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redmarsshit2020-04-27 08:43 pm
modblob) wrote in redmarsshit2020-04-27 08:43 pm
Entry tags:
test drive meme: april 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.
▶ SPECIAL NOTE: We're only a month off from the 1 year anniversary of the first TDM, and we received this request for a fancy dress ball, so we thought it would befunny fun to run with it! This TDM will only have one prompt/event, as the monthly log with a bit more plot-related stuff will be going up on Friday May 1st.
▶ 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.
▶ SPECIAL NOTE: We're only a month off from the 1 year anniversary of the first TDM, and we received this request for a fancy dress ball, so we thought it would be
a. an invitation.
There are ears everywhere in Anchor. A maintenance bot here, a surveillance AI there. SINI, restlessly pacing the dark digital hallways as she watches over the things that still matter to her. It doesn't take long for word to get out about Starscream's expedition plans. It takes an even shorter time for that news to circulate amongst Anchor's robo-population.
They know when you're unhappy. They always know.
It's why residents will start waking up one fine day to find gorgeous clothes laid out for them to wear and an invitation to a formal dinner taking place down at the plaza at Anchor’s base. The clothes aren't particularly specific to a character's gender, species, or culture - it's all about what the bots think your character would like best. Even if they're wildly off the mark, the clothes are still made to fit and fashioned beautifully. The invitations are marked "TOMORROW, STARTING AT 6PM LOCAL TIME." A smaller note underneath instructs attendees to see the tailor bot adjacent to the spa if they are unsatisfied with their assigned clothing, and also that the spa bots are on high alert, prepared to beautify anyone who wants some extra pampering and a dash of makeup.
Just be careful. Some of the makeover bots are really fond of glitter.
They know when you're unhappy. They always know.
It's why residents will start waking up one fine day to find gorgeous clothes laid out for them to wear and an invitation to a formal dinner taking place down at the plaza at Anchor’s base. The clothes aren't particularly specific to a character's gender, species, or culture - it's all about what the bots think your character would like best. Even if they're wildly off the mark, the clothes are still made to fit and fashioned beautifully. The invitations are marked "TOMORROW, STARTING AT 6PM LOCAL TIME." A smaller note underneath instructs attendees to see the tailor bot adjacent to the spa if they are unsatisfied with their assigned clothing, and also that the spa bots are on high alert, prepared to beautify anyone who wants some extra pampering and a dash of makeup.
Just be careful. Some of the makeover bots are really fond of glitter.
b. quite the spread.
True to the word of the invitation, the plaza is closed off under large white tents and guarded by bots who encouragingly steer you elsewhere should you try to get inside. They're nice, polite, all the things they've been programmed to be whether they like it or not, but there will be no sneaking by them into the party area.
At 6pm on the dot the day after the clothes arrive, characters will find music playing on all levels of Anchor, broadcast from the musical robots who have been practicing ever since that first tiny party almost a year ago.
Invitations will be taken by a bot in an impeccably tailored suit, and characters will be welcomed onto the red carpet that curves around the edge of the park and into the area cordoned off for festivities. The flashbulbs and cheering of bots that line the carpet echo through Anchor, broadcast along with the music until it sounds like the entire place is full of faintly electronic cheering. Each arrival is greeted with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, their image projected larger than life against the interior of Anchor's dome.
The sides of the tents have been rolled up, revealing the absolutely decadent set-up within.
Rows upon rows of buffet tables laid out with the most extravagant and strange dishes for residents to try. All of it delicious, though not all of it will appeal to every palate. There are sweet dishes, savory, spicy, whatever you can imagine. Appetizers of a hundred different kinds. Fruit plates formed into works of art, showing places and events from around Anchor. There are spun sugar reindire. Tiny plates of hors d'oeuvres that depict the faces of residents, both current and former. One particularly large dish is sculpted in the shape of what looks like an explosion emanating from Anchor's base, near where the locked and flooded rooms were found.
