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Entry tags:
❪ test drive #6 ❫
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YOUR STORY BEGINS  The Storm came. You remember darkness, but you don't remember much after that. You don't know how long you slept, but the dreams were short. You remember the expanse of stars and galaxies in your direct view. Every world and solar system ever known to man was present in your dreams in careful, pristine detail. You also witnessed the Storm, which has devoured a fair portion of these galaxies. Your Earth and similar planets were assimilated by the Storm. Somehow, you knew it would be the last you'd see of your world. That was when she told you what happened. You knew that you'd be living somewhere new. The details weren't clear, but you knew it was a part of a deal with the entity known as 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 —
CLEAN-UP CREW  While everything has wound down significantly from the strife and destruction of battle, the frozen image of Ysverai, the massive, rotten dragon, and the hole he tore in El Nysa's sky, on several screens of the station is a constant reminder of what took place. New and old refugees alike will notice that prolonged exposure to these images will leave them with a disquiet that gradually builds to actual pain. The discomfort starts from a crawling sensation, insects over skin, and gradually becomes unbearable. They will begin to hear the cries of Ysverai’s pain and suffering, first whispers, then echoes, then wails. Even after Refugees tear their eyes away from this footage, a strange itching sensation remains beneath their skin for several minutes. The dragon isn’t a matter for them to deal with, however. Darma made it clear that the Natha will find a solution. For now, everyone is encouraged to assist in the clean-up of the cities currently frozen in time. However, in interest of the current events and the fact that the refugees still have much to prepare for, they will be offering this help remotely. Several stations are set up where refugees can remote control drones to map out areas and pick up some of the lighter weight debris. Those more well versed technology are encouraged to assist those who may be having trouble getting started with the unfamiliar Natha tech. It seems like it’ll definitely take some getting used to, though. On the bright side, they’re pretty durable drones so if at first you don’t succeed, press the next button? To keep morale high during the clean-up efforts, one of the Natha have set up large hoops around dumpsites and a scoreboard program in the control room, though there's no sign of any directions or rules to be found. That's right, you can play a mechanized version of… some sort of game while you're helping clean up El Nysa. Just make sure you don't get too carried away with competitive spirit! For those looking to pilot something more heavy-duty, there are also cockpits set up for remote control piloting of basic mecha. These are very similar to the VR simulations offered on the station. However, they will not work without a partner. To be able to successfully move one of these, two refugees will be required to connect their minds and pilot in tandem. This may be a daunting task, but with the extensive structural damage to the cities, it's a necessary one. Piloting will require trust and cooperation to make it through. The more connected the pilots are, the more agile and powerful their mecha will be. For those who can’t seem to get on the same page, coordination will be a pipe dream. PROBLEMS WITH THE SHIP  By now it’s likely clear to all refugees, new and old, that for all that they may appear to be infinitely powerful, the Natha Orbiters have been shaken by the recent events on El Nysa. The details of Ysverai’s revival were somehow obscured from their view, and while they’re focusing their efforts on the planet, certain… abnormalities again begin to arise on Thesa Station. The most prevalent of the problems plaguing the Station are the malfunctioning doors. Walking through a door that should lead to a bedroom or kitchen (or, for the truly unfortunate, a toilet) will suddenly take refugees somewhere entirely different and possibly even new. And while this may lead to some accusations of breaking and entering, at least these mishaps can be quickly rectified by an apology and a hasty exit. That is, unless the door refuses to open again — the locks also seem to be malfunctioning. Still, those that find themselves transported somewhere familiar, though off-limits, should consider themselves lucky. Thesa Station is far more vast than most refugees are aware, and some of them might find themselves wandering into a uniquely sticky laboratory. This area appears to serve no purpose other than to house dozens of slimes. These slimes appear not only in a variety of fun colours, but with a variety of not-so-fun abilities ranging from harmless (spitting bubbles) to deadly (spitting fire). Regardless of what abilities a slime possesses however, they are all relentlessly friendly, and characters will need to be careful not to accidentally bringing one out with them once they manage to escape. Unfortunately, that’s not the only situation to escape from. Whether it’s in the mess hall or the bathroom, many will find themselves suddenly rising off the ground. … with everything else in