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xistentiaooc2017-07-22 08:59 pm
spoofer) wrote in xistentiaooc2017-07-22 08:59 pm
TEST DRIVE MEME #3
Test Drive Meme #3
I walk around with all my violent decisions.
Prison World Prequel: Spidermarvel
D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. has learned a new trick to stop characters from defying the end of the multiverse. These are prison worlds, alternative universes, where prisoners are brainwashed into native conflicts so that they will kill each other.
NEW CHARACTERS: BRAINWASH
One minute, you're escaping your dying homeworld. Perhaps through a wormhole, perhaps with some incredible leap of technology, sorcery, or on a magic steed— regardless of the how, the why was clear. Everything you once knew tearing apart at the seams, facing utter destruction at the mercy of an apocalypse no one had predicted.
The next instant, you topple into a street covered in rubble. The Battle of New York (spoilers in the link) rages around you.
Armored humanoid aliens, the Chitauri, run amok in the streets, armed with staffs that blast powerful energy bolts. A hundred times larger, fish-like "Leviathans" are gliding through the air, with fangs as tall as people, damaging skyscrapers with their massive flippers, and ejecting yet more of the Chitauri from their sides. Around you, fires burn and humans are running in every direction in panic, barely taking a second to notice anything outlandish about your appearance. In the distance, there's a blue, glowing portal hundreds of feet in the air.
Maybe you stand and fight. Perhaps you find a citizen or a fellow world-hopper bleeding and hurt and you try to help. Maybe it's the faraway portal you're going for, assuming this is just that damn apocalypse again— but that's when something feels ever so slightly wrong.
This is the sensation of your memories starting to warp, your very identity shaping to fit this world. Your powers starting to flicker, gutter, not operating quite right. Glance down, and for a split-second, it's like your hands are-- pixellated? But blink again, and it's over. Hell, there are more important things to take care of right now...
EXISTING CHARACTER: WRAITH MODE
Technology lights up in the Citadel, the defense systems coming online abruptly, dozens of screens and interfaces crawling with unrecognizable code— and special instructions. Using a visor at the Citadel, brief journeys to the prison world are possible. When you appear in the Battle of New York, the visitors appear like ghosts displaced from space and time. You are now in wraith mode, incorporeal, intangible, and invisible to most of the inhabitants of the Prison World. However, you can be seen and heard by the new prisoners, all the while retaining their personalities and identities. Simulation or transportation? It's hard to tell.
The Temple lights up too, revealing a new chamber filled with dozens of strange stone beds, dimly aglow. But the technology or magic there refuses to reveal anything else.
HEATWAVE IN THE CITY
A week after you arrive in Xistentia, you are still trying to get a grip with life in the city, your new apartment, still trying to understand exactly what's needed of you. The inhabited parts of the urban development have wide boulevards and beautiful facades, well-groomed trees on every street. The further you go from the growing colony, the more overgrown and wild the buildings look, small flocks of birds singing at you from the bridges.
Beyond the streets, the natural environment around you-- wherever you choose to explore— is supposed to be perfect; the weather in Xistentia is designed to be temperate in the city, hotter on the beach, cooler in the forest. But in recent days, the temperature has been climbing. It's a steady thing, but it's felt throughout the whole of Xistentia, and it's not long before it becomes unpleasant, humid and heavy heat that sticks your shirt to your skin.
Your daemon trills, requiring your attention. You've noticed that it now looks different now than it did back in the Prison World, no longer a simple cellphone. When you touch the hologram popup, the message reads:
Threat Assessment: Mild
Phenomenon Type: Weather System Compromised
Predicted Duration: 72 hours
Due to massive energy discharge from D.E.S.T.I.N.Y.'s Prison World program, a heat wave has come. Residents are advised to remain cool indoors or hydrated outside. F.A.T.E.S. requests your assistance offsetting repair power costs by temporarily increasing physical contact, including intimacy. Remember, safezone protocol will prevent combat within the city excepting sparring at gyms.
