revivalprojectooc | Test Drive Meme!

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Test Drive Meme!

TEST DRIVE
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:

- Explore the city! There's a map here 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. The hotel seems to be the most crowded, but you might want into what appears to be an abandoned storefront and find someone else scavenging or even sleeping.

- There are spaceships! That's right, there are currently several small spaceships grounded in the hangar. They appear to have power, but only one ship will let you enter. (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 it might be worth poking around the one that will...

- Is that a chill in the air? It seems to be getting just a little colder, day by day... or maybe it's your imagination? But just in case it's not, you might want to thinking about prepping for what could be winter. Does that mean gathering plants to dry for food? Stockpiling water, or trying to get the power to stay steady in the buildings so you won't freeze (does it even get down to freezing, here - who knows!)? It's up to you!

- Can you hear me now? 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.

- 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...

code bases by tricklet

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. The City, The Ruins
It always seemed to be that one came upon the world long after everything that was going to happen, had. That wasn't the truth, of course, and the fact that there were always more ruins seemed to prove it; underneath these walls, as with others, there were surely much older ones. Still, it did give the world a feeling of being little more than a much-overgrown graveyard. But that was why she was here, wasn't it? At the end of it all, there had to be something. There was always something.

Usually something very big, true, with sharp fangs or a great big sword. Even so.

A knight isn't the kind of sight most people expect to see walking down fine, modern streets like those of Agra 10. Or, like they used to be, rather. Even less you might expect the knight, sword, shield and all, to be trying to wedge themselves into a broken window, trying to gain access to what's inside. But, looking at the window-frame, anyone could see the water damage and rot, the way it's about to collapse if they keep putting their weight on it like that...

ii. The Space, The Ships
Anachronistic as anything, this; a knight looking up at the curved egg-dome of a spaceship hull. Anyone watching might happily mistake her for a statue, so long does she stand, quite still, considering, barely moving.

And then, as if facing off against a great dragon, the knight draws her sword and— CLONG!

That's how you open spaceship doors, right? Hitting it repeatedly with a sword? Makes perfect sense to somebody here, at least.

iii. The Chill, The Air
It's a cold day. It's been a cold day for weeks, now, and nothing could be more welcome than the cheery glow of a bonfire. This one, the one you've stumbled upon, is perhaps a bit odd; for one, there very much are human bones nestled in among the fuel. Large bones, a few smaller ones, and one leering skull, wreathed in cherry-red embers and licked by soot and fire. There's also a sword stuck in it, or maybe just a very strange sort of poker, all twisted and strange; the whole arrangement has an air of magic about it.

What kind? Well, what are you, a mage? Come closer, and see.

And say hello to the person sitting there, at the fire. Just sitting, warming their bones, though how warm one can be when dressed head to toe in face-obscuring armor is anyone's guess. Come closer, friend, and know her better!

iv. The Wild, The Card
hit me up with any scenario you like! Feel free to come get me on Plurk or discord, if you'd like to throw any ideas at the wall.

The padawan feels like he's been walking in circles around the ruins ever since he'd woken up in this strange place. Part of his mind is in a daze from the transfer, the rest still reeling from the place he'd been just before.

He knows he should probably be worried, that he should be trying to find out how to get back to the others. He should, but right now, he can't. It's too much, too sudden, too soon--

The inquisitive chirp at his shoulder snaps him out of his circuitous thoughts, and Cal glances at the little droid perched there. Well, at the very least, he isn't alone. ...and neither are they, it seems.

"What is it, BeeDee?" he asks, but it's at that moment he hears it, that odd scraping sound. Both he and the exploration droid look towards it then, and it's with caution that the young man approaches the old building.

...and that sure does look like some ancient suit of armor trying to mash its way into a window. BD-1 gives an electronic hoot as he shifts position on Cal's back, the red-haired padawan nodding hesitantly.

"...yeah BeeDee, I agree. That doesn't look-"

His legs are already moving as he sees crumbling debris from the already unstable wall, BD-1 clinging to him as he runs. "Hey!" he shouts towards the armored figure. "Look out!"

And at the sound of his voice, the armor, or rather the person inside it, stops. Their knee is balanced over the crackling edge of the ancient wood, poised in the very picture-pose of attentiveness; a little too late.

