glencolans: (Default)
Glencola Reef Mod Account ([personal profile] glencolans) wrote in [community profile] glencolaaa2023-08-01 08:06 am
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TDM #2


TEST DRIVE MEME #2


Welcome to Glencola Reef's second Test Drive Meme! This is a place where anyone interested in applying a character - or just curious to see how their characters might interact with the setting and others in the game - can mingle with one another. General prompts are provided below for inspiration.

TDM GUIDELINES

  • Please read the rules before posting to the TDM. These still apply here and will be enforced, up to and including deleting tags/toplevels and prebanning.
  • Posts from a TDM are required to apply. At least three tags across any number of threads within a TDM, posted within the last 6 months, must be provided in every application.
  • TDM threads can be used for AC. Note that new characters only need to check in for their first AC cycle, but established characters can use TDM tags for their AC.
  • TDMs are not considered game canon by default. This is mostly for logistics reasons - due to how characters travel on the map, it's unlikely that non-network threads that take place here will actually happen in-game. However, I won't stop anyone from working out how to make parts of threads game canon if they really want to.
  • New TDMs will be posted every three months. Keep checking back into the current TDM for new toplevels!

I. ARRIVAL

You awaken on a tropical island beach, soaking wet, powerless, and without any idea how you got here. Were you carrying something important, or wearing powerful armor? How unfortunate - it looks like only the most basic clothes, items in your pockets, and simple weapons managed to make the trip with you. Are you even physically the same as you remember? If you had superhuman abilities tied to your physiology, you might be stuck in a completely different body that lacks your usual senses. You might've been whisked away from a tense battle or a near-death experience and wake up delirious, or even injured.

Thankfully, against overwhelming odds, you're not the only one to wake up on this particular stretch of beach. You and your companion have a lot of puzzling out to do.

II. NETWORK

Even if you weren't lucky enough to wake up near someone else, at least you've arrived with a military-grade radio transceiver gripped tightly in your hand (or mouth, or other vaguely opposable appendage of choice). The clunky walkie-talkie will start buzzing and crackling for every public message that starts coming your way. Answering them back is as easy as pressing the "talk" button on the side of the device and either speaking into the receiver, or using the keypad to type into the message box that appears on the screen, then pressing the button again to send. A list of ongoing conversations with responses that are less than 24 hours old can be found by scrolling through the menu, identified by the callsigns that are participating in them. It seems that you've been assigned a callsign, too - it shows up in the top right side of the screen, format AB123C. The letters and numbers picked are...probably random.

This is your easiest avenue to communicating, or coordinating with, or complaining at the other people stuck on this island; how you decide to use this tool is up to you.

III. A SAFE PLACE

Whether because someone else directed you via the transceivers, or someone found you and is leading you there, or just out of sheer luck, you have stumbled your way up the western coastline and run into an abandoned airfield. At least it used to be abandoned; there are obvious signs that the area has seen recent use, from the myriad of footprints in the sand leading up to the ocean, to the racks of drying fish lined along the shattered asphalt of a runway, to the strangely complex water stills and...who even knows what chemicals are brewing in those pots next to the largest airplane hangar? Even if you find the signs of people first, you're likely to run into the inhabitants themselves sooner rather than later, as the airfield has become a surprisingly busy hub of activity in comparison to the bleak isolation of the rest of the island. Maybe some of the more experienced inhabitants will help you figure out what's going on here, or try to rope you into exploring or cleaning out the more run-down buildings lining the runway, like the smaller hangars or the desolate traffic control tower at the far end. You likely aren't the only new person trying to find your way around, either. Hopefully the person you arrived with is more interested in helping rather than just looting the place and running off.

IV. STRANGE BOUNTIES

The weather on this island can be rather unpredictable sometimes. Just yesterday it was sunny and hot, then today, without warning, the sky opened up - literally, like the pale blue horizon was a vase smashed by a hammer and a billowing cyclone poured through the hole - and dumped at least a foot of rain on you in the span of an hour. You just barely managed to avoid getting swept out to sea, hunkering down in the relative safety of the deeper jungle, when the storm stopped as suddenly as it started. Dazed and possibly hurt, you stumble back to the beach to get a look at the sky--

--And find the beach absolutely covered in heaps of beach peas. There are so many that you can't even see the sand underfoot, and more of the pods are still washing up with the swollen tide. A flurry of very confused seagulls are already picking at the pile of legumes, but you should be quick about getting your own share - other captives are likely to show up soon, too, and they probably have much deeper pockets and appetites than the birds.

