Summer Test Drive Meme

[trpmods]

SUMMER TEST DRIVE MEME
Application FAQ | Taken Characters | Reserves | Application

Welcome to the Current Test Drive for The Revival Project!

This game is a spin-off from the closed The Drift Fleet game. For more information about the game, including more details on the setting, please check out the FAQ here or the premise here.

A thread on the TDM will be required for all applications. Please view the FAQ for information about how this works. Any questions about the game please direct to the comment section of the FAQ as well.

If you are a Drift Fleet alumni bringing your character from the game, please label your character as 'DFAU' on your top level. Also, keep in mind you have complete flexibility on how your character comes here. They could be taken before endgame, after endgame, two years after, one year before, etc. It's up to you! If you want to completely restart your character, they're not considered DFAU anymore and won't need the label.

So go! Explore Agra 10! And, as always, HAVE FUN!

Thread ideas:

Hot Summer Time!

Summer has arrived and you know what that means: It's time to head out and spend some time at the beach, lounging on its bluish, almost purple sand, going for a swim or gathering some of the fat, green lobsters just wandering around the beach. They may be tasty, but remember that their pinch is toxic. It won’t kill you but it will definitely have the pinched body part swelling up and itching like a bad wool sweater.

If hunting for food isn't what you came here for, then sunbathing is always an option. Even if the color seems odd, this sand, also, likes to go literally everywhere.

Simply hopping into the water is also rarely a bad idea. This close to the coast there are no harmful creatures in the water, so whether you brought a swim suit, hop in fully clothed or have no care in the world about who might stumble over you naked, Agra 10's ocean is yours to play in.

Explore the city!

Here's a map and a bit more description of some of the buildings here.

Most of the buildings are run down and have clearly been abandoned for years; fortunately, the water treatment center appears to be working, but power is intermittent and unreliable. What used to be stores or places to live in lies in ruins, but there may still be something to scavenge among the rubble. Do you want to risk a swim in the flooded area that has turned into a deep lake that has yet to be fully explored; or does it draw you to some of the more prominent and partially restored buildings, such as the hotel, the hospital or the amphitheater.

If you are lucky, you might even stumble over The Deep End, the bar located on one of the mid-levels of the tower residences in one of the residence towers. Unfortunately no bright neon signs can lead you there, but it does exist.

Visit the spaceships!

That's right, there are currently several small spaceships grounded in the hangar - Or what remains of them. It's painfully obvious that these ships have crash-landed not too long ago and were taken back to the hangar for repairs. You were assigned to one of them and its doors will open for you and let you enter if you wish. (For test drive purposes, the ship that will let you enter is up to you, so just pick whichever name appeals, and go for it!) The other ships won't open for you, but as neither of them look as if they will be leaving anytime soon that doesn't really matter either way.

Maybe look around anyway. Or try your hand at some repairs?

Try the network!

Upon arrival, your character will have on their person a small, handheld communications device. Maybe they know exactly how to use a computer, smartphone, or tablet, and immediately blast out a text or video trying to figure out what's going on. Or maybe they're not so tech-savvy after all, and everyone is about to get a lovely shot right up your character's left nostril.

There be storms...

These power-altering storms keep ravaging parts of the planet every once in a while. No one truly knows where they come from or what to do about them yet, but one of them appears to be approaching. You have the option to find shelter in one of the buildings to wait for it to pass. Unless, of course, you rather feel drawn to investigate.

Should you step inside the storm, or even get lost in it, it will show ghosts of people you know and those you don't. It drains you of any super-human abilities and tries its best to keep you from getting to its origin. Are you going to try anyways? Or are you going to chase the whispers of people from your past? Maybe you will simply find yourself calling for help or stumble across another lost soul in need of assistance.

More information can be found here.

Wildcard!

You're welcome to use any previous test drive scenarios or previous game events as a basis for a thread/situation, or simply make up your own! Keep in mind that you're currently stranded on a planet with only basic necessities, but there is enough food and fresh water. Creature comforts, however, seem to be distinctly lacking. Quite unlike a gathering of potentially dangerous creatures to encounter. The setting is yours to explore and have fun with!

 

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✧ Premise ✧ FAQ ✧ Rules ✧ Test Drive ✧ Taken ✧ Reserves ✧ Application ✧
✧ Map ✧ Devices & Network ✧ Data Points ✧ Ships ✧ Flora ✧ Fauna ✧ Supply Requests ✧ Calendar ✧
✧ Activity Check ✧ Player Plot Suggestion ✧ Player Contacts ✧ Player Permission Code ✧ Hiatus ✧ Drop ✧
✧ Navigation ✧

code bases by tricklet

Comments

[burnyoudown]

[Ronan had better appreciate that warmth while it lasted because Kavinsky's smile was quickly turning into a smirk. He was still pretty comfortable with their current position, holding hands, holding Ronan's hand against his chest, but he was starting to act more like himself again. The version of him people usually expected, at least.]