The helmeted head turns, first the wrong way, then back, and her whole body jerks when she sees him running towards her. Friend of foe? Either way, it's probably unwise to shove oneself back out of the crumbling facade with such force, nor so abruptly.

...And then it goes from crumbling in metaphor to doing it literally. Just as she's raising her hand in greeting, the whole front of the building comes sliding down, like an avalanche of brick. It would be fascinating to see under any other circumstance, the way it all cascades in one long sheet, the bricks acting all as one until they meet the ground and abruptly become a tumbling, raucous cascade. The dust plume is significant.

It's less fun from underneath, too.

When the air clears, the bricks are still there, as is the figure in knight's armor. She's almost completely buried, right up to her chest and shoulder, and there's a suspicious dampness nearby; blood, pooling.

"Well. That didn't go to plan," She says, audibly feminine, and just as clearly in pain, not that she's acknowledging it, "That's actually kind of embarrassing. Listen, if you're going to kill me, can you get on with it? I don't want to lay here all day."

"No-" he starts, but already the masonry is crumbling, collapsing. His ragged poncho flapping wildly behind him, Cal continues running until he's forced to stop for the amount of dust that's kicked up. He throws an arm up to shield his face, coughing as it does less for the sudden thickness of the air.

As if it would help the area clear faster, he begins to wave his hands around to try dispersing the clouds of dust, but things begin to settle on their own regardless, enough so that he can see what's left of the building, and much worse, the poor armored figure that he'd been attempting to warn. BD-1 coos quietly in concern as Cal sees the blood. He swallows, stepping closer.

She was speaking- whoever it is in the armor. Still managing to sound conversational despite being stuck and most definitely injured. For a moment Cal stares at her helmeted face, shaking his head with incomprehension. "I'm not-" Not here to kill, but he's wasting precious time talking. So he stops.

Instead, he lifts a hand, concentrating. He notices almost immediately, how muddy his connection with the Force seems to be. Was it because of what happened with his master? He shuts out the thought, he can't let himself dwell on that now. It's there, something, anyway, and he grasps at it like a wavering thread.

The bricks and rubble shudder, shift. And very slowly, they move. In singles, in small but vital sections, and Cal's closing his eyes now as he works, sweat beading his brow, but he can do this, feeling his little droid stoop closer beside his head as though in silent rapport.

"Oh?"

If he'd meant to kill her, that really was his best chance; helpless, half-killed already, unable even to so much as move let alone heal herself. But if he meant to do it by sorcery, she wasn't going to complain about technique. It was taking a while, though.

Actually, it was getting a bit easier to get her breath, come to think of it.

A lot easier, even.

"Oh!" Far be it from her to object, wriggling helpfully as the masonry lifts away. It's slow work, and she hasn't all the time in the world, but it isn't long before Eva can see that it's going to be enough, "That's friendly."

Or honorable, at least. Some people don't like to get you in the back. Some people insist on bowing and making an honorable fight of it. Some people are just a little bit stupid. Case in point, the moment she's free enough to do so, the woman in the armor all but rolls out of the rubble and away, spattering blood as she does so.

She backs off, warily, holds up a hand as if to ask for a pause, the other fumbling at her belt, and comes up with a bottle. It's glowing, very orange and made brighter by the lingering dimness, but she wedges the neck under her visor and knocks back a sip.

"Ahh, much better," And then she draws her sword, two-handed, and holds it towards Cal in a casual, threatening manner, "Want to have a go, then? I'm ready now."

His eyes open again as he hears the movement, far more than he knows he's handling. As the armored woman breaks free from her stony imprisonment, Cal lets his own efforts drop, the bricks he'd been moving clattering back onto the pile.

It's BD-1 who's watching her as the armored figure manages to move away, perched easily on two spindly little legs, its movements reminiscent of a bird, save that its head is anything but. Cal's dropped his hands to his knees as he works on catching his breath. He raises his head enough to watch, assuming her drink is something akin to the glowing green stims his droid carries. It's when she pulls out her weapon that his eyes widen, and he staggers back a few steps, raising a hand as if to tell her to wait.

He is so not ready for this.

Out of reflex his other hand moves to his side, grasping at air, and the confusion crosses his face as he looks down, remembering. He'd been without his lightsaber when he'd awoken here, but even if he'd had it, it would have been little use. The kyber crystal had been broken and had left the hilt badly damaged.

