revivalprojectooc | SPRING TEST DRIVE MEME

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SPRING TEST DRIVE MEME

SPRING 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:

Spring in Temba and Sh'Ka

Unlike last year, spring doesn't leave the He-Rows dealing with piles of pink glitter. The vast amounts of snow are still present to some degree here and there where the snow has been piled up especially high after the recent blizzard. But life has been returning to both cities with grass and flowers growing more vigorously in Temba while in Sh'Ka the especially tall trees are sprouting their leaves.

The native animals of both cities become more active again as well and especially the birbs residing around Temba's beach produce a noise that can be picked up even in certain parts of the city. Would it be wise to disturb them?

And while the weather has clearly turned warmer and the sun shows notably more presence, spring remains comparably wet. Strong showers of sudden rain are very likely to surprise an exploring He Row when they least expect them.

Explore ~~the city~~ Temba!

Here's a map of Temba 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 and power has been restored to be reliable. 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 proven to be home to verious harmful creatures; 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 sitting in the hangar. Not all of them may be around when you check out the building, as one of the pilots may be using one of them to fly over to Sh'Ka. But there should still enough of them around for you to inspect and maybe wonder about. However, only one of them will open its doors for you. Do you dare to step inside? Check out the protein paste or maybe even meet one of your crew mates?

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!

✧ 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

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The ship that Boba's found is not one that opens for him; the Palm Cottage hatch remains firmly sealed in spite of his efforts. It would open for Dustin, though, which is why he's deliberately hanging back behind a different ship nearby to spy on the little helmeted stranger while he pokes around. An annoying diversion to his routine, for sure - all Dustin had wanted to do was start some laundry and take a shower, but now he's got to worry about some new kid sneaking on board and rifling through his stuff instead. Irritating.

Dustin takes a few seconds to do some research before he reveals himself. This primarily involves grabbing his communicator (a recent change - Dustin has started to realize that the benefits of keeping his on-hand outweigh the potential risk of having his location tracked) and skimming through the 'Dictionary' to locate new Agrii recruits. Boba's picture and name stand out to him instantly.

At least they're in the same boat as the rest of us, Dustin decides with a quiet sigh, stuffing his tablet back in his satchel with the bundle of clothes and sheets bulging its seams. That makes him enough of a known variable to confront.

Steeling his nerves and rolling back his shoulders, Dustin breaks his cover and strides out into the open, deliberately stopping just shy of the boundary where he knows the Palm Cottage will detect a crewmember and start opening doors. The teenager is hardly an imposing figure - short, slight, a bit mangy-looking under too many layers of old sweaters and a well-loved coat - but that doesn't stop him from wearing an expression of annoyance and contempt.

"It's not yours," he informs Boba blithely. "They don't allow access to people that aren't on the roster."

If Boba wasn't so preoccupied with the door, maybe he would've noticed that someone is sneaking up behind him. As it stands, he starts at the sound of a stranger's voice and whirls around, eyes wide. The figure who stands a few meters away isn't that much bigger than him—though, he's standing far enough away that he doesn't seem to be looking for a fight, anyway.

...Maybe Boba can work with that. He forces the fists by his sides to uncurl and speaks as evenly as he can.

"Is it yours? If you can fly it, I'd pay well for you to get me off this planet."

Dustin starts right back at him, flinching away slightly with a sudden narrowing of his eyes. He's too busy trying to assess if he's about to be attacked to notice the parallels between this newcomer's reaction to him and...well, Dustin on any day of the week, really. The only difference is that he's doing to sneaking up this time around.

Even the answer feels familiar, in a way that gets Dustin to huff a humorless laugh at him, but not familiar enough to get him to relax at all. His posture remains guarded and tense; no one can be truly underestimated here, not even an apparent child.

"Let's pretend like that's possible for a moment," he says, arcing a heavy eyebrow. "The fuck would you even pay me with?"

"Credits," Boba answers coolly, undaunted by the stranger's contemptuous tone. "I just completed a job for Jabba the Hutt before I showed up here. If you helped me return, I'd give you a cut."

It's not about the credits for him anyway. It's about demonstrating that he's capable, that Jabba should take him seriously—and, of course, avoiding the crime lord's wrath should he fail.

"Can you fly it or not?"

Well he can't fault the kid for getting to the point, even if his presumptions are a bit misplaced. Dustin's other eyebrow lifts to meet the first one and his posture relaxes slightly.

