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

Elliot Alderson | MR ROBOT

[viewsource]

A. Crash Landing

[ The thing about not being totally sane is that when reality is actually coming apart you don't even know if it's real or not. After all, what's real often times feels so abstract and the stuff that's all in your head is utterly and viscerally tactile, you can't escape it no matter what.

So, it's no surprise that Elliot Alderson is questioning his sanity as he lands on a beach. The last thing he remembers is Tyrell and the sound of a gun and then pain. At least he thinks that's the last thing he remembers but he's not in pain and as he looks down at his body he doesn't see any particularly grievous injuries either.

In the midst of relative chaos, Elliot is standing there looking quite lost. The voice in his head doesn't seem to be there -- any of them.

This can't be real, right? ]

B. Network

un: flipperd

C. Wildcard

[ Whatever else fits your fancy. Hit me with your best shot! ]

C-c-c-crash landing!

[rootaccess]

[ This isn’t the world as Darlene remembers seeing it last. She had been nowhere near the ocean, and while the world had definitely been in the midsts of plunging into chaos, it wasn’t this kind of chaos. The chaos that she remembers isn’t nearly as tangible as this is -- there wasn’t agonizing screams, or battered bodies, or any of the burning debris.

She remembers financial chaos. White-collar kind of chaos. Chaos that she had some modicum of control over.

(Then again, did anyone have any real control in this world?)

There’s nothing familiar. No high rise buildings, no hustling and bustling population, this is about as far from New York City as she can get. But then she spots him, the one constant in the whirlwind that has been her entire life. The one person that she’s always counted on, the one person that’s been there despite it all -- and even in times he may not have wanted to be. She's as devoted to him as she is to their cause.

The bottoms of his hoodie sleeves are a little tattered, but there's of course the hood pulled up over his head. She would recognize him anywhere. ]

Elliot!

[ She closes the distance between them as quickly as her legs will carry her, stopping just short of the other and looking him over. ]

It’s really you? Are you okay?

[ Cause very little else looks okay around them. ]

What the hell is going on?

[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. ]

[rootaccess]

[ Darlene might have lost it if Elliot didn't recognize her again. First, she had literally just lost Cisco to a flurry of bullets from the Dark Army -- even if there wasn't concrete proof of it, who else would it have been targeting them like that? -- she wouldn't have been able to keep it together if Elliot had treated her like a complete stranger.

The surge of emotions is a little overwhelming, she wants to throw her arms around him and hug him, but.... well, the Alderson's aren't really huggers.

So, instead, Darlene just keeps staring at him, like if she takes her eyes off of him he'll suddenly be gone. ]

Unless we're having some kind of shared delusion, this is pretty damn real.

[ There's a crash in the distance, followed by more screaming that seems to visibly set Darlene on edge. ]

We need to get the hell away from here.

[viewsource]

[ This is another one of those rare moments that Darlene certainly could have gotten away with a hug despite it's proximity to the last time that they had hugged -- then again unlike with everyone else he's more apt to let her get away with things. ]

That wouldn't be the craziest explanation.

[ Maybe this is the proof of the reality of the situation. ]

But where... [ Where do they go from here, really? This doesn't seem like anywhere that's even remotely familiar and how are they supposed to know where to go to be safe here? ]

[rootaccess]

Yeah, maybe not for you.

[ She pauses a beat, replays her statement in her head and then her expression drops a bit, along with her tone. ]

Sorry. I didn't mean... It's just...

[ Before she has the chance to flounder her explanation more, there's an explosion of flames just a short distance behind them that returns Darlene to the task at hand: getting the hell out away from here. ]

Anywhere away from here? I don't know about you, but I'm not trying to end up dead on a beach in who-the-fuck-knows-where. [ Her head swivels as she looks around: a treeline to one side of them, the ocean to the other. Not very many options. ]

C'mon. Unless you plan on swimming back to the city? Because I don't think that's the Hudson.

[ So, off she goes! Into the great unknown of the wilderness! ]

[viewsource]

[ Elliot doesn't particularly take offense to the implication -- after all what would be the point of being offended by the truth?

There's a simple shrug. ]

Right.

[ Elliot mutters and it doesn't particularly matter if she actually hears him because they both know that unlike with anyone else he'll follow her without much question. He's not particularly keen on the idea of having to get into the water. He's all for getting away from the explosions and so he's following her off into the direction of what looks like a wooded area. ]

[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.

[viewsource]

[ The voice doesn't draw his attention at first, he's a bit lost in his own mind and the confusion in trying to decipher what's real and what's not. What does jolt him is the very real feeling of someone touching him.

