TDM 001

[raiamods]

TEST DRIVE MEME 001 ❀

CONTENT WARNINGS: potential character nudity, violence, trypophobia (images) as well as light mentions of gore.

Please note: FOR THE FIRST 24 HOURS AFTER 'HATCHING', CHARACTERS WILL FEEL WEAK AND ANY POWERS THEY HAVE WILL NOT WORK.

Test drive meme threads can be considered game canon for players who are later accepted and wish to keep their CR. The rescue mission prompt will be a TDM-exclusive, but the other prompts that you see here will also appear on our first game log. There will, of course, be more going on that week.

Please reserve questions about consequences for altering or meaningfully investigating the setting for the first log of the game, where we will have a Mod Questions thread at the top of the log. On this test drive meme, please reserve this thread for clarification and setting questions.

On the first day of reserves (May 10th), only players who participate in the TDM will be allowed to reserve. You must link an AC-length thread from the TDM for early access. Starting on the 11th, any prospective player may submit a reserve. Our hope is that this will avoid overwhelming our reserves.

❀ HATCHING

Congrats, you've woken up in an egg. I'm sure this is exactly how you wanted to spend your Saturday, right? There's no time to get curious and check out the other egg sacs. By the time you've fought your way out of the membranous sac, spilled electric blue goop everywhere, wiped it out of your eyes and sundry other orifices to get your bearings, you have a spear (or a gun) leveled at your face, throat, or other vital organs. Even if you might be inclined to fight, you can barely lift your arms to protest being grabbed and dragged off. Before you can even get a word in edgewise, you've been thrown into a holding cell.

Characters will not have a chance to retrieve their items at the time of the first hatching, and may not even know there is anything left in the remaining eggs.

The holding cell stinks of something sour and acidic, like rotted citrus, but you are not alone. Several other detainees sit in similar squalid confusion, dressed strangely and equally gooey. Time to make nice, ask questions... figure out what the hell is going on, and maybe do something about all that slime?

Over the next few days, a few things become clear. Despite the alien greeting, your captors speak a language that you understand, and the unpleasant circumstances are revealed to be a matter of necessity, not choice. Supplies are low, but they ensure that the new arrivals' time imprisoned is as painless as can be — they offer hot communal showers of less than three minutes, some strange starchy meal-replacement, and medical treatment to those in need. You might strike up a conversation with your new best friend in the shower over a low soap dispenser or when you realize you might need to share towels.

The cost of these luxuries comes in the form of touch-and-go interrogation by the security officers keeping tabs on the cells and supervising the shower time.

A few notes:

☆ Your character may get pulled away for interrogation at some point. No torture, no drugs; just questioning.

☆ Locals will be stopping by outside the freestanding holding cells to ogle or ask questions. Are you really going to be mean to that little kid staring at you with wide eyes?

☆ Characters will be let out for bio breaks. No one has to pee in a bucket, that's just inhumane!

☆ Attempts to escape will probably get you tasered. The mods will not facilitate escape-plots/etc on test drive memes. However: if you app and are accepted you are more than welcome to chat with us about the possibility of having escaped or attempted it.

❀ EXPLORE THE BASECAMP

On the heels of a little benign interrogation, a medical inspection, and a stern talking to by Captain Childe, the survivors at Basecamp Leviathan determine one thing: you don't appear to be an active threat.

Released from the detention center after three days, you are given the run-down by the locals — you're on a planet called Ethyraia, and the people around you are survivors of the catastrophic crash of the UCSS Adamant several years prior. You, in fact, showed up on the third anniversary of the crash. Weird coincidence, huh?

You're being allowed to mingle with the others. The first order of the day is having a proper meal at the mess hall — some of the Adamant's survivors will be friendlier than others. They've been stranded here for years, remember? Some of them will be so desperate to talk to someone who has news of other places, and some will be giving you the cold shoulder.

You'll be fed the same as the rest of them. A plastic plate of crumbled protein of unidentifiable origin and gravy over rice with a single wilted stalk of broccoli and a cup of the worst coffee you've ever had. Maybe somebody bumps into you and spills said coffee, maybe you make it all the way to one of the long tables set out for communal eating.

Time to strike up a chat with your neighbor — maybe ask them to pass the salt?

