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uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
uploadedmods) wrote in uploadedmeme2018-08-18 12:01 am
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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)
DABI | My Hero Academia | OTA
[The first breath of air didn't feel right. It scratches and burns the inside of his ribcage, as if he's breathing in pine--a inward take of code that built him from the inside out. It echoes in the cavern of his newly-written skull and echoes out past burnt and damaged lips uncomfortably as his eyes take a minute to focus. But focus comes onto a completely baffling situation, as he takes a moment to process exactly what's going on.]
[Dabi's head swivels around, and he realises he's inside what appears to be some sort of computer hardware store. The lights are blaring and he's starting to see that he's not quite alone, either. Perhaps that's what causes his mind to stall a little in deciding its next course of action:]
[He can't trust anyone here. And he certainly can't be truthful to them about what he's thinking. Where he's from, who he is...]
[No, none of it would be free for any of them to have. That'd be easy enough, though--it's not like he was terribly truthful with anyone he knew back home, either. So he's going to take this situation with almost a laughable amount of amusement, for now.]
[The key is to survive?]
[That's easy.]
[Fingers move up to touch the front of his throat as a breathless little wheeze escapes him.]
This is someone's idea of a joke. [He travelled in circles that'd allow for it. So after a moment, he's already leaving the hardware store, a grin on an uncomfortably disfigured face. His usually low tone switching as he calls out into the bigger body of the Mall itself:]
And the funniest thing about it is that there's no punchline, right?
Learn from the Mistakes of Others
[For someone who has been yanked into a situation that's entirely alien and admittedly horrifying, this guy appears to be almost uncomfortably calm. His gaze is deadened, tired--as he gazes out past the wall of mist with an expression that can really only be described as bored. Perhaps it's the clear disfigured state of his face--the stapled-together rankled skin that looks impossibly burnt--that makes it difficult to give him any other look. After all, the look in bright blue eyes is almost wild in contrast to the rest of his calm-looking exterior.]
[And what he's staring at with that quietly intense expression? Movement in the mists. He'd seen two young idiots run out into it without any care to warnings or worry. Stupid, really. Dabi didn't like the idea of being trapped in a place like this any better than those two fools, but he wasn't about to go throw himself in danger without...]
[And then there's the stark visual of one of those aforementioned idiots being thrown back where he could see it. Wire-thin slices of flesh and bone, exposed organs...]
[All he could do was chuckle darkly, and turn his head towards the person standing nearest to him who was also watching this horrid turn of events. He doesn't seem that nonplussed about it, but instead, rather relieved he'd stayed on instinct to see what would happen for himself.]
Disgusting. [His voice sounds about as tired as the disfigured youth looks, staples keeping his mouth together pulling a little grotesquely as he appears to smile for a moment, before a hand moves to cover it. He can feel bile rising in his throat, but he masks his disgust easily enough.]
So, how about it. Want to chance it yourself?
potency error
[A mall hidden in fog. People being increasingly violent within the halls of some too-populated mall in the middle of 'America', as they've been told. Freaks of all shapes, sizes, and even people who seem to be invisible on first sight...]
[Yeah, it felt just like home, didn't it. Oh, except for the part that he witnessed a few people get brutally murdered by the aforementioned fog. If his task was to survive, then there was no way in hell he was chancing any of that. But it wasn't as if he was going to get a job, either.]
[No.]
[Instead, he decided to do what any wayward youth would do in a crisis situation: Make bad decisions and do whatever the hell he pleased until a better solution was either presented, or he came up with one inside an alcohol-muddled brain.]
[One might stare at the disfigured youth in question to whether or not he was even old enough to drink, but really--it was hard to tell when his face was barely recognisable under a mess of purpled scars and medical stitching.]
[And would you really care all that much when he seems to wave a hand at you, lazily, in a half-assed attempt to get your attention?]
Yeah, you. You've seen it already. Situation's shit. [He puts aptly, giving his head a nod as almost perfectly white teeth can be seen under his thin lips. He raises a paper cup--stolen from one of the food court stores, probably.] Sit and have a drink with me. Shit situations don't get much better.
But at least there are distractions like this.
potency error
(Granted, it's not like he's much better. Plenty of people had been giving him concerned or curious stares, too. Maybe he should have tried to wash some of the massive bloodstains out of his coat.)
