TDM #1

[glencolans]

TEST DRIVE MEME #1

Welcome to Glencola Reef's first 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. EXPLORING

For a place that appears, by all signs, to be an equatorial island in the middle of a tropical ocean, the local environments are surprisingly diverse. Beaches range from idyllic white sand to storm-swept pebble crags to cliffs with waterfalls cascading off the edges; the interior forests can be thinned from sandy soil or dense jungles full of prickly underbrush and with towering canopies; and the central mountain peaks, perilous enough to climb on their own, terminate in ravines and sinkholes that are hidden by thick foliage until you already have one foot over the edge.

The animals that make their homes here are equally as varied, and sometimes just as dangerous. The standard Earth fare of tropical fish swim right up to most shores, especially where reefs have grown, and a multitude of seafaring and jungle birds make their homes in ocean-facing cliffs and trees. Any one of these creatures would make for an easy snack. But you're not the only opportunistic hunters here; sharks prowl the waters, big cats stalk the jungles, and feral boars raid any camps that smell enticing. And that's just the stuff that looks like it came from modern Earth. Your improvised fishing rod might have captured a trilobite, or maybe that deer you were stalking has rounded on you with a set of alien mandibles full of sharp teeth. Or maybe, among the plants and animals completely foreign to you, you've stumbled across one that's strangely familiar to your home and no one else's.

There's a lot to figure out about this place. At least, in this instance, you aren't doing it alone.

NAVIGATION

Comments

Excalibur Umbra | Warframe

[excal_umbra]

i. arrival

A monster washes up on the beach.

At least, it looks like a monster. Horned and gray, its dreadful bulk incongruously decorated with delicate golden trim, it might be easy to mistake for some grotesque work of sculpture. It doesn't move, for one thing—at least not for several long minutes.

'We accept this memory and move beyond its reach.' The child's voice still rings in its ears. For a few precious moments, the monster had known peace. It had known gentleness—

And now, it is alone again.

Unsteadily, its bulk rises from the sand. It feels weak; its body is heavier than it has ever known and its mind is in disarray. A low rumble sounds from its throat, muffled and confused. Where is the child? The Tenno? The one the glassy voice called the Operator? He needs to find them again, needs to get back to that peace, that acceptance. But where are they? Where is he? He takes in his surroundings without comprehension, the tropical waters stirring no memory within him—not that he has many to stir, in the first place.

He stays like that, stock-still and staring, until someone approaches. Someone who is not the child.

This time, the growl in his throat is much more clearly a warning.

ii. network

[ Callsign: UM8RA.]

DFJG

AIDGF DDD

AAAAAAAA

[ There's a pause. A burst of static.

And then what is very clearly a growl of frustration.

Guess who has neither used technology nor expressed himself with words for the last few centuries? ]

Network | Callsign VL121R

[meadqueen]

Are you having trouble? It's all right.

[This isn't the first person that she's heard growling at one of these devices. She had struggled as well in the beginning, and the others here can get so angry when you don't know how to use it correctly]

It isn't as complicated as it seems at first.

[excal_umbra]

[ Easy for her to say. She has a mouth. And, presumably, at least memories of using a similar writing system. Umbra knows how to read and spell, but the memories of actually using any such technology or even paper and pencil have long since been lost to him.

He tries again. ]

WIDR

WH

ERR

E

[ Well. That's almost a word if you squint. Hopefully, she'll be able to make sense of it. ]

[meadqueen]

[It is easy for her to say! It took her 20 minutes to even figure out that you need to hold down the talk button.

Also this may be the one circumstance where the radio having to translate everything into runes actually helps]

Where are we? No one seems to know yet. Far from home, surely.

Are you hurt?

[excal_umbra]

[ There is silence on Umbra's end for several minutes—not because he's upset or confused, but rather because it is something of a revelation for him to have communicated successfully with someone, and he needs a few moments to absorb it. To have asked a question and received an answer—that is not something he had the means nor mental clarity to do for centuries now.

When he takes to the transceiver again, it's with significantly more determination. ]

DN

DO

N

NT

KKN

OW

[ He hasn't sustained any injuries, but something is very definitely wrong with him. He feels weak and slow, senses dulled. It had been easy to dismiss as post-unconsciousness grogginess at first, but now it is evident that this isn't something that fades with time. ]

S

SI

C

JK

[ Sick. No disease but the Helminth strain has been able to touch him for lifetimes now, but it's the only way he knows to explain what he feels. ]

[meadqueen]

Sick? You're ill?

If it's a new sickness, it may be from the heat of the sun here. If you go into the trees, the shade will protect you, and you can find fresh water.

Can you tell me your name?

[excal_umbra]

[ He's dubious as to her explanation. He hasn't needed food nor water for a very long time now, nor should mere sunlight be enough to weaken him. Still, he has no alternative explanation to offer and so, after a moment, he reluctantly moves towards the treeline. Only once he's in the shade does he respond to her query.

