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redmarsshit2019-11-21 09:50 pm
modblob) wrote in redmarsshit2019-11-21 09:50 pm
Entry tags:
test drive meme: november 2019
Redshift: Welcome to the v͖͕̺̲̘̱̜͎o̴̦̣̠̦̘̹͞i̯̖d̛̪̬͈̱̦̝͍̕.
▶ Click here to read what characters will experience when arriving in Anchor.
▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.
▶ All TDM threads can be considered game canon, and current players are welcome to either top-level on the TDM so prospective players can tag them, or use the prompts for logs or network posts on the communities. All threads on the TDM can be used for Activity Check.
a. the truth hurts.
As though everything happening in the past month wasn't enough, there's been a minor explosion in one of the labs. No one hurt, if you don't count the hapless maintenance bot that caused the explosion in the first place.
But there are gases drifting through the laboratories, some of them making their way into the air vents, invisible to the purifiers in the system thanks to the explosion. And those gases are leaking into the air around Anchor, little pockets of danger waiting to be breathed in.
Those who breathe the gasses in might be the unluckiest Anchorites of all.
They're stuck telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth for the next five hours, give or take. Good luck with that!
But there are gases drifting through the laboratories, some of them making their way into the air vents, invisible to the purifiers in the system thanks to the explosion. And those gases are leaking into the air around Anchor, little pockets of danger waiting to be breathed in.
Those who breathe the gasses in might be the unluckiest Anchorites of all.
They're stuck telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth for the next five hours, give or take. Good luck with that!
b. retromedia.
Oblivious to what's going on inside Anchor, the shift rages outside, bringing shadows of things and places from other worlds, those things flickering into existence and out of it again.
The bad news is that the Whole Foods is gone.
The good news is the shift left something behind in its place.
A long, squat building, with cement walls painted over with stucco and punctuated by big windows. A flat roof with slanted sides, painted a deep blue. In bold yellow letters bolted to the roof, a sign:
BLOCKBUSTER
The sliding doors are broken, bouncing open and shut steadily, but the inside is clean and well-stocked with rack upon rack upon row upon row of VHS tapes, all of them neatly packaged in plastic boxes. Some of them have the movie covers on them, but most bear the Blockbuster logo and tiny labels running down the back, declaring the box's contents. There's a giant, somewhat busted up standee of Tim Allen as The Santa Clause, flickering holiday lights strung unevenly from the ceiling, and symbols of various seasonal holidays stuck up along the walls and windows.
Any movie you could possibly want lies within, or at least any movie you could possibly want that was released on Earth during or before 1994. And don’t worry if you can't find a VHS player in Anchor! There are whole shelves of VCRs tucked into one of the closets, apparently part of an aborted plan to rent out VCRs along with movies.
Poor Blockbuster. They were innovators. And now they're lost to the sands of the red shift.
The bad news is that the Whole Foods is gone.
The good news is the shift left something behind in its place.
A long, squat building, with cement walls painted over with stucco and punctuated by big windows. A flat roof with slanted sides, painted a deep blue. In bold yellow letters bolted to the roof, a sign:
The sliding doors are broken, bouncing open and shut steadily, but the inside is clean and well-stocked with rack upon rack upon row upon row of VHS tapes, all of them neatly packaged in plastic boxes. Some of them have the movie covers on them, but most bear the Blockbuster logo and tiny labels running down the back, declaring the box's contents. There's a giant, somewhat busted up standee of Tim Allen as The Santa Clause, flickering holiday lights strung unevenly from the ceiling, and symbols of various seasonal holidays stuck up along the walls and windows.
Any movie you could possibly want lies within, or at least any movie you could possibly want that was released on Earth during or before 1994. And don’t worry if you can't find a VHS player in Anchor! There are whole shelves of VCRs tucked into one of the closets, apparently part of an aborted plan to rent out VCRs along with movies.
Poor Blockbuster. They were innovators. And now they're lost to the sands of the red shift.
c. sweet sweet self-care.
While sickness persists inside Anchor's walls, those in recovery seem to be getting better every day. And while the health bots have been working overtime, some of their processes have gotten a little borked up from all the work they've been doing.
Along with medical care, they're now administering lectures to their captive audiences about the value of diet and exercise, the importance of personal hygiene, and the healing properties of massage. Some of them are forcing massages on people just to prove their point, which, y'know, could be a lot worse. At least they're good at massages?
The spa bots are getting in on the action, nagging the healthy to come for relaxation and decontamination in one gloriously bubbly swoop. They've converted several of their spa pools into sweet-smelling antibacterial baths, so you can make extra-sure you got those visiting-a-sick-friend cooties off!
No, seriously, go with them. Before they drag you there and make you take a bath like an unruly two-year-old.
Believe them, it's worth it. If you complete a circuit of the spa, including the antibacterial baths and the fresh and zesty decontamination shower, you get a shiny sparkly holographic sticker that says "YOU ARE FREE OF DISEASE" in little cheerful bubble-letters. They designed them all by themselves, totally from scratch. Are you proud?
