Test Drive Meme #5

[spoofer]

Test Drive Meme #5

You wouldn’t wake; i couldn’t sleep for years.

INTRODUCTION ⇄ FAQ ⇄ APPLICATIONS

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.


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 brilliant green forest across the sand. Beyond that, the glint of a faraway city.

THE RAIN

Here comes the rain. Trickling down the rafters and tinkling down the trees, it starts as a drizzle and steadily increases to a downpour. Maybe it catches you by surprise, chasing you indoors or to share the umbrella of a friendly stranger. There's something oddly elaborate about the gutters of Xistentia's city-- it clearly carries the water toward the temple in the East, a storm system that causes the lamps to pulsate without threatening to shut down.


You'll notice too that you're prone to nostalgia which even infiltrate your dreams, memories sad or happy. This is easily a private experience, but you might find yourself wandering the city to get away from old ghosts or feeling invincible in the glow of memories. More oddly, whether or not you're an artist, you might be inspired to draw on the windows with your finger in the condensation.

Personal symbols, detailed illustrations, these inextricably lead back to the nostalgia. Whatever it is, it might pull someone to ask.

NETWORK

By now, the city of Xistentia has a population of over 400 people. Shops line the streets of downtown, and increasingly well-trodden paths will take you into the agricultural zones nearer to the forest or even down to the beach. There are still distinctive animal presences around— careful with that— but the most common critters you'll see are birds crapping on your stuff outside and tiny winged hairless people creeping your food.

One afternoon, you are taken from whatever you’re doing - taking a walk through the city, sunning yourself on the beach, running around in the forest shoring up defenses - by a message, appearing on your Daemon’s network screen. It’s a simple line of text, that reads:

PHOTO SENT

It would appear that your daemon accidentally sent a picture, perhaps one from your photo roll or instagram, or a random shot of you or your surroundings. Wait. Was that a public network post? Wait—

IMAGE CODE TEMPLATE
<center><img src="URL HERE"></center>

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

hells yeah

Footnotes

1. 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.
   
   
2. But like OOCly ask permission ofc.

Comments

text, daemon: calypsod

[leovaldez]

What are you trying to do? Make me feel like I'm starving?

[deathstouch]

[ Aric doesn't shop often. Now that he was in this store and it was pouring outside he's not immediately inclined to go out into it even though mostly rain is comforting to walk in when it's not torrential. He doesn't think too much about it but then some girl came in looking a bit like a drowned rat. ]

It is too bad this store does not have umbrellas.

text, daemon: calypsod

[leovaldez]

How old are you??

[monologue]

[ there are a few cuts and scrapes, a shoulder that's sagging a bit unnaturally (thankfully the fall didn't reopen the sutures), but other than that, he doesn't look too bad. well. alright. there is blood on his coat in general. and on his hands, but he doesn't seem too bothered. As he looks down himself, juno gives a little bit of a shrug, face in half a rictus. virgin screwdriver. now that's something he's absolutely not going to get behind. blood loss or no. ]

I'unno. I think it gives it gives it a... [ what are they calling it these days. ] panache. Or whatever.

[ bloodstains. detective chic. that's how it works. still, he laughs (it hurts a bit, but he's learned how to chuckle around a few achey ribs). ]

But not all of it's mine. [ mostly the hands, he's pretty sure. some cuts on his forehead have already stopped bleeding, thankfully. ]

[viewsource]

[ At least he remembers who Darlene is when she calls out his name. He looks up, and somehow it's surprising to see her. Did that mean this was real? But the questions that followed have a serious of insanity inducing questions going on in his head. How is he supposed to know if he's really him? Darlene, you should know better than to ask questions like this! ]

I'm okay... I think...

[ His brow is furrowed and he looks her over as she comes close. There's no one in the world that he loves except Darlene -- maybe he had had something a little like love with Shayla, a ghost of something else with Angela but Darlene was his family and she'd been there no matter how many times he forgot her. ]

I thought... [ He pauses and then changes direction on his statement. ]

This is real? [ If Darlene is seeing it then it has to be, right? Healthy or not she had always been a stable point in his otherwise unstable and chaotic reality. ]

[smileslie]

[that makes Mandy properly laugh herself] I had a friend who would have said something like that. I think he used blood for lipstick on more than one occasion.

[talking about Jack to someone who isn't Arthur, even in a vague sense is...she doesn't even know. Sometimes the nostalgia is a comfort in these moments, and sometimes it's the worst thing in all the bloody universe]

Don't tell me you're one of those heroic idiots who gets themselves even more fucked up helping other people. [but it's said...warmly. Because those people are better than she and Brian ever were, for all their talk of 'revolution'. She starts digging through her purse with her free arm--it's amazing how adept you become at multitasking when you have to run wardrobe and lights for a band while making sure all of them show up where they're needed]

At any rate, I've got some kleenex, if you want to clean up a bit until you can get checked out proper. [she says, holding out the tissues she found by feel while keeping her eyes on the path]

[pillz]

yeh
feel lke id be sabotaging the objective fi i was making light of my dick u know what im sayin
unless ure into that
no i aint into that

[monologue]

[ juno snorts a little bit at the remark. nothing better than a shade made by your own body for your own body. ]

Yeah, uh, save heroic for someone else. Just a detective getting my hands a little dirty.

