test drive meme: february 2020

[modblob]

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. a more colloquial situation with a few robo-friends.

Something odd has happened overnight. A plant stalk, festooned with flowers and crowned with an enormous bud the size of a minivan, has grown up out of the center of the park and almost to the top of the dome. And down below, at its base and in the field around it, there's a whole lot of commotion.

The robots are at it again, and by at it again, we mean they're gathering in the park and adorning tables with... robo-treats. There are cups of lubricant, motor oil, a "massage" table for repairs. The terrible robo band has gathered again, and they seem to have been practicing, because they're rolling out some good tunes, some for waltzes and some fast-paced jams that are more along the "throw yourself around and pretend it's a dance" line.

The robots, in fact, are dancing. Sometimes in pairs, sometimes in trios, but they're trading partners and showing off their moves in what appears to be a bot-run robo-celebration.

Of course, Anchorites aren't excluded. Though it might be a Bring Your Own Food kind of event, the bots have left a table out for people to do just that. There's even water and a ton of orange juice available courtesy of the bar bot, who seems to be enjoying a day off at the repair table. Maybe it'll be good for him.

And if you seem to want to dance but can't find yourself a partner, a bot is likely to volunteer with a sympathetic, "Ah, meatsack, you cannot find a corresponding fleshbag. Allow me to partner with you."

b. weeds & flowers.

There are also cushions scattered around in loose circles, each one centered around a hookah. An inhale from some will make dancing look fun. From another, and affectionate kisses might be in your future. Some are packed with herbs to instill calm. Take a deep enough inhale and you might find yourself settling in for a nap on those cushions, looking up at the flower-covered stalk of the plant with its huge leaves. It's shedding petals gently and almost constantly, turning the clearing around it into a delicate flurry of shades from deepest blue to bright orange.

There are flowers almost everywhere, in fact, in bouquets, yes, but also in little pots meant for those who want to spruce up their personal space with something bright and beautiful. The petals come in every imaginable pattern and shade, from delicate white-edged purple flowers that look like roses to clusters of tie-dye daisies. Go one, take one - they all smell lovely, and are hardy enough to survive the brownest thumb.

c. the city and the beanstalk.

For those uninterested in the party, there is another option: scaling the monstrously huge plant that sprang up like Jack's beanstalk overnight. It's possible to climb out on the enormous leaves where they protrude from the stalk, if you just feel like going up high to take a nap away from the noise. Of course, the more adventurous or curious might want to take the opportunity to get a closer look at the dome that protects and powers the city.

A better look at the dome, and a better look at what's outside on the horizon. There are normal outcroppings of rocks, the remains of the ship that crashed and threw Santa through the windshield, the slowly growing martian strip mall, and some bits of things left behind by the red shifts here and there. A part of a car. An old transistor radio. A pulsing green gooey thing that you might want to stay away from - even odds on whether it's acidic or poisonous or both.

Look farther, though, and there's a vast smudge on the horizon. Using telescopes, binoculars, or special abilities will give you a better look at what it is.

A city, seemingly dead, seemingly empty, stretching almost from horizon to horizon. It's too far to make it on foot, and if you took one of the vehicles out of the garage it would get you there--but not all the way back. Of course, you can try to get there anyway, but a sandstorm is bound to whip up somewhere between here and there, a precursor to a proper hallucinatory red shift. Wouldn’t want to be caught out in that, would you?

d. 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 to take out the toothy voids? 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.

Comments

QUESTIONS.

[modblob]

Any mod questions can go here!

prompto argentum / final fantasy xv ( ota )

[burstmodes]

c. the city and the beanstalk

[ Climbing isn't exactly something he's good at, but it doesn't mean he isn't trying. Maybe he shouldn't have skipped arm day. Maybe he shouldn't have done a lot of things because he's still sort of reeling from everything that's been crammed into his brain so quickly. Yet, he's there, and he has to deal with it. No point being in denial, right? The people here seem like they have it hard enough as it is, and complaining isn't going to do much when he isn't going to get back home.

