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glencolaaa2023-05-01 03:59 pm
glencolans) wrote in glencolaaa2023-05-01 03:59 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #1
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.
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"Wha-- how- w-who the fuck are you?" There's an edge of fury to it, but Martin probably recognises the tone as someone trying very hard not to be scared instead.
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He's going to just grope around in the sand for a moment, trying to find his glasses.
His hand comes up with a large knife, instead.
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He swallows, nervously, but at least Martin sounds at least as panicked as he does, and that does- well, something to help quell the tremble in his own voice. "A-Arthur. Arthur Lester. Can you--" He manages to get his own feet under him, and moves to stand, warily like he's expecting something to crown him when he does. "D-do you-- w-w-where are we?"
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Or maybe it was just the random island stranding? He's really not sure.
"I'm not sure. I'm really sorry. I-I just woke up. Um..." Martin looks around and spots a radio along with the knife. And... another radio? Walkie-talkie? "I was in London..." Sort of. Technically, the Panopticon had been in London. That's... close enough."
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Other considerations: This man is no longer speaking like he was just in a fearpocalypse. Martin moves to stand up and start dusting himself down as best he can. Everything feels awful, and he really needs to find Jon. There's also something... off about Arthur. Martin can't quite put his finger on it, yet, though.
"W-well... doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Twilight Zone...?" Let's not go with 'I popped in from a parallel universe after unleashing an eldritch horror upon this one.' That just seems... unwise.
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"I- ...what?"
Further considerations: this man predates the Twilight Zone by an odd thirty years.
"What the hell does that mean?"
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"Right..." But he focuses then, an anchor of the sound of his own voice. "Right. Alright. Yes, l-let's-- shelter, should always be the first problem solved. We can- well, we can talk as we go, work things out from there."
He's not opposed to staying in the sun, if he's being honest, it would at least dry his suit off, but the ambient weather's pleasant enough that it might happen even with the shade. The weight of the robes is horrible, though, and he grabs a fistful of fabric in his left hand (and feels rather like a lady fanning one's skirts) so he can stumble up the sand - or at the very least, away from the water, which is a hazardous endeavour when he has no idea where the trees fucking are.
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"I'm..." He lets out a short, resigned huff. "As it happens, I am-- blind. So, so any help would be... appreciated."
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"O-oh! Oh, gosh! Okay." He doesn't... really want to touch a stranger. Or have a stranger touch him, but there's not a whole lot to do about it. Martin grimaces, but his voice is unchanged. "If I keep my hand on your sleeve, is that enough to direct you?"
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"I'd-- if at all possible, I-I prefer not to be touched, actually. Just- if you can tell me if I'm about to smack my head into something, I'll probably be fine just- following your voice. I'll stay beside you." And even that much of a concession is some level of frustration, but. He'll have to live with that, won't he.
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Martin will start walking slowly toward the trees, checking on the other man as he goes. "Once we get to the trees, I can get you a stick. If a- s-sorry. If a stick would help? For feeling things out, I mean. Um... we're on what looks like an island, by the way. We just woke up on the beach and it a sort of... tropical-looking jungle thing ahead."
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Stop, for fuck's sake. Focus. He's clearly been abandoned, so he has to make the best of it. At least he has his hand back.
"A stick- a-a cane of some sort, that would be- extremely useful, yes." He walks confidently enough, but as the sand starts getting grittier with leaf litter his steps become more hesitation, and his arms come up to try and find something to brace against - like watching someone grope around in complete darkness.
He manages to find a tree trunk without hurting himself, and pauses briefly. "Wait, tropical?"
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"Uh... we're nearly there. Nothing in front of you. Apart from the trees, I mean, but we're maybe... 20 meters away? I can let you know when you're getting really close?"
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Twenty metres is so vague - he doesn't know how long his own bloody pace is, let alone which direction Martin is referring to properly and he has to just go with it. It's not a matter of blind faith, he's got plenty of that; it's just a nuisance.
"And you're from London, how- have you ever even seen the tropics in your life?"
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He takes a breath to get himself under control. They're both worked up, and he wants Jon. It would be so much easier if he just knew the other man was safe.
"And all of this is unusual. I can't really do much immediately about it, though. We've both just washed up from the ocean. I'm hot and I'm thirsty. My biggest concerns right now are finding my boyfriend and getting us some water we can actually drink. I'll worry about the how along the way, but there's no point running ourselves in mental circles when we haven't got much of any information to work with."