"...Technically yes," he admits. "So could you, in theory, if you want to give the Agrii another chance to rewire your brain to do it. But that's not gonna help you get back - these aren't transuniversal."

There's only a brief pause, then Dustin cuts back in to amend himself.

"--Well, maybe they are, but the functionality is conveniently locked," he sneers, making a set of air quotes with his hands for appropriate emphasis. "Even with Piloting. A bunch of glorified shuttles, basically, unless the Agrii want us to go fetch something for them off-world."

Boba has been resisting thinking of this as a different universe. The concept is too alien, too permanent, and he's already having a hard time with the notion that he's been spontaneously teleported to a different planet. But he understands when the stranger says that certain functions have been locked—functions that would be necessary for any of them to return from whence they came. It makes sense. After all, if the Agrii want to keep them here, then of course they'd sabotage the ships to prevent their escape.

"Has anyone tried to escape before?" Boba asks. "Overriding the locks on the ships or making a workaround?"

Boba is good with ships, but even to him, both tasks sound daunting. Honestly, he's not sure he could do it without help. Still, better to understand what's already been attempted—and by whom.

Dustin's expression flattens in an instant.

"Yes," he hisses, like the words themselves are causing him physical pain. They kind of are - it's a nasty blow to his pride, admitting failure to someone that makes it sound so simple. It's what he'd thought, too, when he first got here. "'Oh, just make a workaround!' You think I haven't fucking tried?"

Boba flinches back slightly at the anger in the other boy's voice. He hadn't expected him to take it as an insult. Still, Dustin isn't the only one with a temper; when Boba responds, his voice is openly annoyed.

"Then tell me what you tried. You're the one who's actually set foot on one of these junkers before."

Dustin's shoulders visibly bristle. Boba's returned hostility is definitely escalating Dustin's own aggression, yes, but at least his response isn't a violent one.

"Fine." The boy holds up an open hand and starts counting off his fingers. "Crew locking overrides? Checked. Operating one of the decommissioned ships? Checked. Taking off without being a Pilot or Engineer? Checked. Assessing alternate programming methods to overcome planet-side grounding? Total fucking nonstarter. Taking one of these bastards apart so I can find physical locking mechanisms and remove them? Fucking. Checked."

Dustin throws his arms up in a wild shrug and lets them slap back down at his sides.

"Do you want me to keep going?" he snaps. "I can keep fucking going."

Boba listens intently, dismay growing as Dustin's list of failed attempts gets longer and longer. Some of the things the boy lists off are ideas that Boba himself had been considering. Of course, they get shot down just as quickly as the rest. By the time Dustin cuts off partway through the list, Boba feels almost sick with dread.

"No," Boba growls, voice quieter than it had been before. "I've fucking got it."

He doesn't actually know what that word means, but he's got a pretty good idea of the frustration it's supposed to express. Silently, he sits himself on the hangar floor beneath the obsolete ship, feeling like his mind is somehow both racing and utterly blank. He mutters, almost under his breath:

"What am I supposed to do now?

As Boba's emotions play out behind that helmet - inscrutable, yet still somehow plain as day in his tone of voice and his body language as he slumps to the ground - Dustin's anger simmers, cools, and then gutters out entirely. Is this what he wanted? To brow-beat this little boy into giving up? Now that it's happened, he's not at all sure that his diatribe had any goal at all, other than to maybe express his own frustrations. He feels...kind of bad about it, actually.

There's a long few moments of silence, interspersed with awkward shuffling of Dustin's shoulders and feet as his eyes flick around the hangar.

"...Well you can quit pouting about it, for starters," he eventually grumbles, though there isn't any heat in his voice. "You're not the only one stuck here and you won't be the last. Do you think the rest of us just sat on the floor and gave up?"

Boba's own anger is not so quick to cool, though it isn't exactly really at Dustin, either. He's angry at being trapped, at the Agrii, at this stupid planet. Why couldn't they have taken someone else? He glares down at the floor, letting the silence stretch out between him and the stranger. His helmet only tilts back up when the older boy begins to speak, though he scowls at the boy's words beneath the black pane of his visor.

"So I'm just supposed to do what the Agrii want us to do? Even though they kidnapped us?" The disgust is clear in his voice. "What happens if I don't serve them?"

'I am no one's slave or servant.' Those are the words he'd thrown in Jabba's face when the gangster had tried to trick him into servitude. But the Agrii aren't here for him to defy. There's just a bunch of other stolen people, all just as trapped as he is. He hates it.

