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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

[ Jesse wants him gone. But he also desperately longs for... what? What does he long for? Safety. He has to rely on himself for that, and he knows it, but god, does he long for it. Just someone to make him feel safe, the way Mike made him feel safe.

Mike. God, he hasn't allowed himself to think about that name in months. Something in Jesse's hard, caged gaze dims, almost seems to becomes faraway and lost for just a moment. Like he's disappearing inside himself somehow. But then, as if remembering there's a threat standing right there in front of him - his gaze snaps back into hardness again.

Is he going to spend his entire time here isolated from everyone? Huddled in a corner, longing for safety but longing for the safety of isolation, too? On a spaceship where nothing is familiar? That's not very smart, and Jesse knows it's not smart. And so: ]

You try anything, you're dead. We clear?

[ An invitation to stay, if it could be taken that way. Is it possible to sound both dangerously chilling and terribly alone at once, with a comment like that? Jesse manages to, somehow. ]

[ frank wants to be on his own too, isolated. like he told sarah: he takes comfort in being alone. and like he told karen: that he's not lonely. but they were both lies to some extent, he needs people as much as he tells himself it's better for everyone if he's far away. here that's not exactly an option, even while he tries to keep his bunk and username a secret from the one person he recognizes. slowly, frank nods, lowering his hands without taking his eyes off of jesse's. ]

Crystal.

[ Crystal. Ha, that's funny. Real funny. A weird, unnerving smile twitches onto Jesse's mouth despite himself, humourless and edged with something just a little unhinged. Like he might suddenly burst out with laughter at a morbid joke the guy standing in front of him won't understand. Trauma is funny like that, the way it locks him up paralysed most the time, but sometimes wants to erupt out of him with manic, shrill laughter. Crystal. Crystal meth. Just that word alone - meth - makes something inside Jesse want to snap.

Slowly, he sinks back until he's resting against the wall, skinny shoulders slouched, and that unnerving smile of his dims back into a stony stare. ]

Okay. Turn out your pockets and shit first, though.

[ he narrows his eyes at the smile, not able to discern its meaning just yet. but it's easy enough to do what jesse wants of him. frank slowly moves his hand, his comms device clasped around his wrist at last, and turns his pockets inside out. even the one over his chest that couldn't hold much more than a pen. he lifts his eyebrows and waits for the other man's approval. ] Satisfied?

[ Jesse watches all of this. See?, says some part of his mind that's desperate to cling onto some semblance of sanity, of safety. Another part of his mind remains wholly guarded and mistrustful.

His expression remains unchanged, unreadable. But then, a tiny nod. Alright. Satisfied enough, for now. Shifting on the mattress, he draws his scrawny knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, hugging himself, and his eyes move across the small room to look pointedly at the opposite corner. That's where the guy can go. And just when it seems that's the last modicum of communication Jesse is going to offer, he says in a quiet, distant voice: ]

Wouldn't happen to have any smokes on you, would you?

[ The guy just turned out all his pockets, so probably not. ]

[ frank pushes his pockets back in and traipses over to the corner without protest. his right magboot drags, almost imperceptible. but his gait is off, not quite a gimp, but something to be noticed. he slides down against the wall and makes himself comfortable. just when he thinks they'll be sitting in silence for the foreseeable future, the kid speaks up again. ]

Where would I be keeping 'em, huh? [ he has to laugh, though it's a dry stilted thing. ]

I dunno. Up your ass, maybe.

[ Said like he's supposed to be making a joke in response to that stilted laugh that guy lets out, the way the old Jesse would make a joke, but it comes out flat and disconnected. ]

[ he tips his head to concede the point. with better delivery, he might have laughed again. ]

Sorry, kid. Not your lucky day. [ because before the lack of smokes it was coming up daisies ]

[ Why does being called kid ignite something achingly familiar in Jesse? Sounds like something Mike would say, dry and sarcastic, an edge of gruff softness around the edges that Mike sometimes used to reserve for Jesse on particularly shitty days. Sorry, kid. Not your lucky day. Jesse hugs his knees tighter to his chest. ]

No problem. Shitty luck with cigarettes is pretty low on the shitty luck scale, considering everything.

Good point. [ and it is. frank draws his knees up and rests his elbows on them, the epitome of casual lounging. it's an illusion, of course, but a convincing one. ] Ever been to space before, kid?

[ Jesse shifts a little restlessly, and he sneaks a sidelong glance over at the guy. For a flash of a second, the thought of being in space sends terror ripping through Jesse. Just the thought of floating through a huge void of nothingness, nowhere to go, no way to leave. A quick little shake of his head, no. Absolutely never been to space before. ]

Hm. [ he nods, it's to be expected really, though the people he's met thus far have been split nearly 50/50. ] Yeah, me either.

[ Maybe Jesse has just become exceptionally skilled at resigning himself to fate. That flash of terror dulls almost as quickly as it surfaces, and the thought Well, at least I'm finally free smooths itself over that terror like an anaesthetising balm. Even being trapped on a spaceship in the middle of deep space is better than where he was. At least he can leave this room if he chooses to. At least he can wander the corridors if he chooses to. At least he's not chained up, being beaten up, being pissed on, being hosed down with cold water like a dog, being spat at, laughed at, forced to watch anybody else he cares about being executed.