Just one bed? [He teased.] For the both of us? That's awfully forward of you, Lynch.

[He didn't think Ronan had meant it like that. He probably hadn't even thought of it. But Kavinsky, being who he was, immediately did. He also didn't really think it was forward at all. He'd said plenty of more scandalous things to people he barely knew, himself. Who would he be if he let this moment pass them by without at least the chance to see if he could make Ronan blush?]

[beochaoineadh]

[Ronan had in fact not thought about how that sounded until Kavinsky was teasing him about it with that smirk on his face. With his pale skin it's not hard to catch the flush that burns across his features, blue eyes wide as he looks at him. Maybe it should make him uncomfortable to see the return of this side of him. Where he's more like the boy he knew from school... but it doesn't. They're still touching, still close, and the words make him blush, but Kavinsky isn't wielding them like a weapon. He had two brothers, so was rather familiar with the difference.]

I didn't- I just meant--

[Ronan flusters, doesn't even really finish his sentence when he tries to deflect the accusation, trails off into a muttered curse. In part because now he's thinking about it. Not even necessarily sexually, but the thought of being close like that still makes him burn in a way he doesn't want to admit to.

Ronan glares at him, but it's without intent. He's not actually upset, just embarrassed.]

God, you're such a jerk.

[burnyoudown]

[Kavinsky laughed, delighted that he'd gotten the reaction he'd wanted, and gave Ronan's hands a little squeeze before dropping his hand away from Ronan's on his chest.]

I know. Also, I never said I'd mind sharing a bed. I don't snore.

[But he was leaving this up to Ronan; whatever made him comfortable. He wasn't about to wreck their budding friendship and push the other boy away. He'd gotten his 'yes'; he could live with just that for a while.

If he was being completely honest, Kavinsky preferred sharing a bed over sleeping alone, if only because it made him feel less lonely. He was also, he'd been told, at his most tolerable when he was asleep or mostly asleep, not counting dreaming. Part of him had wanted to take that as an insult, but he'd let it roll off his back like it was nothing. Maybe it would also be healthy for them to have separate sleeping spaces, different beds.]

[beochaoineadh]

[Kavinsky laughs, openly pleased, and Ronan can only shake his head, a slight smile twitching at his lips in spite of himself. He was charming like this, even when he was being a little bit terrible.]

I guess I wouldn't mind, either. Since you don't snore. Might be easier while we're getting things settled, at any rate.

[He aims for casual, like the idea of it doesn't run a thrill through him. But while Ronan had his own bedroom back at the Barns, of course, the idea of being close like that tempts the part of him that leans toward codependence. Before he'd found him, when he thought he was entirely on his own, he'd been so lonely, the feeling tipping over into that choked, helpless anger. His knuckles still a bit scuffed because punching a brick wall had seemed like the best outlet he had.

He likes the idea of being close. But admitting to it, expressing that sort of vulnerability still feels like exposing too much of himself. But then Kavinsky has seen more of that side of him than Ronan's even aware of, yet. He lets his fingers slide up against the other teen's shoulder for a moment, before falling away, but he still holds his hand.]

[burnyoudown]

You sure?

['Terrible' was Kavinsky's middle name. But Ronan was surprisingly a balm, soothing the worst of Kavinsky's urges. It'd been easier, before, to be terrible to him knowing he had nothing to lose. Maybe that was why he'd lost everything in the end.]

Might be. [He agreed.

Of course, there was nothing stopping them from dreaming beds if they couldn't find any, though Kavinsky would have been content with a mattress on the floor. Anything that he shared with Ronan would be just fine. He might have lived in a mansion before but it wasn't the mansion that had spoiled him. It was the dreaming.]

Are you ready to wake up?

[They had their work cut out for them, but he was sure they could handle whatever they needed to. Not just because they were dreamers, but because he knew Ronan was just as stubborn and determined as he was. Neither of them were quitters and spoiled or not, Kavinsky wasn't afraid of a little hard work. They could handle fixing up the theater and getting Ronan's dreams under control.]

[beochaoineadh]

Yeah, sure. How bad can we be?