V. HOSTILE STRANGERS

As others have had the misfortune of discovering first-hand, there are entities on the island that have been here for much longer than the active group on the transceivers has been, and they aren't necessarily friendly. One in particular guards their territory fiercely from intruders - or maybe they just enjoy toying with those that wander within their reach. For those exploring the dense jungles in the northeast, this individual's motivations are probably the last things on your mind when you encounter them personally. Minding your own business, by yourself or traveling with others like you, noting the odd lack of animal calls in an otherwise vibrant jungle, suddenly there's the faint whistling noise of a crossbow bolt hissing through the air on a collision course for your vitals. You might consider yourself lucky if you stumble into one of their expertly-hidden rope traps instead and end up dangling by your ankle ten feet in the air. Hopefully, if you are currently traveling alone, someone will find you quickly enough to keep you from being killed outright by this hidden assailant.


NAVIGATION


clowngirl: (♥ Lovely Me)

Harley Quinn | DC

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-02 06:25 am (UTC)(link)
II. Network

[An obnoxious buzz and crackle comes over the radio at an obnoxious time of night followed by the obnoxious voice of someone who is having trouble sleeping.]

Hey! What'd the jungle bird say when the cat challenged him to cards?



V. Hostile Strangers

It's a lovely day for a stroll through a mystery jungle. Why not? Harley isn't equipped with a machete and a pith hat like she feels Bugs Bunny would be in such a situation, but she's pretty sure she can figure it out. The sun is shining, her clothes have dried, and it's time to mentally map out New Harley Island.

She's whistling out the intro of what she's hoping will become a kickass national anthem of this seemingly deserted place when the whizz of a crossbow bolt over her shoulder makes her suddenly rethink her self-appointed rule.

She instantly breaks into a sprint and takes cover behind a tree, the next bolt landing on the other side of it.

"Hey! Okay! I take requests!" She calls out, but receives no answer. Tough crowd. She very carefully peers out just enough to try and catch a glance of her attacker. No luck. Just the foliage enveloping everything around her. "If you're that purple lady from Gotham, I can totally explain the parole violation!"

She can't, but she is trying to gauge when to make another run for it.
trialbyliar: (pic#14957366)

network | HO125E

[personal profile] trialbyliar 2023-08-02 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
[The voice that responds is young-sounding but just as obnoxious.]

Why's a bird playing card games with a cat in the first place? Wouldn't the cat just eat it?
clowngirl: (♥ Hey now)

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-02 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
That's not-- You-- [She huffs.] Sometimes opposites just attract, okay, kid?
trialbyliar: (pic#14957358)

[personal profile] trialbyliar 2023-08-02 12:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Woah, so you're saying they're on a date? Scandalous!

[He snickers and it's still obnoxious.]
somethingintangible: (pic#16507324)

network

[personal profile] somethingintangible 2023-08-02 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Have another annoying teen, Harley. Sorry. ]

...What?

[ It's only one word, but you can hear the disdainful, teenage, looking-down-her-nose attitude in her voice. ]
Edited 2023-08-02 16:30 (UTC)
clowngirl: (♥ Awesomesauce)

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-02 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
You may be a cheetah but toucan play at that game!

[She's trying not to let the youths get her down but ouch, guys.]

Don't clap too hard, you'll hurt yourself. I'll be here all night! [That can be a threat if it has to be. She's got enough corny jokes to last.]
clowngirl: (♥ Waitaminute)

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-02 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, okay, they're not but they could be if they wanted! [Her set-up has fallen apart and been set on fire.] And it's not that scandalous. Maybe the cat got outta a bad relationship and is tryin' to get her life on a better track by bein' with a nice, sweet toucan.
ichoosefight: (time flies doesn't it)

ii

[personal profile] ichoosefight 2023-08-03 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Wait, what?

Steph is on her way to check on one of their emergency supply stops when she hears 'purple lady from Gotham' in the distance and has to take a solid 30 seconds to process what's happening and decide the person probably isn't talking to her.