There's a cake near the middle of it all, frosting painting an image of a young, smiling man. Anyone who's seen him will, after a moment, recognize the whole and handsome features of a much younger Creepy Joe - the words on the cake say LET'S CELEBRATE OUR OLDEST LIVING RESIDENT!
While most of the food is at least recognizably from the general stores and from the agricultural level, there are other plants and garnishes that look entirely foreign. If asked where they came from, the bots will simply insist they're part of Anchor’s available resources.
There is also a full-service bar, but...not manned by the usual bartender (for anyone who might ask, the other bots will kindly inform them that the usual bartender is on sabbatical for stress). Instead there's a freshly-built bot serving drinks of all kinds, taking requests for old favorites and mixing up new cocktails based on guests' stated tastes.
The only thing not on the menu is a tequila sunrise.
There's a table full of hookahs and little treats that have various light, pleasant effects. These range from simple mood lifts to treats that will leave characters blissed out and relaxed.
At 6pm on the dot the day after the clothes arrive, characters will find music playing on all levels of Anchor, broadcast from the musical robots who have been practicing ever since that first tiny party almost a year ago.
Invitations will be taken by a bot in an impeccably tailored suit, and characters will be welcomed onto the red carpet that curves around the edge of the park and into the area cordoned off for festivities. The flashbulbs and cheering of bots that line the carpet echo through Anchor, broadcast along with the music until it sounds like the entire place is full of faintly electronic cheering. Each arrival is greeted with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, their image projected larger than life against the interior of Anchor's dome.
The sides of the tents have been rolled up, revealing the absolutely decadent set-up within.
Rows upon rows of buffet tables laid out with the most extravagant and strange dishes for residents to try. All of it delicious, though not all of it will appeal to every palate. There are sweet dishes, savory, spicy, whatever you can imagine. Appetizers of a hundred different kinds. Fruit plates formed into works of art, showing places and events from around Anchor. There are spun sugar reindire. Tiny plates of hors d'oeuvres that depict the faces of residents, both current and former. One particularly large dish is sculpted in the shape of what looks like an explosion emanating from Anchor's base, near where the locked and flooded rooms were found.
There's a cake near the middle of it all, frosting painting an image of a young, smiling man. Anyone who's seen him will, after a moment, recognize the whole and handsome features of a much younger Creepy Joe - the words on the cake say LET'S CELEBRATE OUR OLDEST LIVING RESIDENT!
While most of the food is at least recognizably from the general stores and from the agricultural level, there are other plants and garnishes that look entirely foreign. If asked where they came from, the bots will simply insist they're part of Anchor’s available resources.
There is also a full-service bar, but...not manned by the usual bartender (for anyone who might ask, the other bots will kindly inform them that the usual bartender is on sabbatical for stress). Instead there's a freshly-built bot serving drinks of all kinds, taking requests for old favorites and mixing up new cocktails based on guests' stated tastes.
The only thing not on the menu is a tequila sunrise.
There's a table full of hookahs and little treats that have various light, pleasant effects. These range from simple mood lifts to treats that will leave characters blissed out and relaxed.
c. dance, our residents, dance!
After people have finished arriving, the band picks up and guests' attention is directed upward toward Anchor's dome, where there's a truly magnificent light show being projected with musical accompaniment. It's spectacular, haunting and beautiful...and it shows more than just lights. It also shows celestial bodies in motion across the planet's dusk-red sky, meteor showers, strange northern lights. The show itself is almost an hour long, and ends with words unfurling across the apex of the dome.
HAPPY ∞ +1 ANNIVERSARY ANCHOR #3, THE LONGEST RUNNING COLONY.
STAY HERE, STAY HAPPY!
The show fades away and the music picks up again, encouraging guests to dance.
Go on, dance.
It’s a party after all.
STAY HERE, STAY HAPPY!
The show fades away and the music picks up again, encouraging guests to dance.
Go on, dance.
It’s a party after all.
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.
Whatever the reason, the network is going strong, so feel free to include a post to it in your top-levels.
Hanzo Shimada | Overwatch | In-Game
That being said, he still shows up.
