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

YOOOOO

[desperate_times_right]

The tone of voice almost immediately makes Chloe feel better - not very likely that a guy wanting to kill her would catch her unawares like this and manage not to be smug about it - but at the same time it puts her in an awkward position. Is this an unlucky tourist? In a suit and one of those yellow sailor raincoats or whatever?

Chloe slicks her wet hair back with one hand and frowns. “Oh no, we are not doing that. You snuck up on me. Not very polite at all.”

[lestercraft]

Whatever the fabric is of for the yellow robes (now a muddy sort of brown from being waterlogged and covered in sand) it certainly doesn't fall like a rainslicker. Rather more like a curtain, or a hessian sack.

Arthur brings his own hands up to push his hair back - it's longer than it seems, trying to curl where the thinner parts are already drying - and his worried tension turns hard, annoyed. "And how do you propose I snuck up on you, miss? I just washed up here."

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe’s nostrils flare at that ʼmissʼ but on the other hand at least it's not ma’am.

“You're walking around, stripping or whatever, and I'm just standing here.”

[lestercraft]

"Oh, yes, yeah-- me clambering my way out of a goddamn cultist's robes, very fucking sneaky." Not to mention how they are - were - a very obnoxious shade. Like an evil banana, not that Arthur can appreciate it.

He flaps an arm in her general direction with a cutting motion. "What about you, running around yelling at people like you own the bloody beach."

[desperate_times_right]

“Running ar- I am literally just standing here!”

The rest of it though... There were not supposed to be cults this time.

“Why are you dressed like that, anyway?”

[lestercraft]

"Because I was infiltrating a damn cult and it went to- fucking- shit-!"

The curses come with a furious kick at the robe, which half-misses the easy fucking target, causing a sleeve to whip his ankle and make him stumble back in surprise. He lets out a harsh grunt of a breath, and shakes his sleeves out to try and loosen the wet fabric as he lifts his hands to comb his hair back, gritting his teeth as he does.

"It doesn't fucking matter now."

[desperate_times_right]

Huh. Maybe someone actually is having a worse day than her.

“You fall off a cliff too or what?”

[lestercraft]

He did that yesterday.

"I've had a rather busy few days, which I'm not particularly fond of recounting it to a fucking stranger." He starts dusting off his suit, which mostly just results in him sloughing water off it instead. "Look, just- do you know where the nearest fucking city is. Or a-a bus stop, or something. Fuck."

[desperate_times_right]

“Do I look like someone who knows where -” At this point Chloe’s only really continuing the argument because this guy gets on her nerves, which has the unfortunate effect of prolonging the conversation.

“Look. Last I knew I was pretty close to Kuantan. You might not have fun while doing it but you can probably walk there.”

[lestercraft]

There's a sharp comment on the edge of his tongue, something to the effect of 'do I look like someone who knows how to see' but he really doesn't want to give the game away any more than he has.

"Right. Fine. Which way, then?" He glares in her direction, eyes flicking across Chloe's form without ever really lingering - but then something in his expression shifts, and the frown seems more confused than annoyed. "W-wait, you said-- w-where the fuck is Kuantan?"

[desperate_times_right]

Sorry dude, she doesn't think you're blind, just kind of a loser who is bad at tantrums.

“Oh, is that how we’re gonna play it? 'I escaped a cult and washed up on a mystery beach without even knowing what part of the world I'm in?' What, were you meeting on a cruise ship? Come on, man.”

[lestercraft]

Nope, you've given him a mystery now, he's not rising to the bait. Or at least not more than his usual personality allows.

"No- well, yes but- shut up. Listen to me." And he's fervent, but not angry. "That cult I was investigating- we were in Massachusetts. America. It's fucking landlocked, how the hell could I have gotten here? It-i-it's not even the right weather to be a nearby beach, it was fall."

[desperate_times_right]

For some reason, it's the last part that gets her. “Dude, it's February.”