(What do you mean, there's no salt!?)

After a meal — it's hard to say which one you'd call it, since the whole crew is on rotating schedules — you may decide to wander the basecamp. Folks in every department could use a hand. Those willing to help out may get friendlier reception than those who play the tourist. For more info on what else you might find, check out the LOCATIONS page.

During this time, characters will be able to return to the Central Chrysalis where they hatched. While there are no clues as to how they got there, they might find items — their own, or someone else's. Everyone is strapped for supplies, but try not to snatch up anything that isn't yours. The security officers don't look kindly on people chasing one other down the hall, trying to get back their dirty magazines.

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to help out anywhere. Every little bit of assistance you offer to the locals will raise their estimation of you. You could easily help clean dishes after the meal, help fix leaky piping or repair hammocks. You could stop by the aid station and assist with the wounded. You'll be watched closely and some of the survivors will be warier than others, but most will appreciate the opportunity to have a 'break'.

☆ If your character leaves the basecamp and wanders outside the Leviathan, they may begin to notice that what they perhaps took as a giant cave is actually an enormous dragon. Everything they see that seems 'human made' will look varying levels of worn down, patched, repaired and patched again. This is not a place of prosperity and happiness. Many people are recently injured, or have new scars or missing limbs.

☆ PCs will be warned about going beyond the shade of the dragon's wings. For the sake of the test drive mods will not be facilitating plots that deal with characters going further; we ask that players with an interest in exploring this wait until the game is fully open.

❀ RESCUE MISSION

"There's no time to waste," the woman says breathlessly as she grabs your arm. She pulls you to an augmented reality sand table and you will find yourself standing alongside some of the others you may recognize as having 'hatched' with you. There are murmurs by the Adamant's survivors as they pour over data. Maybe you remember Captain Childe from the stern interrogation she gave you a few days ago, but in any case but she's standing at the edge of the sand table looking at the distance scaled between the enormous huddle of HUD badges — the Adamant's survivors — and a tiny pocket of pulsing green some fifteen kilometers away.

"They knew better," Captain Childe says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "They should have been back hours ago."

"Fucking scientists," says a man with a faintly French accent. He is scarred and battle-worn, and looks properly pissed off. He's also sporting several fresh injuries, one of which seems to have warranted the use of a crutch. "They'd lose their heads if they weren't attached. Let them wait out the storm."

"No," the captain says. "They're too close to the Rat Nest. We don't need a repeat of —" she trails off, as if seeing you for the first time. She looks you up and down, and then: "You've been told by now that everyone here has to pitch in. If you know how to fight, be ready in ten minutes. You're our rescue squad." She turns and walks out, and there's an awkward moment where everyone present is looking at you to make a choice.

Ten minutes really isn't a lot of time to get ready to walk into danger. Or maybe you aren't a fighter. Maybe you just don't care. But either way, there are people looking to you. To see how you'll react. To see what you'll do. To see if you belong.

What'll it be, hatchling? Fight or flight? Maybe you ought to start coming up with a plan.

FIELD WORK

There's a cadre of scientists cut off by acid rain. From their last transmission, they were driven into the Rat Warrens — and you've been tasked with rescuing them. Too many members of the Security Team are themselves injured, and none of the remaining ones have experience leading a fire team. Let's hope you do — or at least that you can fake it.

Maybe you've hand-picked your team. Maybe you're just stuck with whoever else was closest. Either way, your companions are some of the people you might recognize as fellow 'hatchlings'. If you know them already — good, you've got a head start on what they might be capable of out in the field, and you can chat about the little things. You know, like the weather. Acid rain, gotta love it.

Either way. You're given few small slabs of surprisingly lightweight alloy that has a sheet of — is that hide from the Leviathan? — stretched across them, to divide up amongst your team. "Helps with the rain," Ensign Porter says, trying to sound cheerful despite the grim set to his jaw. "Just come back in one piece. I kinda feel responsible for you guys, you know?"

Before you know it, you're outfitted for the trip. Weapons (if you didn't have your own) and maybe some medical supplies, handed over with a grimace by Doc Sunya.

So then it's just you, your tiny team and a fifteen kilometer hike. Oh, and the acid rain. Luckily, the shields seem to be keeping it off, but it's hard to hear anything over the impact of the drops. Anyone want to play I never?