Boba's terse response is familiar enough that it gets Dustin to openly scoff. He's finally starting to recognize it - that he's talking to someone just as obstinate and paranoid as himself, just in a younger, potentially alien casing. He was there so many relative Earth months ago; in some ways he still is. Idly, Dustin wonders if he's looked this petulant to everyone else.

"I do my best not to, myself," he shrugs. "The problem is, we have a shared goal--not fucking dying. The Agrii want to get rid of the storms, and as long as we're stuck here, we eat the worst of them. It's in our best interest to keep facilities running so we can survive long enough to make them stop."

Boba has to admit, it's a clever set-up on the Agrii's part. By stranding people here, they force them to try and make the planet habitable to survive. And by making the planet habitable, their victims pave the way for the Agrii themselves to return. He lapses back into silence for a few moments, still trying to think of an alternate course of action... and not coming up with any that don't involve lowering his own chances of survival as well.

"They better send me back before the planet is fixed," Boba mutters. "Because I'll kill them if they ever come down here."

Even he knows he's mostly saying it to make himself feel better. It does work a little bit. At least he finally stands up again.

"My name's Boba," he says, not quite meeting Dustin's eye beneath his helmet's visor. "Sorry for trying to break into your ship."

The older boy may have been abrasive and unfriendly, but he had provided information—and he seems to hate the Agrii, too. That makes him something like an ally in Boba's eyes.

Dustin isn't sure how to interpret that kind of response. Is he being serious? It's hard to tell from his tone, and Dustin can't discount the possibility of anyone here being prone to actual, murderous violence, even based on apparent age. At least it's not directed at him, which is...a little better. Doesn't stop Dustin from looking kind of uneasy as Boba stands, like that anger might be redirected at him at any moment. He'll be keeping a wary eye on this kid.

Introductions are a bit more manageable - not that Dustin is better at handling them or anything, as he immediately illustrates. "I know," he says idly, glossing over Boba's apology. "Communicators have a directory. You should check yours."

"Or you could just tell me your name," Boba grumbles, even as he fishes his communicator out of his pocket. The truth is, if there is a directory of every person stuck on this planet, he probably should look at it. The chances of him actually recognizing anyone might be slim, but better to be safe than sorry.

There are a few quiet moments while Boba taps at the screen, first finding the directory and then scrolling through it until he finds a face that looks like the boy in front of him.

"Dustin Silver," he says after a moment, glancing up at the boy to confirm before looking back down at the screen. They have Boba's name and picture here, too—and that's a liability if Boba ever saw one. "How do the Agrii even know our names anyw—"

He stops short, brow furrowing as he stares down at the screen. He'd considered before the unlikelihood of seeing anyone he recognizes among the faces on the directory—but an outcome he'd expected even less is seeing a face that looks suspiciously like his own staring back at him from the rows. The confusion is clear in his voice when he speaks:

"Who's Omega?"

Could he? Probably. Dustin makes a face, like he's weighing the pros and cons of introducing himself like a normal person, but doesn't ever actually offer it up. Boba's already working on teaching himself the more efficient way to learn who everyone is; as far as Dustin's concerned, that's much more valuable information to provide.

The sound of his name gets him to nod. It's not the name he grew up with, but he's had it thrown around here enough that he's used to it by now. Leaning back against the other ship, arms folded, Dustin waits for Boba to follow up and is already formulating a response to the implied rest of that conclusion when, suddenly, the kid throws him a curveball.

Dustin blinks at him. Curiosity quickly morphs into suspicion. "...Why do you care?"

"He looks like me."

Which isn't perhaps as shocking for Boba as it might be for others; he is a clone, after all, and he knows firsthand that he shares his face with millions of others. If anything, what confuses him about this 'Omega' figure is their differences. He and Boba look very alike, but they aren't identical—and that's not even to mention the blonde hair.

In a word, he looks related to Boba rather than cloned from the same source. Yet, Boba knows that's impossible; any relations he might've had were wiped out by Death Watch decades before he was born. So who could this Omega be?

Boba demonstrates by lifting up his helmet, revealing a face that is strikingly similar to Omega's, albeit a few years younger.

"See?"

Dustin's eyebrows arc precipitously.

"She," he corrects, automatically. But pronoun confusion is hardly what has him so interested; a moment later, when Boba lifts up his helmet, Dustin notes that he's right. The similarities are striking enough that he hardly needs his abilities to recognize them, and since he does, they stick out like flashing lights all over the boy's face. A few other memories flicker through Dustin's mind simultaneously: The fact that Omega has mentioned having brothers. Her home being a military cloning facility. The conclusion seems obvious enough, but he has to make sure.