[He smiles, a little bit impish as he asks the question, although it's rhetorical more than anything. Something just a touch wicked as he looks at the other boy. He likes this, the idea of being together in this. Feeling like he wasn't alone, that they could be close, that maybe he could hold his hand when they woke up, too. How Ronan would handle the fact that he wanted this feeling to be more than dreams was anyone's guess, mercurial creature that he was.

One way or another they'd make this work, he was sure. A space that they could make their own, shape it to what they wanted. Much like Kavinsky, Ronan had grown up in a certain sort of luxury, but it was the dreams- the dreaming- that ruined him for the rest of the world.]

Yeah. I guess we can't stay here forever.

[He leans in, takes a breath, one last slide of his fingers against the other boy's hand. He thinks of the leather bracelets on his wrist, the weight of them like a memory. In truth the idea of waking without them would be stranger, but he wanted to do this right. No mistakes, nothing else but the leather bands. He knows what he wants, at least in this moment, and he hopes that's enough.

Dreaming like this is a balancing act; awake enough to know he's dreaming, but not so awake that it pulls him out of the dream. It doesn't take too much effort to cross the distance, pulling himself back into reality. Even if part of him still wants to stay.

Leather bands on his wrist as perfect as a memory. No horrors or molotovs. There were a few errant blue petals on the back of his hand. Not perfect, but for the first time he'd brought back something because he wanted it and that felt like magic.]

[burnyoudown]

[They could be as bad as they wanted to be. Bad but not bad. Together, they could do wonders. Together, maybe Kavinsky could help Ronan with the worst of his dreams.

Sometimes, he debated spending forever in a dream. Dreaming was always better than the real world. There was a reason he was always partying, frequently high, trying to chase the feeling of dreams, to recapture the feeling. Sometimes he succeeded. More often than not, he didn't. But maybe things would be different with another dreamer around, really around.

He thought, for the briefest moment, of arguing for staying longer, but they'd been asleep long enough and he felt safe but not entirely. Anything could happen to them in this strange place while they slept. So he said nothing, nodding instead.

When he opened his eyes, his sunglasses were tucked neatly on the front of his shirt, just like in the dream. He always seemed to shake the dream paralysis faster than Ronan did, and after a few moments, he tried to work the kink out of his neck before looking over, looking him up and down, spotting both the petals and the leather bracelets. Reaching over, he plucked one of the petals from Ronan's hand.]

Good job.

[beochaoineadh]

[The thing is that Ronan actually understood that desire. He knew what it was like when he woke with his dreams in his hands, and the intensity of his dreams and the glee in his heart was so intense it stripped the real world of anything bright or vibrant. Creating from raw dreamstuff was a high you couldn't explain to someone that hadn't felt it.

Kavinsky is awake and moving faster than Ronan is. He's stuck outside of himself for moments, watching the other boy and those white sunglasses clipped to his shirt, the same as in the dream. He watches how he moves, the way he plucks one of the petals from his hand. He comes back to himself and sits up, rolling his shoulders and curling fingers lightly around the leather bracelets.

They feel the same.

He can't help grinning, bright and wild- his father's smile, eyes that sparkled like a secret or a promise. He preens a little under the praise, a slight flush to his face. His voice quiet when he speaks, watching him, like he knows him better than he did before he closed his eyes.]

Thank you.

[And he means it. He doesn't think he could have done it without Kavinsky telling him that he could, telling him how, giving him a space for it that was different from his own. Keeping the dream safe when Ronan's thoughts leaned to claws and horrors.]

[burnyoudown]

[A little encouragement went a long way, as far as Kavinsky was concerned. No one had ever encouraged him to get better at dreaming; he'd done it out of spite, to make something of himself so he wouldn't just be a loser. Some people probably still thought he was a loser anyway, but they could go fuck themselves. He lived his life the way he wanted to, the way that made him happy.

Smiling, he cupped the side of Ronan's face in his hand for a brief moment before sliding his hand around to the back of his neck, giving him a friendly squeeze.]

You can do whatever you put your mind to.

[Even if he needed a little help with it sometimes. There was nothing wrong with that. Some people thought asking for help was a weakness, but sometimes you just couldn't do something on your own. Everyone learned from somewhere.

Looking back down at the petal, he sniffed it, looked up again. He held Ronan's gaze and put the petal on his own tongue. Never mind that a second ago he'd been about to say something about how they should save those petals and now he was eating one, but. It was from Ronan's head and so it was like a piece of him. It wasn't much different than taking the dream pills as far as eating dreams went, but there was something that felt different about this.]

[beochaoineadh]

[Direct encouragement like that had never really been Niall's style, it was all implied adoration and extravagant stories and flat out fucking lies. But the charming ones, where Ronan usually felt like he was in on the joke. Encouragement was Aurora's territory, typically. But never like this, never for dreaming. So the words matter, they make his breath hitch a little as he smiles, a little shy.

