( tdm 13 )

[hohnkai]

T E S T D R I V E

my evil twin, bad weather friend "I know someday I'll meet him, but I don't know where or when." 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. ) Every day, the ship gets closer to its destination: the Midway Hub. Answers as to how to the fix the broken Ingress and send everyone home are sought there. Your captains, both old and new, have been working together peacefully to make the trip a little easier, though events occur that are well outside of their control. After having made the last cargo supply stop at the Mini Colony, the Moira and its crew are on the last stretch of its journey. The Ingress, for the majority of the time, is left off and only turned back on during testing; that's when new crew and other items come through. It's October on the Moira, and it's been far, far too peaceful.. ☄ older and far less kind get clowned when I come around On one of the ship's many stops, a group of sentient, flying whale-type natives were stumbled upon. They were friendly, although unfortunately hunted for a substance they produce, and the crew paid a group of mercenaries to keep these beings safe. Now, early afternoon, red lights begin to flash, and Captain Ira makes an announcement. A gam of a less advanced sub-species of those gentle giants is in the ship's path, and crew are told to make their way to the Observation Deck, Tower, and anywhere else that affords them a view of space. When the beings move closer to the Moira, the captains send out non-explosive decoys that can be remotely operated by the crew—lead these beings away from the ship so that the Moira can safely pass through. ☄ graveyard smash i was working in the lab, late one night Let's set the scene. It's early in the morning. Those who don't sleep or sleep very little already know what's going on as they've been roped into helping by the Captains. Everyone else wakes to a surprise. Some universes celebrate holidays like Halloween or Samhain, and this one is no different. First Mate Egan's home is known for honoring the dead on October 15th of every year, and after approaching the other Captains, they've decided to celebrate it on the Moira. The observation deck is decorated with candles and lights, music playing in the background. Small gift boxes are left outside everyone's door; a MID message explains that each crew member is to put something inside and then place them on the observation deck. At the end of the day, each crew takes a random box. A device that alters the gravity around a single object is used to make drinks, food, and gifts and float through the air. Everyone is encouraged to relax and have a good time. ☄ section t unfinished business, that's what There are many locations on the ship that are inaccessible, either because they are locked unless crew have clearance or for some an unknown reason. Section T is one of those such areas. Crew are known to get lost in this area, and hear voices, among other things. Having this brought to the Captain's attention, an expedition of sorts ghost hunters in space has been organized, and anyone who wishes to join will be paired up and sent in with their MIDs on alert to track their paths. Not long into the search, it will become clear that something, or someone, is displeased with the large number of people wandering through. Some unlucky crew will stumble across an apparition and those who are luckier won't. It's relatively harmless, and appears to only seek to scare everyone out of Section T. 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

[nightmarist]

Not really.

[He's fine over here, nursing this bottle of whatever.]

Don't hold back on my account. I didn't make them just for you to stare at them.

[heisenbitch]

[ He's back to feeling like an asshole for wanting those smokes so bad after what Ronan did to make them happen. He's also still afraid of him, and pissed off at him for that comment Jesse knows he totally deserves. So, Jesse does nothing but keep staring the cigarettes until the craving for nicotine finally wins over. He pushes himself off the seat and approaches, warily eyeing Ronan. Crouching down, he picks one of the packs up. When he returns to the seat, he turns the pack over in his hands, studying it. Quietly puzzled all over again at how the kid made these appear out of thin air.

Jesse looks up at him, turning the pack over and over in his hands. He can never sit still, not even for five minutes. ]

Why'd you decide to do this? Y'know. [ Gesturing with the packet. Why'd you decide to do this for me, huh? ]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan's appraising eyes settle on Jesse again. He always looks at people for a little too long, stares a little too hard, like he's not only reading the surface but also seeing deeper. Which is nonsense, of course. Psychics exist, but Ronan isn't one of them. It's simply an impression.]

I wanted to see if I could still do it.

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse would have asked why Ronan thought he couldn't, if he wasn't once again being stared at like that. Jesus, it makes Jesse so uneasy, makes him feel like Ronan can see under his skin, can see all the rot and filth and sickness that Jesse is underneath it all.

He focuses on flipping the pack open and inspecting the cigarettes instead, pulling one out, studying it, marvelling it, before pursing it between his lips. He reaches into his hoodie pocket for his lighter and when he lights the tip, he takes a long, deep drag. He slumps back against the seat with his eyes closed like he's savouring every molecule of nicotine filling his lungs. That sadist, Shepard is going to kick his ass for smoking. Whatever. Let her. As he exhales smoke into the air, he brings the cigarette back to his lips for another long drag. His leg has resumed its nervous jiggling, not that Jesse is really aware he's doing it.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, he opens his eyes and says: ]

Man, I haven't had a smoke in over a week. Maybe longer. Who the hell knows how time even works in space.

[ Well. Mr. White would probably know, or at least be able to explain it better than Jesse could ever hope to understand. Jesse quickly takes another long puff. ]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan doesn't have an answer for that. Time is a malleable thing, in his experience. Science can try all it likes, but sometimes the rules just break down and lead to infuriating situations like this one, tearing him away from his world.]

So I take it those turned out okay. No rat poison or anything?

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse's head snaps up off the headrest with eyes setting on Ronan in frozen alarm. They dart to the cigarette, then back to him. Why would he say that?! ]

[nightmarist]

I'm fucking with you.