He is even more careful this time. The precious abilities to reason and communicate have only just been restored to him and this answer would perhaps be the easiest to fumble. He inputs one letter at a time, just to be sure. ]

U
M
B
R
A

[ A pause and then: ]

Y
O
U

[ He doesn't know how to express it as a question, but—he wants to know her name as well. ]

[meadqueen]

Umbra. I hope I'm saying it correctly.

[She thinks it's Latin, but doesn't know as much as she probably should of the Saxons’ god language]

It feels strange to say 'well met' under these circumstances, but I'm glad to be hearing from you. My name is Randvi.

network | callsign: HO125E

[trialbyliar]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA
..・ヾ(。＞＜)シ

[excal_umbra]

[ ...What in the Void is that second part supposed to be? ]

WG

A8

8888

[trialbyliar]

999
abcdefg

[He's having fun.]

network (cs: L0N31Y | voice)

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Martin winces at the bursts of static as each message come in.]

So... if you want to talk, you need to keep the button pressed down. And when you're finished, you can let go. Oh, and sometimes you can say 'over'! Over...

[excal_umbra]

[ ...That's not going to work. Not because Umbra can't figure out how to hold down a button, but because he can't say anything.

He demonstrates this by holding down the button—and remaining conspicuously silent. The only sound broadcast is the slow roll of waves behind him and the rustle of wind through foliage. ]

[lonelynotforsaken]

[Oh, Martin does not like that. He's dealing with the soft crashing of waves and being alone and Jon being gone poorly enough as it is. He takes a slow, deep breath to avoid snapping at whoever this is to send an actual message. He doesn't need 'deserted seashore in stereo.' He tries to keep any irritation out of his voice, forcing a perkiness he doesn't feel.]

If you can't talk, can you type something, instead? I know it might be hard, but you can go slowly. There are little letters above the numbers on this radio. You can use those, and I'll talk to you.

[excal_umbra]

[ Fortunately, by the time Umbra responds, he's had a little practice with Randvi, so he is able to type a reply, albeit slowly. Even then, his typing accuracy leaves a little to be desired. ]

WH
ERRE

IS

T
E
N
N
O

[ That last word, he inputs one letter at a time, the better to avoid any mistakes—a sign of its importance, perhaps. ]

[lonelynotforsaken]

Tenno... I-I don't know. Is that a... person? A place?

[excal_umbra]

CH
IILD

[ Except they were more than that. So much more than that. ]

H
O
L
Y

[lonelynotforsaken]

O-oh! Oh, gosh! Um... no. I haven't seen any kids around. Okay. That- If they're here, they'll probably be interested in the radio, right? Kids are always curious. So, they might see your message? What's your name? I'm Martin.

arrival

[salamanca]

Lalo's stop is abrupt and sudden at the sound of the growl, a low rumbling sound that awakens some primal animal instinct inside of him. To fight. Or to freeze in place, hands up.

Which is what he does. His hands go up to the sides of his head, palms out, and he even takes a few big steps back. "Easy. Easy," he cajoles, uncertain if this thing can even understand him. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

He's especially vulnerable now, Lalo realizes, wearing only his pants and an undershirt while his boots and the rest of his clothing dry in the sun. He does have his gun, tucked into the waistband of his pants, but he doesn't reach for it, choosing instead to try to pacify this... creature? Animal?

For as dire as his situation is, he's remarkably calm. His posture is still. His voice is gentle and soothing.

[excal_umbra]

The human stops in his approach, which is what the growl was meant to achieve in the first place. Still, Umbra is ill at ease. In the brief time between his escape from Lua and Ballas catching up to him, he had avoided interaction with sapient beings as much as he could. To his grief-addled mind, it had made sense: the centuries spent as Ballas’s prisoner had only taught him that interaction was inevitably one-sided and a source of further anguish and pain. There was also the risk of them leading Ballas to him, even if they didn’t attack him directly themselves.

Even so, he doesn’t flee now. Nor does he default to violence. His encounter with the Tenno has cleared his mind, has lifted him up from those base animal instincts. He has enough of his mind to reason now—even if he can’t communicate.

He’s further encouraged by the way the man speaks, calm and gentle in cadence. It reminds Umbra of the Tenno, the way they had spoken to him inside his mind. It’s enough to draw him a few wary steps closer, the growl in his throat quieting. Who is this man? Why is he here when the Tenno is not? And, perhaps most importantly: how can Umbra even begin to ask those questions with no way to speak?

As it turns out, he doesn’t make it that far. He’s only taken a few paces towards the man when he notices the gun at his side. The growl starts up again, this time angrier.

Is this a trap?

[salamanca]

At first, the growl quiets, and Lalo can't help but feel a wave of relief sweep over him. He still doesn't know what this...thing? Creature? Animal?...which for him is a frustrating rarity. He is used to having, or easily getting, all the information he needs to come out on top.

But he doesn't have that right now. He has no idea what he's looking at, and no immediate way to find out.

It doesn't speak, but it does respond to his speech. Lalo continues speaking to it, at first, trying to keep it calm. "Yeah, see? Good, good. We can be friends, eh? I'd like to be your friend."