Every time Kavinsky touches him he feels like it sets him on fire, makes him feel starved for the contact, the affection, like he needs more. He tilts into the contact as his fingers cup against the younger teen's face, pale skin flushed, a low hum of breath ad the other boy's fingers curl against the back of his neck. A light squeeze and Ronan lets himself lean in toward him just a little.

The only part that makes how easily Kavinsky affects him tolerable, is that he's pretty sure he does it on purpose, and that makes it feel a little bit more like something shared. Like an unspoken agreement, something he wanted to offer but needed Kavinsky to pull it from him until he burned. And Ronan can handle it, he thinks, even if the other boy is gorgeous and gets under his skin like an addiction he hadn't realized he had.

He smiles, thinks things will settle even if half of his focus is still on the points on his neck where it feels like Kavinsky's fingertips linger like a brand.

And then he holds his gaze, blue eyes on his darker ones, and he watches as he puts one of Ronan's dreamt flower petals on his tongue. He can't think past that fact, his breath catching helpless as he watches, his pupils blown. It should have been something to laugh off, like the way girls at Nino's giggled about indirect kisses or something. He couldn't have explained why it was worse than the pills, but it was. He couldn't have looked away if he'd wanted to, and there was not any part of him that would have been willing to try.

The thought was on loop like the only thing that mattered: that one of his dreams was on his tongue.

Ronan felt impossibly like Kavinsky was going to devour him instead. He felt like he was dying, he felt more alive than he ever had in his life. He feels exposed, doesn't have the poison or the apathy to be anything but completely ruined and obvious. He wants the other teen's fingers on his lips, wants to feel-- something. He just wants him, like it's the only thing that matters.]

[burnyoudown]

[If it was anybody else, Kavinsky would have leaned in and kissed him. Ronan looked like he was practically begging for it. But he exercised restraint. He should get a medal for how many times he'd held himself back from doing something he wanted to in just the last few hours.

He still leaned in a little, smirking, dark eyes bright. He brushed his fingers through Ronan's hair, slow and gentle, before sliding his arm around his shoulders, casually, though it was really anything but. His skin prickled everywhere they were in contact, heat flooding through him. Touching Ronan felt charged, no matter how simple and non-sexual it was. It felt like more.

He wanted to do so much to Ronan, to take him, to ruin him for anyone else, to be the best damn thing in his life, to dream impossible things with him. The two of them together felt like magic, like a high as good as the chemical ones, like he was invincible. He wanted Ronan wrapped around his finger, but not to use him or hurt him. He just wanted his loyalty, complete and unwavering. He knew loyalty took time, but he'd done it before; he had the patience to do it again.

Tucking the petal against the inside of his cheek, he said-]

Do you want me to kiss you?

[Not 'can I kiss you' because Kavinsky didn't ask permission for shit, but did Ronan want it. He looked like he did, but Kavinsky didn't want to fuck up. Been there, done that. Anyone else, he wouldn't have cared; other people came and went, they were a dime a dozen, but not Ronan. He was special.]

[beochaoineadh]

[He was so intensely away of everything in that moment. The color of his eyes, the way he smirked, the way he shifted closer. Ronan leaned in a little as fingers brushed into the curls of his hair, pressing into the touch, the way that it makes him feel. Electric with the heat of it, with where they press together, and he gasps softly on the air between them.

He never knows what he wants, but right now, he does. He wants him, he wants the way his fingers press against his skin and thread through his hair. Kavinsky's arm curls around his shoulder and Ronan presses into the contact, trembling. He's not sure he'd ever wanted anything like this, almost light-headed as he leans into him. His fingers pressing to his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt as he nods in answer to the question. It takes him a half-second to make his voice work, but when he does it's soft and genuine and honest.]

Yes, I- I want you to.

[A little bit breathless, the way he says it almost like please, almost needy. He's never kissed anyone, never had anyone he wanted to kiss in a way that was desperate and pointed like this, not just theoretical but wanting to kiss him, this person. He looks up at him, blue eyes dark with desire and unguarded, eager and hopeful as his fingers tracing against his chest. Just to touch, just to feel him, his pulse rabbit-fast and he can feel it.]

[burnyoudown]

[He half expected Ronan to say no, just because Kavinsky never seemed to luck out with him, but things were different. He had to keep reminding himself of that, as if it wasn't obvious. But Ronan said yes and Kavinsky felt powerful. He smiled, something genuine just for the other dreamer.

