elnyan | ❪ test drive #4 ❫

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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A nod to confirm, followed by a look indicative of someone who'd just heard the flat earth theory for the first time -- something like that. So he's drinking for the buzz.

He's prepared to suggest a myriad of other wines that would get the job done with finesse, but he's provided with additional instructions and is all the more reluctant to help himself. Still, there's an eventual (if not forced) smirk, appreciative of the heads up.]

Thank you.

[For sharing, for the warning. He'll take his cup with an extended pinky and bring it close to his lips -- but not without sniffing it first. Meant to be a subtle thing.

He'll have himself a sip just after, test his lips together a few times like a dog that's licked something unexpectedly unpleasant, but he doesn't look outright repulsed.

He's a practiced bullshitter. That, and this isn't the first time he's tasted such potent alcohol.]

Aren't you ambitious.

[It's easier than plainly telling him his drink sucks and he should find some way to cope with life without burning a hole through his stomach -- that's none of his business to begin with. He'll help himself to a second, longer taste.]

[When faced with the obnoxious customs of a foreigner - be that a lack of hygiene, or a mere handshake - it's most effective to extend his own. Not like an outstretched palm, but the tip of a blade.

The man takes the blow well.

Takasugi wonders if decorum will demand he drink the whole glass by the end of the exchange. He intends to linger long enough for an answer.]

People have said worse things about me. [A chuckle. Another drink.

Murderer. Terrorist. Traitor. A myriad of gallows-worthy "praise" from his friends and enemies alike. Maybe they wish he'd cope with his problems with more alcohol, rather than his usual methods.]

What about you? What's the worst you've been called? [Idle chatter, nothing more.]

It wasn't meant to be an insult.

[An observation, needless clarification. A curious hum follows that confession; haven't we all? Humans have a knack for being far too honest when the situation doesn't necessarily call for it. Humankind is inherently terrible to start with, nitpicking is all about self-mitigation.]

I've been called a monster, I've been persecuted due to my blood.

[He's oversharing, being slightly too honest with this guy -- this friendless guy who's likely harmless in a convenient, certain respect. Idle chatter accompanied by another sip from his glass.]

[Then it was a compliment - or at least Takasugi will regard it as such.

Even if he knows there's nothing of substance between them, two strangers inflicting themselves on one another for lack of any other way to crawl out of their skin.

Monster piques Takasugi's interest more than persecution, and it's with that word that he settles more comfortably in his seat. Side pressed into the table, he turns towards his companion.]

Are you a monster?

[He raises his glass and drinks, a momentary lapse between the two actions - as if he'd nearly forgotten to partake.]

[A slight chuckle placeholds an actual response. Innocuous as this guy may be, he's defaulting. It's like when somebody makes a self-deprecating joke and instead of laughing, all your friends respond with concern.]

Don't be absurd.

[He'll help himself to a second sip of that awful swill.]

Is that what I look like to you?

[Absurd?

Not at all.

His chest feels warm - and the liquor doesn't taste quite so bad. Intoxication is settling in, but Takasugi sees clearly.

A man who could be a monster.

He simply shrugs.] I've seen better looking monsters.

[Angelic features don't spare a man his crimes.]

Oh?

[Aryan boys should always be something of a concerning sight.]

I wonder what compelled you to take a closer look.

[Takasugi doesn't seem like the guy that'll just approach and sit with cafeteria loners out of the goodness of his heart. Maybe he is, but they've only just met. In the meantime, he'll finish what remains of his drink. He's acclimated but also wants to be rid of it....]

[Soft eyes, pale hair, and a smile that tolerates - on the cusp of something else, but with no chance of what lies behind filtering through.

Takasugi has seen someone wear it better, and that man had been a monster.]

Your face. [Dismissive, he turns back to his liquor. Finishes his drink in kind - though as the last drop passes over his lips he's reaching for and curling his fingers around the bottle.]

Want more? [Tips the bottle, dregs sloshing as his hand sways with the slightest lack of stability.]

[His brows quirk and furrow; it's not as though he's unaccustomed to people focusing on his looks, it's just..never phased him as it ought to. This is a bit different, nevertheless....]

I see.

[A flat delivery. More dynamic is a hand that moves to steady the bottle, lest he tip it too far one way or the other.]

I still have plenty. I wouldn't want to rob you of the whole thing.

[Now would be a terrible time for him to feel generous with that swill...]

[Watching his bluntness be received in (lack of) grace equal to what it had been delivered with, Takasugi's lips curl. Whatever he'd been aiming for in making the man flinch goes forgotten - or maybe there hadn't been a deeper purpose.

Just petulance.

The same sort that guides his hand to drag the bottle across the table towards himself. Abandon it and gather the two glasses, an empty clink as they slide together.]

I'll take half. [Aggression in generosity.]

Haven't you already?

[He's not trying to be a dick; he just hadn't lifted the bottle to test all that remains -- or not. The liquid inside's rather potent anyway, but for one reason or another, he'd expect Takasugi to have a higher tolerance for it.

First impressions and such. This is really throwing a wrench into that speculative badassery.]

[Fair.

Takasugi tilts his head, something of a smile crossing his face.] Then I guess you're forced to settle for the dregs.

[Both glasses can't be filled with what little remains, but he keeps them more or less equal before sliding one gulp's worth in front of Solomon.]

Might as well drink to goodbyes. [Since that's what this is - Takasugi doesn't plan on suffering this man without the aid of liquor.]

[There's a rise and fall of his shoulders. At least he's got something to remember him by, bitter and unappealing as it may be.

Memories aren't formed over nothing.

He'll accept the meager refill. Goodbyes. Goodbye to a former existence only to be thrust into another, similarly unappealing version of the first? He expects this won't be the last time he'll run into the drunk.

Farewells are exponentially different when dealing with the immortal. There's a belated motion of clinking glasses before he'll down his portion. Disgusting as the first, but handled with more grace.]

[A tip of the wrist to humor the cheers given to no longer having to suffer each other, Takasugi finishes his drink as quickly as the rest. It doesn't feel warm slipping down his throat, and by the time it settles in his gut, he's forgotten about it.

But he won't lose Solomon to similar disregard.

In the least, he'll remember how much more palatable alcohol made the man.

He sets his glass down and rises, dragging a hand over the counter.] Next time, you can treat me.

[He'll leave without regard for a response.]

❪ test drive #4 ❫

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takasugi is mature

is this flirting???

y...es..???

very well

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