redmarsshit | test drive meme: april 2020

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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 be ~~funny~~ 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm fine."

He's quick to assure him, of course. Whatever remaining strands of doubt still cling, it has nothing to do with them. With this. For too long he's wandered aimlessly looking for a people and a home, and now that he has them? It's the only certainty in the world or worlds that he knows.

He's happy. As much madness tends to whirl around them, as incomprehensible as everything is sometimes, not everything is so complicated.

"I know." Which is to say, he knows Charles wants to reassure him. That this place is okay, as long as their little family is together. But this is more than that - this is about Charles enjoying himself and forgetting about whatever else is out there or around the next corner. This is about living in the moment.

Which is why he leans in a little closer as they dance, pressing a kiss to Charles' lips.

"And you aren't all that bad at dancing, either."

"That's a lie, and you know it."

Charles just chuckles at that, though he is making an effort, here. Trying to move with the music, to follow Jacob's steps and not land wrong. Luckily it's a slow enough song he's not in danger of anything too wild.

"Not as good as you, anyway."

"A nice lie." He grins, knowing he's caught red handed. But this isn't terrible, and so far it's more fun than it's painful.

"Father wanted us to learn. I'm not sure why Evie was the one that always got more invitations to dance, maybe she just looked better in a red dress."

Not that she liked those dresses at all. But more often than not it gave him the excuse to have the fun of running across rooftops.

A soft hum of consideration. "Maybe so. Think you look just fine as is."

Better than, if the slightly crinkled smile he gives Jacob is anything to go by. He's always had a look of roguish handsomeness to him, something Charles hadn't necessarily thought to appreciate before they'd gotten together. Now? He finds himself reflecting on it a little more.

Jacob looks sharp, a heartbreaker in any social setting. The party's just an excuse to show off just how good they can all look, but Charles's attention solidly focused on him, and no one besides.

Jacob can't help being flattered. They've always been few and far between, and he's always hungry for them. From Charles more than anyone else, because he trusts them to be true, to be offered freely and with no other motive than to speak the truth as he sees it.

He lowers he eyes just for a heartbeat as if it will hide the pleasure that the compliment brings. It doesn't. There's very little that could diminish that smile.

"You aren't so bad yourself. That blue suits you. It really suits you." Charles is handsome all the time, whatever he chooses to wear, whatever form he's in. But something about that colour is perfect in him, and Jacob's hands move to smooth over his shoulders as they dance.

"Does it? I don't know a lot about these things, but it looked alright." He smirks quietly, but more in self-deprecation than anything else. He doesn't see himself the way Jacob does, probably won't ever. Not after a lifetime of evidence to the contrary.

But if even he can find someone who looks at him the way Jacob does, he must be doing something right.

A little squeeze to his wrist and his steps become a little more sure, for a time. "Suits you, though. You could look like a real gentleman." That smirk shifts a little as he leans close to his ear in a warm murmur.

"If I didn't know better."

"I'm not an expert either." Clothes are functional. They keep the warm in and the wet out and hopefully they have enough pockets for everything you need.

And while Jacob has had some luck in getting things tailored to suit his tastes, he hasn't been allowed to wear things just because he likes them. Assassins have to be more prepared than that. Charles probably has to be more mindful too, making sure he has what he needs and no more or less than that.

The city was different. This place is different.

"That leather jacket you had. The one you wore to the Carry Okay party. That looked good too." He offers, and there's a hint of desire in his words and on his lips as he says it.

"Real gentleman?" He repeats, before those lower wicked words send thrills through every nerve. "I've got a knighthood. Don't come more genteel than me." He moves closer, flush against Charles. "But I can still be a bad influence. We could leave early..."

"We could. You sure you want to?"

There's a lot to see and do here, and the party won't always be here. These opportunities for comfort are always fleeting, and him?

Well. He's not going anywhere. Not for all the world.

"I know where you sleep, remember," he adds, with a chuckle, as the song starts to draw towards its ending notes. "But if you're tired of the party already..."

"If you're coming with me? I'd leave in a heartbeat."

In truth, if given the opportunity, he would have stayed back in the quad. yes there is a chance to learn things here, to have a good time with free food, and the booze he's missed for what seems like months but he'd give all of that up if Charles had wanted to stay home.

"Normally it's under you." Jacob chuckles, hand moving from Charles' shoulder to the nape of his neck, the solid muscle strong under his fingers, hair dark and soft. "I could take a little break. There's bound to be a little quiet corner we could occupy for a little while, if you're hungry for something the bar isn't serving?"

Never took much to turn spark to flame, where Jacob was concerned, and that was in all things. But particularly this.

"Mm. No rush. Just something to consider for later on," he replies almost innocently, before the song finally ends and he nods towards the edge of the dance floor. A guiding hand slips to the small of Jacob's back, pressing firmly as they walk.

"I don't plan on staying in this get-up all night, that's for damn sure."

He's almost sorry the dance is over. He was enjoying the closeness, the easiness of it towards the end, when Charles had found his rhythm and forgotten about everyone else around them.

