test drive meme # 35

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open August 25th, and apps are open September 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

Two quick points here as well:

1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: GET YOUR RED CAPE READY
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

And they sure are big boys. Big and easily angered and ready to run right over you. This time, the Door has brought in Brontos, from the video game Dragon Age.

Brontos are large oxen-like beasts, though more sure-footed due to spending all their time in caves underground. There are domesticated brontos, bred to haul and be ridden and eaten... but these aren't those. These brontos are wild, one and all, and they are skittish and large and perfectly capable of running you over. Maybe just keep your distance.]

SCENARIO TWO: DESERTED
[You're alone. Completely alone, as far as you can tell. Nothing here works - oh, there's food in the stores, sure, but the water's not running, the electricity isn't working. There's not a soul on the streets, where you would normally expect to see at least a few people here and there.

So what will you do? Smash windows and grab food from the stores? (Well, the doors are all unlocked, but hey, who doesn't love smashing windows.) Shout in the streets in hopes someone will hear? Curl into a ball and cry? All valid choices. But then, what will you do when you do find someone, after thinking you were all alone? Someone you like, someone you hate, a complete stranger?

This is a mini version of our Deserted event this month.]

S O R R O W

SCENARIO THREE: ONE MORE CHANCE
[You can't stop thinking about the one who got away. They've been on your mind - well, it feels like forever, but maybe it's only been a few days. A few hours. But you can't stop thinking about them and regretting what could have been.

Maybe it's a failed romance. Maybe a broken friendship. Maybe a family member who walked away - or who you walked away from. Even a business partner who things ended poorly with. Whatever it was, you regret how things went down. If only you had another chance, a chance to fix things!

And then, there they are. The person you've been thinking of. What will you do? Beg forgiveness? Make amends? Run away? Make your decision and take action, because as soon as you do it you might realize it was never that person at all. You might have just poured out your heart and begged forgiveness from a complete stranger.]

Comments

DiMA | Fallout

[offloaded]

fear; get your red cape ready

[ DiMA had been doing an offload when the shift occurred. He never quite enters a state you could call sleep, but he does tend to close his eyes when he partitions his mind, chooses which data to send to the memory bank and lets it go. And a century isn't long enough to grow accustomed to that feeling, the way the remaining information can't close around the gaps. A human mind would probably fill them in somehow, even if the connections were just their imagination -- but for DiMA things are just missing, and that's something he has to accept. He assigns each offloaded memory an identifier and prepares to disconnect himself.

Except when he opens his eyes again, he is not in Acadia. He's still hooked up to the guts of his memory bank, but the wires lead to a bare unit sitting on the ground, not housed in the wall with the others. That's... disconcerting. Where is he? How did he get here? Did he somehow offload the explanation? DiMA lifts his head to take in his new surroundings, and is only progressively more confused with each detail he takes in. An open arena, but seemingly abandoned. Unconscious strangers coming to all around him. Huge, angry looking creatures pawing at the ground like they're preparing for a trampling. DiMA is no stranger to threatening mutant life forms, so it's that which has him worried with the most immediacy. His instinct otherwise would be to check on the others and double check he didn't accidentally offload a memory of where they are, which he's still going to do, but now he's prioritizing. Who's still asleep, who's in the path of a beast, who needs help vs who can probably handle themselves?

Slowly, so as not to draw the attention of a Bronto, DiMA reaches down for his memory bank and pulls it in against his chest, holding it tight with one arm... then steps towards the nearest still-unconscious form and kneels, giving them a gentle shake. His voice is calm and kind, but his definitely isn't a human countenance so DiMA is braced for alarm. ]

Please do not panic, but we need to evacuate immediately. Can you stand?

fear; deserted

[ In a lot of ways, DiMA is lucky. He doesn't need food or water, and although eventually he'll need a source of power for his memory bank it's not urgent just yet. All that he really has to contend with is the loneliness. It's been a very long time since he was alone.

Maybe he should be considering it a reprieve? Hadriel, as he's learned this place is called, has been somewhat less than welcoming in a way DiMA also hasn't had to deal with for quite some time. He doesn't really resemble a "Null" from what he's seen of them, but he's very visibly mechanical nonetheless. Plastic skin so heavily damaged that his bare frame is exposed in most places, his body a visible mess of wires and nodes, and cobbled-together synth components jutting from his head and shoulders. It's off-putting to these people, and understandably so. This isn't his world, and they've simply never seen anything like him. DiMA gets it, and he is unfailingly patient... he far preferred giving the same explanation over and over and over to this, this emptiness.

