Spring Test Drive Meme!

[trpmods]

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...

- Do you hear a storm? A giant, power-altering storm has been ravaging part of the planet for a month. It shows 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? More information can be found  here.

- 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

Comments

Jonathan Sims | The Magnus Archives

[beholding_archivist]

A - Spaceships!

It's pure luck - or lack thereof - that has Jon stumble into the hangar and for the better part of the next five minutes he is left... Well. Staring. This... Can't be real. And if he weren't already turning grey prematurely, he would be convinced that this place is intending to achieve just that.

The man manages to pick up enough shards of his composure to tear his eyes away from the ships in front of him and briefly look around only to find himself alone. He is practically radiating insecurity as he clutches the old tape recorder in his hand, swallows and pushes down the record button without thinking too much about it. Then he begins to speak, almost as if to himself. At least he tries to sound steady enough, but the worry in his tone is clear.

"Spaceships. Ships... Meant to go into space. And for all intents and purposes I am certain I am- Well. Looking at some right now. Just sitting there." He sighs, defeat creeping into his voice "Still no sign of the others. And I am still not sure what--" For a moment he trails off, then grits his teeth "I swear if this is just another-!"

The sudden noise of another person entering the hangar interrupts Jon's recording and he looks up in alarm, his hand clenching around the device in his hand. He probably shouldn't be in here, should he?

"Hello?"

B - Is this how you use this?

[ The screen turns on to the face of a skeptical looking young man that not only looks older than he is, but also as if he hasn't slept in a week or three. He doesn't speak right away and merely inspects the screen for some moments, though. Eventually a look of understanding crosses his still scowling features. ]

I see.

[ Yes, he's commenting to himself. ]

Well, this wasn't too hard. A somewhat new design, but overall means of operation not dissimilar to my phone back home. Though I doubt I can reach anyone-

[ Jon pauses suddenly, scowl turning into an open frown as he inclines his head. ]

No one's on the receiving end of this, is there?

[ Yes again. He hasn't been meaning his initial observations for anyone but himself - And his tape recorder. ]

B

[kallig]

There is. Quite a few of us, actually.

[He tilts his head.] I take it you didn't mean to make this public.

[beholding_archivist]

What-?

[ It's not a full question, but the surprise is genuine. Good sir, are you aware you are blue? Which by all means isn't a trait Jon can assign to any of the creatures and beings he has encountered or heard of. But then again, the monsters he is used to... Well. In most cases they used to be human at some point. For all the paranormal research the Institute has done, one may be surprised to hear that aliens haven't really ever made it into those statements.

Even though in all honesty Jon might have greeted having a plain logical explanation such as aliens at hand in some cases. Wouldn't that be a nice change from constantly having to deal with manifestations of dread?

But hey, he's staring, isn't he? Jon blinks twice, then makes a decent effort to straighten his face. ]

Uhmm...

[ Yes, that's definitely better. ]

I mean... No.

[ We're getting there. Just give his brain another moment to finish rebooting. After another moment he narrows his eyes and the barest hint of suspicion creeps into his voice. ]

Who is..... Us?

[ A reference to his most recent kidnappers? ]

[kallig]

[Altair is used to the stares, really. He doesn't seem bothered by it, at any rate. After all, coming from where he comes from, there are worse things humans can do than stare at him.]

Us is the rest of the people who've been taken here against their will.

[He tilts his head slightly.] There are quite a few of us. Taken by the Agrii from many different places.

[beholding_archivist]

[ Oh. That’s a nice change of pace. Sort of. At least he’s not the only one being kidnapped for once?

A soft click somewhere off screen announces the tape recorder being turned off and Jon nods, managing to get a bit more of a hold of himself. ]

My apologies. I didn’t mean to send out... Stray messages. The phones I’m used to don’t exactly do that.

[ A short pause. ]

I’m Jonathan Sims. Jon... will suffice.

[kallig]

No need to apologize. There are people here from different times and different dimensions- the occasional accidental message is to be expected.

[He gives a slight bow of his head when the man introduces himself.] Altair Kallig. You can decide yourself if you wish to refer to me by my first or last name.

[beholding_archivist]

...different times and different dimensions. I wish I could be surprised by that concept.

[ He comments almost flatly and it's really more of a commentary to himself than a real reply. ]

Mister Kallig, then... I assume there isn't really a way out of this place. Back to whatever time or dimensions we were taken from.

[kallig]

Spoken like a man used to insanity.

[Altair is, too.]

If you're going to be that polite, I'd much prefer "Lord". [Given that he is one. It does sound sort of like a joke though, but just barely.]

And no, none that we've been able to find yet. Some people disappear from time to time, but... We do not know if they are returned home, or if it's something else.

[beholding_archivist]

Very well, Lord Kallig.

[ Not much of a problem for him. Even though the request is met with a grain of sarcasm. ]

You are not wrong, however. Insanity, monsters, fears... I research and record incidents revolving around such matters. Getting used to them is part of the job.

