» TEST DRIVE #001

[reveriemod]

TEST DRIVE #001

( 0 0 1 ) » WAKE UP

Were you asleep or were you unconscious? It doesn't matter: when you come to, there's an odd taste in your mouth and there's a low-level mechanical hum in the air. Your head hurts and you feel nauseous. You aren't anywhere you know: everything around you is metal, from the floor you lie on all the way to the ceiling. You are dressed in a jumpsuit you definitely weren't wearing before.

"We tried to save the world. I think— I think we did the opposite."

The message repeats on a loop. If you look for its source, you find a comms device on the floor next to you. The logo on its wallpaper says REVERIE TERMINAL. Upon closer inspection, you find the same logo on your jumpsuit.

Welcome to your new home. What choice do you have but to explore your surroundings?

( 0 0 1 . 1 ) » WAKE UP WHERE?

When you wake up, you find that you're not alone. But more importantly, you find that you're in a closet. An empty closet, bar you and your new companion. It's small, cramped, and there is no door that you can see. The ceiling is low, there is barely any lights, only some coming from the tiny flashlight clipped to your suit's shoulder. You cannot be sure that there is any air coming in to the room.

Are these grooves in the wall supposed to mean something?

( 0 0 2 ) » OBSERVATION DECK

There were no windows in the corridor you woke up in and no windows in any of the crew quarters you might have checked for occupants — but there are plenty of windows on the uppermost level of the station, deck 1. In fact, there are windows from floor to ceiling all along the circumference of the station's circular deck, and it's possible to walk along it all. What it shows is a strange solar system you've never seen before and a planet that might resemble one you know, but certainly isn't the same.

You're in space. You don't know where you are. Neither does anyone else.

( 0 0 3 ) » BAR

On deck 3, you find the bar. Tucked away from the crew quarters, it's dimly lit, there are bar stools thrown down on the floor and what looks like some very old drink spills, crusty and dark against the bar top. But there is alcohol here, or at least, what you think is alcohol, in bottles with faded labels, most of them indecipherable. Take a drink, get drunk, start a fight, or start a party? You're stuck on this station, might as well make the most of it, right?

( 0 0 3 . 1 ) » VIRTUAL

But the alcohol isn't even the most interesting part of your discovery (depending on who you are, of course). No, what catches your interest is a second, smaller room off from the main bar room, which looks to be some kind of arcade. There are a few VR sets lined up against one of the walls, and surely, they can't be working, right? Nothing is on this rust bucket. And yet, if you put it on, the display comes to life.

It's a pretty simple HUD, and when you move around in reality, you move around in the virtual world you've just entered. It's a luxurious world, full of brightly, saturated colors, making it just a little obvious that it isn't real. Ahead, there is a jungle, a temple, and a city. You can play around, slay some monsters, have some fun, but you can feel yourself growing hot, like the VR helmet is burning your forehead.

And when you try to take it off, you find that you can't. The HUD glitches, the sound cuts off to a blaring alarm, and an error message appears, in glowing, blinking red letters: FINISH THE MISSION. Will you, despite not knowing what the mission even is, or will you fight to get the helmet off?

( 0 0 4 ) » MALFUNCTIONS

(cw: body horror, bodily functions, gore, blood, death)

The fabricators function well enough, until they don't. One day, one moment, everything's all right — the food doesn't generally taste amazing and sometimes downright awful, but it's nourishing and filling no matter what your dietary needs — and the next, things go a little haywire.

In short, the fabricators are malfunctioning.

Oh, they're still producing food that looks and tastes much the same as before, but now there are some unexpected side effects.

NB: Characters may experience any of the following side effects: nausea ranging from slight to debilitating, the sensation of being happily and affectionately — but not overwhelmingly — drunk, bone-deep exhaustion and weariness that makes it hard to move, or repeated hallucinations of loved ones screaming for help, reaching out to characters and leading them down abandoned corridors or being killed by unseen forces.

The extent to which characters are affected is up to players, as is whether you'd prefer to play this more lightheartedly or tackling more serious themes. If the latter, please provide warnings in subject lines where necessary.

( 0 0 5 ) » NETWORK

The comms device you found next to you when waking up connects to a station-wide network, REVERIE NET. You have the option to post video, voice or text messages.

What will you share?