[lestercraft]

And his own frown deepens with his confusion. "It's Aug- wait, shit, no. It's September?" He waves his hand dismissively. "Regardless, this is- entirely unseasonal for New England."

[desperate_times_right]

“Which of us is probably wrong, between me saying this is Malaysia and you saying this is New England?”

Who knows what's wrong with this guy, but she kind of feels bad now.

“Look, I don't know exactly where I am either, there was this whole... thing with a river... But I can't be that far from where I started.”

[lestercraft]

"Perhaps neither of us. Frankly it's just as likely to be a separate location entirely." For all they know it may not even be the same realm of existence - though the fact there's a warm sun beating down suggests that whatever this place is, it doesn't match John's limited descriptions of the Dark World.

"Right now we can't assume familiarity with this place, either of us, until we have an actual landmark." He bends down to pick up his sodden robes, making a face at the sensation of sand sticking to it in great clumps. "We should- either follow the beach, until we find some sort of civilisation, or- or venture deeper inland, in hopes of the same. Both should be able to lead us to shelter of some sort, or at least a place we can create some."

[desperate_times_right]

"Listen." Chloe looks guilty now, though he can't see it there's an edge in her voice. "If we are where I think I am, there might be, like. Guys. The angry type with guns."

[lestercraft]

"And if it's where I think, they will be angry men with knives. So I hope for both our sakes we're both wrong."

He looks back in her direction, but his eyes still don't land. "So, what d'you think? Stay out in the open, where any guns would be able to readily target us? Or in the trees, where we're out of the light and immediate range?"

And he makes a gesture with one hand, a sort of 'lead the way' motion.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe isn't super confident about taking on knife guys in the jungle, but despite never having been to the States she's reasonably sure this isn't Massachusetts. She sighs dramatically - don't tell her what to do! - and heads toward the tree line.

Once again she misinterprets the way his gaze slides off her. “You don't like my shirt or something?” It's not like he's not also soaked, no need to make it weird.

[lestercraft]

He gives a dry snort. "I am hardly going to make comments about someone's outfit."

Which evidently means she hasn't clocked him yet. Somehow a part of him is quietly pleased with that, and his pride certainly demands he keep it up as long as possible.

So he'll follow the sound of her footsteps, straining to hear them as they move up to dryer sand and focusing on the sound of her clothes, her breathing as he tosses the robes over one shoulder.

"I'm Arthur, by the way." Since introductions seem to have gotten thrown to the wayside, and they're in too deep now to bother with fake names.

[desperate_times_right]

Okay, honestly, that's fair. She did see him in his stupid cult outfit.

“Chloe. You got a knife now?”

She's not really scared of him anymore but the foliage here looks like it's going to get impassable pretty quick.

[lestercraft]

He hums, exaggerated and thoughtful as he makes a show of patting his jacket and pockets down. Well, at least he finds the shape of his lighter against his chest.

"No knives, I'm afraid," he comments dryly. "I'll just have to strangle you with my bare hands like a common gutter madman."

His foot hits a root, half buried by sand, and he stumbles with a short yelp. "Shit- damn it."

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe scoffs. “I'm not afraid of you! If you were gonna kill me you'd have done it already. I meant for the fucking vines-”

But then she hears him yelp behind her and whips around, surprised. “Shit, are you okay?”

[lestercraft]

He's landed braced against a tree with one hand, the other clinging tight to his robes, and both are white-knuckled as he swallows briefly.

"I'm- I'm fine, just- didn't see a fucking root." He lifts his feet a bit more carefully, but now it's starting to be unavoidably obvious that he's really struggling. He's lifting his feet a bit too high over the uneven ground, throwing his robes over his shoulder so he can use both hands, groping awkwardly from one tree to the next with one hand and bracing the other over his face to protect from low branches.

[desperate_times_right]

Oh. Well, that answers about as many questions as it raises new ones. Probably if he's trying to go stealth for some reason it would have been better to suggest staying on the beach.

“You can ditch the robe if that makes things easier,” she says, though she's not sure if it's helpful. “All that seawater, it's fucked anyway.”