Largely he appears to be spending his time partaking of the drinks -- though rather than take advantage of the sudden variety, he definitely appears to be sticking to one type of drink throughout the evening. His glass doesn't appear to ever be empty in his hand.
Half of that reason is an excuse not to step out onto the dance floor. Though he will observe from the edges with aloof disinterest and a mildly judging look. Form, skill, appearance, all under quiet scrutiny.
Of course he has to loosen up eventually, rather than simply glide along the edges like a particularly sullen peacock. His tiny blob-turned-dragon occasionally perches on his shoulder or skitters about for reconnaissance, and Hanzo retires to one of the comfortable sitting areas to partake of the hookah. Only then does the tension in his shoulders appear to relax by even the smallest degrees.
Despite his distant demeanor, he will speak if spoken to. Tonight, the dragon's bark is worse than his bite.
no subject
How the tables have turned.
Party-boy here is feeling self conscious and awkward and hasn't been to an event in years other than the small celebrations after a Blackwatch mission which were more competitions in getting blackout drunk. He's nowhere near that yet, but he's definitely not on his first drink. Or even his third.
Sitting nearby on one of the cushions around the hookah, he crosses his legs and cradles his current glass between metal fingers. "Have you tried any of these?"
He nods to the glass, whatever he's drinking is bright green.
no subject
It is somewhat amusing, his blob-dragon watching as the smoke issues from his nose, almost dragon-like himself, before it attempts to snag the puffs of smoke with a tiny claw. It seems to have a mischievous side quite unlike Hanzo's own demeanor, and Genji will have noticed the creature rifling through his things while they were both asleep, or getting into places it shouldn't.
Perhaps more like what Hanzo might have been like, if all that hadn't been studiously trained out of him, long ago.
no subject
He folds his metal legs beneath him, sipping his drink and making sure to hold it in his left hand. There's a good chance he may accidentally crush the glass in his other.
"It is nice that this happened, it was kind of getting depressing here. Everyone stressed and unhappy." He's probably talking about himself more than the rest of the residents.
no subject
"...is there a reason you did not do this before, then? If it makes you so happy." His brow furrows slightly as he looks around. It's a handful of people in a familiar place. There's no reason they couldn't have come together and drank as much as they pleased any time they wished to do so.
Of course, he knows little of what happens here on a general basis, so. Maybe don't listen to his advice, this once.
no subject
He shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink. Actually make that several sips. "No one would come if I put it together. But if it's part of the towns doing, then they will. And I could not have gathered so much food."
no subject
And some part of him wants to point out that people would come. That Genji has never had a problem making friends, charming people into doing things for him. That he succeeds in a way that Hanzo never will.
Instead, his eyes cut sideways towards the rest of the house, as he takes another drink of his own, unadulterated drink.
no subject
"Maybe now is your turn to be the careless one. Your honor hardly matters here." He says the word as if it's a curse. At this point, it almost is. "You need to learn to have fun."
no subject
But here, in the corner, people weren't quite so ... so... pressing. That and everyone that seems to take of the smoke, becomes placid in a way they might not have been a moment before. Which given the general strangeness of everything.
She says nothing to him when he sits across from her, but in truth, she has an eye more fixed on the dancing in the same longing but has she has not been invited to with someone, she still feels remiss in taking it up herself.
It is only when she shifts and she realizes that she might have gone even slightly into his space ( she couldn't have been more than a foot near him ), that she immediately lowers her head in apology. "Forgive me, sir, I do not wish to intrude."
no subject
If anything, he'd come into her space, though still giving her plenty of it as he settles in. His posture still isn't quite as relaxed as the others lounging around the place, but that stiff-backed arrangement of his frame seems just as natural to him.
"Do you happen to know what this one contains?" he asks after a moment, selecting a hose and arching an eyebrow at the prim-looking woman. Who seems not to be partaking in any of it, just sitting here for reasons unknown.
Hm.
no subject
"I am afraid I do not know what it is at all. I was just looking to... to... sit somewhere quietly."