( 0 0 5 . 1 ) » NETWORK USERNAME

When you first turn on your communication device, it requests for you to pick a username to identify you on the network. It can be anything you want. However, as you try to input a username in your wristband to access the network, you get the following message, along with a small, but irritating, warming sound:

this username is already in use.

What does this mean? Is there other people around? Were there other people around?

( 0 0 6 ) » WILDCARD

The station features a variety of locations, from sleeping quarters free for the claiming to a dirty swimming pool and a bar that still holds alcohol (though some of the bottles seem to have been opened a while ago).

Go wild, but don't wreck the place. It's your home for the foreseeable future, after all.

Comments

bucky barnes, mcu.

[foes]

( 0 0 4 ) » MALFUNCTIONS

[ the bench beneath him is cold, sterile... metal. a half-finished fabricator meal, some sort of bland, unrecognizable mush meant to pass for oatmeal, sits pushed away and slightly askew in front of bucky, done in a rush.

no. wait.

the bench beneath him is cold, dirty... stone. it sits atop a hill between a copse of naked trees, simultaneously the best vantage point and the best cover available to him. he kneels behind it, elbows braced over the flat surface, looking through his scope. the rifle is aimed down at an expanse of road that hugs a curve around the foot of the great hill.

the smooth cr-cr-cr-cr-rrrrrunch of tires rounding the bend on damp winter asphalt echoes across the little valley before the car moves into view, no foliage on bare branches to absorb the sound. it's coming quickly, a little too quickly for the curve — the driver is in a hurry — and dancing white flurries obscure the target momentarily, but he is unconcerned.

he won't miss.
he never misses—

one metal arm grips the edge of the mess hall table. it starts to shake. ]

( 0 0 5 ) » NETWORK

[ bucky spends a significant amount of time scanning the network for past messages, looking for anything he might recognize: a name, a location, even a turn of phrase.

nothing.

he flips his communicator open to type out his own message, finally: ]

UN: barnes
scouting for crew maps that may have been left behind. something to indicate what's behind these locked doors.
contact me if you spot anything useful. willing to work together.

[ well, that's not exactly true, but it's better for information fishing. ]

004.

[oddbod]

Hey. [There's a shout, and the scuffle of quick footsteps, before a hand lands on Bucky's shoulder.] You alright? You with me?

[As one of a minority unaffected by the poisonings, Clara has been scurrying around the station, trying to make herself useful to those in need. She's seen nausea and vomiting and confusion, but she hasn't seen... table clenching. Is he in pain?]

[foes]

[ he doesn't hear the sounds skirting by him, the footsteps or the voice, sharp and concerned, in his ear. but he does feel that hand on his shoulder, and the result is both immediate and regrettable.

bucky's whole spine feels electrified as nerves fire all along the cord, signaling the need to defend, disarm, destroy. he jerks out of his seat, instantly on his feet, and darts low to twist clara's arm behind her back — he's ready to slam her into a tree trunk when suddenly the trees around him fade from view... the snow flurries melt away... the hill, itself, ripples out into nothing and he's standing confused in the middle of a cafeteria with a tiny young woman caught in his grip.

he jumps back, releasing her as if burned, and the panic shows in the whites of his eyes. his heart hammers erratically in his chest; it had all taken no more than four seconds from the time he'd touched her to when he let her go.

might as well have been a year's worth of misdeeds. ]

...Shit. Shit— I'm. I'm sorry.

[ his voice is a hoarse rasp. ]

[oddbod]

[Clara grabs her wrist, chest heaving with breaths she doesn't need, trying her best to keep calm and steady as the aggression fades from the man's stance. The panic in his eyes strikes guilt in her own, and she shakes her head.]

It's alright. You're fine. [Soft, soothing.] I shouldn't have surprised you.

[She had assumed he was sick from the food, but this looks like something entirely different; she's familiar enough with PTSD to recognize a flashback. Making slow, quiet movements, she holds up her arm.]

You didn't hurt me, see? It's okay.

[foes]

Not... not your fault.

