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Entry tags:
❪ test drive: #1 - the overflow ❫
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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 as you slept. 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 can help. You knew that you'll 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 was all a dream, but somehow, you knew it wasn't — now, will you keep that promise you made to Darma? PROMPT: THE MESS HALL  It's fascinating to the Orbiters how such a dull room can be turned around so completely with people in it. All meals are served by Roman, and while all the food is delicious, some of it is a bit odd. Is that neon green soup? That’s hideous. If you happen to be in the mess hall at a particularly unlucky time, you and the food will suddenly begin to drift. Someone’s got jokes, and they’ve turned off the gravity control. Now it’s just you, your fellow refugees, and the floating sea of food. Wait, did that person just chuck a pie in your direction? 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. Be advised, however, that participating in one of the training modules will start you off favorably with the Natha Orbiters’ in terms of REPUTATION. Once seated and appropriately strapped in, the system will automatically whir to life and the dense foliage and forestry of a section of El Nysa will open up. According to one’s map registry, it clear to see that it’s miles from the outer gates of Olympia, but not as far enough to venture into any other territories. So, in that sense, you’re safe.
PROMPT: STASIS UNIT  You have found the massive section of Thesa known as the Stasis Unit. There’s no special access required to access 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: HANGAR STATION  You find your way to the hangar station. Here rests are a factory worth of docked mobile suits. You recall how the Orbiters had previously spoken of a "space frontier," but only after seeing this you realize how real their words are. Most machinery have marks of wear and tear, assurance that they have indeed been used before, and an assembly of others are going through repairs and maintenance. No one seems to care that you've just strolled in. In fact, there seems to be a couple of the aircraft that beckon you to take a closer look. Maybe you’ll only look on the outside, maybe you'll be greeted by the hand of a mobile suit extending toward you and welcoming you to its cockpit. You go out and explore SPACE!!! Unfortunately, that mobile suit should have warned you it only had 20 minutes of flight time left in its system. Or, perhaps, you’re a particularly ambitious pilot and you’ve strayed past the designated perimeter. Either way, the HUD display is now blinking with errors, cropping up with a single message: DISTRESS SIGNAL. 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! A Training Module thread of AC length on the TDM may be submitted for 1 NATHA ORBITER REPUTATION POINT after acceptance.
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john watson . sherlock
a. joins in mistake, teamwork makes the dream work
You don't happen to be a skilled sweet-talker, do you?
[Was that offensive? Claire can't be bothered to care. At least they jailed them together. At least. Maybe if she keeps finding at leasts to focus on, this wouldn't seem so hopeless.]
truer words never spoken
I don't think so, no.
[ and neither Sherlock nor a British Army patrol are swooping over to yank him out of this one.
but he's not actually on his own, and despondency likely isn't the best way to go about working this out. gear up, John Watson, there are things to do and more than just your head on the chopping block if you cock it up. ]
I could take one down in close combat. If they're not pointing a gun in my face. And if the wind's blowing the right way.
[ and if that puts a gun on the table, well... but that still leaves a great many elements down to chance. ]
Re: truer words never spoken
Lovely. I suppose them jailing us together isn't a compliment, either. Not worried about us rushing them.
[He more or less admitted it, and... well. She motions vaguely at the both of them. A small man and a stick of a woman. No muscle here. Brains? To be seen.]
no subject
with that recognition comes a subtle shift. attention fixing all on her, his attitude tilts and re-balances, leaves him calm, quietly confident, and radiating as much of that as he's got to spare. ] Listen. Have you been here before? This kind of situation?
no subject
Does that mean you have a plan?
no subject
Not exactly. But it does mean we've both been here, done this, got a couple of t-shirts. And I don't know about you but I for one am ready to get the hell out. That's got to be a couple of points in our favour.
no subject
What's your name? I'm Claire.
[She offers her hand for a shake.]
no subject
right. come on then, John. that's done and it's time for a plan. ]
Right. So. Two of us, who knows how many of them— but they've already made their assumptions. And with any luck that'll lead to them only sending a couple of people down here when they come for us. And if they do that, we're in alright stead.
no subject
Fond of literature, your parents? [She supposes it's a better name than Sherlock Holmes. That one would get you some trouble of the playground, surely. But it's not important. Claire crosses her arms over her chest, her usual stance when she's uncomfortable and agitated.
She crosses her arms a lot.]
So, we...? Jump them? Wrestle any weapons out of their grips? I'm a nurse. I'm no fighter.
[Hence training. Time to learn, Claire.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
for smithandwesson
I can take him if you can take out any obvious weapons.
[ provided he's not getting shot at, he anticipates being able to handle himself. ]
Awww here it goes.
Done.
[Really Sanzo could care less about his tone and how it was perceived. All he cared about was getting his newest escort mission out of this simulation without landing both their asses back in a jail cell.And so, it was without hesitation that he turned around and aimed the small gun toward their pursuers. Four loud bangs echoing off the walls of the dungeon as he took down each of the Wyver guards at once.]
You better have a good plan.
[Because that still left one guard rushing straight toward them.
Keeping his word Sanzo charged toward their pursuer, running head-first into danger instead of away, before ducking down and outright grabbing the shaft of the guards mace with his own hands. He was doing his best despite his own small frame to disarm the other, but it was a struggle that in the end left both him and his opponent gridlocked.]
Whatever you plan on doing, do it now!!
🙌🙌🙌 ♥
there's a click, thick and full of purpose, and the guard still caught in a grapple freezes up. his strength is still there, the weight of him, but it's held suspended, the fight gone out of him in instinctual response to...
well. to the gun John's got pressed to the back of his neck, really. ]
Yeah, good call. Nice and still. [ calm, talking to Sanzo now, voice coming from behind the guard's bulk: ] We need to get him into the cell.
