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uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
uploadedmods) wrote in uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive
TEST DRIVE 001
-TDM threads can be considered game canon if players involved agree & if it suits any roles you may decide to choose for the current plot.
-Any reserving player that does not submit an app by Saturday morning will be subject to challenging applicants.
-Participation in the Test Drive is worth a flat 10 points per month rather than per thread, and you must have a minimum of 5 comments in that month to qualify for it.
-This TDM is good for the duration of the Mist setting. A new TDM will go up before the next setting.
The NETWORK for this setting is a voice-only walkie talkie system that can be used to communicate between all locations. The default channel will be open to all walkie talkies, but characters can change to an unused channel for private conversation.
of note: There seems to be something strange about these walkie talkies, in that there is no static. The quality is disturbingly crystal clear, like the person you're speaking to is right next to you instead of miles away.
CONTENT WARNING: Some prompts contain gore, character death, and substance abuse.
Applications will open Saturday, September 15 until Saturday, September 22
The lights above you are a blindingly, pristine white. The walls around you curve up into the ceiling like the inside of an MRI machine. Your hands, feet, and midsection are strapped to a clinical table, and minutes seem to tick by, with no clear course for escape presenting itself to you.
The curved white space above you flickers with color, and a perfect square like a television screen expands before your eyes. It pans over what appears to be a town, something small and simply populated.
“Hello, and welcome to your first setting,” a neutrally cadenced feminine sounding voice begins, riding the line between human and machine. As she speaks, captions of the text type themselves in neat and perfect Arial font. “The location is loosely based off Bridgton, Maine, United States of America, Earth. The year is 2007. You have been selected to participate. Obedience ensures an enjoyable and immersive experience for our audience. If you have been granted a role, instructions will follow. Do not talk about the role. Do not attempt disobedience. If you have not been granted a role, your objective for this round is simple: survive.”
After that, the shackles may release promptly and allow your character to roam free. Or perhaps not — perhaps they've been given a role to play, and if so, further instructions will play out upon the screen. Once suitably briefed, characters will be released to their own devices. Beware the mist.
learn from the mistakes of others
A pair of unperturbed mall inhabitants decide to chance the mist. They're the first of a handful to trickle out the front doors, and they seem to get by just fine. About a minute ticks by, and they disappear completely into the dense fog that presses in from every direction. It's so anticlimactic that for a moment it almost seems stupid to feel uncomfortable by the sight of it.
Until precisely one half of a body is hurled abruptly and with great force from an indeterminate point in the obscurity. It's not a top half or a bottom half; no, it's a cleanly sliced left half, head to toe as though a neat line were cut down the middle. It slams into the transparent glass doors and crumples before them, still and obviously unmoving, slowly leaking.
After a few seconds, a dark tendril of something reaches out, curls around the jutting left ankle, and drags it with painstaking slowness back into the fog.
At least the rest of them probably made it, right?
Right?
Hopefully you weren't one of the others to follow their lead. If you were, that dark shape seems to be closing in awfully quick.
eff this, let's bounce
A pair of car keys can be found discarded or perhaps dropped in their owners' haste. Braving the mist when it's at its lightest and pressing the key fob will cause a car to beep politely, flashing lights to indicate its location in the fog. Take anyone willing to go with you and pile in. Try to get the hell out of dodge!
An excellent idea....
Within five miles of the car's journey the battery will die and the engine will stall. Consider yourselves effectively stranded and with no one but yourselves to blame. Perhaps help will come if you wait long enough? Hours, surely no more than a few days... Maybe you should consider braving the fog to get back? Five miles can feel like a hundred in conditions like these.
Either way, it seems like you're trapped in the car for about as long as R. Kelly got trapped in the closet during that one unfortunate CD.
radio chatter
Characters in the library and the church will be able to communicate via walkie talkie radio chatter immediately! Characters in the mall will not have this ability until later in the month, so any network style threads with a mall character will take place during Week Two of the October plot or later, after most people have already been fully introduced to the setting and given time to adapt.
Employee of the Month (Multiple)
Some characters will be printed wearing a designated kiosk uniform, their name sloppily stickered in slightly crooked letters onto a Dippin' Dots badge, or whatever store they may happen to be assigned to. The cool voice that introduces them to the mist will carry on to tell them that they'll be playing employee # _____ in this month's immersive experience. Their motivations and objectives are simple: go to work.
Except the role seems to be bugged, because they can never not go to work. If they leave the five or six foot radius of their designated post they'll begin to experience consequences, which worsen in severity based on distance and duration. The role doesn't end at mall closing, it doesn't end on Saturdays, it simply doesn't end. Hopefully next month's code push will have a bug fix; we apologize for the inconvenience.
(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the role will wear off within the first in-game week)
Aggravated Assault
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of a CONVICTED FELON having recently been released on parole. Your motivation for this month's immersive experience is frustration. Having undergone hard time, you'll find that we have increased your aggression and temper characteristics, and lowered your inhibitions. Your objective is to find and begin an altercation with Snuff the Rooster, who will be playing the role of the person who turned you in, NARK. Your altercation must take place in a public space with witnesses, and may not stop until Snuff the Rooster is unconscious, evicted from the mall, or someone intervenes.