the room, too! It seems like gravity control is also on the fritz. Fortunately, most open spaces aboard the station have a small control panel that can correct these effects. The only problem is getting there. Hopefully at least one of you refugees took that anti-gravity safety course. SUMMER TURNS TO WINTER  The news that the refugees should begin preparations for a return to El Nysa may come as a surprise given that the planet still remains frozen, but it appears there is one community that has somehow withstood Darma’s intervention: an area known as Nadril where time continues to flow freely. Not much information is available regarding this destination, other than the fact that it is isolated, and, more importantly, that it is cold. (Maybe characters should consider the malfunctioning thermostat plunging the temperature to below zero in certain areas on the station as preparation for their upcoming journey!) There are other resources available for those itching to take action, of course. There will be a new supply pack delivered to each room containing gear meant to withstand freezing temperatures — both clothing and storage gear to keep water rations from freezing. Characters will also be alerted to new training programs available in the VR room that are designed to assist with survival in the snowy regions of Nadril. The training programs will consist of a variety of tutorials that will assist in winter survival. Naturally, there will be courses on how to start fires, find food, and build igloos to withstand the frigid temperatures, but that’s not all. Due to the Natha testing their systems, there will occasionally be strange occurrences. For example, refugees may experience a snowball or two pelting them from out of nowhere, or they may suddenly find themselves being cloaked by a snow yeti costume, amongst many other inconveniences. Hopefully that doesn’t detract from the lessons to be learned here, as some of the training programs can include extreme weather survival, including the perils of snow storms or avalanches. SOCIAL-LINKED(in) By some miracle, there are still some quieter parts of the hall. This may be an appropriate time to check out your smartphone. Aside from the expected "Omage" app, there seems to be a new one called Social-Linked. There, you may find a profile waiting to be posted. The app allows for the user to fill it in, but there is also an auto-function! upon pressing it, it will generate a shockingly-honest answer based on the Natha's observation of your history. Roman will be your only friend in this app, with his very own profile: STASIS UNITS  During this time of crisis, the Natha have done their utmost to ensure the safety of those in cryosleep. However, due to the nature of recent events, they will be asking some refugees to do a quick check on some of the pods in the stasis unit. While they are definitely looking for any damage that may have occurred over these past few weeks, they also seem interested in getting a deeper insight into some of the occupants. On each control panel for the pods, there's a new application, asking observers to add notes and commentary — the Natha are looking for a more personal understanding of their sleeping occupants. Refugees are tasked with providing evaluations of the sleepers, based on both their knowledge of those from their homes and on what they can observe just by examining them in their repose. The application asks for how useful you think the pod's occupant would be in a crisis, what their skills are, what their best feature is, if you'd take them with you for a long walk on the beach, and so on… And, of course, all answers must be recorded out loud. Anyone passing by could overhear these evaluations, flattering or less than. FINAL OOC NOTES
As always, feel free to wildcard prompts within Thesa Station!
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. New players may submit an AC-length thread HERE from this TDM for 2 Natha REP. In addition, old players who have not submitted rep for the Hour of Ruin log may also submit a TDM thread for 2 Natha REP. The due date for submission is July 15 11:59 PM EST. For this application cycle, there will be a cap of 60 and no reserves. Applications will be open on July 9 12:01 AM EST and end on July 13 11:59 PM EST. Thank you! |
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[There's a laugh at her own reference as she wastes no time in closing the distance between them. Ah, Carl, her favourite Chevalier. She's missed him, she realizes, the ache in her chest that she'd suppressed all these years suddenly making itself known. She may be beautiful but she's dressed simply, in nothing more than a white dress, her limbs bandaged. Those aren't sleeves that are part of the dress, oh no. No, they hide the aftermath of an unfortunate run in with an undead dragon. Her wounds are on their way to healing, but they're still there.
It's better if he doesn't look too closely.
Thin, dainty, milk white fingers find his trembling face as she leans in to cup it, smile soft and full of adoration. If there's one thing Charles might notice is that there's a certain warmth that's in her expression that was fleeting at best before. Looks like someone's been learning how to emote and explore her less monstrous side recently.]
Good morning, Carl...or should I say evening? I don't know what time it is anymore!