Or maybe you think you should make a break for it. This is your first time being outside the Leviathan unsupervised. You've got supplies, and other people with as little to lose here as you do. Maybe you should talk.

THE RAT WARREN

You've made it to the last transmitted location of the scientists. What you find doesn't bode well — one of them seemed to have an arm torn off — at least, you think it's an arm — the way it's been disintegrated by the rain makes it hard to tell.

One thing's certain, though. There are bloodstains leading into the nearby maw of a hole in the ground. There's a putrid odor wafting from it, and the sound of frantic scrabbling.

You have an idea of what might be down there. 'Giant rats with tentacles', Porter had said. Don't let the tentacles grab you, they leave chemical burns that usually result in amputation if they can't be treated immediately. But there's a chance the scientists are still alive, and you need to make your choice.

If you and your small team venture down into the darkness, what happens next is up to you. You'll be encountering hoards of these monsters. The scientists are still alive, but will they stay that way? And more importantly, can you get them back to the Leviathan in one piece?

PCs versus the local fauna, round one, FIGHT!

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to put player characters 'in charge' of the planning/logistics phase. If another PC tags into your thread, you and that player can decide which PC will be 'leading the charge'.

☆ Your character will have: a mini-railgun, a spear (if they don't have their items/weapons from home), a first-aid kit, the acid rain shields, ration bars (that are essentially condensed protein bars — they do not taste good) and one of the smartwatches, which will have a mini holographic HUD displayable on its interface. If your character is the sort to request other things, feel free to assume they received them (within reason — please remember that resource scarcity is the name of the game — feel free to be creative here!).

☆ There are fifteen kilometers to cover. If your character has an ability like superspeed/etc, please keep in mind it will work, but you also have your allies to consider. Normal walking time over this distance, given the difficulty of the environment (steep hills, acid rain, unknown territory, etc) would translate to several hours to an average person.

☆ Feel free to use the NPC scientists however you'd like. If you want your character to find some dead, you can. If you'd prefer they be rescued, that is also acceptable. These are essentially 'your' NPCs that you are using to facilitate the story at this point — the sky is the metaphoric limit!

❀ BOOZE

A week. You've been here for a week.

By now, you might have tried to venture out of Basecamp Leviathan and experienced firsthand the acid rains that the security officers warned you about. Or you might be teaching the kids at the schoolyard how to gamble. In any event, Thorkil seems to take pity on his disoriented new friends and taps his distillery for a little help.

Invitation passes by word of mouth to meet at the memorial wall. Moonshine of questionable quality is passed around in tin cups — hope no one's afraid of germs — as Thorkil explains the great relief it is to be gaining people instead of losing them. This settlement isn't big, and they aren't overburdened with hope or supplies, but there's been a lot of loss in the past three years. Some people might be willing to look at the arrival of these newcomers as a sign that things are turning around.

Bottoms up, hatchlings, and ... Happy Birthday?

A few notes:

☆ Feel free to turn this into an impromptu party. Maybe you're celebrating getting all the scientists back alive! Maybe it's something like a wake to remember them in the sad event of their passing. Either way, many of the engineers and other NPCs may join you in this moonlight drinking session, as well as whatever PCs you tag out to or are tagged by.)

❀ OBLIGATORY NETWORK

Welcome people of all kinds to Basecamp Leviathan! I'd give you a hand moving in except...

I have no hands.
Because I'm an AI.
Get it?
It's a joke.

My name is Cartagena. But anyway, this isn't about me or the Adamant for once. This is about all of you. So if you would kindly fill out the following questionnaire to get to know each other; it would also be very helpful for my systems.

NOTE: Participation is MANDATORY.

That was another joke. It's all voluntary. You people and your free will.

1. What is your name?
2. Where are you from?
3. What's your favorite smell? Please describe it as you would to a person without a nose. Because I do not have a nose.
4. If you could be any animal in any world, what would you be?
5. How old are you?
6. Did you enjoy this questionnaire?

Thank you for your participation! Please enjoy the rest of your stay here at Basecamp Leviathan.

NAVIGATION ❀

Comments

[lifetothefullest]

[That earns a grin from Lance, especially since he can, even more annoyingly, respond with--]

'Both' is not an appropriate answer. How many degrees do you think I have?

