Xistentia: Mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spoofer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xistentiaooc2017-09-23 06:03 pm
spoofer) wrote in xistentiaooc2017-09-23 06:03 pm
Test Drive Meme #5
Test Drive Meme #5
You wouldn’t wake; i couldn’t sleep for years.
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:
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—
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.
- But like OOCly ask permission ofc.
steve harrington | stranger things
[ This isn't right. This isn't anywhere that he recognizes, and it's the second time the world's gone weird in such a short burst that all he can think of is that he's going absolutely insane.
But the monster, that had been real, and the smell of it burning, that had been real, and the blood on the bat full of nails had been real, same with the solid thunk, the type of strike that Steve owed to his Little League days where he'd try to hit not a home run, but other players on the field. That had been real, too.
No, this isn't right. But the sand feels real, and the wreckage looks real.
The problem is that Steve, stumbling from the ground, nearly tripping over once white shoes, has no longer questioned it. Instead, he laughs. He laughs, and digs his heels into the sand, and almost runs a hand through his hair before he remembers that it's still gelled, and god dammit, something has to be normal here and it may as well be his hair. ]
Woah, woah woah woah-- [ let it be known that Steve isn't completely an asshole, just mostly one: he's spotted someone under something, a weird sheet of metal, and he himself only has a few scuffs that had been from Hawkins and not the landing. ]
Don't move. Hang on.
[ He lifts as best as he can, succeeding in giving the other just enough room to escape from underneath. ]
Y'okay?
ii. network;
un: sharrington
iii. wildcard;
[ Go crazy! ]
network;
u like 2 go facedown ro faceup?
[this is
an excellent misunderstanding.]
network;
[ Pomade, son. Also just going to ignore the last bit because what
no seriously, what. ]
cw sexual vulgarity
wow dont be a bitch, u aint even seen ti yet
6.5 inches jncut
the way the motherland made it
i only top
[he does not only top. but for the purposes of this conversation, one piece of information as only as irrelevant as the next?]
1/1
2/2
Are you seriously telling me about your dick?
no subject
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