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» TEST DRIVE #001

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[there's another Strider in the building who had a similar idea, except his own replicator failure was apple flavored. and also, as a time player naturally inclined to brute force something with as many attempts as possible, he tried mashing the buttons on the replicator as many times as he could before the thing gave out.]

[so, more fodder for Can Town. AJ Town? both have a nice ring to it. Dave was on his way out, the building blocks of city hall in his arms, when he spots Dirk.]

[he stops. he freezes. he has two armfuls of dubiously flavored juice.]

[oh ... oh no.]

[Oh no.

It's a dramatic recognition scene. The music stops. They both still. They lock sunglasses.

The boy in front of Dirk might be sixteen years old, in a weird jumpsuit, and holding armfuls of weird juice, but Dirk spent every day of his life seeking that face. There's no way he wouldn't know it.

(the armfuls of juice may actually help)

Shit. Neither of them are talking. Dirk should talk.

What should he say? Think of something cool.]

Hey.

[#nailedit]

[god, even the way Dirk is just standing, even something about his voice, albeit much younger, reminds him so much of his dead (??) bro. it's. not a good hat for Dirk to be wearing.]

[he almost feels like he could be sick. his fight or flight instinct is buzzing high off the echeladder, as it were, but his nerves can't settle on which move to make — so he simply stands there, locked in place, unconsciously gripping a can of juice so hard his knuckles turn white.]

[he has been dreading this for three entire fucking years — and it's for so much more than what he'd ever said out loud, on not being too keen on meeting Dirk. Dave would never, ever admit any of this, but there is still a part of him that would like nothing else but something resembling a normal life, with a normal family. this guy standing there with the weird soda is one of the only shots he has left, and he is so terrified of being let down, he's almost afraid to even try.]

[are they going to fight? should he at least try to leave? if his teenage bro is anything like the one he knows, then wherever he goes doesn't actually matter, does it?]

[Dave swallows hard. it is hard to suss meaning out of his tone when he speaks.]

... Hey.

[They're doing so well.]

Um....

[Dirk can't quite read Dave. That isn't totally fair; Dirk has almost no experience reading people in person. He had six months with his friends and a lifetime with movies and video chat. But the guy he studied for years, he was like a masterclass in impassive genius.

But there's another thing: there's what Dirk wants. And Dirk is wary as all hell of projecting all of that onto someone who has absolutely no obligation to him.]

So.

Yeah.

[Shit. What should he say? What do you do when you meet someone?]

I'm Dirk.

[....]

[He hates himself so much.]

Dave.

[okay, cool, they've gotten the formalities out of the way. Dirk hasn't completely ruined his conversational skills. you know, the ones where he rambles endlessly regardless of who's around, and the ones that have a habit of trending Freudian. so...]

[... so.]

[... ... ...]

[so now what.]

[So.]

So.

Kinda okay aesthetic here. Right?

[fuck]

[...]

Yeah, it's all right I guess. [space starts to feel pretty monotonous after spending three years blasting through it.]

[Dave is still standing there with his massive collection of juice cans like a goddamned idiot. it doesn't occur to him to set them down.]

[...]

[they're not fighting. it's. it's better than nothing?]

[Oh fuck that was a miss. He meant the rusty space station look but clearly that was a stupid comment! Dave hates his aesthetic tastes.

There's no way out of this. Someone's going to have to decapitate him.]

Do you need a hand with the juice cans?

[Wait.

Is that invasive and pushy? Shit.]

You ... want to help me?

[it's incredulous, but he doesn't intend it in a necessarily mean way. it's an offer of help coming from that face, speaking with that near exact cadence — a combination he's never heard before in his life.]

I.... Yes?

[Should he not want to? Did he fuck up? Shit. Shit shit shit.]

[a tiny voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to let his guard down and accept the help.]

[his instincts can't forget history yet. there's a tension in his chest resonating painfully.]

... Why?

[This feels like some kind of trick question here. He can't help but answer it honestly.]

Because... You're holding a lot of cans?

[So someone? should. Help him????]

[the absolute, unabashed sincerity behind that answer throws him off even more, and the tension he had suddenly feels searing, like he'd been stabbed. again.]

[there are no endless layers of irony to try to sort his way through; he doesn't have to spend hours agonizing over what Dirk really meant. he thinks, for a split second, that maybe he can take that answer at face value — that maybe it isn't a trick just to hurt him.]

[Dave doesn't say anything. he is frozen in place, painfully aware of how much time has already ticked by in total silence (infuriatingly, he can never escape time). and then, there's just the tiniest chink in the wall around him — he takes a step closer so that Dirk can take a can or two.]

[he is pretty sure this is going to backfire on him, that he's misread his bro or this teen version of his bro. but the little kid in him that's always been so desperate for a real brother, screaming in the back of his mind, has somehow managed to win for now. for the love of god, Dirk, don't let him down.]

