easier questions, anyway. ]

So, what fleet does your ship belong with? Planetary, mercenary?

[willrevile]

What's your name? [ His own grip is pretty average. Dealing with different species means nobody gets the macho human handshake for fear of-- exactly this, delicate bones, which he notes.

Mercenary, huh. Interesting and a little depressing, how many people jump right to 'so, terrible things are normal for humanoids, right?' The rest of these universes are looking pretty bleak, y'all. ]

Starfleet. It's the defacto military and defense force of the United Federation of Planets, but our primary purposes are exploration, peacekeeping, and humanitarian aid.

[dendarii]

[ Ah. Well. Miles' turn for an awkward pause. This may be a dream, but he sure is rather far flung, isn't he? He hasn't quite decided which name would be better to use here. So he tries on one, just to see how it sits. ]

Admiral Miles Naismith, of the Dendarii Free Mercenary Fleet. [ He tips his head at Kirk's description, though. That sounds impressive. And implausible. ] Peacekeeping and exploration, eh. How is that working out for you?

[willrevile]

[ Is the awkward pause because of rank disparity? Could be. The word 'mercenary' in there doesn't suggest the kind of thing Jim's used to, but-- cultural differences, who effin' knows. ]

Admiral, [ he greets with a nod, a hint of formality. Also: ] Miles?

[ Feel free to correct him, but they seem to be shooting for casual, here. ]

Over a hundred years and over a hundred planets, it's working out just fine. It's not always easy, but I think it's worth it.

[dendarii]

Miles, please. Yes.

[ Though he will greedily encourage anyone willing to call him "Admiral." Even a year after that escapade he's still not used to the title.

He's derailed by that description, anyway. Just. Staring outright. ]

I - what? A hundred planets? How?

[willrevile]

[ His eyebrow reactions really aren't as good as his sleeping shipmates', but he gives it ago. ]

Uh. [ Opting out of the history lesson, since even his practiced answers sound canned-- ] It's a big galaxy. And a lot of people like the idea of working together.

Is that not the case where you're from?

[dendarii]

We've not even a hundred settled worlds in the entire Nexus. Forty, I think. And the largest government has eight under its rule.

[ Fucking Cetaganda. ]

[willrevile]

Sounds like you got to space travel or at least inter-planetary communication quicker than my home planet did, [ Jim says, with an implied shrug. ] We were pretty slow on the uptake about it, owing to having nearly wiped ourselves out with war after war.

We don't really do the 'rule' thing, though.

[ That's for the neighbors. ]

[dendarii]

Ah. Well. War seems to be the way of it for most.

[ For all in his world. Even the Federation equivalent. ]

Is it a democracy?

[ He says the word like it's rather quaint. ]

[willrevile]

The Federation is a federal republic, [ in a tone of voice that says I Know That's Probably Obvious, What With The Name And All, ] and my home planet is a parliamentary republic. Most members of the Federation are similarly run, but as long as a planet or system is unified and its people are living under acceptable standards, they can apply for membership regardless of their government.

I'm guessing you're not so much with the voting thing. [ ~'Democracy'~ ]

[dendarii]

[ Well. Okay, yes, he should have figured that out. But it still boggles his mind a little. Both of the multi-system governments in his universe are empires. ]

No, not at all. The Barrayaran Imperium is - well, an empire. With an Emperor. Although the Counts can vote, so that makes it somewhat parliamentary?

[ Except for the fact where the position is 99% hereditary. ]

[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.

[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?

[willrevile]

[ C'mon Miles let's talk about post-scarcity societies with no currency and total focus human betterment!! If the Federation Kool-Aid can scrape Jim off a dive bar floor and repurpose him it can work for anybody!! ]

It was, ah.. [ Jim's got a better memory than this, but he tends to fumble around anyway; old habits die hard, trying to fly under radars. ] Byerly, I think. We talked about colonization-- he was kind of concerned I would vomit, speaking with him?

I somehow got the impression of flippancy.

[dendarii]

[ Oh. Oh god. Miles doesn't pale, precisely, but he looks immediately exasperated. Preemptively exasperated. Permanently exasperated. To the point where, once again, he forgets he's trying to keep up a front here. (His Naismith fiction wouldn't work out for him long term anyway - there's no reason to keep it when his planet is gone.) ]

Byerly? Byerly Vorrutyer? Are you serious?

[willrevile]

That's how you pronounce it, [ is genuine relief, and kind of-- shutthefuckupJim aren't you a trained diplomat-- but he'd considered going for the full name given to him, but had only read it over text.

So: yes, deadly seriously. (Alas???) ]

I take it you know each other.

[dendarii]

[ And now, finally, he realizes how badly he's shot his own cover in the foot. EH. Whatever, he'll just. Roll with it. Be both! That never caused any problems for him in canon. In any case, he doubts Jim noticed, so he still has time to reconsolidate himself. ]

Yes. Vorrutyer. [ The r's get a nice Russian roll to them. ] Ugh, I wish I didn't. He's my cousin and a town clown. No good drunk pervert.

[willrevile]

[ There's quite a lot to notice or not notice-- maybe he'll put more together later, when he's had sleep. Maybe he won't. For him, the million dollar question (for all you non-socialists) right now is whether or not he mentions that Byerly introduced himself as 'Emperor'.

Hmmmmmnot yet.

Him nods at the pronunciation assist, and huffs a laugh. ] I know a few like him. [ And no one who knows him is here to throw him under the bus so HAH. ] Surely he's better than knowing no one here.

[dendarii]

[ But Miles' face would contort ever so beautifully at that description. Emperor Byerly Vorrutyer. God.

Anyway, focusing on things that Jim actually said - Miles just huffs, no laugh involved. ]

Oh no, he's quite worse than that. I can count on him to gum up anything I may try to plan. He's a disgrace to the Vor in general.

[willrevile]

[ More recon is needed, give him a minute. ]

The Vor? [ Headtilt. But more importantly: ] What do you think you might try to plan, here? Since it's-- you know, not real, and you're drunk.