[heisenbitch]

[ ...Dude. Not funny, yo! And god, that just goes to show how pathetically desperate he was for cigarettes, doesn't it? That he'd light up without even considering this asshole might do something as messed up as that.

Jesse just stares at him, utterly mistrustful. ]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan is just a boy. He's just a teenage boy who's mischievous and likes pulling pranks as much as any of them. It's just that his entire presence is threatening and there's a general aura of danger, danger, danger when he enters a room. It's not his fault. Mostly.]

You're okay. I promise.

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse keeps staring at him, until he eventually, slowly, lifts the cigarette back to his mouth. Takes a far more tentative drag this time. As he exhales, though, through the cloud of smoke, a curt: ]

Dick.

[nightmarist]

[No. Dick is his best friend, Gansey. And Ronan's struck with a pang of longing for him, which draws out a sigh that could almost sound melancholy and isn't at all appropriate to being called names.]

Yeah.

[He takes a sip from his bottle. Here's to forgetting loss.]

[heisenbitch]

[ Slumping back into the seat, Jesse glares at the kid for a moment, still too agitated to pick up on the wistful way Ronan sighs. Testily shaking his head to himself, he looks away. Another drag. At least his heart is starting to calm down a little. Asshole. ]

So, where're you from, anyway? Earth? Or some whacked out, weird ass version of it, at least?

[nightmarist]

[What a complicated question. Ronan doesn't even know how to answer it truthfully.]

Singer's Falls, Virginia.

[But is that the extent of it? Explains his drawling accent, at least.]

[heisenbitch]

[ Shit, he's got nowhere to tap the ash, which is teetering on the end of his cigarette, about to drop off. He looks around quickly, looking for something to tap it into... then decides fuck it, and stretches out his arm to tap the ash on the floor. He'll come back and clean it up later. His eyes shift back on Ronan. ]

And, what - is there like a whole buncha people like you running around? Dreaming up shit? Literally?

[nightmarist]

I don't know.

[Many thieves, one Greywaren. What does that mean?]

I don't know what I am.

[heisenbitch]

[ "Uhhh, try 'a freak'?" Jesse doesn't dare let that slip out of his mouth. Just jiggles his leg while watching Ronan. ]

What d'you mean, you don't know?

[nightmarist]

[Honestly, what kind of question is that to begin with?]

Did your life come with an instruction manual? You ever go around taking a census to figure out how many other Jesses are out there? I mean what I said: I don't know. For all I know, I'm the only one in the world.

[Left. The only one left in the world.]

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse is still unsettled enough by Ronan's little prank that he almost snaps at him. He doesn't, though. He studies Ronan in silence for a moment, then leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and looking down at the cigarette he's fidgeting between his fingers. Ronan may be a creepy asshole freak but he's also just a kid. It's that thought that makes his irritation at Ronan start to fade. ]

That's tough.

[ 'That's a lot for a kid to deal with' is what's implied. ]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan bristles at that. A sympathetic heart-to-heart isn't what he's after. He squares his shoulders and puffs up a little, making himself bigger (though he is already so big).]

It's nothing. Everyone's alone in the world. Most people just don't figure that out.

[heisenbitch]

[ It's not nothing. This kid has an amazing, terrifying gift, and he's apparently the only one of his kind. All alone. That's not nothing. Jesse doesn't miss the bristling tone in the kid's words, though, so Jesse keeps that thought to himself.

He lifts his eyes back up to Ronan. Said in a somewhat sarcastic tone, something he's figured out the kid is far more comfortable with: ]

Well, at least the attitude's making a whole lot more sense now.

[nightmarist]

[Ronan is unfazed by that. No nerve to strike there, really. He's perfectly aware that he's an asshole. Almost as if he does it on purpose. Jesse is right on the mark: Sarcasm is his most comfortable form of expression.]

Is everyone here usually thrilled about being kidnapped by fairies?

[heisenbitch]

[ Not even looking to strike a nerve, Jesse is just as unfazed by Ronan's lack of reaction to that. Maybe that's because Jesse can hardly hold a torch when it comes to pointing out where someone else is an asshole. Maybe it's because he's starting to understand why Ronan acts the way he does. Maybe it's also because he kind of empathises, even sees a bit of himself in that. ]

Thrilled? [ Not a subject change he expects but he rolls with it. ] Oh yeah. Totally. Yeah, I almost wet myself with excitement when I found myself kidnapped onto an alien spaceship.

[ A show of hands like, "duh, bro, of course not" before he's taking another drag of the cigarette.]

[nightmarist]

So my attitude's par for the course, really.

[Ronan sits back and tips the bottle to his lips. Glug, glug, glug. Wash away the feelings and the knowledge that he'll never return home again. In the quickening haze of drunkenness, a memory comes to him and he repeats it out loud:]

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside...

[It always sounded better coming from his father, with that Irish accent of his. Less charming with Ronan's vaguely Appalachian twang. Not to mention that everything out of Ronan's mouth sounds ominous and threatening. Even poetry.]

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse isn't going to argue with that. He wasn't exactly friendly when he first wound up here. If anything, being stuck here has made him even less friendlier the more time goes on.

Goddamn, but this kid is creepy. The way he recites that poem - Jesse is back to feeling a little unnerved again. He tries not to show it, though: ]

Poetry? That's kinda gay, yo.

[nightmarist]

Really? Is it?

[Ronan doesn't sound offended. Jesse's opinion, in fact, means nothing to him. And that's his tone: pure indifference.]

How do you know? Is it turning you on? Is that what's gay about it?