He realises he's lapsed into staring at the guy, rapidly losing himself in the spiral of those last few thoughts. Unnerving staring silence, which probably comes across as extremely creepy. He's disappearing into himself again, isn't he? Happens so easily, so often. He hardly realises when it's happening most the time. Blank confusion crosses his face for a second as his mind tries to reconnect with the present. What were they talking about? ...Oh, that's right. Being in space. The guy just told him he's never been in space. ]

Do you remember... like, how we got here?

[ frank isn't unnerved by the thousand yard stare. he gives it right back, even if his gaze is weighty and lucid by comparison. he remembers looking at people like that, in the weeks after his family died. he knows then even if he never wanted to be, even if jesse doesn't want him to be, that he isn't going anywhere. ]

I don't remember, like, anymore than you do. [ his expression gentles, sometimes it's hard to turn the dad thing off okay. even if he isn't one anymore. ]

[ That's probably the most disturbing part, really - not being in space so much as how they ended up in space. Jesse loses time all the time these days - sometimes loses entire hours, his mind detaching itself and floating far away somewhere over the rainbow where it latches onto hyperreal fantasies to escape the hell he's been trapped in. But this situation isn't simply a case of losing time. Both he and this stranger have been abducted, it would seem, and neither of them have any recollection of it. That's a little troubling.

Jesse rocks back and forth slightly for a second, hugging his knees a little tighter to his chest. ]

Think they did anything to us?

[ Whoever "they" might be. ]

Depends who they are, I'd wager.

[ he doesn't feel like anything was "done" to him, but they had taken his clothes and his weapons and somehow he'd ended up with his dog-tags even if those weren't on him. something is at work here, something far above his paygrade. ]

Wasn't drugged. No motive. It's a goddamned conspiracy. Like I haven't had enough of those.

[ he says the last part to himself, but loud enough for jesse to hear. he's frustrated, but also resigned. this is happening whether any of them understand why or not - that's at least a familiar feeling. ]

[ Hm. 'Depends on who they are'. Depends on what they want, too. Jesse's eyes drift down to the clothes he's got on, to the magboots down on the floor. He unclasps his arm from around his knees, too, to examine the watch-like device on his wrist. Jesse inspects all of this in that same strange calm manner of his that seems to hint that he is in fact a ticking time bomb. Wrapping that arm back around his knees, his attention moves back onto the guy in the corner, in the same clothes, with the same boots, with the same device on his wrist. ]

They prepared, yo. The clothes and the boots. And the... [ Briefly unwrapping his arm from around his knees again to gesture to the thing on his wrist. ] This thing. Everyone's got the same thing. They were prepared for us.

[ frank pulls his communicator over holding his wrist with his other hand and staring at the screen. prepared, yeah. something like that. ]

Seems that way. But then why... why leave us to our own devices, huh? The fun was in the kidnapping but not the follow-thru? Nah, I don't buy it. There's something else going on.

[ he looks back over at jesse, a brightness in his gaze that wasn't there before. ]

Unless this is some kinda social experiment. You buy that, kid?

[ ...A social experiment? Does he buy that? A beat of silence passes, lingering just a little too long, while Jesse stares at the guy. This guy actually wants Jesse's opinion? That takes him so off-guard that he can't figure out what to say. When was the last time someone asked him what he thought about something? He can't remember. He's forgotten what it's like to even have thoughts, opinions, to be asked something like maybe his input might mean something. ]

...No?

[ Is that the right answer? Is he going to be punished here for saying something wrong? He can't help anticipating punishment.

He swallows apprehensively, then carefully dares to add, his voice wavering a little: ]

Th-There was that... that message. About not saving the world. If this is a social experiment... I-I mean, that's pretty fuckin' elaborate. Bringing us all to space and-and shit. Not to mention messed up. [ He swallows again, then says with a sudden mortified, insistent edge to his tone: ] There are kids here, yo.

Edited 2018-04-26 04:42 (UTC)

[ he just allows jesse to suss things out for himself, but he's watching him closely, listening too. it's obvious he does care about his opinion, if only because it's helping him sort through his own feelings on their whole situation. he's about to keep it going when jesse mentions kids. frank swallows, looking away suddenly. ]

This is elaborate no matter what it is. Maybe we just bide our time. Get to know this place while we wait for the hammer to drop.

[ this from a man who isn't accustomed to inaction, but he's exhausted. he was looking forward to sleeping for a year after butchering every last one of his enemies. and now he gets to start all over. it really is the definition of irony. he drops his hands and leans back against the wall, the back of his head rolling as if he's trying to keep himself awake. and maybe that's exactly what's happening. ]

Where are you from, kid?

[ 'Where are you from, kid?' Just like that, his mind is dragged back to— that place. That filthy cement hole, Todd's face, the galling memory of watching Andrea crumple to the ground with her brains blown out, Mr. fucking White. His mouth begins to form the words but get stuck in his throat. He can't even bring himself to say it: New Mexico. He's a deer caught in the headlights for all of a couple of silent moments before quickly deflecting: ]

Does it matter? We're in fucking space.

...No. Guess it doesn't. [ frank can just as easily sit here and not say anything, so that's what he does, the back of his head bumping the wall again as he stares straight ahead. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

» TEST DRIVE #001

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USING THIS JOURNAL FOR REVERIE, please don't think this is someone rando hijacking as jesse lmf

oooh nice un friend

ty ty

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