xistentiaooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #11

Entry tags:

#mod,
#tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #11

Test Drive Meme #11

To men that mix and meet her from many times and lands

CRASH LANDING

Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.

And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around, reaching toward a brilliant blue sky.

Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.

Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here^[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.

When you get a second to breathe, maybe you'll see it. The rich, green forest across the sand. Beyond that, the glint of a faraway city.

"Chance" Encounters

Your first week in Xistentia^[2], it's obvious you arrived just after a crisis. The shield above the glinting green city is flickering erratically, shifting strange shadows across the ground. You see a few hazardous waste disposal bins here or there, and clear, glassy orbs that seem to match the bin slots.

But spirits seem high. People greet you in the streets, and you bear witness to a profoundly weird, sudden uptick of public wedding proposals that can't possibly end well? Still.

That's when your daemon starts acting funny. Whether by "GPS" routing you with wrong directions to wherever you had originally intended to go, or by physically pulling you off-course, your personal assistant seems bound to drive you right into the path of another passer-by.

You don't know them yet. But whether it's coffee spilled downy our front, an armload of groceries that goes rolling, or the fact that there's a bird visibly about to take a dump on their head&mdahs; you're about to.

NETWORK

Xistentia now has its own 'friending app.' You can use it to make connections with new people! But beware, your daemon may well post without your permission, and things could get pretty embarrassing.

F.A.T.E.S. thought it was a pretty good pun: Synchr. Get it? Like sinker? Hook, line, and?

TEMPLATE Select and copy the code below, paste into your comment. Please also keep in mind that this comment code is different to the entry code should you join the game! (The font is tiny for ease of copying!)

<raw-code><center><div style="background: url('https://i.imgur.com/LMmsp9R.jpg'); margin: auto; width: 300px; height: 500px; padding: 30px; border-radius: 20px;"><div style="font-family: Arial Narrow, sans serif; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 28px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; border-bottom-style: groove; border-bottom-color: #999; border-bottom-width: 1px; line-height: 16px" align="center"><i><b>synchr</b></i></div>

<div style="width: 275px; height: 275px; border: 5px solid #b7d1ae; border-radius: 170px; padding: 0px; margin: 15px auto"><div style="background: url('http://i.imgur.com/i0hSO7K.gif'); background-size: cover; width: 225px; height: 225px; border-radius: 180px; padding: 25px; background-position: center;"><div style="background: url('** YOUR PROFILE PICTURE URL HERE **'); background-size: auto 220px; border-radius: 130px; width: 223px; height: 223px; padding-top: 223px; border: 1px dotted #000"></div></div></div>
<div style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial Narrow, sans serif; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; color: #000;"><b>NAME</b> ▐ AGE</div>

<div style="height: 120px; background: url('https://i.imgur.com/m5GzmXX.png'); overflow-y: auto; margin: 5px auto; border-radius: 6px; padding: 10px">
</raw-code>** INSERT YOUR PROFILE CODE HERE **

<raw-code></div></div>

<div style="clear: both"></div></div>
<br />
<center><table><tr><td style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span> </td><td style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center"><big><big><big><b>YES</big></big></big></b><br />
<textarea><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#2EB82E;">✓</span></textarea></td><td style="text-align: center"><big><big><big><b>NO</big></big></big></b><br />
<textarea><span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span></textarea></td></tr></table></center></center></raw-code>

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

hells yeah

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.
If you decide to join the game, this prompt may be patched over into the upcoming event, which involves a welcome party that comes under attack.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ i. crash landing ]

[ a death, even a death you co-sign is still fucking painful. n'jadaka — erik feels the sand on his face and the heat on his back. the gold jaguar necklace rubs against his skin painfully as he groans, pushing himself onto his knees. sunlight burns his eyes and skin. it hurts. he's not sure which part hurts more. dying, living or feeling the sun again. if he had to guess, it would be a combination of all three. he tugs the necklace off his chest with an audible snap, leaving him with his black slacks and a scarred chest. ]

What the hell kinda afterlife is this?

[ ii. chance encounters ]

[ normalcy smells like —

it smells like cheese sandwiches, fresh coffee stains on tables. wafting cologne and perfume, pine and laundered scents, drifting in and out of the crowd. it smells like any other city or place in the world. erik has been to many like them, though it's been some time since he's had to stay. his work never afforded him much security or longevity to put down roots.

( and he could not go back to oakland, couldn't step back through that door, look at the spot where his father lay dying — )

normalcy tastes like any other place. space, time continuums aside (erik went to MIT, he knows his shit) but it tastes like dust on his tongue. when he bumps into them, he goes blank because he has no mission in his head, no burning goals beating hammers into his skull every minute, every day. he doesn't know what to do with himself and it shows.

but then he masks it with a smirk. ]

You lost?

[ wildcard your adventure ]

[groceries aren't exactly what he's toting around, although a few things might qualify as edible. tucked into one of his arms are aloe plants he's intent on selling or trading for other essentials while another bag hangs rather precariously from the wrist of his free limb, like an accident waiting to happen.

when he brushes past killmonger, the barely there clip to his elbow is enough to make his grip falter. thankfully, the reaction time of his tail has always been on point and catching the flora proves an easy task.

"you lost?" he averts his attention from the rescued pot, iridescent eyes blinking thoughtfully. then, kurt's brow furrows as he spares a quick glance to his surroundings before focusing on is daemon.]

So it would seem. [it's abnormal for his partner to lead him in the wrong direction, but--] The fault is mine, then. I'm sorry. [the ocelot nudges against nightcrawler's legs for reassurance (but also in its own apologetic way), plopping down next to him and focusing on erik now.]

I don't think I've seen you around before.

[ erik takes in kurt's appearance with nothing more than a flicker, well disguised. his smirk hides his fangs. ]

Guess I'm what they call fresh meat.