( tdm 12 )

[hownkai]

T E S T D R I V E

leavin’ on a jet plane "Don’t know when I’ll be back again." ABOARD THE MOIRA The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences 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 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 from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay. Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters. 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. You may notice a slight change in the artificial gravity every once in awhile; however, more noticeable changes can be found in overall morale of those of the crew. ☄ on your own There 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. ) The day begins normally. Or almost. The Moira has accidentally fallen along the trajectory of an asteroid barreling its way through space. While most things like this are not uncommon, and the ship is far from any potential danger of collision or risk of debris damaging the exterior, there is something particularly odd about this specific occurrence. The rock itself appears to give off a strange light that is both eerie and alive. Often, if looked at in just the right manner, it will shift colors; so, while one person sees one side of the spectrum, someone else could see something entirely different. At first, things continue on as they usually do aside from the glowing asteroid alongside the Moira, but as the hours go on, that does not seem to be the case. ☄ the hours are breathing resignedly beneath the sky the melancholy waters lie With a rather open view of stars and space, thanks to the skylight above, the pool in the rec area suddenly comes alive beneath the light of the asteroid filtering in. Perhaps it’s some natural response to the chemical composition of the water, or perhaps it’s magic. Yet, regardless of the explanation, those who happen to take a dip suddenly find themselves plagued by despair. The depression and melancholy are not subtle changes either; it slams into you with great force, like a punch to the gut. The longer you remain in the pool, the deeper it grows, like an all-consuming paranoia that settles into the back of your mind and causes your heart to grow heavy. These strong feelings will eventually fade if you choose to leave the pool and dry off, but as long as you remain damp from the pool, those emotions will continue to linger. Even after you’re completely dry, there will be no mistaking just how intensely you felt or why. There is no explanation and might not be. Would you dare a second swim to test whether or not it was a fluke? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ those who have crossed the eyes are not here, there are no eyes here The walls are shrinking in. Every room you step into feels much too small, like there isn’t enough room to even breathe. A crowded place becomes startlingly empty, and no matter how much you run, how much you explore, there is no one there to comfort you or answer your calls for help. Hallucinations run strong between the lulls of obscene loneliness or claustrophobia, and exposure to the glow of the asteroid is really the only thing to thank for that. You’re desperate to claw your way out of the ship—open the emergency hatch in the Cargo Bay, bust the glass of the Observation Deck. What’s worse is that it’s not just you. It’s catching, and the fear of being next is very real. It feels like you’re being watched, that everyone around you is looking and seeing everything you are. Or are not. The only way to make it stop is to admit that you’re afraid of being seen, but who, in the deep madness of the self, has the courage to ever admit the truth? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) ☄ the sun in flight rage, rage against the dying of the light Something has drifted its way onto the Moira from the outside. Unlike the faint luminosity they give off, they suck up all the light around them, making them the only source to see by. From far away, they are just flitting balls of light, but if you get close enough to inspect them, they are mean. And have sharp, sharp teeth. Go poking, and they will bite you before trying to fly away while taking that only light source with them. The option to avoid them is quite easy if you’re not the curious sort, but without them around, it will be impossibly dark. As the asteroid moves on in the opposite direction of the Moira, these light creatures begin to dissolve and fade away with it. However, a word of caution: their bites glow. If you don’t manage to find the one that bit you and capture it between your hands, the bite will become a permanent glowing fixture of your body. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. ) OUT OF CHARACTER INFO FAQ | LOCATIONS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS | NAVIGATION For mature or graphic content, please label. For questions, please direct them to the FAQ. As always, be kind and have fun!

Comments

garden

[disarmin]

[Armin is not far from where she's examining the tree from the railing. There's a sort of stifled feeling about the air on this ship he can't shake. Claustrophobic. It's not as bad in here, probably because of the tree's potential to generate oxygen, but he still dislikes it. To him, no amount of artificial light can replace the sun. The fact they're literally in the sky can't replace the feeling of the sky. It seems like his life is nothing but a series of prisons, and this one is only marginally different.

He reached out to pull a leaf from the tree's branch. Just one, not enough to hurt it, so he can look at the veins.]