Thank you for your participation!
Consequences for not completing the objective in this role can be moderate to severe.
Snuff the Rooster
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing the role of NARK. Formerly a close friend and ally of CONVICTED FELON from Aggravated Assault, you were quick to roll on them during police questioning in exchange for your freedom. Your motivation is to turn over a new leaf, and get your shit together. Your objective is to survive the altercation.
Thank you for your participation!
The Lovers (Duo Role)
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing one half of a partnership role! Please seek out (character 2). Your motivation this round is love, and the need to protect your partner from threats both inside and outside of the mall. Your objectives is to greet your lover with a kiss and place them above all others. Do not act like strangers.
Consequences for not completing the objective in this role or failing to present a convincing couple can be mild to moderate.
Pathological
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. Your motivation is to tell lies; at least one third of what you say must be unarguably untrue. Your objective is to keep these lies from being discovered as false.
Consequences for not complying with this role can vary from mild to severe, with the compulsion to tell larger and larger lies growing as time goes on.
Scared Speechless
Congratulations, participant! You will be playing a background character in our current setting. You may choose one person, stranger or otherwise. This is the only person you may communicate with, either verbally or through writing.
Consequences for not complying with this role are severe.
potency error
Someone seems to have miscalculated the relative strength of intoxicants; all inhibition-altering substances seem to have been cranked up to eleven. One shot has the strength of three, though the taste seems to stay exactly the same. One or two drinks will quickly creep up on you. One of the joints found discarded in the bathroom trashcans will easily green you out. God forbid you've got anything stronger.
greatest movie of all time
Settling in to the relatively nice theater found at the far end of the mall is a decent way to make the time go by. The projectors are automated, and there are six different theaters that show flicks at scheduled times.
Except that every single one of them is showing Spider-Man 3. Every single one, every single showing, no matter what is advertised, becomes Spider-Man 3. That's how you know this is a horror game. Hope you didn't wander in by mistake because the doors will shut behind you and leave you to watch the entire showing. Please keep your feet off of the seats.
please replace toner cartridge
It seems there was an error in printing someone this first time around; everything came through but the visuals somehow. Your character is flesh and blood, fully formed, wearing tangible clothes even, but are completely invisible. Donning additional clothing causes it to clip out and then promptly disappear. Taking clothes off will cause them to reappear. Hopefully this gets fixed in the next lite patch.
(If choosing to keep these threads as game canon, the glitch will wear off within the first in-game week)
no subject
That's what he would say if he could talk right now, and maybe his expression manages to convey the first part. As for the second...
Not far from his chosen bay of massage chairs, amidst the rest of the food court eateries, is the local Jamba Juice. Now he may not know what the hell a Jamba is, but the juice part is clear enough, which would seem to imply that they should have some glasses somewhere.
So, he makes a series of hand gestures pointing, in this order,
to her
to the juice shop
to his glass
to his bottle of booze.
Look, he's not stingy. He'll share. There's a whole liquor store full of drink to try once this bottle's done. Plenty to go around. She just has to decipher the message first--not that he's tried to make it hard or anything. It's not like it's a riddle.
no subject
And what the hell does he mean with the smoothies?
"Looking for mixers? I'd recommend against it."
no subject
No, he waves her off and tries again, emphatically pointing:
You, go to the juice shop and get a glass so that I can pour you some whiskey.
Oh this is silly, he should just go get a glass for her himself. Well, he's not too proud. So he stands up. And promptly discovers that his legs are pretty much jelly, which...wow. He hasn't drunk that much, what the hell?
The world teeters dangerously on its axis for a moment, threatening to fall right over, and he grabs hold of the back of the back of the massage chair to keep himself upright, his mind reeling. No, seriously, what the hell?
no subject
"Lightweight... Try not to fall over and hurt yourself."
no subject
Thanks very much but he's pretty damn good at holding his booze. He's had a lot of practice and generally he needs to be approximately sober even a few drinks in. Too many years in a line of bar work where impaired judgment would be a major liability and all that. Anyway, she's not to know.
The point is (and if he could tell her this he would, counting it off on potentially the wrong number of fingers): 1. that this stuff is a lot stronger than it ought to be, 2. that he's completely fine and he's going to get her that damn glass from that damn juice shop over there just to prove the point, and 3. wow, did he mention that this stuff is really a lot stronger than it ought to be?
What actually end up happening is that he shakes a rather unsteady forefinger at her, then fixes his gaze on the Jamba Juice counter, and does an...adequate impression of a sober person walking towards it. Chalk it up to sheer stubbornness.
no subject
She doesn't move from her spot, though, instead watching him move toward the counted with her arms crossed over her chest and a raised eyebrow, not really sure if she was hoping he'd fall over or not. It's probably politer to hope he won't, right?
"I suppose if I ask you can't actually explain what you're doing?"
no subject
Or at least not being able to explain with words. Actions, however, should make it pretty damn clear.
