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

steve rogers | marvel cinematic universe

[fossils]

a.EXPLORE BASECAMP

[ After the hatching Steve can be found in the mess hall eating rations without complaint — even that godawful coffee only gets a small wince. Hasn't exactly been fine dining on the run, and his stomach can't tell the difference. They don't say hunger's the best spice for nothing.

There's an empty seat on one side, he'll offer it up if asked. Afterward he'll be found cleaning up some of the dishes, or at the Bunks, set up in a quiet corner darning a hole in a hammock.

Later in the evening he'll stop around the Memorial Wall, giving most other folks a wide berth. ]

b.THE RAT WARREN

Pull him back— !

[ Thud thud thud thud, a barrage of tentacles slam into the Leviathan hide Steve's holding up like a shield, positioned in front of a downed scientist. As the tentacles pull back to whip around again he jams his spear into the mutated rat's open maw, violently yanking it back out again to the sound of its screeching death throes. A flailing tentacle just barely grazes his arm, discoloring the fabric of his stealth suit where it touches.

A second rat charges, and he lifts his shield in time to block its body as it hurtles toward him.

Grab the scientist or offer up some cover fire, shrieks and scratching down from the darkness means there's at least one more coming. ]

c.BOOZE

All yours.

[ He offers up the tin cup in his hand to the next person, passed to him before he could refuse. Gives a one shouldered shrug and tips his head. No point in wasting the stuff on him given how everything's in short supply. ]

d.WILD CARD

Don't see anything that works? Feel free to hit him up with another prompt!

WILD CARD

[freightcars]

( He wakes up in an egg. Which is to say, he wakes up in a goddamn egg. His hair, his face - eyes, mouth, nose, all of it - have a film of disgusting membrane sliding off in thick and disgusting strings. He's barely got it out of his eyes when there's suddenly a spear in front of them, and it's zero to squared up for a fight in one second flat. He doesn't act on it immediately, he's still at the assessing stage, but there's a less than subtle whirring from an even less subtle metal arm that suggests he's plenty ready for things to rapidly devolve.

Which, as it turns out, is the only arm ready to fight. His right weighs a ton, uncomfortably heavy beside him, a disconcerting level of weak that he hasn't felt in a long time.

There's a barely-restrained tension in his jaw when he reluctantly raises his hands in the appropriate held at gunpoint position, and that in and of itself feels like a feat of strength. It's at this point he catches sight of a blur in the corner of his eye, a sudden blink-and-you'll-miss-it flash of a familiar face crawling out of another egg that has him trying to crane around for a better look. )

Steve?

( He doesn't get the chance. His captors are so impatient even the word gets jostled on its way out of his mouth, and he's flat out dragged along, heels digging in the entire way, until he meets the lovely lodging accommodations of a holding cell. The dank atmosphere, the bars, the acrid smell, all of it is too familiar for his comfort levels.

His strength starts coming back faster than the people around him, which is reassuring. Doesn't take ten minutes before he's standing up, impatiently hanging around at the bars with his arms threaded through, doing his best to goad the guard into some kind of reaction. )

Hey. Hey. If you're gonna stick me in a cage, the least you could do is turn around. What the hell is this?

( The guard is steadfastly ignoring him. )

got me before I edited canon point, first 30 mins of Endgame!

[fossils]

[ There's a moment, a jolted few seconds where his mind jumps to you're drowning—

He pulls in a sharp breath.

The viscous goo's got him half blind and deaf, a swipe with the back of his hand spreads it across his face on the first pass. Can't hear his name as it's called out, only has enough time to get up on one knee before there's boots in his blurred line of sight. A spear-butt nudges his shoulder as a greeting, a second spear point tips his chin up.

Right— message received.

His jaw tightens as he struggles to his feet, dragged down an apparently well-traveled and goo-slicked path. Uses the short trek to try to recover his bearings, take stock of the faces, weapons, uniforms. Head's in better shape than his body, moving his limbs feels like wading through that goo. Still has the stealth suit on, they'd only just gotten back—

Doesn't remember falling asleep. Doesn't feel like a dream.

(he just left a nightmare)

— what the hell is this?

There, again. Hit like a truck and he forgets that he's supposed to be walking or paying attention to his surroundings. With a surprised grunt he's shoved into the cell, barely catches his balance to avoiding slamming into the person closest to the bars because now he's hearing things, and now he knows this is the start of some kinda nightmare he's had half a dozen times since he watched half the world turn to dust.