[wittingly]

( Wow.

Lance. )

If you get any more smug I'm getting you one of those rats as a pet.

( Excuse him for being a reasonable person and assuming normal people stop at two. )

What's the tally, then? Seven? Eight? I was always terrible at The Price is Right.

[lifetothefullest]

[He laughs at the threat, though it's more from the relief settling in that they're in a position to be having this stupid conversation in the first place than because it's actually funny.]

Just four, though one's the undergrad degree. I have a masters and two doctorates, so technically one thesis and two dissertations.

[Unless you count undergrad theses, but no one should.]

[wittingly]

Oh, just four, huh?

( Of course, how silly of him. He seems way too amused by the answer. He can still feel the subtle tension in his shoulders and his hands, gripping the shield above him just a little too tightly, but this is... good. It's helping him maintain with less of a struggle than he'd probably have in silence. He'd be wrestling with his own mind without this distraction.

Just a few more minutes. Just a little while longer. )

How about you pick two and we'll see if I can wrap my head around either of them?

[lifetothefullest]

[Good, the distraction is working, and although Lance is keeping some attention on their surroundings just in case something dangerous--more than the acid rain, anyway--appears they can deal with it, it seems like they're in the clear. They just have to make it back to the base, and that's how long they have to hold it together, so a distraction in the meantime is good.]

Okay, um, my master's thesis was about possible methods of reducing the development of comorbid conditions in people with PTSD. One of my doctoral dissertations was about the psychological profiles and behavioral patterns of individuals who'd overcome extreme adversity.

[And neither of these subjects are even slightly telling, so don't analyze them too much.]

[wittingly]

That... suddenly explains so much.

( He muses, shaking his head a little.

Granted, Lance has been a gentle probing figure since Ian met him, but knowing now what he'd been primarily focused on... Yeah, it makes sense.

It also makes him a little aware that he probably looks like a fitting candidate for both topics, which is less than stellar. Just gonna super casually refocus on the path ahead. It's rainy, you know? Easy to slip. Wouldn't want that. )

Way more interesting than mine, I'll give you that.

[lifetothefullest]

Does it?

[He asks the question lightly, mostly to be purposefully annoying but also to test the waters just a little. Not that he expects much of an actual answer, but still.

As for the last comment--]

That just depends on the audience; my friends would probably find your topic much more interesting than mine.

[In fact he's pretty sure Brennan would be very pleased by a topic that was 'real science' and not 'near complete guesswork.']

[wittingly]

( He puffs out another breath, not quite a laugh. Close, though. ​)

Well, at least you're consistent with your taste in friends. I'm taking that as a compliment.

( No further commentary on Lance's specialty, just as he expected. Maybe he'd have more to say if he felt as calm internally as he's putting out externally. A few observations on interactions he's seen Lance have, if not with himself then with others.

But yeah, right now his brain only gets as far as 'nope' on the subject. )

[lifetothefullest]

[Oh well. He'll just make a little mental note of the subject, and worry about it later. For now--]

You should, my friends are awesome.

[And he gives another little smile at that, both from thinking about his friends at home and as an indicator that he's including Ian in that statement.]

[wittingly]

( The smile he flits in Lance's direction is appreciative, if small. Any other time he'd probably rattle off something like we totally are, toot his own horn a little. Brag about himself jokingly. His head's not in the game enough for it now — which turns out to be fine, because someone up ahead says oh thank god, fucking finally.

They're coming up on the front gates, and members of security and medical teams quickly and professionally swoop in to start attending to the scientists.

You'd think the relief of being back would make him less antsy, but for whatever reason it just fuels that sense of urgency saying he needs to hurry up with swallowing something or else he's gonna have to actually deal with things. No, thank you.

It might be a little masochistic, really, that he deliberately slows himself down. Hard to say if not looking like he's about to lose his shit is more important than not actually losing his shit. It's sort of an evenly matched eternal Kaiju battle taking place somewhere in his brain in times like this. )

[lifetothefullest]

[He shifts his attention forward when the commotion begins, and gives a long, relieved sigh at the fact that they've made it back. Once they're all inside, and he can pass the shield off to someone in charge of keeping track of them, he takes just a moment to close his eyes and mentally acknowledge that it's over. They did, they got everyone back as safely as possible, and they're okay.