He checks all the major locations he can think of and then simply wanders, hoping to come across even a single soul. ]

1

[requiemshark]

[ He remembers the fall and the landing. Remembers knowing exactly he realized it had gone wrong, that he'd gotten more than the wind knocked out of him. Worst of all, he remembers Carolina - sounding so fucking calm about it - had offered him a way out of it. And he remembers how he hadn't had the air to laugh, but he'd tried. He'd fucking tried and told her exactly what it would get her, because the Freelancers don't get to move on, they don't get to be forgiven --

The gunshots, those were next. And then--

Well.

His helmet is off. That's the first thing Ephemera realizes. He's lost his goddamn helmet and there's a series of sharp, throbbing pains in his chest and shoulder. He coughs and it gets worse.

Ow. That's a gunshot. That's multiple gunshots.

And there's someone kneeling over him, someone with a fucked up face, which really should be more concerning than it is.

Ephemera coughs. ]

Get off.

[ He's fine. He's breathing, he's fine. ]

[offloaded]

[ "Fucked up face" is a dramatic understatement. DiMA is a mess of wires and components, his external structure worn away in most places. His face is doing better than most of him, honestly -- the hand he reels back from Ephemera's shoulder is more or less skeletal, or whatever skeletal means for a robot. Just a thin metal framework resembling bones.

Despite the damaged plastic skin, the synth manages to look deeply concerned as the man on the ground coughs, in obvious pain. Which of course has him checking for where he's hurt... ]

...oh dear. You're quite injured.

[ DiMA glances back up at the brontos, whose ire they haven't drawn yet. Luckily. He seems to be thinking for a moment, reassessing. ]

I believe it would still be best to evacuate. Can I assist you?

[requiemshark]

No shit.

[ He's pretty banged up, that's for sure, but he's been worse. Survived worse. This? This is just another day on the job. That's what Ephemera tells himself. It's just a bad fall. He'll get back up. Like always. Thinking otherwise won't help anything, so he doesn't.

Breathe slow. Take it easy when the pain gets sharp. Figure out where the edges are and then work around them. Easy.

Ephemera pushes himself upright with a grunt. Ow. Motherfucker, that hurts. ]

Where's my helmet?

[ Drake is going to kick his ass for this. But there are other, more immediate concerns. Like the robot guy kneeling over him and whatever threat is just beyond Ephemera's eye-line. They're in the colosseum. Not good. Things want to kill you in the colosseum. And this guy doesn't look like any robot Ephemera's ever seen. Too banged up, for one thing, and no armor to speak of. ]

You wanna help, get my fucking helmet.

[offloaded]

[ This man's priorities seem somewhat misplaced, though DiMA can understand the sentiment behind it. Perhaps there's also an interface in his helmet that would assist him with the situation. Alright. He nods his agreement and stands back up, scanning the ground of the arena they seem to be in.

What he relays back to the injured soldier isn't the best news. ]

It seems your helmet is directly between two of the creatures I was hoping to escape from.

[ Unfortunately for them both he's not an assaultron or a sentry bot, he's a synth, and for that certainly not a courser. Hmm. This is probably obvious to the man, but DiMA's mouth quirks wryly anyway as he offers the information. ]

I'm not helpless but I was never meant for combat... either of us drawing their attention seems unwise.

[requiemshark]

[ While the robot is assessing the situation, Ephemera takes a deep breath, grits his teeth, and stands.

It hurts. It really fucking hurts and he's probably lost a fair amount of blood, but he's upright. That's an improvement.

Unfortunately, the information the robot provides isn't heartening. ]

Fuck.

[ Ephemera coughs again, spitting on the ground. Apparently Hadriel still likes to drag the monsters in. And these fuckers are big, look like they'll soak up bullets like a goddamn sponge. If he were in better shape, he'd fire his grapple gun at his helmet and just deal with the consequences, but now --

Yeah. Well. Drake would kick his ass. Drake would kick his ass for sure. ]

I'll live, [ he mutters. In case that was in doubt. ] Goddamnit. Fine. I'll come back for it. You in one piece, or whatever?