But he looks anyway, face pale and eyes wide. ]

Buck?

[ It's muscle memory by now. ]

haha u suck

[freightcars]

( His own fault for focusing so hard at the guard at his 12 he's not paying attention to the entrance at his 6. Hasn't mattered much, the last ten minutes they've just been throwing unfamiliar, confused, goo-covered faces in one after another. Getting answers from somebody with a uniform on seemed more important.

Wasn't really expecting this particular uniform.

He stiffens at the sound of his name. Untangles himself from the bars slowly, like he's reluctant to turn around.

Figures it's a fifty-fifty shot he's finished the circuit and finally actually lost his damn mind. Flash of a face is one thing, he's seen that more than once in passing in a crowd. Hearing him say his name is another, and so help him god, Rogers, if you're not there when he turns around--

Might sound a little too relieved when he exhales out an answer. )

Steve.

( Relieved, but absolutely goddamn baffled, too.

In any case, he's striding on over to grab for Steve's forearm anyway.

Might or might not be checking to make sure he's not seeing things. You know, just on the off-chance. )

a

[restoral]

[ Bucky's finding his way around, doing what he can to figure this place out. It's got some strange surprises. Enough that when he sees Steve sitting in the corner of the bunk area fixing a hammock, it just figures, doesn't it?

He still feels like he's in mourning, carries the Steve-shaped hole with him everywhere in the physical embodiment of a little notebook Steve had left behind, and his breath catches in his throat as his mind tries to catch up.

A deep breath and he saunters up to Steve like this is all perfectly normal and kicks his boot. ]

So are you a hallucination or what, Miss Manners?

[fossils]

[ His gaze flicks up from his work, nearly sticking himself with the point of the needle to boot. Eyes go a bit wide in recognition, disbelief, a wary brand of hope flashing one after the other and mingling across his features when he finally gets his mouth working. ]

Haven't walked through any walls yet.

[ Should be a joke, except he ain't smiling yet. He pulls in a breath, both eyebrows raising. The needlework's been abandoned on the bench he'd been working at. ]

Buck?

[ You wanna tell him you're not a ghost so he can stop looking at you like one? ]

[restoral]

[ It's a little funny. The last time he'd seen Steve, he'd been an old man, but Bucky's not exactly an expert on time travel, let alone what makes a guy claw his way out of a slime egg on another planet. Maybe this isn't even his Steve. Maybe that would be easier. ]

That's what my friends call me.

[ The smile he's flashing down at Steve doesn't quite meet his eyes. They're a little wet and he isn't prepared for how he'll react if he's called on that. ]

Since when do walls stop you? The real question is if the wall's still there after you walk through it.

b

[unclesam]

[ Don't say it, don't say it... ]

On your left.

[ C'mon, how could he not say it.

There's a thunk of metal against rock, a brief, small shower of sparks as the shield - the shield - passes on Steve's left, ricochets off the wall, hits the third rat coming up with a satisfying thunk, and comes back around the other side as Sam gathers the unconscious form into his arms. The tunnels don't have space enough for his wings to unfurl, but he uses the shield's momentum on a catch and a quick boost from his thrusters to propel himself and the scientist further back into the tunnel, clearing them for exit soon as Steve's dealt with his new pal and gets clear. ]

Fugly ain't gonna stay down. Get clear.

[ Definitely didn't throw the shield hard enough to knock the rat out, only daze it - Sam's not about to test vibranium against alien acid, or risk the shield clattering to the ground somewhere down that tunnel he can't get to. ]

[fossils]

[ He's always, always glad to hear it.

The shield flies in a blur of light and sound. A faint, automatic part of his brain is doing silent (unnecessary) calculations in the back of his head, but his main focus remains on the mutant rat trying to take a chunk out of him and whipping tentacles every which way. It's an almost rhythmless dance of movement between them, he manages to keep one step ahead while backing up. ]

Right behind you. [ Calling over his shoulder. Which, he is not exactly right behind him yet. But two seconds later and there's another shriek from his dance partner as the blade of his spear slashes across its eyes.

Won't do much to stop a creature that lives in the dark, but it's enough of a distraction for him to turn and run full speed toward Sam and the scientist.