And what would he go back home to anyway? A bunch of chaos, the world turned upside-down and his best friend —

Prompto's mouth sets into a thin line, nearly slipping on the next pull up and yelping when he curls his arm tighter around the hold he's got on whatever it is he's climbing to keep from falling. Making it to the top leaves him a little breathless, but there's enough space to sprawl out and share with whoever else happens to be in the same spot. ] Whoa – [ His exclamation is sharp; it would have been absolutely impossible to sneak up on anyone considering how loud he's been the entire time. ] Pretty cool view, huh? What else d'you think's out there?

[ Because casual conversation might keep him from vibrating out of his skin. ]

d. network - username: viewfinder

hey so uh new guy here?
like really super new i guess
still not sure what to make of all this yet but i figured why not
might as well check this out
see what's what you know?

anyway anybody up for a little game of 20 questions
maybe something chill like...
what sorta stuff do people play here anyway?

oh and i've got a whole list of names if anyone happens to know em
just tell them prompto's here and send them my way 👍
thanks

[ He totally doesn't even realize he forgot to upload the list of people he's still looking for. Oops. ]

wildcard. whatever, whenever.

[ open to anything else on the tdm as well, plus anything available from the setting! if you want to plot, just pm me and we can hash some stuff out c: canon point is near the end of chapter 13 but still flexible; not a crau for now. will also match style re: action or prose. ]

@GOSUCKADICK; text

[substances]

20 questons is good
but uh
whatre ur names tho
u never said
ive been here like 4ever so i might kno

[burstmodes]

[ Prompto can feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. But only after he laughs so hard he almost falls over. ]

nice un dude 👌
just gotta say that first

and yeah right
sorry guess i forgot
we'll start with the easy ones
know anybody named ignis gladio or noct???

C

[nothinglikefather]

[ It is a pretty spectacular view, Jacob can't deny that. Far less crowded than a view from the top of St Paul's, it still manages to draw the eye. For a start, there is so much of it unknown and unexplained. And he can't help gaze at that city on the horizon.]

Fucked if I know.

[ It's said with no small amount of awe, and then he grins at the blonde young man who looks like he's had quite a work out.]

But I think we're going to find out at some point. That city... it could tell us so much about this place. Give us a clue to where we are and who built this colony. What happened to them.

[ He offers a grin, the shine of adventure in his eyes. Clearly, getting to that city is firing his imagination.]

Jacob Frye.

[burstmodes]

[ At first, he's so distracted with catching his breath and staring at at everything that he doesn't give the other guy a good once-over. Prompto hums, of course, in response to his comment, wiping at his forehead with the back of his arm, and then... wait. Why does that name sound so familiar? He peeks over the edge of his forearm and blinks. This has to be a dream, right? It wasn't his favorite Assassin's Creed, but there's no mistaking —

Yeah. He's just going to pretend that isn't a thing because he already feels crazy enough. ]

Um, Prompto. Prompto Argentum. [ His smile is pretty lackluster in comparison, but it's mostly just the surprise. He shakes his head. ] Yeah, uh... I guess you're right. What sorta stuff do we even know about where we are right now?

[ Sorry. He's still kind of new. ]

c

[islandhuntress]

[Petra is good at climbing. Very good. She'd arrived the day before and had climbed up the stalk the previous night, feeling much safer sleeping up here than anywhere else.

She easily hears him rustling around long before he ever gets close to the top. As he nears the top, she offers out a hand to help pull him up onto the final large leaf and then gives him space to take it all in.]

Cool? I was not noticing any difference in temperature up here. [She hides it well but this place unnerves her.] I am not knowing what else is here. It is very big... and very empty of life.

