» 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

kylo ren ⋆ star wars

[warfares]

( 0 0 1 ) » OBSERVATION DECK

[ On the Observation Deck, what relief he’d allowed himself to feel following his breaking out of one of the tiny metal closets – an experience that had been more harrowing than he’d care to admit, reminding him why he loathed confined spaces – had been replaced by frustrated silence.

Kylo Ren stands, arms folded across his chest, and stares out at the planet like it had just insulted his mother. ]

Must be the Unknown Regions, [ his thoughts roll back to Crait, an insignificant speck of a planet that wouldn’t draw much notice unless you really knew to look for it, implying that whoever is responsible for his relocation – no small feat, to pluck a man from the middle of an armed escort – must have sought him out directly in some way. A worrying thought. ] I don't recognize any of these constellations.


( 0 0 2 ) » BAR

[ None of the vintages are especially familiar, not that that says much. He's never been much of a drinker, but the headache he's had since waking hasn't abated and he is in sore need of something to take the edge off. ]

Which of these is least likely to rot my stomach lining?


( 0 0 3 ) » NETWORK

( un: socorro )

Does anyone know where I can find tools?


( 0 0 4 ) » WILDCARD

[ Choose your own adventure! Or feel free to hit me up at resurrectionist for plotting and such! ]

01.

[purpose]

[ If his silhouette — broad, and now too familiar for her to mistake — hadn't alerted her to who, precisely, has joined her on this voyage, the affronted expression likely would have had the same effect.

Part of her thinks it must be a hallucination, the connection between them snapping back open despite her attempts to close the door on him, figuratively and literally. Or perhaps it's more apt to say part of her wants to believe it must be a hallucination, if only to make this simpler, easier on herself.

But he's here, flesh and blood. His observations of his surroundings confirm it, seeing it through his own eyes, and Rey can only allow her breath to hitch and her eyes to bore into the back of his head. ]

It isn't, [ she says, finally, when the silence has become so stifling that it feels like she's suffocating on it. ] Does it feel like the Unknown Regions to you?

[ For as little knowledge as she has in regard to their current circumstances, that doesn't stop the slightly imperious edge to her entirely rhetorical question. ]

[warfares]

[ His expression flickers briefly, faltering, the resolves into something impassive. ]

No, [ comes the answer finally, and he turns just slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of her, before his attention shifts back to the window. ] Though it must be.

[ Beneath the veneer of calm, he is a churning storm of emotion; angry, confused, filled with a strange giddy sort of relief in seeing a familiar face (her face) when he'd begun to wonder if he would encounter anyone on this star's forsaken junkheap. ]

[purpose]

The moons aren't like any I've seen before, [ she points out slowly, eyes fixated on his expression, searching for — something. From the disappointment that briefly bubbles through her despite her unwavering stare (confused, apprehensive, melancholic beneath the kneejerk bitterness), it's clear she hasn't found it.

On the contrary, there isn't much she has seen beyond Jakku. Old star charts could only educate her so far, after all; as if she's suddenly become aware he could retort with that same argument, she plows ahead without waiting. ]

You know this isn't — [ she falters around the word for what it implies, what it contains. ] — home.

[warfares]

That doesn't mean much, [ it's murmured, lacking in any real venom; she has a point, of course, but he isn't ready to accept it just yet, his mind too busy ticking over the possibilities. ]

Nobody has attempted to map the Unknown Regions since the days of the Empire. This could be one of their outposts.

[purpose]

[ Her eyes narrow briefly at his muttering, but her exhaustion squashes any indignation that wants to rise in response. ]

And they chose to kidnap the both of us?

[ It seems nonsensical, but there is a wariness to the question she poses — almost cautious. It isn't the First Order, then, and she wouldn't suspect the Resistance of attempting such a thing, but the implication that someone knows of their familiarity with one another as more than two opposing Force-users is worrying. ]

No one knows about the connection we shared. They'd have no reason.

[ Shared, past tense as a reminder to herself. Ben Solo hadn't returned with her, and wouldn't; distancing herself from whatever camaraderie they had shared is its own self-preservation technique. ]

[warfares]

Leaving aside the fact that whatever survived the Empire's fall was absorbed into the First Order years agoㅡ [ he waves a hand, more of a general encompassing gesture than drawing attention to anything specific, ] if they were responsible, I doubt they would risk our regaining consciousness so quickly.

[ "Quickly" being relative in this case. He still hadn't managed to figure out just how much time had elapsed and whether or not it was in any way relevant. ]

Mind you, I'd like to think they would have at least stuck me in a cell over the glorified closet I woke up in.

1

[merging]

[Guys wearing all black talking to themselves are usually bad news. But one, he's using familiar terms and two, Ezra doesn't care.]

Either that or Wild Space.

[He says as he approaches from behind. Without anything to place them, it's hard to make any guesses as to where they are. But that's exactly the same situation he had been in before this, so it doesn't seem to bug him much. Although he had chosen that for himself and this is... really out of his control. Still, being able to talk to people other than Thrawn is a definite plus.]