Just a matter of him climbing out the hole after them. ]

Can you close it up? [ Called out to Sam as he scales the hard packed dirt and rock, lifting himself clear of the entrance.

There's little chance of more survivors farther in— but he can be certain that a small army of these things is about to follow them out. If he's got anything explosive in his pack, now would be a good time. ]

[unclesam]

[ He doesn't technically have explosives, but what he has is a desire to close that hole and prevent the tentacle rats from rushing after them, endangering the wounded their team had managed to pull free.

Quick glance for a headcount, and Sam decides that he won't have a way to fuel and maintain all three drones out here long-term anyway, so he might as well blast the rat warren to smithereens. From the jetpack, one of the small drones detaches and whirrs wildly. ]

Sure thing. Heads down, engaging Junior's self destruct.

[ Sorry, Junior. But he's not about to sacrifice Redwing (again), and feels like blowing up Buckabee is just asking for trouble with the bionic staring machine. Name chosen for comedic purposes, of course.

They've swept the warrens as thoroughly as they could, and now it's time to cover their asses so that the wounded can be tended to. All in a day's work.

As Junior whirs into the hole and is greeted by screeching rodents, Sam crowds next to Steve, making sure both of them are physically shielding the wounded scientist before he folds the wings out and around them - silver and blue, and considerably bigger than the old Falcon models.

There's the sound of rapid beeping, then a small explosion. Debris clatters down around them, but the tunnel collapses into a heap of rubble, and Sam pulls the wings pack into the pack almost instantly, cursing slightly under his breath and switching to cover them with the Leviathan hide shield instead.

He's gonna have to find a safer way to test vibranium against alien acid one of these days. Maybe if he annoys Bucky enough... ]

So I don't know about you, but I'd say that was about an 80% improvement on the usual destruction we leave in our wake, yeah?

Basecamp

[demonicbeauty]

[The Humans are giving Ariadne a wide berth. Understandable, given that her skin is the color of a the underside of a maple leaf and her hair is a brighter blue than candy floss. She's just grateful that all she's getting are wary looks, rather than threads or outright assaults. Her mother always warned her that Humans couldn't be trusted with the sight of an Alastrian, that they would attack without a second thought.

Clearly, her mother was wrong. Thank the gods.

Still, Ariadne is careful not to get too close. For their own comfort as much as hers. But hunger eventually draws her in the direction of the scent of food, her footsteps light, toe-to-heel, as she enters the mess hall.

Once she manages to secure something to eat--not without a few looks--she searches for someplace to sit, and notices a Human with an empty seat beside him. It might be wiser to just take the food and run, but curiosity gets the better of Ariadne and she approaches carefully, her shoulders hunched in an already defensive posture.]

I beg your pardon, sir.

[She gives him a quick curtsy.]

Might I sit there?

[ooc: PB is Natalie Portman, completely up to you if she looks like Jane Foster :) ]

[fossils]

[ His gaze lifts from his plate of beige and wilted green, eyeing her for a half second.

He's met a talking racoon in the past month, and she's not even the first green person he's had a conversation with. So there's not much beyond an initial flash of surprise when he takes in her appearance, the defensiveness of her stance.

Gives a short nod to the place next to him. ]

Seat's not taken.

[ All yours. He shifts his own seat to the left, offering up a few more inches of space at the table. A beat, then as he lifts his mug to his lips: ]

Can't recommend the coffee.

[demonicbeauty]

[She gives him another small curtsy. More like a bounce. Frankly, every movement she makes gives the impression that gravity is just barely holding her down. Like, at any second, she'll spread wings and fly like a little sparrow.

Except she doesn't, of course. Instead, she just neatly sits in the chair, setting down her food.

When he mentions the coffee, she glances up at him. He has a kind face. She's decided that then and there. It helps that he hasn't threatened to cut all of her hair off and sell it, though. It's enough to remind her of the innate kindness in most Human hearts. And she smiles.]

I'm not sure I really need it anyway. I have a feeling I'm going to be wide awake for another few days, trying to figure...

[She makes a vague gesture around the room.]

...all of this out.

c

[angerberg]

Cheers.

[ she takes the cup, eyeing him. lord knows she could use a drink, but not in mourning for the adamant's losses. pointing that out would be crass and she's more interested in making friends — unfortunately — so she swallows down that bitterness with a gulp of paint stripper. ]

Think that will be us before long? [ she nods to the wall. ]

[fossils]

[ Hands now free, he jams them into his pockets. Lets his gaze follows hers to the wall, his mouth forming a tight line. ]

Not exactly planning on it.