[ As is getting kidnapped every now and then. And turning into a monster, but... That's not something that necessarily needs to be shared. ]

And you may want to hope they either went home or died. Being trapped in some maddening pocket dimension without being permitted to die is allegedly the least preferable option.

[kallig]

I was joking. I am a Lord. But not here- merely "Kallig" will do just fine.

[He doesn't really care so much any more.

Being Sith is something no one can take from him, regardless. But he's not the type to demand respect or the use of his proper title- not here. Here, he needs to earn it.]

If they're dead, then so are the Agrii once I get my hands on them.

[There's a crackle of electricity that runs along his hands, up his arms, briefly interfering with his comm's video feed briefly flickering, as Altair's mood darkens. But, he's hoping his friends are just at home.]

A

[brooklyn_boy]

Steve doesn't go to the hangar often. He prefers to stay in the city in the room he shares with Bucky than to come and spend time with the ship he'd been trapped on for nearly a year. But that was long ago and, sometimes, there just wasn't enough food in town for his super-powered metabolism. So. Protein gel it was.

Disgusting, awful protein gel. Ugh.

Before he can cross to the Bishop, though, Steve hears someone calling out. A new voice, actually. He seems it out until he comes across this new man.

"Oh," Steve says with a small smile. "Hello. I...uh. I don't think we've met before. You new here?"

[beholding_archivist]

Well, if anything, Steve at least appears about normal enough for Jon to relax somewhat. Of course he isn’t foolish enough to simply disregard all what he knows to be able to hide behind a human guise. But for now this stranger at least appears human enough. A little intimidating maybe, but at lest not making any strange noises or moving oddly.

The tape recorder in Jon’s hand turns off with a soft click.

“I... Guess I am?” He tries with a vague shrug and a moment of silence is about to settle before he remembers to introduce himself.

“Jonathan Sims. Archivist at the-“ But he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “No. I don’t think that really matters.” He instead points over at the ships. “Are these real?”

[brooklyn_boy]

It's been awhile since Steve has met someone who is awed by a spaceship. It reminds him of when he woke up in the 21st century and suddenly the whole world was changed. Steve can sympathize with that sort of unmooring feeling.

"Yeah. Yeah, they are." His own ship is close by. "I'm on that one. It's called the Bishop. Did you want to see the inside of it? It's nothing fancy but I figure you might not have seen many in your world?"

[beholding_archivist]

To be entirely fair, this is less awe and much rather just plain fear. Of course Jon wouldn’t be too openly admit to be scared of the presence of space ships themselves. But where there are spaceships, there are beings that built them. That know how to fly them. That have a whole different understanding of the universe, perhaps.

And with all that understanding, naturally, arises a whole new catalogue of potential fears. Having to deal with the ones he already knows has been plenty for Jon, no need to add to them.

Still, he directs his gaze towards the pointed out ship and just can’t bring himself to appear anything less than wary.

“Bishop. Not what I’d expected the name of one of these to be, I have to admit.”

And he shakes his head.

“But no. Mankind doesn’t quite leave the Earth as I know it yet. Not in such capacity, at least.”

[brooklyn_boy]

"Yeah. I could figure from the way you're lookin' at them. If it helps, I was born right about when planes were still pretty nifty. Space travel was for comic books and science fiction. Took me a long time to adjust to all this, too."

He walks over to the Bishop and hits a button on the side to open the hatch. It hisses and slides away to show the inside of the ship to the man near him.

"It won't fly off right now. My crew isn't on board for one and the Agrii usually are the ones pulling the strings for another. It's just a metal structure at the moment. If you wanna step in?"

[beholding_archivist]

“Might as well.” Jon says, his tone only partially leaning towards realignment.

The inside of the ship sure doesn’t resemble any of the pictures he recalls to have seen of the inside of a space station or shuttle used to launch humans off of their planet. And yet he can’t help but remember as he casts a cautious look around.

“I have had statements of astronauts that spent some time on a space station, you know? Of what they experienced during that time. What they encountered.” Their fears, of course. Which in retrospect makes sense, but upon thinking back at the first statement Jon also vividly recalls chalking it off as little more than hallucinations.

What he isn’t too aware of at this time is however, is just how used he is getting to more or less speak of these statements left by traumatized people as if they were food...

SPACESHIP

[out_of_order]

The man will find a chicken-sized droid skitters inside. It pauses, head lifting in surprise as it backtracks a few steps. In response to the hesitant greeting it beeps its own.

"BeeDee? Where'd you run off to?" Another voice sounds from the entryway as someone else enters. "Oh- sorry, didn't know anyone else was in here." The young man steps closer, lifting his hands in placation as though he'd sensed the other's alarm. Maybe he has.

"Name's Cal. This is BeeDee-One. Hope we're not being a bother or anything." Well, what an odd thing to say!

[beholding_archivist]

The droid isn’t something Jon expects. And just as the little robot backs away, so does the man, his state of alarm not ceasing as images of artificial limbs wearing human skin step into the forefront of his mind along with reminders of a madness he has been avoiding to think too much about.

