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Mods ([personal profile] modblob) wrote in [community profile] redmarsshit2020-02-21 07:33 pm
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test drive meme: february 2020

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.



burstmodes: (pic#13775016)

prompto argentum / final fantasy xv ( ota )

[personal profile] burstmodes 2020-02-22 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
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. ]
towhatmatters: (→13)

Arthur Morgan // Red Dead Redemption 2

[personal profile] towhatmatters 2020-02-22 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
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! ]
nothinglikefather: made by peaked (071)

Jacob Frye - AC Syndicate - CRAU from City of Sin

[personal profile] nothinglikefather 2020-02-22 10:40 am (UTC)(link)
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.
Edited 2020-02-22 10:43 (UTC)
theweakhavepurpose: (Thinking)

[personal profile] theweakhavepurpose 2020-02-24 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
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.
circumspector: (( twirl ) » don't want your opinion)

[personal profile] circumspector 2020-02-26 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
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.
redwinekindofgirl: (051)

Julie Grigio | closed to Klaus

[personal profile] redwinekindofgirl 2020-02-29 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
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?"