Reaching out with his other hand, he cupped the side of Ronan's face, fingers brushing over his skin, and leaned in to kiss him. He was gentle but confident, letting it linger, committing the moment to memory before he pulled back just a little. Then he kissed him again, more firmly, but with care. He felt like he was burning, like he was nearly high.

He was more than a little tempted to climb into Ronan's lap, but--there were so many buts about this and he didn't like it--he didn't want to overwhelm him. If he was the same Ronan from the Fourth of July, Kavinsky would throw caution to the wind and say fuck it, but (again) he wasn't.

Finally, he pulled back again, leaning his head against Ronan's, eyes still closed. He wanted to kiss him again, kiss him until his mouth was sore. Maybe he would.]

I've wanted to do that for months.

[Ever since he'd realized he didn't actually hate Ronan for beating him when they raced, around the time he'd discovered he was a dreamer, too. His attraction had grown over the weeks and now it was a fire waiting to happen, waiting for something--like a kiss--to push it over the edge.]

[beochaoineadh]

[He's quickly realized he likes the way that Kavinsky smiles, but this one is even better- the way he smiles just before he kisses him twists in his chest for a moment. And then he's not thinking about anything at all, because then their mouths are touching and he can almost taste the sparks. Kavinsky's fingers cupped against his skin, gentle but with an easy confidence that takes his breath away.

Ronan is inexperienced, but he's all passion, desire that catches like a fire. His fingers curled in Kavinsky's shirt tugging just a little because he wants to be closer, wants more. He's greedy, but without the walls and defenses, doesn't care if the other boy can tell how affected he is. If they had kissed when he was older, it probably would have been a different sort of fight or a competition, and this isn't either of those things.

He gasps, murmurs against his mouth, already feels a little bit wrecked. He's almost starry-eyed as they lean in together and breathe, flushed and it feels like he's high, like when he takes something from his dreams and it turns down the volume on everything else. This was all he could focus on.

His skin still felt hot as embers, and he lets his other hand curl against the side of his neck just to touch skin. His breath rough and uneven, and he smiles. Lingers not long enough to catch his breath, but enough to remember that he should.]

Really? I didn't think you noticed me that far back.

[Ronan had noticed Kavinsky, but that wasn't remarkable- everyone did. It had been the car that caught his attention first, though: not expensive enough to be a status symbol, designed to draw attention in a way that had nothing to do with restoration and detail kits. It was as subtle as an open wound and it had racer written all over it. Ronan didn't race yet, not for real: not with a learner's permit and his father's car. But the knowledge still made every time he saw it feel like adrenaline.

The younger teen is a creature of impulse, even if it spells itself out differently now. So Kavinsky might have the caution to not try climbing into his lap, but Ronan doesn't. Just a flutter of blue eyes so he knows how to move, and then shifting so he settles on his thighs, just because he needed to be closer. This was reckless, and people would probably have said he wasn't the type to be caught up like this so quickly. But the truth was that Kavinsky knew him better in the past few hours than anyone else ever could.

He nips against his mouth with teeth, careful not to hurt, but like a tease, a provocation. He wanted everything he could, all he knew how to give, the way proximity just fueled the fire. He feels like he's flying and he just- he doesn't want to stop. He wants to pull Kavinsky off the edge of a cliff right along with him.]

[burnyoudown]

You're impossible not to notice.

[Ronan wasn't like the other boys at Aglionby, never had been, never would be. Kavinsky liked that about him. Even if he didn't become sharp and poisonous, he'd always be a dreamer, and that alone made him special. The kind of special that Kavinsky couldn't ignore.

Then Ronan was in his lap and he let his arm drop away from his shoulders, his hand slip away from his face, to rest on his thighs instead. His fingers crept up to his hips, and Kavinsky pulled him closer before pushing his hands under his shirt, palms pressing against his back. It was like the start of every good dream he'd ever had about Ronan, filling him with fire. Ronan nipped at his mouth and a shiver rolled down Kavinsky's spine, nails dragging gently against the other boy's back.

Things felt like they were moving fast, but not because Kavinsky was one to take things slow; he'd gotten the impression that Ronan was. Maybe he'd underestimated him before, maybe there'd been more of a desire and attraction that he'd hidden from him. But why? What had made Kavinsky not good enough before? It wasn't the first time he'd wondered that. Had he not been upstanding enough? Not charming enough?

He silenced his own thoughts by kissing Ronan again, all need and desire. He was trying not to overwhelm him, to take the kiss slow, but it was hard when he wanted so much. He wasn't used to holding back; whatever he wanted, he took. Steadily, bit by bit, his self-control was slipping. Ronan made it easy to give in.]