"Hello?" she calls out, a little louder than the voice she heard. She has her makeshift staff at the ready just in case, but the voice at least didn't seem hostile.
clowngirl: (♥ Pout)

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-03 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"Huntress?!" Harley responds to the female voice, a bit incredulous that she might have gotten it right on the first try. She's rolling with it either way. "You were always my favorite bow... shooter... person! Way better than Green Arrow! Or Red Arrow! Or, uhhh, Girl Arrow... Arrow Lad..." She's starting to creep her way out from behind the tree, hoping that she's distracting the crossbowman. Unfortunately, she doesn't yet realize she isn't speaking to that person, and all the yelling is just alerting them to their location. The bolts begin to fly again, and with an eep! she's scrambling as fast as she can in search of further cover.
obeir: (269)

Network | KD201D

[personal profile] obeir 2023-08-04 07:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ Between the worries that have been plaguing K and a growing sense of homesickness, sleep isn't coming easily for him either. Which turns into an incredible stroke of luck when he's awake to hear a familiar voice breaking the silence. ]

Harley?

[ Normally he'd play right along and set up the punchline for her, but instead she's greeted by that startled exclamation. ]

You're really here?
clowngirl: (♥ Thinky)

[personal profile] clowngirl 2023-08-04 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Baby? [If she sounds a little bit disappointed, it's only because:] If I knew you were listenin' I woulda opened with a much better joke than that!

You want me to take it from the top or skip to the declarations of love and affection?

[She's had the luxury of having seen him not too long before waking up on a island, so while she missed him, she's mostly just happy they're "still" together.]
somethingintangible: (pic#16507830)

[personal profile] somethingintangible 2023-08-04 03:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Several minutes pass. Then, in that same snottastic voice: ]

I don't get it.
ichoosefight: (runaway)

[personal profile] ichoosefight 2023-08-04 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Huntress... Crossbow. The cabin. Steph is moving before she even finishes that thought, dropping all her gear but her staff and running full tilt in the direction the voice came from. She'd been too far to hear the shots before, but she knew she was passing near the cabin today. Its beligerent owner must be farther out than usual.

"I'm not the archer!" she shouts, looking to be a distraction herself. "Stay quiet and follow my voice! There might be traps around, and he will kill you!"
obeir: (009)

[personal profile] obeir 2023-08-05 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ It really is Harley. Acting... absolutely normal. That realisation fills him with a strange combination of relief and dread, knowing she's now stranded on the island too, but also finding comfort in no longer having to wonder if she'll think he abandoned her. Hopefully she knows him better than to ever think he'd do that, anyway, but he also knows from experience how insidious insecurities can be.

Relief is plain in his voice. ]
One minute we're going to bed in Gotham and the next I'm waking up on a beach in another world. That was a few days ago, for me. How long've you been here? [ He's already anticipating time discrepancies since that seems to be the standard when it comes to multiversal travel.

Oh, and the joke. Taking his cue from her behaviour, he decides to just roll with it. Playfully: ]
I want both. Don't leave me in suspense. What did the jungle bird say?
cycled: ( by gagazet ) (pic#16548578)

yuna | final fantasy x

[personal profile] cycled 2023-08-05 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
I. ARRIVAL
( the first thing she sees is the sky. familiar enough, even as her confusion grows with the recognition of being wet, wind gentle against her bare arms as she struggles to sit up. had she taken a dip and fallen asleep afterwards...? no. she remembered -

she'd been in bed, trying to let the heavy weight of an unknowable future drag her into a fitful rest. )


A dream?

( she says more to herself, although this is nothing like any vision or dream she's had before. everything's so tangible - she grabs a fistful of sand because she can, frowning down at it until there's movement in the corner of her eye.

immediately: )


Hello!

( with no thought to a possible threat - what threat could there be now, with Sin gone? - she scrambles to her feet, sand experiment forgotten as she waves to the distant figure. )

I'm so sorry to disturb you, but would you mind telling me where we are?

II. NETWORK
( sender is evidently not used to a call or texting system: )

Talk? This - strange. I wond - doing - thing? Fun!

( a few seconds later, )

yuna yuna yuna yuna yuna
can figure this out!
1797: mm 👓🚫 neutral, think (casual#16815579)

i;

[personal profile] 1797 2023-08-05 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
[How far inland does he have to go before the river water turns from brackish to fresh? He's quick to turn from pondering laundry (yes...he is really thinking about laundry) at Yuna's voice. He drops his hands from his hips, only to cup them around his mouth so he can holler back:]

An island!

[Wow, so helpful.]
meadqueen: (Default)

ii. VL121R | voice

[personal profile] meadqueen 2023-08-05 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
You have to hold down the raised part on the side the entire time you're speaking if you wish for it to hear you.