Arthur Morgan // Red Dead Redemption 2

[towhatmatters]

A. Arrival

The first thing Arthur notices is that he can actually breathe. It startles him enough that for several seconds, he doesn't begin to register where he is (not that he would know) or what's happening. He takes the first deep, easy breath that he's taken for weeks, and then starts patting himself down, almost surprised to find that there's nothing different. What did he expect? He's not sure. He had no expectations of what an afterlife would be, if there was one at all. It wouldn't have surprised him if it left all belongings behind, but he still has his clothes on, and his revolvers. Everything except the satchel, hat and rifle that he gave to John.

Then, he finally takes a look around, the dead plants and dried up fountain and, most important, the screen playing the welcome video. Now, he's seen moving pictures before, but this looks entirely different from that. Not only is it far smoother and clearer, it's in colour, and for a moment he's so distracted by the fact that he doesn't hear what the man is actually saying.

None of this makes any sense.

It doesn't make much more sense when he finally gets out from that room either. The place looks nothing like what he's used to, sleek and vast and ... boring? No, not boring. It's somehow ... lifeless. Perhaps it's the lack of people more than the building itself. He can't quite place it, but there's something off. While looking this way and that, he looks simultaneously confused, baffled and annoyed, and very clearly new. Help him out?

B. Robot party

There is a giant stalk. There is a giant stalk and, somehow, it's not the strangest thing here, because at least it's a plant, and plants make more sense than the rest of this building. But it's a giant stalk. He spends a good minute staring at it, wondering how it could even get that big in the first place. Is it a beanstalk? Has he found himself in some sort of fairy tale world?

Then he notices the commotion down below, and makes it his mission to find a way down there. And when he does, he's schedules for another minute or so of just staring. Not that he hasn't seen this before. In fact, the machines that are clearly having some kind of party seem like more advanced, sophisticated versions of what that professor ... Dragic, was trying to make. Life, was it? This certainly looks more like life than the fragile machine he built.

"Huh ... Maybe he was onto something," he mutters to himself, just as one of the robots notices that he's there.

It seems to take his staring as some kind of longing, and invites him to a dance.

He has to laugh at it, though it's closer to a sharp exhale than anything. Is this really happening? A machine is inviting him to a dance. And what was that it called him? Meatsack? Well ... He supposes it's not wrong.

With a baffled smile on his face, he lifts his hands, shaking his head.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

C. Wildcard

[ Give me a prompt if none of these strike your fancy. Arthur will be wandering around to try and learn where stuff is and probably looking continuously confused and baffled about it. He's also overall a helpful guy, so.

Also, brackets are very much fine if you prefer! ]

B

[nothinglikefather]

Jacob is there to survey the stalk more than he is to interfere with the robots. Not that he has anything against them, but he is a little baffled about machines with minds of their own. Its well beyond the science of his time, and while Angel could no doubt explain it, he might not understand why these machines act like they do anyway.

But does that make them much different to people?

He's not going to linger on that thought, but he is getting distracted from his original purpose but the strange scene. And other people seem to be getting pulled into the festivities too.

"That one seems to have taken a fancy to you." He says to one man with a robotic admirer or, at least, prospective dance partner.

C

[borntohurt]

Arthur Morgan is here.

That's the message he'd been sent, four simple words that hit like a freight train. Charles Smith is not a man to easily feel rattled, but that is exactly the word for it. Shaken, down to his bones.

He's here.

His feet carry him almost without thought through the complex, not quite running but still moving with purpose. He needs to see him with his own eyes for his mind to truly believe it. It's possible, of course. Different timelines and the like, and if Angel could have come here after what happened to her...

He can feel his pulse in his ears as he finally reaches the lowest levels, the greenest portion of Anchor by far. His eyes scan quietly, searching for sign of that familiar frame.

A. (i'm sorry)

[hypothermic]

Arthur knows he's arrived in Anchor and not heaven when he meets Leonard Snart, a man who would egg the pearly gates and pick-pocket the devil, given the chance. A tall, lean man who doesn't bother to hide the fact he's trying to break into a utility closet with a set of lock-picking tools glares up at Arthur from where he's kneeling on the floor, one hand drifting to his hip in that timelessly cagey fashion.