[ Which should probably sound facetious coming out of anyone else's mouth, but he says it with a straight face and a pinch at his brow. Fifty thousand lives lost. You can never really, fully wrap your head around numbers like that. Not all at once, even when it's laid out in front of you like this.

A beat, and he tilts his head toward her again, frowning slightly. ]

I think they've got a decent operation running here, all things considered. [ Three years is a long time to keep a basecamp with this many folks running relatively smoothly in a hostile environment with limited resources. ]

b

[armoured]

I'm on it!

[The sound of heavy armoured footsteps crashing on the ground is likely at odds with the seemingly pre-pubescent voice calling out the assurance as Al sprints towards Steve and the downed scientist. He doesn't recognise the tall blond man from the briefing, but now isn't exactly the time for introductions, and so he focuses all of his attention on the scientist.]

Hey-- [His voice is soft and deliberately calm as he bends down and just scoops the man up towards his chest in a bridal style carry.] You're going to be okay, we're going to get you out of here.

[He tilts his head down towards his fellow rescuer.]

Come on, we all need to get out of here together.

[fossils]

[ Got no time to wonder about the discrepancy between the voice and the suit of armor.

The rat lunges again, this time he swings the shield and sends the creature smashing into the side of the tunnel, sending bits of dirt and rocks into the air. He starts backing up ]

You gotta get him up through the exit. [ Called over his shoulder as two more rats come screeching from the tunneling darkness.

Getting down into the hole was the easy part. Hopefully the kid can climb in that armor. If not—

He throws his spear and skewers one rat, pulling out the railgun finally. ]

I'll catch up!

booze —

[residues]

Thanks but no thanks.

[ Her clothes had been significantly gooey after the egg, but they're clean enough now they've been scrubbed of as much residue as possible, and if there's a slight blue tinge to the grey fabric now, then it's just going to make her look that much more fashionable. Does it feel stupid to be wandering around an alien planet in a veil and habit? A little, frankly, she won't lie to herself, but she'd feel stupider in a jumpsuit or whatever else they have to offer around here. Old habits (ha) die hard. ]

I'm actually more of a tequila gal.

[fossils]

[ His eyes go wide in the half second it takes to clock the habit. ]

Sister.

[ Oh (christ).

He recovers quickly enough from that brief flash of nun-induced trauma of his childhood, pulling the tin cup back and holding it only somewhat awkwardly in front of his chest. Looks her over again, and gives a slight shrug, glancing out toward nowhere in particular. ]

Yeah, well... too bad you can't trust an agave not to try to eat you out here.

c

[revvedup]

[ booze doesn't do a whole lot for transgenics unless it's of a particularly strong proof or they drink a lot of it, so for a second, max considers passing the offered cup on as well. after a second's deliberation, she ends up knocking the contents back like a shot instead, making a face as she puts it down, but she doesn't cough or gag on it in spite of the taste. ]

Thanks. [ it's callous and flat, and more than a little tired. ]

[fossils]

No problem.

[ Offers a friendly enough nod, then scans the area. ]

Gonna find somewhere to sit.

[ Not exactly an invitation. She's an adult, he's not gonna try to tell her she ought to get off her feet for a little while looking as tired as she is, but she's free to find a place to sit down with him. ]

c

[astro]

Thanks, but pass.

[ all the same, capa glances up from the whatever paper-like material he's scribbling on and he takes the offered cup, mirroring steve's try at handing it off to the next person down the line. he turns back with a dry, hapless half-smile, his best attempt at friendliness, tapping the end of his writing tool on the page. ]

This place doesn't need any help being incomprehensible.

[ it's confusing enough sober, when he gives up trying to make sense of it (ha), maybe he'll partake. ]

[fossils]

[ The next person ends up downing the shot and wandering off to the sight of someone familiar.

Definitely can call Steve a little curious about what he's got in his hands there, though.

Nods toward the paper and pen. ]

Working on something?

C.

[spalten]

Thanks.

[ he'll take it. an initial swig proves just as awful as he thought it'd be; then again, it's not really enjoyed for the taste than anything else. ]

Not a fan?

[fossils]

[ He tilts his head to the side. ]

Not tonight. [ He raises his eyebrows. ]

I make the right choice?