[ This guy almost looks like Nick Valentine, only more banged up. A lot more banged up. Ephemera isn't sure what he's supposed to do with a robot who doesn't have any armor. CT never used bots, said flesh and blood people were more reliable during a jump. ]

[offloaded]

[ Hey, the stranger's upright. And steadier than DiMA would have anticipated him being, even as he spits blood at their feet. DiMA splits his attention between the man and the potential threats, relieved when he seems to come to the same conclusion -- the helmet isn't worth the risk, at the moment. ]

Glad to hear it. But we should still find you a stimpak, at least. [ As he addresses the second question, DiMA starts looking for the best way out of the arena. ] I'm as close to intact as I ever am, stranger. The key is staying that way. What about there?

[ The passage he indicates with a subtle tilt of his head looks too narrow for a bronto to charge into. If they can make it there, they could get out at their own pace. Others are stirring and drawing attention, which may work in their favor. DiMA is loathe to leave them to their own devices but has to acknowledge that he's not terribly useful in this scenario. Maybe he can find help outside, and at least get his new companion to a doctor. ]

[requiemshark]

A what?

[ Breathe. Focus on your objective. Center in on that. Everything else is secondary. Ephemera draws his pistol, holding it as steady as he can. He's probably got busted ribs from the fall, along with the gunshots, maybe banged his head too. But he's awake, he's upright, he can work with that. Vision's gone a little fuzzy around the edges, but he'll deal with that later.

Focus on the objective. Right. Ephemera breathes. Centers himself.

Survive. Get to a medic. Find Drake and the others, figure out how long he's been gone. Because he has been gone, otherwise he wouldn't remember all this shit, and the gunshots--

Yeah, well. That sucked. ]

Listen, [ Ephemera says after a moment. ] I'm bleeding pretty bad. I'll live, but I'm slow and you don't look like you sprint. These things run at us, I'm gonna use my shield. It'll keep 'em off.

[ Probably. He hopes. ]

That happens, I'll need you to brace me, okay? I fall over, shield falls over. You up for that?

[offloaded]

A stimpak? It would stop the bleeding, but I don't have one.

[ Odd that the man's never heard of it, but his armor is certainly strange as well. Nothing DiMA has ever seen before. It's not worth focusing on right now, but maybe once they're not in danger of being crushed by a stampeding creature, he'll ask. Right now the priority is getting out and finding help. ]

I can do that, yes. I'm curious about what kind of shield you mean, but hopefully we won't need it just yet and you can show me later.

[ He probably could sprint and save himself, but he's not leaving the man's side now that he knows he's so hurt. ]

Moving slowly should work in our favor. Are you ready?

[requiemshark]

Huh.

[ Okay. That'd be helpful. But it's not here, so Ephemera doesn't dwell on it. He's upright and he's breathing. Remember the mission objective. Everything else is details.

Ephemera nods slowly. ]

Yeah. Let's go.

[ The monsters don't look inclined to charge right this moment. Maybe they aren't carnivorous. A guy can hope. ]

[offloaded]

[ Carefully, quietly, DiMA leads the way to their selected exit, continuing to split his attention between the brontos and his bleeding companion. Nothing to see here, monsters, they're nothing interesting or edible. Unless these creatures like metal.

They've actually managed to make it most of the way across the arena when DiMA notices the soldier falter. He isn't leaving a blood trail or anything but it's likely that the movement is causing problems inside the armor. ]

Nearly there.

[ He sounds encouraging, but also worried. If the man goes down now, DiMA could probably drag him to the passage... but it would be a very close call. ]

[requiemshark]

I'm good.

[ He might not be, but there's no point in advertising that. It won't help anything. Ephemera wishes suddenly that it was a fight. He could do with a surge of adrenaline right about now. Or a can of bio foam. Something to keep him upright, mobile. He's always done better when he's got something to fight. It's the quiet moments that get him.

Breathe. You've got a job to do.

It's almost enough. Ephemera manages another three steps before his leg just fucking gives out and he stumbles, landing on his knee.

Ow. Ow. ]

Keep moving.

[ He's fine. He just has to keep breathing. ]

[offloaded]

[ Look, it's not like DiMA doesn't have a sense of self preservation. When there's no other option? Yeah, he'll fight or run, he values his life. But this isn't that kind of situation just yet. There's no charging bronto just yet, though the clang with which the soldier falls has several turning in their direction.

