redmarsshit | test drive meme: december 2019

test drive meme: december 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.

a. santapocalypse.

As the suns set over the unforgiving landscape around Anchor, a bright light flares in the sky, streaking low and fast across the horizon, throwing off flares of green, white, and red.

The impact...is not explosive. Just another flare of light, and then smoke to mark where the object went down. Whatever it was, it didn't come from the redshift. It came from within the planet's atmosphere, such as it is, and landed barely a few steps outside the city.

Characters who choose to investigate will find something strange at the bottom of the pillar of smoke. They'll find a small ship, one that seems to have been cobbled together with pieces of a dozen different ships from a dozen different universes. The cockpit is busted wide open, a red jacket caught on a piece of glass, with no other sign of the pilot. Except for, y'know, the red ringing the broken glass, but we'll just ignore that, shall we?

Scattered all around the vehicle, some of them scorched on the outside but otherwise unharmed, are boxes, boxes, boxes. None are bigger than a shoebox, and all wrapped beautifully with bows on top. Characters who start opening them will find box after box containing nonsense items that might be valuable to someone, but maybe not anyone here. But if they open enough, eventually they'll find something inside that could only be intended for them, it’s so specific, odd, or precious. Any other box they open after that will be empty.

Those that dare enter will find the ship appears larger on the inside. And it also seems to be mostly made of hallways. Hallways that lead nowhere, hallways that, from time to time, are filled with an ominous...jingling.

The source of that jingling is the reindire.

Twisted, monstrous creatures with talons in place of hooves, they will hunt whoever enters the ship through its halls and even back across the wasteland should characters attempt to run. Most of them can be calmed, even tamed. Eaten, if hunting for venison is your character's jam (have at, SSSSs).

Only one cannot be reasoned with, or easily defeated.

The largest of all the reindire, one with fangs and wings and a lust for blood. And a big red nose that shoots lasers. You wouldn't want it following you back to Anchor, would you? Best to defeat it out in the sands, where it can't do any real harm.

b. keep calm & carry on.

As characters have worked on improving the city, they've knocked a few loose screws back into place and rewired a few polarities that needed reversing and now, a new area has opened up. It announces itself with a loud screech as the bulkheads that kept it blocked off open up. The new space is huge, at first seemingly empty.

This space does what the VR rooms can't. It reads minds.

It won't show scenes from home, no, but it will create a facsimile of a place that your character would find most relaxing. And this isn't the simple visual experience of the VR rooms. This is full-sensory immersion. Characters will see, yes, but also be able to touch, smell, even taste what's on the air in their surroundings. If there is fruit, they can pick and eat it - it won't satisfy them, but they'll be able to taste what's there. If there's water, they'll be able to swim it in, and will even feel wet until they climb back onto the shore or out of the pool.

Some lucky souls will even get Anchor's therapy AI chiming in to their scenes, with suggestions like, "Talk to your anxiety the way you would to a friend. Ask it where it comes from, see what it’s doing for you, and redirect it into healthy self-expression." Or, "Have you tried yoga?" or, occasionally, "I think you really really need a nap."

The focus of the room is to help characters relax. Those rolling blackouts that have been happening around Anchor ever since the room opened up? They’re probably nothing to worry about. Right?

c. the network.

Need to get hold of someone, call for help, ask the city at large a question? Need to ask a friend to back you up on the reindire hunt? 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.

Navigation.

Threaded | Flat

Ask any mod questions here!

C; UN: totheark

*The post starts out with a video of a video; sat phone video of a video someone took with a tablet. The tablet's video is shakey and unclear, it was obviously taken while running. The reindire he's running from is visible pretty well, though, at least before the video ends with a door being closed.

After that it switches to text.*

whatis
how s t o p
?

*Help he wants to go back to explore but monsters are scary and he doesn't want to die :(*

A.

The outfits they're given to go outside seem cumbersome, but given the toxic nature of the air outside, there isn't much in the way of an option. He has no desire to test what happens if he steps out without one, thank you very much. Angel's told him enough stories about the horrors of space and the various planets found within it.

As if Earth wasn't bad enough.

Scavenging the odd packages left behind for something useful to bring back is the priority, for now. Though his gaze flickers upwards at the sound of jingling, he's able to get through a fair few of them at a time, only to find nothing of any real value. These all appear sentimental, rather than of any practical value to a group of people trying to survive a hostile environment. Toys, journals, slips of fabric or--

Or a feather.

Charles hesitates for a moment when he sees it, and it can't possibly be the same one, but as he runs a gloved finger along the edge he is certain that it must be. How did it find its way here, of all places?

Suddenly, the jingling can be heard a little closer. Stowing the feather for now he straightens to his fee almost at once. Cautiously, tensely, he makes his way closer the noise, trying to get a glimpse of what remains inside the craft. He can't smell it through the protective layer of suit, but it feels like something stalking the shadows.

Something animal.

B.