[He doesn't know what he did wrong but he's sure it must be something. He fucked up with Jake. He fucked up with Roxy. He fucked up with Jane. So why wouldn't he fuck up with Dave? it's less than a minute in and the brother he has spent his life waiting for is staring at him like he's some kind of unpleasant alien existence. Maybe he is. Dirk so rarely thinks positively about any version of himself, but maybe the one that raised Dave was as incredible and amazing as the Dave in Dirk's timeline, and Dave can't deal with this awkward letdown of a reiteration. Maybe Dirk is the shittiest Dirk splinter of them all.

Dave moves closer, though. Dirk's spiral stops itself (pauses, really, it's always waiting to keep winding) and he hesitates. Looks at Dave. Then at the cans. Now back at Dave.

Brave as an Old Spice man, Dirk starts grabbing a couple of cans to help Dave with the load.]

[he unconsciously flinches, just slightly, when Dirk reaches in his direction, but — no, he's. actually taking cans. he's doing exactly what he said he'd do. Dave won't let relief wash over him so easily, but it sure as hell is trying to.]

[he should at least say something, he thinks. or maybe start leading the way back to the observation deck, where he had intended to take the cans. you know, to avoid having the both of them stand around with armfuls of cans like goddamned idiots.]

[....]

Thanks. [it's a start.]

[He—he flinched? Dirk can't help but stare. When Dave talks, Dirk lets out an automatic,] No problem.

[But he's still kind of staring. Dave flinched. What caused that? Was it him?]

[it was. but also, more importantly, it wasn't? why are both of their existences so stupidly convoluted.]

[but whether or not he realizes he reacted isn't clear, and whether he's just playing it off or not seeing it at all isn't apparent. he does think, however, that maybe he should explain what he's doing with the cans — at least before Dirk commits to following him down this road of meteor-bred lunacy.]

[(he's not knocking the mayor, mind. he's just aware of how silly this is.)]

... You were. In your session, right?

[This is not a question that relates to can cities, Dave.]

[Dirk isn't sure where this is going. But everything feels so tentative and fragile, so uncertain, he doesn't want to risk shattering anything else.]

Yeah. You guys had gotten here.

[he's getting there. he figures knowledge of Sburb would help; Can Town and the mayor's brilliance is better understood with a clear image of him in one's mind: the chess guy build. the mayoral sash. the penchant for high fives, the knack for sensible city planning and the otherwise completely endearing habit of eating weird shit. the mayor is Dave's best friend.]

Oh. I never saw you. [it comes out something like a question, but maybe not a surprised one. his bro had a habit of disappearing to god knows where for completely random stretches of time, he has no reason to think this one wouldn't be the same way.]

[He doesn't fully understand the extent of that comment. He ends up just explaining the situation.]

The Condesce hijacked Jade and teleported me to the edge of the Furthest Ring. I tried to contact you, but you kept glitching out.

That was you?

[shit. Dirk must have seen what happened when he got back, if he wasn't somehow caught up in all the death and glitches, too. Dave is not about to ask — this entire conversation has been incredibly awkward, downright uncomfortable, but not hostile, or genuinely upsetting. he'd rather not take any risk of it going down that road.]

[and deflection is what he does best.]

Well, did you catch anything I said about The Mayor? That's roundabout what all these cans are for.

Yeah.

[He doesn't know if he should say sorry or not. The name of this mysterious democratically elected manager of a polity serves as a sufficient out from all the complications, so he answers with,]

I caught his name, but not much else.

[bragging on the Mayor is a thousand light years ahead of addressing the issues he'd insist he doesn't have to begin with.]

It's too bad you didn't get to meet him. He's basically the best thing this dumb game ever cooked up for us.

[he turns, ready to lead the way back to the observation deck.]

You know those chess guys? He's one of those, with his "completely awesome" stat jacked up off the charts — something like that, at least. He's been hanging out with us for the past three years.

I didn't realize a Carapacian was able to make it out of your game with you. That's pretty cool.

[A pause because he wants to mention Roxy. Has Dave met Roxy? Does Dave even care about Roxy facts? Shit.

The awkward pause is never unpaused. The awkwardness continues, with Dirk looking like he was going to say something (as he follows Dave to the future can town) but not actually figuring out how to say it.]

[Dave would probably make the whole thing even more awkward by his inability to stop referring to Roxy as mom, honestly. maybe just a normal painfully awkward silence is the better option as they walk, until he goes ahead and breaks it with:]

I'm not sure he was supposed to — he was dead when he first got dropped on the meteor. Some random troll in a dream bubble wound up reviving him.

[once they make it to future Can Town, though, he unceremoniously dumps the cans on the floor.]

Rose kept talking about how the way we were crashing our session into yours was unprecedented. I guess bringing the Mayor was another trail we blazed along the way.

b

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