"Look," Cal says, raising his eyes towards the stranger again as he brings his hands up to show he's unarmed- which...he realizes probably means nothing considering she'd seen him moving rocks with nothing, but he's trying to placate her nevertheless. "I'm not here to fight. I'm not even really sure where here is." Although he's concerned about just how much he's come to learn about here without having to do a thing. That was more detailed than his usual bouts through psychometry.

"Lordran. Isn't it?" It could be a trick; clearly, he's a sorcerer. But then, it'd be a bit silly to wait this long and then trick her in such a stupid, underhanded way. If he were going to be a bastard, it would have been a moment ago; the tip of her sword wavers, dips, and then vanishes as she re-sheaths her blade with the usual metallic hiss, "Or somewhere very close to Lordran."

She wonders, briefly, if he's simple. But his accent isn't Astoran, and he's an odd sort of Undead to be—

"Wait," Eva crosses the half-dozen meters between them in a few long, urgent strides, only to stop, lean forward... and do nothing. She stares, looking at him minutely, and then reaches to flip up to visor on her helm for a better view. His neck, without hardly a scar, and the face so clear-eyed. It would be impossible to tell for certain, without seeing more of him, but her own dark-eyed squint tells her enough for suspicion, if not certainty, "...Aren't you Undead? You're not, are you?"

The name she speaks clearly doesn't ring a bell for the confusion that touches his expression. Cal shakes his head slowly, uncertain but still wary as he watches her and the sword.

"I don't think I've heard of any planets called Lordran," he begins to say, much relieved as the armored one sheathes her weapon but still cautious all the same. The boy barely manages to keep from backpeddling when she suddenly starts towards him, closing the distance. He leans back as she does so forwards, BD-1 scrabbling about for better cover behind him.

"Uh..." He grimaces at the question. "No? Is that a trick question? I just escaped some undead Nightsisters from the last world I was on but...last I checked, I was pretty much alive." But now he's wondering if he should doubt even that, patting himself down as though he might've missed something. Why else would this woman be asking such a strange question?

"Of course. But there's alive and there's... Alive," She backs off half a step, strips off her helmet, the better to see and be seen. Long hair and all, this is, definitely, a woman. "Alright, sorcerer. I don't know what stupid impulse made you wander around here, or how you got past any of that without actually dying, but..."

Eva tucks her helm under one arm and executes a tidy little bow, quite the formal leg, though anyone who knew better would call it more a salute than anything proper.

"Evangeline Thill, I think. Call me Eva. Though I'll answer to just about anything, these days. Don't mind hollows, do you?"

He waits for further explanation, and when none is forthcoming, he allows his arms to drop as it seems the woman's not planning to attack him anymore. It doesn't mean he's kicked his paranoia that there's still a possibility. He's spent the last five years trying to be unseen and not draw attention, and it's all only recently taken a drastic change.

And then there's all this.

"I don't know what's with all the sorcerer business. I'm a Jedi. ...in training," he adds, not that there's much of Jedi nor padawan these days, and bringing attention to that matter got you hunted down rather quickly, as he'd found out. But the armored woman doesn't seem familiar with either, and so far as he knows, the Nightsisters of Dathomir didn't sport such heavy fashion.

"...Cal Kestis," he eventually offers in return, giving a stiff nod of his head, if only to keep her in his sight. His droid warbles from over his shoulder and he jerks his head in its direction. "And this is BeeDee-One. ...what's a hollow?" He suspects he can figure it out from her earlier questions, but this is the first time anyone's offered to answer questions so willingly and he's not about to waste that.

"Who do you work for? Some kind of order, or a guard...?"

She makes a bit of a face as he talks. Jedi? Must be a sect of sorcerers. Or maybe he's one of those hex-using Dark practitioners she's heard about. Not that she's anyone to judge, of course! And, just look at his odd little construct; that's a familiar if ever there was one. He's clearly a sorcerer.

"Oh, uh... I suppose, that's the Way of White, at the moment?" she grimaces at the thought, "I'm not really a knight or anything, I'm just a lonely Undead trying to do what's right in the spirit of fellowship and jolly cooperation! You know, fulfill the prophecy?"

Please know the prophecy, Cal, you have to know the prophecy. Then again, she has to admit, if he doesn't know what a hollow is...

"I'm a hollow. Or, I will be, at some point. I go back and forth a lot, but it's nothing to worry about. All in a day's work!"