[It had taken Randvi a while to figure it out too, though at least this person sounds like she's having more fun with it]

Is that your name? Yuna?
desperate_times_right: (Default)

II. AP251C | voice

[personal profile] desperate_times_right 2023-08-05 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't have hands"?
cycled: ( by gagazet ) (pic#16548583)

[personal profile] cycled 2023-08-07 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
( maybe he can see her faltering even from their distance apart, a slight head tilt and furrowed brows so deep that he can probably see the unintentional >:?. )

Does... ( ah right. she raises her voice. ) Does this island have a name?!
cycled: ( by faythscar ) (pic#16548581)

[personal profile] cycled 2023-08-07 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
( not heard: Yuna's surprised yelp at a disembodied voice coming through the walkie, resulting in a slight fumble before she picks up the device again and examines the raised part in question.

meekly, )


...yes.

( she tries to hold as gently as she can in case the voice is emanating from the mechanism itself, although it somehow doesn't seem likely. she can't quite sense a soul or anything... )

I'm sorry. I didn't know anybody would be listening. I think I might be - lost?
meadqueen: (Outside)

[personal profile] meadqueen 2023-08-07 04:01 am (UTC)(link)
It's all right. There are enough of us here in a similar condition that we are used to receiving such messages.

My name is Randvi. Have you just arrived?
1797: mm 👓 neutral (casual#16753196)

[personal profile] 1797 2023-08-07 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
...Probably!

[Maybe they should be closer together for this conversation.

There is no way to avoid making this look dumb as fuck, but he sighs and sets off at a jog on the beach. His school boots were not made for this life.]
rosarianoath: <user name=messala> (but i could have done with them this wee)

Clive Rosfield | Final Fantasy XVI

[personal profile] rosarianoath 2023-08-09 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
I.
It’s dusk when the man unconscious in the surf is roused from his sleep. He doesn’t get up. He just lays there, the water thoroughly soaked into his dark leathers and red tunic, sand plastered to the back of his wet dark hair. He blinks sluggishly up at the sky, then closes his eyes with a long exhale. Every breath is deep, exhausted.

It’s going to be over any moment now. He will be dead, at peace.


III.
Theft is dishonorable, even for someone of his reputation, but the ache in his stomach is becoming as impossible to ignore as his own exhaustion, and the dried fish on display is almost enough to tempt him. Still, even with a persistent rumbling in his guts, caution must be exercised. These people are strange, their architecture alien, their smells and cracked stone foreboding. If he is to eat, he should ascertain the danger first.

So Clive skirts the biggest buildings, keeping to the shadows. He moves quietly despite his size, a hand open and ready to reach for a blade.

If there are people here after all, he is certain they are hostile. Who likes an intruder on their camp, no matter their need or intention?


V.
Clive swings, one ankle ensnared in the rope bearing him high above the ground, his other knee bent like the hanged man. It takes him a second to reorient himself and then he looks up at his ankle. In lighter garb, he might have slipped free of his boot entirely, but the rope is snagged between the plates of light armour. His heavy cloak hangs down like a sheet, hood ballooning behind his head, cutting his line of sight by half. He growls in frustration and sets to unclipping it, if only to spare himself the weight as the blood slowly sinks to his head. He attempts to curl himself up at the waist, but gravity is too strong, it seems.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself, sagging back down, feeling very much like an antelope carcass set to bleed out.

Gav would be disappointed in him.

Edited (formatting) 2023-08-09 02:22 (UTC)
meadqueen: (Default)

III.

[personal profile] meadqueen 2023-08-09 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
In a place with these utilitarian metal buildings and imposing towers, it might seem a bit incongruous to run into a domestic scene, but here it is anyway. Clive spots a small, sturdily-built woman carrying a stack of folded - clean, but dingy with age - white comforters toward one of the hangars. Her upper half is mostly obscured by linens, but a bundle of strange items hang from her belt, secured by a transparent twine: a red plastic pail full of what look like pods of peas, a radio - like the one he woke up with except bright blue and emblazoned with the image of a palm tree - a blue water bottle (considering that all of her visible clothing aside from the brown leather boots is blue one can hazard a guess at colour preference) and perhaps more alarmingly, an ornate war hammer.

She hasn't noticed him yet and doesn't seem to be on her guard, so it's up to him what happens next.
aluminumandash: (where fat is eaten by itself)

V

[personal profile] aluminumandash 2023-08-09 03:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Rust hears it, not far off: the rustle of leaves, what might've been a snap. He backtracks a few paces and presses himself to a tree trunk, listening for groans, hisses, anything. If this is what he thinks, if it's a person, they have about ten minutes and they won't see it coming.

He lets out a whistle—a low whoop. Not a match for any particular bird, but nothing like the sheer sound of an arrow in flight.

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