At least it's something Arthur can recognize.

"You got a staring problem, cowboy?"

The bad mood isn't Arthur's fault. It's hard to catch Leonard in any other way, especially on his rare escapades into the colony proper. He's always edgy. Ready and waiting for this place to do something crazy, or go to shit, like it always does.

Anchor is something like purgatory. Not good, or evil, but distressingly neutral. Anchor doesn't care of if you're claustrophobic, anti-social, or ambitious, the colony, and the changing landscape surrounding it, will keep on keeping on whether you like it or not. Everyone else is just along for the ride.

Len's fingers remain perfectly still near the holster of his cold gun, a heavy, strange looking fire-arm strapping to his thigh, waiting on this Clint Eastwood looking motherfucker to give him a reason to use it.

Then he sees the door past Arthur, and does the math. Everyone stumbles out of the receiving room with the similar stupid, near pitiful looks on their faces. Like lost puppies.

Some more violent than others.

"If you're waiting for the welcome wagon, it ain't coming. People come and go all the time. No one cares." A smirk, hand falling away from the holster of his gun as Len shrugs off Arthur as no immediate annoyance or threat, is the only housewarming gift on offer.

A

[sleepyhollowed]

Ever since regaining his eyesight after what could only be described as the ultimate multi-level marketing scheme of trauma, Kieran has gone the extra mile (sometimes literally) to move around Anchor and really absorb his surroundings, much like how he had at the beginning of his stay. Now, though, there's more of an intense scrutiny behind his exploration. He tries to pay attention to the sounds, the way the air changes, if the smells range from stagnant to somewhat life-filled, even if not anywhere near the complexity of the fresh air back home.

It's calming, in its own way, or as calming as any activity can be to the perpetually nervous cowboy.

He finds himself close to the arrival area, memories from his own initial foray into Anchor floating into his mind. His eyes scan the cavernous room, sleek walls and all, until they fall on one familiar--and imposing--figure.

Kieran squints and, before he can stop himself, incredulously blurts a name aloud.

"Mister Arthur?"

Jacob Frye - AC Syndicate - CRAU from City of Sin

[nothinglikefather]

A. Are Friends Electric?

Jacob doesn't know what to think about the robots. He's not sure exactly how they have sentience, and while he doesn't want to take it away, it confuses him. He's got to grips with werewolves and monsters, alien powers and mobile phones, but talking thinking robots are several stages beyond Siri.

But he'll lean back against the table of edible foodstuffs, picking at it and watching. It really is astounding, and he wonders briefly what Alec would make of this. What anyone from 1868 would make of this.

He doesn't notice the robot that makes his way up to him. His senses aren't honed for robots, only creatures with heartbeats and muscles and sinews. He jumps when it tugs on his coat.

"I don't dance."

C. I Want To Break Free

The climb isn't as tough as it could be. Yes, it's long, very long, but the stem isn't smooth and there are strong leaves at regular intervals which seem to support his weight. It's a little like climbing a factory chimney, in so far that it's round and tall and seems to sway very slightly, and also in the fact that falling means certain death.

But Jacob Frye doesn't fall. At least, not often. At least, not to his death. At least not when people can see.

He helps whoever needs it on the way, because the other thing he has that most people don't is a grappling hook. Fired from a device at his wrist, it can bury itself in the stem quite deep, enough to support his weight and someone else's on the thin rope.

When he gets to the top, he is dumbstruck. Not by the miles and miles and miles of wasteland, the strange goo, the wreckage. What he sees, what his eye is drawn to, is that city on the horizon. He is always drawn to cities, and he itches to go.

"How difficult do you think it would be to get there?"

Wildcard!

Whatever you want, however you want it.

C

[killedwithlove]

Sitting on the edge of a leaf, legs swinging and gaze on the distance. He's got his knives strapped on his back, but they look out of place over the black hoodie, which is horribly mismatched with the leather armour pants and the bare feet.