Oh Gilia, have you ever been interested in anything in your life? Why yes, yes she had, Brother-Dear. Her interests had left her safe and sound.
no subject
He gives a polite little nod of his head. "Then I will not disturb you further," he assures her, before taking hold of one of the hoses. It seems a sweet, floral scent, like pear and jasmine, and after a moment he draws briefly with a bubbling in the glass base of the hookah.
Slowly, smoke creeps out from his nostrils, and a moment later a blue, serpentine snout pokes over his shoulder to observe the curling tendrils.
no subject
When the little blue... dragon? She thinks it might be a dragon. Like the ones she often saw playing in the waves... she can't help but smile. What a sweet spirit!
Gilia lets her hand drop to the flask she had hidden at her side, slowly unscrewing it, to call the water out from within it. It wasn't much water, just what she kept with her as was the custom. For that, her control is fine-tuned. Comfortably, she weave it around her fingers in mimicry of waves before she drifts it towards the little Dragon in a ribbon that holds it's shaping without dripping, letting it drift and tease without dripping water everywhere or all over him - just for the little dragon to play with if it wanted to.
Oh, she did love to find reasons like this to cheer others.
no subject
Not really. It's just water. It's the woman controlling it that now has his interest, and for a moment he wonders just what is in these hookahs, after all.
"...that is quite a gift," he notes softly, after a moment, one thick eyebrow arching.
no subject
However, when Hanzo shows up at this party, surely he expects to at least have to talk a little. That, and Ratonhnhaké:ton thinks they got along well enough, as much as he thought Hanzo was rather rash to decide that the reindire needed to be killed.
So, with a glass of beer in hand, he approaches the edge of the dance floor and watches the dragon curiously for a moment.
He's only seen pictures of them in books.
"Does your friend have a name?"
no subject
Curiosity about the dragon amuses him, mostly because to Hanzo's mind? It is no true dragon. It is a creature that assumed the form of one, a pretender. It does remind him somewhat of the way Genji's spirit dragon manifests itself, at least, so even if it is a false dragon it is a reasonable copy.
It is also very curious about many things, in the way Hanzo never really allows himself to be. Its jewel-bright eyes fix on Ratonhnhaké:ton as he approaches, its head tilting with an almost bird-like chirrup.
no subject
"Perhaps it is waiting for you to give it one."
no subject
Its reptilian eyes don't convey emotions well, but the way it seems to tilt into the touch says that it's enjoying itself well enough, and the man is not likely to be bitten if he continues with his attentions.
no subject
It's a little surprising that it hasn't said anything yet. From his experience, they could be quite chatty.
It's a cute little thing, though, isn't it?
no subject
Or perhaps his is an outlier. Hard to say. Even if it isn't talking now, it does seem to like Connor, and after a moment it sees fit to begin climbing its way down his arm.
Hanzo grunts, reaching to halt its progress. "My apologies."
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It takes a while into the night before Julie feels like dancing, after several drinks and a while spent in a particularly relaxing hookah session, but it's while she's partaking of the latter than she spots him and watches him for a few moments as if trying to work out where she knows him from.
"... Hey," she says, eventually. "You're Hanzo, right?"
no subject
He'd not even asked her name, at the time. So mistrustful of everyone and everything here. There's a twinge of something almost like regret before his expression flattens to something more neutral.
"I am. I remember you."
Though the two of them look quite different now, under the glow of the party lights and dressed in their bot-mandated finest.
no subject
Because you never know if someone's disappeared and been replaced by someone else, or if something weird is going on. Not really something you ever get used to.
"You didn't tell me your name, or anything. I got it from your brother."
no subject
There's a brief flare of his nostrils at the mention of his brother, but nothing more than that. "I still do not know yours," he points out, chin lifting slightly.
So, the implication goes, it's only fair she give it to him now.
no subject
She could have played a game with that, but really... she's not in the mood. Being at this party is prompting a weird kind of cognitive dissonance. It's normally the kind of thing she'd enjoy, yet she's struggling to really enjoy herself.
Figures.
"Julie Cabernet. You didn't look much like you wanted to talk the first time I saw you."