But then it's time to attend to the next problem at hand, namely that he's been mostly allowing the whole deflection thing from Ian even though he knows there's something to be concerned about. So now it's time to figure out how to help, which he starts with by giving an easy suggestion.]

We should go find something to drink.

[Normally he'd follow this up with 'water, not alcohol', but that'd be pushing it and besides, Lance wants to drink too. But before they do that, he also has to make sure--]

But first, were you hurt at all in any of that? It was all kind of chaotic.

[Between the rat fights and the firearms in a tunnel and the cave collapse.]

[wittingly]

( God bless you, Lance Sweets, for not making him come up with some excuse to ditch out and get that drink himself. It's way less stressful if he doesn't have to bullshit, he doesn't have the bandwidth to do it as effortlessly as he usually does at the moment.

Instead, he just sighs out an agreeable and fatigued sound, nodding absently at this Very Good Plan.

Shield shed, coat inspected for burns — there's one minor patch of eaten-through cloth, but when he shrugs it off it doesn't seem to have made it down to the shirt sleeve. )

Nope, I'm-- I'm good.

( He has enough presence of mind and genuine concern to pause and scope Lance up and down for a similar assessment. )

You? How's your ear?

[lifetothefullest]

[He'd been pretty sure Ian had gotten out mostly unscathed, but it's good to have it confirmed, and honestly it's pretty amazing they're both as unhurt as they are. As for the question he gives a small smile and a casual shrug.]

Could be a lot worse. If it isn't back to normal by tomorrow I think I can just heal it the rest of the way.

[It's not blown and that's the important part, because that sucks, and his healing spell should be more than enough to fix this much damage after he has chance to rest.]

I kind of can't believe how well that went.

[He says it both genuinely and to see how Ian reacts, which he imagines will give him an opening to start prying a bit, and he also begins leading the way toward the location of drinks as they talk.]

[wittingly]

Just heal it.

( He echoes in a kind of deadpan disbelief. Just heal it, he says. Another one of those things he'd like to have known before they went in. How the fuck does Lance manage to wake up on an alien planet and immediately become some kind of badass wizard? Meanwhile, all Ian got was this stupid t-shirt.

He ambles along, consciously matching Lance's pace because he's stupidly, absurdly overthinking what normal, unbothered person walking pace is. Hands stuffed in his pockets, pushing down on them a little because it somehow helps him keep steady and he has no idea why.

Jesus Christ, Fowler, can you calm your ass down for just, like, ten more minutes?

It's fine. He's got this. )

Yeah. ( He agrees lightly, a little bob to his head, chin slightly tipped toward the ground in the manner of someone distracted or contemplative. ) It was good, yeah. No casualties except... that guy's arm. Rest in peace, Lefty, I guess.

[lifetothefullest]

[He offers a small grin in response to the echo of his words; it hasn't quite sunk in yet that his magic is back, something he's much more confident with and means more to him than his 'god given' powers in New Amsterdam, but it surely will later. For now he's just glad something went right for him in this multi-universe tour.

But that's not really the point, and he's carefully paying attention to Ian's posture and tone--as much as he can, anyway--to decide how to direct this conversation. The last comment gets a sideways glance, and although Lance's expression is fake-disapproving, he clearly isn't bothered by the morbid comment.]

That's a big thing to have to recover from, but it's good to have a chance to recover at all.

[And that gives an opportunity to lead into--]

It kind of sucks to be back in a place where losing an arm is considered a good outcome.

[He makes the comment genuinely, but it's also purposeful; he's offering understanding, commiseration, not pity. He won't pry too directly into what's bothering Ian, at least not just yet, but if they can broach the topic at surface-level then that's better than nothing.]

[wittingly]

( He's opting to view this conversation as being about Lance. It's way easier to preemptively decide to steer it toward Lance's time in Hadriel, thank you. )

It does. ( A pretty universal sentiment, he's sure. ) But hey, at least you got some sweet ass powers out of it.

( Both being there and coming here. Not exactly the best compensation, but it's better than nothing. )

Really gonna miss those taco trucks, though.