The creature moves towards him. Lalo lets it approach. Lalo, himself, does not move, either to step closer or to move away, sensing that it might be best to let the...animal? Monster?...approach on its own terms.

Then the growling starts. Angrier, this time, and his stomach clenches. At first he's not sure what the problem could be, or what he could have done to re-ignite the creature's wrath. He hasn't moved. His hands are still up. "Hey, hey, hey. Stay calm. Staaaay calm." Lalo does his best to take his own advice. He hasn't yet made the connection to his gun being the source of the upset.

[excal_umbra]

There is no hostility in the man's words or tone, but still Umbra is on-edge. Even without his memories of torture and imprisonment, the facts are that he's woken up in an unfamiliar place just to be coaxed closer by a man with a gun. He wants answers—and the fact that he doesn't have any way to get them only frustrates him further.

He feels old instincts begin to stir. This isn't working; he won't be caught, won't be forced into a cage again. He wants to lunge for the man, to render him incapable of harm or pursuit by force, just like he'd tried to do with the Tenno—

—the Tenno who had only been trying to help him the whole time. His head twitches sharply to the side. He is not an animal. He will not prove Ballas right by continuing to act like one.

It feels unnatural; Umbra has not had the means or cause to communicate for centuries. Yet, he makes an attempt now, pointing forcefully to the gun at the man's side—and then at the sand. He wants him to put it down.

[salamanca]

Lalo's eyes follow the forceful gesture towards his own gun. This thing is sentient enough for that? Lalo is quietly stunned. He could tell it was responding to his words, or at least his tone, but he hadn't realized it was this advanced. He understands what it wants now.

Does he comply? He contemplates shooting it instead, but that seems like asking to be mauled today. He has no idea how fast this thing is, or how many bullets it would take to put it out of commission.

It infuriates him, to have to give up his only protection when he's already so vulnerable, but Lalo does it anyway. "You got it," he says, nodding. He reaches into the waistband of his pants, movements slow. He takes the gun and gently, slowly, lays it on the sand. He takes a step or two back. Still slowly. No sudden movements.

"Good?" he asks it. He can't remember the last time he's ever felt this... this... helpless. A feeling of self-disgust wells up inside of him. His chest expands slowly, in and out, while he watches the creature, trying to assess what it's going to do next.

[excal_umbra]

It is with no small amount of surprise that Umbra watches the man do as he'd asked. Part of it is simple cynicism; he had expected the man to protest, perhaps even to threaten or attack him with the weapon. The other part is simple shock that he'd been understood. Maybe it should've been expected from such straightforward gestures, but Umbra, who has not even had that much for so many years, doesn't take such things for granted.

The growling cuts out entirely now, some of the tension in Umbra's shoulders relaxing. He makes a conscious effort now to keep his hands open at his sides—trying, although it is difficult between his imposing size and uncanny, faceless helm, to appear non-threatening as he approaches the man.

Without the ability to easily ask questions, Umbra first sees what he can learn just from a closer look at the stranger. He is not Ostron, judging by his complexion and height, and that alone is strange. Is this not Earth, or at least one of the rare untainted portions of it? If it is, he must be an outworlder, though without any visible implants or uniform, it's impossible to say his rank or planet of origin. Certainly, he is no Orokin.

Umbra's throat itches. He wants to speak, he realizes, and perhaps that is just an effect of facing a human being after so long, stirring some buried memory of what he himself used to be. He used to be a man, too. He used to be able to talk like one. There's a low rumble in his chest, quiet and halting, as Umbra tries to remember what it was like to speak.

Of course, the resulting sound isn't anything close to coherent. Just more animal noises, though not loud nor aggressive enough to be a growl this time. He cuts off, frustrated. What does he want to ask? What can he ask without words? Umbra is still for a moment, thinking...

Then, he slowly raises a hand and points at the stranger. Lifts that one finger to indicate them number one. A tilt of the head makes it a question.

Is he alone here?

[salamanca]

The growling cutting out causes that now-familiar whoosh of relief to flood through Lalo. Just slightly, his body droops a little in relaxation. He's clearly out of his depth here, even more than he realized at first. That's, again, still frustrating for him. He's not used to being at another living thing's mercy the way he's at this creature's mercy now.

But he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. The hands open at the sides, too, signal enough to be understood -- Lalo interprets it as 'I won't hurt you.'

It -- he? She? -- makes noises, but the rumbling isn't threatening this time. It sounds like it's trying to... to talk? Lalo is less stunned this time. Relatively speaking, anyway. To some extent, he's still shocked by this creature's -- person's? -- entire appearance or existence.

The lifted finger. The tilted head. Lalo feels like he knows what it's trying to ask.

"Just me," he says. "Nobody else with me. I'm alone." He holds up one finger of his own, and then he nods, to drive the point home.

He gets an idea. Moving slowly so as not to spook this animal, or creature, or person, or whatever it-- he?-- is, Lalo eventually lowers the finger to place a hand lightly on his chest. "Lalo," he says, indicating himself, hoping that will make it clear enough. 'My name is Lalo.' Of course, he has no way to ask this creature's name.