thisavrou_ooc | February Test Drive Meme

Multiversal travel can be disorienting, but there’s no need to worry! All side effects are temporary and lessen with each trip. Your body may experience several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You may have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer dizziness while others are perfectly fine. You notice that the area you are in is filled with a soft cerulean light and feels slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you. Regardless of your current state, however, the stress of transit forces your body into unconsciousness.

Waking up is another story. Or maybe it isn’t.

You find yourself in a nondescript room; sometimes with others who have found themselves in the same situation, sometimes alone. Welcome to Avagi Station, your new home.

New arrivals are, of course, welcome to explore the various locations around the station. Additionally everyone is provided with a communicator in case they want to pose any questions to the population already residing on Avagi.

Moon 900CA1

Like every city has a junkyard, this universe is littered with (mostly) uninhabited planets or moons that are being used for the same purpose. Welcome to one of the many universal "dump sites" of the galaxy. Moon 900CA1 is one of many, a celestial body belonging to the planet of Ploria, and as this area of the universe is technologically advanced in comparison to others, so is a majority of the junk left here. There is a haze encompassing this moon and breathing masks are needed for anyone who decides to visit the surface. Every inch of ground is covered in debris, various spacecrafts, and machines. Some of it is piled higher than one can see over if standing at the bottom.

spare parts:

What’s even better than having to trade precious goods or services for the equipment that the station so desperately needs? Getting them for free. Well, free with the added ingredient of elbow-grease. Stocking up spare parts is a must when traveling the universe. This planet is brimming with discarded ships, machines, vehicles, and all manners of "outdated" technology. You’ve been given a list of things to keep an eye out for while you’re out shopping but feel free to pick up something for yourself. After all, one species’ trash might be your coolest thing ever.

build-a-thing:

While it’s clear that most of the visitors here are scavenging or looting, there are a very small number of booths scattered throughout where vendors have set up shop. Is there something you need or want? New jet-propulsion space shoes? A small flying craft? A robot? These vendors will use scrap parts that you’ve found and brought to them, for a small fee of course, to build it for you. Be sure to bring the best parts that you can because you’ll only get the highest quality that you’ve provided.

trash junkies::

Such large stacks of trash are bound to shift and move over time, it’s simply a natural part of this moon’s gravity fluctuations, but why is it that the movements are perfectly in sync with every step you take? You move, the debris moves. You stop, the junk stills. If you choose to investigate, or get too close too quickly, you’ll discover that you aren’t alone in your scavenging. Creatures, varying anywhere between a foot to over ten feet tall, dive and sort through the debris. They are diligent in their searches and shy away from organic contact of any kind. If you have anything that they deem of value in your hands, they’ll wait until your back is turned and then try to take it from you. On the plus side, they don't seem too dangerous?

moon tomb:

Those who choose not to wear a breathing mask will notice a horrible and overwhelming scent wafting gently on the wind. It’s a scent that is familiar, but you can’t quite place it. At first. The ACE devices coordinate with your respiratory functions, and a small notice will flash across the screen: High concentration of decomposing organic material. Some will know what this means and head back to the portals immediately. Those who don’t, or are too curious, will follow their ACEs to areas with much higher concentration levels and stumble across an equally common occurrence on these kind of disposal planets: bodies, of varying species, discarded for one reason or another. There are thousands of them spread out among the refuse, and the further you explore, the longer your ACE warns of exposure to elements of disease. Now might be the time to turn back...

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO

Note: While TDM threads can generally be counted as game canon, upcoming plot and scenarios may limit the settings or circumstances under which the interactions take place. Players are, of course, welcome to fudge details in order to keep these interactions as part of their in game CR.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Erik wishes they had the breathing masks when the life support was failing. His lungs are still sore, and he sometimes finds himself coughing up some kind of dark phlegm that he has to make sure Clara doesn't notice. He doesn't need her to start fussing.

He catches a resonance that might be samarium-cobalt. They don't have any on the station, or anything to make it with, and it's damned useful stuff. If you can keep it from shattering, that is. He is so set on his goal that he doesn't notice the young man at first.

"Pardon me." He steps around the other and whatever it is that he's doing and starts sorting through the refuse. There's a rusty clattering sound behind him and he belatedly remembers his makeshift scrap orb. He pauses and turns to lift it, and sets it hovering out of reach of the roaming trash heaps before returning to the task at hand.