He'd been expecting to get snapped at for his obvious staring- and so the wave and greeting has him tilting his head, as though trying to figure out the guy's angle. None immediately visible, he shrugs a shoulder apathetically, turning to approach.]
...Sure. Got nothin' better going on.
[Granted, he won't actually drink himself. Too many issues with the idea of losing control. But the eclectic company is better than tooling around the mall in a circle, all alone and with no desire to do much of anything and even less of an idea as to what he'd be doing in the first place.
He steps up to the table and sinks down into the chair opposite the scarred boy, still unable to wrench his eyes away from tracing those stitches and scars.]
You make it sound like you got experience with shit situations. [He reaches out to take the bottle sitting on the table. He may be alleytrash, but he's capable of being somewhat polite-- and so he carefully reaches it over to refill the scarred man's cup for him, as he waits for a response.]
no subject
[He takes a moment to look at this guy once he accepts his offer, noting his slight tone of apprehension but letting it slide as he sits down across from him. Bright blue eyes flicking to examine the bloodstains on the others' coat. He could ask about them, but decides it's a topic that's best saved for after 'pleasantries' and whatnot. They've got time, after all.]
Plenty of experience. When you come from a place like mine, you get used to shitty situations becoming regular. [He gives the other a somewhat sideways smirk, the expression pulling at those staples a little uncomfortably. His expression is somewhat placid, however, and he nods his head in thanks as he refills his drink. Wow, what a gentleman. Covered in blood and polite. Looks like he called over a winner.]
Can't say I've ever been kidnapped before, though. Interesting experience. Can't say I'd do it twice. [He raises the glass a little, tipping his head forward.]
How about you?
no subject
(He really has never been the brains of the operation. Better than some of the others, sure. But never one to actually volunteer anything or put effort into figuring it out. This easy camaraderie is a nice reprieve.)]
Nah. Never been kidnapped. [A shrug, and he sits back, one leg crossing over the other comfortably as he lifts a hand to scratch at the scruffy hair tucked under his hat.] This part's pretty new.
The fog's kinda like a way more intense version of something we got back home, but that's about it. Our monsters were easier to deal with, though. And their appearance was pretty predictable. [Never thought he'd miss The Dark Hour, but here we are. An expected time, with rules about when it appears and who feels it and when more powerful Shadows attack. It took a lot of the uncertainty away from their fight.]
[Another shrug. It's basically his default gesture, especially with his hands tucking comfortably into the pockets of his coat.]
At least the mall here's nicer.
gets back to this finally im so sorry;;;
After all, whatever's outside in the mist could break in and try to murder them at any time, right?
He gives a sideways little smirk at the other as he speaks. Listening with slightly piqued curiosity. Clearly, if this guy was used to shit like monsters that appeared in fog, the man can't be from the same place he was.
Interesting, really. It made the spools of his brain turn a little as he leans his head back, looking at the other a little like how a cat stares at something it's unsure of from a slightly higher position. Hm.]
Don't really like malls, on a good day. So I can't share that opinion. [He swirls his drink, bringing it up to his mouth again--but he doesn't take a drink. Instead, he squints at the other.]
Monsters appearing in fog isn't something normal, you know that, right? [Teeth click as they appear under damaged lips, and there's clearly something cheeky to his tone.]
Suspicious, you know, if you're used to it.
[Is he serious, or is he playing? It's pretty hard to tell when he has a face that's hard to read thanks to its disfigurement.]
ITS COOL i was out of the country for like a week anyway, it was well timed
At Dabi's question, though, Shinjiro merely tilts his head, brows furrowing. Because of course it's not normal. Monsters aren't normal. Getting dragged to another country across the world and back in time by two years, if the voice in the machine could be trusted, wasn't fucking normal either.
Suspicious, though?
...Yeah. Probably. He could see that.
A soft snort, and he eventually shakes his head, lips curling into a wry, unfelt smile that comes nowhere near his eyes.] So what, you think I could be some mastermind behind all this shit or something? Called all the fog here, got those things as my pets?
[There's a hoarse laugh, and he finally reaches out for the empty glass in front of him, idly running his fingers over it.] But you know, immediately accusing someone else's pretty suspicious too.
potency
In circles, passing the same window displays until they all blurred into the sharp sheen of glass.