What the VR presents is something he hasn't had the chance to see in a long, long time. The City of Sin had given him access to alien worlds, and a futuristic city, but what he missed more than anything was the wide, open spaces he'd left behind.

The view is a spectacular one. The scent of evergreens mingles with the lavender wafting up from the valley where it rests in lush, purple patches. A small, shallow creek burbles along in a steady, calming stream, and the wind catches in the trees in a cool rustle. Distantly, you could hear the neighing of wild horses racing each other for fun along the grassy valley, their hooves thundering along the soft earth.

It's everything he's missed. It isn't real, but it feels really enough to relax here, under the shade of one of those trees, and take it all in with grateful if tired eyes.

Yes, disembodied voice. He could use a nap.

A - Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Jacob has never seen a fucker like this before. The demons back in the City, Angel on her worst days, they come close. But it isn't the same. Fangs and talons and wings? Burning jets of light from it's... nostrils?

That's the strangest opium dream he's ever had for sure.

Jacob hasn't met the others. He doesn't want to. What he does want to do is get out of this labyrinth of corridors and find a weapon. He has some, but they're impossible to access under the protective layers that protect him from all the toxins in the air. He's going to have to improvise, and that means grabbing a box as he dashes past and tearing into it.

B - London's Calling

He doesn't actually know what this thing is, what VR means and so he doesn't expect, when he steps in, to step onto a tiled roof. He's a good forty feet above the ground, and below him is a crossroads of streets around a statue, carts and carriages bustling around. Chimneys smoke into the dusk, a train chugs by in the distance.

He breathes it in, the smog and the stench of too many people and horses and the river. He's not been gone long, but he knows he isn't bad, not really. This is a memory, but it's a beautiful one. One he is happy to crouch down and watch, as the sun sets over the spires and chimney stacks.

I. Rudolf with your nose so bright.

Amongst a pile of lazily grazing Reindire, there is only who is not quite like the others. Not smaller, certainly not, she stands 6'5 at the the head. That's not to say anything for the two huge sets of horns that sit heavy on her head that are an extra four feet of height. Horns that in their way, seem almost like the jaws of a greater beast, as the bigger ones curve away from her head like scimitar blades. Saw like teeth, that protrude from the long elegant horns and extra bones that grow along her spine, jutting over like an extra ribcage. White fur and black mane and tail that offsets that long blue markings that adorn her left side, horn and foreleg. She is a match for their monstrous self.

No what is particularly strange, is that hung between her horns and at the edge of her hooves that go fluttering like dust clouds when she steps, are the illusions of galaxies. Hovering around her like a glittering ornaments. Far off planets that spin in that empty space. Shimmering of purple and white and gold.

Not that she minds, or particularly cares. In this form, her mind is keener but quieter. No, she seems very content, standing about on watch with the other Reindire. At times she lays with them, letting herself be groomed and when she calls to someone, a soft bark of a sound, she happily grooms those closest too her in soft little licks to settle the other Reindire back into the cuddle pile of warm bodies, then lifts that powerful head of horns with a clear expectation.

You have fingers, and she wants scritches. Get with the petting. Big, all black eyes that reflect stars back at her new company. If you get close enough, she will nuzzle against chest and hands for the attention.

Pets, please.

II. Keep calm and carry on.

The place where Angel is most relaxed, beyond all anxiety, is a childhood bedroom. A sparse white room, a child's bed tucked in one side. Toys litter the floor, but the one that makes her linger is a blue stuffed bear, claws and all, that she picks up as she goes to sit on the chair that once upon a time, Jack and her Mother had sat and told her stories, like any other little girl. She had been happy, then. Photos of a girl that can only be Angel, with her parents either side of her, her first day of preschool, the first time she won a prize, endless drawings.

"Hello Captain Bear," she says it quietly to the toy, giving it a squeeze. "Been fighting crime still?"

And with nothing else to do, but sit in this empty childhood room, she buries her face into the toy, curling her knees into her chest and starts to cry.

The room tries its best, realising it has made a mistake, rapidly changing from the white pristine room to something very different. Into a ship's cabin of a old wooden tall ship, scattered with maps, books, swords and old fashioned flint lock weapons.

But her head doesn't lift to see it, even as the AI tried to make it better.

III. Network.

> Hi. :)
> I'm 4N631.
> Has anyone learned the full specs of these systems and what's running in Anchor?
> I might be able to help, once I learn it.

> Oh, and where can I get a steak? Rare steak, especially.

A. Somebody think of the pilot

No, we will absolutely not ignore the red ringing the broken glass. While Ratonhnhaké:ton spares the boxes a glance, his immediate attention goes to the cockpit. If he has to climb to get closer, that is what he will do, but one way or another he makes his way to the glass to take a close look at the remains.

Not that it tells him much. It's quite clear what happened, and given that there seems to be no sign of the actual body, he imagines that whoever it was isn't alive anymore.

"I wonder there the body might have landed."

It's spoken quietly, mostly to himself, as he turns his head up in the direction it ought to have flown.