"Well that makes two of us," Cal murmurs in regards to knights. He arches a brow as she admits to being undead... unless she means it in some kind of metaphorical manner. "Ah..."

Prophecy? The Jedi Order had their fair share of those, not that it seems it matters anymore with the Council gone and any remnant scattered if not already dead. He looks blankly at her as she looks at him like she expects him to follow exactly with what she's saying.

Her explanation about hollows still makes little sense, as can be told by the slow shake of his head. "I'm not following," he admits. "It's a big galaxy out there though, so there's probably plenty of ...unique followings and the like." There are Nightsisters after all...

"Okay, let's try something different. How did you get here? Did you come by ship? And did you see anyone else around, by any chance?"

So far he hasn't even seen any Imperials, although he's not too sure he's desperate enough to even want to find any of them here.

"Oh, the usual way," She has no idea how she got here, Cal. Then again, she has no idea how she gets anywhere, really. Sometimes it's smartest not to question the way the world is put together, "Don't worry about the small stuff, we're here now. That means it's time to explore, kill and be killed, get some good stuff, and move on. I usually find my way back to somewhere familiar after a while, you just have to keep pushing through."

She's ticking these things off on her finger as she goes. She's serious, for what it matters; and the smile never wavers from her face. He's not angry at her, for being hollow, and he didn't react much to the word undead. It's been a long time since she spoke to anyone who was still human, and she's finding the experience much kinder than she'd had reason to hope.

"Why, how did you get here?"

The questioning gesture of outspread hands emphasizes the confused look on the padawan's face as he gets that answer. What usual way?? There's nothing usual about this so far as he can tell. He looks about to object as she tells him not to worry about the small stuff, but then falls silent again as he wonders if she might not have something on this. Well, not about it being a small matter, but the fact is, they are here now. Move on, push through. That resonates with him, mostly because it's something familiar. Something he knows.

"Right..." Cal quietly agrees, running a hand through his hair as he watches her and listens as she goes on. She's awfully cheerful for someone who says they're undead, and it feels like it's been a long time since he's run into anyone of such a genuine disposition. It also helps that she's not trying to claw his face off.

"Oh, uh. I...actually don't know," he admits when the question is turned back to him. "Last thing I was doing was running for my friend's ship..." Friend. It's been a long while since he'd had any of those either. There's a small ache in that realization, and he wonders where Greez and Cere are, and how worried they might be to find he's vanished.

Cal shakes his head. "And then I woke up here."

"And there you go! Can't be that important, or you would remember it, right?" Her own hands are now spread, a mirror of his own gesture, though hers is one of confidence, not confusion, "You know I'm right."

One must never give into despair, Cal. Despair leads to fear, fear leads to panic, panic leads to desperation, and down and down and down. That's how you end up a ravening monster, trying to eat the soul of any moving thing that gets too close to you.

Trust her, she's killed enough of them. And vice versa.

"Anyways, it looks like my gap got blocked. Want to help me look for goodies? I'm kind of hoping I'll find something else that's worthwhile here, or at least somewhere to set up and rest."

Edited 2020-01-16 06:00 (UTC)

He's rather struck by how she can simplify the situation so easily. For a moment he stares at her as he tries to wrap his head around it. No, he's pretty sure he doesn't agree with that. The mission was important, what he was doing had been, up until he'd hit a wall. But now he's been completely thrown off course by some unknown means. But surely it has to be important too.

...maybe.

Cal grimaces at his roundabout thinking, not getting anywhere and feeling only more frustrated for it. BD-1 hoots at him in concern, and glancing at the droid, he nods slowly. "Y-yeah... I don't know, BeeDee. But for now, it looks like we're stuck." He supposes the current company could be worse too, undead hollow whatever or not.

"Okay." This he says to Evangeline, finding a smile easier to manage than he thought it would be, but there's something about her demeanor that helps in that. Keeping busy and finding a place to rest sounds like a good plan for the moment. "We're in. I mean, like you said, we're here now. Right?"

"That's the spirit," She jams her helmet back on, hair tucked in. Where's the sword? Okay, and the shield? That's good. Check the pouches? "Alright, so let's go."

And she proceeds, quite as if she means him to follow, right on down the street past him, in the direction he'd been coming from. It's still a charmingly desolate street, less so now that there's a friend in it, but experience has taught her that empty quiet is not to be trusted.

