Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
modblob) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.
no subject
She shrugs one shoulder, but she can't wipe the smirk off her face at the mental image of it.
"I wonder where he's gone. Where do the 'bots go for R and R in this place?"
no subject
"You're asking me?"
no subject
She gestures around them. Admittedly, there are people around... but no one else within earshot. Her attention follows the bar bot while it makes her drink.
"I've looked around, but I don't know where they go when they're not... doing whatever it is they do."
no subject
His carefree smile should be enough of a hint that he isn't offended.
no subject
"Yeah, dude, that's exactly why I'm asking you. Totally the reason." She props her chin on one hand and reflects his smile.
"Not because you're the only person here I'm talking to right now."
no subject
He notices one of the aforementioned bots--the bartender--at the other side of the counter, waiting with a drink in their hand. That was fast! Scaramouche takes the glass and sends them on their way with a grin. Not a merci or a thank you--just a grin.
"Didja see that? Talk about golden service."
no subject
Does she care? Not really, but there's precious little to keep her interest in this place and wondering about where bots go and what the whole place is about gives her something to think about that isn't a slowly whirling vortex of crippling despair--
Whoops.
"At least this one knows what he's doing."
no subject
Then, without prompting: "Let me tell you what I do during an intermission."
no subject
Hell, if he even has anywhere delicate to push. Something to put on the docket to ask later, perhaps.
"Sure, hit me with it."
no subject
"It's like this, babe. I go to the bar--" he walks his long, slim fingers along the counter, keeping a steady smile in place as they hone in on his cocktail; when they touch the stem, his glowing gaze slides over to Jujubug, "and I ask for a drink."
Already smiling in smug anticipation of more laughter, he takes hold of the glass again.
no subject
The laugh comes out as a puff of air - mostly because she's trying to hold it in to avoid giving him the satisfaction. She shakes her head, gives his arm a small (entirely ineffectual) shove, and goes for her own drink as well.
"You're funny."
It's a welcome change, really. She doesn't have that much to laugh about these days.
"Not even legal to drink back home, but... no one gives a shit about that kind of thing anymore, anyway."
no subject
An arch smile, then he's moving to clink the rim of his glass against hers.
no subject
Living by your own rules? Yeah, sounds like a good thing to toast to. There's little else Julie's ever done, even when it was bringing her no small measure of disapproval.
"You're alright. I guess."
no subject
In the blink of an eye, the smile is back--he's as pleased with himself as ever. He lifts his cocktail once again, swirling the contents within.