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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.



numerouno: do not take (CXXVIII)

3

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-05-25 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
The smoke is the first thing to draw his eye; then he sees the broad set of well-clad shoulders standing in front of it. Who should Scaramouche find starting a table fire but Kabal.

He joins the mercenary at his side with a chemical-blue cocktail in hand, watching the fire spread from one decadent dessert to the next.

"You going to put that out or wait and see what happens?"
kaballin: (Seriously?)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-06-19 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
Well well well, look who it is. The other sword wielding henchman with delusions of grandeur. Kabal pulls the mask down to take a swig of his drink, eyes sliding over to look at Scaramouche without turning his head.

"Nah. Doesn't seem like it's my problem anymore. Let one of them do-gooders handle it. That's what they're for after all."
numerouno: (XXII)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-06-23 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
Scaramouche turns his head, holding the mercenary's look with a curious stare of his own before bringing his attention back to the fire. The seconds tick by in silence. He can already see the flames dancing, the likeliest path they'll take, how they'll get taller and taller until they reach the roof of the tent.

Without a word, he calmly strolls down the length of the table, scoops up a pitcher, then calmly strolls back. Carefully pouring the water over the worst of the fire, each steaming hiss makes his eyes narrow a little until his frown has deepened into one of annoyance.
Edited 2020-06-23 05:55 (UTC)
kaballin: (Default)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-06-27 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
"Never knew you had it in you." He's moved onto eating some tiny appetizers on toothpicks off a plate so delicate he could crush it in his fingers with barely any effort.

"Since when are you one to do 'the right thing'?" Granted he doesn't really know Scaramouche that well, but doesn't seem like him. And whats a little property damage between friends?
numerouno: (CIV)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-07-02 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
An ember or two are all that remain after the pitcher has dripped its last drop; he flattens one with his thumb and snuffs out the other with the base of the jug.

"I do what's good for me, babe." He faces him now, glowering. "Send this shindig up in smoke and we'll be stuck with tree sap for dessert."
kaballin: (Default)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-07-08 12:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Do you even eat?" Sure he clearly has a mouth that he uses to make those horrible grins he does, but does he eat? And if he does is it like.. salads of nuts and bolts? These are the important questions that run through Kabal's internal thought processes that should never be made public.

"And I do what's fun. This place is pretty boring don't you think?"
numerouno: (CXVII)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-07-09 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
Scaramouche rests a hand at his hip.

"Where were you at the last two parties? We could have used some excitement then."

He knows exactly what the man was doing at one of them; he was helping him torture a servant bot. Scaramouche didn't even attend the other party.
Edited 2020-07-09 08:01 (UTC)
kaballin: (Seriously?)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-07-11 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
"Shoulda scheduled me in advance. I was probably booked." Yeah right, as if he had anything better to be doing than prowling around parties and being annoying. But he hadn't really wanted to eat the syrupy stuff they were pushing, and the other one he had gotten high as fuck on mushrooms and barely remembered his name. Fun times, fun times.

"If you have any suggestions on livening this one up I'm listening."
numerouno: (VII)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-07-21 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Make the band play louder or something," he flings back dismissively. "Go find a dance partner and take a load off."
kaballin: (Crossed Blades)

[personal profile] kaballin 2020-08-05 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
"Booooooring." He gives one hell of an eyeroll to accompany that.

"Since when are you on the side of restraint and rules and shit? You get killed and replaced with a clone?"
numerouno: (IV)

[personal profile] numerouno 2020-08-20 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Make your own fun if you have to, but don't go blowing a hole in mine."

With that, and a disdainful wave of his hand like he's brushing Kabal aside, Scaramouche turns his satin-spatted shoes and makes his exit.