[lifetothefullest]

[He's expecting the deflection and allows it for now, but only for now.]

The powers are pretty cool, yeah. Most of the rest of what I got out of Hadriel sucked, though.

[He'd say all, but he met Nate in Hadriel, and other people who he misses a lot. It wasn't all bad, just the incredibly vast majority of it.]

Me too. I was just getting used to real food again.

[More careful opportunity for commiseration, about a light topic, so maybe Ian'll take it.]

[wittingly]

God, dairy.

( He laments, because Lance is nothing if not good at 5D chess. It's a completely innocuous hook to bait, and just miserable enough to draw a legitimate reaction. )

Fuck, even fake dairy was just...

( He shakes his head. )

We had one cow. ( Back home, he means, but he's not gonna specify that. ) Actually, this guy named Ron had one cow, and it got him... so much action. You have no idea how fast that shit spoiled, it was impossible to get after the power went down. One asshole with a cow, though...

( Fucking.
Ron. )

[lifetothefullest]

[Good, excellent, this is a start. Lance listens as Ian complains, but then the story shifts to this dude with a cow, and Lance can't help but raise his eyebrows in both amusement and disbelief.]

Okay, dairy products are good and all, but now I'm thinking like... How much is milk really worth?

[Is milk worth your dignity if it means getting busy with the cow-man? Probably not. Even in an apocalypse. It's not like they were getting to eat the cow; that might've been worth it.]

[wittingly]

Well, one woman left her husband for him, so...

( A thoughtful beats me downturn to his lips, coupled with a shrug. )

A lot, I guess.

( Don't get him started on how bad they wanted to eat that cow, or what Ron did to keep it alive that first winter. )

I mean, you don't know how much you miss it until you're drinking shitty black coffee and running on dry boxed cereal because that shit lasts forever until you open the bag.

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance scrunches his nose briefly at the mention of someone leaving their husband for the cow guy, but okay, good, this is more talking.]

Yeah, I guess it would make a big difference for things like that, especially those two in specific. Though I do have to say that, really terrible or not, it's kind of amazing to me that coffee is actually easier to get here than in New Amsterdam.

[Just, you know, on a related note. And for that matter it was easier to get good coffee in Hadriel than it is here; what a weird multiverse this is.]

[wittingly]

( He laughs - muted and breathy, but with some modicum of sincerity. )

Seriously. Eighteen months into the end of the world and we still managed to find it on a supply run every once in a while.

( They pass through the wide double doors toward the memorial wall, where the moonshine supply has been temporarily relocated.

Thank god. It's not tequila, but he's not about to be even slightly picky. )

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance prefers moonshine to tequila, though they're both bottom of the barrel as far as he's concerned; still, bad alcohol is better than no alcohol. They get their drinks and find a quiet corner, and Lance soon reconsiders his thought about bad alcohol as he takes a sniff of the stuff and that alone makes him recoil. Oh man. This is gonna be something.]

Some of the bad coffee might actually be really useful right now.

[Not that they're going to get any, with the rationing and all, but still.]

[wittingly]

( Lance sniffs, eyeballs it skeptically, and by that time Ian's already taken a nice solid swig. He doesn't have any toxic masculinity, really, so there's no pretending he's fine with it. There's a displeased hiss, a wrinkle to his nose, a real distaste for the burn.

Moonshine isn't something you drink for pleasure, unless you're shopping around Ole Smoky who somehow makes it taste like the world's burn-iest salted caramel. Ad-hoc stuff like this is best to just shoot in bursts to get it over with. Luke tried his hand at making it off and on when the supply runs got too dry.

It was barely better than this. )

Yeah, or some orange juice or something, Jesus.

( It's purely psychological, the minute sensation of the urgency lessening. He knows it, it hasn't even begun to circulate yet, but who cares as long as it's working? )

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance watches Ian's reaction, and although he's obviously not impressed with the stuff, it does make Lance think it might be more drinkable than it is. So he tips back a swig of his own drink, promptly almost chokes, and only barely manages to swallow it before starting to half-cough, half-laugh.]

God, it's like I'm thirteen again.

[Not that what he drank as a kid was anywhere near this awful, but he was not nearly as used to drinking back then and so everything tasted terrible. But this may actually be the worst alcohol he's ever had.]