Where were you before all this? Or where are you from? Or both. Both are good?

[warfares]

Crait, [ comes the response, the delay long enough to suggest surprise to encounter someone that has any idea what he's talking about.

He doesn't expand on the answer — though anyone with even a passing familiarity with the place will know it's unlikely to be anyone's homeworld. ]

You?

[merging]

[There's a rebel cell on Crait, and that's all that's there as far as he knows. While he hasn't heard much about them lately, he doesn't think they've been found by the Empire. Still, it might be too risky to outright ask about it.]

Not sure. Somewhere else in Wild Space. Or the Unknown Regions. I was still figuring it out, honestly.

But I'm from Lothal originally. Still Outer Rim, but not quite as out there as Crait.

» bar

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ Rogue looks up from where she's been nursing a very full glass of amber liquid, dark green jumpsuit-covered arms propped on the bar a few seats away. Leaning forward a bit, she peers at the collection of bottles, particularly the opens one she's already examined. A half-full tall bottle is plucked from the group and set on the bar between them. ]

There still might be some rotting, but it's the smoothest of the lot. [ Her warning is softened by the smooth rounded syllables of a southern drawl, and punctuated by a sip from her own drink. ]

[warfares]

[ It's a good thing he's not drinking for enjoyment, he thinks, picking up the bottle and turning it over in his hands. The label is worn, its lettering faded with time.

He looks back at Rogue, ] Is this what you're having?

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ None of the alcohol in the bar is at all enjoyable, but it'll get the job done. With a shake of her head, she reaches for a different bottle, more squat than the first, and sets it on the bar as well. ]

It's got a bit more bite to it, and a lot more burn. [ Clearly she's not worried about rotting her own stomach. ]

[warfares]

[ Dark brows lift slightly, though the corners of his mouth quirk in an almost smile. ]

Gets the job done, though.

[ The bottle is set back down on the counter with a click!

Finding a glass is the next on the list of priorities; the bar is in a decent state of repair, all things considered, but it looks like someone hasn't taken a cloth to anything in at least a decade. ]

Have you been here long?

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ The feeling of warm cotton wrapped around her can attest to how good it's getting the job done. She's doing her best to pace herself, but not having had alcohol in years means her tolerance is nothing like it used to be. ]

Here in the bar? [ She quirks a questioning eyebrow at him, gesturing to their surroundings. ] About an hour, I think. Here on the station? A couple hours more. You?

[warfares]

Sounds about right. [ He envies her that feeling, honestly; adrenaline from breaking out of the closet earlier still burning through him.

He looks back at the bottle, debating whether or not he'd be willing to just go without the glass. It's certainly tempting. ]

I'd like to speak to someone about what they feel passes for adequate accommodation.

( 0 0 1 )

[possidetur]

Have you ever seen them so close before?

( vanessa also doesn't recognise the constellations though she wouldn't say that she is particularly well versed in them. having a conversation, even though it could delve into the unknown, distracts her momentarily for how out of place she feels. the station itself looks so unfamiliar, full of metal and strange mechanisms, and the concept of being in space itself-- she relishes the distraction )

[warfares]

Yes.

[ Not these stars, perhaps, but he'd spent enough time traveling the length of space that the sight (impressive as it is) doesn't move him quite in the same way.

He turns to look at her, head canting. ]

Though I've not had much opportunity to admire them like this.

[possidetur]

And what do you think of them now?

( she takes a step closer, fingertips grazing across the glass. her gaze turns from him, examining the constellations more )

bar

[subplot]

[Karen isn't exactly an expert on drinking, but she's tasted a few things so far. She's good at having an opinion though, and is even better at sharing it. So his question seems like an open invitation to share her thoughts. There's a few bottles sitting in front of her, and she passes one filled with amber colored alcohol down toward him.]

I'm still waiting for a verdict on what the long term effects are like, but this one is the smoothest going down.

[warfares]

[ He takes the bottle, turning it around in his hands to study it. ]

Is this what you're having?

[subplot]

Trying to.

[An empty glass is slid his way next, so he doesn't try drinking straight from the bottle.]

I'm still not sure it's a great idea, but desperate times...

[There's a shrug, and she takes another drink.]

[warfares]

[ He huffs a soft, amused noise as he reaches for the glass. ]

Desperate times, indeed. [ he agrees, pouring out a decent amount of alcohol and then holding up the glass in a toast. ]

Oya. [ then, throwing it back with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. It burns going down, but it's the kind of burn that chases away the lingering twinges of adrenaline fatigue and nausea. Worth it. ]

HELLO AGAIN - bar!

[setpoint]

[Mako is looking at the bottles almost disapprovingly, something vaguely disgusted in her expression. How long have these bottles been here? What are they?]

I don't think you'll be safe with any of them.

[warfares]

Just as well that I'm not planning to drink for enjoyment, [ comes the response, fingers moving over the row of brightly colored bottles before settling on something passingly familiar.

He picks it up, turning it over in his hand to study the label. ]