It's a little nerve-wracking, but not an immediate danger. He's not bolting just yet. ]

Please, let me help you.

[ He's not sure how much weight he can take, as that armor looks heavy, but ordering him away sure isn't going to work. This is what happens when you give a machine free will. ]

[requiemshark]

[ A man can, if needed, walk on a broken leg. Can fight with one. Ephemera's fairly certain the bone is intact and the bullet's just stuck in muscle, but it hurts and the pain is starting to worm its way into his head. Back in the day, he wouldn't have minded so much. Sharkface lived with the pain. Liked it, sometimes. Most of the time. It kept things simple.

It's not useful right now. He doesn't want it there, rattling around his skull.

Breathe, asshole. You're fine. ]

You can't. Keep moving.

[ The armor's too heavy, or at least Ephemera assumes it is. Besides, he's fine. He just as to get back up. He grits his teeth and shifts his weight. It's a matter of willpower, he's sure. He just has to suck it up. Stand up a goddamn soldier.

He stands. He wobbles, but he fucking stands. ]

2

[timecapsuled]

[It's unsettling. One day the place had been... not bustling, but occupied and the next it was this. This emptiness, worse than anything he's experienced in the wasteland before. The signs of habitation left behind make it all the worse, and Nate begins to feel an unsettling, crawling sensation through his entire being long before he comes across the synth.

He finds him in the centre of one of the residential areas, and that silhouette is one he could not mistake for anyone else. Nate's feelings on DiMA are still mixed, still uncertain, but he is at least sure that the synth means no real harm to anyone around him.

With that in mind, he doesn't hesitate in his approach, his hands in his pockets and away from his weapon.]

DiMA! [He calls out, lifting a hand when he comes further into focus. As the distance between them shortens, he goes on;] Might not believe this, but I'm actually really glad to see you.

[offloaded]

[ DiMA turns at the familiar voice, his mildly distressed expression smoothing out when he sees Nate. There's still someone here -- someone he knows, even, and has proven to be trustworthy. To not mean him harm. The human is Nick's friend, not his, but by DiMA is still happy to see him and by the time Nate gets up close enough to see, the old synth is smiling faintly. Maybe a little wryly, since he's pretty sure the sentiment would be the same no matter who the man found. ]

I believe you, Nate. I'm glad to see you, too... but where is everyone else? [ He glances back at the empty housing area, brow furrowed when he turns to Nate again. ] People don't just disappear, especially not this many.

[timecapsuled]

[DiMA, funnily enough, would not be wrong in his assumption. There are few people for whom the greeting would be very different at all, but for now he's just damn glad to have come across anyone at all, let alone somebody that he recognises.

He makes a soft, uneasy sound in response to the synth's question and rubs the back of his neck, glancing around them as if doing so might miraculously conjure up another few people. There's a certain irony in what DiMA says, when Nate considers his own reaction to finding entire towns and cities completely deserted on his escape from the Vault, but this... this feels different. The abandonment of the nuclear-decimated buildings around Sanctuary Hills had felt old, like a thick layer of dust. This feels too new.

It reminds him of the war.]

Normally, I'd agree with you. [Nate replies, letting his hand drop back to his side.] But this place has more tricks up its sleeve than a street performer. I'd bet this isn't what it looks like.

[God, he hopes it isn't what it looks like.]

FEAR

[synthedick]

[It's debatable whether or not synths have souls, but DiMA finds someone nonetheless as he nears the Clinic. Nick nods as he steps through the door, looking just a bit relieved himself to see someone, anyone. He tries not to let it show; he hasn't gotten used to the concept of having this near-stranger as a brother, and would prefer to keep what insecurities he has under all that gruff to himself for now. Unfortunately, given DiMA has the same face -- and knows him in a way Nick doesn't even know himself -- it's probably not hard for the other synth to read him.]

DiMA.

[His greeting is short, impassive; his brow, however, is knitted in concern.]

I was starting to think I might be the only one left, though if it's just you and me, maybe the gods figured it'd be easier to deal with folks they don't have to feed to keep alive.

[offloaded]

[ A soul is more of a philosophical question than a practical one, and DiMA's never really had cause to consider it. Life is life, he knows he has one of those and that it can be taken away.