[ he glances over her arm; not hurt, she says, but he's already imagining the mark left under her sleeve. bucky shakes his head and turns a darting gaze back up to her face; her eyes are so kind. it's undeserved. he doesn't dare move closer to get a better vantage point of her state of injury. ]

You should still have that looked at. Maybe there's a doctor type on board.

malfunctions

[catastrophics]

[ wanda's spent too many nights going hungry after hunting for food those first few years after losing their parents to feel good about wasting it, but she finds herself unable to finish her meal. maybe she'd tried eating too fast, maybe she just wasn't as hungry as she'd thought she'd been, but every bite she'd attempted after finishing the first half of what she'd eaten just made her feel worse.

she's depositing the rest of it and the tray when she spots barnes, seated by himself at a table. which wouldn't be unusual, except even from a distance she notices (or maybe feels) how tightly he's gripping the table, the slight tremor in his arm that transitions to it. she starts to approach, moving into his line of sight so that her addressing him won't be as much of a shock, and then, for a split second, she gets a glimpse of what he's seeing.

winter. snow lightly falling, trying to find cover among trees bare of leaves, a car moving too fast around the curve of a road.

it's not the first time she's viewed hallucinations as vividly as when she's caused them, but this wasn't one she'd orchestrated and it leaves her feeling off-kilter as she comes back to herself, drawing in a breath in a sharp gasp. she feels twice as uneasy now, the comparatively mild nausea from before now churning the contents of her stomach that much faster. it reminds her of strucker's first experiments, how she couldn't tell which voices belonged to who, if the people around her were speaking or thinking, if the nightmares she was having were her own or her brother's.

she takes another deep breath and exhales it slowly before taking another few steps closer. it's not going to be good if they're both unable to handle whatever's happening. ]

Bucky?

[foes]

[ the presence entering his vicinity is a familiar one. more than that, something kin. traumas and staccato heartbeats bleed together, the reticence bred of stolen best years. something about this recognition penetrates the memory, so tangible now around him, until it's filled with tremors. the landscape before him ripples in and out, like heat rising over asphalt on a summer day.

between the trees he sees her, approaching fluidly like a wood wraith. he knows her. the witch. she's steve's, his family. they fought side by side at the airport. he remembers how steve looked that day, heartsick but determined to strike at his own team, his friends, all for him.

no. he hasn't seen steve since the train. he's reaching for him, falling— ]

...Help.

[ the word barely makes a sound past his lips. he sees her, and he doesn't. ]

[catastrophics]

[ help. whether he speaks it out loud or just thinks it doesn't matter. wanda makes it over to him as fast as she can, which doesn't feel quite fast enough, and she's not sure anymore if that's because something's wrong with him or with her. she still feels sick, the ground unsteady beneath her feet and causing her to stumble a bit in her steps toward him. but whether it's him or her doesn't matter, either; as far as she's concerned it's both their problems.

she comes to sit in front of him at the table, not wanting to move too far to his side or behind him. even if he doesn't see her, keeping her in his sight might help ground him, might keep whatever he's seeing from becoming more vivid than reality. ]

Bucky. [ she speaks out loud but keeps her voice low, focused on him. she's not sure if he knows she's there. ] It's Wanda. Can you hear me?

[foes]

Wanda, [ he repeats, slowly, quietly. he nods his head. his vision blurs, recalibrates. there are trees before him, and then only a dancing flame shaped like a girl. ] I see you all in red.

004. (CW: Child death)

[magneticfields]

[ The food is adequate. At least on a nutritional level. The coffee doesn't even have that going for it, so Erik is trying to satisfy himself with the fact that it is hot, at least. The man he is sharing a table with is quiet, which Erik appreciates. He's not interested in befriending anybody here. He wants to leave as soon as possible.

The number of reasons for wanting to leave are myriad, not least of which is the fact that his daughter is sitting next to him, a bloody arrow sticking out of her chest, weeping quietly. And he can't leave the mess hall because his wife is outside the door, waiting in the hall to scream at him every time he ventures out.

His eyebrows lift as the table starts to shake. He lifts his cup of coffee to keep it from spilling and places his other hand flat on the table. The shaking stills, and Erik realizes that he had neglected to notice something quite significant about the other man's anatomy. ]

Is the oatmeal that bad? [ He asks, tone dry. ]

[foes]

[ when the table stills beneath his grip, the stillness bleeds into him — slow, quiet, in waves. his breathing levels out. he's still on the hill, but a man is there now, to his right, seated against a tree. at erik's remark, he frowns down at the bowl of mush sitting next to his rifle.

nothing makes sense, except that— ]

Yes. It's bad.

[magneticfields]

[ Erik doesn't know this man, and it's entirely possible that his action could only upset him further.But for once, luck seems to be on his side. The man calms down enough that he doesn't have to exert as much force to keep the table from shaking. ]

Papa, it hurts!