[ the word tastes like acid in his mouth as something small is pushed in his direction. he glances and murmurs a little "thanks." the tissues are... they're appreciated. unexpected, but appreciated as they're held out to him. he hesitates a second, glancing at his own cut up fingers and taking a couple (maybe a little roughly, his head and his body don't feel all that in sync right now, like he's still half on mars, half here, like he's dreaming and. wow. maybe he did hit his head or something. juno's been concussed enough to know when he is, but.

no, no. too much thinking, not enough blood wiping and pressing down to staunch any of the remaining free bleeding. ]

Name's Juno Steel.

daemon: moonshined

[pillz]

wat the fuk r u so happy about, dont u know ur life in pixel postapco shit here out

jack frost ❄ rise of the guardians

[breen]

❄ crash and burn

[Jack's unsure of what irritates his eyes more: the salt water or the smoke from the fire once he manages to drag himself up onto the sand. He raises a hand, coughs up another mouthful of sea water then spares a glance around at his surroundings.

Everything is chaos, what with people rushing here and there, attempting to scavenge items from the wreck. Honestly, he's pretty sure none of it is worth risking their lives over, but in his own way of helping, he douses the smaller flames with some of his ice powers, ignoring the throb at the side of his head.

It doesn't occur to him that he might be injured.

The slow forming of a bruise from temple to chin will continue to go unnoticed, unless a passerby happens to mention it.]

❄ rain, rain, go away

[At this point, steady rainfall is something he pays no mind to. That is, until his daemon decides to flutter up next to him, shaking her wings off, dousing him with tiny, bitter-cold drops.]

Thanks a lot, [he mutters sarcastically, adjusting the hold on his staff then reaching to gently rub the sleeve of his hoodie across black-speckled feathers.] Better? [A soft 'hoo' seems to be all she can give him, her head ducking low and hovering near his cheek.]

Don't worry, Avalanche. We'll be out of this mess in no time. ["That's what you think, Jack. For all you know, we could be here forever."] Oh, come on, why do you have to crush my dreams? [If an owl could roll its eyes. "How dramatic of you."] 'Dramatic' just so happens to be my middle name. ["I thought it 'Overland?'"] You promised you'd never bring that up ... ["Oops?" Which Jack responds to by rolling his eyes.

Thankfully, when the dreams descend upon him, dredging up memories of his sister, that day on the ice, which teems into somewhat happier moments. The drag of his finger through the moisture on windows isn't the same as using his abilities to create illustrations that move, but it distracts from things he doesn't want to remember right now.]

❄ network

username foundhiscenter



[ooc: or come at me with something of your own! i'm voice-testing this troublemaker, just so everyone's aware. c:]

[tsunamigel]

Sixteen.
It's an old picture.

[ That wasn't supposed to be sent at all to anyone ever, but. Apparently, his daemon had another plan. ]

[tsunamigel]

[ He used to have a lot to be happy about. Thanks for that reminder, Kavinsky. ]

What happened to your spellcheck function?

rain!!

[memoryguardian]

[ Nostalgia weaved its way through Toothiana in surprisingly personal ways. While she of course thought of the times spent with all the Guardians, she also found herself reflecting on her parents and her life before Guardianship herself. Before she can get too lost walking down memory lane, one of her fairies alerts her to a new arrival she would definitely be interested in. ]

It's about blooming time you showed up, Frost, [ comes a likely familiar condescending Australian-accented voice. It is Bunnymund, but not the one he knows. Not the true Guardian of Hope. For one, he's a lot smaller than usual. For another, the digital sheen to his eyes signify this is a daemon but whose-? ]

Jack! [ the woman chirps, bridging the distance between them in a blur. She's a splash of color and, well, a literal splash as well. There's no concern for personal space (he should be used to this by now, possibly) or how damp her feathers are as she throws her arms around him in a twirling, dizzying hug. ] Oh, Jack, you made it here alright! I'm so relieved. Wait- [ The woman pulls back just a fraction to give him quick once over. ] You are alright, aren't you? Did you go through North's globe too? I know things looked a little bleak there for a moment, so I wasn't sure but- I was hoping you'd gotten through too!