But the hand on the small of his back is more than good enough to repel any regret about leaving the dance floor, and it spreads warmth through him.

"I can help with that." He offers, leaning back against that hand and against Charles' side, his Eagle Vision scanning the venue for a quiet corner.

"There's a little room behind the bar. If you want to... take that jacket off."

"Patience."

Something it was difficult at any point to convince Jacob of, but even more so in situations like these. Like a dog catching scent, he was now caught up in the idea, and Charles had admittedly known that would be the case the moment he uttered a word.

He isn't normally one for public displays, himself. Old instincts meant to shield him from hurt. But there are moments that a little boldness is allowed, perhaps meant for in fact, and instead of slipping off somewhere quiet he leans closer and catches the corner of Jacob's mouth in a brief kiss.

"We'll get there," he promises, and he means it. Jacob can look forward to that by evening's end, that's for damn sure.

There's a soft sigh, muted by the unexpected but always welcome kiss. Patience is easy for Charles to say, and easy for him to display, but Jacob isn't good at cooling his heels and waiting for the right moment. He knows that he should, he knows that really, it's much better to sneak off later, or wait till they're back in the quad. It's enough to calm the spark in his blood from becoming an inferno.

He knows that it doesn't mean Charles doesn't want him. Charles doesn't demand his attention only when he wants him for something, he doesn't turn him on and off at will like Jacob is a tool, a machine. Charles cares for him, Charles looks after him. And that makes the prospect of waiting not just bearable, it makes his anticipate it far more.

"Well, I suppose you must have a few other names on your dance card. Can't monopolise you all night."

"You can. And you would. I know you."

Keeping close, Charles lifts his head to glance around the party. He appreciates that it's not some grand hall, but a park set up with various tents. It makes it feel more open, less like some gilded cage they're all stuck in.

For a while, it's easy to think that maybe they're here by choice.

"Seems like your leg's doing better," he notes, arching an eyebrow as he looks back to Jacob.

Jacob's not so bad as to demand Charles' attention at all times, he doesn't feel as jealous as he thought he would about Arthur Morgan's presence here. In fact he rather likes the man, although he wasn't sure he would.

But maybe if no one else needs Charles right now, they can just bask in each other's company a little while longer. Jacob would rather be here than anywhere else.

"Oh, someone bandaged it up for me." He says with dry amusement. "I wasn't going to bother but as it turns out, it helped it heal pretty well."

It's still going to leave a scar. Not a nasty one, just another to add to his collection.

"You mean to tell me if you treat a wound, it heals up better? Huh. Learn something new every day."

Yes. He's giving him guff about it. Because often times Jacob will just swan off and leave things as they are, rather than trying to take care of them in progress. Most of the time it's fine, but...it's worrisome. He worries.

Surely he can't be faulted for that.

"You and me both know there's times you can't just stop what you're doing to play doctors and nurses. Mores the pity."

After all, how often are they hurt while defending friends, or those unable to fight for themselves? How often do they put their own needs aside for others? In Charles' case, every day. For Jacob, maybe less often, but if he's hurt it's because there are a few big bastards who want to see him hurt, if not dead, and giving them a taste of their own medicine is more pressing than finding bandages.

"Besides, it was just a scratch really. You're the one who ingested most of that plant." And his expression becomes more tender, fingers moving to brush Charles' hair back. "You have to be careful with yourself. It goes both ways."

"One of us heals a little quicker than the other," he reminds him, though after a moment he concedes with a huff.

"We're not just fighting for ourselves. Got to be careful. I will be, too."

If only to avoid the sad looks Jacob might turn his way, otherwise. For a deadly assassin, he might as well count 'guilt tripping' as one of his more effective weapons, and Charles couldn't even be certain he had the guile to do it on purpose.

"One of us is well aware." Jacob replies. Charles already knows what Jacob thinks of his abilities, and while he knows Charles suffers, there are benefits. The quick healing is one of them. The strength and agility he possesses are incredible.

But he won't raise that again, not here, but he leans in and rests his head briefly against Charles' shoulder again. "Good. You're too important to lose."

Thankfully, Charles doesn't say that. If he did, Jacob would scoff because his guilt-tripping only ever works on Charles. Maybe Angel on occasions.

"You're not going to lose me."

It's a fear, and a valid one. He'd spent quite a while on his own for a while, after Angel, Connor, and Jacob had all vanished from the City. It was possible they'd be separated, that he knows.

But that wasn't the end. It wouldn't be. And one hand lifted, cradled gently against the back of Jacob's head, fingers threading faintly through his short, dark hair. "We managed to find each other on another world entirely. We'd find a way back to each other. Mm?"

Charles always knows what to say. He knows just what words and what tone will calm Jacob down, ease tensions before they become too much. He does it now, without thinking, without any hesitation, his fingers holding Jacob close so he can breathe in the solid reassurance that is Charles Smith.

He makes a soft noise, in mute agreement. They found each other. Somehow all of them ended up together again, and while he doesn't understand how that could have happened, he is more grateful for the fact than he can say.

"Hopefully we never have to again. Once was enough."

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test drive meme: april 2020

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