[ Erik wipes his mouth with a napkin. ]

Care for a walk? The mess hall is feeling a bit confining to me.

[foes]

Not much place to go except down the road...

[ it comes out so calm, tranquil. blissfully matter of fact. he places his arm by the bowl; slides it off the table... the bench... it clatters down, hitting both steel floor and snowy ground, then it's gone. he glances back up at erik. ]

Never seen so many trees in a mess hall before.

005 » un: mag

[spinals]

hi!! that's a really good idea
with the maps i mean
but i haven't found any

i did find a swimming pool though?

[foes]

a swimming pool? tell me, is it chlorine, or — something else?

[spinals]

it's water??
i think
i didn't go in it looked dirty

un: ripley

[retund]

Lieutenant Ellen Ripley of the USCSS Nostromo and the USS Sulaco reporting.
Good plan, barnes. [ if that's even his name. ] I'll do the same.

[ she hesitates, but then — ]

Keep an eye out for residue: Any type of acidic substance that seems to have eaten through the ship.
If you find any of it, put out an alert and run.

[ hello, it's the official representative of empty spaceship hell reporting for duty. ]

just screams into my hands nbd

[foes]

lieutenant. good to have you.

[ that warning sounds... too severe to just leave it be. ]

have you seen anything like that on deck so far?

in space NO ONE CAN YOU HEAR YOU SCREAM

[retund]

[ the good to have you is unexpected. huh. ]

Not yet, but not all areas seem to be accessible.
It's been an issue on previous ships.

[ to put it mildly. ]

004

[subplot]

[Karen's sitting nearby, not eating whatever it is that's in front of her. She's starving, but the food is so unappetizing that it makes her sick. So she sits there and just watches and observes others. When she hears someone starting to cause a disturbance, she keeps staring straight on ahead. The smart thing to do would be to push away her fabricator created meal and get the hell out of there. But Karen Page isn't necessarily out to do the smart thing. She's out to do what she perceives as being the right thing.

She pushes her meal aside and gets up to turn and observe the commotion. It's a man who seems like he's not doing well, gripping at the table like it's an anchor keeping him grounded. Frowning in concern, she makes her way over. Her hand goes to his shoulder, but she's ready to jump back to avoid being hit if need be.]

You look like you could use some help.

[foes]

[ he feels that gentle hand and wonders what his sister is doing here, out in the snow on such a lonely hilltop. little christine, always wanting to play with the boys (bucky, always letting her).

he turns toward her, but he can't quite make out her face. it's obscured by flurries. ]

Chrissy, get back inside. Mom'll kill you if you catch pneumonia and die.

[ he smiles a little wryly, knowing the irony of the joke would make her laugh most days. but in the next moment, he faces forward again, aiming the rifle. ]

[subplot]

[So, this sure is something. Karen stares in a mixture of confusion and dread, because she really has no idea how in the fuck she should handle this. After a quick three second debate on whether or not she should walk away (the smart thing to do) or stick around and talk him through this, she opts to slide a hand down along his arm toward his hand.

Tactile diversion is always safe, right?]

I think I'll be safe here.

[It's only the cold expanse of space they have to worry about.]

Do you know where we are?

[unshielding]

[ Steve barely has a moment to see that Bucky's here at all before the man's gripping the table like he's about to break a chunk of it off. He drops his own food on the nearest table, forgotten, and moves quickly around furniture and people to get to Bucky's side. ]

Buck! Hey, look at me. What's wrong?

[ He places a firm hand on Bucky's shoulder, just above the joint where he knows flesh gives way to metal. ]

[foes]

[ the familiar voice cuts through his poorly stitched memories, from one patchwork piece to the next, and he falters.

steve.

steve's using a trash can lid like a shield, steve's arguing with him over shipping off, steve's there with him at the front and so tall, steve's his captain and he's a commando, he's—

—he's falling from a train, or a helicarrier, or...

he looks up at his friend, panicked. ]

Don't let go, Steve.

[unshielding]

[ Steve's hand squeezes Bucky's shoulder a little tighter, maybe even a little painfully so. He doesn't know what's wrong and even after finding Bucky again, nothing has managed to feel entirely stable and real between them. Steve can't let anything happen to him. He's failed Bucky too much as it is. ]

I'm not. I'm not going anywhere. Look at me.

[ He leans down until their faces are close and he can look right in Bucky's eyes. ]

I've got you. Focus on me. What's wrong?