[ She, uh. She hasn't slowed down much since he's seen her last, at least. ]

kurt wagner ❧ xmu

[shadowblends]

❧ bang, bang, they shot me down

[Avoiding fire during a crash like this is next to near impossible, especially when he'd been planning for his teleport to simply take him across a room-- not to an entirely different place where things were burning. He buries his face into the crook of his elbow for protection, iridescent eyes darting this way and that, scanning any and everything in his line of sight.

No shouts of people being dead and the lack of charred bodies are both relieving things, indeed.

Once Kurt has gathered himself into a more presentable state, he sets off to aid others however he can. He himself is unharmed (from what he can tell), so his offering isn't hindered by injuries of any sort.]

Are you all right? [Seems to be his mantra during all of this. Unfortunately, he's not much help when it comes to putting out fire, unless splashing sea water onto it counts? Too bad there aren't any spare buckets lying about.]

❧ let the rain fall down

[What luck for Kurt! He just so happens to be one of the people carrying an umbrella, which seems to have no problem keeping him and the silver-furred ocelot dry. She's draped languidly across his shoulders, purring with content beneath the stroke of his hands, the end of her tail flicking to and fro. Nose to tail-tip, she stretches three feet long; it's a wonder he can keep all of her from sliding off, though he seems to have lots of practice.

Should he be approached, the feline looks up first, wild eyes staring down their new associate.] Sheba's all growl, no bite. I'm still working on a joke about her not having any teeth. [Another full-handed caress over the sleek fur, his head shaking when she rumbles in a halfhearted protest.] Oh, did you need to stand under here, too?

[He raises the spade of his own extra appendage to accommodate the new person, lips quirking, despite the torrent of raindrops that continue to patter across the stretched canvas.] I don't mind sharing if you don't. [That doesn't include stories of memories the downfall brings up, though.]

❧ network

username theincredible



[ooc: hit me with that wildcard if none of these tickle your fancy!]

network;

[hasitsthorns]

woooaahhhh
dude
you are so cool???
i'm loving the hair

cw homophobic language

[pillz]

it gay so i dont use ti

not the happy kind of gay like u
the sad kind
:( c

rain;

[pillz]

Yeah I'm fucking soaked, [kavinsky says, stepping under the overhang. his vampire fangs are closed up nicely in his mouth, his mighty skin is safe under cover of the rainy night, but that hardly means that he is unmoved by annoyance. joseph kavinsky is compulsively annoyed, and he's less cagey these days about pretending nonchalance and indifference.] Thought sunlight was the worst of my fucking problems.

[he pulls on his shirt, peeling the sodden fabric from his belly. by his side, there's a dog, grey and white, a husky with beautiful symmetry to her face and legs, her strong back. and her friendly disposition, as becomes clear when she bends her head across kavinsky's legs, starts to sniff curiously at kurt and his cat.]

God I hate this psychic shit. You getting it too? Dreaming of the time when you were-- [a skeptical eye goes up and down kurt's body.] Green. Gonna assume it's seasonal.

text

[ex_su610]

i'll take the curried shrimp and three egg rolls, gracias

network / username: sud

[ex_su610]

eyyy did you lose your nose?

[ex_su610]

Yo. Tipo.

[ Sombra's tone is as attention-getting as a fingersnap, though really, what part of her doesn't draw attention? The side-shave, the purple ombré in her hair, the neon makeup, the map of electric nodes that seems to write a constellation along her body, even the skintight outfit she's wearing. Sombra doesn't dress to blend in — when she can go invisible, it doesn't seem necessary.

Anyway. Right now she's trying to catch Elliot's attention. ]

You wanna consider maybe moving? C'mon!

[ With that she'll grab his wrist, intending to grab his wrist and drag him out of the way of the next incoming crash. ]

You know you're on fire, right? And I'm not talking about your killcount.

text ; daemon : ciscod

[rootaccess]

I think the general consensus is that it's definitely not chicken, or pork, or whatever they're claiming it is.
Whether or not it's meat at all is still up for debate.

But, no MSG. That's something, isn't it?

text ; daemon : ciscod

[rootaccess]

You're telling me.
I'd probably give my left leg for some good Hunan beef right now.

[rootaccess]

[ Despite no longer being in the rain, the small shop isn't nearly warm enough to dry Darlene very quickly... or at all. She's actually pretty sure that she can feel a slight breeze coming from the vents overhead. ]

Yeah. [ Her answer is clipped, still focused on the things inside of her bag and making sure that they're only slightly damp and not soaked through. ] I thought that the weather predictions here would be as unreliable as where I'm from, but lo' and behold [ She gives a less than enthused wave of her hand to the downpour outside. ] the assholes were right.

text ; daemon : ciscod

[rootaccess]

Trust me on this one, you do not want the curried shrimp.

[monologue]

Still doesn't mean it's not full of Super Mega MSG. SMMSG.


It's always too good to be true. Can't trust take out menus anywhere these days. I'd probably still eat it, though.