He makes it to Jamba Juice, and he walks right behind the counter because hey, there's no one here to stop him. Then he rummages about a bit until he finds--ah, yes.
A whole tall stack of clear plastic cups. He smacks them down on the counter, and predictably the stack topples the moment that he takes his hand off it and cups just go everywhere, so he tries to grab them as they fall and then basically there are just flying cups knocked over and sailing across the floor, but look, he saves one! Amidst all the spinning, falling, bouncing, rolling plastic (and to be honest, that in itself is kind of a novelty--they don't have loads of plastic where he's from) he's got his hand on one cup, and he sets it down with a dramatic gesture, like it's a gods damned glass chariot or something.
Behold! This is what he's fucking doing.
no subject
But apparently he's finally figured out how to get what he wants. Good job, now there's just dozens of cups bouncing and rolling around on the floor that someone is going to have to pick up. Someone else is going to have to pick up.
"You couldn't have just said you wanted a cup?" That was probably rude, but then so was throwing cups everywhere.. What a damn mess. "That would have been easier, wouldn't it?"
no subject
He doesn't. Mostly because she's too far away and it's not very aerodynamic so it wouldn't anywhere near reach, and he's worked hard for this damn cup, okay? He's not going to just throw it on the floor.
As for the "just saying he wanted a cup" bit, he fairly glowers at her. She's not keeping up with the plot here very well, in his considered opinion (And seriously, you try to do something nice for someone...). So he gives her a very flat, unimpressed bitch, please sort of face, lifts thumb and forefinger to his temple, and mimes shooting himself in the head. Well that one's pretty unambiguous, at least.
And then he stalks back towards his chair, nearly stumbling over strewn plastic cups on the way, sending the few that cross his path spinning. When he gets there, he bends over almost artfully, picks the bottle of whiskey up off the floor where he'd left it, and makes a display of pouring about three shots worth into the cup. (It's possible that said display is merely the result of him taking great care to pour into the cup and not spill liquor everywhere.)
Finally, he turns a little unsteadily--it's good that it's a big cup with relatively little in it--and extends the cup in her direction with a defiant shove. Here.
no subject
She eyes the cup for a moment, trying her hardest not to just glare outright, although she does have a superb resting bitch face, regardless. She doesn't really have the authority to deal with the patience she also doesn't have. Usually by yelling. Or arresting people. She could probably do neither without pissing someone off now.
It's a moment before she takes the cup from him, too, a little concerned for what might be in it if he's so far down and is apparently insulted that she thought he was a lightweight. Honestly, she's lost so many functions, she can't even be certain that she won't start feeling it when she absolutely shouldn't.
"How polite of you. Now are you going to clean up the mess or should I?"
no subject
He just stares at her. Like honestly flat out stares. He's got exactly zero idea what her problem is, but severe constipation is what immediately leaps to mind.
He goes through all the effort to offer her a drink in spite of how she's been deliberately obtuse about it the whole time. And now finally, he's managed it--and she's seen exactly how much trouble he's gone through--and instead of a thank you she acts like he's personally pissed in her cornflakes. Wow, well you're very fucking welcome!!
Oh, sure, some plastic cups rolling around on the floor of a creepy shopping mall is definitely a top tier concern when there's people dying outside, sliced in half by some unseen thing lurking in that thick mist, oh and also he can't talk without risking a brain aneurysm, and they've all been kidnapped and thrown into this horror show for the entertainment of some perverse unseen audience, and they might all still fucking die because they have no weapons, no magic, no way to actually secure the giant glass doors that are all that stands between them and whatever certain death is lurking is out there.
But yeah. Absolutely. Clean, dry, never been used, plastic fucking cups on the floor. That sure is a crisis point right there.
You know what? If she's so worried about patrolling the mall for a spit and polish white glove inspection, she can go knock herself out.
He lifts the bottle of booze he's still got in his hand to tap it lightly against her cup with a false smile. Cheers! Bottoms up! And then he flops back defiantly into his massage chair, resting his bottle atop one knee. He's not cleaning a damn thing.
no subject
"Are you always this charming or is it just for me?" She can guess the answer to that question, but really, he's asking for it at this point. ]If he wants to give sass--even if he can't say it out loud--he deserves to get some back.
"Or is it the booze?"
no subject
Seriously, just screw this, screw that, and screw every other thing in between, her holier-than-thou attitude in particular.
He leans over, picks up his cup from where he set it down on the floor beside his chair, and swirls the remaining liquid in the glass while giving her the most unapologetically obnoxious, passive aggressively, faux-smarmy smile he can muster (which, despite his drunkenness, registers pretty impressively on the obnoxious scale).
Screw you, lady, I'm charming as fuck. To people who aren't assholes. And he throws back a swallow of the amber liquid, immediately feeling it blossom warmly through his chest. Maybe if he gets drunk enough he can forget that she's there...or just forget that he cares that she's there.
no subject
She did roll her eyes and glare. He wants a staring contest, fine. She's got nowhere to be and years of practice being a bitch.
"That's what I thought. You seem like the type to leave a mess for someone else to clean up."