The relief when he encounters Nick is obvious, despite Nick trying to hide his own. The other synth may not remember him -- DiMA is very concerned about that, but it seems there's nothing to be done about it and may not be a malfunction at all, simply an oddity of being brought to this place -- but he isn't denying their obvious connection this time. That's something. ]

Bro-- Nick. It's good to see you.

[ Mustn't be too forward just yet. He's just used to it. ]

If that's the case, then what would they have done with the organics? Are they alright, somewhere?

[synthedick]

Depends on your definition of 'all right.'

[He shortens the gap between them, but keeps his distance as he stops a few feet away, casting his eyes toward the cliffs on the horizon and the sea beyond. Inwardly, he doubts the gods would just up and leave only the two of them there, but well... Hadriel has had some unexpected changes in the past, and it's not like the gods are always completely logical. In a way, they're as human as their captives.]

Chances are they're somewhere, and that this is temporary. And if it's not, maybe they went back through the Door. For some, that's worse than being here.

[He includes himself in that number, give the state of the Commonwealth and all he's managed to gain in the city, but that's not something he's comfortable disclosing to this brother of his just yet.]

[offloaded]

[ DiMA had considered that, actually -- even before learning that some people were dead back home, it occurred to him that as strange and potentially dangerous as this place could be with its monsters? It was probably still better than certain immediate situations. Like wherever that first young man he'd met had come from, to be shot so full of bullets. It hasn't really felt like they're prisoners, either, at least not yet. DiMA was an experiment before, most of his fellow Acadian synths were that or slaves. Knowing the gods were feeding off this population had sounded almost symbiotic at first, but now... the pieces click into place. ]

You're suggesting this is one of the manipulations I've heard about? To evoke a specific response.

[ That feels a lot like an experiment, and DiMA's brow furrows. ]

For which of them, do you think? Sorrow?

[synthedick]

[Nick gives DiMA a sideways glance, trying to read his expression, more than a little put-off by seeing his own face on this synth more worn out than he is, his body so modified that there's no mistaking what he is even at a distance. He has yet to seem ashamed of it, either, despite the history of where they are and the gods who keep them; they're a bit alike, in that way. No sense in worrying over what he can't change.

And yet, there are some things he can't help but worry about. If everyone is gone, is his family missing, too? Not the brother before him, but his real family, the one he's made here?

He can't focus on that now. It won't do any good, either.]

Maybe. Confusion, Fear. Might even be two of them working together.

[It sure as hell isn't Hope. He starts moving again, his gait unsteady as he leans on his cane, only to pause after a few steps.]

We probably oughtta stick together.

[offloaded]

[ As DiMA has told Nick, told Nate, the fact that he can't hide what he is puts him in a unique position to set an example. But that doesn't quite apply here... and in some ways Hadriel has been harder, having to continually explain what he is. Others, easier, as once he establishes he's something different than people think, they tend to be more accepting by default. Less prejudiced against synths off the bat. He's not a Null, and so they'll listen.

Nick seems quite at ease among the inhabitants of this city, in any case. Whatever cruel simulations the gods might have put him through. DiMA nods his agreement that they should stick together, his gaze drifting to Nick's limp. The visible corrosion of his limbs, troubling to see. ]

How long do these tricks last? We'll have to keep ourselves occupied somehow.

[synthedick]

A week, sometimes two. It all depends on how long it takes for them to get bored, or to get what they need.

[And that varies from god to god. If this is Confusion's doing, it'll be the former; if it's Fear, and he's storing power for a move, it could be a long longer that things are like this.

Which means he needs to get over any awkwardness with his brother, pronto.]

You found a place to stay yet?

[offloaded]

I see.

[ They're probably more effective if they're unpredictable anyway, DiMA supposes. He and Nick will just have to ride this out. Together... it's enough for DiMA to have just the one familiar face, as he doesn't really know anyone else here. His loneliness is slightly different, a quiet ache for Faraday and Chase that's unaffected by what strangers are present in this city. But regarding them, he senses that his brother is already struggling. ]

I'm sorry your friends are missing, Nick.

[ He moves on to answer the question quickly, so there doesn't have to be an awkward pause. ]

I haven't. Now might not be the best time to pick somewhere, with everyone missing. It's not like I would have much to move back out, but I'd expect the actual inhabitant wouldn't be pleased about a stranger wandering into their space.