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Entry tags:
❪ test drive #4 ❫
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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—
2. Let us now travel forward in time, shall we?  a. The Olympian settlement around you is quiet — until the screaming starts.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... 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. |
no subject
With the mob's many eyes aimed at the center of the altar, to which each prisoner is marched in turn, he is granted a narrow window of opportunity in which to aid this "woman." The mob provides ample cover for his operations, too, with the way they press close to the altar, nearly swallowing the prisoners in their fury before the brands ever touch the prisoners' flesh.]
I bear you no ill will, [he murmurs, so quiet that even the bound man can scarcely hear.
So speaking, he gently tugs Linneus' hands away from his face, to where they cannot be seen so easily. He then draws something from his jacket pocket and shortly sets to sawing at the ropes that bind the young man's hands.]
no subject
Perhaps that was his mistake, but he is learning now.]
Sir--?
[his eyes find the one who took his hands - amidst the baying crowd one kindly face, his eyes catching there before looking down to see what he is doing. His voice already soft, but he lowers it into a whisper-]
Why are you...?
no subject
[Jean Valjean holds his voice quiet and aims his gaze at the altar; he disguises his work with the angle of his body and the sleeve of his coat. His hands are strong and nimble and his movements discreet, and so the thick ropes are no match.
To blend in with the crowd, he cries aloud:]
For the glory of our city!
[Yet his words lack the fiery conviction possessed by the crowd, and his countenance lacks the raw hatred worn by so many of the men and women present. Meanwhile, he has severed the ropes the bind the young man's wrists, and he drops to his knees to cut through those that bind his ankles. The crowd provides cover, but he shall have to work swiftly.]
no subject
Sir...
[about to reply that the man doesn't know what he has done, his words all but dry up in his throat. This is not the time, and more imporantly this isn't about his past, after all.
Startled a little with the shout, and glancing down as the man bends for the ropes around his legs, too - shoeless and in ragged clothes, like many of the others, he realises. Shuffling forward he shall need to be careful not to catch him, his rescuer, but he is sure to give them away, the longer he keeps his eyes down.
Looking up is worse. Looking up is a reminder of how much closer they have lurched, and turning his gaze out into the crowd is not much more reassuring, either.]
no subject
As the young man frets, the old man files. Soon Jean Valjean's work is complete and the sawed ends of the rope fall to the floor. No sooner has this happened than he rises to his feet, tucking the false coin back into his pocket and pulling Linneus into the crowd with him in one fluid motion. With the way that the mob presses against the row of prisoners, it becomes difficult to distinguish where one group ends and the other begins, and he uses this to his advantage, melting into the writhing mass of anger as would one shadow into another.]
Keep your head down, [He murmurs gently.
Already Jean Valjean's coat is off and this he wraps around the young man's shoulders - in his eyes a young woman still. He links arms with him too, to play the part of one guiding a family member through the crowd.]
no subject
His heart is racing, but it will settle. He will be all right.]
Thank you, sir.
[Softly, still, with a furtive glace around lest they be overheard - lest he be recognised as a prisoner, as a defector, or a traitor, or for whatever reason else it was that so many people had been gathered for this bleak procession, this wretched ceremony.]
Might I… may I ask your name?
no subject
The crowd in which they still are enfolded is cacophonous enough to serve as pretext for his not hearing the question, when truthfully he hears it but rather hesitates to answer. He has worn false names as an alibi for fourteen years, yet even these he has learned not to hand out so freely, so as to leave behind less that might be traced back to him.]
Almost there...
[Here at the back of the temple, the mob is thinner; the mouth of the temple which leads back outside is several paces away.]
no subject
[it’s quiet enough now that he can say it again, and more audibly. On the fringes of the crowd, away from the mob and the altar, even breathing is easier – less of a density of people, less the smell of burned flesh in the air. The screams and singeing sound he can still hear, they make him startle a little every time, but he is able to duck his head a moment, the better to get his breath and compose himself]
I didn’t know it was like this…
[He hadn’t been prepared to be confronted with this at all. ]
In my—where I come from, it... happens, yes, but behind closed doors. Not on such a scale…
[and as much as he hates to acknowledge it… it challenges a stereotype that had been forming, despite himself. Because this has never been in his imaginings of Olympia’s history - it was Wyver that was fire and smoke - war, combat, rough and tumble, dragons.
It is not good to be blinded; it is good to know, but it is still a hard lesson.]
no subject
The very same heartbeat surges at once with gratitude that he could escape, that he could help this young man, and with guilt that he would abandon so many to such a fate.
They pass over the threshold of the temple and the night air gasps freshly against their faces.]
The cruelty of men is at times difficult to comprehend. But you must remember not to give into despair.
[He keeps his voice low; they are not yet in the clear, not until the temple has passed from sight.]