Edited (also went to brackets) 2018-02-17 20:03 (UTC)

John had managed to find some tubing that should work, should hold up to the types of fluids necessary. He glances up as the man excuses himself, but that's not really the focus of his attention. The clatter of metal draws his gaze to the scrap. He turns, looking at the man and the hovering metal.

"Uh," he starts, and then kicks himself, because yeah, real smooth, John. That doesn't make you sound like a flat-footed idiot at all. "Hey," he tries again, stronger. "How are you doing that?" He's momentarily proud of himself. It sounded all lot better than he thought, his heart pounding against his ribs like it is.

Erik is distracted from his goal by the young man trying to talk to him. One doesn't like to be rude, after all. "Hm?" He glances back at his own personal moon. "Oh. I can manipulate magnetic fields. Those are all ferrous metals. At least the outer layer. Some in the core are just being carried around. But it's an ability I was born with, it's not something I can teach." He can't help but feel a flicker of hope. There are so many telepaths, after all. Surely somebody else can do what he can do. "Unless it's something you can do. Then I might be able to help you improve."

His gaze drifts back to the orb, lips parted slightly. The metal lighter in his hand flicks open and shut."Not like that," he says. "I knew a guy who could. As far as mutant abilities go, it's pretty bad ass. I mean, I'm no slouch either, but this guy was a fucking rockstar."

Erik's eyebrows lift slightly, and a smirk threatens to break through his attempt to keep his expression neutral. He doesn't recognize this young man, but he's quite possibly from his world. Could he be talking about Erik, himself? Or are there other variations, like the difference between Peter and Pietro?

"It's quite a useful skill. Though a rather rare one, in my experience." He notices how the young man fidgets with his lighter. "What is your gift?"

It was as if he were waiting for the invitation. The eagerness is obvious, and a good half of that is because he's quite seriously enamored with his own ability. It's still a rush, still an 'almost better than sex' sort of high.

He flicks the zippo open, thumb immediately spinning the wheel to ignite a spark. The flame blooms, longer and leaner than would come from the fire normally. It grows rapidly, into a ball of it's own, collecting in his other palm.

Hey, actions speak louder than words, or so he was always being told.

The young man is more than eager to demonstrate, and Erik stops fighting the smile. His enthusiasm is as infectious as it is rare. He actually laughs when he manipulates the flame.

"Too many of our kind fear what we're capable of." He muses aloud. "Your joy will serve you well."

His 'joy' is probably what gets him into so much trouble, but he's pleased as punch to see the other man so delighted. That was a far better response than the constant admonishment the teachers at Xavier's had given him. He snuffs out the flame, but it's almost reluctant. With a click, the lighter's closed again, and he shrugs, playing it off. He'd be nonchalant, if not for his own grin.

"Yeah. I don't do too bad. Nice to know I'm not the only mutant on this trash heap, though."

He smiles fondly. "Ah, so you are a mutant. Excellent. There are more of us on the station." His smile fades into a thoughtful frown. "Fire on the station is... problematic. We will have to build a space where you can hone your skills safely."

Five minutes into this conversation, and already they're into power improvement. John grins, buzzing with energy and anticipation. He offers a hand. "I'm John- uh, Pyro."

Erik grins back, and takes the young man's hand and shakes firmly. "Pyro. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Erik, though some call me Magneto."

John's idea of a poker face is this weird expression of almost stoic anger. "That's not funny, man." He takes his hand back, arching a brow in an almost scolding expression. "I've actually met Magneto. You've got no idea what you're trying to live up to, sayin' shit like that."

By now, Erik has come to expect some measure of hostility when other mutants find out who he is. Or just upon meeting him if they already know. This time, it's a bit different. He looks at the boy, disbelief clear on his face, but it doesn't take long to realize that this young man is completely serious.

He's not quite sure how he's supposed to prove his identity. He glances back at his personal moon of floating scrap metal, still lazily spinning on its axis behind him. Apparently that wasn't enough. He shrugs and rolls up his sleeve, revealing his tattoo.

"I would say I have a better idea than you do, Pyro." He drawls slightly. This really is too flattering to be irritating. It's even a little humorous. "Though I do appreciate your interest in protecting my reputation.

February Test Drive Meme

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