"Crossing a Rift, keeping yourself, crossing back to another place? The Shift will get you long before the sands." He can feel the Shift coming, prickling over the back of his neck. "How difficult is that? I don't know."

C

[mustact]

It's not too unlike climbing a tree. In a way, it's easier, because the leaves are frequent and as firm and steady as branches. Ratonhnhaké:ton only needs to pause once or twice on the way up to consider the best path, and when they finally reach the top, it takes a moment for him to start taking in what he's actually seeing. He's not sure he's ever climbed quite this high, and at first he's amazed at the vastness of the wasteland around them.

If this were home, the wind would likely be strong up here, but the shield blocks it.

When he finally registers the city, he frowns deeply in confusion, surprised to see it. Is Anchor not the first to be built on this planet? Is the city older or newer? Is it inhabited?

He shakes his head.

"I don't know."

Truly. What precisely do they have available to them for transport? Going by foot is surely impossible.

[theweakhavepurpose]

B. Every Prepper Stash Needs Sprucing Up
Pratt has a pot of purple and black spotted tulips in his hands, looking at it in the very unsure way one would look at a package to determine if it was a bomb. There's a part of him that wants to put this on the little kitchenette table in his room to make the place look a little nicer.

But there's also the very forced masculine part of him that is yelling about taking home a pointless flower because it's pretty. Maybe he should put it back?

Though.. he wants it. Please help.

D. Network: @ Pratt
Anyone climb the flower thing? What's up there?

I'm hoping for footlong sunflower seeds because that'd be fucking awesome.

B

[killedwithlove]

"They're very pretty."

Cole likes flowers. He always has and he does now, just appearing at Pratt's side and reaching out to touch a leaf on them. "If you like them, you should take them with you and look after them. They'll bring you happiness in exchange. That's a good deal."

B.

[abheirrant]

Pratt isn't the only one with a pot of flowers in tow: Carlisle has three in his arms, each one a different shade and shape. He spots Pratt from across the way and beelines over, his pace hurried as he darts around the cushions and the colored smoke of the hookahs.

"Oh good, Deputy." He gives a small bow in greeting, just enough of a dip to make it obvious, and nearly too much as he almost drops one of his pots. "Your opinion on these, if you don't mind. And quickly, as I'm afraid I'll kill them just from holding them for too long."

B.

[circumitus]

Being something of a masculine woman herself, one probably wouldn't suspect that Rey appreciated simple things like pretty flowers. But she does. It's nice to take a moment and appreciate the beauty that still exists in the world.

Or, in this case, in this world. Anchor isn't exactly the most glamorous place, with various parts of it looking like it's still in shambles and then some. So when she notices the flowers and a man looking rather conflicted about them, she can't help but reveal a ghost of a smile.

"Taking those for someone, or yourself?"

Rey was considering bringing some back to her room. Elleru might enjoy a little color as well.

D. @Rook

[nothinglikefather]

Foot long sunflower seeds? You are going to be disappointed.


But the view is something else.

B.

[fishermansweater]

Finnick has a reason to take flowers. Of course, to Finnick, 'because they're pretty' is reason enough, because he's always had a liking for beautiful things, as complicated as his relationship with beautiful people can be. But the most important reason is that flowers would make Annie happy, so he's considering the potted plants very seriously, with an eye to color and form, though those are Annie's specialty rather than his.

Still, he knows he can pick the things that will make her the happiest.

He looks up from a bright yellow flower he's considering to see Pratt holding a pot and looking at it like he's not sure if it's going to bite him or not.

"I say go for it," he offers.

[circumspector]

i. flower crowns
She might have tried every single hookah pipe there is.

Granted it takes a lot for her to feel the effect of anything for a long while. Between a life of impossible horrifying drugs that let her rip apart reality with her mind, to her increased metabolism and muscle density, she'd have to do a hell of a lot more to really mess her up.