"So. Seen anything big and mean around here? I usually get more fights than this."

Exchanging a glance with BD-1, Cal shrugs and then starts after Eva. He's of the same mind that just because things are quiet and empty, it doesn't guarantee safety.

"Nothing really," he says, casting a look towards her with a mildly crooked smile. "You too, huh? Not that I'm going to complain about having a break if there's really nothing around, but I think I'd find that more suspicious than the other way around."

Although that would leave him in a bit of a situation, considering he had no weapon on him. Maybe he'd be able to find something, not that anything could really replace a lightsaber.

"Right? Usually, I can't go more than ten steps without something coming up and trying to stick me," There's a thoughtful pause, "...Usually more than one. Actually, I can count the friendly faces I've seen on my fingers, there's so few."

Come to think of it, even they were more or less trying to kill her, those that hadn't simply vanished. For a moment, Evangeline stops walking, staring blankly at the inside of her helm, lost in thought...

And then she shakes herself, a noisy, clanking sort of thing.

"...Well, nevermind that! Yesterday's a foreign country, right? Right. Chin up and keep moving forewards, that's the way."

"That only happens with me if I run into Imperial territory," Cal says dryly, lips quirking however humorlessly. "Which turns out to be a lot of places because the Empire's grabby like that."

It's easy to tell when Evangeline stops, otherwise he might have collided with her if he weren't paying attention. The padawan tilts his head as he comes up beside her, BD-1 mirroring his gesture behind him. When she suddenly shakes herself out he steps back, hands lifting as he gives her space.

"...right. Keep moving." He nods, waiting for her to start again before falling in step alongside of her. "It's kind of the same with me. The...friend thing." Maybe not with the attachments of them trying to kill him, but he has too far and few of them, and those only made recently.

"So what's this prophecy you were talking about earlier?"

"Oh, that?" She cleared her throat performatively, and then lowered her tone so that in the hollow of her helm it nearly echoed, "Thou who art Undead, art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords. When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know."

It had a nice sound to it, she thought. There is, as they walk together, something of a self-satisfied little pause, when the pronouncement is done.

"That's an old saying, from Astora; I think I might be from there. Actually, there are two bells, so it isn't completely accurate, but then that's poetry for you."

Edited 2020-01-18 18:38 (UTC)

It's a nice touch, the echo. It definitely lends to the probably ancient words that Evangeline intones. Cal arches a brow as he listens, and once Eva speaks again to follow up, he nods.

"Well, prophecies aren't really known for being word-for-word accurate so far as I figure," he smiles. "So what happens when this bell is rung? Is it a literal thing you have to do?"

Undead from wherever Evangeline was from seem much more agreeable than the ones he'd encountered on Dathomir, if she's anything to gauge by.

"Oh no, you have to ring them both," She replies, in the manner of someone correcting a minor spelling error, and nothing more, "Ringing just one didn't do anything at all! Of course, there's nothing else for it but to go ring the other one, after that. And you have to fight the guards."

There is a pause.

"...And quite a lot of other things, as well. But what's a giant or two, between here and there? Just another step along the way, right? Right. And anyhow, I can't blame them for coming for me, I did disturb their home, even if they are....gigantic flaming spider-women. Fair's fair."

"Kind of reminds me of Zeffo..." Cal murmurs to BD-1. "Giants?" He looks at Evangeline again, thinking of the ancient guardians in the old tomb they'd had to navigate.

Clarification has him stumble to a halt as he wonders if he'd heard right. "What?" Flaming...spider-women...? He's dealt with flaming things and spider beasts, and a difficult witch who summoned her undead sisters, but never everything at once. That's something he supposes he should be thankful of.

"So you've done it then? Ring the bells?"

"Oh, that. Of course! Not that seemed to do much, actually," She said, then abruptly broke into a clattering trot. The street they were walking along crossed another, and rather than simply walk into the intersection, she was moving towards the actual corner itself.

It's surely not normal for a person in head-to-toe armor to peek so cautiously around like that, interrogating each blind spot with care.

"...I was pretty upset at the time. But that's sort of the worst thing I could've done, so I went exploring and found out that there was this huge gate that'd been opened for some reason while I was away. So, that's the moral, I guess; even if you don't know what's happening, just keep going and it all works out, in the end!"

Test Drive Meme!

The Chosen Undead | Dark Souls

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