✌️✌️✌️👌
Good call.
[With the gun now pressed to the back of their opponents head Sanzo was not worried about letting go. Standing up he popped open the casing to his gun and began to pop in a few fresh bullets from his sleeve.]
You heard the guy. Cage. Now.
[And with that he also aimed his now reloaded gun at their mutual foe. It was easy to lure him into the cell and lock the door at that point.]
So. You never did tell me how you got stuck like this.
three centuries lateur
[ s i g h. the details really aren't as interesting as they could be, but he supposes a retelling won't hurt. not since this guy's gone to the trouble of getting him out.
in the meantime he'll do a quick inspection of the stolen weaponry: discovering it's both familiar in that it's a handheld weapon and entirely unfamiliar in that it's like no model he's ever held or heard of before in his life. ah, the joys of space. ]
Minding my own business in a forest somewhere when I apparently wandered into enemy territory. Or enemies wandered into ours. Same result.
Re: three centuries lateur
[He's just... staring at the moment.]
That you could just probably have turned it off and left if you were stuck in there...
[Obviously Sanzo is the type to force restart a game if he starts sucking at it.]
How long were you trapped there anyway?
[Because this conversation matters more than escaping at the moment. Obviously. Even the caged up guard seems to be watching along, somewhat confused to all this.]
a
But it wasn't trust that landed her here. It was venturing into unfamiliar territory and she would scold herself for the stupidity of it if 1) she felt dwelling on a mistake would do much good and 2) it were real. Although it certainly feels real, this virtual world. Well, simulation or not, it's a training exercise and she knows one must put one's best foot forward no matter what.
Peggy puffs out her cheeks and blows out a slow breath, brows furrowed as she thinks through all this. Outwardly, she's terribly calm about the whole ordeal. She's already scanning the cell for something she can use as a tool or weapon, having none on her person. Then her gaze lands on her cellmate and she asks, as casually as conversation over tea and biscuits: ]
I don't suppose you've got a knife on you.
no subject
... Not on hand, no.
[ but it's not exactly out of place, is it, to ask after a knife. we can't all sit back and wallow in an earned sense of resignation. shifting, John fishes about in his jeans pocket (that excellent moment when you find yourself in an enemy cell in the exact clothes you settled into the training module in and absolutely 0 extra, potentially useful equipment. thanks, training module, for absolutely nothing.) ]
Closest thing I've got to anything useful is— [ and out comes what he's got: wallet, keys, receipt from the last pint of semi-skimmed milk he bought before the world ended. he flips open the wallet, chucks it down on the table that's securely bolted to the ground. holds up the keys, ] —a couple of credit cards and my keys. Suppose we could use them as a shiv?
[ is it a question? is it a suggestion? is he joking? is he not? stay tuned to find out: impenetrable British delivery cannot be cowed by such mild inconveniences as imprisonment and impending torture. ]
no subject
Well, it won't kill a man, but it would certainly blind him with the right aim. [ And she goes about dismantling the keyring so they can each have some. She eyes those credit cards again, having dismissed them earlier. ] How sharp could those get, do you suppose? If we snap them in half?
[ Who is this prim and proper cellmate who eyes household items as weapons with such nonchalance, John Watson? ]
no subject
Sharp enough to leave a nasty scratch if you attack with a corner. [ that's his cue to start manufacturing, and he does. slips defunct cards out of their snug little home and sets to cracking each of them into two parts. ] With any luck they'll be thick enough to only send down a couple. Doubt they'll be expecting a makeshift armoury.
[ there's a certain camaraderie in finding himself here with someone competent that's changed his attitude like the flick of a switch. a spark of enthusiasm and efficiency, like someone's changed the batteries and turned the power on. ]
no subject
You'd be amazed how easy it is to be underestimated. [ As a woman, for her. And as humans, for them. She doesn't know much about their captors or the way the factions on this planet work, but she's learning as she goes and trying to pick it all apart as quickly as possible. ] Although I suppose we'll see how far that'll carry us.
[ She moves towards the door, inspecting the handle, peering around the bars to take a look at the lock. It could be a futuristic sort, but to her surprise, it's more the kind she's familiar with. Either this world isn't as advanced as she was led to believe or this simulation has adjusted to what they, as 20th and 21st century humans, can reasonably handle (with some effort). ]
Far enough, it seems. [ She's eyeing the hallway beyond, now, then makes her way back towards John, voice dropping in volume. ] Have you noticed any pattern to the patrol?
[ All right, this is a little fun. ]
for poolhall_killer
[ it's a strange thing to be discussing so casually, but he finds it's not really that difficult to separate himself from a concept that seems to be rooted in fiction. maybe it'll catch up to him that he's talking about his reality now at some point, but as of yet? he's fine. ]
And God knows how many worlds they've stocked up from...
[ alright, that's a little closer to Too Real. there's a brief glimpse of a frown - then a huff as John realises he's managed to unsettle himself with his own statement. ]
no subject
Have you found anyone from your world, sir?
[If he has, then Venom can cling to a few more shreds of hope that he can find his friends, too.]
no subject
[ manners. okay, manners - ] ... You?
no subject
I've not seen anyone I recognize, yet.
[He's clearly saddened when he says that, but he tries to remain calm.]
It makes me curious if they considered keeping a directory of sorts. So visitors can easily find their friends and loved ones. And we wouldn't have to search for hours on end in the future.