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He lays his one hand over one of hers. It would be rotten of him to dampen her skin with his own shitty tears--he's already rotten. He knows that. But he can't sully her that way. She's all in white because she's the purest livelihood a world could manage. He takes in another gasp, trying to bury his own tears within himself. If he could swallow them, it would be better than swallowing blood. At least for Diva's sake. (Everything for Diva's sake.)
When he can speak again, his throat is raw.] G-- Good morning. Good morning, my queen. How... How have you... [How are you? How have you been? But while his hand slides down the length of hers, touching along her wrist, her forearm, he finds that... it isn't good muslin or silk, like she should be wearing. It's gauzy like bandages. These are bandages. And there's this honey to her, too.] What is wrong with you? [he asks, flabbergasted--and then he colors, ashamed. He's spent too long out of her sight. But he's frightened by the feel of her, now, and his question has a note of panic, maybe tinged with Ophelia's burgeoning madness. He's telling himself, again, not to start crying, and all his words inside himself are cruel. He does deserve cruel words.]
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[The sudden shift from gaping to shock has her blinking at him dumbly for a moment. Oh, right. The bandages. They must be strange to him, to see on someone like her, a creature impervious to everything that may try and harm her, wrapped up like a mummy.
Cruel is the furthest thing from Diva's mind though, as she keeps her palms steady against his cheeks, thumbs smoothing under his eyes as if to brush away tears that haven't fallen yet. For all her eccentricities and instincts, there is a sweet, darling side to her. She had played the part of a sister to a younger brother long ago and right now that fond, far away memory surfaces as she looks at her little favourite. Her darling companion.]
I got a little carried away in a fight with a dragon. Don't fret, I'll be fine.
[What? Sure, it sounds bizarre but it's the truth. Anyway, the state of her arms and legs isn't what's important to her right now. What is important is that he's finally awake and she'll be a little less alone now. Honestly? It's a relief.]
Did you have a nice nap? I was wondering when you'd wake up.
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He's still touching her hand. Now he steadies it so that he can turn his face into it, nuzzling into her palm, careful not to sob. He does whimper just a bit, but he's so careful. He could be very young, looking at him now. Never mind his face in the first place; he could be young for how he seeks her love right now.
That's just as shameful as anything else, of course. He only allows himself a moment of that, while he says,] I had... I had a bad dream, Diva. [A nice nap? No, way more hellacious.] I had an awful, frightful, godawful dream. That-- That I was without you, and... there was so much...
[Just a moment of that. He only allows himself just a moment of that. Then he opens his eyes, looking past Diva's fingers to a sad middle distance, before he gathers himself up to the fullest of his little bit of height. He's still holding her hand in his. He wants to make sure he can kiss the back of her hand--and he does that once he's standing, once he can incline his head in reverence.]
Thank you. You're always the kindest queen. I'm-- No, don't mind it. Don't mind it, Diva. Don't mind me. Rather than that... [He lowers her hand and then releases it, respectfully. He's courtly.] Dragons. Dragons? What have they gotten you into? Who has tended to your beauty in this awful fucking place, my queen?
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The kindest queen, huh? Before she'd never have doubted it, but a lot has happened in a few short months. She's been freed from her cage, so to speak, and with minimal supervision she's met quite the slew of characters and people - some who would agree with the sentiment shared and others who would think he's speaking nonsense. She retracts her hand when it's offered back to her, letting it hang useless by her side. He may always be courtly, but Diva lacks the grace her title bestows upon her at times.]
Mm, well...Solomon is the only one awake besides you...but he's busy a lot. He works.
[A lot, mind you, and frankly it pisses her off. She craves attention, after all, and because of a lack of it she's had to find other sources.]
But I've found others who don't seem to mind tending to me when I ask them to.
[Read: she's got a fucking harem.]
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Paling, he turns his face away from it completely. That means he's not looking at Diva, either. Instead, he's curling into his cloak. You know, now that he's down to one arm, he looks even smaller than before...
He's sullen, his chin tipped low, but he raises his eyes back to her after a tense moment.]
You've been nurtured? You've not been mishandled, I presume? Diva.
[The bat in him is lurking just beneath.]
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Out comes a hand to rest atop his head, to smooth his hair from the crown and back. His little cowlick pops up immediately, which has her smiling despite herself. She's always found it cute, that little piece.]