The fog may be home to a voracious hoard of unknown beasts, but conditions in the mall itself aren't much better. He may be better suited to the mist.
Approaching the bar, the thought occurs to him yet again - he hasn't bothered to count how many times he's been tempted to simply walk out of the doors. For the moment, the whim is abated by a stranger's dull voice and half-hearted invitation.
Takasugi accepts, sliding next to the man to reach over the bar and grab himself a bottle of bourbon and a cup. Settling into the stool, he pours himself a glass and leaves the bottle open.] A bad decision would liven the place up.
What do you think? Want to make one? [He raises his glass, a silent toast to the idea.]
takes a weekish to get to this because irl sucks
The eyepatch, the snakelike gaze, and then the sound of his voice; dark, like tarnished silver but with an edge to it that could cut like a knife.
And it's what that voice suggests to him along with a raise of a glass that almost makes the hairs along the back of his neck tingle with an odd sort of anticipation. His fingers clench a little against his own glass, and where normally bright blue flames would flicker up, his finger merely clench. His teeth click as a small, but sly smile moves up burnt and held-together lips as he turns his head to look fully at this eyepatched man.]
Dangerous. [A single word is all he speaks at first, before raising his glass just a little--almost out of reach of Takasugi's own.] Are you asking a stranger to participate in public vandalism or something?
[His own voice is dull, like a fire that's on the verge of burning out--but despite his accusations, there's most definitely embers burning in those bright blue eyes of his. That smirk misplaced alongside words that suggests he's appalled at the idea of 'creating' their own distraction.]
You might be onto something.
arrival
Man. Punk really went hardcore for the next generation didn't it? That must've been it right? Punk ran so deep that people were now tearing themselves up just to stick it to the man...
With this explanation, he finally closes his mouth to chew and starts walking - his intended trajectory just happening to pass where Dabi is standing. He's still looking over the kid as he passes before he decides to simply pause and offer him a glance.]
In adulthood, you'll find old people forget the punchlines all the time. If that gets you going, then you're pretty well equipped from now on, huh? [He says between the smack and chew of candy.]
takes a weekish to get to this because irl sucks
...Ah, no. He blinks once, tired-looking eyes squinting at the man as he gets a better look at him than his first glance. Despite the pale hair and deep voice, this guy... wasn't actually as old as he'd thought. Pale hair like that, he supposed, could be related to a quirk, after all.
He tips his head forward, as if to get a better look at the man--his gaze looking a little bored as he examines what the hell the man was wearing. A yukata, in this day and age? Maybe he was into cosplay, he thinks for a moment, before he lets out a quiet, huffing laugh.A smirk that pulls at staples that appear to be holding his face together.]
If something like that 'got me going', I'd start to question myself pretty heavily, old man. [The drawl to his voice is apparently very purposeful on how he pulls on those last two words. Trying to get Gintoki's goat, apparently.]
So honestly, I'm still looking for a punchline.
Do you have one, then?
mistakes EYYYOOOO
[following him had been a matter of course and curiosity, last witnessing him on a TV screen standing in the middle of an empty street across from his father, and he would exercise more caution and disappear elsewhere to mask his own presence from the villain if he wasn't absolutely certain his abilities are equally suppressed as his own]
[and he was just about to — leap, attack, do something, before he's interrupted and distracted by the slam of a body against the glass, and it makes them both freeze and blanch and forget whatever previous train of thought was there previously]
[to his question, Todoroki glances back with his teeth showing, and just barely containing a tremble at his shoulders]
What do you think? [with no small amount of animosity]
takes a weekish to get to this because irl sucks
His head turns, slowly and with purpose, to focus on Todoroki Shouto with a cold, quiet gaze. Ah, that's a look he recognised. As he's sure he was just on the other end of a very familar gaze from the youth's own father.
Adrenaline prickles at the base of his spine, crawling up it like a fervor of ants that had just caught scent of rotting fruit. It makes his teeth clench behind his lips and a fire start to burn in bright blue eyes as he forcibly relaxes his pose, letting his hands settle in the pockets of damaged, old slacks.]
A lot of things. [He begins, his tone quiet and almost mocking as his head tilts towards the other.] The Todoroki family are pretty prone to jumping into things over their heads, from what I've seen so far.