But what it does is make her very content, gathering up petals and flowers and beginning to weave together flower crowns. That she makes them and dresses in them. It's not quite as good as living like a feral animal in the forest, but it was probably more palatable.

"Come here," she croons soft when she finds company. Her voice is soothingly sweet. "I have something for you."

She holds the petals like jewels, as they fall around them, catching around her horns and hair and fur. Maybe in another life, she could have been this peaceful always, but she is now, and how grand that is.

ii. do robots do the electric waltz?
Angel dances neither well or with much skill.

But she is deeply enthusiastic to make up for it. Doesn't particularly need anyone as an excuse, spinning about in circles with her arms out. Her hooves clipping - more like the stories of forest satyrs and nymphs than she'd think she was than what a Minotaur was strictly meant to be - as she went about. Half mad from the pleasant feeling smoke.

Just as quick to take someone's hand, no more bothered by the robots - of course they wanted to dance, so happy that they got to, as Cl4p-TP had always wanted. Free to enjoy themselves and be liked. Spinning about madly free, hand in hand with whoever joined her.

That stay with her long enough for it, she doesn't think very much when she kisses her partner. Not deeply or needily. But a soft peck on the mouth, where her lips are tangey from the orange juice, and she shakes off the petals that have clung to her with a flick of her mane and laughs to run back and onwards into the throng of people.

No, she's not much good at any of this, but she is certainly happy enough to make up for all of it with boundless laughter that trickles out of her constantly.

[superposition]

[ At this point, Qubit's pretty sure he shows up at these festivals out of habit more than anything. It's hard enough to let his guard down and relax under normal circumstances - although the robots doing something bizarre and alien plants exploding out of the ground overnight are normal circumstances around here, come to think of it. At least it all seems to be nontoxic this time.

Still, he's a bit of a wallflower this time around. The refreshments are bare-bones, and he's not interested in vaping or dancing or falling to his death, thank you, and that doesn't exactly leave much in the way of entertainment. He's just made up his mind to leave when suddenly-

His hand flinches involuntarily as Angel's closes around it, but she's much, much stronger than he is, and before he knows it he finds himself stumbling onto the dance floor behind her. He tries to dig in his heels and pull away, but yeah, no, he can't compete with that kind of grip strength. ]

Hey! Do you mind?!

Julie Grigio | closed to Klaus

[redwinekindofgirl]

She's been getting more and more restless. Anchor isn't all that bad, but between the spurts of activity the lengths of time in which things seem far too calm are starting to get to her. Julie isn't used to calm. At home, calm usually means bad. Calm usually means something is about to happen. Calm usually means someone isn't telling her something.

So, when she has the opportunity to inject some adrenaline into her system, she takes it. Of course she's going to climb the massive plant that just popped up out of the ground like something out of a fairy story.

She climbs - slips a few times, sending small leaves and bits of vegetation fluttering to the ground - but makes it to the top with her heart pounding and feeling more alive than she has in days. Her now constant companion, the small cat-creature that talks (but only to her) is somehow beside her when she reaches the top, but she's stopped questioning how it does things.

"Oh my god..." she mutters, then shifts as she hears someone calling for her. Her head appears over the edge of the highest leaf she was able to reach, and she peers down to the ground.

"--Hey!! Uh, do you have any binoculars?"

[substances]

Without drugs, it's actually kind of easy to get bored, which isn't something Klaus is really used to exactly. His whole life has been a constant scramble to try to survive, and to get the next hit, so he's not really ever been...well, this sober for this long and without all that much to really do besides maintain the spa and his pot plants.

So when Julie had declared she was going to climb the tripworthy Jack and the Giant Beanstalk, he'd tagged along. As much as he doubts his own athletic ability, he's not planning on climbing it, really. Just, you know, watching.

At least until she pokes her head back over the edge of a massive leaf and asks if he has binoculars.

"Uuhhhhhh yeah, shit, sorry I forgot to give them to you!"

For just a second, he waits, staring upward, and then he steps forward, "Fuck it, I'll come up there."