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Mods ([personal profile] modblob) wrote in [community profile] redmarsshit2020-04-27 08:43 pm
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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.



arcadedragon: (At night)

[personal profile] arcadedragon 2020-05-11 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
Did he pass a test and find the proper fork? He breathes a sigh of relief and starts to eat. "I've never been to an event with so many plates? I do not know what they're all for. Am I supposed to eat this much?"

Because he definitely can, he's basically a never ending pit, cramming in calories to power all those metal appendages. But he's not sure what he's actually supposed to do here. And it feels odd that in a place with so many different people they hadn't included some sort of instruction manual.

"The food is good, so that's a good start!" And he hasn't dropped dead yet, so that's also good.
circumspector: (( huh? ) » just so I can sing)

[personal profile] circumspector 2020-05-21 03:59 pm (UTC)(link)
With him already piling up the food, she is going to take that as an invitation to join him.

Because Angel's metabolism wasn't..... underactive. No, she begins to take plate after plate and pile up her own with all the food around her, eating and eating all that she can in more than enough to match him.

"You are not kidding." Happily said in between big swallows of food.
arcadedragon: (Young Sparrow)

[personal profile] arcadedragon 2020-05-25 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Hopefully they don't find out it's poisoned much, much later, because that would definitely ruin how much he's enjoying it now. "Where did they get so much food? I've not seen the kitchens stocked with all this."

And he's in there a lot. Cooking. Eating. Poking around. More eating.

"I am probably doing this wrong. These little plates are probably for small foods, and the bigger ones for main courses. But I still do not understand the forks."
circumspector: (( sitting ) » are you insane like me)

[personal profile] circumspector 2020-05-28 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)
She looks over at each of the plates that - why would the plate size matter, and did it really have to do anything with the forks too? Another furtive glance about them, she investigates again as discreetly as possible.

Between them, they're going to clear this section of table, that was for sure. Maybe they could use that to their advantage and disguise themselves in their appetite?

So she reaches across to take what food he indicated for each plate, and she begins to pile it up, and then places it around them, between them, where they could both reach. Then put smaller plates together to join them like embellishment to the larger ones. Until there was a little scattered of every dish, big and small, for them both.

"Now no one can say we're using the wrong fork, if we're using all the forks."
arcadedragon: (Skeptical)

[personal profile] arcadedragon 2020-06-01 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
That certainly seems like a valid loophole to him. He spreads the forks out deciding that the bigger fork is for bigger food, and the little ones are for appetizers. That seems rational.

"I have been to parties, some very formal, but they weren't set up like this. Normally someone brings the food to you. And we didn't have dozens of forks. Or any forks at all actually." Growing up rich and important he's been to plenty of events where there was some set structure and deviating from it would bring great dishonor. But this doesn't feel like that. Ir feels like it's supposed to be more casual, yet everyone is dressed up and there's fancy tablewear and silver.

"Maybe the robots who run this do not know either and are hoping we figure it out for them?"