"...You're from Kamino?"

Boba only keeps his helmet up long enough to prove his point. That done, he places it back over his head.

"She?" He sounds a bit puzzled by that and he only becomes more confused when the boy mentions Kamino. "Yes," he answers. "That's where she's from, too, isn't it?"

So then she has to be a clone. But then, why does she look so different? He shakes his head, confounded. "All the clones are supposed to look just like me and my dad," he explains. "I don't know why she's different."

It must be something the Kaminoans did. Maybe some kind of experiment? But what were they trying to do? And for whom?

There's the confirmation he was expecting. Dustin nods slowly, more pensive than surprised.

Another clone. He'd suspected that was possible, considering the fact that Omega lived on a planet that was apparently used exclusively to study cloning techniques and generate soldiers for the military, but she'd never given him any conclusive evidence to say that she was one of them herself. Much like Boba is thinking now, the fact that Echo is her brother made him second-guess that assumption. They could have just as easily been a family that lived there as scientists with the other Kaminoans, or they were the ones having their genes replicated to make the clones, or both. But what Boba tells him now blows both of those theories out of the water.

"It's not impossible," Dustin murmurs, mostly to himself. "There are cloning techniques that don't produce identical genetic copies - stem cell cloning to create gametes, for example. She could also not be biologically female, or could be dying her hair." He shrugs. "Plenty of explanations."

Boba shakes his head at Dustin's speculation. "I know it's not impossible. The Kaminoans can make clones look like whatever they want. But why would they make one that's different?" A pause and then he amends: "Another one that's different."

Because Boba's different, too, even if he doesn't look like it. But he'd been made different specifically at the request of his father—and he's sure his father hadn't requested another clone for himself. The question is: had someone else?

"Maybe she's a mistake," Boba mutters, thinking aloud. "But if she's a mistake, the Kaminoans wouldn't have let her get so old."

In some ways, it hardly matters. So what if there's some strange, custom-made clone of his father's somewhere in the city? It's not like they're actually family and even if they were, it wouldn't bring Boba any closer to escaping this place. Yet, Boba can't help but be curious—and, maybe, it's a little easier to focus on this new mystery in front of him rather than the far larger, more overwhelming ones about his presence in this place.

The black gaze of his helmet visor snaps up to look at Dustin.

"Do you know her? Can you tell me where to find her?"

Ah - less how and more why, then. Dustin has plenty of speculative answers for that question, too, and he's opening his mouth to give them, when Boba provides his input first. He takes a breath and then lapses into pensive silence, his brow furrowing.

A mistake. Dustin doesn't like the sound of that. If the Kaminoans had kept their pool of clones relatively homogenous, and Boba was taught that any deviation from that pool was a Problem, even if Omega's mutations were given deliberately then he might not see them that way. Less of a child's curiosity and more finding a loose end to be cut.

"...I'm going to tell her that you're looking for her," Dustin murmurs slowly, reaching for his satchel and the communicator inside it. "Then she can arrange where you'll meet, if she wants to."

Boba tilts his head at that, but doesn't object. "Okay," he says.

He can tell when someone else is being cautious, even if he's not quite sure why. Maybe there's some bigger secret tied up here than Boba knows. Or maybe he's worried about Boba's intentions; Boba supposes it's rarely a good thing when someone wearing a Mandalorian battle helmet is searching for someone.

A pause as he considers this, and then: "You can tell her that I'm a clone, too."

Maybe that will make her less worried about meeting him. Or Dustin less worried, though he's probably already figured it out.

"Is she your friend?"

Dustin's fingers swipe and dance over his communicator, the only indication that he's even listening to what Boba is telling him showing in how one of his eyebrows twitches every time the boy tacks something else on. The message itself is a quick one.

Boba Fett says you two might be related.
Also from Kamino.
He's looking for you. You should get in touch with him first.

He taps the button to send, then unceremoniously dunks his communicator back into his satchel. Then a pause. Dustin could have answered Boba's question at any time while he was typing, but it's weird and complicated enough that he has to spend more time thinking about it anyway.

"...Sure," he eventually says, sounding a little too forced. Omega had said she wanted them to be friends, and if she still wanted that after all of the bullshit Dustin has done around her, then that must count for something, right? He quickly changes the subject. "You know, the network also tells you which ship you've been assigned to, yeah? That's the one that'll open for you."

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