I've been fed and cared for. Not as grandly as I'm used to, but I've learned to adapt. I've lived in worse conditions before.
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Diva... My queen, you shall have all grandly, all grander than that--all shall be grand, now that I'm here. I won't... I won't let you fall to neglect. Anything within my power... [His power is awfully fucking small, though, isn't it. His brothers showed him that. Vietnam showed him that. His death, himself a blight unto the end, certainly showed him that. Even so...] Diva, I'll do fucking anything. Please know that. I was gone, and it was a really bad dream. But please know that.
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[She'd asked the others where he'd gone and none of them would answer. Eventually, she'd been distracted away from her worries about her favourite devotee...but here he was, awake and ready to serve her.
Honestly? She feels pretty lucky.]
I know you'll do your best. You always do, for me.
[Unlike the others he's never disappointed her. Even Amshel has left her feeling sour on more than one occasion.]
With you here I feel more grand already.
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I didn't think I'd see you, [he says at last.] But you found me. I thought I would always be too far away to find.
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[He's hurt, she can tell as much. He's rubbing at his eyes and she knows what that means. She's done the same after all, her own fare share of crying. She doesn't waste any time then, moving to scoop him up in her arms in a hug, his face pressed against her chest. Everything would be fine and dandy if there wasn't something...missing. The embrace feels wrong for some reason...but why? What's out of place?
She squeezes him a bit tighter, frowning.]
Are you skinnier?
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His eyes flash open, and his breath stops inside his sore throat.] Ah, [he says. His face feels cold. He--unthinkably--skitters back from her a few inches, shrinking into himself. His hand darts up to press against the place where his other arm was cut away. Now he's flushing intensely. It's absolute humiliation.] Diva, no, I... [He says it weakly, and weirdly meek. He can't meet her eyes. He just wants to be held by her again.]
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But it's not there. She hadn't been hallucinating.
The feeling she has is one of dread - rage will come soon after - but for now all she can feel is her stomach drop as she lifts away his cape.]
What happened...oh no...
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It's even worse than crying over the death of an intellectually challenged human being.
So, all in all, he doesn't deserve her concern and he doesn't deserve the onset of her possessiveness. He isn't worth her rage. He isn't worth the drop in her hallowed guts. Charles stands in place, stock still aside from his shallow, shuddering breaths, letting her touch the old stump of his arm. It's so ugly, even through his shirt. He lets her examine him because she is his queen, and he does deserve whatever confirmation of his failure she might give. But it's still the most humiliating thing. He'd rather be stripped and flogged.]
It's nothing. [His voice is thin, tight, and dwindling. His throat can barely accommodate it.] It's the death of me, the start of a dreadful fall, the worst your court has had to offer--it's the sum of what I am. So it's nothing, my queen.
[There's no hope of him not crying, now. His eyes feel sticky.]
Please. I'm happy I could see you. I'm happy to be so blessed. I had forgotten that blessings could be real. But please, I'm begging you as the majesty of my heart, if you could forget about me now, it might be better. If you wish to leave me to my losses, I won't be ugly in your line of sight. I was never supposed to be so ugly for you.
[She should cast him out. It would be best; it'd earn less shame. But he still wants her to hug him again, even if his ugliness is unavoidable, drawn out of his rotten little heart by the fact of his self as a failure. He's hideous because he couldn't do what his role for her demanded. All that talk of making things grander for her--he's just remembered how impossible it is. Now that she knows...]
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How dare someone do this to him. She can't even fathom the insult it is to her, because that's what he is - an extension of her - and then he begins to speak nonsense. She wants him to shut up, it hurts even further to hear him say awful things about himself like that. Perhaps it would've hurt less in the past but after everything that's unfolded, everything that's happened to her...all the rejections and acceptances she's found in the people around her...]
Don't be foolish. [Her words are icy cold as she pulls back, face still before her expression twists into one of rage. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as her fingers ball into fists.] You? Ugly? I made you who you are today! Don't insult yourself!
[She's the one trembling now, pacing as she's wont to do when stressed, like a caged beast yearning for escape.]
As if I could forget my favourite! It wouldn't be better! Who else will stay with me, by my side forever?!
[Her fist lifts and swings into the nearest wall, narrowly missing a pod person. Yikes.]
Who did this to you? I'll eviscerate them.