Along with medical care, they're now administering lectures to their captive audiences about the value of diet and exercise, the importance of personal hygiene, and the healing properties of massage. Some of them are forcing massages on people just to prove their point, which, y'know, could be a lot worse. At least they're good at massages?
The spa bots are getting in on the action, nagging the healthy to come for relaxation and decontamination in one gloriously bubbly swoop. They've converted several of their spa pools into sweet-smelling antibacterial baths, so you can make extra-sure you got those visiting-a-sick-friend cooties off!
No, seriously, go with them. Before they drag you there and make you take a bath like an unruly two-year-old.
Believe them, it's worth it. If you complete a circuit of the spa, including the antibacterial baths and the fresh and zesty decontamination shower, you get a shiny sparkly holographic sticker that says "YOU ARE FREE OF DISEASE" in little cheerful bubble-letters. They designed them all by themselves, totally from scratch. Are you proud?
d. the network.
Need to get hold of someone, call for help, ask the city at large a question? Need to ask a friend which 1980s teen movie classic to watch at movie night? Maybe you need to hold your sat phone up to whatever crazy thing you're seeing and send out a recording to double-check if your eyes are deceiving you and what you're looking at is real?
Whatever the reason, the network is going strong, so feel free to include a post to it in your top-levels.
Whatever the reason, the network is going strong, so feel free to include a post to it in your top-levels.
Ratonhnhaké:ton (Connor) // Assassin's Creed
When Angel had first told Ratonhnhaké:ton about the place that turned her into a Minotaur, he'd been infuriated by the idea that there were other places than the City that pulled in and kept people against their will, that influenced and changed people. The more he'd thought about it, after, the more it made sense. If there was one, why not others?
Would he say he had expected to end up somewhere else himself? No.
Now that he finds himself here, however, he finds himself far from surprised about it. If the video is to be believed, this is also quite different from the City. It was built entirely by people like him? Like Angel, and Jacob, and Charles. So whatever brought them here, it has nothing or no one directly under its command.
From the video, however, he'd expected life. A community, a society. Clearly, there was one once. He can tell as soon as he exits the decontamination.
Now it looks deserted.
Which means, if he happens to spot anyone in the area, he will approach immediately, with long, determined strides.
"Excuse me?"
B. Exploring, the truth hurts
All that is left to do is map out his new home. Clearly, for the time-being, he's stuck here. And so he can be found all over, searching for any establishments that can be accessed, any structure that can be climbed, places that seem like good hiding spots, and any landmarks in case one needs to follow or give directions.
Along the way, he's bound to breathe in some of the truth serum gas. This isn't likely to effect him too much, as he is a quiet honest man, but if anyone thinks the way he carefully studies the architecture is strange, maybe something about his profession of "assassin" will slip.
C. Wildcard
[ Just your usual wildcard. ]
The Truth Hurts
But this place is unlike any of those places.
This place is entirely artificial, not simply nature tamed and pruned and leveled, but utterly unreal in every sense he knows.
He wanders with wide eyes, looking at everything and in complete astonishment. How can such a place exist? He had watched the strange screen and its moving picture, its crisp sound better than any gramophone. But it had left him with more questions than answers.
The first human he sees is a giant of a man, dressed in white and a little ahead of him.
"Hello! Hello there! Excuse me, are you a... a colonist here?"
no subject
"So it seems," he says. "But I doubt I have been here much longer than you."
no subject
That means his many questions will probably remain questions, unfortunately. But it is a good thing to see another person, amongst the signs of decay. It reminds him of those once-grand plantation houses slowly rotting. Not yet completely gone but... on that self-same path.
"I was hoping I could find someone who could explain some of... all this to me. I'm afraid I may well be a little behind the times. I've never seen anything so... so large."
no subject
So ... Not the 21st century, most likely.
"Connor," he finally says, and holds out a hand. "I may be able to be of assistance regardless. This is not the first time I have found myself somewhere I did not mean to be."
no subject
But force of habit has him taking the hand and shaking it, and responding, "Albert Mason. This is quite the first for me. I've gotten lost before now but normally if you keep going you find a road or a track or a river and find your way back. I don't believe that trick will work for me here. We seem to be a long way from America."
And he's never really thought of anywhere as a place he shouldn't be, either. It is a difficult concept.
no subject
"A very long way. I would guess we have left Earth entirely."
It seems almost like this was never meant to be inhabited by living beings at all. At least, not at this moment. The City may have been surrounded by a wall that couldn't be crossed, but this? Despite its size, it seems more like a cage. One they have little choice but to accept.
no subject
Albert doesn't understand, nor can he work out how he could have Earth without realising. As far as knows, he'd fallen asleep on the train to Rhodes. He'd jolted awake and come to in the strange room with it's magic lantern show.
"How could such a thing come to be? And you've done it before?"
no subject
At least this sounds like it's accidental, like people weren't meant to be here at all. That it had simply started happening for some inexplicable reason.
Or perhaps that's a lie. Who knows.