Hearing a voice that certainly sounds human and appears along with what at least looks to be a human is.... Sort of a relief? Not quite yet. And Jon keeps glancing back and forth between Cal and his droid.

“Ah... Jon. Just call me Jon, I guess.” He replies at last, fingers drumming lightly against the recorder he still clutches. Then his eyes settle fully on the droid but Jon clearly addresses Cal.

“Please tell me you are controlling that.”

It’s not a question. He wants to ask, yes. But... No.

[out_of_order]

BD-1 scrambles up Cal's arm as the young man stoops down to extend it for him, the droid settling behind him in what must be a usual perch. Cal straightens, brow arching before he nods at the other man.

"Jon," he says, before smiling a little crookedly as he glances over his shoulder at BD-1.

"Me? Oh no, BeeDee controls himself. He's his own droid. Isn't that right?"

The droid hoots a response, wiggling a bit like an eager puppy.

[beholding_archivist]

Jon's attention sticks with the droid as the little machine moves. Part of him expects this to end terribly. With the droid plunging some sharp metal part of itself into the young man's neck or drilling into his skull or something similarly terrible.

But none of that happens.

Thankfully.

Yet he can't really stop staring.

"And you are not worried about that in the slightest."

Again, not a question. An observation.

He forces his attention away from the droid and instead catches sight of the parked ships once more, recalling his earlier confusion with a bit of a rather nervous frown.

"What abut those. Are they their own... Spaceships? As well?" No, he isn't even sure if he's doing this right.

[out_of_order]

Maybe this guy's not familiar with droids, wherever he's from. Cal can definitely sense the anxiety. He smiles in faint amusement at Jon's words.

"Not at all. He's my best friend. And he pretty much claimed that spot ever since I met him."

BD-1 sounds a little smug at that as he beeps a confirmation. When Jon asks about the spaceships, both droid and padawan look over to the rest of them. No, this guy seems pretty new about these sorts of things.

"If you mean like a droid, then no. At least I don't think so. They have computers, but still rely on people to pilot and operate things." He thinks about the Separatist Vulture Droids that could transform into their own ships and decides not to bring them up. It'd probably just get confusing.

"You...haven't been here long, have you?" Cal hazards as he looks back at the bespectacled man.

[beholding_archivist]

As he listens, Jon looks over the quietly looming ships and manages to feel at least somewhat relieved to hear that he shouldn't expect these to come to life as well. That perky little robot is already plenty to get used to. Maybe if he can convince himself to see it as some sort of... Pet. Yes. It does act like a pet in some ways, doesn't it?

Cal's question draws Jon's attention back to the younger man.

"It's that obvious, isn't it?" He replies dryly before quickly looking around the hangar once more.

"Though as far as I'm concerned, I have been here long enough already. I could use a door home!" That last part is practically called right into his tape recorder. Part of him wants to hope someone might be listening? Which obviously isn't the case and only leaves him standing there as an awkward silence settles down slowly but predictably.

[out_of_order]

"To be fair, I haven't been here too long either. At least compared to some," Cal amends, watching as the man looks around. He can't help but nod in shared sentiment of it being long enough no matter how brief a time one found themselves here.

While not familiar with the device the man holds, the padawan assumes it's some sort of old-fashioned communicator. He's not sure what Jon expects for the silence that follows, but he does get a sense that there's some small flicker of hope in something.

"...wish I could say it was that easy, but I'm sure if it were, no one would still be here. We've all sort of been...hired by the former locals of this world- the Agrii." 'Hired' was putting it nicely. "They've designated us their 'heroes' to fix their city among other things. They... unfortunately just didn't give us much of an option otherwise."

[beholding_archivist]

There is, indeed, a certain piece of hope. Not much. Jon has mostly given up on hoping by this point, seeing that the universe appears to have decided he just can’t have nice things.

And thus, as he already expects, no faded, yellow door. No strange, sourceless music. No sinister cackling or dark holes appearing out of nowhere. Just... Nothing.

“Marvelous.” He sighs, then turns off his recorder and fully turns to focus on Cal at last.

“Heroes, it is? Well, you at least appear like one.” Jon observes with a light frown “I just hope that with fixing they don’t mean rebuilding. You don’t get an archivist if you want to build something. Lest they want records of their progress.”

There’s a very clear verbal eye roll happening at this point.

“The last time I held any sort of actual tool it ended up badly for some furniture - And unleashed something dreadful, but... That’s not the point.”

The point rather being that he really doesn’t think he should be here.

[out_of_order]

Cal can certainly empathize with the man, although magical doorways suddenly appearing aren't things he just expects to happen anywhere. But even the ways in which the Agrii had spirited them here to their city hasn't exactly been disclosed, and it was difficult getting any straight answers, much less any answers at all.

Does he look like a hero? Cal doesn't much feel like one, but the comment makes him smile wryly. Maybe in the past he would have thought it more fitting. He's not sure he's anyone's hero now.

"Not sure what the requirements are for their selection process. But I think they're expecting it literally. ...also we're expected to figure out how to stop a storm." He lets that seeming impossibility sink in. "So you're an archivist?"