B. I don't have anything witty for the better-than-VR experience

The floor beneath his feet shifts into wood. He finds himself standing on a branch, needing to unexpectedly find his balance. Luckily, the trunk of the tree is right there for him to brace on.

Once he's steady, he can take in the surroundings properly. The leaves block out some of the view, but he can make out a river, the cliffs reaching towards the sky, tall enough one might feel dizzy if they were to stand at the bottom looking up. Beside the river rests a village. One he hasn't seen in so long, and it makes his chest ache with longing.

But he can hear the wind rustling the leaves, feel it against his skin, and the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance. And when he closes his eyes and breathes in, the air is clean, with a hint of the smell of autumn. And after a few second's silence, it's broken by bird song.

How he's missed the frontier.

C. Wildcard

[ Just a nice ol' wildcard. ]

a. this ain't your grandma's Life Day
He comes out to the wreckage seeking anything useful. Information. Supplies. Salvageable parts. What Ren doesn't expect is all of these boxes littering the crash site, prettily wrapped, if scorched and battered from the impact. Was the pilot a courier of some kind?

(Or were they a smuggler?)

The gifts are curious things. Something attached to them, some sentiment, some sense of belonging, radiates out into the Force. And there's one box in particular that calls to him. It's familiar, in a way that cuts, that finds that weak, fractured part of his heart and drives itself in.

It's a gift meant for Ben Solo.

Jaw clenching, he wraps his fingers around his lightsaber and stalks into the ship, his stride purposeful. A man on a mission-- or maybe he's just an overgrown boy spoiling for a fight.

SO COME FIND KYLO REN HUNTING REINDIRE.

b. 404 not found
The relaxation room doesn't really know what to do with him. Any potential scenario, any calming place from memory, comes so loaded with baggage that it's liable to make him grief-stricken, guilt-ridden, or enraged and smashing things.

(Maybe that should be Kylo Ren's happy place: a room on the Finalizer with endless consoles to smash... ALAS. Doesn't really fit the theme here.)

So, anyone who happens to walk in on Kylo in the room will just find it... well. Looking like its default state, while the helpful AI pleads: "Please just take a nap."

c. ¿dónde está santa claus? (network; un: ren)
Has anyone located the body of the pilot?
The one with the red jacket, and the gifts.

[ Look, I just want people to troll Kylo Ren about Santa Claus, is that too much to ask. ]

b. God made the country, and man made the town.
Harry reasoned that it wasn't really all that strange. He'd grown used to life with the Dursleys, and then he was uprooted into the wizarding world; it would only make sense that once he felt like he had his footing in Irkalla, he'd be dropped into another madhouse.

And given the view spread out before him in the VR room, it surely must be some manner of Bedlam. Legs dangling over the edge, he's perched on a high, slate-roofed building watching the hustle and bustle of a fake city below. People coming and going from a market, the fish-salt stink of the sea, and the general rank odour of a busy town in a (quasi)medieval era.

When the door opens, he calls out without bothering to turn: "Watch the first step, it's a doozy."

00. Anchored
It's not what they were promised, but Foggy's more or less given up on expecting that. he had loaded up his belongings and waited with Anne and then there was... here.

And all he can do is hope that Anne got home safely, that Matt and Elektra are safely together in whatever crazy place they picked for themselves and he will work about getting settled in. Again.

At least there's electricity here. Hopefully running, hot water. All the little things the island didn't have.

The discovery of the kitchen is like nirvana. Foggy just about cries.

b. keep calm & carry on

The VR experience gives him the thing he's missed so terribly all those months away from NYC and his family. It can't give him his family, but this at least is almost like being home, hearing voices from another room, the smell of the smoked and cured meats around him, the warm, smooth wood of the window sills he sat on as a child with Theo.

Outside, in the pretend outside, streets partly rebuilt and old as his memories are filled with people and traffic and it's at least something like a refuge from the world.

B: Not Keeping Calm, Thank You

The VR room is attempting to show somewhere relaxing; a warm, sunny piece of city parkland, skies blue, trees green and lush with foliage, pigeons and squirrels and park benches and all.

The problem is that Marian knows none of it is real, and it's incredibly grating to have this transparent AI in her business.

"Have you thought about jogging? Mild exercise in fresh air is an excellent--" the AI tries but Marian is having none of it, scowling at thin air.

"What I need is for you to let me out of this simulation instantly. That is what will make me feel better, rather than being trapped here with your insipid commentary."

"Recalibrating," the AI replies, scenery altering to a tropical resort's beach, palm trees, sand... and very very warm. Marian's starting to sweat in her turtleneck, and is just about to start cussing this thing out.

C: Network

Are there any other scientific researchers or academics present? In particular, ones with specialities relevant to our current predicament?

Threaded | Flat

QUESTIONS.

Brian "Hoody" Thomas | Marble Hornets | Snowblind & We the Lost CRAU

Charles Smith | Red Dead Redemption | City of Sin CRAU