They must have some way of fertilizing all the plants. Recycled waste, perhaps? But that seems like it would require a lot of energy to do safely...

[greyate]

[ She looks up at the movement, watching him look at the leaves and then reaches out to touche the closest leaves. She doesn't pull them from the tree, however. She reaches out with her powers briefly but doesn't seem to feel anything else from the tree when she touches it. It's just... a tree.

Leaning back from the railing, ]

On top of using other resources.

[ Like water. She can't imagine it's easy to come by in space unless they have a special way they collect it. ]

But they seem to have pretty advanced technology...

[ Looking up into the branches, ]

Either way, they manage to pull it off.

[disarmin]

It truly is impressive how far humanity can advance, given the right parameters. And yet they are enslaving us. So I suppose in some ways people are the same as they ever were.

[Armin sniffs at the leaf. It really seems just like a leaf. Nothing tremendously out of place about it. Still, it's nice to touch something that feels like nature against all these white, sterile walls.]

My name is Armin.

[greyate]

[ Her brow creases at that remark. She turns toward him and takes a step closer. ]

Jean.

[ Then, ]

What do you mean "enslaving us"?

[disarmin]

Jean. One of my boy-- one of my best friends is named Jean. [Pronounced differently, what someone had once said is the 'French' way, more like John. Armin pulls in a breath, hating the reality of his own words. When will he ever seen his cranky, rude, strong, beautiful Jean again?] Is... was.

Think about it. We've been brought here against our will. We must work for them and follow their rules, or we will - what? Be imprisoned, or left behind so far from anything we know we could never return to our lives. They may paint it as a cooperative effort, say they are trying to get us home once we help them achieve their goals, but it seems like slavery to me. Not the worst kind there is, certainly, from the looks of it, but we are far from free.



((ooc: Armin is a CRAU so has some different history/relationships than in canon.))

[greyate]

[ She notes the past tense he uses and can feel a mixture of emotions coming off of him. She doesn't understand it all, doesn't read any of his thoughts, but it's enough to make her expression soften somewhat. ]

I think "slavery" is a harsh way to put it. And might not be the case at all. We've only just arrived. We don't know what it's going to be like.

[disarmin]

[Armin furrows his brow, but mostly contains the flash of suspicion and frustration he feels. The thing is, he does know. As far as he's concerned, this situation is just continuing the same entrapment he's fought all his life. In the back of his mind he's relieved to be away from where he was before, this place seems a lot safer and calmer, but he hates himself for that, too. Hates being put in the situation where anyone's prison might still seem the lesser of two (or three) evils.]

I... hope you're right, and I'm wrong. [Armin says, carefully choosing his words.] It wouldn't be so bad to explore far-off worlds.

[greyate]

[ She feels the frustration. It's more intense than her own, even. It's why she continues to not let her own show. ]

If it's any consolation, I hope I'm right, too. I don't know if I am but I'd rather hope for the best than scare myself.

[disarmin]

I'm not that scared.

[This is not the petulant protest of a boy who's trying to appear brave. Armin is a little frightened and he admits it. This situation is new and he's been ripped from his whole life and the people he loves again and he doesn't understand the way this place works yet. Maybe he's wrong to assume it's the same as the places he's been before, he can't discount that he might be making a wrong presumption. But more than anything, he's determined to survive. He's disgusted and frustrated and from those feelings come fierceness.

He's been through too much to let this place defeat him. Even if he's so alone he wants to throw himself out of one of those - what are they called? - airlocks. He never will, because he has to fight.]

I'm just trying to think ahead and be realistic. They're giving us a lot of awesome things, opportunities, new technologies. But no one would do all that without wanting something explicit in return - without expecting our loyalty and compliance. Hoping for the best is okay as long as it doesn't lead to complacency, but... not imagining the worst means you might not have a plan for it when it happens.

[And that's Armin. His ability to catastrophize means he has a contingency plan for every possible disaster. It's absolutely a form of anxiety, a symptom of his PTSD, but the truth of it is it's saved his life, and many others, too many times to let it go. Plan for the worst, because it's always around the corner. That his technique as a tactician.]

And as bad as I've heard it gets around here, that means people can and probably will die.