T E S T
D R I V E
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ABOARD THE MOIRA
Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged, but as another planet grows closer to being docked, things start to get a little hectic. You'll notice a slight change in the artificial gravity as the Moira is pulled into a gravitational field; however, more noticeable changes can be found in the overall morale as you prepare to descend.
☄ on your ownThere are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) C R O M I AWhile exhibits or museums exist to commemorate people or objects, planets like this are designed as a memoriam for certain eras across the universe. Welcome to Cromia—a one-of-a-kind place set in medieval times. Sort of. Most technology on Cromia isn’t particularly advanced, and the fashion leaves little to be desired. However, one thing is very noticeable about this planet once you decide to explore: there are no organic people anywhere to be found. Cromia is inhabited by a race of intelligent, humanoid robots who tend to and care for the environment as well as live peacefully with one another. Yet, some have been programmed to show a certain disdain for those who are, in some way, living, and their hostility ranges between hurling insults and vegetables to reporting trespassers to the authorities. Besides that, all seems well and prosperous on Cromia.
☄ the emperor’s new servosThe Royal Family of Cromia has extended an invitation to join them for festivities, food, and drink beginning when the first sun sets. This night is a way to relax and perhaps romance that special someone in your life with a little song and dance. For those who sample certain drinks, they might find themselves doing just that without being able to help themselves. Or perhaps that delicious wine you've heard so much about is actually a very oily concoction meant for the robots of Cromia. For others, a little cheese or venison might instill the need for fisticuffs. Could the desserts hold the same sort of enchantment? Do you dare to find out? ☄ catch-a-riiiideThe fastest way to get around is via carriage in the city, and each city is pulled by a large insectoid cyborg. Their handlers assure you they’re quite tame, especially since their silly organic minds have been implanted with a control chip. They’ll take you to whatever destination you program in without a hiccup! What could go wrong? Except on the way, that ever-so-important control chip happens to malfunction. Your once docile bug-stallion is now running amok down the streets. Do you jump out before you meet a sticky end? Or do you take control and force it to stop? Either way, you aren’t likely to be getting your deposit back from this. ☄ taste the rainbowArchery. Bugback riding. Jousting. These are the typical leisure activities suiting the time period you now find yourself in, which is what you might assume when you see the banners denoting a competition. Anyone can enter. Anyone can win the prizes. When you ask what sport you’ll have to play, they just say one word: skittles. Similar to bowling, this sport is played on a long, flattened field, and the point of it is to use the wooden ball to knock over the "skittles" that are set up in increasingly complex patterns for each round. These skittles are also made of wood, exactly ten feet high each, and the balls used vary from the size of a golf ball to a canon ball (dealer’s choice on ball size). People are usually split into teams, but for the sake of the competition, everyone plays alone. Whoever gets the most points moves forward in the competition, and hope that there are no accidents mid-throw!
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Daryl Dixon | The Walking Dead | Open
Daryl Dixon adapted to life in the apocalypse because his whole life had been about survival. It's been about making sure each day, you take your next breath. He'd never had anything growing up neither. He hunted for his food, lived in shithole after shithole. Everybody's always eyed him like the guy you want to walk ten feet around.
Hell, he didn't blame them half the time. He sure as hell preferred it that way.
Point was though, he was used to living in the apocalypse. He was used to dealing with getting shit on constantly by life, either by walkers or people. Damn if the people weren't shaping to be the worst part of it so far.
But getting dragged off here, faced with stuff he's never even dreamed of before... He has no idea how to even begin processing this shit. Computers and physicals and goddamn contracts that he doesn't want to touch, but doesn't have a choice if he wants to get back to his people, his family.
And Daryl is a survivor in the end. He adapts. He'll have to adapt here, he guesses. Doesn't mean he's not wary. He feels like a caged animal, cornered and caught and no way out.
"The hell am I supposed to do with this thing?" He grumbles, looking down at the MID, wishing he could tear the damn thing out and crush it. Something tells him that wouldn't do jackshit to warm him up to anybody thogh.
observation deck;
Eventually, he finds a place to settle in, probably on the floor as he sits back to marvel at endless stars in front of him. Hell...
He can't believe it. He's in space. He's actually in space with aliens and new planets and... he was never meant for this. He's pretty sure he was never meant to be no astronaut. He wasn't meant to be in some bad Star Trek episode.
He's gotta keep it together, but he's almost at a loss for what to do here.
Daryl ends up curling into himself a little more, drawing a knee to his chest as he brings his hand up, idly chewing on his thumbnail. Nervous habit he's never broken.
mess hall;
One thing he's finding he likes about this place? The food. It doesn't matter if it tastes good or bad, it's more food than he's seen in a long time. He piles his plate full, shovels it into his mouth like a wild animal or a man half-starved. He's using his fingers, pausing every once in a while to lick them clean or to look around at who's near him, if there's anybody he recognizes.
Arrival.
The answer doesn't come from another human being, but rather a part of one. Namely a severed human head, looking up at Daryl from the ground. Honestly, he's kind of offended that the captains of this vessel sought fit to give him some kind of magic bracelet of all things.
His face, and the insulted expression on it, are somewhat obscured by the large, rusted helmet adorning his head. Still, there's enough visible to tell that he doesn't find any amusement in their current situation whatsoever.
no subject
Not a damn one of them have talked yet.
It makes him jump back a bit, missing the fact that he doesn't have his crossbow on him, no kinda protection. "Shit--"
He watches that... thing warily for a moment, eyes narrowing in a curious squint.
"Never seen a talkin' head before. How come you ain't dead yet?"
no subject
"I've wondered that myself for years now. Sorry to say, I haven't had much opportunity to seek the answer to that question."
You know, because he's stuck on the ground like this. Unless it's an answer that can be obtained solely through philosophical pondering, it's not really one he's capable of acquiring on his own.
"Tell me, stranger. Does this place hold any familiarity to you? I fear I have been brought a long way from my resting place in the Shaded Wood."
no subject
"No... never seen half this stuff before in my life. Man... they make you sign a contract too?"
no subject
His body isn't as peaceful or as chatty as his head, after all, and he was not a small man when he was whole.
"They seem to think so, at least. I held no pen or paper, though - rather, they shined a strange glowing device into my eye for a moment and claimed that was signature enough."
Which, you know, seemed incredibly strange to him, as someone who had no previous concept of a retinal scan before.
observation deck
"It makes you feel really small, doesn't it?"
As she glances over at him, she pulls her legs in close to her, trying her best to do it decently in a cheerleader skirt. It's most definitely overwhelming to be here and know she's so far away from home and her family, but she's almost able to forget about it up here on the observation deck.
no subject
"Yeah, guess so. I got no idea which way home even is up here." But it's a hell of a long ways off, right?
"They're bringing in cheerleaders now too? Man..."