With expected assistance, the weather system will be corrected in 72 hours.
NETWORK
Chances are pretty good that your daemon is not a phone or a computer or a wax-sealed piece of parchment or a Howler, nothing with a convenient camera or a keyboard; it probably isn't even a pocket sized. Likelier, it stares at you with eyes that contain the lenses-- or powers-- of a camera, and some part of its body projects a holographic keyboard into the air. For those of us who are not accustomed to manipulating intangible light prisms, it's not very intuitive to type on.
But here's your network access. Accessible to all your fellow travelers in XISTENTIA.
Misfires, typos, and blurry video footage are likely. Time to feel like a Luddite!
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
sUPER FUN!
Footnotes
- Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
- But like OOCly ask permission ofc.
clarke griffin | the 100 | eudio crau
[it had been a little over a week since clarke arrived here and she was slowly trying to get used to things. despite being in eudio for two years, this still felt so surreal to her especially after being back home and going through everything she did. between surviving praimfaya and living almost a year on her own, she much rather preferred this because honestly earth kind of sucked right leaving her to only hope that her friends made it and were alive and well in space.
clarke heads to the beach since the weather was starting to increase in temperature and it didn't hurt that the beach was probably one of her favourite places to be even in eudio. it was no different in this place though when her daemon lights up with the message, she frowns slightly looking exasperated at the request for physical intimacy because it felt to much like a set up] Oh, come on— you can't be serious.
network;
Hey, I'm Clarke Griffin. I've never really used anything like this before. It's different than what I'm used but I'll give it a try, I might be a bit rusty at it though since it's been a while for me since I've been able to talk to other people.
If Eudio or Skaikru mean anything to you or sound familiar? Let me know, other maybe we can trade stories about our worlds since we're from different places.
[she knows that the latter is a long shot but she has hope. she has to believe her friends are still out there like bellamy would have wanted her to.
being the lone survivor on earth after the world ended can get lonely. so come on, indulge a girl who hasn't had anyone to talk to in over almost a whole year]
wildcard;
[choose your own adventure!! i'll just go with it!]
network > video!!
Clarke? [ almost disbelief here, but really, if anyone (besides him) is going to miraculously defy death, it's clarke griffin. ]
How'd you get out? We thought the city collapsed in.
video;
Yeah, it's me— Murphy? [she inhales sharply, seemingly as she is struggling to find her words. it's been way too long for her, she had always been hoping that her friends were alive despite the lack of confirmation but overall it's obvious from her expression and tone of voice that she is relieved to hear from him] You have no idea how relieved I am to hear from you.
I can explain— just please tell me that all of you made it up there? [if he is paying close enough attention, he will notice that she looks a lot different with shorter hair and a reddish streak in her hair to go along with it that something her was different]
text; (cw kind of racism and stuff)
except of course it so totally can. why wouldn't it be? half of kavinsky's acqaintance in eudio has been transplanted into this godforsaken post-apocalyptic, but strangely habitable world. quite a few people he likes, plenty of those who he does not like, and numerous individuals who fit both categories. why not the blonde who clocked him once upon a cuddletown?]
ohly shit, cver ur buttholes its griffin
wat up
beat the tar of a random homo 4 makin fun of ur filipno bff anytime recently
;(
[does she
recognize him maybe :);;]
text;
you know, it's like you're asking to get punched again.
no subject
i will lineu p my face 4 ur punches if only u can promise em one thing
that
the pain in ur knucles will make u feel alive
that is all i ask baby girl ;;(
no subject
i'll pass on that. [she will clearly just punch him when he least expect it obviously]
heatwave;
When the message scrawls across the surface of her daemon, Max is perched on a bit of rock by the water in her newly-acquired suit, feet dangling where the sea spray can reach them, but still close enough to hear her neighbor's dismay. It brings a little smile to her lips. Such offense. ]
Is it so terrible a request?
no subject