Instead of saying a word he jerks his hand away but her words actually penetrate now at least and that's a slight improvement. ]

What's going on? [ He asks but he's moving because if nothing else he's not stupid enough to keep standing there if this is real. Then again, she could be in his head and this could all be in his head and he wouldn't be the wiser and now that he's aware of that it's difficult to know. Regardless, the basic human instinct of self-preservation is in the forefront. ]

[ex_su610]

[ Sombra rolls her eyes high, but she doesn't reach for him again, just jerks her head and takes off. She's light-footed, spry, and has a good sense of her environment, leading them further up the beach to the top of the dunes, away from the sounds of strife. ]

What, nobody gave you the hola-spiel? It's the end of the world, homie. Or it was.

[ She gestures to the city in the distance, unmarred by the smoke and chaos of the beach, then looks back at him — and immediately touches him again, this time to brush away where a smoldering ash has left a little hole in the shoulder of his black hoodie, like a cigarette burn. ]

You'd think they'd learn how to stick the landing.

I haven't slept for like 24 hours, let me know if any of this doesn't make sense. :x

[viewsource]

[ It's more the fact that even if someone were to tell him in great detail everything that's happening he's still not sure he believes any of it but he should at least go along with it for now -- what other choice was there after all, really. ]

This doesn't seem like the end of the world.

[ He always thought that would be more absolute and dark. Then again, Elliot doesn't particularly believe in the end of the world or any consequent after lives that might occur -- which adds another air of confusion to this whole thing. Aside from the inane comment that is more than he usually would say the skepticism isn't quite visible. However, he definitely doesn't have any survival skills in this sort of situation. He barely makes it through the jungle that is New York City sometimes much less something like this that is far, far away from his comfort zone. They get further away from the apparent destruction and maybe he starts to feel clear slowly about what might actually be going on here, not exactly but his thoughts slow a bit at the very least from the breakneck speed they'd been going trying to twist the puzzles of this place to fit into his reality. ]

Who are you?

[ He doesn't care that much but survival instinct makes it the logical thing to at least learn who this person is that's helping him out. ]

[ex_su610]

Not the end of this world. Nobody told you?

[ She still can't get past that. She'd had the agents with their stupid acronyms contact her — sometimes she hates them for not doing so earlier, not giving her more time. It's not like she gave a fuck about anyone else in Overwatch or anything, but maybe they could have done something. As it was she escaped alone, by the skin of her teeth.

And now there's this guy. Who she's apparently going to have to babysit. She sighs, checks her guns, her gadgets, brushes a finger over the chameleon daemon that has blended with the purple of her suit. ]

Call me Sombra.

[ Then she reaches out with her cybernetically enhanced hand and—

Nothing happens. Shit. ¡Verga! She shakes her hand like she's trying to dislodge something, annoyed, but nothing still happens. She'll have to look over the hardware later. ]

One moment, I'm having a sliiiight technical malfunction. No big.

[viewsource]

[ It's... all a bit convoluted at the end of the day and hard to believe anything he might have been told or learned or sees around him -- much less the strange person he's talking to now. He does appraise her a bit more than he had previously, there's some things that seem vaguely like they could be recognizable but not quite. In the end she doesn't seem like something -- or someone -- that he would have thought up in his head. ]

Elliot.

[ Because exchanging names, that's an easy enough social norm that he complies with mostly. ]

What exactly? [ His interest is perked. ]

[ex_su610]

[ Another slightly aggravated noise, and for a moment the air beneath her fingers forms purple hexagonals that have a staticky pixelation to them, the circuitboard pattern that stretches out to her fingers like a tattoo suddenly flaring purple. But still, nothing happens. ]

Okay. Okay.

[ She pinches her nose, ignoring his question for a moment. ]

I thought this world was meant to be data-based, but if it is, I have cero permissions. What a pain.

[ She looks at him suddenly. ]

Did you get a daemon? I haven't tried interfacing with someone else's.

[viewsource]

[ Elliot's sanity is certainly still in question as he continues to observe her. It's indirect, of course, he doesn't stare in the way that normal people do. It's in the corner of his eyes, a constantly twitching gaze that always searches to preemptively avoid direct eye contact. ]

That doesn't have to stop anyone.

[ Much less him but he hasn't really tried. He's still more disoriented than he'd like to admit.

Daemon? Right... it was around somewhere. Flipperd, a small black dog that seemed to make itself known again now that it was being talked about. Elliot's been mostly ignoring it since he's certain that he was hallucinating it for a while there -- after all, he definitely doesn't have Flipper any longer. ]

What do you want to do?

[ What's the point of beating around the bush? There isn't one. ]